Chapter 5 - THE CLOUD
Twenty miles away, in a darkened penthouse overlooking the city skyline, three massive computer monitors glowed brightly against the glass walls.
Julian stood in front of the center screen, a half-empty mug of black coffee resting beside his keyboard. He wore a dark henley shirt, his face rigid and stone-like under the harsh blue light of the monitors.
On the center screen, a high-definition video file was playing in real time.
The feed was clear, crisp, and captured in crystal 4K resolution.
It showed the entire fifteen minutes before Marcus had opened the door.
Julian watched in dead silence as Isabella Vance crept into Room 412 at 2:14 PM, pulling a small black case from her designer tote bag. He watched her pull out the glass vial, fill the syringe, and inject the clear fluid into my IV line with a calm, practiced hand.
He watched her step back, fold her arms, and wait five minutes with a cruel smile while I began to thrash in pain on the bed.
He watched me fall off the mattress, reaching out toward the nightstand for help, only for Isabella to step forward, place her red shoe on my side, and press me down against the stone floor.
Julian’s jaw clenched so tightly a muscle twitched along his cheekbone. He didn't punch the desk. He didn't curse.
He simply picked up his secure satellite phone and dialed a ten-digit number.
"Dominic," Julian said when the line connected on the second ring.
"Is it done?" a deep, gravelly voice answered. Dominic—our family's eldest brother, who managed high-level corporate security and private intelligence.
"Isabella Vance just attempted to murder Khloe in her hospital suite," Julian said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "She used an unlabelled uterotonic agent in her IV. The baby is in emergency distress right now."
A long, suffocating silence fell over the phone line.
"Where is Marcus?" Dominic asked, his tone dropping into a icy register.
"Standing outside OR 3 like a helpless fool," Julian replied, pulling up a secondary live feed of the hospital's fourth-floor hallway camera. "He hit Isabella when he saw the shoe mark, but he doesn't know the half of it yet. She smashed the local camera housing, thinking she wiped the drive."
"Has she left the building?"
"No. Marcus put two hospital guards on her in Room 412. But she’s on her phone right now—probably calling her contact in the police department to get her out before the precinct detectives arrive."
"She won't make it to the parking garage," Dominic said flatly. "Send the raw feed to my tablet. And broadcast a copy directly to the main screen in the Mercer Global executive boardroom."
Julian’s fingers danced across his mechanical keyboard. "What about Marcus?"
"Marcus let that snake into my sister's life," Dominic replied, the sound of a car engine roaring to life in the background of his line. "He's going to watch her burn. And then he's going to answer to us."
Julian pressed ENTER.
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"Feed deployed," Julian whispered.
Across the city, the trap snapped shut.
