The billionaire turned sharply.
“Her?”
The financial officer remained silent.
The CEO looked toward him.
“Yes. A member of your maintenance team.”
She paused.
“The same employee whose shift assignment changed shortly after she raised the issue.”
The younger executive swallowed.
The billionaire stared at his financial officer.
Then he asked quietly, “What exactly have you been telling me?”
No one answered.
And for the first time that afternoon, the billionaire appeared far more frightened of the truth than of the red screen.
The chief financial officer attempted to regain control by moving the conversation away from the aircraft.
He suggested a private meeting.
Then a short delay.
Then a temporary status update that would allow the invited photographers to capture the billionaire beside the jet without announcing that the transfer had completed.
The CEO rejected the last suggestion immediately.
“No photographs suggesting the transaction has closed.”
The financial officer stared.
“It's a ceremonial event.”
“Then it can be described accurately as a proposed transaction.”
He looked offended.
“That's unnecessarily cautious.”
She pointed toward the red monitor.
“The money hasn't been released.”
He glanced toward the waiting media representatives.
“An announcement delay could damage confidence.”
The CEO held his gaze.
“A misleading announcement could damage it more.”
The billionaire looked toward the press area.
Several photographers had been watching the confrontation.
An assistant approached and whispered that the communications team wanted to know whether the signing photographs should proceed.
The billionaire rubbed his forehead.
For a moment, he looked much older than sixty-two.
Then he spoke.
“Cancel the photo session.”
The financial officer turned sharply.
“Sir—”
“Cancel it.”
The executive stopped.
The billionaire looked toward the CEO.
“Come upstairs.”
She nodded.
“But my technical director is joining us.”
The billionaire's expression tightened.
He clearly disliked being given conditions inside his own building.
Then he looked toward the red monitor again.
“Fine.”
The CEO retrieved the documents the billionaire had thrown onto the floor.
She didn't ask him to pick them up.
She simply gathered the pages, arranged them carefully, and placed them back inside her portfolio.
The younger executive watched.
Something about the quiet gesture embarrassed him more than any speech could have.
For years, he'd witnessed powerful men treat assistants, receptionists, and technicians as though their time didn't matter.
He'd sometimes laughed along.
Sometimes looked away.