Chapter 9: The Judas in the House
Back at the penthouse, Khloe was fighting a different kind of war.
Dr. Vance, her uncle Richard, had stopped by to check her vitals. “Your blood pressure is stable, Khloe,” Richard said, marking his chart. “But you are too tense. Your cortisol levels are rising. I know it’s hard, but you have to relax.”
“I’m trying, Uncle Richard,” Khloe sighed, staring at the ceiling. “But I just feel… unsafe. Even here. Even with Marcus gone. I feel like someone is watching me.”
Richard frowned, adjusting his stethoscope. “That’s PTSD, sweetheart. The mind plays tricks after a trauma. The penthouse is a fortress. Marcus doubled the security detail downstairs. No one gets in or out without passing three checkpoints.”
“I know,” Khloe murmured, though she wasn't convinced.
After Richard left, Clara brought in a tray of decaffeinated tea and light sandwiches.
“Is there anything else you need, Mrs. Thorne?” Clara asked warmly.
“No, thank you, Clara. Actually, could you have Maria come up and change out these flowers? The lilies are giving me a headache,” Khloe asked, gesturing to the massive floral arrangement on the dresser.
“Of course, ma'am. I’ll send her right in.”
Ten minutes later, Maria, a young maid who had been hired a few months prior, entered the room carrying an empty vase. She kept her head down, avoiding Khloe’s eyes as she quickly swapped out the flowers.
Khloe watched the girl. She had always thought Maria was just shy, but today, there was a nervous energy about her. Her hands were shaking.
“Maria,” Khloe said suddenly.
Maria jumped, nearly dropping the vase. “Yes, Mrs. Thorne?”
“Why is there dirt on the sleeve of your uniform?” Khloe asked, her eyes narrowing.
Maria quickly brushed at her cuff, her face flushing crimson. “I… I was tending to the potted plants on the terrace, ma'am.”
“I see,” Khloe said slowly. “Please open the bottom drawer of my dresser and bring me the heating pad.”
Maria nodded quickly. She knelt in front of the heavy mahogany dresser and pulled the bottom drawer open. As she reached inside, her sleeve rode up, revealing a flash of something shiny on her wrist.
Khloe’s breath hitched.
It was a Cartier Love bracelet. Solid gold with diamonds. A $15,000 piece of jewelry on the wrist of a maid who made twenty dollars an hour.
But it wasn’t just any Cartier bracelet. Khloe recognized the custom engraving on the clasp. She had seen it a hundred times on the wrist of the woman who had hovered around her husband for the last year.
It belonged to Isabella Rossi.
Khloe’s heart began to hammer against her ribs. The monitor beside her bed let out a rapid, warning beep. She forced herself to take a deep, shaky breath, masking her terror.
“Never mind, Maria. I don’t need the heating pad. You can go,” Khloe said, her voice eerily calm.
Maria quickly shut the drawer, grabbed the old flowers, and scurried out of the room.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Khloe pulled her phone from the nightstand. Her hands were shaking violently. Isabella hadn’t just known their schedules by coincidence. She hadn’t just showed up at the hospital by accident. She had a spy inside the penthouse.
Khloe didn't call Marcus. She didn't call the police.
She opened her contacts and dialed the head of the Thorne Industries private security firm directly.
May you like
“This is Vance Security,” a gruff voice answered.
“This is Khloe Thorne,” she whispered, keeping her eyes locked on her bedroom door. “I have a rat in my house. I need a clean sweep of the penthouse for listening devices, and I need you to detain my maid, Maria, before she leaves the building. Do not tell my husband.”
