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

"A thousand people?" Debra's voice wavered.

"Yes," Drake confirmed casually, but the glint in his eye suggested he relished the challenge he had thrown her way.

Debra's mind raced as she recalled the grand piano in the plaza. Sure, it was a prime spot, but just playing piano alone wouldn't be enough to draw such a crowd.

And she would be competing with zither, cello, and violin performers for attention.

Beating them and attracting one thousand audiences was almost impossible.

As she pondered, Drake added, "You can still back out now."

"No, I can do it," she said firmly, heading downstairs.

"Boss, a thousand people? Isn't that a bit much?" the manager said.

Drake's amusement flickered as he noted Debra's determined stride. He figured it wouldn't take more than half an hour before she came back, defeated.

As Debra navigated the square, she found it teeming with life-couples laughing on dates, workers just off their shifts, dog walkers chatting, and groups gathered for spirited dancing. She pushed through the crowd until she reached the grand piano at the heart of it all.

Inside the casino, Drake had been waiting for over half an hour. Still, there was no sign of Debra coming back.

He asked curiously, "What's her situation now?"

The manager replied, "I think Ms. Frazier must have given up. I mean, even if she played until her fingers fell off, she wouldn't attract one thousand people."

Drake's glare deterred him from saying more.

Just then, a breathless security guard burst into the room. "Boss, something's gone wrong outside."

Drake shot up from his chair and strode outside.

When he arrived, he was met with a

massive crowd. The security team struggled to carve a path through

the

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"Do you even know who I am?" shouted a middle-aged man. "If I say you come home with me, you do it."

"Let go of me!" Debra shouted, panic lacing her voice as she struggled against his grip.

The man's bloated face twisted with anger. "I am the CEO of the Lowe Group and the owner of the casino. You're lucky to have my eyes on you. Now you're coming with me

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"Help!" Debra cried, her voice rising in desperation.

Just as the man reached to rip at her clothing, Drake's bodyguards rushed forward and pinned him on the ground.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

The casino manager snapped, "How dare you impersonate Mr. Lowe?"

Drake's presence commanded immediate attention. The people around him whispered among themselves.

"Wow, who's that? He's hot."

"You don't know? That's the real CEO of the Lowe Group."

"So, the other guy was a fake? He must be crazy to do such a thing."

The whispers attracted even more people.

Debra's expression changed, and man begged for mercy, "I'm sor hit me. I just got paid to do this."