Page 33

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.”

Arching an eyebrow, I speak in an annoyed tone.

“Because you thought he killed your father?”

She nods and takes a sip of her drink, eyeing me warily.

“I didn’t have a choice. I knew I was a sitting duck staying put, and it was only a matter of time, before someone would come for both me and my mother.”

Rubbing at the ache in my chest, I wait for her to tell me what my father did. I’m annoyed that he didn’t tell me, as I wonder if Bones has this information, since he was made the head of the family. Surely he would have told me, after finding out that I took her.

“My family name is Amici. Your father got me a new identity. My name is not Anastasia Crowne. It’s Hadley Amici.”

All the air vanishes from my lungs, as I stare at her in shock, and I’m pulled into the memory of the first time I heard that name.

My mother scowls at me.

“Massimo, you will be nice to Hadley.”

She’s annoying, following me everywhere, looking up at me with those eyes that say I’m a hero. I know she’s just a little girl, but for a reason I cannot explain, I want to hurt her. I like making her cry.

“Why is she here?”

My mother glances at me with a soft smile, and she shakes her head, as if to say I’m being impossible.

“Her mother had somewhere to be, so she’s hanging out here because, as you know, the men are working.”

The men.

I clench my fists at my sides with her words, because, while I’ve proven I can handle enemies, I’m still not working with my father, because I’m only sixteen. My mother has urged me repeatedly to go to college, but it’s not what I want. I’ve known, since I was a young boy, that I want to work with the family. With my father.

“Behave,” she scolds me, and I nod with a groan.

“Massimoooo,” I hear from down the hall, and I bristle at the sound of her high-pitched voice. I bet I’d like it better if she were screaming.

My mother reminds me.

“She’s a little girl, figlio.”

“Massimo?” She speaks low, but loud enough to snap me out of my memory.

I gaze at her silently, as I attempt to make a connection between the gorgeous woman in front of me, and the annoying little girl, that liked to follow me around like a lost puppy. The same fair skin, slender neck, the lone freckle on her right cheekbone, and the fucking halo around her irises, that seems different now. More intense.

“I didn’t recognize you,” I say, as I scratch my head in confusion.

Giggling, she says, “I was a little girl. I would like to think I’ve changed.”

A million questions pop into my mind. Why didn’t my father tell me? Does my mother know? And who the fuck killed her father?

“Where did you get the information that my father was responsible for your father’s death?”

“Carlo,” she admits, after a hard swallow.

I stare at her incredulously.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right? That’s your source?”

“Yup,” she answers in a squeaky voice, telling me that she knows where she made a critical error.

She lets out a soft gasp when she catches my glare.

“Are you thinking of killing me again?”

I nod in response, refusing to tell her what I’m really thinking about. She spots my heated gaze, and gasps my name, telling me she’s thinking about the same thing.