Fang King’s Witch

Chapter Six

Cara’s brow arched, a sly, almost wicked smile tugging at her lips. Someone had clearly been very naughty while she’d been away, and if she discovered that the little Smith’s missus had dared hurt her mother… well, there would be consequences.

“That’s in the past now. Besides, I can guarantee Cara isn’t that kind of person,” Rae said defensively, smiling at Cara, who returned it with quiet gratitude.

“You must be hungry. There are noodles in the pot. Get yourself a bowl while I prepare her bed,” Rae added, moving toward Cara’s new bedroom.

“I’ll go with Mom,” Cara muttered to Dexter, who narrowed his eyes at her.

Rae busied herself with the bed, shooting Cara a grateful glance as the girl pitched in. Rae didn’t know how to act around this daughter she barely recognized, so she opted for cautious reserve, making the atmosphere thick with awkward tension.

But Cara sensed her mother’s unease and gently tugged her into light conversation, filling the gaps with ease. Being an orphan in her previous life, she had never known what it meant to truly have a family—but she was curious, and strangely, not opposed to finding out.

Once the bed was ready, Rae led her back to the kitchen and offered watermelon for dessert.

“She’s the eldest daughter from a wealthy family. She can’t be bothered to stoop to our level. Let her be,” Dexter muttered sarcastically, casting a glare at his niece.

Rae sighed, recalling the same words Cara had used when she first sought her out at school. Without Rae’s intervention, Dexter would have beaten her to a pulp that day.

“You heard Cara. She’s sorry,” Rae said apologetically.

“Rae, the child you raised is already ungrateful. How much worse could one raised in wealth be?” Dexter grumbled.

Rae turned to Cara, smiling.

“It won’t happen again, right?” she asked, though Cara seemed more interested in the watermelon than in being the subject of conversation.

“Right, Cara?” Rae prodded.

“Hmm? Me?” Cara glanced between her mother and Dexter, who looked ready to pounce at her audacity. Rae rolled her eyes internally, fighting back a laugh.

Seeing Dexter had suffered enough, Cara hid her smile and feigned remorse.

“Yes, Uncle,” she said. Peace before dessert, after all.

Dexter stared at her, incredulous. Was this the apology he was getting from his niece?

“Yes, what, Cara?” Rae prompted.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” she recited obediently. Rae winked subtly, turning to Dexter.

“You see? She’s so sorry she’s speechless.”

Dexter exhaled helplessly. Was this mother-daughter duo mocking him?

Rae handed Cara a plate of juicy watermelon.

“Rest early after eating. And no gambling tonight,” she added as Cara followed her to her room.

Dexter, caught mid-thought, nodded humbly as he settled down for dinner.

“Thanks, Mom,” Cara said, picking up a piece of watermelon with a toothpick.

“Join me,” she offered.

“I’m full,” her mother replied, smiling. Rae’s glow tugged at her heart, and Cara silently wondered at the stupidity of her host.

⸻

Midnight found a shadow tiptoeing from the basement, carefully shutting the door. Relief washed over it—but a slender hand on its shoulder made it yelp and leap into the moonlight, pale with shock.

“Hush,” Cara murmured, gently shushing Dexter. “Else mom would find us here.” Relief replaced his fear when he realized who it was.

“Scram,” he muttered, scowling, and continued his escape. Not wanting to be left out of the night’s adventure—and secretly thrilled by the beauty of the moonlit world—Cara followed. Was the moon real, or some artificial creation like the one in her past life? She made a mental note to check later.

Dexter paused mid-stride, almost having a heart attack when he spotted Cara right behind him.

“Brat! How long have you been following me?” he hissed.

“First off, it’s Cara, not Brat. Secondly, this is a free path for anyone,” she said, her smile mischievous.

Dexter, momentarily tongue-tied, stalked off, muttering about his misfortune in having such a parasite for a niece.

They reached the largest gambling house in Yunjing province. Dexter clasped his hands in a ritual prayer to the gods of luck, ignoring Cara’s quiet chuckle behind him.

As a regular at losing huge amounts of money every night to the casino, a waiter respectfully ushered him in, only sparing Cara a once-over.

“Boss, is that a relative?” Someone asked, eyeing the minor beside Dexter.

“I’m only just seeing her too,” he denied quickly. Cara raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet, entertained by his discomfort.

Inside, Dexter was swept up in visions of winning big, spoiling his sister with luxuries he usually denied her, while Cara observed the dealer and the holographic scoring chart.

Dice clattered in the chest. Cara listened, picking up subtle cues that most gamblers ignored.

Influenced by the fevered energy of the room, Dexter wagered on ‘Small’ without thought. The whispers of his ancestors, he dismissed.

“Wager on Big, Uncle. Place your bets on five, six, and one,” Cara suggested softly. The table fell silent, staring at a teenage girl who shouldn’t even be there.

Dexter rolled his eyes, contemptuous, ignoring her advice. When the dealer announced as he opened the chest: “Five, six, one, and Big!”

Cara remained calm, studying the dice as if nothing had happened. Dexter’s jaw dropped—she had been right. Again.

He ignored her on the next round. Cara’s soft voice intervened: “It ought to be big—six, six, one.” The result confirmed her prediction.

By the third round, Dexter clung stubbornly to his choice of Small, despite Cara’s tut and sweet smile predicting Big—six, four, one. His resolve cracked when the dice proved her right once more.

Eight thousand bucks dwindled to three hundred. He was running out of chances.

“Since the first few rounds were all big, this one is sure to be big too, so why choose Small?” whispered the voices of his ancestors.

Dexter’s eyes lit up.

But Cara’s voice cut through the tension. “Choose Small, Uncle, and bet on three, one, four.”