Chapter 3 - THE FIRST BABY
By sunrise, Khloe’s unborn child had stabilized.
Marcus had not.
He sat alone in Adrian’s office with three files spread across the desk.
One belonged to Marcus.
One supposedly belonged to Julian.
The third belonged to Khloe’s first pregnancy.
Adrian entered carrying coffee.
Marcus ignored it.
“Tell me.”
Adrian closed the door.
“The neonatal records were altered.”
Marcus stared at him.
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
“Which child was sick?”
“We cannot establish that from the hospital chart because several pages were replaced.”
“Voss?”
“Almost certainly.”
“So we still don’t know.”
“No.”
Marcus looked toward Khloe’s file.
“What about her miscarriage?”
Adrian sat.
“This is worse.”
Marcus felt his stomach tighten.
“How?”
“Khloe’s pregnancy was progressing normally.”
“I know.”
“The miscarriage occurred shortly after she received an injection at a private fertility clinic.”
Marcus remembered.
Khloe had experienced mild bleeding.
Their physician recommended progesterone support.
A nurse administered the injection.
Two days later, they lost the baby.
Marcus had held Khloe while she cried until she had nothing left.
She spent months believing her body failed their child.
“What was in the injection?”
“The chart says progesterone.”
“But?”
“The clinic used a supplier connected to Samuel Voss.”
Marcus stared.
“Was he working there?”
“Unofficially.”
“Why didn’t you know this before?”
“I had no reason to investigate.”
“You’re her uncle.”
“And I’m not omniscient.”
Adrian’s frustration cracked.
“You think I’m not asking myself the same question?”
Marcus looked away.
Adrian continued.
“I’ve requested every available sample and pharmacy record.”
“Can you prove someone caused the miscarriage?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Medicine does not always give courtroom certainty.”
Marcus hated that answer because it was true.
Then Adrian opened another file.
“However, I found something else.”
“What?”
“Khloe was not the first woman connected to the Thorne family who lost a pregnancy under suspicious circumstances.”
Marcus stared.
“Who?”
“Your cousin Benjamin’s wife.”
Rachel.
Seven years earlier.
Miscarriage.
Then another cousin.
Nathaniel.
His fiancée became pregnant five years ago.
She miscarried.
Nathaniel died in a boating accident the following year.
“Three pregnancies?”
“Four.”
Marcus looked up.
Adrian gave him another name.
Charlotte Thorne.
Marcus’s aunt.
Pregnant twenty-eight years earlier.
She lost the child late in pregnancy.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying your father’s obsession with controlling inheritance may have continued after his death.”
“How?”
“Through someone else.”
Marcus thought of Isabella.
Samuel Voss.
Julian.
Eleanor.
“Who benefits if there is only one Thorne heir?”
Adrian did not answer.
Marcus did.
“The trust.”
The Thorne family fortune was controlled through a multigenerational trust.
Marcus was currently primary beneficiary.
If he died without descendants, assets moved through another branch.
If Marcus produced a legal heir, the child eventually controlled the majority.
“Who manages the trust?”
Adrian looked uncomfortable.
“Your mother chairs the family council.”
Marcus stood.
“No.”
“I’m not accusing Eleanor.”
“You’re thinking it.”
“I’m thinking everyone must be investigated.”
Marcus walked toward the window.
Below, Manhattan was waking.
He had spent his life believing money provided security.
Now it looked like bait.
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Marcus Thorne.”
Silence.
Then:
“Did you enjoy my photograph?”
Marcus stopped.
The voice sounded like his.
Not exactly.
Close enough to be disturbing.
“Julian?”
A quiet laugh.
“So Mother finally admitted I exist.”
“Where are you?”
“Wrong first question.”
“What should I ask?”
“Why did Isabella try to hurt your wife?”
Marcus looked toward Adrian.
“Tell me.”
“Because Isabella is terrified.”
“Of you?”
“Of her father.”
“Vittorio Rossi?”
“Yes.”
Marcus knew Vittorio.
Real-estate billionaire.
Longtime friend of Eleanor.
He had spent decades trying to connect the Rossi and Thorne families through business.
“Why?”
“Because Isabella was supposed to marry you.”
“She was never going to.”
“That didn’t matter.”
“To whom?”
“The trust.”
Marcus’s grip tightened.
“What does Vittorio have to do with my trust?”
“More than you.”
“Where are you?”
Julian ignored him.
“Ask Eleanor who receives control if your child is born and then you die before the child turns twenty-five.”
Marcus knew the answer generally.
A guardian council.
But he had never examined its membership.
“Who?”
“Ask her.”
“Julian.”
Silence.
“Did you threaten my wife?”
“No.”
“The letter said my heir would never be born.”
“I didn’t write that.”
Marcus froze.
“My mother said—”
“I left an envelope.”
“What was inside?”
“My medical records and a photograph.”
“No threat?”
“No.”
“Then who wrote it?”
“You’re finally asking useful questions.”
The call ended.
Marcus immediately summoned Eleanor.
She arrived an hour later.
He placed the trust document on Adrian’s desk.
“Who controls my child’s inheritance if I die?”
Eleanor’s expression tightened.
“A guardian council.”
“Names.”
“Marcus—”
“Names.”
She listed them.
Eleanor Thorne.
Adrian Mercer.
Two independent trustees.
And Vittorio Rossi.
Marcus stared.
“Why Vittorio?”
“Your father appointed him.”
“Why?”
“They were friends.”
“That is not enough.”
Eleanor looked away.
Marcus understood.
“There was an agreement.”
No answer.
“An agreement about Isabella.”
Eleanor whispered:
“Yes.”
Adrian swore quietly.
Marcus felt disgusted.
“My father arranged my marriage when I was a child?”
“Not legally.”
“Comforting.”
“It was an understanding.”
“Between Harrison and Vittorio?”
“Yes.”
“If I married Isabella?”
“The Rossi and Thorne holdings would eventually consolidate several investments.”
“And if I didn’t?”
“Nothing.”
Marcus stared.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Eleanor’s silence said no.
Adrian opened the trust annexes.
After twenty minutes, he found it.
An obscure clause.
If Marcus died while his child was a minor, the guardian council could control voting interests worth billions.
Vittorio Rossi held a deciding vote if the other members deadlocked.
Marcus sat slowly.
“This is not about Isabella wanting me.”
“No,” Adrian said.
“It’s about controlling my son.”
Then Khloe appeared in the doorway.
She had heard enough.
“Our son.”
Marcus stood.
“You should be in bed.”
“I’ve spent enough time lying down while people make decisions about my life.”
Fair.
She entered.
“What happens if the baby is born?”
Adrian answered.
“Nothing immediately.”
“And if Marcus dies?”
“Control shifts.”
“To a council including Isabella’s father.”
“Yes.”
Khloe looked at Marcus.
“And if I die?”
Marcus felt cold.
Adrian checked.
“As surviving parent, Marcus retains control.”
“So they need Marcus alive until the baby is born.”
Adrian nodded slowly.
“Potentially.”
Khloe continued.
“Then they need me gone.”
Marcus turned.
“No.”
Khloe looked at him.
“Isabella told me I was supposed to give you an heir and disappear.”
The sentence finally made sense.
Not jealousy.
A plan.
Khloe would carry the heir.
Then someone would remove her.
Later Marcus could die.
Their son would inherit billions under a council partly controlled by Vittorio Rossi.
Marcus whispered:
“Isabella knew.”
“Some of it,” Adrian said.
Khloe shook her head.
“She knew enough.”
Then a detective entered.
“We located Samuel Voss.”
“Where?”
“Private hangar in New Jersey.”
Marcus stood.
“Alive?”
The detective hesitated.
“Yes.”
“But?”
“He wasn’t alone.”
Marcus already knew.
“Julian.”
“No.”
The detective placed a surveillance photograph on the table.
Vittorio Rossi stood beside Samuel Voss.
Between them was a woman Marcus recognized immediately.
Isabella.
She had been released pending further investigation after claiming the shove was an isolated assault and denying knowledge of the medication’s contents.
Now she was meeting the doctor who switched it.
But the photograph contained one more detail.
Vittorio held a folder.
The words on its label were visible.
THORNE INFANT SUCCESSION - PHASE II
Khloe stared.
“Phase two?”
Adrian looked horrified.
“If this is phase two…”
Marcus finished.
“Then phase one already happened.”
May you like
And suddenly the question was no longer whether someone planned to hurt their unborn child.
It was whether the child Khloe had lost the year before had ever truly died.
