Take My Breath Away

The girl was one of Carlos' fans, so Debbie signed his name as well, right next to hers. She also drew a heart between their names.

Looking at her work, she flashed a broad smile and handed the pen and notebook back to the girl. "Done. I hope it's okay. My writing's a mess."

"Thank you, Mrs. Huo. Er, can I call you 'Debbie?' You're so down to earth. Thanks for the autograph!"

Before Debbie could answer, more pens and notebooks were put in front of her for her to sign. She wondered if she would get cramp in her hand before she finished.

Actually, Debbie felt a lot more comfortable and happier with these young girls. Compared to those fake women at the expo, these girls were cheerful and real. Coming from a noble family didn't guarantee that a person had a noble personality. In fact, it was often the opposite.

Suddenly, a light bulb went off in Debbie's head. With a cunning smile, she told Carlos' fans, "Well, my husband looks cold and uncaring, but he's actually a nice guy. If you ask him for autographs, I'm sure he'll do it."

"Really? If he says no, can you help us out, Mrs. Huo?"

"No problem. But he's busy right now. Not sure when he'll be done," said Debbie.

In stunned disbelief, the security guards looked at Debbie, who was busy chatting with the girls. She was so nice and unpretentious. She sounded like she was happy to be there, and they got the sense that it wasn't an act. They'd never been assigned to guard a celebrity who was so amiable and easy to approach.

And she was not just some actress or pop star, but Carlos Huo's wife.

At the expo, a security guard sprinted into the main hall and found Carlos, who was discussing business with a few guests. "Mr. Huo, your wife's being mobbed by fans..."

Carlos set his glass on a nearby table. "Thanks. I'll check it out." He then turned to Tristan. "Take your men and find two popular stars. Make it obvious they're around. Then split them up. That should keep the fans busy chasing them rather than my wife."

"Yes, Mr. Huo."

Debbie's right hand became shaky after so many signatures. All of a sudden, people around her began to scream. "Aaaargh! It's Mr. Huo! Look! Carlos Huo!"

A dozen bodyguards led the way, and C

s exhausted, physically and mentally. She leaned in the back seat and closed her eyes.

Seeing her sleepy face, Carlos pulled her into his arms. "Get some rest," he suggested.

Debbie didn't refuse him. Smelling his cologne, she leaned on his shoulder and asked casually, "Why did you suddenly out us?"

With a smile, he stroked her hair and asked in reply, "Why ask that? You're not happy, are you?"

Debbie made herself more comfortable and grumbled, "That little scene back there is what I was trying to avoid. I'm still mad at you. I remember everything you did to me."

Stifling a giggle, he pinched her cheek and asked, "Really? So how do I make you happy?" Deep inside, he chuckled, 'Deb is so cute.'

"Um... We'll talk tomorrow." All she wanted right now was to sleep.

She was tired. That was a fact. The way she talked and the pale color of her face stung Carlos' heart. He decided to be still and let his wife sleep.

Thinking of Debbie's need for privacy, Carlos pulled out his phone and sent Emmett a text message saying, "Delete all news related to my wife."

He had gotten what he wanted—people now knew Debbie was his wife. He didn't think it necessary to make her life hell by having fans watch her every move.

"Yes, Mr. Huo." Emmett's reply came soon. Carlos' phone was not on mute, so the notification sound woke Debbie up.

She raised her eyes, looking at Carlos' jaw, and murmured, "Just to let you know, I cancelled our trip to the Maldives."