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He hesitates, glancing toward the laughter of his daughter and her boyfriend. “I still have much at stake.”

In that moment, I realize the truth. Christian is an old man who likes to talk, to feel important, but when it comes to doing important things, he’s a coward.

I shove myself off the railing.

“Where are you going?” Christian calls after me.

“What I know about war is this—most people don’t have the luxury of choosing whether they’re involved. They can’t sell their stake and disappear with their families.” I gesture pointedly at the yacht, and he folds his arms.

“I can’t help you the way you would like.”

I turn my back on him. “Call me when you can.”