Silently, Carlos tucked Debbie into the car. Then he buckled her up and closed the door before striding to the driver's seat.

But Debbie wasn't staying in the car obediently. She wanted to get out. Yet she had hardly unfastened the seat belt before Carlos got in and locked the doors.

Neither of them said a word until five minutes later. "If you are angry because of Megan, don't be." Carlos finally broke the silence.

Howsoever, Debbie didn't answer. Ignoring him, she closed her eyes and moved herself into a more comfortable position. She needed rest.

Stealing a glance at her, Carlos frowned. 'This woman is such a headache. What am I supposed to do with her?' he wondered.

As soon as the car pulled into the garage at the villa, Debbie jumped out, hurried into her room, and quickly locked the door from inside.

Eager to talk to her, Carlos followed her upstairs and pushed the door to her room, only to realize she had locked it from inside. For several minutes he stood there, knocking, but there was no response. Once more he forcefully tried to turn the knob. A futile attempt. Frustrated, he checked the time on his watch. It was past 3 a.m. already. 'I might as well let her rest now. Hopefully, she will be in the mood to talk when she wakes up tomorrow, ' he thought with resignation.

Back to his bedroom, though, Carlos couldn't sleep on the matter. So he called Damon and told him what had happened after the party, hoping that he could help him figure out what had triggered Debbie's anger. But Carlos left out some details, which he thought didn't matter. For example, he didn't mention that he and Megan stayed in the same room for a long time; that Megan took the passenger seat; and that he helped her with some math problems after he had escorted her to her apartment.

Therefore, Damon was also puzzled after hearing what Carlos had said. "Did someone offend her on the island?"

Carlos shook his head. "Obviously, it has something to do with Megan. I just don't know what it is."

He still remembered what Debbie had shouted when he came out of Megan's apartment.

"Oh, then she must have misunderstood your relationship with Megan. She is jealous. I think you two will be fine after you explain everything to her."

"I did. I told her that Megan was a kid Wesley and I are fostering together."

"And then?"

Carlos took off his shirt and threw it into a basket.

"When we got home, she was still mad. She went straight into her room and locked herself inside." It amused Damon how a girl like Debbie would be a threat to any man. How she would give a player like him and Carlos, the CEO sleepless nights was something beyond Damon. Yet here they were, awake, on the phone in the middle of the night analyzing why she was mad.

The problem was, even he, the ladies' man, couldn't figure out what Debbie was angry about.

So he started having wild guesses. "Maybe she is just being unreasonable. Or she is very possessive. Oh, or she is so possessive that she becomes unreasonable."

Carlos really didn't know how to respond to that.

"Actually, good buddy, the simplest yet most effective solution is to do it, until she learns to forgive you." Damon was in fact speaking for himself. That was exactly what he had used on the woman he loved. And it had worked.

"She is still a girl," Carlos replied.

It took Damon a long while to realize what he meant by that. And when he did, he jumped up from the bed and asked in disbelief, "C'mon, Carlos. You want to tell me you and Debbie have never slept together?"

Carlos suddenly felt embarrassed.

"Carlos, man, what's the problem? Are you impotent? Between you and Debbie, could there be a medical problem? Or are you gay?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Carlos cursed. "I never force any woman. I want her to want to have sex with me."

"Fine! Keep your cool then. Why are you freaking calling me in the middle of the night? Two hot chicks are waiting for me in bed!" Damon snarled.

"Two women? D, does Adriana know about this?"

The other end of the phone went silent, as if all of a sudden Damon's mind went blank. "Get out! Both of you!" Carlos heard him shouting, apparently at a distance from the phone after a moment.

Intrigued by what Damon was up to, Carlos looked out the window calmly, a cigarette in hand.

He could hear the sound of door closing over the phone. "Where is she?" asked Damon.

"Adriana showed up at the party, but when she saw you go into a hotel with another woman, she went back to New Zealand," Carlos answered.

Hearing this, Damon stood up from the sofa in a fluster, grabbed his red suit jacket, and said, "Bro, either you spoil your woman without a limit or you subjugate her in bed. Gotta go."

With that, he hung up the phone.

The next day, Debbie slept in. When she got up, it was already noon. Sitting in bed, she looked around her room, her head swimming. It took her a moment to remember that she had come home in the middle of the night.

Memories of Carlos and Megan came flooding back.

After freshening up, she came downstairs to have lunch. When the doorbell rang, it was Julie who answered. Tristan walked in with a couple of shopping bags.

He walked over to Debbie and greeted, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Huo."

Debbie nodded, "Afternoon to you."

"Mrs. Huo, Mr. Huo bought these and asked me to bring them to you."

Debbie stopped eating and looked at those bags. Her eyes lit up on the sight of the logo of a designer lipstick brand she always wished for, but couldn't afford. At the price of a six thousand dollars per piece, it was way too expensive for her.

"Thank Mr. Huo for me. But I won't take these. Take them back to him so that he can give them to someone else," Debbie said in a flat tone.

Her refusal surprised Tristan. Had he walked into a marital storm? It was an awkward moment he wished he should have excused himself.

But Carlos was his boss, and he felt obliged to put in a good word for the big man. "Mrs. Huo, Mr. Huo picked these for you in person this morning. I've worked for Mr. Huo for a long time, and I've never seen him pick a gift for any woman before."

Scooping some rice from from her plate, Debbie asked casually, "What about Megan's birthday gift?"

Tristan was stunned. "Er... about that... Mr. Huo picked it himself.

But what does this have to do with Miss Lan?" Tristan didn't understand why Debbie suddenly brought up Megan. But he had to do his job. Mrs. Huo, Mr. Huo was in an awful mood when he went to work this morning, but when he picked this gift for you, he was in an incredibly good mood."

"A good mood? How did you know? Did he smile? Or did he tell you that himself?"

Tristan was left speechless. He could tell that Debbie was furious about something.

That made the situation even worse for him because although he was capable at work, he sucked when it came to women. The fact that he was a divorce man spoke for itself. Clutching at straws, he fumbled, "Well, as you know Mr. Huo doesn't smile much. And he doesn't put his feelings into words."

"I know." Debbie responded crisply. Once again Tristan fell into silence.

Careful not to make the situation spoil Tristan's mood over her differences with Carlos, she simply said, "Take these lipsticks back to Carlos Huo. I don't want them."

However, unsure how he would face Carlos, Tristan put the lipsticks on the dinning table and turned around. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Huo, I can't do that. If you don't want them, I guess you will have to take them back to Mr. Huo yourself. They are out of my hands now."

He said anxiously as he headed for the door.

Once he got out of the house, he wiped beads of sweat off his forehead and feeling the warmth of sunshine, a sudden need to talk to someone filled his heart. To help his boss, he might need Emmett to be around. Among his colleagues, Emmett was a friend to Debbie. Meeting Debbie in this foul mood remind Tristan of his own struggle. 'Emmett, come back home. I wouldn't be so miserable if you were here, ' he thought.

Meanwhile, Emmett, who was on a construction site, supervising the crew, sneezed suddenly. 'Damn! Who is talking about me behind my back? Or is someone missing me?' he wondered. Actually, he had been thinking, 'Mr. Huo, I miss you. I want to talk to you. Please take me back!'

Bowing his head, he pondered over it for a while. Then he took out his phone and called Tristan. "Tristan, how are things with Mr. and Mrs. Huo? Are they getting along?"