Page 58 of Disgraced (Russian Sinners 3)

“O negative.” She nodded and I could just see her storing the information in that brilliant brain of hers.

“Nikolai, feel his forehead,” she ordered my brother.

“You don’t want to kiss me?” I teased her as Nikolai’s rough hand touched my forehead. Yeah, I definitely preferred Anastasia’s cool hand.

“I can’t quite tell,” my brother told her.

She leaned over and placed her lips on my forehead, just like last time.

“Give him two Ibuprofens,” she told Nikolai and then asked Dimitry, “How much longer to our destination?”

“Twenty minutes.”

I could see the worry on her face, worry for me. I could almost imagine her brain counting down.

“What’s your happiest memory from childhood?” I asked her to get her mind off me.

She met my eyes, so much sadness in those emeralds that captivated my oldest brother. She cleared her throat, as if she needed to ease the choke in her throat.

“I danced from… well, from the moment I could walk. At least my mom used to say that.” She smiled tenderly at the mention of her mother. It was nice to see it, because the thoughts of my parents only sent me into a rage. “I was in ballet from the age of four. When I was nine, my parents and grandfather took me to St. Petersburg to seeThe Nutcracker. I can still smell the stage and hear the chatter of the dancers. I made my mom take me to the bathroom multiple times during the show, just so I could sneak a glimpse of the beautiful ballerinas. Of course, my mom figured out why I kept insisting on going to the bathroom. When it was really time to go to the bathroom, she refused thinking it was another stunt from me. By the time I finally convinced her I had to go for real, I almost peed myself.”

“Why is that your favorite memory?” I asked with a weak chuckle. “It is almost an embarrassing memory.”

“It was the last time we were all together,” she told me softly. “We stayed there for a week and could see the Winter Palace from our hotel. I pretended to be the princess, driving my grandfather crazy. My dad didn’t work the entire week, my mom’s phone was turned off for the duration of the trip, and my grandfather didn’t turn on the news once.” She stared into the pitch-black outside of the car, her mind clearly lost in the memory. “A few weeks later my mother died.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Now, I wished I didn’t ask her that question. I placed my palm over her free hand offering my comfort. If she only knew how sorry I was. I felt so responsible for the pain she experienced.

“Don’t be. And don’t move your arm; otherwise I’ll have to tie you down.”

“I might like that,” I retorted, teasingly and she shook her head in disbelief but a little smile played around her lips.

“Why did you stop?” Dimitry asked her. She raised her eyebrow not understanding what he meant. “Why did you stop dancing?”

She took a deep breath, and I could almost relate to her pain and regret that etched on her face.

“I couldn’t dance without thinking about her,” her words were choked. “I… I just couldn’t do it without getting upset so I stopped.”

If I had any strength left, I’d pull her into a hug. She should have never gone through an ordeal like that. She and her mother didn’t deserve to experience something as horrific as that. The fact that my father was the cause of it was even more disturbing.

There was no doubt in my mind that Dimitry and Anastasia would end up together. It was one of those things that you just instinctively knew. Then she would be my sister. Unless Dimitry killed me beforehand.

---