Trump: 'The war with Iran will soon be over'
President Trump declared that the U.S. and Israel had achieved their goals and that the war with Iran would soon end, but did not set a specific date.
"We're doing a small sortie because we felt we needed to do it to get rid of some people. You'll see that this will only be a short operation," U.S. President Donald Trump said at a press conference in Doral, Florida on March 9. This was his first question-and-answer press conference since launching the airstrike campaign against Iran on February 28.
When a reporter asked about the possibility of the U.S. ending the operation this week or in a few days, the White House occupant responded, "No, but soon, very soon," without setting a specific time.
Trump said the war with Iran "will soon end." Video: C-SPAN
The White House occupant reiterated claims that the U.S. and Israel had destroyed Iran's navy, air force, and missile program, but noted that they still have much work to do. "We've won in many ways, but it's not enough," he continued, calling for a "final victory" against Iran.
When reporters pressed him further on the statement, President Trump explained that his goal was to get Iran to agree not to develop nuclear weapons.
"That's when Iran looks at this guy and says, 'Okay, we're not going to do that,'" Trump said, referring to U.S. Special Envoy for the Middle East Steve Witkoff, the U.S. representative in negotiations with Iran regarding Tehran's nuclear program. According to the President, Iranian officials "were not willing to say that" during the negotiations.
Trump argued that Iran's nuclear capabilities had significantly weakened after the U.S. and Israeli attacks. He stated that in the long term, Iran would no longer be able to develop weapons capable of attacking the U.S., Israel, or its allies. The President added that last year's U.S. airstrikes on Iranian nuclear facilities had set Tehran's program back.
President Trump expressed "disappointment" that Iran had chosen Mojtaba Khamenei, the son of the late Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, as its Supreme Leader.
"We believe that choice will only lead Iran to continue facing its old problems," Trump continued.
The US leader declined to comment when asked whether Iran's new Supreme Leader was being targeted. Speaking to NBC News and the New York Post earlier, President Trump also called Iran's decision to choose Mojtaba a "big mistake" and said he was "not happy."
Israeli military spokesman Effie Defrin warned that same day that they would kill anyone who threatened Tel Aviv. "I won't comment on the force's plans. I'm just saying that anyone who creates a risk, who threatens Israeli citizens, will be targeted," Defrin declared.
A series of tit-for-tat attacks in the Iran conflict. Click to view details
A series of tit-for-tat attacks in the Iran conflict. Click to view details
The Iran conflict has lasted 10 days. The fighting has resulted in over 1,700 deaths across the Middle East, with Iran reporting over 1,200 deaths and nearly 490 deaths in Lebanon.
The situation risks further escalation as the US and Israel expand their attacks from political and military targets to civilian industrial facilities in Iran. Tehran has retaliated, causing damage to numerous oil and energy infrastructures in the Middle East.
Iran has declared the closure of the Strait of Hormuz, through which approximately 20% of the world's oil passes, and attacked about 10 cargo ships transiting the strait. Military action has forced shipping companies to abandon routes through Hormuz, causing world oil prices to skyrocket. On March 9, Mr. Trump said that the US was keeping open the possibility of controlling the strait to ensure the safety of maritime traffic.
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.
