Burning Passion: Love Never Die

“It was all real. You got hurt because of Megan,” Debbie muttered in a slightly horrified tone. The fact was still too hard for her to process.

Hearing her words, Carlos scooped her cheek with one hand and tried to comfort her, “Deb, you know that—”

“I know, I know,” she said resignedly. After getting out of bed, she prattled on.

“I’m going downstairs for breakfast. Then we’re going to the hospital. Dr. Jordan said your wound needed to be treated in the hospital. Or else it is going to fall prey to inflammation or infection.”

Carlos was recovering quickly. Debbie was surprised to see him able to be on his feet already. And he looked like a million bucks.

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” he protested.

Debbie turned her head back and threatened, “Fine! Then you can ask

Megan to come over and look after you. I don’t want to take care of a stubborn patient.”

Carlos was left speechless. He recalled how tender and sweet she had been when she had danced on the stage the other day. Sadly, that side of her appeared only briefly.

Debbie got dressed in her bedroom and went downstairs.

In the dining room, Julie was heating up the dishes for Debbie. She had already gotten a call from Carlos asking her to do so before Debbie could get downstairs.

After a simple breakfast, Debbie went back to Carlos’ room.

“Hey, are you going to the hospital or not?” she asked sullenly.

“If you’re worried about me, just call the doctor in. It would be much simpler that way in any case.” This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“The doctor was here yesterday. He said there was no medical equipment here and you would receive better treatment at the hospital. This is the doctor’s advice, not mine. Why are you fighting this?”

Debbie got exasperated and once again, Carlos was left nothing to retort.

Debbie ground her teeth, angry at the man’s stubbornness.

“If you plan on acting Like this, then I’m Leaving. I won’t come back until your wound is healed.”

She had hardly taken one step before Carlos took her wrist and agreed resignedly, “I’ll go.”

Debbie secretly chuckled and then assumed a serious look again. After prying Carlos’ hand away, she said, “I’ll go get your clothes.”

However, when Debbie opened Carlos’ closet, she was stunned at the tidiness and cleanness it was sporting. The clothes and accessories were arranged in such an order as the kind one would witness if they were being displayed in a showcase in a mall.

Since Carlos wanted to keep his injury from the press, Debbie picked out a pair of sweatpants, an extra-thick white sweatshirt, and a white baseball cap for him. She had never seen him dressed like that, so she assumed the press wouldn’t be able to recognize him in this outfit. It looked low-key enough.

She put the clothes on the bed and ordered, “There. Get changed.”

Carlos shifted his look from her to his right arm and then back to her again, saying, “I’m injured. You’ll have to help me dress.”

For a moment, Debbie didn’t know how to respond. Then she said, “I’LL go get help.” When Carlos had come back from abroad, some servants had come back to the villa with him.