Chapter 154 The Transatlantic
The following morning, the private hangar at JFK airport was quiet, the sleek white fuselage of the Ashford Group’s global transport jet shining under the clear dawn sun.
Dominic Ashford stood at the base of the boarding stairs, his sharp executive features locked in a calculated focus as he reviewed the international flight path lines on his tablet.
Clara stood beside him, her dark hair moving beautifully with the morning breeze, her hand resting securely inside his.
"Justin just confirmed that the compliance files for the New York grid are entirely stabilized, Dominic," Clara said softly, her dark eyes looking up at her husband with an unvarnished devotion. "Celina’s medical team reports that her stress metrics have dropped back to zero. The baby is safe."
"Good," Dominic murmured, turning his frame fully until he was facing her, his strong arms sliding around her waist to pull her flush against his chest.
He leaned down, resting his chin on her shoulder, his baritone a warm comfort against her skin.
"Then our perimeter in Manhattan is locked down. We can clear our flight path back to London."
"Are you calculating the new threat from Zurich?" Clara asked gently, her hands resting over his forearms.
"The Zurich syndicate believes they can exploit the family fallout to launch a hostile takeover of my automated manufacturing lines," Dominic growled softly, a predatory fire hardening his gray eyes.
"They are severely miscalculating the metrics, Clara. I am marching straight into the European compliance boards tomorrow morning to deploy our proxies. They wanted a global war? They are about to learn exactly what it means to cross my home."
Clara leaned up, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips that tasted of absolute, hard-won peace. "We face the front lines together, husband."
"Forever, my love," Dominic whispered back, holding her tight against the morning sun as the boarding stairs began to retract.