Chapter 7 - The Master of the House
Derek whirled around, grabbing Alexis by the arm with such bruising force that she gasped in pain.
“Derek! You’re hurting me! What the hell is happening?”
“Get back on the plane,” he ordered, his face pale and twisted with rage.
“What? We just landed! The chalet—”
“There is no chalet!” Derek spat, his voice trembling with furious panic. “She took the accounts. She took everything. If we stay here, local marshals will impound the aircraft the second the Buffalo court order reaches Colorado jurisdiction! Get your bags and get back on the damn jet!”
He marched over to the charter pilot who had flown them in. “Captain, fuel the plane. We’re returning to Buffalo immediately.”
The pilot looked at Derek with a tight, guarded expression. “Mr. Harper, I can’t do that. Our flight coordinator just notified us that the corporate card paying for our fuel and hangar services has been cancelled. Furthermore, an alert from the Graham Family Trust Legal Division has flagged this airframe as a contested corporate asset. We are grounded until business hours on the twenty-sixth.”
Derek stepped within inches of the pilot, his eyes bulging. “I am Derek Harper! You fly when I tell you to fly, or you will never sit in a cockpit in North America again!”
“Sir,” a deep voice interrupted.
Two armed Aspen airport security officers walked through the glass doors, their hands resting calmly near their holsters.
“Mr. Derek Harper?” one of the officers asked. “We’ve received a notification from New York State regarding a civil enforcement injunction and an emergency domestic exclusion order. Your rental transport has been dismissed. You and your companion are required to vacate this private terminal immediately. You can wait for a commercial ride at the general departures curb outside.”
Alexis stared at Derek, her face pale with pure horror. “Commercial? Derek, you told me we had twenty million dollars! You told me Hannah was powerless!”
Derek didn't answer her. He pushed past the officers and walked out into the freezing Colorado snow, his mind racing through a single, burning obsession: Cedar Point.
He had to get back to Cedar Point.
Hannah was alone in that massive stone mansion with his daughter. He had emergency cash—two hundred thousand dollars in crisp hundred-dollar bills hidden inside the base of the gun safe in his dressing room. He had his physical passport, his car keys, and the bearer bonds. If he could reach Cedar Point before the formal court servers arrived on the day after Christmas, he could force Hannah to reverse the filings.
He would make her see reason. He had terrified hardened union bosses and corrupt port inspectors into submission for twenty years; he could certainly break the will of a woman carrying his child.
Using the remaining cash in his wallet, Derek managed to secure two seats on an early morning commercial red-eye through Chicago, dragging a sobbing, furious Alexis behind him.
During the six-hour nightmare of delays, crowded commercial terminals, and humiliating security checkpoints, Alexis realized the dream was over. By the time they landed in Chicago for their layover, she took her luggage, threw Derek’s corporate credit cards in his face, and boarded a flight to Miami, cursing his name.
Derek didn't care. Alexis was an accessory he no longer needed.
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By 1:30 PM on Christmas Day, Derek Harper landed back in Buffalo. The city was buried under twelve inches of fresh white powder, the sky gray and oppressive. He hailed a battered local taxi, tossing a crumpled hundred-dollar bill at the driver.
“Cedar Point,” Derek snarled. “Drive as fast as you can.”
