Claire's POV
I discovered the problem with living in a billionaire's house on Friday morning.
Not the size — I had adjusted to the size with more ease than expected, largely because Theo had claimed the ground floor with the territorial confidence of a small person who understood instinctively that occupation was nine-tenths of ownership and had distributed his things accordingly. Gerald on the kitchen counter. Three stones from the garden on the hallway windowsill. A drawing — boat, waves, what I believed was intended to be a lighthouse but resembled a large sock — sellotaped to the refrigerator at knee height.
Alexandre had not moved any of it.
This was the thing I kept catching myself noting. The way he reconfigured himself around Theo's presence without comment or negotiation — ste
