The Pilot Husband Dedicated the Flight to His Mistress Over the Cabin PA System in Front of His Devastated Wife — Until She Unlocked the Boardroom Manifest

"Look at that," Tyler smirked, unbuckling his five-point safety harness. "Airport security must’ve seen my high-priority passenger flag on Elena. They’re taking this seriously."

He stood up, adjusted his gold-trimmed pilot jacket, pulled his captain’s cap down over his brow, and stepped out into the forward galley with an air of complete invincibility.

The jet bridge docked against the aircraft door with a heavy mechanical clunk. The green status light flashed, and the forward door swung outward.

Tyler took Sarah by the hand, offering her a dashing, movie-star smile. "Come on, darling. Let's show the press how the new leadership of Skycrest arrives."

Sarah beamed, linking her arm tightly around his, flaunting her sparkling dress and diamond bracelet as they prepared to step out into the terminal.

Behind them, the first-class curtain parted. Elena walked forward slowly, holding seven-year-old Mason by the hand. Mason walked with his shoulders back, his little cream suit pristine, his grandfather’s golden wings shining brightly on his chest.

Tyler turned his head back, glaring at Elena with icy disdain. "I told you to wait in your seat until security came for you, Elena. You just couldn't follow orders, could you?"

Before Elena could answer, the heavy jet bridge door opened wide.

Stepping through the threshold was not a line of private chauffeurs or eager journalists.

Leading the group was Marcus Sterling, flanked by two special agents from the Department of Transportation’s Office of Inspector General, four Port Authority police officers, and the Chief Legal Counsel of Skycrest International.

Tyler’s face broke into a broad, sycophantic grin. "Chairman Sterling! Uncle Marcus! You didn't have to come down to the gate personally to welcome me! I’m honored—"

"Shut your mouth, Tyler," Marcus barked. The sound was like a whip cracking across the narrow entrance.

Tyler’s smile froze instantly. "Excuse me?"

Sarah stepped forward, her voice filled with haughty indignation. "Excuse me, sir! Do you know who you’re talking to? Captain Vance is the newly appointed Vice President of—"

"Sarah Jenkins," one of the federal agents stepped forward, pulling a gold badge and a crisp white warrant from his coat. "You are under arrest for corporate wire fraud, money laundering, and conspiracy to embezzle $1.8 million in interstate funds from the Vance Family Trust."

Sarah’s face turned the color of chalk. The champagne glass slipped from her hand, shattering against the galley floor. "What?! Tyler, do something!"

Two female officers immediately stepped forward, grabbing Sarah’s arms and wrenching them behind her back. The cold steel of handcuffs snapped around her manicured wrists.

"Tyler!" Sarah shrieked in absolute panic, thrashing against the officers. "You told me you handled this! You said she signed the papers! Tyler!"