Chapter 1

My neighbor next door, Victoria, who suffers from gout, loves stealing my food delivery.

She even gossips about me in the community group chat:

"Only losers order takeout every single day!"

I smiled coldly and started doing my research, customizing a meal plan just for her.

"Foods gout patients must absolutely avoid."

"Which foods raise uric acid levels the most."

Since she wants to eat my food so badly, I'll let her eat her fill!

On my way home from work, I ordered a spicy pizza.

The delivery guy arrived before me, so I told him to leave it at my door.

A minute later, I stepped out of the elevator to find my doorstep completely empty.

Looking around, I spotted sauce drippings on the floor, forming a trail that led straight to the door across from mine — Vincent Parker's place.

I walked over and knocked, wanting to get to the bottom of this.

A chubby woman with smeared makeup and tacky pajamas appeared at the door, her face showing clear impatience. From her appearance, this must be Victoria, the granddaughter that old Mr. Parker had mentioned just moved in.

I politely asked, "Hello, did you happen to see my food delivery?"

She rolled her eyes rudely. "I've been home this whole time and haven't stepped outside. Where would I have seen your takeout?"

If it weren't for the sauce stains on the floor and the food remnants at the corner of her mouth, I might have actually believed her.

Before I could say anything more, she slammed the door hard in my face.

I shook my head with a bitter smile. Must be hunger making me delirious.

You need solid evidence to catch a thief, after all.

This wasn't the first time my delivery had gone missing.

The thief wasn't picky — from ten-dollar coffee to thirty-dollar desserts, even fifty-dollar pizzas — she took it all.

I hadn't had a specific suspect before, but today was just too suspicious.

When I got on the elevator, the delivery guy had just reached my door.

From the time he set it down to when I got back, it couldn't have been more than a minute.

That was way too fast.

Thinking back carefully, my deliveries only started disappearing after Victoria moved in.

Just days after moving in, she posted this weird statement in the community group chat:

"Men these days don't know how to manage money — total wastrels!"

"Normal people cook their own food. Only losers order takeout!"

At the time, I just figured she had weird opinions and ignored her.

But then she escalated and even had the nerve to @ me directly.

Of course I wasn't going to let that slide!

I replied directly:

"I know you're blunt, but you can't just run your mouth without thinking!"

"If you love sticking your nose in other people's business so much, maybe focus on yourself first."

After that, Victoria looked at me like she wanted to murder me with her eyes every time we crossed paths.

Starving and frustrated, I complained to my buddy Jackson.

He said helplessly, "Are you an idiot? Don't you have a security camera at your door? Just check the playback."

I slapped my forehead. I was so hungry I'd forgotten about the camera I'd just installed because of the repeated thefts.

I quickly pulled up the footage on my phone.

My instincts were right on the money. The takeout thief was Victoria.

In the surveillance video, she sneaked out of her place like a ghost, grabbed the delivery, and bolted. In her haste, some sauce spilled out and dripped all over the floor.

As she ran, she muttered under her breath:

"Pizza? This guy throws money around like crazy!"

"What a wastrel!"

I was fuming mad. Vincent seemed like such a gentle old man — how could he have such a bizarre granddaughter?

After hearing my complaint, Jackson looked at me like I was an idiot:

"Haven't you heard that family influence matters?"

"If you don't believe me, keep watching the playback."

I didn't believe it at first, but the surveillance footage slapped me hard in the face.