C241 Rowan, you have to choose. Amara or your family

Rowan’s jaw clenched as he heard his mother’s words. He held his fist so tight that his knuckles turned white. A few seconds passed, as he felt his patience wearing thin, he took a deep breath and picked up his fork and knife again, cutting his meat with slow and aristocratic manners. “You arranged everything behind my back.” He calmly said.

“It’s for the best.” Antonio Falcone