Chapter 9 - THE WAKE-UP
In the high-dependency recovery unit of the hospital, the curtains were drawn tight against the morning sun.
I slowly opened my eyes.
My head felt heavy, wrapped in a dense, fog-like haze from the anesthesia. The sharp, tearing pain in my lower abdomen had dulled into a deep, steady ache, kept at bay by the intravenous pain pumps hooked to my arm.
I blinked, forcing my vision to focus.
Sitting on a chair beside my bed, holding my hand with a grip so tight his fingers were white, was Marcus.
He looked broken. The powerful, proud CEO who had always dominated every room he entered now looked like a man who had lost his soul. His head was resting against the mattress, his shoulders shaking with quiet, muffled sobs.
"Marcus..." I rasped. My throat felt like sandpaper.
Marcus’s head snapped up instantly. His bloodshot eyes met mine, filled with a mixture of overwhelming relief and staggering guilt.
"Khloe..." he choked out, standing up carefully and reaching out to touch my cheek with trembling fingers. "You're awake... God, Khloe, you're awake..."
"The... baby..." I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Marcus... where is she?"
"She's alive," Marcus wept, bowing his head against my hand. "She's in the NICU. She's tiny, Khloe... so tiny... but she's fighting. The doctors said she's going to make it."
I closed my eyes, a long, trembling breath escaping my lips as tears spilled over my eyelashes. She was alive.
"I'm sorry," Marcus sobbed, pressing his forehead against my knuckles. "I'm so sorry, Khloe. I didn't listen to you. I let that monster into our lives... I trusted her over you. I did this to you..."
I looked down at his shaking shoulders.
Four years ago, I had married Marcus because I believed he was a strong man—a man who could protect a family. But I had watched him allow Isabella to slowly poison our marriage, chip away at my dignity, and turn his corporate empire into a weapon against his own wife.
He wanted forgiveness. He wanted me to reach out, stroke his hair, and tell him it was all over.
I pulled my hand slowly out of his grip.
Marcus froze, looking up at me with wide, hurt eyes.
"Where is she, Marcus?" I asked softly.
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"The police... the federal marshals took her uncle," Marcus stammered, caught off guard by the cold distance in my voice. "Isabella fled the hospital, but my security team is searching for her. We're going to find her, Khloe. I swear to you, I'll make her pay."
"You won't have to," a deep voice spoke from the doorway.
