Caspian's Point of View
I watch Thessaly's face drain of color as she reads the text message.
"What is it?" I ask, already knowing it's another attack.
She looks up at me with eyes full of fear. "Is Lydia dead?"
The question hits like a physical blow.
"Yes," I say quietly. "She died three years ago."
Thessaly takes a step back. "And you're the reason why?"
"That's what they want you to think." I move toward her slowly. "Thessaly, let me explain—"
"Explain what? That you killed your ex-wife? That I'm marrying a murderer in six hours?"
"I didn't kill her!" The words come out harsher than I mean. I force myself to breathe. "Lydia died in a car accident in Monaco. She was drunk, driving too fast, crashed. I was in New York when it happened. There are witnesses, police reports, everything."
"Then why would someone say you're responsible?"
"Because I cut her off financially a week before she died." The guilt surfaces. "After she stole from me and fled, I spent two years tracking her down. Found her in Monaco, spending my money. I froze her accounts. One week later, she was dead."
Thessaly's breathing quickens. "So you didn't kill her directly. You just took away her money and she died."
"She made her own choices. Getting drunk, getting behind the wheel—that was on her."
"But if you hadn't cut her off—"
"She'd still be spending money she stole from me!" My control snaps. "I didn't force her to drink. Didn't force her to drive. I took back what was mine. That's all."
"You don't sound very sorry she's dead."
The observation cuts deep because it's true.
"I'm not sorry," I admit. "Lydia destroyed me. Married me for my company, stole millions, disappeared. She never loved me. So no, I'm not sorry she's gone."
"That's cold."
"That's survival." I meet her eyes. "You want me to pretend I'm heartbroken? I won't lie to you, Thessaly. Not about this."
She's quiet for a long moment.
"Show me the police reports," she finally says. "Everything about Lydia's death."
I pull out my phone. Send her the files I've kept for three years. Proof I was nowhere near Monaco. Proof it was an accident.
She reads them. "These say she was alone in the car. Blood alcohol level three times the legal limit. No signs of foul play."
"Because there was no foul play."
"But you feel guilty anyway." Not a question.
I don't answer.
"Your family is trying to scare you," Vesper says. "Medical records, old photos, now murder accusations. They want you too afraid to fight back."
"It's working," Thessaly whispers.
"No." I step closer. "It's not. Because you're still here. Still standing. Still planning to marry me and destroy them tomorrow."
"Am I?" She looks at me. "How do I know this isn't what happened to Lydia? That you won't use me and discard me?"
The question hurts.
"You don't know," I say honestly. "You're taking a risk. But here's the difference between you and Lydia—you know what this is. A contract. A deal. No love, no lies. Just two people helping each other survive."
"And when the year is up?"
"You get your money and freedom. I get my company. We both walk away."
"That simple?"
"That simple."
She studies me. Weighing options. Calculating risks.
"One more question. Did you love her? Lydia?"
"I thought I did," I admit. "I was twenty-nine. Stupid. Lonely. She was beautiful and charming. I mistook attention for love."
"And now?"
"Now I know better. Love is a weakness. Something people use against you." I hold her gaze. "I won't love you, Thessaly. Won't pretend to. But I will protect you. Give you everything I promised. That's worth more than love."
Something shifts in her expression. Understanding.
"Okay," she says quietly. "I believe you."
Relief floods through me. "So we're still getting married?"
"We're still getting married. But Caspian—" She steps closer. "If you ever cut me off like you did Lydia, I won't get drunk and crash a car. I'll destroy you first."
A smile tugs at my mouth. "Noted."
The next hours are chaos. Vesper coordinates with the judge. Soren arrives with clothes. A photographer is hired. Press releases written.
Through it all, I watch Thessaly transform. She's not broken anymore. She's focused. Sharp. Dangerous.
When she emerges in a simple ivory dress, my breath catches.
She's stunning.
"Will this work?" she asks.
"It's perfect."
At 4 PM, we stand before a judge. Soren and Vesper witness.
The judge asks if I take Thessaly as my wife.
I look at this stranger who's trusting me with her future.
"I do."
He asks if she takes me as her husband.
She doesn't hesitate. "I do."
We're pronounced husband and wife.
"You may kiss the bride."
I look at Thessaly. She nods slightly.
I kiss her. Brief, professional. But something sparks between us.
Dangerous.
We sign the certificate. Take photos. Smile like we're happy.
"Congratulations," Vesper says. "Try not to kill each other before the year is up."
"No promises," Thessaly says, smiling.
We return to the penthouse. Vesper sends the press release.
Within an hour, my phone explodes with calls.
And one from a blocked number.
I answer. "Holt."
A woman's voice, distorted. Mechanical. "Congratulations on your marriage, Caspian. Such a rushed ceremony."
"Who is this?"
"Someone who knows what you did to Lydia. What you're planning to do to Thessaly." Cold, artificial. "You think you're clever. Marrying into the Thorne family again. But history repeats. And this time, everyone will know the truth."
"What truth?"
"That you killed Lydia. That you're going to kill Thessaly too. When I'm done, you'll lose everything."
The line goes dead.
I stand there, ice flooding my veins.
Someone knows about Lydia. And they're coming for me through Thessaly.
I turn to find my wife watching.
"Who was that?" she asks.
Before I can answer, her phone rings.
She looks at the screen and goes pale. "It's Jareth. From the Plaza."
"Don't answer it."
She answers anyway. Speaker on.
Jareth's voice fills the room. "Thessaly. I saw the news. You married Caspian Holt? Are you insane?"
"That's rich coming from you."
"This is a mistake. He's using you. Everyone knows about him and Lydia Thorne."
"You mean the aunt you never mentioned you knew?" Thessaly's voice is ice. "Funny how that works."
Silence. Then: "What are you talking about?"
"Lydia Thorne was my aunt. You knew her. You knew Caspian was married to her. And you never said a word."
"I didn't think it mattered—"
"Everything matters, Jareth." She looks at me while talking to him. "I'm married now. To a man who's honest about what he wants. So you and Elowen can have your perfect life. I'm done."
She hangs up.
We stare at each other.
Then Vesper's laptop chimes. She curses.
"What?" I ask.
She turns the laptop around.
A news article. Posted five minutes ago.
BILLIONAIRE CEO CASPIAN HOLT MARRIES THESSALY CRANE HOURS AFTER THREATENING TEXT MESSAGES SURFACE
Below are screenshots. Text messages between me and an unknown number.
Messages I never sent.
Messages that say: If you don't marry me, I'll destroy your family like I destroyed Lydia.
And: Sign the contract or everyone learns what your father did. I have proof.
Messages threatening Thessaly into marriage.
Making me look like a monster.
"I never sent these," I say, voice shaking. "Thessaly, I swear—"
"I know." She's staring at the screen. "Because I have my phone records. These came from a spoofed number."
"But the press doesn't know that," Vesper says grimly. "By tomorrow, this will be everywhere."
My phone rings. My grandmother's lawyer.
"Mr. Holt, we have a problem. Your grandmother saw the article. The accusations. She's demanding you come to the hospital immediately. And if you can't prove these messages are fake..." He pauses. "She's threatening to revoke the marriage clause. To give the company to your uncle regardless."
Everything I've worked for. Gone.
I look at Thessaly. My wife of three hours.
"I'm sorry. I dragged you into this."
She sets her jaw. "No. We're in this together now. We fight together."
"This could destroy both of us."
"Then we make sure it destroys them first." Fire in her eyes. "Who's doing this, Caspian? Who wants us both to fail?"
Before I can answer, the elevator dings.
Someone's coming up. To my private penthouse that requires a key card.
Soren moves toward the elevator, tense.
The doors open.
A woman steps out.
Blonde. Beautiful. Familiar in a way that makes my heart stop.
No.
It can't be.
She smiles. That same smile from seven years ago.
"Hello, darling," Lydia says. "Did you miss me?"