Page 65 of The Cute Psycho

"Mr. Petrovic," I drawl, bringing a chair and positioning it in front of him. "It seems we are at an impasse. I have had the pleasure ofmeeting some of your associates, and it's fair to say they didn't enjoy my welcome."

He raises his head slightly, blinking twice to get some focus in his sight.

"I hope maybe this time you have something for me?" I ask, raising my eyebrows at him.

"You're too easy on him, brother." Vanya pouts from my side, her eyes assessing Petrovic and his impaled ass.

"I'm busy, Vanya," I tell her before turning to my prisoner.

"I can't..." he stutters, sweat clinging to his face.

"We've gone through this before, Mr. Petrovic. You can. You just don't want to. See, there's a difference." I make a disappointed tsk sound, going to the back and taking a small tool set.

"I can't," he breathes again, before uttering two words, "food, water."

I frown, sure that Maxim should have already fed him.

"So you're saying that if I give you food and water you'll talk?" I ask skeptically, and his head moves in a slow bob.

I just shrug. Maybe he wants one last meal before his death, since he won't be living for much longer.

I'm about to message Maxim to bring some food and drink before Vanya stops me, beckoning me to listen to her whispered plan. She sure has an overactive imagination as she details an interesting form of autophagy.

Mr. Petrovic's brows draw together as he looks between Vanya and me, no doubt asking himself if I've gone mad.

The answer is yes.

But if he considers me insane, then he might be more inclined to talk. After all, he'll be the one to withstand myinsanetactics.

After I text Maxim to bring me the necessary items, I try to talk some more to my lovely prisoner, hoping to dispel some of the boredom he nonetheless must be feeling trapped up there with bamboos sticking up his ass.

"To show you that I'm a good guy," I start, plugging in the electric grill and waiting for it to heat, "I'm going to give you some premiumsteak. Courtesy of my sister, of course, since she was the mastermind behind this."

His brows furrow as he looks at me in confusion. I can't fault him, since how is it fair that Vanya decides to only show herself to me?

"You see, sometimes she surprises me with savagery. It's like we're twins," I joke, but he doesn't understand.

Vanya, on the other hand, is chuckling by my side, eyeing the grill with curiosity and urging me on.

"Which side?" I ask, and she turns to Mr. Petrovic to analyze him. She goes closer, looking up his mostly collapsed ass, and I groan out loud.

Phantasm or not, Vanya's still a child. She shouldn't be looking up men's asses.

"Vanya." I tap my foot, knowing she'll get my meaning.

Sighing deeply, she slumps her shoulders as she comes back next to me.

"The thigh, right around the hole," she suggests, and I narrow my eyes at her.

"It might be infected. He'll get indigestion," I reply.

"Well, then he does." She shrugs, a mischievous smile playing at her lips.

"Your wish is my command." I feign a bow before taking a knife and stooping low, under Mr. Petrovic's ass.

"Vanya, Vanya, this is all for you," I say in a sing-song voice.

I can't say I haven't missed her, but at the same time it had been liberating to be alone for the first time in decades. And Sisi...

---