Page 53 of Psycho

Pulling her head back, she gasps.

“No. He cost me my identity, and my son. He took everything from me.”

Her words rattle around in my head, as I carry her to my kitchen, and set her on the counter beside my stainless steel refrigerator.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

PSYCHO

I open the refrigerator and start grabbing food. After hearing her stomach rumbling while she was still sleeping, I know I need to feed her.

She watches me as I press ground beef into hamburger patties.

“What did you mean, you lost your identity?”

Anastasia doesn’t immediately respond. Her gaze is on me, but the look in her eyes is far away, as if she’s somewhere else.

“Anastasia?”

With a roll of her eyes, she says, “I can’t tell you. I’m afraid you’ll kill me for real. Or change your mind, and sell me to that asshole. Unless you’re playing games, and already know everything about me.”

I walk over to wash my hands, after putting the patties in the pan, and my head swirls with confusion. What the fuck is she talking about?

Going back over to the counter, I stand in front of her, and place my hands on the granite, caging her in. Lowering my head, she tilts her head back, and stares up at me.

“This is what I know, little lamb. Anastasia Crowne, assistant district attorney. Your father is deceased, mother unwell, and you have a vendetta against my family, because you think we’re responsible. And after tonight, now I know that your ex husband Carlo is in prison, for killing your child, and hurting you.”

She speaks in a whisper.

“He was never charged for hurting me, Massimo.”

“Why couldn’t I find anything on you? It is as if you appeared out of thin air, when you started college, but you didn’t exist before then.”

A soft gasp leaves her lips as she questions me, although it sounds like more of a statement.

“You don’t know. He really didn’t tell you. You acted like you didn’t know, but I thought you must have.”

I move to flip over the hamburgers, and immediately return to her.

“He who? Little lamb, I’m running out of what little patience I had.”

After the hamburgers are ready, I quickly plate them before moving them to the table. She needs to eat, but I need fucking answers.

She takes a seat across from me, and I tell her, “Eat and talk. I want answers.”

“After Carlo was arrested, your father contacted me.”

The mention of my father feels like a gut punch, and I’m not inclined to believe her.

“Do not fucking lie to me.”

She tilts her head at me, with a glare in her hazel eyes, puts her hamburger down, and places her clenched fists on the table, on either side of her plate.

“I’m not fucking lying to you, Massimo. Carlo worked for a rival family, and when your father heard what happened, he knew, even with him behind bars, I’d never be safe. And with our families once connected, he wanted to help.”

I assume she’s referring to her father allegedly working for our family. The fact is I’ve never heard the name Crowne until her, so I have no fucking idea who her father was.

“I didn’t want to accept any assistance from him, because I didn’t trust him.”

---