Page 115 of The Cute Psycho

"You don't have to drink, Sisi," Marcello says, already asking Claudia and Venezia to go sit by Lina. "Vlad is leaving."

"She's legal now, Marcello. It's her prerogative to drink or not." He smirks, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

I swallow.

The devil.

He knows exactly what he's doing.

"You need to leave, Vlad," Marcello tells him. "I get that you're bored, and friendless, and whatever, but I won't tell you again. Stay away from my family." He grits his teeth, taking the glass from me and slapping it on the table, the liquid teetering on the edge and spilling on the white cloth covering the table.

"Damn, 'Cello, you've gone all big bad wolf on me. Are you afraid I'm going to pluck this flower?" He lays his hand on my shoulder, and I hear someone gasp at the table.

Everything happens in slow motion.

A waiter is coming in, bringing a huge birthday cake on a trolley. The hand on my shoulder disappears just as Marcello twists Vlad around, flinging him from me, and punching him in the face.

Lina's hands are on Claudia's eyes, while Venezia looks oddly intrigued.

Vlad doesn't even react or fight back as he accepts the punch, his body being flung back and into my cake.

My mouth opens on a silent sound as I see half of Vlad's face land on the cake, ruining everything.

Marcello has a smug expression as he looks at Vlad, and for the first time, I've had it with them both.

"Stop!" I stand up, putting myself between them before the conflict escalates. "This ismybirthday dinner, and you are both ruining it," I speak, my voice serious. "You, stop hitting people." I point at Marcello. "And you," I turn to Vlad, "stop asking to be hit!"

"Me? Asking to be hit?" Vlad rights himself, the upper part of his suit full of cake as more falls from his cheek.

"Stop!" Both Marcello and I speak at the same time.

I can barely contain a smile as I see the cream on Vlad's face, and I just shake my head at him.

"Here's how this is going to go," I say, looking at everyone. "You are going to calm down," I address Marcello, "and you are going to come with me to clean up. After that,everyonewill behave, and we'll eat what's left of the cake in peace. Think you can do this?" I look at Vlad.

I'm almost at my wits' end and there's only one reason for it.

"You're not going anywhere with him." Marcello stops me. I turn to him, giving him my most no-nonsense expression.

"I'll be fine," I say, "if he tries anything I'll just give him more cake," my lips twitch, "seems to shut him up just fine."

"Hey, I'm here," he interjects, but before he can insult my brother further, I grab him by the arm and take him to the bathroom, locking the door behind us so we're undisturbed.

"What is wrong with you?" I hiss at him when we're finally alone.

"You stood me up," he answers quietly, hands in his pockets.

"What do you mean?" I frown.

"We were supposed to meet. An hour ago to be more exact," he says, showing me his phone and the messages he's sent me—quite a lot of them.

"I don't have my phone with me, and we never planned anything."

He mutters something under his breath that I can't understand, but with his half-caked face, I can't even take him seriously.

"Is that why you came here so ready to wage war?" I ask, swiping my finger over his face and tasting some of the cream.

"You stood me up." Is all he says. Like a sullen boy, he pouts, looking anywhere but at me.

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