Chapter 650

Debra bit her lip, clutching the coat tighter around herself. “I can’t change on my own.”

“What? One whip and you’re immobilized?”

“My arm is dislocated.”

Drake paused for a moment before stepping closer to lift the coat. “What are you doing?” Debra covered her chest.

“Don’t move,” Drake commanded.

Debra stayed still, and he carefully lifted her right arm. Sure enough, her shoulder was out of place. “How’d this happen?” he asked without looking up.

“Who else could it be? Your loyal servant, Peter,” she retorted. “He’s mad about me snitching on him earlier. He deliberately dislocated my arm and tried to force himself on Lara, threatening to throw her into the sea to feed sharks. Then, when I defended her, he decided to turn his attention to me. Gotta hand it to you. Your ability to pick employees is spot on. They’re a perfect reflection of your character.”

Drake shot her a cold look, unamused by her biting tone. “Maybe it’s best to leave your arm dislocated then.”

He turned to leave, but Debra, with her uninjured arm, quickly grabbed onto him. “This whole mess is because you can’t control your people, and you’re gonna punish me for it?”

“You sure talk a lot. If you were any less charming, I might’ve shot you just for the headache.”

“Fine. I take back what I said. But seriously, call a doctor to fix my arm. If you leave it too long, it’ll never heal properly.”

Drake saw fear in her eyes for the first time and arched a brow. “You’re not afraid of death. Now you’re worried about your arm?”

“I’m alive and kicking. I won’t lose an arm for nothing,” Debra reasoned. “If you’re unwilling to help, I’ll do it myself.”

Debra struggled to move her arm, wincing at the effort. Drake grabbed her arm, pulling it back down. “Are you insane? You can’t just pop it back in yourself.”

“What else am I supposed to do when you won’t help?” Debra said righteously.

Drake sighed, reminding himself over and over that Debra still had her uses. Sitting beside her, he carefully took her arm and shoulder in his hands. Debra shrank back, startled. “What are you doing?”

“Fixing your arm. Hold still.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing? You’re not a doctor. You can’t be serious.”

Before she could finish, there was a loud snap, and her bone slid back into place. Debra gasped, sucking in a sharp breath from the pain, but moments later, she was able to move her arm again. “Is it fixed?”

“Count yourself lucky I didn’t break it further.”

Drake got up and went to the bathroom to wash his hands. Debra watched him, still shocked. “Since when does a CEO like you know how to reset bones?”