CHAPTER 3 — THE WOMAN IN SCRUBS
Khloe's pulse thundered in her ears.
The woman dressed as a nurse tightened her grip around Khloe's wrist just enough to keep her from reaching the emergency call button. Her smile remained calm, almost comforting, but her eyes held no warmth.
Only calculation.
Only purpose.
"You've become much more difficult than expected," the woman whispered.
Khloe swallowed painfully.
"Who... are you?"
The woman tilted her head.
"A friend."
"I don't have friends who threaten my baby."
"No," the woman replied softly. "You don't."
For several agonizing seconds, neither of them moved.
The heart monitor continued its steady rhythm.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Outside the room, footsteps echoed faintly through the hallway.
The woman released Khloe's wrist.
Instantly.
As though nothing had happened.
She straightened the IV line, smiled professionally, and raised her voice.
"You'll feel much better after some rest, Mrs. Thorne."
The door opened.
Dr. Emily Carson walked in holding a tablet.
"Oh," Emily said. "I didn't realize someone was already in here."
The fake nurse nodded politely.
"Just finishing up."
Emily frowned.
"I don't recognize you."
The woman's answer came without hesitation.
"I'm from the float team."
Emily looked briefly confused, but before she could ask another question, the woman handed her the syringe.
"Medication has been prepared."
"Thank you."
The stranger walked toward the door.
Before leaving, she glanced back at Khloe.
Just once.
It wasn't a threat.
It was a promise.
Then she disappeared into the hallway.
The moment the door closed, Khloe grabbed Emily's arm.
"Don't."
Emily looked startled.
"What?"
"The injection."
Emily studied the syringe.
"Why?"
"She isn't a nurse."
Emily's expression changed instantly.
"What did you say?"
"She threatened me."
The tablet slipped slightly in Emily's hands.
"What did she look like?"
"Dark hair."
"Blue scrubs."
"Hospital badge."
"She knew about an envelope."
Emily immediately pressed the emergency alarm.
Within seconds, security flooded the hallway.
Downstairs, Marcus's phone vibrated.
Dr. Emily Carson.
He answered before the first ring ended.
"Marcus speaking."
"You need to come upstairs."
"Now."
Something in her voice erased every other thought.
"What happened?"
"Someone entered Khloe's room pretending to be a nurse."
Marcus didn't wait for another word.
He was already running.
Meanwhile...
Jonathan Reeves remained inside the surveillance center.
He replayed footage from every hallway outside Trauma Room Three.
There.
9:58 p.m.
A nurse entered the corridor.
Blue scrubs.
Medical mask.
Clipboard.
Perfectly ordinary.
Jonathan followed her movements through six different cameras.
Then...
Camera Seven.
The woman walked behind a supply cart.
One second later...
She emerged wearing different scrubs.
Green.
No mask.
Different hairstyle.
Jonathan leaned closer.
Impossible.
He enlarged the image.
Silicone cheek inserts.
A removable wig.
Colored contact lenses.
Professional disguise.
Whoever she was...
She had prepared for this.
Marcus reached the twenty-first floor in less than a minute.
Emily met him outside Khloe's room.
"She's safe."
Marcus didn't slow down until he saw Khloe sitting upright in bed.
Only then did he breathe.
He rushed to her side.
"Are you hurt?"
She shook her head.
"No."
"But she knows."
Marcus frowned.
"Knows what?"
Khloe looked toward the closed door.
"The envelope."
Silence.
Marcus's face lost all color.
"You just said..."
Khloe closed her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
Marcus stood motionless.
"You have it."
She nodded once.
His voice became almost inaudible.
"Why?"
For several moments, Khloe said nothing.
Then she reached toward the bedside cabinet.
Opened her handbag.
Removed the cream-colored envelope.
The blue wax seal remained unbroken.
Marcus stared at it.
Three weeks.
Three weeks of wondering where it had disappeared.
Three weeks of suspecting corporate spies.
Board members.
Political enemies.
Instead...
His wife had taken it.
"I never wanted to steal it," Khloe whispered.
Marcus looked at her.
"Then why did you?"
"Because someone wanted to destroy you."
Marcus frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
Khloe carefully held the envelope in both hands.
"The night before it disappeared..."
"I overheard a conversation."
"Between who?"
She hesitated.
Then answered.
"Your father."
Marcus's heartbeat stopped.
"And Isabella."
The room became deathly quiet.
Marcus stared at her as though she'd spoken another language.
"My father has never even met Isabella."
Khloe slowly shook her head.
"That's what he wanted everyone to believe."
Marcus remembered every conversation he'd ever had with his father.
Richard Thorne.
Founder of Thorne Global Holdings.
A billionaire many times over.
Retired.
Respected.
Untouchable.
For decades, Richard had insisted he wanted nothing more than a peaceful retirement.
He rarely attended board meetings.
Rarely spoke to the media.
Rarely involved himself in family matters.
Could all of that have been an act?
"What exactly did you hear?" Marcus asked.
Khloe took a deep breath.
"I heard Isabella tell your father that once I was gone..."
"...the inheritance would return where it belonged."
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
"Inheritance?"
Khloe nodded.
"And then Richard said..."
She struggled to repeat the words.
"'Marcus has always been too emotional.'"
"'Soon he'll understand that blood matters more than love.'"
Marcus's hands slowly curled into fists.
His father had always believed family legacy came before everything.
Before happiness.
Before marriage.
Before loyalty.
But murder?
No.
Surely not.
A loud knock interrupted them.
Jonathan entered carrying a tablet.
"We've identified the fake nurse."
Marcus turned.
"Who is she?"
Jonathan's expression was grim.
"We don't know."
"What?"
"Her fingerprints don't exist."
"No employment history."
"No passport."
"No driver's license."
"Nothing."
Khloe whispered, "That's impossible."
Jonathan nodded.
"It gets worse."
He placed the tablet on the bed.
Hospital footage filled the screen.
The fake nurse entered through the staff entrance.
Walked confidently to the elevators.
Then vanished.
"Watch carefully."
The video switched to another camera.
The woman exited wearing business attire.
Different hair.
Different face.
Different height.
Marcus stared.
"How?"
Jonathan zoomed in.
"Elevator number four has a thirty-second blind spot during emergency override."
"She used it."
Marcus looked up.
"Who authorized the override?"
Jonathan swallowed.
"Someone using executive credentials."
"Whose?"
Jonathan hesitated.
Then answered.
"Yours."
Silence filled the room.
Marcus blinked.
"My credentials?"
"They were used at 9:46 p.m."
"I was downstairs with security."
"I know."
Jonathan's voice lowered.
"Which means someone cloned your executive access."
Marcus immediately understood the implication.
If someone could duplicate his security clearance...
No room inside the hospital was secure.
No vault.
No office.
No family member.
No one.
Before anyone could speak again, Adrian Bennett burst into the room.
His face was pale.
"What happened?"
Jonathan answered quickly.
"We've been compromised."
Adrian frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Jonathan handed him another tablet.
"This arrived in the hospital's secure email system exactly one minute ago."
Adrian opened the message.
There was no text.
Only one photograph.
The image showed Marcus and Khloe's beach house.
Taken live.
Just seconds earlier.
Someone was watching it.
At the bottom of the image were six simple words.
THIS WAS ONLY THE FIRST WARNING.
Then another message appeared beneath it.
THE NEXT ONE WILL BE FATAL.
Marcus looked at Khloe.
Then at the envelope in her hands.
For the first time, he realized this was no longer about Isabella Rossi.
She was only one piece of something much larger.
Someone had planned every move.
The attack.
The fake nurse.
The stolen security credentials.
May you like
Even the missing envelope.
And whoever was pulling the strings had just declared war on the entire Thorne family.
