191 She believed one vicious kick to a billionaire’s pregnant wife, inside the privacy of a luxury hospital suite, would end a marriage without consequences.

The appearance of the black rose triggered an immediate and aggressive overhaul of the estate’s security. Marcus fired the external security contractor and brought in a specialized, ex-military private detail. Every staff member was temporarily sent home with paid leave, leaving only a trusted skeleton crew inside the mansion.

That evening, the massive estate felt isolating and quiet. Marcus sat in the nursery, watching Maya sleep. The dim light of the star-projector painted the ceiling in soft blues and purples.

Khloe walked in softly, carrying two mugs of warm tea. She handed one to Marcus and sat in the rocking chair beside him.

"The perimeter is secured," Marcus whispered, though the tension in his jaw remained. "Nobody gets within a mile of this house without me knowing about it."

"I know," Khloe said gently, taking a sip of her tea.

Marcus looked down at his hands, a rare expression of deep guilt crossing his usually stoic features. "I promised you, Khloe. I promised that nothing would ever hurt you or Maya again. And yet, here we are, surrounded by guards because the monsters from my world refuse to stay dead. I brought this danger to our door."

Khloe reached out, placing her warm hand over his tight, anxious fist.

"Marcus, look at me," Khloe said softly but firmly.

He lifted his eyes to meet hers.

"You did not bring this danger to us. Greed brought it. Julian brought it," Khloe told him, her voice filled with unwavering love and strength. "You are the shield that stands between us and that world. I have never felt unsafe with you. Not once. You are fighting to protect our family's future, and I am proud to stand beside you."

Marcus closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting her words wash over him, anchoring him. The guilt began to recede, replaced by a cold, hardened determination to finish Julian Vance once and for all.

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a secure text from Thomas Sterling, the federal prosecutor.

“Warrants secured. The raid happens tomorrow at noon. Get Vance out of the building. We want to arrest him quietly to secure his devices before he triggers a wipe protocol.”