Chapter 418 Listen To Me

The elevator doors slowly closed. But the air still reeked of alcohol. Debbie heaved a sigh of relief after Carlos walked away, but meanwhile, she felt sadness digging deep into her heart.

She wondered if she and Carlos would be like strangers from now on.

That was not her goal. Things were not going the way she planned, the way she hoped. 'Did I lose Carlos forever?' she thought gloomily.

The elevator arrived at the seventh floor and she walked out, heading for her apartment. Unexpectedly, she saw a familiar figure standing by the door to her apartment, like a bum as usual. Debbie set her luggage by the door and asked coldly, "What are you doing here?" Decker hadn't replied to any of her messages for the past few months. She wondered if he was dead.

Decker said nothing, just stared at her.

Suddenly, another important question popped into her mind. "How did you even get in here?" she asked. Champs Bay Apartments was one of the most high-end blocks in the city. No outsiders could enter without permission. Back when she was actively trying to get close to Carlos, she pulled some strings to enter this neighborhood. It wasn't easy, and random people couldn't just go strolling in.

Debbie didn't think her unreliable brother would know any big shots here—or anywhere else for that matter.

Barely moving, he merely cast her a glance and demanded in a husky voice, "Open the door now."

A hint of blood reached Debbie's nostrils. Worried, she quickly took off her sunglasses and scanned Decker up and down. His face was drained of all color. His T-shirt was stained a deep red. It looked slick and wet.

It was a bloodstain! "My god! You okay?"

Decker leaned against the wall to support his body. There was a pained look on his face. Covering his waist, he closed his eyes and repeated, "Open the door!"

Worried about him, Debbie quit asking questions and quickly opened the door to her apartment. Decker immediately staggered inside and closed the door behind him.

In a split second, as if drained of all energy, he slumped onto the floor at the doorway.

He was not a good brother, but Debbie couldn't bear to see this. She shook her head resignedly and went over to help him up. "What the hell have you gotten yourself into now? Who did you piss off this time?"

Wearing a deathly pale face, Decker managed to get to his feet with Debbie's help. "Medicine..." he said in a weak voice.

Debbie got angry. "What medicine? Are you nuts? This looks serio

brows deeply at the sight of each other.

"Eckerd?" That was the last person Carlos expected to see. How did Debbie know him? Why would he go straight to her place after getting hurt? Hundreds of questions popped up in Carlos' mind.

Decker heaved a sigh. He scoffed, "Mr. Huo, what do you want by creeping into a woman's apartment at midnight? Imagine what the tabloids will say."

Carlos sniffed the air. Blood. Instead of answering Decker's question, he asked, "Yates' men around?"

"Don't...know." Decker turned his body, trying to hide his wound from Carlos.

Carlos wasn't interested in his grudges with Yates anyway, so he stopped asking. "Why are you here? Who's Debbie to you, anyway?"

"That's...ugh! That's for me to know, and you to...find out." Decker smiled mischievously.

Carlos' face fell. He took out his phone and called Frankie. "I need a background check on Eckerd." Carlos continued, rattling off details over the phone like height, weight, approximate age, and known aliases.

Decker was dumbfounded. This man was so damn efficient.

Carlos didn't know much about Eckerd. All he knew was that Yates hated him, and the feeling was mutual. Last time when Carlos dined with Yates, Eckerd's men started a fight with Yates' retinue. It ended up with shots fired.

"Get...out of here. My home." Decker tried to drive him away. But he wasn't in any position to make demands.

Carlos was possessed of a legendary cruelty. He even outdid Yates when someone crossed the line. 'Why would my stupid sis fall for an a-hole like that?' he thought to himself.

"Your home?" Carlos raised an eyebrow. "What would Ivan say about that?"