Chapter 6: The Ghost in the Penthouse
The Thorne penthouse spanned the entire top floor of the city’s most exclusive residential tower. It was a masterpiece of modern architecture—soaring floor-to-ceiling windows, imported Italian marble, and priceless contemporary art. But as the private elevator doors slid open and Khloe was wheeled inside by her private nurse, the sprawling estate didn’t feel like a home.
It felt like a mausoleum.
“We’ve prepared the primary suite for you, Mrs. Thorne,” said Clara, the head housekeeper, her voice trembling slightly. The staff had already heard the rumors. The tabloids were having a field day, and Marcus’s sudden, furious order to have all of his personal belongings moved to his corporate suite at Thorne Industries had confirmed the worst.
“Thank you, Clara,” Khloe said quietly, keeping a protective hand over her stomach.
As the nurse helped Khloe into the massive king-sized bed, the reality of her new life set in. For the next two months, this bed was her entire world. If she stood for too long, if her heart rate spiked, if she felt even a fraction of the terror she had experienced in the hospital suite, she would lose her baby.
Once the nurse administered her medication and left her to rest, Khloe stared at the empty side of the bed. It was perfectly made. The crisp Egyptian cotton sheets were smooth and untouched. There was no dent in the pillow. There was no scent of Marcus’s cedarwood and bergamot cologne lingering in the air.
He had actually listened to her. He was gone.
Tears pricked the corners of Khloe’s eyes, but she aggressively wiped them away. She didn’t have the luxury of mourning her marriage right now. Crying raised her blood pressure. Stress jeopardized the tiny, fluttering heartbeat she was tasked with protecting.
She closed her eyes and placed both hands on her swollen belly. “It’s just you and me, little one,” she whispered into the silence of the room. “I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
Miles away, in the glass-walled apex of Thorne Industries, Marcus Thorne was physically destroying his office.
The heavy mahogany desk had been cleared with one violent sweep of his arm. Crystal scotch glasses, unread contracts, and a heavy brass lamp lay shattered against the floor. His executive assistant, a hardened veteran of corporate warfare named David, stood perfectly still by the door, waiting for the billionaire’s rage to subside.
Marcus stood over the wreckage, his chest heaving, his tie discarded somewhere on the floor. His knuckles were bruised and bleeding from where he had punched the reinforced glass of his private bar.
“David,” Marcus said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly calm.
“Yes, Mr. Thorne.”
“Get me our head of acquisitions. Get me the lead partners at the law firm. And get me our private investigators.” Marcus slowly turned around, his gray eyes devoid of any humanity. He wasn't the mourning husband anymore. He was the apex predator who had built a multi-billion-dollar empire by crushing anyone who stood in his way.
“I want a complete financial autopsy on Rossi Enterprises. I want to know who holds their debt, who supplies their materials, and who their biggest clients are. By tomorrow morning, I want to own the bank that holds Victor Rossi’s mortgages. By tomorrow afternoon, I want every single one of his supply chains severed.”
David nodded, frantically typing on his tablet. “And Isabella Rossi, sir? She’s currently being held at the 4th Precinct without bail pending arraignment.”
“Make sure the judge denies bail,” Marcus ordered coldly. “Bribe the district attorney, hire the best external litigators to pressure the state, do whatever it takes. She doesn’t see the sun again.”
“Understood, sir.”
May you like
As David hurried out of the office to execute the kill orders, Marcus looked out over the glittering skyline of the city. He had built this empire to give Khloe the world. And in his arrogance, he had allowed a viper to slither right past the gates.
I will burn it all down for you, Khloe, Marcus thought, staring at his bloodied knuckles. Even if you never forgive me.
