The morning before Zeraida's departure arrived far sooner than either of them desired. The sunrise cast long shadows across the private dining room, where her packed suitcases already rested near the main entryway.
Rhea had spent the previous evening sending continuous updates regarding their international flight, leaving little time for quiet reflection. Throughout breakfast, Xaviere remained exceptionally quiet, his dark eyes fixed on his porcelain cup with unusual focus.
Zeraida set her silver fork down, watching the subtle posture of her husband across the table.
"You are orchestrating something," she remarked smoothly, leaning her chin on her palm.
Xaviere lifted his coffee cup, his stoic features maintaining a flawless air of indifference.
"You have grown increasingly distrustful," he noted, taking a slow sip.
"I married a corporate titan," she countered, her lips curving into a playful smirk. "Developing healthy skepticism is simply a basic survival skill."
