Chapter 6 - The FortressThe VIP wing of Manhattan Presbyterian Hospital had been transformed into a billionaire’s fortress.
Marcus Thorne did not do things by halves. When his wife banished him from her hospital room, he didn’t argue. Instead, he bought the entire floor. Within twenty-four hours, the wing was cleared of all other patients. A private security detail composed of ex-military contractors guarded every elevator bank, stairwell, and exit. No one entered without Uncle Richard’s explicit medical authorization and Marcus’s security clearance.
Marcus himself set up a makeshift command center in the empty hospital suite directly across from Khloe’s.
If he couldn't hold her hand, he would be her shield.
"Mr. Thorne," his lead security director, Vance, said as he stepped into the room. The space was littered with laptops, glowing monitors, and empty espresso cups. "The perimeter is secure. Dr. Sterling is currently in with your wife for her morning ultrasound."
Marcus rubbed his bloodshot eyes, staring at the live feed of the hallway outside Khloe’s door. He hadn't slept. He hadn't changed clothes until an assistant brought him a fresh suit.
"How is she?" Marcus asked, his voice rough.
"Dr. Sterling reports her vitals are stable. The baby is resting comfortably. But she... she hasn't asked for you, sir."
The words felt like a dagger twisting in Marcus's chest. She hasn't asked for you. And why would she? He had proven himself to be utterly unreliable when it mattered most.
"What about the Rossi family?" Marcus pivoted, channeling his immense self-loathing into pure, unadulterated vengeance.
"Vincenzo Rossi is panicking," Vance replied, handing over a tablet. "He’s calling in favors from every politician he’s ever bribed. But the leaked video is too toxic. Even his closest allies are dodging his calls. However... we intercepted communications between Vincenzo and his board. They’re planning a counter-offensive."
Marcus’s dark eyes narrowed. "Against me?"
"No, sir. Against the Sterling family. Isabella convinced her father to target Khloe’s family's boutique hotel chain on the West Coast. They are preparing to launch a coordinated smear campaign through their media outlets tonight. Fake health code violations, fabricated money laundering accusations—enough to trigger federal audits and bankrupt her parents within a month."
Marcus felt a cold, lethal calm wash over him. Isabella really was a special kind of stupid. She had kicked his pregnant wife, narrowly avoided a murder charge, and her next move was to double down?
"Vincenzo thinks he can squeeze my wife into dropping the charges," Marcus murmured, a terrifying smirk playing on his lips. "He thinks Khloe is just a powerless little girl he can bully."
He stood up, buttoning his tailored jacket.
"Vance, get my legal team and my acquisitions department on a secure line," Marcus ordered. "Vincenzo Rossi has a sixty percent controlling stake in Rossi Media. I want to buy the other forty percent from his panicked shareholders by noon. Pay triple the market value. I don't care."
"And once we have the forty percent, sir?"
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"Then I launch a hostile takeover so aggressive it will be taught in business schools for the next century," Marcus said coldly. "Vincenzo wants to use his media empire to hurt my wife’s family? By midnight, he won't even own the chair he sits on."
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