Chapter 2 - The First PlaybackThe footage began without sound at first.
That almost made it worse.
The room appeared calm in the video. Golden lights. White flowers. Crystal glasses. Khloe alone by the table, one hand resting on her stomach, looking exhausted but peaceful.
Then Isabella entered.
Marcus watched from the hallway outside the suite, his jaw locked so tightly that the muscle near his cheek twitched.
Adrian stood beside him. The police officers stood behind them. Elaine Parker had returned, shaking, with several hospital staff members who had witnessed the aftermath.
No one spoke.
On the tablet screen, Isabella moved closer to Khloe.
The audio activated.
“You were never supposed to stand beside him.”
Elaine gasped.
Marcus closed his eyes for half a second, as if each word cut through him.
The footage continued.
“You were supposed to smile for the cameras, give him the child he wanted… and disappear.”
Khloe’s voice came weak but steady.
“Leave. Get out of this room.”
Then the shove came.
A violent, sudden movement.
Khloe hit the table.
Someone in the hallway cursed under their breath.
Isabella, who had been standing several feet away guarded by one officer, began shaking her head. “That’s not— That’s edited. You don’t understand. She provoked me before that.”
Adrian turned toward the technician.
“Play the last fifteen minutes.”
The technician swiped.
The recording jumped backward.
It showed Khloe entering the suite alone. Sitting. Breathing. Trying to recover from the gala. No argument. No provocation. No threat.
Then Isabella entered like a shadow in red.
The second shove appeared.
The champagne glass shattered.
Then came the moment that silenced every person in the corridor.
Isabella’s heel striking Khloe’s side.
Marcus moved so fast one officer instinctively stepped between him and Isabella.
“Mr. Thorne,” the officer warned.
Marcus did not fight him.
He only stared at Isabella with a kind of controlled fury that made her step backward.
“You kicked my pregnant wife.”
Isabella sobbed. “I panicked.”
“You lied.”
“She was taking everything from me!”
The confession came out before she could stop it.
Silence fell.
Even Isabella seemed to hear what she had said.
Marcus’s voice dropped.
“She is my wife. Our child is my child. You were owed nothing.”
Isabella’s face twisted.
For one second, the elegant mask shattered completely.
“You promised me I mattered.”
Marcus looked disgusted. “I never promised you anything.”
That hit her harder than an accusation.
Because Isabella’s entire fantasy had depended on believing Marcus had chosen wrong, that Khloe was an obstacle, that time and pressure and humiliation would eventually make him turn back to her.
But he had not turned back.
Not once.
Officer Daniels stepped forward. “Ms. Rossi, you need to come with us.”
Isabella pulled away. “No. You don’t understand who my father is.”
Adrian smiled faintly. “I know exactly who your father is.”
Isabella froze.
“Then you know this will disappear.”
“No,” Adrian said. “It won’t.”
The elevator opened at the end of the hall.
A tall older man in an expensive navy suit stepped out, surrounded by two assistants and a private attorney.
Vincent Rossi.
Isabella’s father.
His face was pale with rage.
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But it was not rage at what his daughter had done.
It was rage that she had been caught.
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