Chapter 7 — The Night Khloe Disappeared
Chapter 7 — The Night Khloe Disappeared
At 11:48 p.m., the hospital corridor went silent.
Too silent.
Marcus noticed it immediately.
The nurses had stopped talking.
The security guards were no longer visible through the glass doors.
Even the usual mechanical hum from the elevators seemed to have disappeared.
He stood beside Khloe's bed.
She was asleep.
One hand rested over her stomach.
Marcus watched her for several seconds.
Then his phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Nothing.
Only breathing.
“Who is this?”
Silence.
Marcus ended the call.
His phone rang again.
This time, a message appeared.
ASK KHLOE ABOUT THE NIGHT SHE DISAPPEARED.
Marcus frowned.
He looked at his wife.
Khloe had never disappeared.
Not since he'd known her.
Or had she?
He suddenly remembered something.
Three years earlier.
Before their wedding.
Khloe had vanished for forty-eight hours.
She had told him she needed time.
He had believed her.
Now, for the first time, he wondered whether that had been the truth.
Marcus waited until morning.
When Khloe woke, he sat beside her.
“Can I ask you something?”
She smiled weakly.
“That's usually when you ask something terrifying.”
He tried to smile.
“When we first met… you disappeared.”
Her smile vanished.
“What?”
“Three years ago.”
Khloe looked away.
“Who told you?”
“No one.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“I received a message.”
Her expression changed.
“What kind?”
“Someone told me to ask you about that night.”
Khloe closed her eyes.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she whispered:
“It wasn't my choice.”
Marcus felt his chest tighten.
“What happened?”
“I was taken.”
He froze.
“By who?”
Khloe looked at him.
“Isabella.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Marcus stared at her.
“Isabella kidnapped you?”
“She didn't physically drag me away.”
“Then what did she do?”
“She convinced me to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because she told me you were going to die.”
Marcus frowned.
“What?”
“She said your family had decided to eliminate you.”
Khloe's voice trembled.
“She showed me photographs.”
“Of me?”
“Yes.”
“Doing what?”
“Meeting people.”
“Business meetings?”
“No.”
Khloe swallowed.
“Hospital records.”
Marcus stared.
“What kind of records?”
“Your blood tests.”
His expression hardened.
“She told me you had a genetic disease.”
Marcus shook his head.
“I never had one.”
“I know that now.”
“But you believed her.”
“I was terrified.”
Khloe looked toward the window.
“I thought I was saving you.”
Marcus reached for her hand.
“Where did she take you?”
“An apartment.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Two days.”
“Who else was there?”
“No one.”
“Are you sure?”
Khloe hesitated.
“There was a woman.”
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
“Vivian?”
“I don't know.”
“What did she look like?”
“Older. Silver hair.”
Marcus's stomach tightened.
“Vivian.”
Khloe nodded.
“She never spoke to me.”
“Then what did she do?”
“She watched me.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Khloe began crying.
“She kept touching her stomach.”
Marcus frowned.
“Her stomach?”
“She was pregnant.”
Marcus froze.
“Vivian was pregnant?”
“No.”
Khloe shook her head.
“She wasn't.”
“Then why did she keep touching it?”
“I don't know.”
Marcus looked confused.
Then Khloe whispered:
“She said something.”
“What?”
“She said, ‘You have no idea what your child will cost.’”
Marcus felt a chill.
“But I wasn't pregnant.”
Khloe nodded.
“Not then.”
Marcus stood.
He walked toward the window.
Everything was beginning to connect.
The altered prenup.
The hidden account.
The Bloodline Trust.
Vivian.
Isabella.
And now the night Khloe disappeared.
He turned back.
“Why did you come back?”
Khloe looked down.
“Isabella changed her mind.”
“What?”
“She said she couldn't go through with it.”
“Go through with what?”
“She wanted me to sign something.”
“What?”
“A document.”
“What kind?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you sign it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I saw your name.”
Marcus frowned.
“What did it say?”
Khloe closed her eyes.
“It said I was voluntarily surrendering my marital rights.”
Marcus stared.
“And my inheritance rights.”
She nodded.
“And the rights of any future child.”
Marcus's face hardened.
“So she was trying to make you disappear legally.”
“Yes.”
“She wasn't trying to kill you.”
“Not at first.”
“What changed?”
Khloe whispered:
“She received a phone call.”
“From Vivian?”
“I don't know.”
“What did the caller say?”
Khloe looked terrified.
“She said, ‘If she won't sign, make sure she never reaches Marcus.’”
Silence.
Marcus clenched his fists.
“And then?”
“Isabella let me go.”
“Why?”
“She said she couldn't hurt me.”
Marcus stared.
“Do you believe her?”
Khloe hesitated.
“I don't know.”
That afternoon, Elaine arrived with new evidence.
“We found the apartment.”
Marcus looked up.
“Where?”
“Chicago.”
“Can we get inside?”
“We already did.”
She placed a tablet on the table.
Security footage appeared.
A younger Khloe entered a building.
Two minutes later, Isabella followed.
Marcus watched.
Then another vehicle appeared.
A black SUV.
The license plate had been removed.
A woman stepped out.
Silver hair.
Marcus froze.
“Vivian.”
Elaine nodded.
“She was there.”
“What happened next?”
Elaine advanced the footage.
Vivian entered.
Forty-two minutes later, she left.
Khloe didn't.
Then Isabella emerged.
Alone.
She got into the SUV.
Marcus frowned.
“Where was Khloe?”
“Still inside.”
“How long?”
“Six hours.”
“Then what happened?”
Elaine played the next clip.
A man entered the building.
He carried a medical bag.
Marcus stared.
“Who is that?”
“We don't know.”
The man left ninety minutes later.
Then Khloe appeared.
She walked out alone.
Marcus's stomach turned.
“She was drugged.”
Elaine nodded.
“We think so.”
“Why?”
“She doesn't remember leaving.”
Marcus watched the footage again.
Khloe looked pale.
Unsteady.
Barely conscious.
He felt rage rising.
“Find that man.”
“We're trying.”
“Find him.”
That night, Marcus confronted Isabella.
She was being held in a private security suite.
Two officers stood outside.
Marcus entered alone.
Isabella looked up.
“You found out.”
“Yes.”
“I knew you would.”
“You kidnapped my wife.”
“I saved her.”
Marcus slammed his hand onto the table.
“You drugged her.”
“I didn't.”
“You took her to an apartment.”
“Yes.”
“You brought Vivian there.”
“Yes.”
“You tried to make Khloe sign away her rights.”
Isabella looked down.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Vivian told me it would save your life.”
Marcus stared.
“She lied to you.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you do it?”
Isabella's eyes filled with tears.
“Because I loved you.”
Marcus recoiled.
“You didn't love me.”
“I did.”
“You tried to destroy my marriage.”
“I was told you would die if I didn't.”
“By Vivian?”
Isabella nodded.
“She told me your father had left instructions to eliminate you.”
Marcus froze.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“She showed you proof?”
“Yes.”
“What proof?”
“Your father's signature.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“On what?”
“A death authorization.”
His expression changed.
“My father authorized my death?”
“I believed it.”
“Where is it?”
“I don't have it.”
“Who does?”
“Vivian.”
Marcus stepped back.
Then he noticed something.
“Why did you let Khloe go?”
Isabella looked at him.
“Because Vivian ordered me to kill her.”
Marcus froze.
“When?”
“The night she disappeared.”
“And you refused.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Isabella's voice broke.
“Because Khloe was pregnant.”
Marcus stared.
“She was?”
“No.”
Isabella shook her head.
“She wasn't pregnant.”
“Then why did Vivian think she was?”
“I don't know.”
Marcus's expression changed.
“What did Vivian say?”
“She said the child already existed.”
Marcus felt a chill.
“That's impossible.”
Isabella shook her head.
“That's what I told her.”
“And?”
“She told me something I never forgot.”
“What?”
“She said, ‘The Sterling heir isn't created when it is born.’”
Marcus stared.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
Elaine interrupted them.
“Marcus.”
He turned.
“We found the medical records.”
“From that night?”
“Yes.”
She handed him a file.
Khloe's name was on it.
Marcus opened it.
There was a blood test.
Three years earlier.
The result had been marked:
POSITIVE.
Marcus stared.
His heart stopped.
“Khloe was pregnant.”
Isabella looked at the document.
“No.”
Marcus turned.
“What?”
“I saw her medical report.”
“When?”
“That night.”
“What did it say?”
“Negative.”
Marcus looked at Elaine.
“Could this be fake?”
“Possibly.”
Elaine examined the document.
Then she froze.
“Marcus.”
“What?”
“This isn't a pregnancy test.”
He frowned.
“What is it?”
“A genetic test.”
“Genetic?”
Elaine nodded.
“It was testing Khloe for Sterling bloodline markers.”
Marcus stared.
“Why?”
Elaine pointed to the result.
MATCH CONFIRMED.
Marcus felt the room spin.
Khloe wasn't pregnant.
But her DNA matched the Sterling bloodline.
Isabella looked terrified.
“She isn't just your wife.”
Marcus turned.
“What are you saying?”
Isabella whispered:
“Khloe is connected to the Sterling family.”
Marcus left the room.
He walked down the corridor alone.
His mind raced.
Khloe had never told him.
Maybe she didn't know.
Maybe nobody had told her.
But if the genetic test was real—
then their marriage had never been accidental.
Someone had brought Khloe into his life.
Someone had planned it.
And the night she disappeared had not been an isolated attack.
It had been a test.
A test to determine whether Khloe could be separated from him.
And whether she carried the bloodline.
Hours later, Marcus returned to Khloe.
She was awake.
He sat beside her.
“There's something I need to ask you.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Did you know your family had a connection to the Sterlings?”
Khloe's face went white.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Marcus showed her the genetic report.
Khloe stared at it.
“I've never seen that.”
“Do you know who your biological father is?”
“My father died when I was ten.”
“Was he connected to my family?”
“I don't know.”
Marcus took a breath.
“Khloe…”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“I think someone chose you.”
She stared.
“For what?”
“To marry me.”
Khloe's eyes filled with tears.
“No.”
“I don't know yet.”
“But you think our marriage was planned?”
“I think someone knew about you before I did.”
Khloe looked toward her stomach.
“And now our baby…”
Marcus nodded.
“May be the reason.”
At 2:00 a.m., Marcus received another message.
This time, there was no threat.
Only a photograph.
It showed Khloe three years earlier.
The night she disappeared.
She was standing beside Vivian.
But there was something else in the photograph.
A third person.
A man.
Marcus zoomed in.
His heart stopped.
He recognized him.
The man was standing beside his father in an old family photograph.
Marcus whispered:
“My father knew him.”
Elaine entered.
“What happened?”
Marcus showed her.
“Find this man.”
Elaine studied the image.
“We already have a name.”
“Who?”
She looked at him.
“Dr. Nathan Caldwell.”
Marcus stared.
“The doctor treating Khloe?”
Elaine nodded.
Marcus's blood went cold.
“No.”
She pointed to the date.
“He was at the apartment three years ago.”
Marcus looked toward Khloe's room.
The doctor he trusted.
The doctor who had just saved his wife's life.
The doctor who had access to her medical records.
The doctor who knew about their unborn child.
Had been there the night Khloe disappeared.
And suddenly, Marcus understood why the enemy had never needed to break into the hospital.
May you like
They had never needed to.
They already had someone inside.
