I am petitioning for an emergency restraining order. By the time we land at Heathrow, British authorities will be waiting. Not to arrest me, but to escort you away from me for my safety." "You are lying!" Lydia yelled, looking around for support. "He is lying! He is trying to blackmail me!" She lunged for his tablet.
"Give me that!" This time the pilot intervened. Captain Ellis, a stern man with gray hair, stepped out of the cockpit. He had been briefed by Rachel. "Mrs. Beaumont," the captain boomed, "sit down immediately. You are interfering with a flight crew and now assaulting a passenger. One more move and we will restrain you with zip ties.
" Lydia fell back into her seat, hyperventilating. She grabbed her phone. "I am calling Victor. He will fix this. He will destroy you." "Please do," Julian said, returning to his screen. "He should be receiving the electronic service of the lawsuit right about now." The plane was 3 hours from London. The cabin lights were dimmed, but sleep was impossible for anyone in the first three rows.
Lydia's hands trembled as she connected to the Wi-Fi calling. She dialed her husband. It rang once, twice. "Lydia!" Victor Beaumont's voice was frantic. "Where are you? What is going on?" "Victor, this man, this awful man on the plane, he attacked me. He is threatening us. He says his name is Cross." There was a silence on the other end, a long, heavy silence.
"Lydia?" Victor's voice was a whisper of pure horror. "Did you say Cross? Julian Cross?" "Yes, he is a monster. He spilled wine on himself and blamed me. You have to sue him. You have to kill the deal." "You idiot!" Victor screamed. The sound was so loud, Lydia had to pull the phone away from her ear. "You complete and total idiot! My lawyer just called me.
Cross just pulled the term sheet. The deal is dead, Lydia, dead! And he has filed a motion to freeze our personal accounts pending a $10 million lawsuit." "What?" Lydia gasped. "But he is just He is nobody!" "He is the most powerful corporate lawyer in New York, you stupid woman." Victor was shrieking now.
"Do you know what you have done? We needed that money to pay the loans. If he walks, the bank calls the debt on Monday. We lose the house. We lose the cars. We lose everything." Lydia looked across the aisle. Julian was sipping his sparkling water, looking out the window at the clouds. He did not even turn his head.
"Victor, fix it!" she cried. "Tell him you are sorry! Tell him I am sorry!" "He is not taking my calls," Victor yelled. "His office sent a cease and desist. They have a recording, Lydia. They have a recording of you using racial slurs. It is over. It is all over." The line went dead. Lydia dropped the phone. It clattered onto the floor. She looked at Julian.
The arrogance was gone. The entitlement was gone. All that was left was fear. "Mr. Cross," she whimpered. Her voice was small, pathetic. "Mr. Cross, please. It was a misunderstanding. I am under a lot of stress. Please, my husband, he has a heart condition." Julian slowly turned his head. His expression was unreadable.
"Mrs. Beaumont," he said, "when you looked at me when I boarded, you did not see a human being. You saw a target. You tried to humiliate me because it made you feel powerful. Now that the power has shifted, you want mercy." He leaned forward slightly. "I do not sell mercy. I sell justice, and the price just went up.
" The remaining 3 hours of the flight were an exercise in psychological torture for Lydia Beaumont. The cabin, once a symbol of her status, had transformed into a claustrophobic cell. The air recycling system hummed with a monotonous drone that seemed to drill into her temples. The smell of the sour drying wine on the carpet near seat 1A wafted over to her every time the air conditioning vents shifted, a pungent reminder of her mistake.
Julian Cross had not said another word to her. He had changed out of his stained suit jacket, hanging it carefully in the closet with Rachel's assistance, and was now working in his crisp white shirt, though the red stain on his chest remained visible, a badge of the assault. He ate the three-course meal served by the flight crew with methodical calmness, roasted duck breast with cherry glaze, followed by a cheese plate.
