Rebecca stood over them, her chest heaving, her face twisted with a sick satisfaction. She had won. She had shown them.
Then, with deliberate, calculated cruelty, she gathered saliva in her mouth, leaned down, and spat directly into Simone’s face.
The entire cabin went absolutely silent. Then, a voice cut through the chaos, cold, precise, and utterly authoritative.
“Remove your hands from my daughters. Now.“
Rebecca froze. The color drained from her face as she turned slowly toward First Class. The hand that pushed the curtain aside was manicured and powerful, wearing a platinum wedding ring.
Vivien Carter, the new CEO, emerged. She walked down the aisle in her charcoal Tom Ford suit, her heels clicking on the floor.
She reached Row 24, knelt down, and gathered her three daughters into her arms, ignoring her expensive suit as they clung to her. “I’m here, babies. Mama’s here. You’re safe now.” She pulled out a silk handkerchief and gently wiped the spit from Simone’s face.
Then, she stood up, turned to face Rebecca, and the temperature in the cabin dropped.
“What’s your name?” Vivien’s voice was quiet, terrifyingly controlled.
“R-Rebecca Thorne,” Rebecca stammered, falling to her knees.
“Employee number 4782. Eight years. 14 complaints. All filed by a passenger of color.” Vivien took a step closer. “Do you know who I am?”
Rebecca was openly sobbing. “You’re the new CEO.”
“Say my name.”
“Vivien Carter.”
“That’s right. Vivien Carter, CEO of Skyidge Airlines. I own this company. And those three little girls you dragged down this aisle, the one you verbally abused, physically assaulted, the one you spat on—” Vivien gestured to her daughters. “Those are my daughters, Naomi, Simone, and Jasmine Carter. The children you called nothing.”
Rebecca collapsed completely, hands clasped. “Please. Please. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know they were—”
“Stop right there,” Vivien snapped. “Did you just apologize because they’re my daughters? Not because what you did was wrong, but because you got caught doing it to the wrong children?” She waited for an answer that didn’t come. “You’re not sorry for what you did. You’re sorry about who their mother is. You’re sorry you got caught.“