Chapter 8 - The Man Behind EverythingPolice found Camille twelve hours later.
Then again.
“This is substantial.”
“Substantial?” Marcus snapped. “She literally predicts what happened.”
“It helps establish intent.”
“It establishes everything.”
“No,” Brooks replied firmly. “It establishes that Isabella discussed frightening Khloe and referenced pregnant women falling. A prosecutor will still need to connect every person in that room to specific crimes.”
Marcus hated how careful the law could be.
Khloe understood why it had to be.
Anger wanted instant justice.
Justice required proof.
Investigators authenticated the video.
It came from a hidden camera placed inside a private dining room at the Grand Mercer Club.
The sender remained unknown.
Hotel logs revealed Caroline booked the room.
Grant attended.
Camille attended.
Isabella entered through a service corridor.
Now police had motive, planning, and supporting evidence.
The district attorney approved additional warrants.
Isabella was arrested on charges related to assault and stalking while investigators considered more serious conspiracy allegations.
Cameras waited outside the courthouse.
For once, Isabella did not look confident.
Marcus watched the footage on television.
Khloe turned it off.
“I don’t want this becoming entertainment.”
“It already has.”
“Then we don’t feed it.”
Khloe did something nobody expected.
She released one statement.
Twenty-nine seconds.
No crying.
No accusations.
No billionaire husband standing beside her.
She faced the camera alone.
“My daughter is healthy. That is what matters most to me. I trust investigators to determine the truth. I will not turn violence against a pregnant woman into celebrity entertainment, and I will not respond to manipulated recordings or rumors about my marriage.”
Then she walked away.
The public response shifted.
Not completely.
But enough.
People were tired of manufactured drama.
The hospital video was difficult to argue with.
Isabella’s supporters began disappearing.
Sponsors distanced themselves.
Charities removed her from boards.
Caroline resigned temporarily from Thorne Global “for personal reasons.”
Grant was suspended.
Camille withdrew from public view.
But privately, the pressure escalated.
Marcus received a demand from several board members.
Emergency meeting.
Grant had been preparing them.
He had warned for months that Marcus’s “domestic distractions” were affecting leadership.
Nothing could have made Marcus angrier.
He entered the boardroom carrying one folder.
Khloe stayed home under doctor’s orders.
Caroline appeared remotely through counsel.
Grant’s allies questioned Marcus’s judgment.
One director asked whether recent events compromised his ability to lead.
Marcus let them finish.
Then he placed the folder on the table.
Inside were financial reports.
Grant had authorized suspicious consulting payments totaling $6.8 million over eighteen months.
Some led to shell companies.
One connected directly to Caroline’s family trust.
Another indirectly funded the LLC that paid Aaron Bell.
The boardroom changed instantly.
“This is fraud,” someone whispered.
“Potentially,” Marcus said.
Grant’s supporters went silent.
Marcus continued.
“I am not asking this board to defend my marriage. I am asking you to examine whether executives used company resources, unauthorized surveillance, and corporate funds in a campaign involving my family.”
The board voted unanimously for an external forensic audit.
Grant was terminated.
Caroline lost access to internal systems.
Marcus survived the challenge.
But victory lasted six hours.
At 9:20 that night, Khloe woke to smoke.
The penthouse fire alarm screamed.
Marcus ran from the bathroom.
“Khloe!”
Smoke seeped beneath the front door.
Security shouted in the corridor.
An electrical fire had started inside a utility closet on their floor.
Marcus wrapped Khloe in a coat and guided her toward the emergency stairs.
She was thirty-one weeks pregnant now.
Moving quickly was difficult.
They descended two floors before Khloe stopped.
“Marcus.”
“What?”
Her face tightened.
“Something’s wrong.”
A contraction.
Then another.
Marcus went pale.
“No.”
Security called paramedics.
By the time they reached the lobby, Khloe was shaking.
The contractions continued.
Hospital.
Again.
Marcus sat beside her ambulance stretcher while sirens screamed through Chicago traffic.
“Look at me,” he said.
“I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“What if she comes early?”
“Then she comes into a world with two parents who already love her.”
Khloe squeezed his hand.
At St. Augustine, Dr. Foster ordered medication and monitoring.
The contractions slowed.
Again, disaster was avoided.
But the timing bothered Marcus.
So did the fire.
Investigators initially suspected electrical failure.
Then the building engineer found a melted device inside the utility closet.
A remote ignition timer.
The fire had been intentional.
Khloe stared at Detective Brooks.
“Isabella is in custody.”
“Yes.”
“Caroline’s under surveillance.”
“Yes.”
“Grant?”
“His location was verified.”
“Camille?”
Brooks hesitated.
Marcus stood.
“What about Camille?”
“She disappeared this afternoon.”
Evelyn hadn’t heard from her.
Her phone was off.
Her apartment was empty.
Passport still there.
Car missing.
Police issued a bulletin.
Then Marcus received a voicemail.
Camille’s voice.
Crying.
“Marcus, please don’t hate me.”
He listened on speaker.
“I didn’t start the fire. I swear. But there’s something I didn’t tell you.”
She sobbed.
“Caroline wasn’t the person in charge.”
Marcus looked at Khloe.
Camille continued.
“There was someone else. Someone who knew everything about your house, your company, the hospital.”
A pause.
Then:
“Grant wasn’t working for Caroline.”
Marcus held his breath.
“Caroline was working for Grant.”
The voicemail ended.
Thirty seconds later, another message appeared.
A photograph.
Camille sitting in a chair somewhere dark.
Behind her stood a man.
Only his hand was visible.
On his finger was a heavy gold ring.
May you like
Marcus recognized it.
He had given that ring to Grant on the twentieth anniversary of their friendship.
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