Florian's blue eyes travel through the living room, inspecting every wall and piece of furniture that would be gone in two days.

He hums softly, looking over at you, his wife, as you try to pull Sebastian, your son, away from you daughter, Rose.

"Kids, stop fighting," you breathe.

"We're trying to decide if we're getting this house, or sticking to the penthouse."

Your husband smiles, amused, tilting his head and glancing at his children.

"Be good for your mother, enfants," he murmurs.