Page 54 of Love to Defy You
Mikhail steps forward to kiss Anastasia on the cheek. “Hi, Ana, wow. You look so...” He gestures up and down at her but doesn’t finish his thought.
Yeah, I’m at a loss for words, too. Her outfit is utterly ridiculous.
Ana lets out a dainty laugh and turns to me. “Aren’t you going to greet me properly, brother?”
When I sigh, my shoulders relax. “Come here.” I throw my arm around her neck and mess up her hair.
She slaps me away. “Ugh, never mind. Willow, how do you stand him? He’s impossible.” Ana smooths her hair back into place.
“You want me to be nice?” I arch a stern eyebrow at my little sister and fold my arms. “Then tell me what you’re doing here.”
Ana huffs. “Mat’is impossible. I hate it there with her.”
I don’t blame her. Our mother puts Ana through the most rigorous finishing schools for young ladies, which is a fancy way of saying they’re grooming girls to become refined and elegant trophy wives. Pretty accessories on the arms of wealthy men but not much else.
“Hold on.” I hold up a hand. “Does she even know you’re here?”
Ana folds her arms and pops her hip with a scoff. Typical teenager.
“Ana,” I warn.
“Fine.” Her porcelain cheeks grow a pale shade of pink. “I snuck out.”
Willow blinks. “When I snuck out of the house, I had a dumb jock pick me up in his car and take me to the other side of the railroad tracks. Not to another whole-ass country.”
Ana looks smug. “Oh, it’s easy. I took the train. I just got in this morning and ate lunch in town. There’s this adorable little restaurant I have to take you to, Willow.”
“The train ride alone is eight hours.” Mikhail shrugs off his coat. “You shouldn’t be so reckless. It’s dangerous to travel alone at your age.”
Her bright, blue eyes narrow. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”
Mikhail doesn’t take anything seriously, but when it comes to Ana, he treats her like a younger sister. We all grew up together, and I certainly needed his help wrangling the spirited little girl when our parents couldn’t be bothered to raise us. None of her governesses lasted more than six months because Ana was such a brat.
She was only sweet with Mikhail and me, but she’s always had an easier time wrapping Mick around her little finger. I lived with her, so I see right through her tricks.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, but I don’t have any missed calls from my mother. Her underage daughter is missing, and she hasn’t even bothered to call me.
Ana’s eyes grow wide. “You’re not going to tell her, are you? Please, don’t. You have no idea what she’s making me do.”
I sigh and slide my phone back into my coat. “I won’t say anything unless she calls me and asks.”
Ana flings her arms around me. “Thank you.”
Mikhail plops down onto one of the beige sofas angled around the fireplace. “And what is she making you do?”
She releases me and sits next to him. “Mat’is making me marry this horrible old man from Dubai when I turn eighteen.”
“What?” I take the seat across from her, and Willow sits by my side.
Mikhail swallows. “How old?”
“In his fifties.” Ana throws herself against the sofa cushions. “It’s disgusting.”
My parents had a plan for Anastasia’s life from the moment she was born, and that plan was simple: marry her off to a Russian oligarch once she was old enough. They claimed it was her duty to help the family make strategic alliances for the good of Andarusia, but in reality, they were selling their daughter to the highest bidder.
But now that we’ve fallen out of favor with Russian high society, my mother has had to cast a wider net. I’d be willing to gamble this chalet on the fact that her new betrothed is an oil tycoon and/or an Arab prince.
I share a glance with Mikhail, and a dark look crosses his face.
