Reborn in the Enemy's Embrace

Everyone was stunned.

They were clearly panicked and scared now, and they couldn’t tell what Dexter might do next.

Silence filled the living room.

But the silence only lasted for a few seconds before noise broke out again.

"What are you saying, you psycho?" The old woman’s son–in–law wanted to strike Dexter.

"The Black family has no responsibility to support you guys. You’ve taken their kindness for granted and even come knocking down the door for the money. How thick- skinned are you guys?" I stood defensively in front of Dexter.

Just then, the man who spoke earlier tried to shove me away.

However, Dexter swiftly and protectively held me in his arms and kicked the man away. "Don’t touch her!"

Dexter’s fierce air was incredibly strong as he gazed coldly at the man who’d been kicked to the floor. "I can grant you the death you seek."

Dexter then took a golf club from nearby and aimed it at the man.

"Ahh!" The man yelped and flinched. "Crazy, he’s crazy... He’s fucking crazy! He’s going to kill me!"

However, Dexter’s golf club didn’t land on the man. Instead, he held back as he shot me a look.

He would’ve probably struck the man with the club if I wasn’t here.

Was Dexter worried that the blood and violence might scare me? Or was he worried that I might be scared of him in the future?

The old woman was scared now too. She pointed at Dexter and stammered, "Y–You psycho!"

Dexter sneered and used the golf club to prod at the old woman until she sat back down on the couch.

She was so scared that she was nearly getting a heart attack.

Dexter then struck a glass pane with the golf club with all his might, shattering it.

The other Blacks grew pale with fright and longed to escape the more hysterical Dexter behaved.

"Don’t go yet... Didn’t you guys not want to live anymore?" Dexter grinned.

It was a frightening sight.

Dexter then continued breaking everything else around him.

He’d rather shatter these things into pieces than let the other Blacks take them away.

After all, he knew they had come here today to steal things from the house.

The other Blacks screamed and tried to escape, afraid that Dexter might lose control and strike them to death with the club.

Meanwhile, Dexter continued smashing the things around him hysterically.

"Do something about him, Ewan! He’s lost his mind!" the old woman’s daughter yelled

at Ewan.

But Ewan simply stood calmly with the other bodyguards, blocking the door.

He said apologetically, "Mr. Black is certified to be insane. No one can control him once he loses his mind."

Then, Ewan calmly took out a document verifying Dexter’s insanity from his coat pocket.

The other Blacks were scared out of their wits. They screamed and cried and tried to

run to safety.

The old woman’s son–in–law especially, had become extremely frightened the moment Dexter shoved him to the floor.

"He’s crazy, Mom! He’s crazy! Run for your lives!"

The living room was in chaos.

The son–in–law shoved Ewan away and ran out the door, abandoning the old woman and his wife.

The old woman was then supported by her daughter as they fled to safety.

"You psycho! The Black family is ruined in your hands, you madman!"

"It’s ruined for good!"

Silence soon befell the living room as everyone left.

I silently opened my mouth before giving Dexter a thumbs up.

Only madness could defeat madness, it seemed.

Dexter tossed away the golf club he was holding. Then, a pitiful look immediately

surfaced in his eyes as he said, "I’m scared, Sophia... I’m scared they’ll try to steal our things."

My lips twitched.

Who was the one who should be scared right now?

I know I sure was.

Ewan then explained, "Mrs. Black, these other relatives of the Blacks have always been taken care of by the family. They used to get monthly allowances ranging from ten thousand to fifty thousand a month when Mr. Black Senior was around."

"But it’s a pity they weren’t grateful for what they were given. So, Mr. Black cutting them off was a reasonable action."

I nodded. "You’re right to not give them the money. There’s no point supporting them. given the way they are." Ewan nodded.

"But they’re still part of the Black family. If they go and support Martin instead... "I

looked at Ewan.

"Rest assured, they’re just nobodies to the Black family," Ewan replied in an indifferent tone.

Meanwhile, Dexter was still holding my hand, feeling upset. Then, he deliberately showed me the cut that he got while smashing the glass. "Sophia... It hurts."

I took a glance at the wound on his hand.

It was bleeding, but it wasn’t as serious as the wounds he’d inflicted on himself the last time.

"I’ll get the first aid kit," I said.

Then, I led Dexter to the couch and sat him down before carefully tending to his wounds.

But suddenly, Dexter leaned in close to me and sniffed.

At the next moment, a menacing glint appeared in his eyes for a brief moment before quickly disappearing. "Sophia... You met up with Damien ."

I stared at Dexter in disbelief.

How did he know that?

"You got his smell–bad small." Dexter frowned.

I sniffed myself and glanced at him.

Did he have the nose of a dog or something?

"He..." But before I could explain, Dexter suddenly pressed my head to his and kissed me.

I struggled to push him away, aware that Ewan and the others were still present with us. However, Ewan nonchalantly turned around and led everyone out of the room. He even closed the door!

I continued to push Dexter away. But after failing to, I found myself struggling for breath from his kiss.

But it wasn’t even a kiss! It felt more like a punishment that left me gasping for air!

"Dexter... "I called his name, getting a little nervous and scared.

Something was wrong with him.

"Dexter" exclaimed in annoyance, still unable to push him away.

However, Dexter simply lifted me up and headed upstairs despite his bleeding hand.

"Dexter" I cried again. But for fear of falling, I dared not struggle too much. "I just happened to bump into him on the street. It’s not like I wanted to see him or anything. He’s just like a lingering ghost!"

I tried to explain myself to Dexter, but his mood remained gloomy.

I anew that he could be emotional and sometimes unpredictable, but... he was really frightening me now.

"Dexter... What are you doing?" I cautiously asked, worrying that he might lose control if I somehow provoked him.

Damien was right being with a lunatic meant that you’d never know when you might end up getting strangled to death by him one day.

But despite my cries, Dexter simply ignored me and carried me into the room.

After that, he started to take off my clothes in a fit of pique.

"Dexter" I struggled, impulsively slapping him on the face in the process.

Suddenly, Dexter stared at me, looking aggrieved. Then, he tightly hugged me again, saving. "Sophia... you’re mine, mine..."

His voice was trembling as he lifted my face. And as he did so, the blood from the back of his hand stained my skin–feeling both searing and scalding.

For some reason, Dexter’s quivering and pleading eyes deeply broke my heart.

At the same time, a voice in my mind kept telling me to hold him and coo him, telling me that he was actually easily pleased.

Then, Dexter suddenly lost control and clutched me as tight as he could. He then apologized, mumbling, "I’m sorry, Sophia... It’s all my fault. They locked me up, so you went to look for me, didn’t you? But you couldn’t find me anywhere... So, you’re punishing me now, aren’t you?"

Was he referring to the time when he was locked in the asylum for one and a half years?

"Sophia... They deserve to die... They deserve to die!" Dexter cried.

I originally intended to pet his head to calm him down, but at his words, my fingers

stiffened, and my hand froze in mid–air.

Despite his uncontrollable shivering, his violent demeanor continued to frighten me.

"Dexter... Have you ever... been involved in killing people before?" I asked in a hoarse voice.

But Dexter didn’t answer and simply kept tightly holding onto me.

"Dexter, I’m suddenly... curious to know more about you," I said as I put my hand on his head and stroked his hair.

His hair was soft, and it smelled like shampoo.

Just as Dexter had said to Zion–what was the murderer’s motive?

Perhaps I had been heading in the wrong direction all this while. I was too fixated on identifying the murderer. But perhaps I should’ve focused on uncovering the motive behind the killings instead.

I needed to unravel the truth about the fire at the orphanage. I needed to pay the doctor at the asylum a visit and find out what Dexter had really gone through all this time.