The CEO looked toward the blonde woman.
She stared at him.
He did not smile.
That made it worse.
“Do you even know who I am?” he asked quietly.
Her own words.
Returned without anger.
She looked toward her husband.
He whispered something that sounded like:
“Oh, God.”
The CEO opened the folder.
On the first page was the acquisition announcement.
APEX MERIDIAN HOLDINGS COMPLETES CONTROLLING ACQUISITION OF AURORA CREST AVIATION.
Below it was the CEO's photograph.
The same man now sitting in front of them covered in coffee.
The blonde woman stepped backward.
“I didn't know.”
The CEO nodded slowly.
“I know.”
That answer devastated her more than outrage would have.
Because it exposed the entire problem.
She would not have thrown coffee if she knew he owned the company.
She would not have demanded his seat.
She would not have spoken to him that way.
The fact that she had not known was precisely why the incident mattered.
Her husband recovered first.
“This is obviously a misunderstanding.”
The CEO turned toward him.
“Which part?”
“My wife—”
“Threw a drink at another passenger.”
“She was frustrated.”
“She ordered staff to remove a properly seated passenger.”
“There was confusion.”
“She insulted two flight attendants.”
The husband's face tightened.
“This can be handled privately.”
The CEO looked around the cabin.
“At least four people witnessed it.”
The consultant raised his phone slightly.
“Five,” he said.
The husband glared.
The CEO looked toward the captain.
“Hold departure.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Contact airport security.”
The blonde woman’s voice broke.
“You can't be serious.”
He turned.
“You assaulted a passenger on an aircraft before departure.”
“I threw coffee.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not—”
She stopped.
The CEO waited.
Not what?
Not serious?
Not assault because the victim had turned out to be powerful?
The woman looked toward her husband.
He stepped closer to the CEO.
“Can we speak privately?”
“No.”
“Sir.”
The title tasted painful coming from him now.
“We've invested heavily in this company.”
The CEO nodded.
“Your investment office held 3.8 percent before closing.”
The husband’s eyes widened slightly.
The CEO continued.
“Your firm rolled 1.2 percent into the new structure.”
Several passengers looked toward the husband.
The supposed major owner.
Reduced suddenly to arithmetic.
The CEO said:
“You do not control this aircraft.”
“You do not control its employees.”
“And your capital does not purchase immunity for your family.”
The husband’s face reddened.