Deviant Prince [Romano Brotherhood, #2]

10 | Vivienne

"Nature versus nurture. Go."

Shiv frowns at me—although I can't tell if it's because of what I've said, or her bite of the muffins I've spent the last couple hours preparing.

"What the fuck did you put in this?"

I bite my lip sheepishly. Bold of me to assume it was about anything but the food. "I followed the recipe. What, is it not good?"

I grab one and take a tentative nibble. No. Immediately no. It tastes like baking soda and I'm not sure I even remembered to put baking soda in there.

"It's alright, there's always next time," Shiv clears her throat after graciously choking down her bite. "Zahra is not gonna be happy though, is she?"

I glare at what should've been my delicious, homemade apple-cinnamon muffins. I don't know exactly what possessed me to make them. Maybe the fact that I've given in to my mother begging me to spend Valentine's Day with my family in the city, if only so I can get away from everything that's been happening around here lately. And maybe I wanted to prove to them that I'm not completely useless and can make food without burning something down or creating a radioactive substance.

Passing the time while waiting for my neighbor to allegedly bust in and kill me was a bonus.

I check the time, gratefulness for my friend coursing through me. She scrapped her studying for tonight and came over to try my muffins at one in the morning, no questions asked.

"She'll have shit to say, I'm sure," I sigh. "This shatters her dreams for me. The ones that involve me knowing what to do in the kitchen, anyway."

I will forever curse the fact that the cooking gene wasn't passed down to me from my mother. It's devastating for her, coming from a large Middle Eastern family where food—and lots of it— was the main event of every single family occasion. All the women in my family have been amazing cooks and I... am not. 

"Whatever. I'll stop at that bakery and get something. You know, the one with the cute chef?"

"Ugh. Don't remind me about him. His buns are phenomenal," Shiv sighs dreamily. "His baked goods are great, too."

I get up to throw away my latest kitchen fail, pretending I don't notice the way she chugs water to rid her mouth of the taste. "Now what were you saying about nature versus nurture?"

I shrug, trying to act normal. "I'm just curious. What's the general consensus on how that applies to, say, insane people?"

"What makes you ask?" Shiv laughs.

"I watched a true crime documentary earlier that just had me wondering." Lie, lie, lie. "What makes people so fucked up. Whether it's environmental or biological factors. And asking you is better than consulting Google."

Shiv is getting her master's in counseling and she plans to be a therapist. If there's anyone who knows about the human mind, it's her. And some may call it grasping at straws, but I call it taking advantage of my options. It's not like I'm operating on any false assumptions that I'm totally in control here. 

Yet.

"What do you mean by insane? Are we talking sociopaths? Psychopaths?"

Shit. I'm not trying to fucking diagnose the guy. I just need some pointers on how to handle someone like him. Someone so... empty. 

"Both?" I shrug, figuring my best bet is to cast my net as wide as possible.

"Well, the simple answer is that it's both nature and nurture. At least in my opinion," Shiv says, slipping into her 'I'm-an-academic-and-I-know-things' tone. "But it's different depending on who you're dealing with."