Chapter 200 I couldn’t help but laugh despite myself as he managed to tickle my funny bone. “Alright, hold tight. I’m off to run you a bath.” He nodded obediently, but as I turned away, I noticed a shadow pass over his face, his expression darkening. When I came back to tell him the tub was ready, I could have sworn I saw him fiddling with my phone. “Phoebe, my hand really hurts.” Just as I was about to grab my phone, he winced, claiming his hand was in pain. Sure enough, the white bandage was soaked through with blood. I quickly fetched the first aid kit, redressed his wound, and coaxed him into the bath, drying his hair afterward. He was as docile as a golden retriever, quietly letting me take care of him. By the time I’d put His Highness to bed, I was dead on my feet. He gave me a wry smile and pulled me into his embrace. “Phoebe… time for sleep.” I was reluctant, sensing some kind of scheme in the air. But exhaustion overcame suspicion, and as soon as I lay down in his arms, sleepiness washed over me. His room always had this subtle scent of sandalwood, comforting and perfect for a peaceful sleep. And I drifted off. There was no need to check on Melody and Dexter since they were just playing their games; I had already alerted the cops. Robin was on his way, and he’d be much more useful than me. If it was all an act, Robin would give them a piece of his mind. But if it wasn’t… with Robin there, hopefully, the perpetrator would be caught. That night, I dreamed Dexter stood before me, drenched in blood, smiling. “Phoebe, I’ve come to join you.” I recoiled in disgust, but he kept advancing. “Phoebe… I’m sorry; how about I join you and the kid in the afterlife?” I shouted back at him, “No! Stay away! You’ll taint my path to reincarnation.” His eyes brimming with tears, he said, “Phoebe, I’m sorry, I never knew how to love anyone else. I just wanted you to fall for me…” 1/2 址 10:10 Chapter 200 “Get lost!” I screamed. In my struggle, I must have kicked something hard. My eyes snapped open, my breath quick, sweat beading on my forehead. As I came to, the daylight was already spilling into the room. Turning around, I saw Colin sitting on the floor, his fluffy head peeking out, eyes looking at me. innocently. “I…” What did I do to him? “Phoebe… you kicked me.” Colin’s voice was laced with injury as he climbed onto the bed, taking my hand. “Rub it, it hurts.” Apparently, I had kicked him really hard. He was only wearing boxer shorts and placed my hand near his groin. I blushed furiously. What was he playing at this early in the morning? “Phoebe… it’s swollen.” He looked at me with puppy–dog eyes, implying my kick had left a mark. Sometimes, I really felt like calling the cops on him. Was he playing dumb or truly clueless? “You…” I warned him with a pointed finger to cut the act, but he just playfully bit my finger. I couldn’t be bothered with him and wanted to check my phone. “Phoebe… I’m starving.” And with that, he pinned me down and kissed me. I suspected he was deliberately stalling me from checking my phone, but I had no proof. Every time he’d pout, what could I do? “Phoebe…” He always liked to call my name in moments of passion. The sunlight was warm, filtering through the sheer curtains into the room. Everything felt like a dream, yet the flush in my cheeks and the heat coursing through my veins kept me acutely aware. I must be going mad. The phone buzzed incessantly, and I reached out, pushing Colin away with disdain. When did I put it on silent? The caller was an unknown number. “Where are you? It’s Stella. Why aren’t you answering mine or Robin’s calls? Dexter’s in trouble!”