“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to commit the body of our son, brother, husband, father, and friend to the earth.”
The priest’s words settled over the crowd like dust, heavy and unavoidable. I stood between my husband and his adopted sister, Rose, my hands folded. Beside me, Rose wore her mourning black like a tailored lie, the dark fabric clinging to the slight, scandalous swell of her belly. Her five-year-old son, William Thornley, stood at her skirts, looking solemn for once, almost as if he knew exactly what was going on.
The casket sat a few feet away, polished and closed.
“May his soul rest in peace,” the priest droned.
Rest. I doubted Ray Thornley would find a second of rest six feet under, not after the way he’d been sent there. Around us, the mourners dabbed their eyes and whispered of "tragedy" and "fate” and “badluck”. No one noticed the way my jaw ached from clenching, or how my nails bit into my palms until the skin nearly broke.
I hadn't been close to my brother-in-law, but I knew he would still be breathing if it weren't for the woman standing to my left.
"Oh!" A jagged wail ripped through the air, shattering the forced silence.
My eyes darted to Rose. She was collapsing, a torrent of performative grief. "If only I knew!" She sobbed, throwing herself toward the damp earth. "If only I’d known!" She cried more, thrashing her hands in the air.
I felt nothing but a cold, hard knot of disgust.
I watched as my husband, Caspian Thornley, maneuvered around me without a second thought. He rushed to Rose’s side, his arms wrapping around her with a frantic, desperate heat. He pulled her head to his chest, shielding her from the stares of the elite.
"It was all my fault," Rose wailed into his expensive suit.
"Yes, it is." The voice was laced with pure venom.
We all turned to see old Lina Adams, mother to Ray. Her face, usually beautiful and serene, was a mask of contempt.
"If you had not force him to take that dangerous air diving where his parachute failed, he would still be alive with us today!" Lina screamed, her finger trembling as she pointed at the widow.
Rose's face was flushed with embarrassment as the guests stared at her. She stood up, her stance suddenly unyielding. She approached the older woman, reaching out to squeeze her hand in a show of 'comfort.'
"You have every right to be mad at me, Mother. But I lost my husband, too. We are both drowning in this."
I couldn't help the sharp snort that escaped me. Anyone else would see a grieving daughter-in-law but I saw a masterclass in manipulation.
"You're right," Lina said, her features deceptively composed. Then, with a sudden burst of strength, she flung Rose’s hand away. "And I am going to be mad at you for the rest of my life!" She slapped her own chest, clutching at her heart as she wailed.
I moved to go to her, but Rose was faster, stepping back into Lina’s space.
"Do not come near me!" Lina yelled. When Rose took another step, the older woman raised her hand, palm flat and ready to strike.
"Rose! No!" Caspian roared.
In a flash, he threw himself in front of Rose, his large frame acting as a human shield. The sound of the slap echoed through the cemetery, sharp and rhythmic.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Murmurs turned into a low roar of scandal. Even Lina froze, her hand shaking as she realized she had struck the wrong person.
"Caspian, what are you doing?" His mother, Mrs. Thornley, hissed from the sidelines, her mouth a thin, disgruntled line.
"No one has the right to touch her," Caspian declared, his voice booming with a protective authority that made my blood run cold. He touched the red mark on his cheek, his eyes fixed solely on Rose.
I stood there, a spectator to my own husband's obsession. To the crowd, this was a shocking display of chivalry - a brother protecting his sister. To me, it was the final confirmation of the secret I’d discovered three days ago.
I had flown from Los Angeles to New York to surprise him for our third anniversary. I’d had it all planned - the restaurant, the gift, the red dress I was "dressed to the teeth" in. I was standing outside his office door, hand on the knob, when I heard his best friend, Mark, speaking inside.
“Why are you still here today, of all days?” Mark had asked.
“What’s special about today?” Caspian’s voice had been flat, annoyed.
“Your anniversary, man.”
Caspian had scoffed, a sound full of bitterness. “I want nothing to do with that woman. You know that.”
“It’s been three years,” Mark protested. “You can’t keep your distance from your own mate forever.”
“I can, and I will,” Caspian snapped. “I promised her I wouldn't touch Seraphina.”
“Her?” Mark’s voice rose in shock. “You don’t mean... you’re still fooling around with your adoptive sister?!”
“It isn't fooling around when we love each other!” Caspian had yelled back.
Something screeched the floor before silence reigned for a second.
“Rose is married to someone else, for crying out loud! She has a son, and is currently pregnant.”
Except for the continuous tapping on the table, silent rented the room.
“Why the hell will she ask you not to make love to your own mate and start your own family when she has one of her own? If she truly wanted you, she shouldn't have allowed her husband to touch her either.”
Caspian was silent.
“You are the Alpha, Caspian. Sooner or later, the Elders and the pack members will start demanding for a heir.”
Again, there was no response from Caspian.
“And if Seraphina tells her brother?”
“She won't. She hasn't spoken to him since we married. She’s got no one.”
I had staggered back from the door, bile rising in my throat. I fled the building into a torrential downpour, catching the first flight back home while shivering with a fever that nearly broke me over the next forty-eight hours.
"I get that you're mourning, Mrs. Adams. But so is Rose. At least, think of your grandson before hurting his mother," Caspian’s voice snapped me back to the cemetery.
I didn't wait for the rest of the show. I turned and walked straight to the waiting car. "Colt, drive me home," I told the driver.
"Yes, ma'am."
The ignition hummed, but before we could pull away, the door was wrenched open. I looked up to find Caspian standing there, looking like a tragic hero in his black wool suit.
"I'm going home, Caspian. I'm tired," I said, my voice dead.
He didn't get in. Instead, little chubby William scrambled past him, his muddy shoes ruining the pristine leather seats. "Auntie! Give Mom and me a ride!"
I looked up. Rose stood at the door, her eyes downcast, playing the fragile widow to perfection.
Caspian leaned in, his voice dropping to that persuasive tone he used to close multi-million dollar deals. "Her family is still furious with her. It isn't safe to go back to the old mansion. Let Rose and the boy stay with us for a while."
I stared at him, no words coming forth.
"Besides," he added, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. "You always said you wanted a child. Think of this as practice."
The sheer, staggering audacity of it almost made me laugh. He wanted me to play nanny to his mistress while he comforted her in my guest room.
"Fine," I whispered, flinching away from his fingers. "Let them stay."
The ride home was a hazy blur. The moment we arrived, I retreated to my room and locked the door. I pulled out my phone and dialed the one person who could help me end this.
"Is it ready, Angela?" I asked the moment she picked up..
"Yes," my best friend - the best divorce lawyer in the country - answered grimly. "Are you sure about this, Sera? I know how much you used to love him."
"I am certain," I said, watching the rain start to streak against the window. "I’ll come get the papers tomorrow."