The Deceiver's Handbook
Lo and behold, it was a flavourful meal of creamy pasta and fried chicken wings on the side.
At first sight, I was already salivating, and the worms in my stomach only rejoiced the more, making the meal even more irresistible.
“Go ahead and devour your meal,” Peter said with a smile, and he sat back on his previous spot, flipping the pages of a crime book.
“Thank you,” I muttered, and I picked up the fork laid by the side of the tray, covered in a serviette paper. Are you not having anything?” I asked, wondering why I was the only one who was served when he claimed to be hungry some minutes ago.
Bab Populer