Chapter 4: The Airport Confrontation
Chapter 4: The Airport Confrontation
The private terminal at the international airport was bathed in the harsh, blue glare of the early morning rain. Eleanor Mendoza stood near the security gate, her expensive mink coat draped over her shoulders, her assistants frantically trying to load her luxury luggage onto a private Gulfstream jet. Julian stood beside her, his expression frantic, his eyes darting toward the glass entrance.
"Move faster!" Eleanor hissed at the terminal manager. "My family funds this entire hangar. You clear this flight path immediately, or I will have your position terminated before sunrise."
"I'm afraid his position is perfectly secure, Mother," my voice echoed across the polished marble lobby of the terminal.
Eleanor turned around, her face twisting into a mask of pure rage as I walked into the hangar, flanked by Officer Davis and four uniformed airport police officers. Behind us, the flashing red and blue lights of three police cruisers illuminated the wet tarmac outside.
"Gabriel!" Eleanor shrieked. "You ungrateful, treacherous boy! You are destroying your own family! If you let them arrest Julian, the company’s stock will collapse by the opening bell!"
"The company's stock belongs to Clara now, Mother," I said, stepping onto the terminal floor, my boots crunching loudly against the pristine surface. "Julian, put your hands behind your back."
"No!" Julian screamed, drawing a small, concealed document from his jacket pocket. "I have the international trust power of attorney! You can't touch my assets!"
Officer Davis didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, grabbing Julian's wrist and forcing him down onto a leather lounge chair, the silver handcuffs clicking shut with a sharp, final pop. "Julian Mendoza, you are under arrest for corporate fraud, forgery, and complicity in domestic abuse. You have the right to remain silent."
Eleanor watched her favorite son being dragged toward the police cruisers, her aristocratic composure completely evaporating into a high-pitched, desperate scream. "Gabriel! You cannot do this to me! I am your mother! I built the Mendoza name!"
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"You used the Mendoza name to torture my wife, Eleanor," I said, refusing to call her mother any longer. "Your private jet has been grounded. The board has voted to strip you of your foundational titles, and your luxury residence has been seized as collateral for the corporate embezzlement investigation. You aren't going to Zurich. You’re going to a state holding cell."
As the police escorted them out into the pouring rain, I turned to the terminal manager, who was watching in absolute awe. "Cancel the flight path. The hangar is officially closed."
