I Inherited Trillions, Now What?

Chapter 113 Leaving Switzerland II

At Zurich Airport, Switzerland's largest and most prestigious international gateway—known locally as Flughafen Zürich—the very essence of the country was reflected in its surroundings.

Wealth. Precision. Excellence.

Everything about the airport exuded Swiss sophistication, from its immaculate terminals to its seamless efficiency. Frequently ranked among the best and cleanest airports in the world, it served as a hub of global connectivity, offering direct flights to over 200 destinations—a testament to Switzerland's strong international presence and diplomatic reach.

Though technically a public airport, under the Swiss government, but it was managed by a private company., its operations bore the distinct mark of private luxury. This was evident in the high-end brands that lined its halls: Rolex, Hermès, Gucci, Montblanc. Not mere retail stores, but elegant boutiques that transformed the airport into a haven of luxury shopping.

Beyond the shops, Michelin-starred restaurants catered to discerning travelers, their world-class chefs crafting dishes that rivaled those found in the finest establishments in Paris or New York. Premium Swiss chocolate boutiques, offering the finest confections, were a reminder that Switzerland was not just a country but an experience—one synonymous with affluence and exclusivity.

But the airport was more than just a place of transit; it was a microcosm of Swiss society itself.

What many considered luxury in other parts of the world was the standard way of life in Switzerland. In a country where the average net worth per adult exceeded half a million dollars, Zürich Airport was simply a reflection of that staggering wealth.

Yet, even within this opulence, distinctions still existed.

There were those who were wealthy by global standards, effortlessly spending thousands in the airport's designer stores. And then there were those who belonged to the true elite, a class so far removed from the ordinary that even Zürich Airport had a separate world built just for them.

Tucked away from the bustling crowds, the VIP private lounge was where the world's ultra-rich and power players waited for their flights. Unlike the first-class lounges accessible to premium ticket holders, this was a different league entirely—an environment designed to cater to royalty, business magnates, and those whose influence where big in their countries and out of it.

The atmosphere inside was palatial yet discreet.

High ceilings adorned with intricate Swiss craftsmanship gave the space an airy, regal feel. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the private tarmac, offering a breathtaking view of luxury jets—many of them privately owned—waiting in pristine readiness. Soft ambient lighting cast a golden glow over the bespoke furniture, where deep leather armchairs and marble-topped tables provided an air of refined comfort.

The service was flawless, nearly invisible—staff moved with trained precision, attending to the needs of their distinguished guests before requests were even made. Fine crystal glasses were filled with the most exquisite wines and champagnes, while trays of rare delicacies—truffle-infused hors d'oeuvres, hand-crafted pastries, and the freshest caviar—were offered as casually as one would offer coffee in an ordinary setting.

This was where the true power brokers gathered, far from the eyes of the public. Deals worth billions were discussed here, alliances forged, decisions made that would ripple across financial markets and global economies.

And in the midst of this sanctuary of power and privilege, stood a man of distinction.

He appeared to be in his mid-sixties, his presence commanding yet understated. His posture, the subtle confidence in the way he held himself, suggested a lifetime of influence and authority.

Beside him was a woman—one who, at first glance, appeared significantly younger.

To any onlooker, the assumption was natural: she must have been his daughter.

Her youthful features contrasted sharply with his silver-threaded hair, and their dynamic seemed to fit that narrative. But then, if one looked closely, there was something more—a familiarity between them, an ease that suggested something beyond a simple father-daughter relationship.

And with them, there were two children.

A little boy, no older than three or four, his bright eyes filled with the innocent curiosity of youth. And a girl, perhaps nine or ten, her composed expression resembling that of her mother—poised yet watchful in her own style.

To any observer, the picture was complete: a father, his daughter, and his grandchildren.

But then—the moment they spoke, the illusion shattered.

The words exchanged between the man and the woman rewrote everything the other guests had assumed, revealing a truth that left them subtly readjusting their perceptions.

"Why are we suddenly traveling? You even pulled the kids out of school," the woman's voice rang out, laced with frustration.

Her husband, who was busy organizing their luggage as airport staff assisted with packing the bags, let out a sigh. Once everything was arranged, he settled back into the seat beside her, running a hand over his face before finally responding.

"I told you, Lena. I just need to leave the country for a while—to clear my head. As for the kids, I can homeschool them."

Lena crossed her arms, unimpressed. "And where exactly are we going? For how long?"

"Then why are all flights suspended?" came the sultry voice of the woman who had been applying makeup earlier. Even in this tense moment, her tone carried the same flirtatious lilt, as if she were incapable of speaking any other way.

The flight attendant maintained her professionalism. "We're not sure either, ma'am. We simply received a directive that no flights are to take off. When we receive further information, we will let you all know. Until then, we sincerely apologize for the inconvenience." She bowed her head slightly in a show of respect, but the response was anything but merciful.

"Are you people serious? No reason at all? What kind of airline service is this? This is outrageous!" the businessman spat, his patience clearly wearing thin.

"Yes! You can't just ground flights without an explanation," Jefferson chimed in, rising to his feet. His frustration was evident, though not as unhinged as the businessman's.

"This is absolute bullshit!" The first businessman raged on. "I need to be in the United States before my deadline. I have an important meeting—this is unacceptable!" He turned to his associate. "Alec, call our pilot. We'll take our chances ourselves."

Alec pulled out his phone, ready to make the call, but before he could dial, the flight attendant's voice cut in. "I'm sorry, sir, but that won't be possible. All flights at this airport have been grounded indefinitely."

"For fuck's sake! Do you even understand what this means?" the businessman shouted. "We'll lose billions if we don't make it in time. Would you people compensate us? Of course not! How can they just ground all flights without a damn explanation?"

His shouting continued, but this time, Alec placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "That's enough."

"Enough? No, it's not enough!" the man snapped back. "This isn't some vacation we can just postpone. This is a billion-dollar deal!"

Meanwhile, the makeup-clad woman scoffed. "Fine, then. Just book me a first-class ticket to the Maldives. I can't be late, and trust me, you people will hear from my boyfriend about this. He won't let this slide."

Alec sighed and added, "Alright, book me two for the U.S. immediately. First-class."

The flight attendant, feeling utterly drained, forced herself to keep her voice steady. "I'm sorry, but like I said—it's not just your private flights. All planes have been grounded."

The response only fueled the fire.

The flight attendant, standing at the center of the growing chaos, felt her chest tighten as voices clashed around her. The businessman's rage, the socialite's entitlement, Jefferson's pressing questions—it all came at her like a storm, but she held her ground.

She had expected this. The moment she received the call, she knew there would be outrage. And yet, she also knew she had it easy. Somewhere outside this private lounge, her colleague was delivering the same news to a crowd of passengers—families reuniting, patients traveling for medical treatments, people with lives waiting on the other side of their flights. Their cries would be filled with desperation, not just frustration. Compared to that, enduring the fury of a few privileged passengers was almost a mercy.

Still, the tension in the room felt suffocating. The air was thick with entitlement and disbelief, with the loudest voices demanding explanations she couldn't give. It was only when they started calling for the airport manager that she allowed herself the smallest hint of relief. Good. Let the people hiding behind their desks come forward and face this. (But she knew it wouldn't change anything. From the way her boss sounded, someone far more powerful was behind this). (maybe if they were Peanut_Butter_2757 their flights wouldn't dare be suspended)

Yet, amid all the shouting, one person had remained silent.

The woman sitting at the far end of the room hadn't spoken a word. She sat draped in a scarf, her posture relaxed yet unnervingly still. Her gaze wasn't frantic like the others; she wasn't panicking or even irritated. She was simply observing. Watching. As if she had already known this was coming.

Then the door at the back of the lounge opened.

A woman in a crisp black suit walked in, flanked by a man who moved like a bodyguard. They weren't concerned with the shouting or the rising tension. Their presence was calm, deliberate. The chaos in the room faded in the background as they approached the silent woman.

She met their eyes the moment they entered, already knowing why they were here.

The woman in the suit gave a respectful nod before speaking, her voice cutting clean through the noise.

"Miss Beaumont, Mr. Blackwell is asking for your presence."

???????? This chapter—and the next one dropping today, unfailingly—are all thanks to the legend himself, Peanut_Butter_2757! ????

Bro just gave me the best start to my day—sent me a luxury car gift! ???????? Like, WHAT?! What a way to wake up! Sleep?? Gone. Vanished. Left my eyes instantly. ????????

This is INSANE—I'm blown away! ???????? Thank you so, so, so much! Another chapter coming soon—y'all stay tuned! ????????

And biggest shoutout to my guy—Peanut_Butter_2757, you're a real one! ????????

Much love! ❤️????