She thought one vicious attack inside a private hospital suite would destroy a billionaire’s marriage forever… She had no idea she was creating the evidence that would ruin her own life.

David didn't answer with words. He walked quickly to the bed and handed Marcus a sleek, black digital tablet.

On the screen was a live feed from the hospital's internal surveillance system. The camera was focused on the restricted maternity floor, specifically the hallway leading to the intensive care unit where they currently stood.

The grainy footage showed a man wearing a standard, gray hospital maintenance uniform casually entering the restricted corridor. He pushed a small, wheeled tool cart in front of him.

"Look closely," David ordered, pointing at the screen.

Marcus squinted. There was no visible work order clipped to the man's cart, which was standard protocol for any late-night repairs in restricted zones. There was no hospital identification badge clipped to his uniform shirt. His face was partially, deliberately hidden beneath the low brim of a dark baseball cap.

Rebecca Collins' voice suddenly came through the tablet's small speaker, crisp and authoritative. She was monitoring the feed from the security office downstairs.

"We've confirmed with the night shift supervisor," Agent Collins reported urgently. "He isn't one of the hospital employees. No maintenance has been scheduled for that floor."

Marcus's heart pounded a frantic, terrified rhythm against his ribs. The realization of what he was looking at hit him like a physical blow. The danger wasn't over. It was walking down the hall.

"Where is he right now?" Marcus demanded, his voice tight with rising panic.

David looked up from the tablet, his eyes darting toward the heavy wooden door of Khloe's room.

"Less than fifty feet from this room," David whispered grimly.

At that exact, terrifying moment, the bright fluorescent lights in the hallway outside flickered violently and then went out completely. The lights inside Khloe's room followed a split second later, plunging them into total darkness.

The steady hum of the air conditioning died. The monitors beeped loudly, switching automatically to emergency battery backup power, casting an eerie, rhythmic green glow across the room.