Page 72 of The Colour of Revenge

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Chinese? Yep,” he boasts, holding up the bag like a trophy.

“How did you…?” I narrow my eyes at him.

He raises an eyebrow and gives me a pointed look, as if to say,I pay attention.

“Never mind,” I mutter, stepping aside to let him in.

His eyes sweep over me, and his smile widens. “Nice outfit,” he teases, clearly trying not to laugh.

I glance down at my hot pink pyjamas, the slogan ‘Sassy, Sleepy, Slightly Unhinged’plastered across the front. Heat creeps up my neck. “Don’t judge me. It’s late, and I didn’t think I’d be entertaining company.”

“Company?” He steps inside, brushing past me. “I’m flattered, Princess. Though I gotta say, those pyjamas might be the highlight of my day.”

“Shut up,” I grumble, shutting the door behind him.

He sets the bag down on the coffee table and starts unpacking containers without waiting for an invitation. “I brought extra spring rolls. Figured you’d hoard them.”

He sits beside me, close enough that his arm brushes against mine. The smell of the food wafts up, making my stomach growl.

“Hungry?” he teases, glancing at me.

“Starving,” I admit, grabbing a container of noodles.

Before I can take my first bite, an insistent knock sounds at the door.

“Expecting anyone?” Nate asks, one brow arching as he pauses mid-motion.

“No,” I whisper, my heart thudding in my chest.

Despite the nerves clawing at my insides, I make my way to the door and glance through the peephole. My eyes widen at the sight.

“It’s the police,” I hiss, backing away. Nate has already moved closer, his expression hardening.

“Shit. Are your knives hidden?” he murmurs, his voice low.

“Yes, of course! I’m not stupid.” I pause, wincing slightly. “Though… I do sometimes leave them lying around. But not today!”

“Good. Just checking.” His tone remains calm, but his eyes flick to the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

I brace myself and pull the door open. Two uniformed officers stand on the porch, their expressions neutral but assessing.

"Can I help you, officers?" I ask, forcing a polite smile and keeping my voice light.

"There's been a number of missing persons in the London area," one of them says, his gaze sweeping over me like he's memorising every inch. "We're going door-to-door to see if anyone's seen or heard anything unusual."

Oh, shit.

I grip the edge of the door tighter than necessary. "Oh—uh… No, nothing I can think of."

"We're also investigating a few open homicides." The officer flips open his notebook, scanning a page before looking at me. "Mind telling us where you were three weeks ago, on the sixteenth of November?"

My pulse stutters. My mind races. That was the day I killed Robert.

Kai had insisted on leaving Robert for the cops to find since I'd already sent the video evidence of his confession. He wasn't thrilled about it—he said it made his job harder to stage the scene and wipe away traces of us. But I stand by what I did.

I try to keep my voice even. "What does that have to do with anything?"