Chapter 1 - The Woman in CrimsonThe private executive suite of the Manhattan hospital glittered with the cold elegance of old money.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, New York burned beneath a winter night—towering skyscrapers, streams of headlights, and the distant glow of the Hudson River reflecting the city like a field of broken diamonds.
Inside, Khloe Thorne stood beside a marble table, one trembling hand resting protectively over her swollen belly.
She was seven months pregnant.
And across from her stood Isabella Rossi.
Isabella wore a crimson silk gown that looked almost black beneath the chandelier.
For years, she had been one of New York's most admired socialites—the daughter of a powerful shipping dynasty, photographed at charity galas, fashion shows, and political fundraisers.
But tonight, the elegance was gone.
Her eyes were burning with obsession.
"You stole everything from me," Isabella whispered.
Khloe stared at her in disbelief.
"I married Marcus. I didn't steal him."
Isabella laughed.
"That's what you tell yourself?"
Her voice became colder.
"Marcus was supposed to be mine. His company was supposed to become part of my family's empire. You were never supposed to exist in his world."
Khloe slowly stepped backward.
"Isabella, you're frightening me."
"Good."
The single word changed the temperature of the room.
Khloe's maternal instincts screamed at her to run.
But Isabella moved first.
She shoved Khloe violently.
Khloe crashed against the marble table.
A champagne flute fell.
CRASH.
Crystal exploded across the floor.
Khloe gasped and grabbed her stomach.
"Stop!"
Isabella didn't.
Her face had become terrifyingly calm.
"You think being Mrs. Marcus Thorne makes you untouchable?"
She stepped forward.
Then she raised her foot.
The pointed heel struck Khloe's side.
Khloe collapsed onto the marble floor.
Pain ripped through her abdomen.
She curled around her unborn child, tears streaming down her face.
Please.
Please let my baby live.
Above her, Isabella looked down with a twisted smile.
For the first time in her life, Khloe understood something terrifying.
May you like
This wasn't jealousy anymore.
This was war.
Related Stories
