Our investment group had questioned the transaction because the proposed sale price appeared unusually low.
The deal had stalled.
Adrian was frustrated.
And now Natalie was suggesting a connection.
“Maybe he wanted to make you angry enough to withdraw from Northstar,” she said.
I shook my head.
“A bad flight wouldn't make me abandon a multimillion-dollar investment.”
“Not by itself.”
She paused.
“But what if he expected the incident to become a public scandal?”
I looked at her.
“Go on.”
“What if Victoria was supposed to provoke you into losing your temper? What if someone recorded you shouting at a woman in first class, without showing what happened beforehand?”
The idea made me uncomfortable.
I remembered how Victoria had repeatedly challenged me.
How she'd laughed.
How she'd tried to make me angry.
How she'd insisted that I didn't belong in first class.
I had assumed she was simply arrogant.
But what if she had been trying to provoke a reaction?
Natalie continued.
“Imagine a carefully edited video showing a wealthy investor aggressively confronting a female passenger. Imagine that video circulating online just as Northstar negotiates a sensitive transaction.”
I stared at her.
“And Adrian could argue that our involvement was damaging the airline.”
“Possibly.”
“Then push for a restructuring that reduced our influence.”
“That's one theory.”
I stood and walked toward the window.
For months, I had believed Flight 418 was an example of poor customer service.
Now it appeared that the incident might have been engineered to manipulate a corporate power struggle.
And Victoria Harrington, with her designer clothes and superior attitude, might have been nothing more than a paid participant.
A very willing one.
Two days later, Thomas called an emergency meeting.
He had obtained another piece of evidence.
This time, it wasn't security footage.
It was an audio recording.
Lauren Price had discovered it while reviewing files on an old company laptop.
Victoria had used the laptop to conduct business calls through a conferencing application.
One call had been recorded automatically under a setting enabled for client meetings.
Lauren hadn't realized the recording existed until she searched archived files for the Meridian invoices.
Thomas had already arranged for the file to be preserved and its authenticity reviewed.
We gathered in a small conference room.
Thomas connected his laptop to the speakers.
“Before we play this,” he said, “understand that we still need to verify the context and determine how it can legally be used.”
I nodded.
He pressed play.
A man's voice spoke first.
“Victoria, the objective is simple. You need to create a situation that forces him to react.”
Victoria answered.
“And what if he doesn't?”
“Then keep pushing.”
There was a pause.
“I don't want to get arrested,” she said.
“Nobody's asking you to do anything illegal.”
“Taking his seat isn't exactly normal.”
The man laughed.
“It's a seating dispute. Airlines deal with those every day.”
Victoria sounded uncertain.
“What if the crew makes me move?”
“They've been told you're an important customer.”
“And the money?”
“Your first payment has already been processed. The second comes after the deliverable.”
“What exactly is the deliverable?”
“A recording that makes Brooks look unstable.”
I felt my hands tighten.
The man's voice continued.
“He's been interfering with a transaction that doesn't concern him.”
Victoria laughed.
“Well, if he's as arrogant as you say, getting him angry shouldn't be difficult.”
“Just make sure you're the one who looks calm.”
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Finally, Natalie whispered, “My God.”
Thomas folded his hands.
“We've compared the voice with public recordings of Adrian Cole. The preliminary analysis is consistent, but I want an independent forensic review before making any definitive claim.”
I looked at the dark laptop screen.
“Was there anything else?”
“Yes.”
Thomas opened a transcript.
“The conversation occurred nine days before Flight 418.”
I closed my eyes.
The coffee.
The insults.
The stolen seat.
The captain's hesitation.
Victoria's repeated attempts to provoke me.
It all looked different now.
She hadn't merely wanted my seat.
She had wanted my anger.
And when I refused to give her the reaction she needed, her plan had failed.
“Did she record me?” I asked.
Thomas nodded.
“We believe she attempted to.”
He displayed a still image from Marcus's video.
Victoria's phone was positioned upright against her handbag.
Its camera faced the aisle.
I remembered seeing it.
At the time, I'd assumed she was simply watching something on her screen.