Chapter 3 - Turbulence In The Air
Watching Patricia gather her precious crocodile handbag while stumbling down the narrow aisle was pure, unadulterated justice. Passengers who had witnessed her rude remarks at the boarding gate watched in silent amusement as she was escorted back to the middle seats of coach. Her designer heels clicked awkwardly against the runners, her face flaming scarlet. Mason followed like a scolded puppy, clutching his rumpled garment bag.
I settled into seat 2A, the plush leather yielding beneath me. Captain Miller returned to the cockpit, and within minutes, the engines roared to life, lifting the aircraft into the gray morning skies toward the Rockies.
My father sat across the aisle in seat 2B, staring ahead at the bulkhead wall. For the first twenty minutes of the climb, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the white noise of the cabin air and the faint chimes of the seatbelt signs extinguishing.
“She’s my wife, Nora,” he finally whispered, not daring to meet my eyes. “You humiliated her in front of an entire plane.”
“She humiliated herself the moment she treated another human being like dirt,” I replied without turning my head. “You let her erase my mother from our family home. You let her replace every photograph, sell my mother’s piano, and treat me like an interloper. You stood silently by while she groomed Mason to take over your firm using my mother’s legacy trust as collateral.”
My father stiffened. “What do you mean, collateral?”
I pulled a polished leather tablet from my briefcase and opened an encrypted PDF. “Did you really think I spent the last two years hiding in grief? While Patricia bragged about Aspen vacations and Mason’s non-existent genius, I audited the family holding firm. Patricia convinced you to pledge thirty percent of Bennett Capital’s assets to secure Mason’s upcoming venture fund. But those assets were backed by aero-logistics shares that belonged to my mother’s estate.”
His hands began to shake slightly. “The lawyers told me the estate had granted power of attorney to the marital trust.”
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“Lawyers hired by Patricia’s brother,” I corrected him. “It was a fraudulent transfer. As of eight o’clock this morning, our corporate counsel froze those accounts. Mason isn’t becoming a partner this weekend, Dad. In fact, if the board finishes reviewing the forensic audit by Monday, he’s going to be facing a full criminal investigation for embezzling operational reserves.”
My father slumped back into his seat, looking ten years older in an instant. The grand weekend in Aspen was already unraveling, and our wheels hadn't even touched the snow.
