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Summary
“You have been engaged to the eldest son of De Castro. His Empire and the British Isles have already made the deal. You are leaving for the Sainz Empire in a week’s time.”
Lando felt a growl rip through him, and then his hands were fisted into the Duke’s collar, jerking him forwards so suddenly that spit flew from his fleshy lips.
“Tell me you did not, Father.” Lando’s voice was high, pitchy, on the verge of breaking. “Tell me that–”
“I will tell you that you are to be married to the Crown Prince, a fine, well-bred alpha, of an immensely powerful empire. You should be grateful.”
Lando’s fingers crept their way to his father’s neck. “Grateful? You sold me to the highest bidder,” Lando hissed, fingernails dimpling into pale flesh.
"As is my right."