SHE THOUGHT KICKING A PREGNANT WIFE IN THE HOSPITAL WOULD END THE MARRIAGE — UNTIL THE BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND SAW THE TRUTH WITH HIS OWN EYES.

The men who burst into the room were not the polite, suited fixers Marcus was used to. They were corporate enforcers—tough, cynical men hired to ensure that Marcus Thorne was neutralized before he could rally any legal defense.

"Marcus Thorne," the leader said, leveling a weapon. "The Board would like a word. And they would like you to sign over the last of your assets before you become a liability."

Marcus stepped in front of the bed, shielding Khloe. "I have nothing left to sign. The assets are liquidated, the accounts are wiped. You’re holding a gun to a man who has nothing to lose."

Khloe, watching from behind his shoulder, reached into her nightstand. She pulled out a small, unassuming flash drive. "You missed one thing," she said, her voice steady.

The enforcer turned toward her. "What’s that?"

"The digital keys to the Thorne offshore accounts," she said. "The ones that were never on the estate’s server. Marcus forgot, but I didn't. I spent months copying his files, just in case. I knew who I was marrying, Marcus. I knew you were a predator, so I kept the leash."

Marcus froze. He looked back at his wife, his mouth slightly agape. She had been playing the game better than he had.

"Give it to me," the enforcer demanded.

"No," Khloe said, holding the drive over the trash can. "If you take a step closer, this data—every secret, every bribery record, every tax evasion detail the Board has participated in—goes to the Feds, the press, and the local D.A. You can kill us, but you’ll be destroying everyone who sent you here."

The room was deathly silent. The enforcer looked at the drive, then at Marcus, then at Khloe. He realized he was looking at the smartest person in the room.

"You’re bluffing," the man said, though he hesitated.

"Try me," Khloe said, her hand opening.