Thessaly's Point of View
The dead woman standing in Caspian's penthouse is very much alive.
And she's beautiful.
Lydia Thorne—my aunt, Caspian's supposedly dead ex-wife—stands in the elevator doorway like she owns the place. Blonde hair perfectly styled. Designer dress. Red lips curved in a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
"Surprise," she says, stepping into the room. "I know, I know. You all thought I was dead. Funny story, actually."
Caspian looks like he's seen a ghost. Which, I suppose, he has.
"You're dead," he says, voice flat. "I saw the death certificate. The police report. The burial—"
"The burial of an empty coffin, darling." Lydia laughs. "Did you really think I'd die that easily? In some boring car crash?"
"The DNA evidence—"
"Belonged to a very unfortunate woman who happened to be driving my car. Wrong place, wrong time." She examines her nails. "I needed to disappear. You were getting too close to finding me. So I arranged an accident."
My brain is trying to catch up. "You killed someone. To fake your own death."
"I prefer 'borrowed her identity permanently.'" Lydia's eyes slide to me. "And you must be the new Mrs. Holt. My niece, Thessaly. How sweet. Caspian's keeping it in the family."
Rage floods through me. "You're my mother's sister."
"Half-sister, technically. Different fathers. Your grandmother had questionable taste in men." She moves further into the room, completely at ease. "I haven't seen Petra in years. How is my dear sister? Still obsessed with appearances?"
"Still lying to her daughters," I snap. "She told me you were dead too. Everyone did."
"Well, I was. Legally speaking." Lydia sits on Caspian's couch like she belongs there. "For three years, I've been living quite happily in the Maldives under a new name. New face, thanks to an excellent surgeon. New life."
"Then why come back?" Caspian's voice is deadly quiet. "Why reveal yourself now?"
"Because you two got married." Her smile sharpens. "And I can't let that stand."
Vesper, who's been silent until now, steps forward. "You're admitting to faking your death and identity fraud. I'm recording this conversation. Everything you've said is evidence."
"Record away, darling. I don't care." Lydia crosses her legs. "Because I have something much better than evidence. I have leverage."
"What leverage?" I ask.
She pulls out her phone and shows us a photo. It's Caspian, younger, holding a gun. Standing over a man who's bleeding on the ground.
"Remember this night, Caspian? Seven years ago, right after we got married?"
Caspian's face goes white. "That's not—you know that's not what it looks like."
"What I know and what a jury would believe are two different things." Lydia's voice is poison-sweet. "That's Thomas Holt. Your uncle. The man who's currently trying to take your company."
I stare at the photo. "You shot your uncle?"
"He defended himself," Vesper says quickly. "Thomas broke into Caspian's home, attacked him. It was self-defense. The police cleared it."
"After I convinced them to," Lydia says. "I was his wife. I gave a statement saying Thomas attacked first. That Caspian had no choice. Without my testimony, the investigation would have gone very differently."
Caspian's jaw tightens. "You're blackmailing me with your own testimony."
"I prefer 'renegotiating our agreement.'" She stands up, moves closer to him. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to get this marriage to Thessaly annulled. Immediately. Then you're going to remarry me."
"Absolutely not."
"Then I go to the police. Tell them I lied about that night. That I was scared of you, coerced into giving false testimony. That you actually attacked Thomas in cold blood." She taps her phone. "I have evidence you've been paying me hush money for years. Bank transfers, emails, all fabricated but very convincing."
"You're insane," I say.
"I'm practical." Lydia looks at me. "Nothing personal, niece. But Caspian and I have unfinished business. And you're in the way."
Caspian steps between us. "You get nothing. No remarriage. No money. Nothing."
"Then you get arrested for attempted murder." She shrugs. "Your choice. But decide quickly. I'm filing the police report tomorrow morning unless I see annulment papers first."
"You won't do it," Caspian says. "If you admit you lied before, you'll be charged with obstruction of justice. Perjury."
"Minor charges compared to attempted murder. I'll take a plea deal, serve maybe a year in a minimum-security facility. You'll serve ten to twenty in a real prison." Lydia smiles. "Do the math, darling."
My mind races. This woman faked her death, killed someone, and now she's back to destroy Caspian. And me.
"Why?" I ask. "Why do any of this? You already stole from him. You were free. Why come back?"
Lydia's expression shifts. Something dark flashes in her eyes.
"Because he cut me off. Froze my accounts. Left me with nothing." Her voice turns bitter. "I had to kill someone and steal her identity just to survive. Had to get surgery to hide. Lost three years of my life hiding from him."
"You stole from him first!" I can't believe this woman. "You took millions—"
"He owed me!" Lydia shouts, composure cracking. "I married him. Played the perfect wife. Smiled at his boring business dinners. Pretended to love him. That's worth something!"
"Not ten million dollars," Caspian says coldly.
"It's worth whatever I say it's worth." She breathes hard, trying to calm herself. "And now I'm collecting the rest. You're going to sign over half your company to me, Caspian. As settlement for our divorce."
"We were annulled. You get nothing."
"Then we'll just have to get remarried so I can divorce you properly." Her smile returns. "Either way, I'm getting what I'm owed."
Soren, who's been standing by the elevator, speaks up. "You realize we're not just going to let you walk out of here after confessing to murder, right?"
"You realize I have copies of all my evidence stored in multiple locations, right?" Lydia counters. "Anything happens to me, everything goes to the police automatically. Letters, photos, videos. All showing Caspian as a violent criminal."
She heads toward the elevator. "You have until noon tomorrow. Annulment papers and a new marriage contract, or I destroy you."
The elevator doors close behind her.
For a long moment, nobody moves.
Then Caspian punches the wall. His knuckles split, blood smearing on the white paint.
"Caspian—" I reach for him but he pulls away.
"Don't." His voice is raw. "Just don't."
"We can fight this," Vesper says, already typing. "Her confession about faking her death—"
"Means nothing without proof she killed someone. And she's smart enough to not leave proof." Caspian stares at his bleeding hand. "She planned this. All of it. Probably the moment she saw our wedding announcement."
"So what do we do?" I ask.
He looks at me, and my heart breaks at the defeat in his eyes.
"We get the marriage annulled. Like she wants."
"No." The word comes out fierce. "Absolutely not."
"Thessaly, she'll send me to prison—"
"She'll try. But we're not giving up." I grab his shoulders, force him to look at me. "You promised me revenge on my family. I'm promising you the same. We fight her. Together."
"You don't understand what she's capable of—"
"I understand perfectly. She's a liar, a thief, and a murderer." I hold his gaze. "And I'm done letting liars win."
Something shifts in his expression. Hope, maybe. Or just desperate need to believe.
"We have twelve hours," Vesper says. "To find proof she's lying about the Thomas Holt incident. To expose her fake death. To destroy her before she destroys us."
"How?" Caspian asks.
"I don't know yet. But we start with—" Vesper's phone rings. She answers, listens, and her face goes pale. "Oh no."
"What?" I demand.
She turns her laptop around.
Breaking news headline: LYDIA THORNE HOLT RETURNS FROM THE DEAD, ACCUSES BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND OF ATTEMPTED MURDER
Below is a statement from Lydia. With photos. With her fabricated evidence.
She didn't wait until tomorrow. She went straight to the press tonight.
"She played us," Soren says quietly. "The whole thing in the elevator was a performance. She was already releasing this."
My phone buzzes. My mother calling.
I answer. "What?"
"Thessaly." Her voice is sharp. "I just saw the news about Lydia. About what your new husband did to his uncle."
"He didn't do anything. She's lying—"
"She's family. And family protects family." My mother's words are ice. "Come home. Now. Before you're dragged down with him."
"I'm already home. With my husband."
"Thessaly, don't be stupid. This man is dangerous. He'll destroy you like he destroyed Lydia—"
"Lydia destroyed herself." I'm shaking with rage. "And you're helping her. Did you know she was alive? All these years, did you know?"
Silence. Then: "That's not important."
"You did know. You knew and you let everyone think she was dead."
"We protected her!" My mother's control cracks. "She came to me three years ago, terrified. Said Caspian was hunting her. We helped her disappear, paid for her surgery, her new identity. We saved her life!"
Everything clicks into place.
"You've been planning this. You, Lydia, Elowen. All of you." My voice is deadly quiet. "Getting me to marry Caspian was part of the plan, wasn't it? You wanted me close to him so Lydia could destroy him."
"Don't be ridiculous—"
"Elowen's engagement announcement. The timing was perfect. You knew I'd find out about Jareth. Knew I'd run. Knew Caspian would be there to catch me because you made sure he was."
"Thessaly, you're being paranoid—"
I hang up.
Look at Caspian, at Vesper, at Soren.
"My family set us up. All of it. From the beginning."
"Why?" Caspian asks.
Before I can answer, the elevator dings again.
We all freeze.
The doors open.
My father steps out. Not threatening this time. He looks tired. Old.
"Thessaly," he says quietly. "I need to tell you the truth. About Lydia. About Caspian. About everything."
He pulls out an envelope. Hands it to me.
"Your mother doesn't know I'm here. But you deserve to know what really happened seven years ago."
I open the envelope.
Inside are photos. Documents. Evidence.
And one page that makes my blood run cold.
It's a birth certificate.
For a baby girl. Born seven years ago.
Mother: Lydia Thorne Holt.
Father: Caspian Holt.
I look up at Caspian, the paper shaking in my hands.
"You have a daughter?"
His face tells me everything.
He had no idea.