WAR IN COURT
ALEXANDER
The drive to Nice was a blur of coastline and blue sky, moving in silence. The city rose up to meet me, buildings and bridges and the kind of traffic that made a man grateful for tinted windows.
The private jet was waiting before I arrived, so I boarded immediately and we took off. The flight was smooth, the descent into Paris was smoother. And then I was in a car again, watching the city slide past, until the court came into view.
Bernard was already waiting for me at the entrance. His suit was gray, his face was grim and his briefcase was clutched under his arm.
She's already inside," he said, falling into step beside me. "Brought her entire team. Three lawyers, two paralegals, and a media consultant who's been feeding stories to the press all morning.
I didn
