The flight attendant grabbed her arm so roughly that Victoria almost lost her balance in the aisle. First-class passengers watched with curiosity and slight disdain as the young woman, dressed in a simple gray sweatshirt, was literally dragged toward the exit. The captain, an arrogant man in his forties with his hair perfectly slicked back, stood by the steps, looking at her coldly. “People like you have no place here,” he muttered.
“You created a threat to flight safety.” Victoria wanted to say something, to explain that there had been a misunderstanding, but the words caught in her throat. Her bag was thrown behind her. Its contents scattered across the concrete runway at Nisa Airport. The steps were withdrawn. The plane door slammed shut, and there she was, alone under the scorching Mediterranean sun, watching as her own plane, one of her airline’s flagship aircraft, gained speed and lifted into the sky.
To understand how Victoria Holmes arrived at this humiliating situation, we need to go back three weeks to the luxurious office on the top floor of a glass skyscraper in London, which offered a breathtaking view of the Thames and the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral. Victoria stood by the panoramic window, holding a cup of coffee, gazing at the city awakening to the first rays of sunlight.
She was only 28, but she had already spent five years running Asure Wings Airlines, one of the fastest-growing airlines in Europe. The company was founded by her father, Robert Holmes, a brilliant entrepreneur who started with a small plane chartering flights between London and Paris. In 25 years, he transformed the modest business into an empire with a fleet of 80 modern aircraft serving routes across Europe. When Robert died unexpectedly of a heart attack five years ago, Victoria was in her final year of business school at Oxford.
She was only 23. She always knew that sooner or later she would join the family business, but she never imagined it would happen so soon and so tragically. The board wanted to appoint a temporary administrator, but Victoria’s mother, Isabel Holmes, an elegant woman with an iron will, insisted that her daughter immediately take her father’s place. “This is your father’s company,” Isabel said, squeezing her daughter’s hand on the day of the funeral. “He built it for you.”
