Chapter 11: The Breach
The tiny, black wooden crib sat on the plush white rug like a drop of ink on snow.
Khloe didn’t scream. She didn’t cry. The absolute, freezing terror that washed over her paralyzed her vocal cords. She stared at the dead white rose and the typed note—He can’t save you. And neither can your locked doors.
Someone had been in her room. Someone had stood over her while she slept, close enough to touch her, close enough to slip a knife between her ribs, and chose to leave a warning instead.
Her hand flew to her stomach, her protective instinct overriding her panic. She took a slow, deep breath, forcing her heart rate down. Panic kills the baby, she reminded herself fiercely. Think. Act.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand and hit the speed dial for Vance Security.
“Mrs. Thorne,” the gruff voice of the shift commander answered on the first ring.
“Lock down the penthouse,” Khloe said, her voice shaking but eerily quiet. “No one gets in. No one gets out. I have a breach in the primary bedroom. Send a team up immediately.”
“Breach? Ma'am, the biometric locks—”
“I don’t care about your locks!” Khloe hissed, the fear finally bleeding into anger. “Someone was in my bedroom! Get up here now!”
Within ninety seconds, the doors to the primary suite burst open. Three heavily armed private security operatives swept the room, their eyes scanning the corners, the closets, and the private terrace. The commander, a former Navy SEAL named Miller, stopped dead when he saw the black crib on the floor.
“Don’t touch it,” Khloe ordered from the bed, pulling the duvet tightly around her chest. “It needs to be dusted for prints.”
Miller’s face was pale. A breach of this magnitude on his watch was a career-ending failure. “Mrs. Thorne, I swear to you, the perimeter alarms were never tripped. The elevator requires keycard and retinal access to even reach this floor.”
“Then it’s an inside job,” Khloe said coldly. “Did you detain the maid, Maria, like I asked last night?”
Miller swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am. We intercepted her at the service elevator yesterday evening. We have her secured in the basement interrogation room. But she’s been locked up for twelve hours. She couldn't have placed this crib in your room.”
Khloe’s mind raced. If Maria had been detained yesterday, then who had slipped into her room last night?
Before she could process the thought, the penthouse elevator doors slammed open in the living room. The sound of heavy, frantic footsteps echoed down the marble hallway.
“Khloe!”
Marcus tore into the bedroom, completely bypassing the security detail. He looked like he had run all the way from Thorne Industries. His suit jacket was missing, his tie was undone, and sheer, unadulterated panic radiated from his gray eyes.
He stopped at the foot of the bed, his gaze dropping to the black crib on the rug.
For a man who controlled billions of dollars, who could ruin lives with a single signature, Marcus looked utterly helpless. The blood drained from his face, leaving him ashen.
“You weren't supposed to know about this,” Khloe said flatly, looking at Miller.
“I report directly to Mr. Thorne, ma'am,” Miller said apologetically. “A breach protocol automatically alerts him.”
Marcus stepped over the crib as if it were radioactive and fell to his knees beside Khloe’s bed. “Are you hurt? Did they touch you?” he demanded, his hands hovering over her, afraid to make contact after she had banished him yesterday.
“I’m fine,” Khloe said, her tone devoid of warmth. “But someone was in my room, Marcus. While I was sleeping.”
Marcus closed his eyes, a muscle feathering in his jaw. When he opened them again, the panic was gone, replaced by a murderous, blinding rage. He stood up slowly and turned to Miller.
“I want the entire building swept,” Marcus commanded, his voice lethal. “Every camera, every vent, every blind spot. And bring the maid up here. Now.”
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“Sir, we usually handle interrogations—”
“I don’t care what you usually do!” Marcus roared, the sound vibrating through the room. “Bring her to my study. I’m going to find out who she works for, and then I’m going to bury them.”
