Chapter 9 - The Cabin Door
The silence that followed the shutdown of the jet engines felt deafening.
I didn't wait for the guards. I broke past them, sprinting across the remaining fifty yards of tarmac toward the stationary private jet. The security officers made a half-hearted attempt to follow, but the red and blue flashing lights of local police cruisers were already screaming down the access road behind us, their sirens splitting the morning air.
I reached the bottom of the aircraft's retractable metal stairs, grabbed the emergency release handle, and yanked downward with all my weight.
The heavy cabin door popped open, swinging outward with a pneumatic hiss.
I climbed inside, stepping into the luxurious, mahogany-paneled interior of the private cabin. Leather seats, crystal glassware, and expensive champagne bottles lined the walls. Standing at the far end of the aisle, blocking the private stateroom door, was Eleanor Blackwood.
She wasn't panicking. She stood tall, leaning on her ebony cane, her expression as cold and immovable as carved granite.
"You never did know when to accept defeat, Julian," Eleanor said, her voice echoing softly in the enclosed cabin. "You've ruined a multi-million-dollar flight schedule, humiliated the board, and brought local law enforcement onto private property. And for what? A child who won't even remember your face by the time he's five?"
"Where is my son?" I snarled, taking a slow step toward her, my fists clenched at my sides.
"He's right where he belongs," Eleanor replied smoothly, gesturing with her chin toward the stateroom door behind her.
Before I could push past her, the stateroom door swung open.
A terrified nursemaid stepped out, holding a sleepy, tear-streaked fourteen-month-old baby in her arms. Ethan looked pale, his little eyes red from crying, clutching a small stuffed bear to his chest. As soon as his eyes landed on me, a small, desperate sob escaped his lips.
"Daddy..." he whimpered, stretching his tiny arms out toward me.
"Ethan," I choked out, the hot sting of tears finally breaking through my composure.
I brushed past my mother, ignoring her entirely, and scooped my son out of the nurse's arms, pulling him tightly against my chest. He buried his face in my neck, his little hands grabbing onto the back of my shirt as if he never wanted to let go again.
"We're going home, buddy," I whispered, kissing the top of his head as my hands trembled with a mixture of overwhelming relief and burning fury. đčđł
I turned around to face my mother, holding my son protectively in my arms.
"It's over, Mom," I said, my voice steady and cold. "The board meeting is finished. The police are outside. And your empire is about to be audited from the foundation up."
Eleanor didn't flinch. She simply looked at me with a gaze so devoid of warmth it felt subzero.
May you like
"You think a police report and an audit destroys a Blackwood, Julian?" she asked quietly, a thin, chilling smile touching her lips. "We built this city. We own the judges, the senators, and the banks. You won a battle today. But the war for this family's legacy has only just begun."
---
