Chapter 2 - THE BILLIONAIRE IN THE EMERGENCY ROOMKhloe woke to the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor.
For several seconds, she didn't know where she was.
White ceiling.
Thin blanket.
IV line taped to her hand.
Then memory slammed back.
The lobby.
The dizziness.
Lily.
“Lily.”
Khloe jerked upright.
A nurse immediately appeared.
“Easy.”
“My daughter—”
“She's safe.”
“Where?”
The nurse glanced toward the doorway with an expression Khloe couldn't interpret.
“With Mr. Raldi.”
Khloe stared.
That sentence somehow sounded more alarming than reassuring.
She pushed aside the blanket.
“I need to go.”
“You're not discharged.”
“I can't leave my daughter with my boss.”
A small voice came from outside.
“Mommy?”
Lily rushed through the doorway wearing socks that were definitely not hers.
Behind her walked Sylvio Raldi.
Without his suit jacket, he looked less like the man whose photograph occasionally appeared on financial magazines and more like someone who had spent the last hour losing an argument with a vending machine.
He carried three stuffed animals.
Khloe blinked.
Lily climbed carefully onto the chair beside the bed.
“Mr. Raldi got me crackers.”
“I got her crackers,” Sylvio confirmed.
“And apple juice.”
“Yes.”
“And a bear.”
Sylvio looked at the stuffed bear.
“The bear came from the nurse.”
Lily leaned toward her mother.
“He tried to buy it.”
“I offered to pay for it.”
“You said you could buy the whole cart.”
Sylvio closed his eyes briefly.
The nurse suppressed a smile.
Khloe didn't.
Her embarrassment outweighed amusement.
“Mr. Raldi, I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
“You became unconscious.”
“At work.”
“That is generally where I found you.”
Khloe looked down.
“And Lily shouldn't have been there.”
“No.”
The single word made her stomach tighten.
Sylvio pulled a chair closer.
“But a six-year-old hiding behind a desk isn't the part of tonight that concerns me most.”
Khloe glanced up.
“What does?”
“Why you were working with severe hypoglycemia.”
“I mismanaged my medication.”
“The doctor disagrees.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You spoke to my doctor?”
“The physician told me only what you authorized when you were conscious enough to answer.”
Khloe vaguely remembered someone asking whether Sylvio could remain.
She had probably said yes because Lily was sitting on his knee at the time.
“The doctor says your insulin dose was normal,” Sylvio continued. “Your problem was that you hadn't eaten.”
Khloe's face warmed.
“That is none of your business.”
“It became my business when you collapsed in my building.”
“No. It became your liability.”
Sylvio paused.
Khloe regretted it immediately.
But she was exhausted, humiliated, and terrified.
Men like him didn't sit in emergency rooms at three in the morning because they cared.
They sat there because lawyers told them to.
“If you're here because you're worried I'm going to sue—”
“I'm not.”
“Then why are you here?”
Lily looked between them.
Sylvio's answer was quieter than Khloe expected.
“Because your daughter asked me not to leave.”
Khloe turned to Lily.
The girl lowered her eyes.
“I was scared.”
Khloe's anger dissolved instantly.
“Oh, baby.”
She pulled Lily close.
“I'm sorry.”
“You promised you wouldn't get sick.”
“I know.”
Lily's voice cracked.
“I thought you died.”
Khloe shut her eyes.
That sentence cut deeper than anything else.
She kissed Lily's hair again and again.
Across the room, Sylvio looked away.
The doctor returned shortly before four.
Khloe would recover.
She needed food, rest, monitoring, and a more reliable plan to manage her blood sugar during physical labor.
Then came the sentence she dreaded.
“You're lucky someone found you quickly.”
Khloe glanced at Sylvio.
“What happens if he hadn't?”
The doctor hesitated.
“Let's focus on the fact that he did.”
Khloe understood anyway.
After the doctor left, she stared at her hands.
“I need to be back for my shift tomorrow.”
“No,” Sylvio said.
Khloe looked at him.
“You're not my doctor.”
“I own the company employing you.”
“You own the building. ClearPath Facility Services employs me.”
That caught his attention.
“What?”
Khloe frowned.
“ClearPath. The cleaning contractor.”
“I terminated ClearPath's contract fourteen months ago.”
Silence.
Khloe gave a nervous laugh.
“No, you didn't.”
“I signed the termination myself.”
“I've worked for them here for two years.”
“What does your paycheck say?”
Her stomach sank.
“ClearPath Maintenance Group.”
Sylvio leaned back.
Not the same company.
Close enough to fool someone who wasn't looking.
“Who hired you?”
“Curtis Grant.”
Sylvio's expression changed immediately.
“He doesn't work for ClearPath.”
“He said he manages the contractor.”
“He works for me.”
Khloe stared.
Sylvio pulled out his phone.
“When was the last time your hourly wage changed?”
“It hasn't.”
“What do you make?”
Khloe hesitated.
“Eleven seventy-five.”
The transformation in Sylvio was subtle.
His voice remained calm.
His face barely moved.
But something dangerous appeared behind his eyes.
“The minimum contracted wage for night maintenance in this building is twenty-three dollars an hour.”
Khloe almost laughed.
“That can't be right.”
“It is.”
“My pay stub—”
“Do you have one?”
She opened her phone.
After several taps, she found the payroll portal.
Sylvio studied it without touching the device.
ClearPath Maintenance Group.
Eleven seventy-five an hour.
Numerous deductions.
Uniform rental.
Equipment fee.
Administrative fee.
Transportation surcharge.
At the bottom, even a mysterious “facilities access fee.”
Sylvio's jaw tightened.
“You pay for access to my building?”
“Sixteen dollars every paycheck.”
“I have never authorized that.”
Khloe suddenly felt more awake.
“Curtis said everybody pays it.”
“Everybody?”
“Night crew.”
“How many?”
“Thirty-two, I think.”
Sylvio stood.
Lily flinched.
He immediately softened his tone.
“Sorry.”
He stepped toward the hallway and called his chief financial officer.
At 4:11 a.m.
Khloe heard only fragments.
Payroll records.
Vendor authorization.
Grant.
Immediate audit.
Don't alert him.
When Sylvio returned, his expression was unreadable.
Khloe hugged Lily tighter.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“Then what is happening?”
“I think someone has been stealing from you.”
Khloe laughed once.
Bitterly.
“There's nothing to steal.”
“That's the point.”
He placed his phone on the table.
“For eighteen months, Raldi Properties has paid a contractor based on a labor rate nearly double what you're receiving.”
Khloe's face slowly changed.
“No.”
“I don't yet know where the difference went.”
“No.”
“The deductions appear fraudulent.”
She shook her head.
“No, because Curtis always said—”
“Curtis lied.”
The words landed heavily.
Khloe thought of every skipped meal.
Every utility shutoff warning.
Every time Lily's shoes became too small and Khloe made them last another month.
Every overnight shift.
Every bus ride home at sunrise.
Eleven dollars and seventy-five cents.
“What about overtime?” she whispered.
“What overtime?”
“He says cleaners don't qualify.”
Sylvio's expression darkened again.
“How many hours did you work last week?”
“Fifty-six.”
“You were paid forty?”
She nodded.
For the first time since waking, Khloe wasn't embarrassed.
She was furious.
Sylvio studied her.
“I need your help.”
“With what?”
“Finding out how many others he did this to.”
Khloe looked toward the hospital window.
Dawn was beginning to lighten the sky.
“I can't fight people like Curtis.”
“You won't be fighting him alone.”
She looked at him.
“And what happens when this becomes embarrassing for your company?”
“It should be embarrassing.”
That answer surprised her.
Sylvio continued.
“If someone stole from people working under my roof while using my company's systems, I don't get to pretend it doesn't concern me because I didn't personally take the money.”
Khloe's eyes narrowed.
“Rich people usually have lawyers explain why it isn't their responsibility.”
A faint expression passed across his face.
Almost a smile.
“My lawyers frequently find me difficult.”
Despite herself, Khloe laughed.
Lily looked between them.
“Does this mean Mommy doesn't have to clean tonight?”
“No,” Sylvio said.
Khloe started.
“Actually—”
“No.”
“I need money.”
“Your wages continue while you're medically cleared.”
“You can't just—”
“Yes, I can.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm not having another conversation with your daughter about why her mother is unconscious on my lobby floor.”
Lily nodded approvingly.
Khloe stared at both of them.
“You're teaming up against me?”
“Apparently,” Sylvio said.
A knock came at the door.
A man in a charcoal suit entered.
Sylvio recognized him immediately.
His general counsel.
But the attorney wasn't alone.
A frightened woman in a cleaning uniform stood behind him.
Khloe knew her.
“Maria?”
Maria Santos stepped into the room, gripping an envelope.
“I heard what happened.”
Then she looked at Sylvio.
“I have something you need to see.”
Her hands shook.
She removed a stack of photocopied time sheets.
“Curtis told me if I ever showed anyone these, he'd have immigration come after my husband.”
Sylvio took the papers.
The first page showed sixty-three hours worked.
Thirty-eight paid.
The next belonged to another cleaner.
Fifty-nine worked.
Forty paid.
Then another.
And another.
Khloe's heart began pounding.
Maria swallowed.
“He's been doing this for years.”
Sylvio turned to his attorney.
“Lock Grant out of every company system.”
The lawyer raised his phone.
Then Khloe noticed something.
Across the hallway, through the narrow glass window in the emergency-room door, a man disappeared around the corner.
Gray suit.
Heavy shoulders.
A familiar walk.
Khloe's blood ran cold.
“Wait.”
Sylvio looked at her.
“What?”
“That was Curtis.”
By the time security reached the hallway, he was gone.
May you like
And within three minutes, every digital payroll record connected to ClearPath Maintenance Group began disappearing from the company server.
Someone was trying to erase everything.
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