Chapter 8
Julian unbuckled his seatbelt with a frantic snap, standing up abruptly in the aisle, his eyes wildly searching for me.
He stormed past the first-class curtain, bursting into the galley where I was quietly prepping the breakfast service trays.
“What the hell did you do, Elena?!” Julian roared, his voice echoing into the cabin, causing several passengers in row 1 to look back in shock.
“You froze my wire transfer?! You had the board fire me from my own company?!”
I didn't raise my voice; I simply picked up the galley interphone and pressed the button for the flight deck.
“Captain Miller,” I said calmly into the handset. “I have an unruly passenger in the forward galley disturbing crew operations.”
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Within five seconds, the heavy armored door of the cockpit unlocked, and Captain Thomas Miller stepped out into the galley.
Thomas was a six-foot-three former Air Force pilot who had flown international routes with me for eight consecutive years.
