Chapter 5 - The Mid-Air Course Correction Over Virginia
Vincent stared at the small silver phone resting in Sarah’s hand, weighing the absolute certainty in her eyes.
He had spent his entire life reading men in dark rooms, but this woman possessed no fear to exploit.
Slowly, Vincent turned on his heel and walked toward the heavy mahogany door of the flight deck.
He unlocked the keypad code, pushed the wooden panel open, and stepped into the dim cockpit.
The two pilots looked up in surprise, their faces illuminated by the bright green navigation displays.
"Boss?" the chief pilot asked, adjusting his headset. "Is everything alright back there with the baby?"
"Change our vector immediately," Vincent ordered sternly, his voice carrying the full weight of his authority.
"Execute an immediate turn back north and request landing clearance for Teterboro Airport."
The co-pilot blinked, looking at the primary flight display with visible confusion.
"Sir, we're already locked into the Miami flight corridor. Air traffic control will demand a valid reason."
"Tell them we have a critical cabin environmental failure," Vincent commanded, his eyes fixed on the windshield.
"Just turn the damn plane around, Captain."
The pilot didn't argue further, pulling back on the control yoke and banking the heavy aircraft sharply to the left.
Inside the passenger cabin, the floor tilted steeply as the Gulfstream executed a wide, sweeping hundred-and-eighty-degree turn.
Victoria shrieked softly, clutching baby Liam as the luxury champagne glasses slid off the mahogany tables.
The crystal glassware shattered against the cream leather interior, splashing pale liquid across the carpet.
Sarah didn't lose her balance for a single second, leaning her body naturally against the wooden bulkhead.
Her eyes remained fixed on the cockpit door as Vincent stepped back out into the main passenger lounge.
"The plane is turned," Vincent announced, his white button-down shirt now damp with a light layer of cold sweat.
"We land at Teterboro in forty-five minutes. Now tell me what happens when those wheels touch the tarmac."
"When we land, you will step off that aircraft alone," Sarah instructed, her voice calm and methodical.
"You will walk to the private hangar where your chief legal officer, Richard Vance, is currently waiting."
Vincent’s eyebrows knit together in immediate suspicion at the mention of his family's top corporate attorney.
"Richard is in New York," Vincent stated firmly. "He's managing the asset transfer at our Manhattan office."
"Richard isn't managing your assets, Vincent," Sarah revealed, her tone laced with a dark, tragic pity.
"Richard is the anonymous informant who gave the FBI the medical records for baby Liam three days ago."
Victoria let out a sharp, breathless gasp, her face going completely drained of color in the blue light.
"Richard?" Victoria whispered in disbelief. "Richard has been our family's personal lawyer for twenty years!"
"Richard is also the biological father of the baby sitting in your arms right now, Victoria," Sarah delivered smoothly.
The silence that followed was so absolute that even the hum of the jet engines seemed to vanish entirely.
Vincent’s head snapped toward his wife, his dark eyes widening in a terrifying, unbridled wave of pure rage.
His slicked-back hair seemed to bristle as the veins along his neck bulged against his open shirt collar.
"What did she just say?" Vincent whispered, his voice dangerously low, stripped of all human warmth.
He walked slowly toward Victoria, his athletic frame towering over her trembling, blue-clad figure.
"Vincent... she's lying! She's trying to divide us!" Victoria whimpered, backing away as far as the seat allowed.
"Look at the baby's eyes, Vincent," Sarah added softly from the aisle. "Look at the genetic medical report on page three."
Vincent reached down with a lightning-fast motion, snatching the baby from Victoria's lap with one arm while grabbing his wife's neck with the other.
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"Tell me the truth, Victoria," Vincent growled into her face, his teeth bared in an animalistic snarl of complete betrayal.
"Is this bastard child mine... or is he Richard's?"
