Goodbye, Mr. Ex: I've Remarried Mr. Right

"Where is she?"

Drake scanned the surroundings, noting that there was nowhere to escape.

Peter replied, "She's still in there. It's been five minutes, and she hasn't come out yet."

"Check," Drake ordered.

"Yes, sir." Peter banged on the restroom door, his voice harsh. "Open the door."

There was no response.

"Mr. Lowe is here, and there is no escape. Open the damn door!" Peter's voice grew increasingly agitated, but there was still no response from inside.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

He looked back at Drake, confused. "Could it be that she passed out again?"

Drake wasn't a man known for patience. With a swift motion, he pulled a gun from his waist and fired at the lock. The door splintered with a loud crack, and he kicked it open. "Move," he barked.

Rushing in, they found Debra standing by the sink, drying her hands casually.

Not happy about the intrusion, she huffed, "Mr. Lowe, is there anything you need in the women's restroom?"

Drake sullenly looked back at Peter, who shifted awkwardly.

He barked at Debra, "I called you like ten times. Are you deaf?"

Their methods with women were always crude, and with Drake having fired his gun, Debra should have heard it.

Unfazed, Debra snorted, "Take a good look around. The place is tiny. Where exactly do you think I could have escaped to? The vent? Swim with sharks?"

Peter's face flushed with embarrassment. "You could've answered."

"I'm not an animal. Why should I respond to you?" Debra retorted.

"You..." Peter spluttered.

"Enough!" Drake barked.

Without warning, he grabbed Debra by the jaw, his grip cold and rough. "I don't like it when people push me. One more stunt, and I'll throw you overboard to feed the sharks."

Debra didn't flinch. "Don't worry, I'm not that foolish. Just be clear that I'm not one of your women. I expect basic respect while I'm here.

Otherwise, you might as wellkill me now."

Drake let out a cold laugh. He had dealt with countless women before, but this was the first time one had demanded respect.

In an instant, his hand closed around her wrist, and he dragged her out onto the deck. "Sir!" Peter chased after them.

Rain drizzled down from the sky, and the wind whipped at them as Drake forced Debra to the edge of the ship. His hand gripped her throat, pinning her against the railing. Below her, the dark sea raged.

"Here's your choice," Drake growled. "Do you want respect, or do you want to live?"

Debra's eyes darkened. Both options were traps.

If she chose life, she would be no different from the other women in Drake's eyes. If she chose respect, he might lose interest and throw her overboard. Before she could think twice, Debra wrenched free from his grip and threw herself over the railing.