Page 66 of The Cute Psycho

Damn it. I can't allow her to intrude in my thoughts when I'm doling out torture. What kind of mob boss would I be if my mind were fixated ononewoman twenty-four seven? Once more I have to thrust all thoughts of her from my mind, before my dick decides to take the reins, and the cop incident showed me that I'm not good atthattype of multitasking.

I scrunch my nose at the stench coming from Mr. Petrovic, quickly getting to work. I use the small knife to cut cubes of flesh from around the wound, slowly enlarging the hole. Mr. Petrovic is so spent he can barely make a noise even though this must hurt like hell. I make suremy cubes have predominantly more meat than skin, so Mr. Petrovic can enjoy a hearty meal before his inevitable demise.

When I've harvested enough meat, I go to the already hot grill and carefully place them on it. Then, going through some of the seasonings Maxim had brought me, I apply some and cook the meat.

The smell wafts through the air and I close my eyes at the aroma. Hard to believe this came from Mr. Petrovic, considering his currently disgusting state.

It's almost... mouthwatering.

"What are you looking at, V? Fancy some meat?" I pick up a piece, wielding it in front of her. She closes her eyes, inhaling.

"I wish I could," she says, her eyes following the steak.

When all the pieces have been cooked, I go in front of Mr. Petrovic, enticing him to try some of his meat.

"Come on, Mr. Petrovic. It's not every day that you get to taste yourself." I pause, chuckling to myself, "Well, not like this anyway. So why don't you open your mouth and I'll even do the honors of feeding you," I tell him, moving the fork with the meat in front of him.

He looks disgusted as he looks between me and the piece of meat, but as his stomach growls, he seems to give up. Opening his mouth, I stuff the piece inside, watching in satisfaction as he chews on his own thigh.

"So? How is it?" My lips stretch in a wide smile as he tries his best to swallow.

"He wasn't as disgusted as you said, V," I say, looking behind to find Vanya gone.

My brows furrowing, I peruse the entire garden for her, but she's nowhere in sight.

And there can only be one explanation.

"Sisi, you can show yourself," I call out, and not even a second later she emerges from behind some bushes in the back.

Her eyes take in Mr. Petrovic's not so stellar state and she scrunches her nose.

Aghh, I didn't want her to smell this...

"What's happening?" Sisi comes forward, dusting the hem of herdress, and I notice that mud is smeared on her clothes from kneeling in the mud.

"I told you to stay in my room." I exhale, thinking of ways to explain this entire fiasco. While bamboo torture is not my usual go-to, it still doesn't look—or smell—great.

She shrugs, coming closer to inspect the meat on the grill.

"You should have known I'd get curious," she replies, her eyes focused on the remaining pieces of meat.

"This smells delicious." She picks up a piece.

"Sisi, don't!" I hurry in front of her just in time to stop her hand.

She turns her face toward me, narrowing her eyes at me.

"It's human meat, isn't it?" she asks, nodding toward Mr. Petrovic.

I feel compelled to nod, pursing my lips and awaiting her condemnation.

How did she even find the garden? I'm going to have some words with Maxim.

"I thought you said you don't eat humans anymore?" She stares me down as she raises her hand, the piece of meat still in her hold.

"I don't," I reply, squaring my shoulders. "It's for him," I point toward Mr. Petrovic.

"You're feeding him his own flesh?" Her eyes widen in surprise.

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