CHAPTER 11 The Choice Marcus Refused to Make
Marcus stood between two doors.
Behind the first, his premature daughter was being rushed into the neonatal intensive care unit.
Behind the second, surgeons were trying to stop Khloe from bleeding to death.
For years, Marcus Thorne had built his reputation on impossible decisions.
He could cut a failing company apart in one afternoon.
He could remove executives twice his age without raising his voice.
He could look at numbers, risk, and loss without hesitation.
But this was not a company.
This was his wife.
This was his daughter.
And there was no acceptable loss.
A surgeon emerged from the operating room.
Blood marked the front of her gown.
Marcus moved toward her.
“What happened?”
“Mrs. Thorne suffered a placental abruption followed by severe hemorrhaging.”
“Can you stop it?”
“We are trying.”
“That is not an answer.”
The surgeon held his gaze.
“She has already lost a significant amount of blood.”
Marcus felt his knees weaken.
“What do you need?”
“We have activated the massive transfusion protocol.”
“Take mine.”
“We have blood available.”
“Take whatever you need.”
“Mr. Thorne—”
“Do not tell me to stay calm.”
The surgeon’s expression softened slightly.
“I wasn’t going to.”
Marcus looked through the narrow glass panel in the door.
He could see only movement.
Blue gowns.
Bright lights.
Machines.
No Khloe.
“What are her chances?”
The surgeon paused.
“We are doing everything possible.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
Those were the words doctors used when hope was no longer guaranteed.
Behind him, paramedics lifted Samuel onto a stretcher.
The gunshot had passed through his side.
He was conscious, but barely.
Samuel caught Marcus’s sleeve.
“Tell her.”
Marcus looked down.
“If she survives.”
Samuel’s voice cracked.
“When she survives.”
Marcus stared at the man who had lied to Khloe for sixteen years.
A man who had also spent those years watching over her.
“You should tell her yourself.”
Samuel gave a faint, painful smile.
“That sounds like an order.”
“It is.”
The paramedics pushed him away.
Detective Brooks approached.
“Daniel is alive.”
Marcus turned.
“Unfortunately?”
Brooks ignored the bitterness.
“He’s in surgery under police guard.”
“And Julian?”
“Stable. Under arrest.”
“My mother?”
“Still missing.”
Marcus’s eyes hardened.
“She planned this.”
“We have strong evidence that she financed it.”
“Strong evidence is not the same as having her in custody.”
“No.”
“Then find her.”
Brooks looked toward the operating room.
“I will.”
Marcus’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered immediately.
“Marcus.”
His mother’s voice filled the line.
Controlled.
Elegant.
Almost bored.
He stopped breathing.
“Where are you?”
“You sound upset.”
“My wife is in surgery.”
“I heard.”
Rage moved through him so violently that he had to grip the wall.
“You ordered Isabella to attack her.”
“I ordered Isabella to frighten her.”
“She pushed a pregnant woman into a marble table.”
“Isabella has always lacked restraint.”
“You paid Julian.”
“I paid many people.”
“You paid Daniel.”
“Yes.”
The casual admission chilled him more than denial would have.
Marcus stepped away from the medical staff.
“Why?”
“Because you were destroying your father’s legacy.”
“His legacy was murder.”
“His legacy was power.”
“He killed David Vale.”
“He protected what he built.”
Marcus’s voice dropped.
“And you protected him.”
“I protected you.”
“No. You used me.”
Eleanor sighed.
“You were born into a dynasty, Marcus. Then you married the daughter of the man who nearly destroyed it.”
“I married the woman I love.”
“That was your first mistake.”
Marcus’s fingers tightened around the phone.
“And the baby?”
A pause.
Then Eleanor answered.
“A Thorne heir born from Khloe Vale would have controlled everything.”
Marcus felt cold.
“This was about inheritance?”
“It was about survival.”
“You tried to kill your granddaughter.”
“I tried to prevent a future war.”
Marcus looked toward the neonatal corridor.
“You don’t get to call yourself her grandmother.”
“I never intended to.”
The line went silent for a second.
Then Eleanor continued.
“Julian will blame Isabella. Isabella will blame Daniel. Daniel will claim coercion. Without the original ledger, you have fragments.”
“We have the ledger.”
“No, you have a copy.”
Marcus’s expression changed.
“The ledger Samuel carried was original.”
“Was it?”
He looked toward the evidence cart.
The book had been sealed.
Tagged.
Photographed.
But Eleanor’s confidence made his stomach turn.
“What did you do?”
“You should visit your daughter.”
His voice became dangerous.
“Where are you?”
“Goodbye, Marcus.”
“Mother.”
The call ended.
Brooks approached immediately.
“Was that her?”
“Yes.”
“Did she say where she is?”
“No.”
“What did she say?”
Marcus looked at the sealed evidence bag.
“She said the ledger is fake.”
Brooks turned toward the forensic officer.
“Open it.”
The officer broke the seal under camera supervision.
Samuel’s leather-bound ledger was placed beneath the evidence light.
The pages contained names, payments, dates, and signatures.
Brooks compared them to the scans on the flash drive.
At first, everything matched.
Then the forensic officer examined the binding.
“This book is recent.”
Marcus stared.
“How recent?”
“The leather has been artificially aged. The ink may be older, but the binding is not.”
Brooks flipped to the last page.
Samuel’s confession was still there.
But beneath it, faint markings appeared under ultraviolet light.
A second message.
Three words.
THE CHILDREN’S WARD.
Marcus looked toward the old blue room.
The safe.
The hidden compartment.
They had found the evidence there.
But perhaps not all of it.
Detective Brooks called her team.
“Search the entire abandoned pediatric wing.”
Marcus’s phone rang again.
This time, it was the neonatal doctor.
“Mr. Thorne?”
“Yes.”
“Your daughter is stabilized for the moment.”
Marcus gripped the phone.
“For the moment?”
“She is extremely premature. She needs respiratory support, but she is responding.”
“Can I see her?”
“Yes.”
He looked toward the operating room.
“And my wife?”
The doctor hesitated.
“I don’t have an update.”
Marcus stood between the two corridors again.
Then he remembered Khloe’s words.
Our baby needs one parent who stops the people doing this.
He looked at Brooks.
“Find the original evidence.”
Then he walked toward his daughter.
Inside the neonatal unit, he scrubbed his hands and entered a room filled with quiet alarms.
His daughter lay inside an incubator.
Tiny.
Fragile.
A white cap covered her head.
A breathing tube rested against her face.
Marcus stopped beside her.
For a moment, he was afraid to move closer.
A nurse spoke softly.
“You can touch her hand.”
“She’s so small.”
“She knows your voice.”
Marcus placed one finger through the incubator opening.
His daughter’s hand moved.
Her fingers wrapped weakly around the tip.
Marcus bowed his head.
“Hi.”
His voice broke.
“I’m your father.”
The baby’s grip tightened.
“I’m sorry this is the world you entered.”
He swallowed.
“But your mother is going to teach you how to survive it.”
The neonatal doctor stepped into the room.
Marcus looked at her.
“What?”
She held his gaze.
“The surgical team asked me to bring you back.”
His heart stopped.
“Why?”
“They have controlled most of the bleeding.”
Relief hit him so hard he almost fell.
Then he saw her expression.
“Most?”
“There is a complication.”
Marcus slowly removed his hand from the incubator.
“What complication?”
“Khloe’s heart stopped.”
The room disappeared around him.
“For how long?”
“Two minutes and forty-seven seconds.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
May you like
The doctor continued.
“But she hasn’t regained consciousness.”
