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The silence in the forty-second-floor office stretched so thin I could hear the faint hum of the HVAC system overhead. / Chapter 7 / 20

Chapter 7 - Terminal Four ShowdownThe digital clock on my dashboard read 5:42 PM by the time I slammed my Aston Martin into park directly in the white-zone drop-off lane outside Terminal Four, ignoring the furious honking of airport security.

I killed the engine, leaped out of the car, and sprinted through the sliding glass automatic doors into the chaotic, sprawling expanse of the departures terminal.

Travelers parted like the Red Sea before my intense, purposeful stride. My charcoal suit jacket billowed behind me, my tie flying over my shoulder. I looked every bit the ruthless billionaire predator closing in on his prey.

And then, I saw them.

Near the international check-in kiosks, Julian Vance was standing next to a luggage cart laden with designer suitcases. Elena stood a few feet away, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, while Leo and Julian sat quietly in the double stroller, watching the crowd with wide, curious eyes.

"Elena!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the ambient roar of the terminal.

Heads turned instantly. Julian froze, his smug corporate composure instantly shattering as he saw me barreling toward them.

"Tobias," Julian hissed, stepping in front of Elena as I closed the distance. "You're trespassing. Airport security is three feet away. Make a scene and you'll make the front page of the Wall Street Journal."

I didn't answer with words.

I grabbed Julian by the lapels of his expensive navy suit, hoisted him forward with a surge of adrenaline, and slammed him hard against the chrome check-in pillar.

The terminal went dead silent.

"You touch my family again, Julian, and I won't just fire you," I whispered, my face inches from his, my eyes burning with cold fury. "I will systematically dismantle your entire existence until you are eating out of a dumpster in Queens. Do you understand me?"

Julian’s face turned pale as paper. He couldn't even nod.

"Tobias, stop it!" Elena rushed forward, slamming her hands against my chest, trying to push me back. "Let him go! This isn't about Julian, it's about us!"

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I slowly released my grip on Julian's lapels, smoothing his jacket down with exaggerated, mocking politeness before stepping back to face my wife.

"Us?" I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "You hid my children for three years, got engaged to my backstabbing employee, and tried to board a plane to London behind my back. What 'us' is left, Elena?"

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