How did he come to this? His father, in his endless pursuit of power, had orchestrated yet another grand scheme. This time, it was binding him to someone through marriage. Not for love, not for respect, but to secure his father’s ambitions. Another move on the chessboard, and as always, he was the pawn being manipulated. He should have seen it coming, His Father Lucius had never allowed sentiment to interfere with strategy. Yet somehow, standing here, it felt different. This time, something in Draco had been irreparably lost.

“I suppose it was inevitable. He never cared about what I wanted. Why start now?”

The words slipped out of Draco's mouth, low and bitter, but he didn’t care. His grey eyes, sharp and cold like his father’s, betrayed a flicker of resentment he couldn’t entirely hide. His platinum-blonde hair, perfectly styled, felt like part of the mask he had worn all his life—the immaculate Malfoy heir, obedient, composed, and utterly hollow inside. It was what he had been raised to be. To honor his father’s decisions. To trust in his vision. But this? This was a step too far, even for him. Though, of course, he would never dare say so aloud.

“Let’s just get inside” Draco said curtly, his voice tight with restrained anger as he motioned toward the entrance door of Malfoy Manor without waiting for a response.