Chapter 9 - The FBI Arrives
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Marcus looked at his wife in sheer disbelief, the small silver flash drive feeling heavier than a brick in his hand.
"You've had this evidence all along? For three months?"
"I was waiting until after the gala," she admitted, lowering her eyes, looking suddenly very fragile. "Uncle David and I were supposed to meet with federal investigators tomorrow morning, in secret. We didn't want to spook whoever was doing this before we handed over the hard proof."
Marcus suddenly understood the terrifying timing of the attack.
Isabella's assault... it wasn't just a sudden, violent outburst born of jealousy. It was a calculated, desperate hit. Someone had found out what Khloe knew. Someone needed her silenced, permanently, before that meeting tomorrow morning.
A sharp, authoritative knock interrupted the tense silence in the room.
David Sterling entered, looking grimmer than Marcus had ever seen him. He was followed closely by a woman wearing a dark navy-blue windbreaker with bright yellow letters across the back: FBI.
She didn't wait for introductions or offer polite condolences. She walked straight to the foot of the bed and introduced herself with crisp efficiency.
"Special Agent Rebecca Collins, financial crimes division."
She placed a thick manila folder on the rolling bedside table.
"We've reviewed the hospital security footage from the suite, Mr. Thorne," Agent Collins said, her voice devoid of emotion.
Then she looked directly at Marcus, her sharp eyes missing nothing.
"And after seeing what your wife managed to compile on that flash drive..." she paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "This assault is no longer just an attempted attack by a disgruntled employee or a jealous rival."
She opened the folder, revealing a chaotic spread of high-resolution surveillance photographs, complex bank routing records, and printed surveillance stills showing Isabella Rossi meeting with men in dark suits.
"It's part of a much larger, highly organized criminal conspiracy," Agent Collins stated flatly.
Marcus exchanged a stunned, horrified glance with Khloe. Neither of them had realized that the enemy standing behind Isabella Rossi was far more powerful, and far more deeply entrenched, than they could have ever imagined. They had stumbled into a war they didn't even know was happening.
And somewhere across the city, in a luxurious, soundproofed penthouse, a man watching the evening news quietly picked up his encrypted cell phone.
"She survived the fall," he said coldly, staring at the television screen showing the hospital.
May you like
A distorted voice answered from the other end of the line.
"Then we'll have to finish what Isabella couldn't. Tonight."
