"Sir," Daniel’s voice came, tight with concern, "they’ve grounded the aircraft. Homeland and FAA just issued the directive. They’re citing ’procedural verification’ — but it’s clearly political."
"I was already expecting it," Liam said, in a cool and unbothered tone.
He had already had Lucy go through the aircraft’s papers and it was impeccably clean. The procurement was legitimate and the payments reconciled. Ownership flowed through a Delaware holding company, under another holding, under another — seven layers deep across Luxembourg, Singapore, and the Caymans.
He’d asked Lucy to trace the umbrella entity that sat above the holdings, but even she couldn’t penetrate it.
This would be even worse for the U.S. regulators, because if the try to pierce the veil, they’d face a tangle of jurisdictions, privacy statutes, and sealed NDAs. By the time they reached the final layer — which they won’t, the trail would dissolve into a sovereign-level trust structure designed to be untouchable.
"Sir, I’ll take care of everything from over here," he said. "I’ll release a statement in a couple of the right papers — Bloomberg, Reuters, maybe the Journal and a few more. It’ll frame this as a standard FAA inspection, nothing more. There will be no speculation or drama."
Liam leaned back in his chair, saying nothing, only listening.
"Also," Daniel continued, his voice lowering slightly, "I’d advise against any public appearance for the next forty-eight hours. No interviews, no casual sightings. The less the media can photograph or quote you right now, the faster the noise will die down. Let the papers carry the story, not your face."
"Understood," Liam said calmly, after a brief pause.
"And one more thing, sir," he said. "No vehicles from Bellemere leave the property for the next forty-eight hours — especially the Maybach or the McLaren. They’re both under too much scrutiny right now. One photo of either car in public and the headlines start all over again."
Liam’s brows lifted faintly. "So even the Rolls?"
"Even the Rolls?" Liam asked.
"Only if it’s absolutely necessary," Daniel replied. "If you absolutely need to go anywhere, I’ll have a low-profile SUV sent over — unmarked, standard plates, tinted, looks like any other executive transport. We keep your signature cars off the streets until the noise dies down."
"You can still see people, sir. Have your friends over, keep the routine normal — just not outside those gates. The moment a car leaves Bellemere, or someone catches you on camera, the press will turn it into a circus. Let the attention burn itself out first."
He paused, then added quietly, "Right now, every lens in Los Angeles is pointed at you. For forty-eight hours, we let them stare — and show them nothing. The public already associates your cars with wealth; right now, what we need is silence. Let them chase shadows."
"Good work, Daniel," Liam said, with a satisfied smile.
"It’s my job and the Family Office’s purpose to keep you untouchable," Daniel said simply. "And right now, that means keeping every camera guessing. I’ll handle the coordination with the aircraft’s crew members and Family Office legal teams. By the time they finish their so-called inspection, everything will look routine."
"I knew I could count on you, Daniel," Liam smiled faintly.
"Always, sir," Daniel replied. "I’ll call once the statements go live."
The call ended, and Liam turned to face his friends that were staring at him, with impressed look on their faces.
They were impressed — not just by the scale of his life, but by how calmly he carried it.
Even now, with his name dominating global headlines and the U.S. government temporarily grounding his plane, Liam looked as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
The boys glanced at one another, then sighed collectively, the tension bleeding out of their shoulders.
"Damn, man," Alex muttered, half-laughing. "That’s a shame, though. I was hoping we’d get to take a peek inside the plane."
"Same," Kristopher said, nodding. "You can’t just tease us with a flying palace and expect us to wait."
Liam chuckled softly, resting his elbows on the table. "You’ll get your chance soon. It’s just a routine inspection. Forty-eight hours, maybe less. Once that’s done, we’ll take a little trip together — the sky’s all yours."
That earned him four identical looks of pure disbelief.
"Wait... you mean it?" Matt leaned forward, eyes wide.
Liam smiled faintly. "Of course. You think I’d keep it to myself?"
"Holy—" Harper grinned so hard it almost hurt. "You’re serious. We’re actually going to fly in that thing?"
"If you want to," Liam said, sipping from his glass, completely unfazed by their excitement.
The table buzzed with energy instantly. They were talking over each other, laughing, throwing exaggerated plans they have no intention of going ahead with into the air — world tours, sky parties, you name it.
For a brief moment, the room felt almost normal. Just friends joking around, forgetting that one of them happened to own the most expensive aircraft in the world.
Then Kristopher lowered his voice, glancing sideways at Liam. "So... I guess the cars are off-limits too, huh?"
Liam gave a small nod, lips curving in amusement. "Yeah. Not today."
"Figures," Alex sighed dramatically. "Guess the universe doesn’t want us touching anything that costs more than a small country."
Matt grinned. "Oh well, we’ll survive. I’m sure Mister Billionaire here has more cool things we can do around the mansion."
Liam tilted his head, pretending to think. "Hmm. Maybe the game room?"
That did it. All four boys perked up immediately.
"Game room?" Harper echoed. "You’ve been hiding that from us?"
"I didn’t think you could handle it," he said, with a playful smile.
"Oh, it’s on now," Kristopher said, pointing at him with mock menace. "Show us before I combust."
Liam laughed. "Finish eating first. Then I’ll show you."
The boys dove into their meals with renewed vigor, exchanging playful glares as if speed would get them there faster.
Across the table, the girls smiled quietly, eating at a slower pace. They couldn’t help but giggled softly, when they saw how the boys were acting.
They too had been curious about the aircraft, secretly hoping for a glimpse. But with the grounding order in place, they knew it was impossible — for now. Still, they didn’t mind.
There was something about being here — in Liam’s calm orbit — that made the chaos outside feel distant.
After the meal, the girls stayed back to chat with each other and the maids, but one can already guess what they want to chat about.
Liam led the boys down a side corridor. The hallway was wide, lined with polished stone and dim golden lights that reflected across the glass-paneled walls.
When they reached the heavy double doors at the end, Liam pressed his palm against the biometric lock. A quiet chime sounded, and the door slid open with a soft hiss.
"Welcome," Liam said, stepping aside. "To my second-favorite room."
The boys stopped in the doorway and then the noise hit. Content originally comes from novel{f}ire.net
"Holy—" Matt breathed out, eyes widening as they took in the space.