“Better.”
Senior closes his eyes.
“I am beginning to regret this marriage.”
“You're late,” Xavier says.
Senior points toward me.
“You still need a postnuptial agreement.”
“Fine.”
Both men go silent.
Xavier turns.
“Fine?”
“Yes.”
His brows draw together.
“You've been fighting every lawyer who mentions it.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“I don't want your money.”
Senior says immediately, “Excellent.”
I look at him.
“I want the plane.”
Xavier stares.
“You hate flying.”
“I am evolving.”
His father rubs his forehead.
“The aircraft is held through a corporate structure.”
“Then put one in the postnup.”
“Sabine.”
“What? I married well.”
Xavier laughs.
Senior looks as though he misses the days when his largest problem was espionage.
Then he says, “Why did you marry him?”