A Criminal Kiss [Max Verstappen]

chapter nineteen

The Lockhart estate was grand, the stone walls towering over us like something from a fairy tale. Its polished exterior gleamed in the fading sunlight, the scent of roses and freshly trimmed grass mixing in the air, making it seem even more like the kind of place where secrets and promises were made. I glanced at my father, who walked ahead of us with the air of someone completely at ease in this world, a world where titles and appearances mattered above all else.

"Hold yourself with dignity, Annalise," he murmured as we approached the gates. His eyes flicked to Clara, who was practically skipping beside him, her light laughter ringing out as she chattered with anyone and everyone around her. "And try not to let Clara cause too much trouble. You know how she is."

I nodded absently, my eyes drifting toward the grand ballroom in the distance, where the guests had already started gathering. The chandeliers glowed softly through the windows, casting an inviting golden light across the perfectly manicured grounds. Inside, I could already imagine the glittering conversations, the men with their perfectly polished manners, the women draped in gowns that spoke more of their family name than their personality.

Clara, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to any of it. As we walked through the gates, she bounced up to me, practically pulling me along by the arm. "Do you think they'll have any champagne?" she asked loudly, her voice carrying over the crowd, not at all concerned with the fact that my father was already engaged in conversation with a group of men. "I hope father will let me have some. Franco was telling me how wonderful it is!"

I forced a smile and looked down at her.

"Keep your voice down, Clara," I murmured, brushing a stray curl from her face.

"Oh, come on, Anna. It's not like anyone's going to care if I talk a little," Clara said with a shrug, completely oblivious to the way other ladies in the room glanced over at us with raised eyebrows. She didn't understand that the weight of our names and family history meant something more at these gatherings. For her, it was all about the fun.

"It's not about you talking loud, it's about you talking about Franco. You know, you're too young to be looking for suitors. So, might want to start caring," I said dryly, my gaze flicking over to Father, who was already deep in conversation with Lord Henley. "Also, Father doesn't like it when we draw too much attention."

"I don't care what Father says!" Clara huffed, though her tone didn't hold any real defiance. It was just her usual, innocent dismissal of anything she didn't want to deal with. "I just want to enjoy myself."

We reached the foot of the grand staircase, where guests were filtering in and out, their chatter filling the air. Father greeted the host, a man I barely knew, but I could see the practiced smile on his face—the smile that never quite reached his eyes when he was around people like this. Men of influence, men who held power in the world of titles and estates.

"I'll be right here, dear," Father said curtly as he turned to join his peers, his shoulders broadening with the weight of their approval.

Clara wasted no time. She grabbed my arm again, dragging me toward the edge of the ballroom. "Anna, let's go see if any of them have any sweets. You know how I love pastries. I'm starving already!"

"Clara," I said, exasperated, "don't go off on your own. Stay with Father."

"I'll be fine!" she exclaimed, her eyes already scanning the crowd for her next distraction.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. My sister was charming in the way only a girl her age could be—sweet, innocent, and completely unaware of the power dynamics around her.

I wished I could have had her carefree attitude, but it was as if my entire life was a chessboard, where every move had been decided for me long ago.

As Clara flitted off toward a group of young women standing by the refreshment table, I was left standing at the edge of the room.

There was no escape here, no room for anything other than what they expected of me. I was Duchess Annalise—an ornament to be admired and passed around among the men who thought of me as little more than a name. I could already hear their murmurs of approval as they looked me over, sizing me up like cattle at an auction.

It wasn't long before someone approached me. A tall man with dark hair and a square jaw—Lord Westfield, if I remembered correctly—was making his way over, a smile already forming on his lips as he extended his hand toward me.

"Your Grace," he said smoothly, "It's a pleasure to see you tonight."

I pasted on a polite smile, shaking his hand briefly. "Lord Westfield, always a pleasure."

We exchanged pleasantries, the usual formalities. But even as I nodded and responded to his questions about my health and the estate, my mind kept drifting toward Clara. She was laughing with a group of girls near the back of the room, her voice too loud, her presence far too conspicuous.

Father would have a fit if he saw her acting this way, but I knew he wouldn't—he was too absorbed in his own conversations, his own pursuits. And that was the problem. Clara, for all her immaturity, was able to slip through the cracks, able to live in a world of innocence and ignorance. Me? I had been taught from the time I could walk how to play the part of the dutiful daughter, the woman who did what was expected of her, no questions asked.

And yet, as I glanced back toward Clara, her laughter echoing through the grand hall, I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. She had no idea what it was like to be trapped in the expectations of a title, to be watched at every moment. She was still a child in so many ways, and I found myself wondering—if I had been born in her place, would I be as carefree?

"Is everything all right, Your Grace?"

Lord Westfield's voice pulled me back to the present, and I realized I had been staring off into space. I offered him a smile, my attention returning to the task at hand.

"Yes, of course," I said, but my thoughts remained elsewhere, lingering on the carefree nature of Clara's world—the world I would never be able to return to.

The rest of the night was beyond a bore.

The only thing that kept me going being the nagging voice at the back of my mind reminding me of a certain someone's very wise words.

One day things were going to change.

Hopefully.

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