After driving around for a while, finally…
Bingo.
Dexter found the place.
Kamala, the Black man, had just gotten out of his car. He was carrying a pile of paper bags printed with the logo of some burger joint and heading into the house.
Seeing those bags, Dexter muttered silently, "So he's already running a full-on sweatshop." Then he looked up at the house.
Every window was covered from the inside with cardboard. One of the second-floor windows even had metal bars installed on the outside.
The whole house looked like a massive, light-proof box.
Just imagine it.
Who knows how many kids were locked inside that box day and night—no sunlight, no fresh air, forced to work, starving…
Prison inmates had it better than this.
The most ridiculous part?
As long as Kamala said he was still willing to "foster" kids, DCFS—the agency that's supposed to protect children—kept sending kids straight into his hands.
Absolutely absurd. Absolutely ironic.
That was also exactly why Dexter, despite messing with the Gallagher family in every possible way, never once thought about calling DCFS to report him.
Doing that would be crueler.
Sitting in the car, Dexter lit a cigarette and watched quietly for a bit. Only after Kamala entered the house and immediately shut the door did he look away—his gaze shifting to Kamala's car.
A pretty nice one. A fairly new Mercedes.
To Dexter, that was great news.
There were too many kids in that house.
If he wanted Kamala dead, he had to lure him outside.
And under normal circumstances, Kamala would never leave. He had to keep an eye on those kids, making sure they kept working nonstop.
So—
Come back at night. Smash the Mercedes. The car alarm goes off. Kamala definitely comes outside.
Then: bang, bang, bang. Empty the magazine. Done.
Thinking about that scene, Dexter couldn't help but smile.
After smiling, he began observing the street.
Mainly looking for cameras.
Thank goodness for America's obsession with "freedom." There weren't many government-installed cameras in public spaces to begin with, and on a rundown, poor street like this, it made perfect sense—there were none at all.
After carefully checking everything, Dexter stepped on the gas and drove off, starting his prep work, just like he had before taking out Terry Milkovich.
Honestly?
This kind of thing was thrilling as hell.
Dexter was so excited, so focused, that he completely lost track of time.
—
10:50 a.m.
Dex Restaurant.
Veronica looked at the line of luxury cars outside—more than last night—and the wealthy customers who'd come in from other neighborhoods. She checked the time and felt completely helpless.
She'd just talked with Kevin last night about buying the Alibi, making money, and someday owning a house of their own…
And now—
Dexter was missing again.
At this rate, Veronica was genuinely worried the restaurant would shut down before long.
"Vivian, how about you call the boss? I called last night," Veronica said with a bitter smile, pulling out her phone.
Vivian, on the other hand, was totally calm. She nodded easily and took the phone. "Sure."
The call connected quickly.
"Boss, it's almost eleven. Are we opening for lunch today?" Vivian asked.
Dexter had timed things almost perfectly. Hearing that, he glanced at the clock, a little surprised it was already so late.
"We're opening. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes. How many people are outside?"
"A lot," Vivian said, quickly counting. "About fifty."
"I see," Dexter thought for a moment. "I'm in a good mood. We'll do twenty servings for lunch. You can let people in."
"Okay."
The call ended.
Vivian immediately relayed the message to Veronica.
Veronica broke into a huge smile.
Twenty servings.
That meant over fifty bucks in tips.
In the blink of an eye, the restaurant doors opened.
"Sorry for the wait. The boss will be here shortly. Please line up. We're serving twenty meals for lunch today. If anyone is willing to share a portion, let me know so I can arrange seating," Vivian announced.
The truth was—
Last night's crowd of attractive, well-dressed customers had hyped Dex Restaurant hard on Twitter. A few of them even specifically mentioned the restaurant's bizarre rules.
Limited servings. No reservations. You have to show up and wait. And even then, the boss might not appear at all…
In short, overnight, the restaurant became wildly popular on Twitter—praised and criticized at the same time. But one thing was certain:
It blew up.
So when Vivian finished speaking, the wealthy people who'd already been waiting outside for a while mostly either sighed in relief or smiled happily.
Then, in the very next second—
They transformed.
Like slum dwellers fighting over scraps, these rich folks suddenly started shoving and scrambling, desperate to get to the front of the line.
It was honestly hard to describe how ridiculous it looked.
Veronica watched, completely speechless.
Vivian, on the other hand, found it kind of amusing. She thought of a term she'd read in a book once:
Customer conditioning.
The boss is incredible, she thought.
In reality, though—
What conditioning?
This was straight-up PUA.
—
High School
Morning classes ended.
As soon as the bell rang, Karen grabbed her backpack and left the classroom, heading straight for the parking lot.
The fame of Dex Restaurant had already reached the school.
All morning, students wouldn't shut up about it, praising the food like it was divine.
Karen heard it and got curious. She figured she'd check it out—and maybe see if she could get Dexter to treat her to a meal.
She was very confident in her looks and her body.
Plus, considering their previous "transaction"…
She felt like it might work.
And even if it didn't?
No big deal. Trying didn't cost her anything.
Karen walked fast, eyes straight ahead, her mind full of plans for what she'd do later. She didn't notice the shouting behind her at all.
Lip called her several times. When she didn't respond, he jogged to catch up.
"Karen, I called you a few times. You didn't hear me?" Lip asked, confused.
She didn't slow down. "Sorry, I was thinking."
As she spoke, she glanced at Lip.
Suddenly—
An idea struck her.
She'd already asked Lip about the bad blood between him and Dexter.
Lip hated Dexter—honestly, it was closer to rage.
And the other way around?
After thinking over Dexter's proposal that night, Karen was pretty sure Dexter hated Lip too.
In that case…
If I bring Lip along—hehe.
Karen felt confident. "You busy later? If not, come somewhere with me."
Lip had come after her because he wanted to hook up.
In that regard, he was basically addicted.
"Where to?" Lip asked, a little disappointed but still hopeful. "I thought we might, you know… do it."
Karen smiled. "After we get back."
Lip immediately perked up. "Deal. Where are we going?"
"You'll see," Karen said deliberately, keeping it vague.
Lip frowned slightly, thought about it, then dropped it—afraid that asking too many questions might ruin his chances.
"Mysterious."
Karen laughed. "Walk faster."
—
Mickey's House
Mandy had gone to school. Before leaving, she'd reminded Mickey over and over to go check out the job at Dex Restaurant.
Mickey sat on the couch, chain-smoking. The ashtray in front of him was already overflowing with cigarette butts.
After finishing another cigarette, he turned his head to look at the clock on the wall.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Mickey clenched his teeth, stood up, walked out the door, and headed toward Dex Restaurant with his usual swagger.