Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace ( Dexter )
Chapter 164

Chapter 164

“Mr. Fitzgerald… The driver glanced back nervously at Dexter.

Dexter didn’t say a word; instead, he let out a sudden chuckle, “Let’s roll.”

“If that Foebe dame leaks the recording…” The driver worried about Dexter’s reputation getting dragged through the mud.

“She wouldn’t dare.” Dexter seemed brimming with confidence. I’ve got ways to make her come begging to me.”

I was hiding behind the door, heaving a sigh of relief as Dexter left.

The man was ruthless, stopping at nothing to get what he wanted. I had dodged a bullet this time, but I might not be so lucky the next.

I figured he’d only connected the dots between Foebe and those street kids but hadn’t nailed down any solid link between Foebe and the murderer.

Taking a deep breath, I felt a headache coming on.

What exactly was the connection between Foebe and the murderer?

Was she feeding and helping these kids just to coax them into murder? Was the woman really that monstrous?

The reunion had shown me that Foebe was a woman with a particularly timid and insecure nature; she was easily manipulated.

Could it be that she had turned vicious after being bullied so hard?

My heart was in turmoil, fearing that if I kept digging and the trail led to the woman Foebe. And that would make me a witch in Salem trial.

The last thing I needed was to end up in the slammer before the real culprit was found. That would be the ultimate downer.

“Phoebe… As I stepped into the living room, there was Colin. He seemed flustered, probably woke up and didn’t replace me around.

“I’m here,” I quickly soothed him.

Colin rushed over and embraced me tightly, “I thought…you didn’t want me anymore.”

He was shaking, his voice also quivering. He seemed to live each day in terror and fear.

The living room was abuzz with outrage; the clan was making a ruckus again.

“We need a straight answer on this; the old man can’t make decisions now, and we’ve got mouths to feed, right? Why should our gravy train stop?”

“Yeah, what gives that lunatic the right to cut off the dough the Langley family owes us?”

Chapter 164)

This time it wasn’t Henry leading the charge but the other branches of the Langley family, demanding their monthly stipends.

Eric had told me that in better days, Brendan, out of a sense of kinship, would dole out living allowances to the Langley relatives every month, the amount based on how closely related they were.

The old man falls ill, and Colin cuts them off? No wonder they were up in arms.

Puzzled, I looked at Colin. “You cut off their allowances?”

Colin nodded innocently, “Why should I give to them? I’d rather feed dogs…”

I took a deep breath, wanting to give Colin a thumbs–up. Even a dog knows to bite the hand. of an intruder.

But those people were just leeches.

Besides, charity begets disdain; the Langley family had no obligation to support these people. And after years of doing so, they’d raised a pack of ingrates.

“I’m telling you, Caleb Langley, we don’t acknowledge you as part of the Langley family. You’re a madman, and you better get out of the Langley estate and give us what’s ours, or we won’t let this go,” the old lady at the front spat venomously. She seemed like Brendan’s cousin.

“Yeah, we can’t survive without that money, you have to give it to us.”

“Hand it over, or I swear I’ll end it right here,” others joined in the commotion.

Colin, who was called Caleb in the Langley family, stood in front of me, casting an indifferent glance back at them. “If you can live, live; if not, go die.”

The group was dumbstruck, wanting to lash out at Colin, but his presence was too intimidating, the air around him suggesting he might snap and turn violent at any moment, which frightened them.

Can’t

“You are like half–dead maggots popping up now and then to be a nuisance. you just go die quietly; or do I have to lend a hand?” Colin tilted his head with a cold gaze, signaling Eric

to shut the front door.

It felt as if…once that door slammed, the slaughter would begin.

I swallowed hard, a twinge of fear in my gut.

He wouldn’t really kill them, would he?