His newfound home, gone.

The chef frowned when she saw Kyle not eating. Thinking of something, she relaxed; it didn’t matter whether they ate or not.

She turned to leave but froze as a chopstick shot towards her. She dodged instinctively, her swift movements betraying skills no ordinary chef should possess.

The chopstick pierced the wall, a chilling display of their deadly force.

Her cover was blown immediately, Viktor’s chin was propped up with his fingers, and his gaze was filled with interest, wondering how she was able to hide so deeply.

Kyle was still playing around with his chopsticks with a calm face feeling it was a pity.

Zane’s hands were missing a chopstick; he cleaned his lips, satisfied with the food. His sharp, cold gaze focused on her. His sword-like aura covered the room, pining the woman in place.

She knew that the slightest movement could mean having her throat slit. She was not scared but frantic laughter burst out from her lips.