The Body

Isabella stood in the doorway. Shaking. Her perfect hair was messy. Her dress was wrinkled. She looked like someone who had just seen a ghost.

Or a corpse.

Rex was already moving. Gun in hand. He grabbed my wrist. Pulled me off the bed.

Stay behind me, he said.

I did not argue. I grabbed my dress from the floor. Pulled it over my head. No underwear. No time.

Isabella led us down the hall. Through the kitchen. Past Mrs. Park's room. Her door was closed. Light underneath. She was awake. Listening.

We reached the east wing. Victor's room. The door was open.

The smell hit me first.

Death has a smell. Sweet. Rotting. My mother's hospital room had smelled like that at the end. I stopped breathing through my nose.

Rex went in first. Gun raised. He scanned the room. Then lowered the weapon.

He is alone, Rex said. No one else.

I stepped inside.

Victor Thorne sat in his armchair. His hands were folded in his lap. His eyes were closed. He looked like he was sleeping. But his skin was gray. His lips were blue. And the smell was coming from him.

He has been dead for hours, Rex said. Maybe a full day.

Isabella stood in the doorway. She was crying now. Real tears or fake? I could not tell.

I touched his face. Cold. Stiff.

This is not my father, I said.

Isabella stopped crying. What?

I turned to her. The man who came to dinner tonight. The man who touched your knee under the table. That was not Victor Thorne.

Rex moved to the window. Checked the lock. Checked the frame.

She is right, he said. This body has been dead at least twelve hours. Dinner was three hours ago.

Isabella's face went pale. Then her eyes narrowed.

You are lying, she said. You killed him. Both of you. This is a trick.

Rex pulled out his phone. Took a picture of the body. Sent it to someone.

We will know soon enough, he said.

I walked closer to the body. Looked at the hands. The face. The clothes.

My father had a scar on his left hand. A knife wound from a deal gone wrong. I remembered watching him bandage it when I was ten. He had cried out when the alcohol touched it. I had felt nothing.

This body had no scar.

I showed Rex. He nodded.

Isabella, I said. Come here.

She did not move.

Come here, I said again. Louder.

She walked over. I took her hand. Forced her to look at the left hand of the corpse.

Where is the scar? I asked.

Isabella stared. Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

I do not know, she whispered.

You have been sleeping with him for three years, I said. You know his body. You know every inch. Is this him?

She looked at the face. The hands. The chest. Her breath came faster.

No, she said. Her voice broke. This is not him.

Rex's phone buzzed. He read the message. His jaw tightened. A muscle jumped in his cheek.

The body double, he said. His name was Marco. Worked for your father for fifteen years. He was paid to pretend.

Pretend what? I asked.

Rex looked at me. His eyes were dark. Flat. The kind of dark that came from knowing something terrible before you had to say it.

To be Victor Thorne. For the past three years.

The room tilted. Three years. That meant...

Your father has been dead for three years, Rex said. Marco was the man in the mansion. The man who signed documents. The man who attended meetings. The man who...

He looked at Isabella.

The man you have been sleeping with.

Isabella stumbled back. Hit the wall. Slid down to the floor.

No, she said. No, no, no.

I felt nothing for her. She had sold me to a stranger. She had betrayed me for power. She had chosen her father over her sister.

But even I would not wish this on anyone. Sleeping with a corpse's puppet. Touching a dead man's double. Building a life on a lie.

Who killed him? I asked.

Rex crouched next to the body. Examined the neck. The wrists. The corners of the mouth.

No visible wounds, he said. No blood. No bruising.

Poison? I asked.

Possible. We will need an autopsy. But not tonight.

Isabella was crying now. Sobbing. Her makeup ran down her face in black streaks.

I loved him, she said. I loved him and he was not even real.

Rex stood. Looked at her. His face was cold. No pity. No mercy.

Someone has been running the Thorne empire for three years, he said. Someone who knew your father was dead. Someone who had access to Marco. Someone who could make him pretend.

We all looked at each other.

The same person, I said slowly, who arranged this marriage. Who gave me to you as payment. Who has been watching from the shadows.

Isabella stopped crying. Her eyes cleared. Something flickered there. Recognition? Fear? Guilt?

Mother, she whispered.

I frowned. Our mother is dead.

Isabella shook her head. No. She is not.

The air left my lungs. I could not breathe. The room pressed in.

Your mother, Isabella said, pointing at me. My mother. She is not dead. She faked it. She has been hiding for ten years.

Rex moved to my side. His hand found mine. Squeezed.

Mira, he said. Look at me.

I could not. I was staring at Isabella. At her mouth. At the words coming out of it.

You are lying, I said.

I am not, Isabella said. She came to me three years ago. After Father... after Victor died. She told me everything. The affair. The plan. The body double.

My mother had an affair? With who?

Isabella laughed. It was a broken sound. Hollow. Mad.

With Victor's brother. Your real father. You are not a Thorne, Mira. You never were.

I sat down on the edge of the dead man's bed. The mattress was cold. The sheets were clean. Someone had made the bed around the corpse.

My mother. The woman who whispered secrets on her deathbed. The woman who told me to build an army in the dark. The woman who made me promise to destroy my father.

She had been alive this whole time.

Where is she? I asked.

Isabella shrugged. I do not know. She disappeared six months ago. Left me in charge. Told me to keep the empire running.

And the body double? Rex asked. Who controlled him?

Isabella hesitated. Looked at the floor.

Who? Rex demanded. His voice was sharp. A blade.

I did, she said. I gave him orders. I told him what to say. What to do. Who to touch.

She looked at me. Her eyes were empty. Hollowed out.

I slept with him because she told me to. She said it would keep me close to power. She said Victor never loved me anyway. He was not my real father either.

My head was pounding. Too many secrets. Too many lies. My mother. My sister. My husband. Everyone had been playing a game. And I was the only one who did not know the rules.

Rex pulled me to my feet. His arm was steady around my waist.

We are leaving, he said. Now.

But the body, I said.

Let Isabella deal with it. She has been dealing with everything else.

He pulled me toward the door. Isabella called after us.

You cannot just leave! What am I supposed to do?

Rex did not look back.

Figure it out. You are the one who wanted power.

We walked back to our room in silence. The hallway felt longer than before. Darker. Every shadow looked like a person. Every creak sounded like a footstep.

Rex closed the door. Locked it. Leaned against the wood.

Say something, he said.

I sat on the edge of the bed. My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking.

My mother is alive, I said. My whole life. My whole revenge. It was all built on a lie.

Rex crossed the room. Knelt in front of me. Took my hands in his.

It was not a lie, he said. Your father. Victor. He was still a monster. He still killed people. He still ruined lives.

But he did not kill my mother.

No. She killed herself. Faked her death. Used you.

The words hit like a slap. Like a bullet. Like a knife between the ribs.

She used me, I repeated. For ten years. She used me.

Rex squeezed my hands. His thumbs rubbed circles on my palms.

Then we find her, he said. And we make her pay.

I looked at him. This man who married me for revenge. This man who knew my secrets before I told him. This man who just watched my whole world shatter and did not run.

Why? I asked. Why do you care?

He touched my face. Wiped away a tear I did not know I had fallen.

Because you are my wife, he said. Because I chose you. Because for the first time in my life, I want something more than power.

I want you.

I kissed him. Soft. Slow. Not like before. Not desperate. Just real.

When I pulled back, his eyes were soft. Almost human.

What now? I asked.

He stood. Pulled me up.

Now, he said, we find your mother. And we finish this.

My phone buzzed. Lin.

I read the message. My blood went cold. My heart stopped. Then started again too fast.

Your mother is not alone. She has been working with someone. Someone inside Rex's house.

I looked up at Rex. He saw my face. His hand went to his gun.

What is it? he asked.

We have a traitor, I said. Here. In this house.

His face went hard. The softness was gone. The predator was back.

Who?

I do not know yet. But Lin is looking.

Rex walked to the door. Opened it. The hallway was empty. Too empty.

Then we wait, he said. And we watch.

And we do not trust anyone.

Not even each other? I asked.

He looked back at me. His eyes were unreadable. A wall had gone up between us.

Especially not each other.

He walked out. The door clicked shut behind him.

I stood alone in the room. The bed still smelled like us. My body still remembered his hands. My lips still tingled from his kiss.

But trust? That was a luxury I could not afford.

Not anymore. Not with a traitor in the house. Not with a mother who had faked her death. Not with a husband who looked at me like I was both his salvation and his enemy.

I lay down on the bed. Stared at the ceiling.

The camera was gone. No red light. Isabella had stopped watching.

But someone else was watching now.

Someone closer.

Someone I might have kissed goodnight.

I closed my eyes and did not sleep.