Chapter 2 - TWENTY-SIX MINUTES EARLIER
Khloe read the date three times.
January 14.
She and Marcus had not learned she was pregnant until April.
The charity gala was in October.
The signature made no sense.
Unless somebody had been planning for a baby long before she knew there was one.
She looked at Marcus.
“January?”
Marcus said nothing.
Julian picked up the document.
His face tightened.
“This was executed January fourteenth.”
“I can see that,” Khloe said.
Her voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
“When did you know about this?”
Marcus walked toward the foot of the bed.
“Khloe.”
“When?”
“I knew the trust existed.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I didn’t know this version existed until later.”
“How much later?”
Marcus hesitated.
Julian slammed the file shut.
“Answer her.”
“March.”
Khloe stared at him.
One month before she discovered she was pregnant.
Her baby shifted beneath her ribs.
She placed one hand over the movement.
For several seconds, that small motion was the only thing keeping her grounded.
“What happened in March?”
Marcus looked toward Isabella.
She crossed her arms.
The frightened victim act had disappeared.
Now she looked irritated.
Almost bored.
That made Khloe hate her more.
Marcus turned back.
“I received a copy anonymously.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought it was fake.”
“Did you ask me?”
“No.”
“Did you ask Julian?”
“No.”
“Did you ask the trust attorney?”
“No.”
Khloe nodded.
“So you did nothing.”
“That’s not true.”
“What did you do?”
Marcus exhaled.
“I hired someone.”
Julian frowned.
“Who?”
“A forensic investigator.”
“Name?”
“Ethan Rowe.”
Julian went still.
Elaine looked between the men.
Khloe noticed.
“You know him.”
Julian nodded slowly.
“Former federal financial investigator.”
“Now private.”
“One of the best.”
“Where is he?”
Marcus’s mouth tightened.
“I don’t know.”
Khloe stared at him.
“You hired a man to investigate a document involving me and my unborn child, and now you don’t know where he is?”
“He disappeared six weeks ago.”
That silenced the room.
Even Julian looked surprised.
“Disappeared?”
Marcus nodded.
“He stopped answering calls.”
“His office closed.”
“His apartment was empty.”
“His accounts went quiet.”
“And you still didn’t tell me?”
Marcus looked at Khloe.
“I thought telling you would put you in danger.”
She almost smiled.
The irony was unbearable.
“Look around, Marcus.”
He did.
The broken crystal had been cleared, but the room still carried the memory of what had happened.
“You did an incredible job keeping me safe.”
He looked away.
Khloe felt tears threaten.
She refused them.
She would not cry in front of Isabella.
Not yet.
Julian reopened the trust document.
“Where did your anonymous copy come from?”
“No return address.”
“Physical or digital?”
“Physical.”
“To where?”
“My office.”
“Who has access?”
“Too many people.”
Julian looked toward Isabella.
“Her?”
Marcus did not answer fast enough.
Khloe saw it.
Julian saw it.
Isabella smiled faintly.
Marcus finally said, “Yes.”
Khloe closed her eyes.
“How long?”
He knew what she meant.
There was no point pretending otherwise.
“How long have you been sleeping with her?”
Isabella looked delighted that Khloe had finally said it.
Marcus looked sick.
“Four months.”
Khloe opened her eyes.
Four months.
She thought back.
June.
She had been five months pregnant now.
Two months pregnant then.
Marcus had taken her to Napa for their anniversary in May.
He had held her hand beneath an oak tree and told her the baby had made him realize he already had everything he wanted.
In June, he had slept with Isabella.
Khloe looked at him.
“Where?”
His jaw tightened.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“Khloe.”
“Where?”
Marcus looked down.
“Venice.”
The word struck harder than she expected.
Venice.
Marcus had traveled there for a Thorne International acquisition.
Khloe had almost gone.
She had packed.
Then morning sickness became so severe her doctor advised against the flight.
Marcus had kissed her forehead before leaving.
He had brought back a small hand-painted music box for the nursery.
Khloe had placed it beside the crib.
She suddenly wanted to smash it.
“How many times?”
Marcus said nothing.
Isabella answered for him.
“Do you really want the number?”
Julian turned toward her.
“One more word and I will have counsel remove you from this room.”
Isabella smiled.
“You can’t keep me here forever.”
“No.”
Julian’s voice stayed calm.
“But I can keep you on hospital property while security preserves evidence and counsel contacts the authorities.”
Her smile disappeared.
Khloe barely heard them.
She was still looking at Marcus.
“How many?”
“More than once.”
“That’s not a number.”
Marcus’s voice broke slightly.
“Five.”
Khloe looked away.
Five times.
Five separate decisions.
Five opportunities to stop.
Five chances to remember his wife was home carrying his child.
Isabella had not stolen him.
Marcus had walked toward her.
That mattered.
Khloe would remember it later when people tried to make Isabella the sole villain.
Isabella had attacked her.
Isabella had lied.
Isabella had manipulated.
But Marcus had betrayed her willingly.
Those were separate truths.
One did not erase the other.
Julian stepped toward the security monitor again.
“We still haven’t heard the full earlier conversation.”
Marcus looked up quickly.
Khloe saw it.
“Play it.”
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
“Khloe, you already know the affair.”
“I want to know about the document.”
“It isn’t simple.”
“Nothing you say tonight seems to be.”
The security officer resumed playback.
Marcus and Isabella stood in the suite.
On the recording, Marcus held the envelope.
Isabella smiled.
“You signed it.”
Marcus answered.
“I signed a review acknowledgment.”
“Not this.”
“You expect anyone to believe that?”
“I don’t care what they believe.”
Isabella stepped closer.
“You will.”
She tapped the envelope.
“When the baby comes, Khloe’s position changes.”
Marcus looked angry.
“Leave her out of this.”
“You brought her into it when you married her.”
Marcus lowered his voice.
“You said the original was destroyed.”
“I lied.”
Present-day Isabella stared at the screen.
Khloe watched her carefully.
For the first time, Isabella looked genuinely worried.
Onscreen, Marcus reached for the envelope.
Isabella pulled it away.
“Not yet.”
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“You’re not getting it.”
Isabella’s voice softened.
“You said that in Venice.”
Marcus looked away.
She smiled.
“And then you changed your mind.”
Khloe felt another cut.
Marcus spoke from beside the bed.
“I’m sorry.”
Khloe did not look at him.
The recording continued.
Isabella opened the envelope and removed a photograph.
The camera could not make out the image.
Marcus’s posture changed immediately.
“What the hell is that?”
“Insurance.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Your father kept better records than you thought.”
At the mention of Marcus’s father, Julian turned sharply.
“Conrad.”
Marcus’s expression hardened.
Khloe looked at him.
“Your father is involved?”
Marcus didn’t answer.
On the recording, Isabella put the photograph back inside the envelope.
“Your father buried a man twelve years ago.”
Marcus replied.
“Your father stole from him.”
Isabella’s face changed.
“My father didn’t steal anything.”
“Your family made sure everyone believed he did.”
Present-day Isabella suddenly shouted.
“Turn it off.”
Everyone stared at her.
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
Interesting.
The woman who had begged Marcus to stop the footage earlier now wanted it stopped herself.
“Keep playing,” Julian ordered.
Isabella stepped toward the monitor.
Security blocked her.
The recording continued.
Marcus spoke.
“Luca Rossi transferred eighteen million dollars through shell companies.”
“Because Conrad told him to.”
“You have no proof.”
Isabella smiled.
“I do now.”
She looked directly at Marcus.
“And so do you.”
Marcus’s face drained of color.
The photograph.
That was why he had taken the envelope.
Not only because of the trust.
There was something else inside.
Something involving Marcus’s father.
Khloe looked at him.
“Who is Luca Rossi?”
Isabella answered.
“My father.”
Her voice had changed.
For the first time that evening, there was no arrogance in it.
Only bitterness.
“He was the chief financial officer of Thorne International.”
“Twelve years ago, Marcus’s father accused him of stealing eighteen million dollars.”
“My father lost everything.”
“His career.”
“His home.”
“His reputation.”
She stared at Marcus.
“And two years later, he died with half the city believing he was a thief.”
Marcus said quietly, “The evidence at the time—”
“Was created by Conrad.”
Isabella turned toward Khloe.
“Your husband knew.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“No.”
Isabella smiled.
“You knew enough.”
Khloe looked between them.
“Marcus?”
“I was twenty-six.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Marcus swallowed.
“I knew there were inconsistencies.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Enough to think her father might have been innocent?”
Marcus looked at Isabella.
Then back at Khloe.
“Yes.”
Khloe felt something inside her fracture again.
“You never told anyone?”
“I confronted my father.”
“And?”
“He told me to stay out of it.”
“So you did.”
Marcus didn’t answer.
Isabella laughed without humor.
“The great Marcus Thorne.”
“Always brave when there’s money on the line.”
“Not so brave when Daddy tells him to sit down.”
Marcus looked furious.
“You didn’t come into my life for justice.”
“No?”
“You used your father’s case to blackmail me.”
“I used the only leverage your family understands.”
“You slept with me.”
Isabella’s expression went cold.
“And you let me.”
Khloe closed her eyes briefly.
There it was again.
The truth no one could soften.
Marcus had participated.
Isabella had motives.
Marcus had choices.
Julian pointed at the recording.
“What does any of this have to do with Khloe’s trust?”
Isabella looked at him.
“You really don’t know?”
Julian’s face tightened.
“Know what?”
She stared at him for several seconds.
Then laughed.
“Oh.”
Her eyes moved to Marcus.
“He never told you.”
Marcus stepped toward her.
“Don’t.”
Isabella ignored him.
She looked directly at Khloe.
“The eighteen million my father supposedly stole?”
Khloe waited.
“It didn’t disappear.”
“It became seed money.”
Julian’s expression changed.
Isabella smiled.
“For the first Mercer-Thorne acquisition.”
The room went silent.
Khloe frowned.
“That’s impossible.”
Isabella raised an eyebrow.
“Is it?”
“My mother funded that acquisition.”
“Your mother thought she did.”
Julian stepped forward.
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m not suggesting anything.”
Isabella looked toward Marcus.
“Ask him where the original eighteen million went.”
Marcus’s hands curled into fists.
Khloe watched him.
“Marcus?”
He took a long breath.
“I don’t know.”
Isabella laughed.
“You know exactly where it went.”
“No.”
“You found the account.”
Marcus’s head snapped toward her.
Isabella’s smile returned.
There.
Khloe saw it.
She had caught him.
“What account?” Khloe asked.
Marcus looked toward Julian.
Julian looked equally confused.
Marcus rubbed one hand across his mouth.
“When Rowe investigated the forged trust document, he found a series of old transactions.”
“From twelve years ago?”
“Yes.”
“One account was still active.”
“Whose?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Technically?”
“Yes, Marcus.”
“Technically whose account?”
He looked at Khloe.
“Your mother’s.”
Khloe went still.
Her mother, Elena Mercer, had been dead for four years.
“That’s not possible.”
“I know.”
“How much is in it?”
Marcus didn’t answer.
Isabella did.
“Thirty-one million.”
Khloe stared at her.
Julian immediately pulled out his phone.
“Account number.”
Isabella smiled.
“Not a chance.”
Julian stepped closer.
“If you think withholding evidence is going to help you—”
“I think evidence is the only reason I’m still standing here instead of being dragged downstairs by your legal team.”
“You attacked a pregnant woman.”
Isabella’s face hardened.
“I made a mistake.”
Khloe looked at her.
“A mistake?”
“You kicked me.”
Isabella’s eyes flickered.
For the first time, shame appeared.
It disappeared quickly.
“I lost control.”
“No.”
Khloe’s voice remained calm.
“You followed me.”
“You locked the door.”
“You told me to disappear.”
“You attacked me.”
“Then you lied when Marcus walked in.”
“That wasn’t losing control.”
“That was a plan.”
Isabella said nothing.
Khloe continued.
“And I want to know what the plan was.”
Marcus looked at her.
“Khloe.”
She ignored him.
She looked at Isabella.
“You thought there were no witnesses.”
“You thought you could say I attacked you.”
“Why?”
Isabella’s jaw tightened.
Khloe remembered the trust clause.
Maternal incapacity.
Judicial finding.
Legal spouse.
Custodial voting authority.
Her stomach turned.
“You needed people to believe I was unstable.”
Isabella’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
It was enough.
Julian noticed too.
“What did you file?” he asked.
Isabella looked away.
Julian’s voice sharpened.
“What did you file?”
“I didn’t file anything.”
“Then who did?”
She remained silent.
Marcus suddenly moved.
He grabbed his phone from the table.
He opened an email application.
His face changed as he scrolled.
“Damn it.”
Khloe stared at him.
“What?”
Marcus showed the screen to Julian.
An automated legal notification had arrived thirteen minutes earlier.
Julian read it.
His expression darkened.
“What is it?” Khloe asked.
Julian took a breath.
“A petition.”
“For what?”
Neither man answered fast enough.
Khloe felt fear rise again.
“What petition?”
Julian finally looked at her.
“Emergency review of your fitness to exercise fiduciary control over the Mercer family trust.”
Khloe stared at him.
“Based on what?”
Julian looked toward Isabella.
“An allegation that you assaulted another woman while seven months pregnant.”
Elaine whispered, “My God.”
Khloe felt cold.
The attack had happened less than an hour ago.
Yet somebody had already prepared legal papers.
That meant the petition had existed before the confrontation.
The security footage did not merely prove Isabella had lied.
It proved the lie had been prepared in advance.
Julian looked at Marcus.
“Who filed it?”
Marcus scrolled lower.
Then stopped.
His face went completely blank.
Khloe saw the name reflected faintly in his eyes.
“Marcus?”
He did not answer.
She reached for the phone.
He hesitated.
Then handed it to her.
Khloe read the filing information.
Petitioner’s counsel.
A prestigious Manhattan law firm.
Authorized representative.
She read the name once.
Then again.
Her heartbeat seemed to stop.
Because the person who had authorized the petition was not Isabella Rossi.
It was not Conrad Thorne.
And it was not some stranger from Marcus’s company.
May you like
The signature belonged to the one person Khloe had trusted more than anyone left alive.
JULIAN MERCER.
