Chapter 2 - The Battle in Trauma Bay 4
The red light above Trauma Bay 4 glowed brightly as the emergency team worked franticly. Outside the double doors, Marcus stood against the pristine white wall, his black tuxedo jacket discarded, his crisp white shirt stained with dust and faint red streaks from where he had held Khloe.
His phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket. It was his father, Charles Thorne, calling from the gala downstairs, along with dozens of text messages from board members and press agents asking about the commotion on the VIP floor. Marcus ignored them all, staring intently through the glass panel.
Inside, Arthur Vance had a bedside ultrasound probe over Khloe’s abdomen. The continuous, rapid beep of the heart monitor echoed through the room.
"Placental abruption," Arthur announced to the surgical staff, his voice tight. "The impact caused a partial separation. We have moderate internal bleeding, and the fetal heart rate is dipping. We need to stabilize her blood pressure immediately before we can decide on an emergency C-section."
Khloe drifted in and out of consciousness, the pain searing through her lower right side like liquid fire. Every time she opened her eyes, she looked for Marcus, but the sterile environment and swarming doctors made him look like a shadow through the glass.
"Marcus..." she gasped through the oxygen mask.
Arthur leaned down, gently holding her hand. "He's right outside, Khloe. He's not going anywhere. But you need to stay calm for the baby. Focus on breathing with me. In... and out."
"Is... is the baby... okay?" she wept, a tear spilling over the mask.
"We are doing everything humanly possible," Arthur assured her. "You are strong, Khloe. Your mother was strong, and so are you. Hold on."
Outside, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. Marcus turned to see his older brother, Julian Thorne, rushing toward him alongside Gabe Vance, Arthur's younger brother and the head of Thorne Global's private intelligence detail.
"Marcus!" Julian gasped, catching his breath. "What the hell happened up here? The rumors downstairs are out of control. People are saying Isabella and Khloe got into a fight, and the Rossi family is already releasing a statement to the press claiming Khloe attacked Isabella out of pregnancy-induced hysteria!"
Marcus's jaw set so hard a vein throbbed along his temple. "Isabella kicked Khloe in the abdomen. Seven months pregnant. It was caught on camera."
Julian gasped, stepping back in absolute horror. "She... she did what?"
"Gabe," Marcus said, turning to the intelligence chief. "Is Isabella in police custody?"
"NYPD just placed her in the back of a cruiser," Gabe reported, handing Marcus a secure phone. "Her father, Victor Rossi, is already pulling strings with the District Attorney's office. He's claiming the video footage was doctored by the hospital because Dr. Vance is Khloe's uncle. They're pushing for bail immediately."
Marcus took the phone and dialed a private number. "Put me through to the Chief of Police and the Lead Prosecutor."
"Marcus," Julian warned gently, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "If you declare open war on the Rossi family tonight, the stock market will collapse tomorrow morning. Thorne Global and Rossi Shipping hold joint ventures worth four billion dollars."
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Marcus looked through the glass window, watching his wife writhe in agony while doctors rushed IV lines into her arms. He turned back to Julian, his eyes burning with an icy, lethal intensity.
"Then let it burn," Marcus whispered. "By sunrise, I want every contract with Rossi Shipping terminated. Short their stock. Freeze their credit lines through our offshore banks. I want the Rossi empire liquidated before Isabella even sees a judge."
