Chapter 14 - The Lockdown

The air in the library became heavy.

Marcus pulled a decorative metal rod from the fireplace and struck the emergency control panel.

Sparks fell across the floor.

The door remained sealed.

Richard helped Khloe sit on the leather couch.

Her breathing was controlled, but the contractions continued.

Dr. Mercer checked her pulse.

“We need to get her back to the hospital.”

“That hospital is controlled by Victor,” Marcus said.

“She still needs medical care.”

The computer chimed.

Upload complete.

Samuel immediately sent copies to Elaine, Naomi Grant, three federal agencies, and an independent law firm.

“The evidence is out.”

Isabella sank into a chair.

She looked suddenly smaller.

Everything she had protected was already beyond her reach.

Marcus struck the panel again.

Nothing changed.

Khloe focused on breathing through another contraction.

“Stop.”

Marcus turned toward her.

“You’re wasting oxygen.”

“I’m getting you out.”

“No.”

Her voice became firmer.

“Think.”

Marcus looked around the room.

The library had no windows that opened.

The fireplace vent was electronically sealed.

The walls were reinforced because Marcus had once used the room to store private company records.

He had built his own prison.

Richard examined the remote.

“Can Victor see us?”

Marcus looked toward a small black dome in the ceiling.

“Yes.”

Khloe followed his gaze.

“Then talk to him.”

Marcus stood beneath the camera.

“Victor.”

No response came.

Marcus raised Isabella’s phone.

“The evidence is already outside.”

A speaker activated.

Victor’s voice entered the room.

“You should have followed instructions.”

Richard looked toward the camera.

“You corrupted my hospital.”

“I saved it.”

“You stole from it.”

“I funded the expansion you proudly placed your name on.”

Khloe leaned forward through the pain.

“You planned to use my medical records to steal my trust.”

Victor paused.

“Your father was too sentimental to control what he built.”

“You mean he refused to become a criminal.”

“He refused to understand power.”

Marcus stepped closer to the camera.

“Open the doors.”

“No.”

“Khloe is in labor.”

“That may simplify the trust problem.”

Richard’s face changed with horror.

Victor had confirmed what Marcus implied earlier.

If the child did not survive, control returned to Richard.

But Richard was trapped inside the room too.

Khloe understood the final layer.

Victor intended to blame Richard.

A hospital chairman found dead beside his pregnant niece.

A tragic malfunction.

A grieving husband.

The trust thrown into legal chaos.

Victor could acquire the company while every heir fought over the ruins.

“You never intended Marcus to control anything,” Khloe said.

Victor’s silence confirmed it.

Marcus looked toward Isabella.

“You believed him.”

She covered her mouth.

Victor spoke again.

“Isabella always believed whatever made her feel important.”

Her eyes filled with furious tears.

“You promised me a seat on the board.”

“You were useful.”

The same words Isabella had used against Khloe returned to destroy her.

The speaker went silent.

Isabella stared at the remote.

“There is another override.”

Marcus crossed the room.

“Where?”

“The panic room.”

He followed her gaze toward a portrait beside the fireplace.

Marcus pulled it from the wall.

A keypad appeared.

“What is the code?”

“Victor changed it.”

Khloe remembered the hospital archive.

Her father had trusted offline systems and physical backups.

“What did my father use as an emergency code?”

Richard looked at her.

“Your birthday.”

Marcus entered the numbers.

Access denied.

Khloe thought again.

“My mother’s birthday.”

Access denied.

Another contraction tightened.

Khloe closed her eyes.

Then she remembered the name her father had once called his first research project.

Not Thorne.

Hope.

“Enter 4673.”

Marcus did.

The panic room door opened.

Inside was a manual ventilation lever.

Marcus pulled it.

Fresh air rushed through the ceiling vents.

The library doors unlocked.

Richard lifted Khloe.

“Move.”

As they entered the hall, distant sirens approached the mansion.

Samuel looked at his computer.

“Naomi published the first report.”

Marcus stared toward the windows.

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