"What the hell are you doing?" Derek’s voice sliced through the tension in the room like a knife, causing both Dexter and Autumn to drift their focus towards him. He stood in the doorway, his tall frame rigid with barely contained fury. Dexter’s manic expression shifted abruptly into a cold, impassive mask. His eyes flicked to Autumn, and the silent warning in his gaze was unmistakable, urging her to play along.

But Autumn’s gaze didn’t waver. Her eyes locked onto Dexter’s, defiant and unyielding, silently telling him she wasn’t going to cooperate.

Dexter chuckled, the sound dark and mirthless. He reached out, tilting Autumn’s chin with the back of his...