Reborn in the Enemy's Embrace

"Dexter, have you ever killed someone?" I asked under the dim lights.

He paused and looked at me intensely, neither answering nor denying.

"Go to sleep," he said, pulling back the covers for me to slip into.

I hesitated for a moment but eventually crawled in.

It was raining outside, and the room felt a bit cold. I hated the cold... Whenever it got cold, my muscles would tense up as if I was shivering.

I understood that I was someone who lacked a sense of security and love.

It was because of this lack of love that I had loved Damien for so many years in the past.

My love for Damien, perhaps, was just to fill the emptiness in my heart.

Honestly, everyone was selfish. Who could truly be selfless and live solely for one person in their heart and mind?

Take Damien, for example. He appeared to love Juliet so much, yet he did so many disgusting things to me.

Recalling those past experiences, it was truly nauseating....

Dexter went to take a shower, and the frosted glass door of the bathroom allowed in the yellowish light.

During the time we spent together, I noticed that Dexter liked to soak himself in the bathtub.

Many times, I worried that he might drown himself. This time was no different.

As I felt myself getting sleepy, he showed no sign of coming out.

"Dexter?" Strangely, I found myself worrying that he might die in there.

Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. The emptiness of the room was eerie, and he was in the bathroom... still not coming out, and there was no sound at all.

I got up and tentatively knocked on the door, but there was no response. I was starting to feel scared.

Scared that he might be dead, but how could a murderer die so easily?

"Dexter?" I pushed open the bathroom door suddenly, holding my breath.

The steam in the bathroom hadn’t dissipated yet, and he was curled up in the bathtub as if he had fallen asleep.

Perhaps he never intended to sleep with me from the beginning.

During the time trapped in the attic room, he also got used to soaking himself in the bathtub.

"Go sleep outside," I walked over and tugged at him.

He didn’t move, just curled up his body slightly.

I sensed something was wrong, so I reached out and touched his head.

Sure enough, he had a fever.

"Dexter?" I went out to turn on the lights and boiled water, looking for cold medicine.

"Sophia..."he seemed delirious, kept calling out for Sophia.

"Liar..."

I was helpless. Why did she keep saying Sophia was a liar? What did Sophia deceive him about?

"How did she lie to you?" I asked softly.

I wanted to know what exactly happened between Sophia and Dexter.

Though I had some memories from the original host, but... not all.

"You said, "Wait for me at the orphanage...’ What a big fire. Sophia... I have to wait for Sophia, I can’t leave. I have to wait for Sophia...."

I frowned, unable to hear clearly, so I leaned closer to try to hear better.

But as soon as I leaned in, he opened her eyes.

I froze for a moment, my heart skipping a beat.

I’d admitted more than once that he was good–looking, those eyes could really captivate a person’s soul.

My body stiffened, I wanted to explain, but when I opened my mouth, no words came out.

he glanced at me drowsily, then reached out and kissed me on the forehead.

Perhaps because of his fever, his touch was scorching....

"You..." It took all my rationality to push her away, and I sat down on the floor, looking at her with a complicated expression.

He sat in the bathtub, wearing only boxers, running his hand through his semi–long hair.

This boy was too devilishly handsome, and his legs were too long to fit in the bathtub.

His skin was fair, his abs were obvious, and his V–line was distinct....

In short, the scene before me was definitely enough to make one’s nose feel warm.

"You have a fever, take your medicine," I kept my composure and pushed the medicine toward him, avoiding eye contact, feeling my ears turn red.

It wasn’t my fault.

He was just too attractive.

Dexter’s hair was still damp, and he casually swept it back before taking the medicine.

I looked at him, feeling an indescribable sensation. Was he really this obedient? Would he listen to anything I said?

"Sit still and don’t move. I’ll blow dry your hair," I brought out the hairdryer and started drying his hair.

Surprisingly, he obediently sat in the bathtub without moving, as if he was genuinely well–behaved.

I was skeptical and tested him again. "You’ll sleep on the floor tonight, I’ll take the bed."

Dexter glanced back at me, his eyes innocent and captivating.

I thought he would refuse, but he nodded. "Okay."

"Will you agree to anything I say?" I asked.

Dexter nodded.

"So if I asked you to commit suicide, would you agree?" I asked curiously.

His body stiffened for a moment. Without turning to look at me, he just nodded.

"You really are... insane," I muttered quietly, getting up and leaving. "Come out and sleep, on the bed, but no moving around."

I lay on the bed, waiting for him to come out for a long time.

he walked to the side of the bed, hesitated for a moment, and still decided to sleep on the floor with a pillow.

"The floor is cold, sleep on the bed," I said, wrapping myself in the blanket.

"No..." he said, refusing with her head down.

"Why?" I asked, puzzled. We had slept together in the bed just a few days after my rebirth, and now we even had a child... Why was he acting so innocent?

"I’ll hurt you..." Dexter spoke softly.

"What?" I asked.

"I have a strong desire for you," he spoke bluntly.

I was stunned for a moment, then tightened the blanket around me. "Then sleep on the floor,"

Maybe there was someone by the bed that I slept pretty soundly that night.

When I woke up again, it was already noon.

Dexter was still on the floor, and it looked like his condition had worsened.

I touched his forehead and panicked as I ran out. "Where’s the butler? Call the doctor."

Dexter was sick, and it seemed to be getting worse. he had been unconscious for a long time and hadn’t woken up.

I felt guilty as I had let him sleep on the floor last night...

But he seemed too obedient, and he had really slept on the floor all night just because I said so.

Sitting on the sofa, I absentmindedly rubbed my forehead.

Then, my phone rang, and it took me a while to react. "Hello?"

"It’s me." The caller was Violette.

I was stunned for a moment and straightened up. "Violette."

"Someone else is in trouble again." Violette’s voice sounded hoarse over the phone.

"Who? Juliet?" I asked, alert.

If the motive for the murderer was the girls from the orphanage who were adopted wearing red clothes, then Juliet should be the only one left to be targeted.

"No," Violette sounded somewhat weary. "Has Dexter been with you recently? Last night at around one in the morning, some late–night joggers found a dead woman by Godrey River. She was also wearing a red dress, with pale skin, and we haven’t been able to identify her yet."

"He’s been with me the whole time, he doesn’t even have a phone..." I looked upstairs and saw he was still running a high fever, unconscious all night. There was no way he could have gone out and committed murder right under my nose.

"If it’s not the serial killer still at large, then someone is deliberately imitating them," Violette’s voice sounded tired. "But either way, if the murderer isn’t brought to justice, whether it’s Sophia or not, they won’t stop. Juliet really is the only lead we have, but that bastard Damien has been protecting her too well..."!

I knew that Damien’s protection of Juliet meant that the police couldn’t use her to solve the case. It would make solving the case much more difficult.

"I don’t know what your goal is, but right now, we need to get Damien to give up Juliet. Then we can use her to catch the real culprit, or else more people might end up dead," Violette’s voice was hoarse.

Since my death, it seemed like she had been obsessed with catching the killer.

I knew she blamed herself for not protecting me...