Chapter 59: 59 | Pure Jealousy
Fortunately, Dexter returned at that moment, carrying a simple ceramic cup filled with hot, steaming tea.
The tea leaves he had used were from the system’s rewards, highly refined spiritual tea leaves that carried a faint, natural sweet aroma. The steam rising from the cup carried a quiet, soothing energy that immediately filled the room.
Rachel took the cup, her fingers brushing against his hand for a brief intentional second. She took a slow, delicate sip.
Her green eyes widened in instant surprise.
"This is... incredible," she murmured, looking down at the pale amber liquid. "The mana density in these leaves is remarkably high. Even the specialized tea served at the high-level guild meetings cannot compare to this. What kind of tea is this, Dexter?"
Dexter rubbed the back of his neck, offering a helpless, casual shrug. "I honestly don’t know. I bought a small bag of it randomly from an old merchant in the lower market a while ago. He said it was just a local wild blend."
Rachel looked highly unconvinced, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied his face. She knew very well that such highly refined, pure spiritual tea could not possibly be bought randomly in a cheap lower market. But seeing that he had no intention of sharing his source, she chose not to push the matter.
She took another sip, then carefully placed the cup down on the small wooden side table.
"I’ve been expecting you at the Hero Association branch for a while now, you know," she said, her tone shifting to a gentle, playful scolding. "You kept me waiting for hours, Dexter. I had to push back several important meetings because I thought you would show up."
Dexter offered an apologetic, awkward smile. "Sorry about that, Rachel. We had some things to sort out here around the house first. I was actually planning to head over there today."
Rachel’s green eyes brightened instantly. "Perfect! I have my car parked outside. We can complete the paperwork here, and then we can drive over to the Association together. It will save you a lot of time, and I can guide you through the registration process personally."
At that exact moment—
"Hmph."
A loud, cold, and highly irritated snort echoed from the wheelchair by the window.
Dexter turned his head. Mira was glaring at him, her dark eyes flashing with a dangerous, sharp light.
He blinked, feeling a sudden cold sweat forming on his back. He walked to her and in front of her as he asked. "Do you need something, Mira?"
Mira glanced at him indifferently, her voice extremely cold.
"You men really aren’t satisfied with what you have, are you? Flirt."
"What—" Dexter shook his head rapidly.
But Mira let out cold snort as she closed her eyes.
Dexter opened his mouth and closed it. Trying to explain. But he knew it would come out wrong so he calmed down and replied.
"Rachel is here for official business," he said slowly, keeping his voice calm and steady.
The small living room became incredibly, suffocatingly quiet.
Dexter stood there, feeling like a criminal standing before a highly unsympathetic judge. He rubbed his forehead, trying to find his words.
"And for the record, I have not flirted with anyone."
He paused, looking at Mira’s smooth hair and milky neck, and then at Selene, who was sitting silently at the dining table.
"I haven’t even flirted with the three of you yet," he added with a whisper only she could hear.
"So why on earth would I suddenly start flirting with someone else?"
Mira opened her eyes and glanced at him for a brief, fleeting second, her sharp expression faltered.
A beautiful, deep redness climbed up her neck and quickly spread toward her cheeks, coloring her pale skin.
"Hmph. Glib tongue," she muttered, turning her head even further away so he could not see her face.
Dexter let out a quiet sigh of relief, then went back to Rachel, offering an apologetic smile. "I’m really sorry about that. She’s been through a lot of stress lately, and their nerves are a bit frayed."
Rachel, however, looked thoroughly entertained. She was leaning back against the sofa, her chin resting on her hand, a wide, amused smile on her face.
"I can see that, Dexter," she laughed softly. "You certainly have a very lively household."
Dexter coughed awkwardly, desperately trying to steer the conversation back to a safe, professional topic. "So... what exactly did you need to clarify regarding the bridge incident?"
Rachel quickly opened her leather folder, pulling out several official documents covered in neat, typed text.
She began to ask him basic, standard questions about the assassination attempt.
She asked if any suspicious individuals had been seen loitering around the neighborhood since then. She inquired if he had thought of any specific enemies—either from his past or from his family’s connections—who would want him dead.
Dexter shook his head firmly. "I don’t have any personal enemies, Rachel. Our families cut ties with us. We aren’t a threat to anyone anymore. We are just trying to live a quiet life here. So honestly... I have no idea why anyone would target us."
Rachel nodded thoughtfully, her pen scratching against the paper as she took notes. Once she finished, she closed the folder with a sharp snap and slid it back into her bag.
She stood up from the sofa, smoothing her white suit jacket. She walked toward Dexter, stopping just a foot away from him.
Her green eyes locked onto his, a sudden, soft light appearing within them.
"You know, Dexter," she whispered, her voice low and intimate. "I really enjoyed the time we spent together at the hotel bar. It was... refreshing."
Dexter’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately coughed, his survival instincts screaming at him.
Unfortunately—
Mira heard every single word.
’Crack.’
The small ceramic teacup sitting on the side table beside her wheelchair suddenly shattered into several pieces, the hot water spilling across the wood.
A heavy, suffocating silence filled the room.
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