Pregnant Woman Stomped in Hospital Room, Husband Slaps Attacker Before Secret Security Camera Exposes Worse Truth

Chapter 07 - The Unknown Benefactor

Twenty minutes later, Khloe was moved to a high-security VIP suite on the top floor of the hospital—a room guarded by four armed Rossi security guards and accessible only via a private keycard elevator.

Khloe lay resting peacefully under warm blankets, exhausted from the day’s intense ordeal.

Marcus stood outside the suite in the private hallway, leaning against the wall with Captain Miller and Carlo Rossi.

“Miller,” Marcus said quietly, staring down at the tablet display. “You told me earlier that your security team accessed the live cloud backup for Room 402.”

“That’s correct, Mr. Vance,” Miller nodded.

“Who authorized the installation of a pinhole camera inside a private patient room three weeks ago?” Marcus asked, his eyes narrowing. “Federal medical privacy laws strictly prohibit surveillance cameras inside private patient care areas unless ordered by a federal court warrant.”

Captain Miller pulled up the camera’s digital installation log on his tablet.

“I checked the IP routing address right after the police left,” Miller revealed, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “The camera wasn't installed by St. Jude Hospital. It was hardwired into the ceiling conduit during the room’s renovation three weeks ago by a third-party contractor.”

“Who paid the contractor?” Carlo asked, his hand hovering near his shoulder holster.

Miller tapped the screen, displaying a digital receipt and a signed work order.

At the bottom of the work order was a digital signature that made Marcus’s heart stop dead in his chest.

The signature read: ARTHUR VANCE.

Marcus felt the blood drain completely from his face. His knees felt weak.

Arthur Vance was Marcus’s father—the founder of Vance International—who had supposedly died in a private helicopter crash off the coast of Maine two full years ago.

“My... my father?” Marcus stammered, his voice shaking uncontrollably. “That’s impossible... my father’s funeral was two years ago! I buried him!”

“Mr. Vance,” Captain Miller whispered, showing him a secondary data log attached to the camera feed. “This camera feed wasn't just uploading to our hospital local server. It was broadcasting a live, encrypted stream to an IP address located inside a private estate in Portland, Maine.”

Marcus grabbed the tablet from Miller’s hands, staring at the live transmission logs.

Every single second of what had happened in Room 402 today—Isabella’s attack, Dr. Harrison’s confession, the poisoning attempt—had been watched in real time by someone living in Maine.

Before Marcus could speak, his smartphone buzzed violently in his jacket pocket.

He pulled it out with trembling hands. The screen displayed an incoming call from an unlisted, encrypted satellite number.

Marcus tapped the green button and put the phone to his ear.

“Marcus?” a deep, gravelly, familiar voice echoed through the speaker—a voice Marcus hadn't heard in two long years.

Marcus squeezed the phone so hard the glass screen cracked slightly.