The freedom felt intoxicating. Escorted by a silent, watchful black sedan driven by Commander Stone's team, Anya Lin was driven away from the suffocating grandeur of the Thorne Estate. This was the first time she had been allowed off the premises as Kaius's wife, and she intended to use every minute of the authorized four-hour window.
The destination was Chloe's Flower Shop, a small, cheerful sanctuary located in a less conspicuous industrial part of the city.
The Best Friend's Safe Harbor
Chloe, Anya's bubbly, loyal best friend, burst out of her shop, her arms wide for a hug. She was the one genuine source of warmth in Anya's current life.
"Anya! Oh my gosh! Mrs. Thorne!" Chloe exclaimed, pulling Anya into a tight embrace. "You look... expensive! But why are you being followed by what looks like the Presidential motorcade?"
Anya squeezed back, savoring the sincere affection. "It's just the Thorne security detail, Chloe. A requirement of the contract, apparently." She glanced pointedly at the silent guards stationed outside the shop. "I'm having a small domestic disagreement with my sister-in-law, Lydia. I just need a moment of peace."
She quickly transitioned to the real purpose of the visit. "The herbal 'remedies' I sent? I can't leave them here any longer. Did you bring the key to the storage unit, like I asked?"
"Yeah, but Anya, Julian was here, demanding to know what was in those boxes! He thinks it's hidden antique art! Why are you in an arranged marriage and playing secret spy with family heirlooms?" Chloe whispered conspiratorially.
Anya adjusted her glasses, giving Chloe a convincing, tired smile. "It's a long story, Chloe. But thank you for protecting them. They're more valuable than anyone knows."
Chloe handed over the key, a worn, simple magnetic card. "Go do your thing, Mrs. Thorne. Just be back before Cinderella's curfew, okay? I'll distract the bodyguards with my new shipment of hydrangeas."
The storage unit was located in a nondescript facility ten minutes away. It was a dusty, windowless space barely larger than a walk-in closet. It was perfect.
Anya dismissed the security detail outside the main facility entrance, citing the need for privacy to "catalog valuable, fragile items." The guards, bored and focused only on the time limit, reluctantly conceded, watching the door from their car.
Inside the unit, Anya locked the door, stripped off the uncomfortable suit jacket, and took off her glasses, letting the Silent Oracle's focused intensity take over.
The "herbal remedies" were actually crates containing:
* Ancient Medical Texts: Rolled scrolls detailing complex pharmaceutical and surgical techniques lost to modern medicine.
* Preserved Ingredients: Vials of rare, concentrated plant and mineral extracts from the Lin family's private (and highly illegal) collection.
* Calligraphy Tools: A collection of brushes, inks, and specialized paper—the tools of the Xiao identity.
This was her Hidden Workshop.
Her first priority was Dr. A. She unpacked a small, portable distillation kit. Her current physical body was still weak, suffering from years of deprivation. She needed a rapid, potent energy booster to stabilize the trauma of the past-life transition and the chronic fatigue.
She quickly prepared a highly concentrated Qi-Nourishing Tincture using just three rare herbs. This wasn't a modern cure; it was an energy flow correction based on ancient principles. She swallowed the bitter liquid. Within minutes, a warmth spread through her core, clearing the lingering mental fog and strengthening her physical resolve.
Much better. The mind of the Oracle is now fully functional in the body of Anya Lin.
Her second priority: The Shadow Syndicate.
Unmasking the Aegis Threat
Anya set up her makeshift, secure Phoenix terminal using the modified smartphone and a cheap, powerful tablet she'd purchased online before the wedding.
She wasn't hacking for the sake of it; she was hunting. She needed to know who was behind the attack on Kaius's Aegis system, because she knew, with terrifying certainty, that this was the modern iteration of the global power her enemies had wielded in her past life.
She traced the Aegis backdoor. The original attack signature was intricate, designed by a true master. But the code structure itself had a distinct, recognizable flaw—a penchant for using ancient numerical sequencing as a key—a signature that had been the hallmark of her former, treacherous disciple, the man who had ordered her death.
It can't be him... not directly.
She didn't believe in direct reincarnation of her enemies, but the pattern was undeniable. She traced the command server, running through a dozen layers of obfuscation. The trail led not to a rival corporation, but to a shell organization operating out of a small, discreet Swiss Private Bank—a bank infamous for money laundering for powerful, hidden entities.
The syndicate wasn't just after Kaius's data; they were establishing a financial chokehold on the Thorne Group to force its acquisition.
Anya smiled grimly. She now had the name of the bank and the shell corporation. This was not just a security breach; it was corporate warfare designed to steal the foundations of Kaius's entire empire.
The Phoenix immediately launched a deep, passive surveillance on the Swiss bank's digital communications, installing a 'silent listener' that would only activate if the syndicate began moving assets.
The Silent Oracle's Next Move
The adrenaline of the successful operation was fading. The limited time was running out. Anya knew her next move had to be carefully managed to maintain the timid Anya Lin facade while solidifying the Phoenix's position.
She changed back into her suit jacket, pocketed her keys, and put her glasses back on. Before leaving, she used one of her advanced inks and a fine brush to practice a single, intricate stroke on a piece of parchment. It was the stylized signature of Xiao—an unparalleled genius whose art was considered culturally invaluable.
She needed to enter the art world for two reasons: wealth and influence. Julian thought she was protecting ancient art. Soon, the world would know she was creating masterpieces.
She locked the storage unit, feeling the weight of the key in her hand—the key to her double life.
As she stepped out of the facility, the security sedan was immediately alerted. Commander Stone's deputy looked at her with suspicion.
"Mrs. Thorne, did you retrieve the items?"
"Yes," Anya said, perfectly selling her exhaustion. "It was exhausting work, Commander. But I am ready to return home."
She settled into the car, not as a prisoner, but as a general returning from a successful strategic foray.
Let Silas Trent and his team waste time hunting a ghost. I've already infiltrated the enemy's financial stronghold.
She looked out the window, watching the city lights blur. She was married to the cold CEO, confined to his house, and under constant surveillance. But she was now armed with a working hidden base, a revitalized body, and critical intelligence on the true enemy.
The fight to save the Thorne Group—and take her revenge—was fully underway.