Vincent wasn’t surprised when the papers arrived. He read them standing in the kitchen, one hand braced against the counter, the other flipping through pages with the confidence of someone who believed the outcome had already been decided.
“She’s suing,” he said, amused. “Of course she is.” Britney, his new woman, sat on the barstool behind him, scrolling on her phone. “Didn’t you say she wouldn’t have the money for that?” “I did,” Vincent replied. “But that’s fine. I was prepared.”