Chapter 156 | Strange Lady…

Chapter 156: 156 | Strange Lady...

Morning came quietly.

Dexter woke around 5:00 AM, as he always did.

The sky outside was still dark and the neighborhood was also silent with occasional sounds of dogs barking.

He showered, dressed in a clean grey wig-beater and a dark joggers, then began his morning routine.

Breakfast was simple today — Celestial Spirit Bean porridge with honey, soft scrambled eggs, and warm Star-Shaped Leaf tea.

He kept the portions moderate. The girls’ bodies were still processing yesterday’s concentrated wave of nourishment, and overloading them again so soon would be counterproductive.

He woke the girls one by one.

Lyra first with a typed message on his phone, [Wake up. Breakfast is ready.] held in front of her face until her eyes opened. She nodded, stretched, and shuffled to the bathroom.

Selene was alredy awake but she didn’t look at him directly. However, she didn’t avoid him either.

After making breakfast, he pushed her wheelchair to the bathroom, helped her through her morning routine.

"Unclasping a bra with two fingers. You’re quite the expert now aren’t you."

Mira smiled wickedly as she watched him take care of her.

Dexter responded half-heartedly.

"Yeah. My fingers are quite magical, aren’t they?"

Mira was stunned at Dexter’s quick retort which made her remember about yesterday’s incident.

"You—"

"You what? Didn’t you start it?"

Dexter chuckled as he wagged his fingers in front of her face and laughed as Mira glared at him with a Mixture of anger and embarrassment.

Without waiting for her to speak anymore, he took care of her. He also noticed the flush from yesterday had faded entirely but it came back when he made fun of her.

...

Breakfast was eaten in silence. The Celestial Spirit Bean porridge was well-received and even Mira finished her entire bowl without complaint, though she would rather die than admit she enjoyed it.

After breakfast, Dexter left the girls to their own devices and stepped outside to the front porch.

The street was quiet, most residents already gone to work or school.

Dexter knelt on the porch with a bag of seeds and several empty clay pots. He filled each pot with dark, rich soil from the backyard, patted it flat, and carefully pressed small holes into the earth with his thumb. Into each hole, he dropped a single seeds and soon his hands were soon caked with soil.

Also, his grey wife beater were also a stained with dirt. He didn’t mind though and he found it deeply satisfying planting seeds.

"Vrooom!"

He was halfway through the fifth pot when a car pulled up to the curb.

Dexter glanced up briefly.

It was a luxury BMW.

The engine purred loudly like a beast.

Dexter’s eyes lingered on it for a moment, then he returned to his planting.

’Must be visiting one of the neighbors. Probably Grandma Lucy’s relatives.’

’Though why they’d park in front of my house instead of hers is beyond me.’

He shrugged mentally and went back to pressing seeds into soil.

Thirty seconds passed.

Then—

"Knock. Knock."

Dexter frowned and he looked up, staring at the gate for a moment, then brushed his palms against his joggers and stood up.

He walked to the gate, unlatched the lock, and pulled it open.

A woman stood on the other side.

The woman standing on the other side of the gate had orange hair that caught the morning sunlight and threw it back in warm, reddish-gold threads.

It fell past her shoulders in carefully styled waves, it was obvious she had spent hours achieving the appearance of effortless beauty.

A pair of red-framed sunglasses on her face, partially covering her orange eyes.

She was dressed in a tailored cream blouse, high-waisted charcoal trousers, and pointed heels with a leather handbag on her shoulder, and thin gold earrings glinted beneath her hair.

Everything about her screamed money, wealth and taste.

"Can I help you?"

The woman’s amber gaze traveled from his face down to his chest, then to his dirty hands, then back up to his face.

Her lips thinned un disdain as ash spoke arrogantly.

"Who are you?"

Dexter’s eyes blinked, slightly stunned.

"You came to my house and you’re asking me who I am?"

"Wrong address, lady."

He immediately pulled the gate shut, then turn back to continue his work.

He hadn’t taken two steps before—

"Knock. Knock."

Dexter stopped. Closed his eyes. Counted to three. Then turned around, walked back, and pulled the gate open again.

"What do you want?"

The woman’s expression hardened and her amber eyes flashing with irritation and arrogance.

"You dare slam the door against my face?"

She glared at Dexter but inhaled deeply and calmed down and said sharply. "I’m sure I have the right address. No. 18, Willow Creek Lane, Fenmore street. "

"Yes, this is the house," Dexter interrupted flatly.

"Then this is the right address. I’m looking for my sister." The woman’s chin lifted as she looked down on Dexter indifferently.

"I assume you’re the gardener?"

Dexter’s expression didnr change but his eyes sharpened.

Gardener.

He looked at the woman again. Then he noticed the hair again, it wasn’t crimson but it was familiar and also, the facial structure was similar too. The same proud, deliberate way of holding her head.

’Sister.’

This woman was looking for Mira. Which meant she was a Calloway.

But Dexter didn’t say any of that.

"I’m no gardener," he said, his voice flat and stripped of warmth. "State your business here."

The woman frowned. Her lips parted as if to deliver another sharp retort — then stopped as her amber eyes narrowed, studying his face.

Then her eyes flashed.

A slow, knowing smirk curled across her lips.

"You’re not the gardener, which means you’re Dexter," she said. "The bastard son of the Ashford family."

She said it as though she was sating singling filthy.

"The ’conniving’ bastard son of the Ashford family," she mocked as her face hardened.

Instantly, her aura exploded.

"Weng!"

As though a mountain had landed on him, awall of compressed, dense and heavy pressure slammed into Dexter.

The pressure radiated outward from her body in visible waves, distorting the air around her and the grass on the side of the walkway flattened as though pressed by an invisible hand.

Ultra Realm!