Six People Arrested After Bomb Thrown at Mamdani’s Residence
Six people were taken into custody Saturday after two homemade explosive devices were thrown outside Gracie Mansion during opposing demonstrations near the site, police said. The incident occurred around 12:30 p.m. as anti- and pro-Muslim demonstrators gathered in the area.
Witnesses said dozens of protesters and counter-protesters moved away from the scene after smoke began coming from one of the devices, which appeared to have a lit fuse and was wrapped in duct tape.
No injuries were reported, and no explosion occurred, according to the New York City Police Department. Officers also recovered a second device at the location.
Police said the items consisted of glass jars wrapped in electrical tape that contained bolts, screws, and nuts, along with a hobby-style fuse that could be lit.
Police Commissioner Jessica Tisch said investigators were working to determine whether the devices were functional and whether they contained any explosive material. The investigation is ongoing.
“I always speak about the police running towards the danger when everyone else runs away. Let me be clear, that happened today. Officers, many of whom are here with me, ran toward a man carrying a suspicious device, they put the safety of others and their sworn duty to protect and serve above their own personal safety, and I am grateful that there were no injuries associated with the incident,” she said.
“Today, as always, I thank our police for their noble service,” Tisch added.
The New York Post reported that the NYPD is investigating, along with the Joint Terrorism Task Force, per police sources.
Police said an 18-year-old counter-protester identified as Emir Balat allegedly lit and threw the first device into a crosswalk at the intersection of East 87th Street and East End Avenue during Saturday’s demonstrations.
According to authorities, the device struck a barrier and extinguished itself without detonating.
Investigators said a second individual, tentatively identified as Ibrahim Nikk, 19, allegedly handed the device to Balat before the incident.
Police further allege that Balat later lit a second improvised device, which he dropped while running along East End Avenue between East 86th and East 87th streets.
“We’re not tracking any injuries,” sources told The Post. Police also said reports that one of the devices was a nail bomb are not accurate.
“We’re not going to get into that yet,” a police spokesman told The Post when asked which group brought the devices.
Lang later claimed, “there was an assassination attempt on my life today by two Muslim men, they threw what appears to be a nail bomb — landing a few feet from me and my team. We will never surrender to radical Islam. Jesus is King.”
Mayor Mamdani’s Press Secretary, Joe Calvello, released a statement late Saturday, saying: “The ‘Crusade Against Islamification’ gathering held outside Gracie Mansion today by Jake Lang, a vile white supremacist, was despicable and Islamophobic.
“Thankfully, the Mayor and the First Lady are both safe, though the events are a stark reminder of the threats they both face regularly,” he claimed. “The Mayor has spoken with Police Commissioner Tisch, and the NYPD is actively investigating the protest, counter-protest, and suspicious devices discovered outside Gracie Mansion.”
Meanwhile, Mamdani said Friday that his wife’s private views should not be tied to his leadership of the city after questions surfaced about her social media activity following the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks in Israel.
Mamdani addressed the issue during a news conference after being asked about Instagram posts liked by his wife, Rama Duwaji, The New York Times reported. The activity was highlighted in a report that said Duwaji liked several posts supportive of the Palestinian cause shortly after the Hamas-led attack on Israel.
Israeli authorities say roughly 1,200 people were killed in the attack and 251 people were taken hostage.
SHE THOUGHT KICKING A PREGNANT WIFE IN THE HOSPITAL WOULD END THE MARRIAGE — UNTIL THE BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND SAW THE TRUTH WITH HIS OWN EYES.
The low, vibrating chime of Marcus’s phone seemed to echo in the sudden, absolute silence of the VIP hospital suite. Outside the large glass windows, the distant murmur of the charity fundraiser gala continued, a stark contrast to the thick, suffocating tension that had gripped the room.
Marcus slowly pulled the phone from his tuxedo pocket. His eyes never left Isabella as his thumb swiped across the screen, playing the high-definition security footage sent directly by his head of security.
On the screen, there was no ambiguity. There was no "self-defense." The footage clearly showed Isabella lunging at me, her face twisted in a mask of pure malice as she shoved my seven-month-pregnant body into the side table. It showed the champagne glass shattering, and most horrifying of all, it captured the exact second her pointed red heel drove brutally into my abdomen while I lay helpless on the floor.
A muscle ticked violently in Marcus’s jaw. The cold, calculated billionaire who ran Thorne Enterprises—the man who prided himself on being five steps ahead of every competitor, every investor, and every enemy—looked completely paralyzed by the sheer weight of his own blindness.
"Marcus, honey, you can't believe whatever she's trying to play at," Isabella stammered, her voice rising an octave as she took a tentative step toward him, her hands reaching out to touch his lapel. "Khloe has been unstable for weeks. She’s jealous because she knows you don't love her. She staged this! She threw herself into that table just to make me look like a monster!"
"Get away from her," Marcus whispered.
The words were so quiet, so devoid of emotion, that Isabella froze mid-step.
"What?" she blinked, her polished, glamorous facade cracking completely.
"I said," Marcus raised his head, his piercing dark eyes locking onto hers with a lethal, suffocating intensity that made the gala coordinator behind him take a step back into the hallway, "get your hands off me, and step away from my wife."
"Marcus—"
"Michael!" Marcus roared, his voice cutting through the room like a physical blow.
Instantly, three burly men in dark suits and communication earpieces pushed past the coordinator into the room. The leader, Michael, looked at the blood on the floor near my maternity gown and his expression hardened into stone.
"Sir?" Michael asked, his hand resting near his holster.
"Secure Isabella Rossi," Marcus commanded, his voice trembling with a terrifying blend of absolute authority and suffocating rage. "Take her to the holding room in the basement. If she attempts to leave, if she attempts to make a single phone call, use whatever force is necessary. Notify the Chief of Police that I am filing charges for attempted murder and felony assault on a pregnant woman."
"Attempted murder?!" Isabella shrieked as Michael and another guard gripped her upper arms, effortlessly pinning her arms behind her back. Her expensive red dress twisted around her frame as she struggled against their grip. "Marcus, you can't do this to me! My father is your primary investor! If you lock me up, the Rossi Group will liquidate every single share of Thorne Enterprises by midnight! You'll be ruined!"
Marcus didn't even look at her as she was dragged out of the room, her high heels scuffing loudly against the hardwood floor, her screams fading down the private VIP corridor.
The moment the doors hissed shut behind her, Marcus dropped to his knees on the carpet, completely ignoring the shards of broken glass that sliced into the expensive fabric of his tuxedo. His hands were shaking violently as he reached out toward me, but he stopped short of touching me, as if terrified that his very presence would cause me more pain.
"Khloe..." he breathed, his voice raw, stripped entirely of the smooth arrogance he usually carried. "Khloe, look at me. I’m here. I’m right here. Don't close your eyes."
A searing, blinding pain tore across my lower abdomen, making me gasp for air. I tightly curled into a ball on the floor, my fingers digging into my white maternity gown, which was rapidly staining with a terrifying, deep crimson hue.
"The... the baby," I choked out, a tear spilling over my eyelid and mixing with the sweat on my forehead. "Marcus... he’s not moving. Please... help him."
"Medical team!" Marcus screamed toward the door, his composure breaking entirely as he saw the blood. "Get the Chief of Obstetrics up here right now! If anyone hesitates, I will burn this entire hospital to the ground!"
Within seconds, the room was swarmed by medical staff in blue scrubs. A gurney was pushed to my side, and I was carefully lifted onto it. As the world began to blur around the edges from the sheer agony and blood loss, I felt a strong, calloused hand wrap tightly around mine.
Marcus was running alongside the gurney as they pushed me toward the emergency operating theater. His face was pale, his eyes wide with a horrific realization that had come far too late.
"I've got you, Khloe," he pleaded, his voice cracking as he squeezed my hand. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Just hold on. Please, just hold on for our son."
I looked up at the harsh fluorescent lights of the ceiling as the heavy double doors of the operating room swung open. Our son, he had called him. For months, Marcus had treated this pregnancy like a corporate obligation, a cold arrangement to secure his family’s legacy while he allowed Isabella to whisper poison in his ear. But as the darkness finally rushed in to swallow me whole, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: if my baby didn't survive this night, there would be nothing left of Marcus Thorne’s world to salvage.
