Page 71 of The Cute Psycho

After years of abuse, I'd just snapped. I didn't care about what happened to me anymore, so I just acted out. Certainly, after Cressida's death, only worse things awaited me. So I just gave in, and for the first time, I stayed true to myself instead of forcing myself to be someonetheywanted me to be.

And hell if it hasn't been relieving. Like a weight being lifted off my chest, I've finally found a modicum of happiness. Maybe that's also why I'm so drawn to Vlad. He doesn't judge me for who I am. Instead, he cheers me on, both our crazies mixing together.

"I see," Marcello replies.

What do you see?

Why is he so closed off? I can't get a reading on him to know if my answers are satisfactory or not.

"It is good to be curious," he continues. "You should never stop asking questions."

Silence envelops us, and we're just looking at each other, the awkwardness only increasing.

"Right," I say eventually. "If that's all?"

He nods at me, picking up his glasses and putting them on. Shuffling some files around his desk, I can tell I've been dismissed.

And as I leave his office, I can't help but ask myself.

Does he even want me here?

17

SISI

"Why do people need so many profiles?" I ask, watching Vlad help me set up my social media accounts.

He looks up, shrugging.

"I don't use any," he replies, clicking some things on the computer until the profile is done.

"Why?" I tilt my head to study him. I'd read up on social media profiles, and I'd made a list of the ones I wanted him to help me set up. I'd looked into the matter extensively, because according to some people, if you don't have a social media presence then you don't exist.

"I'm not exactly an exemplary citizen," he smirks. "I don't need that type of exposure. Especially since nowadays you can track everything."

"What do you mean?"

"See this?" He shows me a picture I'd awkwardly taken to add to my profile. I nod. "Every picture has metadata that shows when and where it was taken." A few more clicks and he pulls up a new window.

"That's Marcello's address," I say, my mouth hanging open in shock.

"Yes, it is. It only takes someone who is a little skilled with computers to get this. Every picture you post has the potential to givevital information to enemies. There are other tricks too, since everything you do online leaves a signature," he continues to explain, and I'm listening attentively. He seems to know a lot about it and as he's talking, his features show the barest hint of excitement.

"But I don't have enemies."

"You don't. But your brother does. AndIdo." He looks at me intently for a second before turning his gaze back to the computer. "Luckily for you, I'm going to set up everything neatly and install some safety mechanisms as well," he says, already getting to it.

I watch him work his magic, and I mentally go over my rehearsed lines. Since he hasn't tried to kiss me in a while, I feel I may need to push him into it. After all, the articles online had mentioned that men enjoy being the aggressors.

"Done!" he says, handing me back the computer as he scrolls through the different profiles.

"There's one more platform," I add, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at me expectantly. "This." I open the tab for him, all the while surreptitiously watching for his reaction.

"A dating site?" he asks in disbelief, looking back and forth between me and the screen. "Why do you need a dating profile?" he repeats, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"No. I don't." He glowers at me.

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