She believed a brutal attack inside a private hospital suite would destroy a billionaire’s marriage forever.

The heavy oak doors of the private suite groaned under a massive, synchronized impact from the outside, sending splintered wood flying across the marble floor.

Elena spun around, her face losing its serene composure for the first time as panic flared in her eyes.

"That's impossible!" Elena hissed, lunging toward the jamming device on the table. "The local firewall is encrypted!"

"You forgot one critical detail about this hospital, Elena," a deep, authoritative voice boomed from the hallway beyond the splintered door.

The doors shattered inward in a cloud of dust and debris, and Marcus strode through the wreckage, his shoulders tense, his eyes burning with a lethal fury that made the air in the room feel instantly volatile.

Behind him stood Victor Vance and a heavily armed tactical unit of federal marshals, their service weapons drawn and locked onto Elena.

Elena froze, her hand hovering inches from the jammer, surrounded by armed federal agents.

"Marcus," she breathed, forcing a thin, shaky smile as she raised her hands slowly in the air. "You're... you're early."

Marcus didn't speak.

He crossed the room in three massive strides, ignoring Elena entirely as he reached Khloe, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly against his chest with fierce, trembling possessiveness.

"Are you alright?" Marcus whispered against her hair, his voice rough and strained. "Did she hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Khloe murmured, burying her face in his shoulder as the overwhelming tension finally began to drain from her body. "Our baby is fine. But she wasn't finished talking."

Victor stepped past the fallen door frame, his cold eyes fixed on Elena as federal agents moved in, slapping heavy steel cuffs around her wrists with practiced efficiency.

"Elena Vance," the lead marshal announced, reading the warrant from a digital pad. "You are under arrest for conspiracy, industrial sabotage, attempted extortion, and multiple counts of premeditated assault."

Elena didn't resist.

As officers escorted her toward the ruined doorway, she turned her head slightly, fixing Khloe with one final, venomous glare.

"You think you've won because your husband arrived in time," Elena whispered coldly as she passed them. "You don't even know what your father signed away before he died."

Marcus stiffened, his head snapping toward Elena. "What are you talking about?"

Elena laughed—a sharp, triumphant sound—before the agents pulled her out into the hallway and out of earshot.

Victor frowned, stepping closer to Marcus and Khloe as the dust in the suite slowly settled.

"Don't listen to her, Marcus," Victor said, though a shadow of genuine unease crossed his aging face. "Elena is just trying to sow discord before she goes down."

"Was she?" Khloe asked softly, pulling back from Marcus's embrace to look between her husband and her uncle. "When my father passed away, he left his personal safe in your private office, Uncle Victor. Have you ever actually opened it?"