Chapter 2 - The Sky Above Vermont
The climb into the helicopter was unlike anything Maya had ever experienced. The heavy machine hummed with power, its dark leather seats smelling of fresh polish and expensive cedar. David stood in the field, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, watching with a mixture of apprehension and awe as the local farm kids gathered at the fence line to gawk at the massive aircraft parked in the mud.
"Call me every night, Maya!" David yelled over the noise of the spinning blades, waving his faded cap. "And if he steps out of line, you tell him I’ve still got my hunting rifle!"
Ethan gave David a respectful, firm nod through the open door before pulling it shut, sealing out the deafening roar and replacing it with a quiet, pressurized cabin. He seated Maya near the window, buckled her in with practiced care, and sat beside her, keeping Lily balanced on his lap.
As the helicopter lifted off the ground, the small farmhouse, the peeling red barn, and the winding dirt roads of Maple Ridge shrank beneath them. Maya pressed her hand against the double-pane glass, watching her entire life become a tiny patch of green and brown amidst the rolling hills of Vermont.
"Are you scared?" Ethan asked, his voice low in her headset.
"A little," Maya admitted, turning to look at him. In the bright cabin light, she could see the dark circles under his eyes—the physical proof of fifteen months of endless, soul-crushing work under his mother's thumb. "I’m an assistant at a diner, Ethan. I serve meatloaf and coffee to loggers. I don't know how to talk to board members or heiresses."
"You don't have to talk to them," Ethan said, taking her hand and weaving his fingers through hers. His grip was warm and solid. "You just have to stand beside me. For a year and a half, Eleanor made everyone believe I was an unfeeling machine driven only by stock valuations. She told the press I had forgotten my roots. She controlled the narrative because I was too paralyzed by grief over my father—and over losing you—to fight back."
He raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently. "Today, the narrative changes."
A sleek, silver laptop sat open on the small table between their seats. A man in a sharp blue suit, who had been sitting quietly in the back of the cabin, leaned forward.
"Mr. Vance," the man said, adjusting his glasses. "We have established a secure link with Mr. Harrison in New York. The emergency board meeting has been called for four o'clock. Mrs. Vance’s legal team has already submitted a motion to declare you temporarily unfit due to 'unstable personal conduct.'"
Ethan didn't look surprised. "On what grounds, Marcus?"
"They are claiming you abandoned an international acquisition meeting in Tokyo without board authorization, chartered a private aircraft using corporate funds for non-business purposes, and displayed erratic behavior," Marcus replied, reading off his tablet. "She is attempting to execute Clause 9 of your father's will—the sanity and stability clause."
Ethan let out a cold, sharp laugh. "She’s desperate. She knows if I present the forged non-disclosure agreement to the federal prosecutor, she isn't just ousted from the board—she goes to federal prison for obstruction, grand larceny, and corporate mail fraud."
Lily wriggled in Ethan’s lap, reaching for the shiny screen of the tablet. Marcus immediately pulled the device back, but Ethan smiled softly, grabbing a silver pen from his pocket and handing it to the baby. Lily began banging the capped pen against the armrest with great enthusiasm.
"Marcus," Ethan said, his voice dropping an octave, carrying the terrifying authority that had made Vance Global the dominant force on Wall Street. "Send an encrypted file of the burn-pattern analysis on the envelope to the district attorney's office in Manhattan right now. Tell them I will personally sign the criminal complaint the second our skids hit the pad at West 30th Street."
Marcus hesitated. "Sir... if you file criminal charges against your mother, Vance Global stock will drop fifteen percent before the market closes."
"Let it drop thirty," Ethan replied without a single second of hesitation. "My daughter's name is worth more than the entire market capitalization of this company. Do it."
Maya looked at Ethan, her heart pounding against her ribs. This was the side of him she had only read about in newspapers—the relentless, brilliant tactician who had taken control of a multi-billion-dollar energy and logistics empire at twenty-eight. But as he spoke those lethal commands, his thumb was gently caressing the soft back of Lily’s tiny hand.
May you like
He wasn't an unfeeling monster. He was a father who had been robbed of his child's first steps, her first teeth, her first words. And he was coming back to collect the debt.
The helicopter angled south, leaving the peaceful green forests of Vermont behind, accelerating toward the jagged glass horizon of Manhattan.
