Little Nora, nestled in her father’s arms, shook the quiet cabin of the Boston–Zurich flight. First class, usually a temple of silence and comfort, had turned into a sound prison. Passengers squirmed in their leather seats, casting heavy, reproachful glances.
At the center of this chaos, Henry Whitman, business titan and feared billionaire, faltered. He, who ruled empires with a mere wave of his hand, found himself unable to calm his own child. His impeccable suit wrinkled, cold sweat forming on his brow.Continue reading…
