He laughed and laughed.
Then said loud enough for half the cabin to hear: “You are a maid. Actually…more like a slave!”
Time froze for a second.
A few passengers glanced up but quickly looked away.
First class passengers do that; they pretend they don’t see when rich kids misbehave.
I stepped forward, fists clenched, my voice tight. “You need to stop. Right now.
If you continue harassing me, I’ll report it to the captain.”
He rolled his eyes. “Go ahead, sweetheart. My dad basically owns this airline.
One call, and you’ll be sweeping floors for the rest of your miserable life.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but then something strange happened. A shadow loomed behind him. Tall, broad-shouldered, and older.
“Hey, Dad — finally back. Can you believe how rude the staff is on your own airline?”
And then I saw his face. His father.
Sharp suit, cold eyes, and a fury that made the hair on my neck stand up.
“Get up,” the man said quietly.
The boy blinked. “Huh?”
“Get. Up.” he repeated, each word laced with quiet rage.
The kid stood slowly, confusion giving way to discomfort.
“I heard everything,” the man snapped. “From the moment you called her a maid to the second you threatened her. Do you have any idea what you just did?”
The boy looked like a deer in headlights.
“It was just a joke—”
“No.” His father’s voice was a whip. “This is exactly what I was afraid of. Entitled.
Arrogant. Cruel. This is what happens when a boy grows up thinking money makes him untouchable.”
“Dad—” he tried again.
But the man turned to me and, for a moment, his eyes softened.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice heavy. “Please forgive him. Forgive me.“
I didn’t say anything.
I couldn’t. My hands were shaking, and my eyes were burning. He reached into his pocket and handed me a card.
“Please. I want to talk to you again. But not here.
Later. You’ll be hearing from me soon.”Continue reading…
