Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 148: Family Drama

Chapter 148: Family Drama

Ansel, an old man who had survived more than a century, was as dangerous as he was cunning.

His schemes were like a weight pressing down on Lyra, and his immense psychic power added to the suffocating atmosphere in the room.

Lyra’s spine stiffened for a moment under the pressure, but she quickly recovered, a sarcastic smile tugging at her lips. "After nearly dying in our own house, I suppose it’s only natural I’d keep a bodyguard close."

Ansel, leaning on his cane, chuckled softly, his tone that of a doting elder. "You were always a difficult child, Lyra."

To anyone else, his voice might have sounded warm, almost affectionate, but Lyra knew better. This was the same man who had once tricked her into drinking the Dispersal Agents, the poison that had scattered her powers and shattered her future.

Standing beside Ansel, Kail suddenly let go of Ansel’s arm as if the contact had scalded him.

He had seen the raw hatred in Lyra’s eyes, and it unsettled him. His hand dropped to his side, fingers curling into a tight fist as he recalled what he’d discovered recently—how Dr. Brian, once the head of the Legion Skywalkers’ medical team, had mysteriously disappeared twelve years ago.

Kail knew now that the Shedd family had done something to Lyra back then.

The revelation gnawed at him.

Lyra, her face still frozen in a mask of indifference, cut through the tension with her words. "The difference between us is that I’ve learned my lesson. You, on the other hand, seem to have learned nothing."

On the surface, it could’ve passed for casual conversation, but the cold gleam in their eyes betrayed the deep hostility simmering beneath.

Patrick, meanwhile, had practically collapsed onto the couch, his earlier psychic battle with Mr. Frei leaving him dazed and unnoticed by the others.

From the side hallway, several more figures emerged—men and women of the Shedd family, each holding key military positions. Then came two elderly figures, their snow-white hair catching the light as they entered the room.

The sight of them made even Mr. Frei stiffen, his normally calm demeanor faltering for a brief moment.

These were the Shedd seniors—legends of the family who had long since stepped back from public life.

Lyra glanced at Mr. Frei, who subtly tugged at the lapel of his jacket, a quiet signal to let her know he could still extract her if needed.

Only then did Lyra allow herself to exhale softly. She had taken a gamble coming back here, but never one that would risk her life without a way out.

All eyes in the room were on her now, especially the two elders. They didn’t bother to hide the mixed emotions in their gazes.

Once, Lyra had been the family’s rising star, a prodigy whose talents had placed her on equal footing with the admiral’s son. But now, after all the betrayal and abandonment, the only thing that connected her to the Shedd family was deep-seated enmity.

Despite their curiosity, no one had ever figured out why Ansel had acted so ruthlessly toward Lyra all those years ago.

The mystery lingered, but no one dared ask.

Ansel, reclaiming his place as the family head, broke the silence. "Now that everyone’s here, let’s some food."

Lyra’s eyes scanned the room, her gaze sharp. "I don’t see Frenna anywhere."

The name hung in the air like a challenge.

Frenna—the aunt who had cursed Lyra and played a role in her downfall.

The way Lyra spoke her aunt’s name, with no respect, made the two elders frown in disapproval. But Ansel, as always, knew exactly what Lyra was after. His cold stare met hers. "You won’t be seeing your aunt for some time."

The curse Frenna had placed on her—one that choked her voice and kept the truth locked away—was still very much intact. The Shedds had no intention of letting her find a way to break it.

Lyra’s lip curled slightly in contempt. "Then there’s no reason to stay for dinner." She turned on her heel, ready to leave the house and everything in it behind.

But before she could take another step, Ansel’s voice, sharp and calculating, echoed after her. "Aren’t you curious about what your mother left for you?"

The question stopped her in her tracks.

Back then, her mother, Seren, had left more than just money behind. There were pieces of her legacy, secrets, things that might clear her parents’ names.

Lyra had spent years searching for answers, and Ansel knew this better than anyone. It was the one card he still had to play.

Ansel’s eyes gleamed, knowing he’d hit a nerve. He continued, his voice low and authoritative. "Your mother left behind something valuable—something you’ve been searching for. And now, you might actually get it."

Lyra slowly turned, her eyes narrowing. "So, the great Vice Admiral Shedd has finally grown a conscience? Or is this just another one of your games?"

Her words hung heavy in the air, the room thick with tension. Everyone knew Lyra wasn’t leaving now, not until she got what she came for.

Kail felt as though the ground had fallen away beneath him. His mind reeled, the weight of Lyra’s words crashing over him like a tidal wave.

Years ago, he had been the one to hand over their mother’s bank account password, believing—naively—that the money would be used to help Lyra recover from her injuries. But she hadn’t touched a cent. And then she vanished, leaving nothing behind but confusion and silence.

Lyra had been only fifteen at the time, gravely wounded and vulnerable. ’How did she even survived after that?’ Kail thought to himself.

The realization came too late. His voice cracked, breaking through the heavy tension in the room. "Grandpa, you promised me! You said you’d use the money to help Lyra get better!"

But neither Ansel nor Lyra paid him any mind. Both cast him nothing more than fleeting glances before ignoring his outburst entirely. His words echoed uselessly in the vast hall, leaving him feeling like a fool.

"The money went into Kail’s training," Ansel replied smoothly, his tone calm, as though the answer was obvious. "There were other things left behind, though."

Kail staggered, the words hitting him even harder than before. He had been tricked—he knew that now. The realization was like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him.

Lyra’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. "And what, exactly, do you mean by that?" she asked, her voice sharp. "And why did you change the password, Grandpa? After I was injured, I had nothing. No money, no family. I was left bleeding and penniless in the streets—only to be trafficked to Voidstar No. 2."

Her words struck like a whip. Could anyone believe such a story? That Lyra Shedd, once the prized daughter of the Shedd family, had ended up being trafficked after nearly dying? The sheer horror of it silenced the room.

Her eyes flicked toward Kail, and the look in them sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t understand it—what had happened back then? Why had their grandfather treated her like this?

Maids continued to bring out dishes, their movements efficient and deliberate, but the tension in the air was palpable.

The entire room seemed frozen in disbelief, the weight of Lyra’s accusation hanging over everything like a storm cloud.

How could someone with such promise have suffered so terribly?

Ansel remained unfazed, his thoughts drifting briefly to the past, to when she had escaped his control years ago.

His voice, cold and condescending, finally broke the silence. "If you behave yourself, I will return what is yours."

It was as if he were speaking to a child, someone he could manipulate at will.

Lyra’s head tilted slightly, her smile dripping with mockery. "I was nearly dead, and you took everything from me," she said, her tone growing frostier by the second. "Now you want to give it back? Even you can’t believe that nonsense."

Her voice sharpened as she continued, "But according to the Alliance’s inheritance laws, I’m of age now. Those assets legally belong to me. Why not just hand them over now? It’d save me the trouble of taking you to the military courts."

Ansel’s face darkened as he realized she wasn’t bluffing. Lyra’s smile only grew wider, feeding off his discomfort. "What’s wrong, Vice Admiral Shedd? Do you disagree?"

"I’ve already said..." Ansel began, but he hesitated, his eyes narrowing. He knew better than to think Lyra was speaking without a plan. She was always calculating, always one step ahead. The realization made him wary.

At that moment, the butler hurried into the room, breaking all protocol as he leaned down to whisper something in Ansel’s ear.

Immediately, the old man’s grip on his cane tightened, the tension rippling through his body.

His cold, calculating gaze fixed on Lyra, and for a brief second, murderous intent flickered across his face. But it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a forced smile of resignation.

"My dear child," Ansel said, stroking the polished handle of his cane, his voice now dripping with false sincerity. "Do you really believe I would covet what rightfully belongs to you? You must understand, your parents were involved in... serious matters. Their assets needed thorough examination. At the time, you were still underage, and someone had to take responsibility."

He sighed, his tone tinged with fake regret. "In the end, I suppose it’s my fault. I failed your father, and I failed you."

Had he figured out her intentions? If so, Lyra didn’t seem bothered in the least. She was far from discouraged. "No need to dwell on the past, Grandpa," she replied smoothly. "I’ve suffered enough. If you give me back what’s mine and let me finish my education without interference, I won’t ask for anything more."

Ansel knew this was no empty request. The look in her eyes made it clear—this was her final offer. She would either reclaim her inheritance peacefully, or she would tear everything down to get it.

Erin, standing off to the side, clenched her fists so hard it seemed like her knuckles might crack. Her face twisted in fury as she shouted, "You make so much money already, Lyra! How hard can it be to pay for college on your own!?"

"Erin!" Ansel’s sharp rebuke cut through the room like a whip, his eyes narrowing with icy authority. "Those things belong to her, not you. Keep your mouth shut."

His words hit Erin like a slap, and she flinched under the weight of his gaze. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why Ansel’s attitude had changed so drastically.

Ansel had always been cold, calculating, but this? Defending Lyra?

Lyra, watching it all with cold detachment, pulled out her opticomputer with an air of finality. "Then let’s complete the transfer right now."

Her voice was calm, businesslike. It was clear she had come prepared for this moment.

Ansel, who prided himself on never being caught off guard, took a beat longer than usual to respond.

The tension in the room thickened as he tried to maintain his composure, the faintest crack of irritation visible in his eyes before he regained control.

"Greg," he commanded, his tone tight with forced calm, "handle the transfer to her."

The butler stepped forward, his hands trembling slightly as he took the opticomputer from Lyra.

Meanwhile, the internet was already in an uproar.