Financial journalists described him as ruthless.
Business partners called him demanding.
Former employees used less flattering words.
He had built a fortune worth several billion dollars.
And somewhere along the way, he had convinced himself that being wealthy made him an authority on everyone else's worth.
He pointed toward the woman's seat.
"I'm expecting an important business associate to travel in this section."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"Then I hope your associate enjoys the flight."
His expression darkened.
"You're sitting where he should be."
She glanced toward the small digital display beside her armrest.
Seat 1A.
Her name.
Confirmed.
"According to my boarding pass, this seat is mine."
He laughed sharply.
"You think a boarding pass means something?"
"Usually."
"Not when somebody important needs the seat."
The woman looked at him for several seconds.
Then asked, "And who decides who's important?"
Richard smiled.
"People who can afford to make decisions."
He turned toward the flight attendant.
"You. Come here."
The attendant approached immediately.
She was a white American woman in her late twenties, wearing a fitted burgundy uniform with gold buttons, a silk neck scarf, and a carefully arranged blonde bun.
Her name badge identified her as a senior cabin attendant.
"Good morning, sir. How may I help?"
Richard pointed toward seat 1A.
"I want this woman moved."
The attendant looked confused.
"Moved, sir?"
"Yes."
"Is there an issue with your assigned seat?"
Richard sighed loudly.
"Why does everybody on this aircraft insist on asking stupid questions?"
The attendant stiffened.
The seated woman watched quietly.
Richard continued.
"I reserved premium accommodations for my entire executive party. One member of my group needs this position."
The attendant glanced at her tablet.
"Sir, may I have your seat number?"
"Two C."
She checked.
"Your seat is directly behind this row."
"I know where my seat is."
"Then perhaps I can assist your associate with—"
"No."
He pointed again.
"I want this seat."
The attendant swallowed.
"Sir, seat 1A is occupied by a confirmed passenger."
Richard smiled coldly.
"Then unconfirm her."
A nervous silence settled over the cabin.
The attendant looked toward the woman in yellow.
"Ma'am, may I see your boarding pass?"
The woman reached into her small designer handbag.
She removed a cream-colored boarding pass and handed it over.
The attendant scanned it.
The reservation was valid.
Paid.
Confirmed.