The sunlight filtering through the dense security glass of the Thorne Estate was cold and unforgiving. Anya, still playing the role of the silent, nervous bride, was subjected to breakfast in the formal dining room—a sterile, silent affair opposite Kaius, who was consuming black coffee and frustration in equal measure.
Kaius's tablet, propped beside his plate, displayed the latest updates on the security threat. Anya knew the feed. It showed the imminent arrival of the external security contractors.
"They'll be here in twenty minutes," Kaius finally stated, his voice tight. "The Aegis system is critical to our Q4 projections. If this 'Phoenix' character is legitimate, we need to contain the breach before the Board hears a whisper."
He looked directly at Anya, his eyes sharp with suspicion, yet finding only the timid reflection of his wife behind thick lenses. "I expect you to remain in your room. Do not speak to anyone on the security team. Do you understand? They are specialists, not guests."
"Yes, Mr. Thorne," Anya murmured, perfectly conveying the fear of being in the way. Perfect. He's clearing the field for me.
A roar of heavy engines announced the arrival of the external team. They were the Graystone Security Group—sharks in tailored suits, led by the notorious Mr. Silas Trent.
Silas Trent was a man who reeked of expensive leather and arrogant competence. He strode into the study with a team of six analysts, bypassing pleasantries.
"Mr. Thorne," Trent's voice was a deep, dismissive rumble. "We have analyzed the anonymous warning. It's sophisticated. But we handle this caliber of digital terrorism daily. We'll trace the source and neutralize the backdoor by the end of the day."
Kaius nodded, pointing to the security console. "The source demands to be let in as a consultant called 'Phoenix.' They claim to have already fixed the threat."
Trent scoffed, running a disdainful hand through his graying hair. "A negotiation tactic. They create the problem, then sell the solution. We will not be extorted. We go dark, we lock down, and we hunt the ghost."
As Trent began setting up his own proprietary security hardware—a slow, noisy process—a sudden, subtle notification chimed on the central Thorne network terminal.
It was an encrypted message, displayed only on the secured console Trent was trying to bypass.
Sender: Phoenix
Subject: Remediation 1.0 Complete.
The message was brief and devastating:
> "Your primary firewall is currently running at 110% capacity. Your secondary firewall has been re-routed through a secure, non-Thorne server. Your internal threat detection system now uses a zero-day protocol to flag the exact signatures of the initial breach. You owe me five million. We are now colleagues. Phoenix out."
>
Silas Trent's face went white. He slammed his hand on his own terminal. "Impossible! We were locked down! How did they...?"
Kaius stared at the screen, a primal, dangerous thrill replacing his frustration. He had hired Trent to fix the problem. Phoenix had already done it, and with a speed and complexity Trent couldn't comprehend.
Kaius ignored Trent's sputtering and immediately typed a reply into the console: Confirm. Provide evidence of fix.
The response was instantaneous: Run diagnostics on Aegis sub-router K-7. Check data integrity and trace the flow. You will find it is currently clean.
Kaius ordered his internal engineers to run the specific diagnostic. The results were flawless. The system was clean, and more secure than it had been a day ago. Trent's jaw hung open.
"They just broke into my system, patched it, and told me how good they are," Trent muttered, humiliated. "This isn't a hacker; this is a digital architect."
Kaius looked at the screen, then at the empty hallway. He had just married a fool, but his company had just been saved by a ghost demanding five million dollars and a consulting role.
While Kaius was facing a digital revolution in his study, Anya was in her room, monitoring the internal security chat logs. She smiled faintly, knowing the chaos "Phoenix" had wrought.
A text arrived from Chloe, her best friend.
> Chloe: 🤯 OMG Anya! Your cousin Julian just came to my shop with his fiancée, demanding to know where I took those "old family boxes." He was furious! I kept saying they were 'herbal remedies'! What is going on, Mrs. Thorne?!
>
Anya typed back immediately. She needed to solidify Chloe's resolve and confusion.
> Anya: Julian is trying to steal my grandmother's old art. He thinks she hid some paintings in the herbal boxes. Please, Chloe, you are the only one who can keep them safe from him. Don't let him touch them! I'll come later to move them. Thank you, you're the best! 🤫
>
Anya had now provided Chloe with the perfect cover story for her secret activities (art preservation) and ensured that Julian would be redirected away from the true contents (Dr. A's medical supplies).
She then secured a temporary Uber account and arranged to visit Chloe's storage unit that evening—using her minimal allowance money.
The Crazy Sister-in-Law Strikes
Mid-morning, the fragile peace of the mansion was shattered by a wail of histrionics from the hallway.
Lydia Thorne, Kaius's unstable younger sister, burst into Anya's room without knocking, trailed by her personal assistant. Lydia was dressed impeccably, but her face was flushed with manufactured outrage.
"You! You pathetic little gold-digger!" Lydia shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at Anya.
Anya rose meekly from her small sitting chair. "Miss Thorne? Is something the matter?"
"Don't play innocent! My finance advisor just pulled out of my new luxury fashion line! He said his funding was revoked because of 'unstable market factors' linked to Thorne Group's recent volatility!" Lydia was practically vibrating with rage. "You planted that gossip yesterday, didn't you? You told Julian about the old breach, and now he's talking!"
Anya backed away slightly, her eyes wide with terror, selling the 'victim' part flawlessly. "I swear, Miss Thorne, I only said I heard 'gossip'! I didn't say anything to Julian this morning!"
"Oh, I'll bet you did!" Lydia marched across the room and swept Anya's few personal effects off a small desk, sending the cheap clock, a pen, and the empty wooden box clattering to the floor. "This is a warning! Stop poisoning my family with your Lin trash!"
The assistant gasped, but Lydia merely gave Anya a final look of pure malice and stormed out.
Anya remained frozen until the footsteps faded. Then, she calmly bent down and retrieved the wooden box. The dramatic intervention was an unexpected gift. Lydia had just provided the perfect cover for Anya's next action: legitimate anger and a desire for independence.
Anya immediately put on a stylish, but conservative, traveling suit she had brought with her and called Commander Stone.
"Commander Stone," Anya's voice was now firm, shaking slightly, but with a new edge of righteous indignation. "Miss Lydia Thorne has just trespassed in my personal space and destroyed my property. I understand this marriage requires me to tolerate a certain level of inconvenience, but I was explicitly told I must maintain my 'physical and mental disposition.' I cannot do that here."
Stone remained stoic on the other end. "Mrs. Thorne, I must consult Mr. Thorne before you leave the premises."
"You may," Anya cut in, her voice surprisingly strong. "But you will also inform Mr. Thorne that if I am physically threatened and prevented from maintaining my mental state, I will interpret this as a breach of the PNA's implicit terms for cohabitation and will be consulting my own legal counsel. I require time away. I am going to the one place I have always felt safe: my friend Chloe's flower shop, to sort through my things."
The last part was delivered with the perfect blend of weakness and defiance.
Commander Stone immediately put her on hold to consult with Kaius. Five minutes later, the line clicked back.
"Mr. Thorne has authorized your departure, Mrs. Thorne," Stone stated, the disapproval in his voice palpable. "A security detail will escort you, and you must return by 10 PM. You are permitted to engage in non-competitive employment at your own discretion."
Anya smiled inwardly. The Loopholes are open.
She had leveraged Lydia's rage to gain freedom of movement and sanctioned time off the premises—two things a shackled bride should never have. The Phoenix was free to fly.