Truth and Lies.

The room was softly lit, with the blazing fire in the hearth providing the only source of warmth as Dorian sat in the hefty leather chair, holding an untouched glass of whiskey. His jaw clenched as he gazed at the flickering flames, his thoughts repeating every word from his intense conversation with Ana at the gallery. The discovery of the twins had rocked him to his core, but it was Ana's expression—raw sorrow combined with defiance—that tormented him the most.

His phone buzzed on the side table, interrupting his thoughts. The name on the screen made his stomach turn: Lila Moreau. He let it ring. Again. And again. Until last, he grabbed it and responded.

"What do you want, Lila?" His tone was harsh and clipped.

"Dorian, don't be like that," Lila's seductive voice purred across the telephone. "You have been avoiding my calls. I was simply wondering whether everything was alright."

"Everything is far from okay," he said abruptly. "I told you I needed space. "Stop calling me."

There was a pause, a little hesitation before Lila spoke again. "You sound stressed. Is it about her?

He tightened his grasp on the glass. "Don't you dare say her name."

"Fine," Lila said, her tone becoming chilly. "But I believe you are forgetting what I have done for you. Without me, your dominion would have fallen years ago. Dorian, you owe me more respect than this.

Dorian gave a harsh laugh. "Respect? Do you seek respect after telling lies? After what you've done to her?

"I didn't do anything," Lila said, her voice wavering. "Ana left on her own." Dorian, she couldn't handle your world. I was available when you needed someone. "Do not rewrite history."

"Don't lie to me, Lila," he said, his patience fraying. "I'm finished playing this game. Do you think I don't know what you did? You twisted me and drove her out of my life. "I see it now."

The quiet on the other end was deafening, but Dorian persevered. "You told me falsehoods about her. You made me believe she was the one harboring secrets, and that she was the reason we were coming apart. All along, you were the one tugging the strings."

"Dorian," Lila said, but he cut her off.

"No, you should listen to me. I am not sure what you expected to gain, but you have cost me more than you can fathom. His voice sank, his wrath and sadness obvious. "I've lost my wife. I lost five years of my kids' life. And for what? So you can work your way back into my life? "Into my company?"

"I loved you," Lila snarled, her composure breaking. "I loved you before she existed. I deserved to have you back.

Dorian laughed harshly, devoid of warmth. "Love? Is that what you're calling it? You don't know anything about love, Lila. Love is not manipulation. Love is not a lie. You don't wreck someone's life while calling it love."

Lila's breathing was erratic now, and her usual measured manner had slipped. "Do you think she's perfect?" That small, innocent act of hers. But she is not as blameless as you believe, Dorian. She kept your kids from you. "For five years."

"Because she didn't have a choice!" he said, slamming the glass on the table. The harsh shatter of a broken crystal filled the room. "She ran to protect herself from individuals like you. From me. And if I had seen it sooner—" He paused, his voice cracking.

Lila's voice was gentle and almost plaintive. "You are mistaken, Dorian. I was attempting to protect you. You were vulnerable following your father's death, when all you had created was threatened. I stepped in because I cared.

"You stepped in because you saw an opportunity," he stated coldly. "You exploited my grief, my vulnerability, to manipulate me. But it is over, Lila. "Any power you thought you had over me is gone."

Before she could react, he cut the conversation and flung the phone onto the couch. His chest heaved as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and face buried in his hands. The weight of reality was oppressive.

---

Across town, Ana sat at her kitchen table, looking at the same picture that had unintentionally drawn Dorian back into her life. Hazel sat across from her, her look mixed with concern and irritation.

"You need to tell him everything," Hazel remarked, breaking the long pause. "He deserves to know the full truth."

Ana shakes her head. "I cannot. Not yet. He's not the same man I know. I noticed it in his eyes, Hazel. There is rage, but there's also something else. Regret, perhaps. Guilt. I'm not sure if I can trust him.

"And what about the twins?" Hazel pressed. "They are starting to raise inquiries, Ana. "They, too, deserve answers."

Ana's chest clenched. "I know," she whispered. "But what if he attempts to seize them? "What if he uses his power and money to take them from me?"

Hazel reached across the table, grasping Ana's hand in her own. "He cannot accept them, Ana. For the past five years, you have been their mother, their everything. "No court in the world could separate you."

Ana wanted to trust her, but the worry persisted. Dorian's homecoming had resurfaced memories she had fought so hard to suppress. And now the reality she had battled to conceal was threatening to undermine everything.

The sound of a knock on the door made both women jump. Hazel scowled, gazing at the clock. "Who would come by this late?"

Ana's pulse raced as she stood, her thoughts turning to the enigmatic man in the woods. She approached the door warily, her fingers quivering as she grabbed for the doorknob.

When she opened it, Dorian was there on the other side.

"Ana," he whispered softly, his expression inscrutable.

Her initial reaction was to slam the door, but his next words stopped her.

"We need to talk," he added, moving closer. "I know the truth now. About Lila. Almost anything.

Ana's breath seized in her throat. "What are you talking about?"

"I was a fool," he said, his voice full of sorrow. "I allowed her to distort my head, poison my thinking. She led me to believe you were the problem. But I see it now. She was the one twisting the ropes and telling me falsehoods."

Ana's eyes narrowed. "Do you expect me to forgive you?" "Just like that?"

"No," he said swiftly. "I don't anticipate anything. I simply need to make things right. For you. "For the twins."

"You don't get to walk back into my life and act like the past doesn't matter," Ana replied, her voice quivering. "You don't get to rewrite history."

"I'm not trying to rewrite anything," he stated, his voice cracking. "I'm attempting to repair what I broke. Thank you, Ana. Let me in. Let me assist."

Ana hesitated, a battle burning within her. She wanted to believe him, to accept the genuineness in his gaze. But the wounds he had left were deep, and the scars were not simply healed.

Finally, she moved back, her voice strong. "You have 5 minutes. And don't think for one second that I'm letting my guard down."

Dorian nodded and walked into the home, his presence filling the space like a storm on the horizon. As the door clicked shut behind him, Ana couldn't ignore the sensation that this discussion would change everything, for better or ill.