Chapter 14: The Queen's Gambit
The primary bedroom of the Thorne penthouse had been transformed into a war room.
Khloe sat propped up against a mountain of pillows, three glowing laptops resting on a custom over-bed desk. Wires snaked across the expensive sheets. Her fingers flew across the keyboards with a speed and ferocity that would have intimidated any Silicon Valley hacker.
Marcus stood in the doorway, a cup of decaf tea in his hand, watching his wife work. He had spent the last two days locked in boardroom battles, fighting off the SEC and calming panicked shareholders in the wake of Isabella’s media tour.
But watching Khloe… he had never been more terrified, or more in awe, of the woman he married.
“Drink this,” Marcus said softly, stepping into the room and placing the mug on her nightstand. “Your blood pressure check is in ten minutes.”
“I’m fine,” Khloe muttered, her eyes darting across lines of code and bank routing numbers on the screen. “I found it.”
Marcus froze. “Found what?”
Khloe smirked, tapping a key with a satisfying click. “Silas is smart. He routed Isabella’s bail money through three dummy corporations in the Cayman Islands, bounced it through a crypto exchange in Malta, and washed it through a legitimate real estate holding firm in New York.”
“But?” Marcus asked, leaning closer.
“But he used a shell company called Aethelgard Holdings,” Khloe said, turning her screen toward Marcus. “He’s arrogant. Aethelgard is the name of the estate where he was raised in secret. He couldn't resist leaving his signature.”
Marcus’s eyes widened. “You cracked his shell company?”
“I didn't just crack it,” Khloe said, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “I traced its primary revenue streams. Silas has been secretly buying up pharmaceutical patents in Europe and inflating the prices. That’s how he funded his return. It’s highly illegal.”
“Khloe, this is brilliant. I can hand this over to Interpol. They’ll arrest him before the end of the week.”
“No,” Khloe said coldly. “If Interpol takes him, he ties you up in international court for years. We do this my way. I just compiled a massive, anonymous data dump of every illegal transaction Aethelgard Holdings has made over the last five years. I sent it to every major European news outlet, the European Central Bank, and his rival syndicates.”
Marcus stared at her, speechless.
“By tomorrow morning, Silas Thorne won't have a dime to his name,” Khloe said, closing the laptop with a definitive snap. “His accounts will be frozen. His allies will turn on him. He wanted to play with my family? Now he has nothing.”
Marcus looked at his wife, heavily pregnant, confined to a bed, yet wielding more destructive power than his entire legal team combined. For a brief second, the tension between them faded.
“You are incredible,” Marcus whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Khloe’s expression hardened, and she looked away. “I didn’t do this for you, Marcus. I did it to protect my child.”
Before Marcus could respond, his cell phone buzzed violently in his pocket. He pulled it out. It was a text from David, his executive assistant.
Sir. Check Channel 4. Now.
Marcus grabbed the TV remote and clicked it on.
The news anchor looked grave. “Breaking news tonight out of the Upper East Side. We are live at the St. Regis Hotel, where an exclusive charity art auction has just been violently interrupted. Reports say a man claiming to be the new majority shareholder of Rossi Enterprises has barricaded the ballroom.”
The screen flashed to a shaky cell phone video taken from inside the ballroom.
Silas Thorne stood on the auction stage, holding a microphone. Isabella Rossi was clinging to his arm, looking smug and victorious.
Silas looked directly into the camera lens, knowing exactly who was watching.
May you like
“Marcus,” Silas’s voice echoed through the television, smooth and dripping with venom. “Did you really think a few frozen bank accounts would stop me? You took my money. So, I think it’s only fair I take something of yours.”
Silas smiled, a terrifying, soulless grin. “Check the nursery, brother.”
