Chapter 55: Ch55: The Invitation

Nyle stepped back into the kitchen and fell in with the others, the residual heat of Lana’s body still clinging to his skin beneath his clothes.

He took a bite of the leftover burger, chewing slowly while the taste barely registered. Deep down the third task sat in his mind, unfinished and urgent.

What the hell was he supposed to do about it?

Give up?

Never.

Hours later...

’If I somehow put Sir Roland unconscious... who’s going to stop me then?’ Nyle thought, a perverse grin tugged at the corner of his mouth before he wiped it away.

"We’ve got a huge order, guys," Queena called as she pushed through the swinging door, order slip in hand. She passed it to Simon without looking up.

Five chocolate, five double chocolate, fifteen glazed, five sprinkled.

"Antonio, we need twenty more," Nyle’s voice cut clean through the kitchen noise.

"Alright, coming up. Two minutes," Antonio shot back, already moving with sharp energy.

While Antonio flipped the fresh donuts, Nyle lined up the boxes and set them in order. One after another the team worked — dipping, glazing, settling each warm donut into its place until the order was complete.

"Be careful," Simon said, handing the stacked boxes to Queena.

"It’s not the first time," Queena replied.

"I know. Still," said Simon.

Meanwhile Nyle pulled out his phone and quickly texted Fiona, angling for her to invite him to dinner. She replied almost instantly — followed by a smirk emoji and a water droplet.

The first piece of the plan had fallen into place.

...

The sun was sinking beneath the horizon, painting the sky in fading shades of orange. With the day’s work finally behind him, Nyle left the donut shop without wasting another moment and made his way toward the nearest chemist shop.

"Excuse me, do you have—"

...

*Click~*

Nyle stepped out of the bathroom, fresh from his bath, with droplets of water still clinging to his damp hair. Before he could take another step, a sharp knock echoed through the room.

"Yes?" Nyle called, his gaze shifting toward the door.

When he opened it, Roland stood on the other side, his posture straight and his expression unreadable.

"Your ma’am told me to invite you to dinner," he said, his voice as neutral as his face.

"Thank you for the invitation. I’d be more than happy to join you for dinner," Nyle replied, offering a slight bow while forcing a calm expression that betrayed neither excitement nor hesitation.

With that he turned and closed the door.

’Time to execute my plan,’ Nyle thought as he picked up his phone and checked the time.

7:45 PM.

Half an hour later.

*Knock-Knock*

*Click*

"Hey, Nyle," Fiona said with a warm smile. "Come in, the dinner’s almost ready."

Nyle stepped inside and quickly scanned the room. His eyes caught Roland seated at the living-room table, focused on a laptop as though deep in work.

’Nice... He’s busy,’ Nyle thought.

"Honey, the dinner is almost ready," Fiona called.

"Yeah, just five minutes," Roland answered without looking up.

The kitchen table had already been carefully set. A clean tablecloth stretched smooth across the wood, plates sat in neat alignment, each with its fork and knife with a clear stainless-steel glass waited at every seat.

"Please, have a seat," Fiona said, then turned back toward the stove.

Nyle lowered himself into the chair and waited, posture relaxed, eyes quietly taking in the room.

Moments later Roland joined him, dropping into the seat beside Nyle with a tired sigh. Fiona carried in the first dishes — steam still rising, and set them in the center of the table.

The rich, savory aroma of pork and the rest of the meal unfurled through the dining space, warm and strong.

Nyle’s tongue briefly touched his lower lip at the scent, but his attention stayed fixed on Roland. "Sir... what’s that on your face?" he asked, brows drawing together.

"What? My face?" Roland’s fingers went to his cheek.

"There’s a black spot near your eyebrow," Nyle added.

Roland pushed back from the table and headed for the bathroom to check the mirror. The second the door clicked shut, Nyle’s hand moved. In one smooth, silent motion he switched their glasses, then settled back into his chair as if nothing had happened.

"Where did he go?" Fiona asked from the kitchen.

"I don’t know," Nyle answered evenly.

A few minutes later Roland returned, face damp from washing.

"There’s nothing on my face, Nyle."

"My bad, sir. I must have been seeing things," Nyle said with a small, apologetic smile.

At the same time Fiona came back carrying the final dish — a pan of soft scrambled eggs, and placed it on the table.

"Did everyone wash their hands? If not, go do it."

Roland held his palms out. "I’m clean, honey."

Fiona leaned in and inspected them closely. "Not properly. Go and wash it again."

Without argument, Nyle and Roland both stood and walked to the washroom, where they washed their hands thoroughly under the running water.

...

*Nom-Nom-Nom*

"It’s so good, Mrs. Fiona," Nyle said around a mouthful of pork.

"Thanks, Nyle," Fiona answered with a warm smile.

Roland, however, barely spoke, keeping his attention on his plate, eating in steady silence.

Meanwhile Nyle’s eyes kept drifting to the glass sitting in front of Roland. Not a single sip had been taken.

’When is he going to drink...? Sir, just drink it!’ Nyle thought.

Only when the last of the food on Roland’s plate was gone did he finally lift the glass, gulp the entire contents down in one long swallow, and set it back with a satisfied burp.

*Burp...!*

"Honey..." Fiona said, eyes narrowing slightly before she looked away again.

"What?" Roland asked, confused.

Manners.

A quiet, satisfied smile spread across Nyle’s face. His plan had worked. The glass Roland had just drained contained a heavy dose of sleeping capsules.

The moment the man lay back on a bed, he would fall asleep within seconds.

*Yawn~*

Roland let out a long yawn as he stood and made his way to the sink.