Chapter One: The Midnight Menu

Only the cinnamon roll remained. Zhiwei refused to touch it. “Kill.” “You won't even pick him up,” Madam Wen murmured. “Hatred is a bond too. You want me to touch it, so I won't.” A soft laugh came from inside the roll—not mocking, but almost relieved by an unexpected answer. Madam Wen placed the three desserts into black, gold, and white paper bags. “The transaction is complete. Store them safely before sunrise. And one complimentary warning.” She leaned closer, smelling of old cinnamon. “Do not fall in love with the man you chose to kill.” The lock clicked open. Zhiwei hurried into the rain. Seven steps later, the light behind her died. Between the condemned buildings stood only a brick wall bearing a demolition notice dated seven years ago.