Reborn in the Enemy's Embrace

"Sophia..." Damien tried to continue, but I had already instructed the butler to shut the door.

Violette and Zion stopped Damien from advancing. "Mr. Coleman, if you really do end up dying out here, it’ll make things difficult for your doctors."

Lisa’ face had turned ashen. She looked at Damien with a mixture of frustration and disbelief in her expression. "Damien, I think you’ve truly lost your mind."

Lisa was an independent woman in the modern world, after all. I could see the weariness and disbelief in her eyes. She probably never imagined that her son would end up in such a state.

I shook my head helplessly and walked into the living room.

After I left, Violette sent me a text. She told me that Lisa was on the verge of going mad from anger because of Damien. It turned out that Lisa was wondering if her son had been possessed by spirits or replaced by someone else.

Lisa had even asked her assistant to inquire about the best exorcist in Huma. She said that she wanted the exorcist to perform an exorcism and also protect her family against any potential harm.

I was taken aback to hear that. I could only let out a resigned smile.

Everyone knew that there was no way the dead could come back to life. Lisa was

Damien’s mother, after all. It wasn’t surprising that she was looking for other reasons to pin all of Damien’s unhinged behavior on at this time.

I figured that Lisa must hate me a lot at this moment. She probably regretted adopting met into the Coleman family and ruining her son.

It was because of me that Damien turned out this way, after all.

Sure enough, I received another text from Violette before reaching the place where I was supposed to meet Eason. She told me that Lisa had brought an exorcist to my gravesite.

Rituals were being performed to ward off evil spirits at this moment. It turned out that the evil spirit Lisa was trying to banish was me.

Violette said that they were going to perform some special rites–for me to prevent my spirit from lingering around Damien.

"Mrs. Black, we’re here."

At some point, the Black family’s driver had started speaking to me with a lot more respect in his tone. I didn’t think it was a big deal. However, I realized that the household staff had started addressing Dexter the same way too.

It felt as if they regarded Dexter as the head of the Black household now.

I didn’t think much of it. James had become a vegetable with little to no chance of waking up, after all. Furthermore, was now a paralyzed invalid after his stroke. He could Ignatius not even take care of himself, let alone make any decisions for the household.

It was clear that Dexter was the head of the Blacks now.

I glanced around after getting out of the car.

StamColeman was a prestigious university located between Huma and Jacaster. It was the best university in the country and the only one that offered advanced classes to geniuses.

I didn’t know why Eason invited me here. However, I was rather angry. I was already three minutes late due to traffic, after all. I had expected Eason to be upset with me. But to my surprise, it turned out that he still hadn’t arrived.

I had never liked people who weren’t punctual. Damien was a very punctual person. He measured time to the second. If I ran late to meet up with him at our appointed time or somehow displeased him, he would always find a way to punish me.

As a result, I became a very punctual person. I would become very anxious if the person I agreed to meet with at a certain time didn’t show up.

I started to wonder if I was being played for a fool again.

I took out my phone and called Eason.

"Didn’t you tell me to meet you at the designated location around this time?" I asked.

On the other end of the call, Eason sounded as if he was gritting his teeth as he spoke,

"And didn’t I tell you not to tell that psycho, Dexter, about this meeting?"

I was taken aback to hear that. "I didn’t tell him anything. After reading the note, I threw it into the trash can at the hospital. I’m sure nobody saw it. Dexter doesn’t know," I replied, feeling bewildered.

Eason chuckled at that. Then, I heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end. It sounded as if he was in pain. "I knew I couldn’t hide it from that lunatic. He must have seen the note somehow and had someone beat me up in advance. I’m too embarrassed to show my face anywhere now!"

Eason continued to grumble over the phone, "I’m certain that it was him. I can’t be wrong. He knows I care most about my looks, so he deliberately had someone hit me in the face!"

I was starting to get upset by the accusations Eason made. "Stop slandering my husband’s name. He needs assistance for basic living needs, you know. If he had the ability to get someone to beat you up, he wouldn’t have gotten bullied by Mr. Black Senior and Mr. James back then."

If Dexter was really capable of getting someone to beat Eason up, he wouldn’t have let himself get bullied by Ignatius and James in the past.

Sometimes, I wondered if Dexter really was the murderer. Would a murderer really allow themselves to be abused that way, despite being capable of all that?

"So are you saying that the people who used to wrong him are tucked away safe and sound now?" Eason asked in a meaningful tone on the other end.

My heart skipped a beat upon hearing that. I widened my eyes and asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"Dexter’s dad, Mr. Andy, died. His death is closely related to his uncle, Mr. James. Even Mr. Martin and the rest of the Black family were involved with it. As you’ve seen, James’ fate has already been sealed.

"And now, even Mr. Ignatius, who condoned the murderer, is also bedridden. Do you honestly think Dexter had nothing to do with all of it?" Eason said in a low voice and sneered.

I fell silent. I knew deep down that I did not trust Dexter completely. But I had known him since we were kids. I knew that he was fundamentally a good person.

"I guess that lunatic thought that by swelling up my face, I wouldn’t be able to take you to see that place. He has definitely underestimated me," Eason said. He seemed eager to challenge Dexter.

Eason’s speech over the phone was a bit stuttered. I figured his face must be bruised up quite badly.

Eason was often cold and aloof, after all. It was difficult for me to imagine what he looked like all beaten up.

"Have you arrived at Stamford?" he asked again.

"Yeah, I’m already here," I replied while glancing around.

"Pass your phone to the guards when you walk into the campus. I’ll let them know to let you in. Just follow my instructions," he said.

I didn’t know what Eason was up to. Even so, I followed his instructions and traversed through the Stamford campus according to his directions.

He told me to walk across à field to get through a small gate. Then, I was asked to head toward a row of apartments located behind the school.

"You’re not playing games with me, are you?" I asked through gritted teeth. I was losing my patience.

"Why would I do that? I’m right behind you. What are you so afraid of?" Eason teased.

I glanced back. No wonder It felt like someone was following me the whole time.

Eason had pulled his cap low. He had a face mask and a pair of sunglasses on. He even had his hoodie pulled over his baseball cap. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d think he was a celebrity trying to avoid the public gaze.

"Is all that necessary?" I asked, my lips twitching with amusement.

"I’d rather be beheaded than have my face looking ugly out in public. If this ends up ruining my handsome features, he doesn’t need to work hard to get me killed. I’ll jump off a building myself," Eason said through gritted teeth.

My lips curled into an amused smile. When I saw Eason at the hospital the other day, he sounded so aloof and arrogant. I thought he would be a difficult person to approach, but who would have thought that he would be such an amusing idiot?

"Let’s go to the apartment building on the third row," Eason said, then hung up the phone and walked alongside me.

I glanced at him through his sunglasses. He was sporting dark bruises on both eyes, making him look a bit like a panda.

I was rendered speechless. I couldn’t help but wonder if Dexter was really capable of

getting someone to beat Eason up. It felt impossible.

Dexter couldn’t even stand the pain of his wound making contact with water. He would always tear up when that happened. How could someone like that possibly instruct someone to beat another person up?

Eason led me into the apartment building and down to the basement.

I felt a little scared for some reason. I didn’t know why, but the place felt eerie and cold.

"Are you scared? You have the guts to marry a lunatic. I thought you’d be braver," Eason scoffed and said with a sharp edge in his tone. However, he didn’t seem like a bad guy.

"This apartment is private property. It belongs exclusively to that lunatic. The only reason I’m even allowed in here is solely based on my good looks," Eason said proudly. It turned out that he had charmed the administrator at the apartment’s entrance with his appearance.

I followed Eason from behind. Every step forward felt heavier than the one I took before

The apartment was old, so the basement was very chilly. However, it wasn’t very damp because it wasn’t completely underground.

The walls were covered in graffiti. were many scribbles of formulas and numbers.

It was cles: that Dexter had lived here when he was taking advanced classes at Stamford.

"But I thought the Blacks took him in when he was studying in Stamford? Why would he live in a basement like this if that were the case?" I asked, feeling puzzled. I touched the wall lightly with my fingers and felt a sharp electric shock shoot through me.

"He’s like a vampire who can’t stand the light. He loves dark places," Eason said grumpily. Then, he pushed open a door in the basement that made a loud creaking sound.

I followed Eason inside the room. The place was spacious, and there were shelves lining the walls. They were all covered by black cloth.

Eason reached out and pulled away the black cloth. Once the black cloth was off, I

instantly froze in my place.

Fear began to spread through my entire body.