(Arthur’s POV)
“I want to talk to you, Boy,” Father says the moment Mother has Sienna out of earshot.
I restrain myself from rolling my eyes. “Of course, Father.”
“In private,” he snaps.
I follow him from the family dining room across the hall to his study.
We no sooner step inside the floor-to-ceiling mahogany-paneled room when he starts in on me marrying Sienna. “Son, what the hell are you thinking?” He sits down in his throne-inspired leather-backed chair behind a solid, hand-carved mahogany desk.
I decide to sit across from him, glancing at the roaring embers in the fireplace behind and to the left of the desk. They dance like shadows on the wooden paneling of the walls. Then I close my eyes, taking in the crackling sounds.
“Father,” I say coolly. “Sienna is my fiancé. We are
