Chapter 8 - What Damian Wanted Recorded
Damian refused to answer questions at first.
Khloe changed that.
She instructed Vincent to have hospital security escort him into the conference room.
Damian entered without resistance.
Marcus stood near the window.
Khloe sat across the table.
Elaine remained outside with police.
Khloe placed the security still image in front of Damian.
“You selected Suite 1412.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the camera.”
“Yes.”
“You expected Isabella to follow me.”
“Yes.”
Marcus exploded.
“What the hell were you doing?”
Damian barely looked at him.
“Correcting your mistake.”
Marcus stepped forward.
Vincent blocked him.
Khloe raised her hand.
“Let him talk.”
Damian looked at her.
“I knew Isabella was becoming unstable.”
“You created the situation.”
“I introduced an ambitious woman to my son.”
“I did not force him into her bed.”
Marcus looked away.
Damian continued.
“Three weeks ago, Marcus ended the relationship.”
“Isabella began threatening him.”
“She said she would expose everything.”
“She also said she would destroy you.”
Khloe’s fingers tightened around the table.
“So you knew I was in danger.”
“I knew she wanted confrontation.”
“And instead of warning me, you arranged one.”
“I arranged evidence.”
The words landed heavily.
Damian had deliberately positioned Khloe inside a camera-monitored room.
He had instructed Elaine to direct Isabella there.
He expected Isabella to expose herself.
“You used me as bait.”
“Yes.”
Marcus slammed his fist onto the table.
“She’s pregnant.”
“I was monitoring the situation.”
“You weren’t in the room.”
“No.”
Damian’s voice faltered for the first time.
“I underestimated Isabella.”
Khloe stared at him.
“You underestimated how violent the woman you helped put into my marriage could become.”
Damian did not argue.
“Why?”
“Because once Isabella was exposed, Marcus would finally understand what his weakness had cost him.”
Marcus laughed in disbelief.
“This was a lesson?”
“It was supposed to be.”
Khloe leaned back.
Her exhaustion was becoming overwhelming.
Yet one question remained.
“The incapacity plan.”
Damian’s face changed slightly.
Marcus noticed.
“So that part is true.”
Damian remained silent.
Khloe pushed the strategy memo toward him.
“You wanted temporary control of my trust.”
“I wanted stability.”
“There’s that word again.”
“If thirty-one percent of Thorne Global suddenly passes to someone with no operating experience, markets will panic.”
Khloe stared at him.
“You could have spoken to me.”
Damian almost smiled.
“You spent ten years deliberately avoiding the business.”
“Because everyone told me it belonged to Marcus.”
“That does not make you qualified.”
“No.”
Khloe’s voice was quiet.
“But it makes me the owner.”
Damian’s expression hardened.
That was the moment Khloe understood him.
This had never been about protecting the company.
It was about control.
Damian could tolerate incompetent men if they obeyed him.
What he could not tolerate was an independent woman holding enough shares to remove him.
Vincent placed a document on the table.
“The trust vote happens Monday.”
Damian looked at it.
Khloe noticed his confidence return.
“Yes.”
“And I assume you think tonight changes that.”
“It does.”
“How?”
Damian looked directly at her.
“Because you are currently hospitalized after a traumatic incident.”
“You are emotionally distressed.”
“You have admitted no understanding of your own trust.”
“And tomorrow morning, two independent physicians will receive a request to evaluate your capacity.”
Marcus went pale.
“You already filed it.”
Damian nodded.
Khloe felt anger rise.
Damian stood.
“You have until nine tomorrow morning.”
“After that, control of your trust may pass temporarily to your husband.”
Khloe looked at Marcus.
Marcus stared at his father.
Then he said something that wiped the confidence from Damian’s face.
“No.”
Damian frowned.
Marcus removed his phone.
“If authority passes to me, I’ll immediately transfer every vote back to Khloe.”
Damian laughed once.
“You cannot.”
Marcus looked at him.
May you like
“I already changed the corporate proxy agreement.”
Damian stopped smiling.
