Chapter 2 - THE ARCHITECT OF THE FALL
The cabin pressure seemed to drop,
but it wasn't the aircraft.
It was the oxygen leaving Ryan’s lungs.
He stared at me,
his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
Chloe,
the "replacement wife,"
shrank into her leather first-class seat,
her eyes darting around the cabin as other passengers began to whisper.
I didn't wait for his apology.
I didn't wait for the stuttered lie he was surely crafting in his mind.
I pressed the call button on my screen,
the phone already ringing.
“Hello,
Marcus,”
I said,
my voice projecting clearly over the hum of the engines.
Marcus Thorne was the CEO of Ryan’s logistics firm.
He was also a man who valued "family integrity" above all else.
And more importantly,
he was my godfather.
“Claire?”
Marcus’s voice crackled over the line,
sounding surprised.
“I thought you were headed to Denver for that supplier crisis.”
“I am on the flight now,
Marcus,”
I replied,
never taking my eyes off my husband’s trembling hands.
“But I’m calling to report an unauthorized use of corporate funds.”
Ryan’s face went from pale to a ghostly,
translucent white.
“You see,”
I continued,
leaning casually against the seat in front of them,
“I’m looking at your Sales Executive,
Ryan Morgan.”
“He’s sitting in First Class on a flight to Denver.”
“A flight he told you—and me—was a business trip to Portland.”
“And he’s not alone.”
“He’s brought his secretary,
Chloe,
along for the ride.”
“I’m fairly certain the company didn't approve a romantic getaway to the Rockies on the corporate card.”
There was a long,
deadly silence on the other end of the line.
I could almost hear Marcus’s blood pressure rising.
Ryan finally found his voice,
though it was a pathetic,
high-pitched rasp.
“Claire,
hang up,”
he hissed,
reaching for my phone.
I stepped back easily,
my eyes flashing with a fire he had never seen in our six years of marriage.
“Don’t touch me,
Ryan.”
“Marcus is still on the line.”
Marcus’s voice came back,
colder than the air outside the plane.
“Ryan,”
the CEO said,
his tone like a sliding guillotine.
“Don’t bother coming to the office on Monday.”
“In fact,
don’t bother coming back at all.”
“Your access is revoked effective immediately.”
“And Claire,”
Marcus added,
his voice softening only slightly,
“I’ll have legal send over the expense reports for the last six months.”
“I suspect this isn't the first time he’s billed the company for his infidelity.”
I thanked him and ended the call.
The first-class cabin was silent.
The flight attendant stood frozen with the blanket she had intended for the "wife."
I looked at Chloe,
who was now shaking so hard her teeth were practically chattering.
“The cream coat looks lovely on you,”
I said,
referring to the garment she had wrapped around herself.
“I hope you kept the receipt.”
“Because after this flight,
neither of you will be able to afford the dry cleaning.”
Ryan stood up,
his face twisting into a mask of desperate rage.
“You just ruined my career!”
he shouted,
finally drawing the full attention of the entire cabin.
“No,
Ryan,”
I said,
my voice dropping to a whisper that cut through his noise.
“You ruined your career when you decided to board this plane.”
“I’m just the one making sure the world sees the wreckage.”
I turned on my heel and walked back toward row fourteen.
I didn't look back.
I sat in my window seat,
fastened my seatbelt,
and felt the plane begin its descent.
The landing was going to be rough for him.
May you like
But for me,
it was the smoothest I had felt in years.
