I realise I’ve gone awfully close to throwing an insult at his feet—worse, to blaming him for Uncle Richard’s problem. I try to back-pedal. ‘You made your fortune building casinos. Why would you stop and think about the ramifications on a society? Why would you see anything but good in these places that tempt and seduce people to fritter away their hard-earned money? How many lives have been ruined in your quest for this gambling empire?’

To his credit, he doesn’t let my barb derail his argument. ‘If I don’t build this casino, someone else will––perhaps not on crown land, and then your approval will not be needed.’

‘I’m aware of that.’ It’s the only reason I dismissed the possibility of refusing to sell to him. I’m fighting a losing battle, so I might as well try to control it and get some benefits for the people of this country.

‘I want to know that the income from your venture will fund health care and education for my people. I want to know there will be employment prospects for future generations. I want there to be world-class hospitality training available. Marlsdoven is haemorrhaging young citizens. They go to school here, but many then move abroad for tertiary studies and stay there. I understand the lure of your casino, Mr del Almodovár, and I understand that there are benefits. But I’m not going to stand here and pretend I’m not highly sceptical of the whole operation.’

He looks at me for several moments and I wonder if I’ve gone too far. I intended to improve the deal with him, not ruin it altogether. Is there a risk I’ve done just that?

‘Your parents died seven years ago.’

It’s the absolute last thing I’d expected him to say. It’s like an arrow coming out of left field, spearing me with pain in my side. I blink away from him, frowning as I take in the glistening river.

‘Yes.’

‘You were seventeen.’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s very young to assume such responsibilities.’

It’s true. At seventeen, I felt grown up but, looking back, I was still a child. A child who’d had to grieve the loss of her parents and somehow hold together a grief-stricken nation as well. The need to be what my people required meant I never had the time or space for my own feelings.

‘I managed.’

For a moment, before he dips his head in acknowledgement, I think I see sympathy in his eyes. I hate it. I don’t want his sympathy—or perhaps it’s more that I can’t live with it. When anyone is kind to me I grow close to tears, and if this man, who came barrelling into the palace with such obvious animosity and disrespect, starts being nice...?

I cough to hide the fact I’m clearing my throat, not wanting him to register that I’m emotionally off-kilter.

‘I can see you take your duty to the people of Marlsdoven seriously.’

I stare at him, waiting for him to make his point.

‘This casino will benefit them.’

I hate that he’s talking as though this is a fait accompli, even though I understand that it is. It must be. I can’t go against the wishes of my country’s Prime Minister and Treasurer. Frustration is like a whirlpool in my gut, swallowing me whole.

‘Casinos benefit nobody,’ I say caustically. ‘Except, of course, the corporation behind the casino, which naturally stands to make gross profits from people’s hope-filled gambling.’

It’s the wrong thing to say. Anger flashes like a blade in his eyes, whatever sympathy I’d seen a moment ago evaporating completely. ‘Yes, I profit from my casinos.’

‘Not just ‘profit’.’ Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. ‘You make tens and tens of billions every year. Honestly, what does someone even need with all that money? Don’t you have enough? Is another casino in your empire really necessary?’

His eyes narrow.

‘How do you sleep at night, Santiago, when the people who flood the floors of your casinos are living out their worst nightmare?’

‘You have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh, yes, I do. I know damned well what places like your casinos do to families and lives.’ I’m trembling with the force of my anger, Uncle Richard’s haunted expression something I’ll never forget. ‘I hate everything about what you do. And I loathe the idea of selling this land to you.’

‘What can I say, Your Highness? We do not all have the advantages of being born into this.’ He gestures to the palace, and contempt is encompassed in the flat line of his mouth.

I’m so tempted to tell him that being born into royalty is many things, but ‘advantaged’ is not one of them.

‘No, that’s true,’ I say instead. ‘Most people aren’t royal.’ I aim for sarcasm. It’s small-minded and rude, but I don’t think I care.

A scathing twist of his lips shows, if anything, my remark has amused him. ‘You want to keep “your people” in the dark ages.’

Tags: Clare Connelly Billionaire Romance
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