Chapter 5 - The Weight of Guilt
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Finally, the security director broke the heavy silence. He cleared his throat, his expression grim.
"I've reviewed hundreds of incident reports in my career, sir," the director said, looking toward David Sterling, then back toward Isabella's frozen image on the monitor. "I've seen accidents, fights, and misunderstandings. But this... this wasn't accidental."
David folded his arms across his chest, his eyes cold and hard.
"No," David agreed, his voice a low rumble. "It was intentional. It was attempted murder."
Marcus didn't say a single word. He couldn't. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles had turned completely white, the skin stretched taut over the bone.
For weeks, he had dismissed the small warning signs. Khloe had quietly, hesitantly mentioned Isabella's inappropriate comments at social gatherings. The lingering, possessive looks Isabella gave him. The subtle insults directed at Khloe's background. The unnecessary, overly familiar physical contact Isabella initiated during public corporate events.
Each time, Marcus had brushed it off. He had assumed they were simple misunderstandings, petty jealousies caused by the stressful social obligations of their wealth. He had told Khloe she was overreacting, that Isabella was just "ambitious" and "intense."
Now, looking at the undeniable proof on the screen, a crushing, suffocating guilt settled heavily on his shoulders.
"I should have listened to her," Marcus murmured, his voice cracking with self-loathing. "I should have protected her."
David turned and looked at him, his expression softening slightly, recognizing the profound pain in the younger man's eyes.
"You still can, Marcus," David said quietly. "You still can."
Before Marcus could respond, the sharp ring of his cell phone shattered the quiet of the security office. He pulled it from his pocket. The caller ID read: Obstetric Emergency Unit.
His heart nearly stopped beating. The air left his lungs. He answered immediately, his fingers fumbling slightly.
"Marcus Thorne."
Dr. Caldwell's voice came through the speaker, sounding calm but incredibly urgent.
"Your wife is stable, Mr. Thorne."
Marcus released a massive, shuddering breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He closed his eyes, whispering a silent prayer of thanks.
May you like
"But..."
That single word, hanging in the air, tightened every muscle in his body all over again.
