The knock on the door came early the next morning, sharp and insistent. Lila was the first to reach it, her heart sinking as she opened it to find a woman she didn't recognize. She was in her early fifties, with piercing eyes and an air of authority that made Lila hesitate.
"Can I help you?" Lila asked cautiously.
The woman's gaze swept over her, then the house, before landing squarely on Jacob, who had just walked into the room. His face went pale at the sight of her.
"Jacob," the woman said, her voice clipped. "It's been a long time."
Lila turned to her father, her confusion deepening. "Who is she?"
Jacob hesitated, his hands clenching at his sides. "Lila… this is Vivian. Emily's sister."
Lila's heart skipped a beat. Emily—Jacob's first wife.
Vivian stepped inside, brushing past Lila without waiting for an invitation. "I've been looking for you for years, Jacob," she said, her voice sharp. "You disappeared after Emily's death and now I find out you're here, living on some ranch?"
Jacob sighed heavily, running a hand through his graying hair. "I didn't think you'd want to see me. I thought you blamed me for what happened."
"I did," Vivian admitted, her voice softening slightly. "But time has a way of changing things. I've had questions, questions I need answers to."
Lila felt like an outsider in her own story, watching as these two people from a life she'd never known confronted each other.
"What kind of questions?" Jacob asked, his voice guarded.
Vivian's eyes flicked to Lila. "About her."
The room fell into an uneasy silence.
"What do you mean?" Lila asked, stepping forward.
Vivian hesitated, then reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope. She handed it to Lila, who opened it with trembling hands. Inside was a birth certificate.
Her birth certificate.
"What is this?" Lila whispered, her eyes scanning the document. But as she read the details, her breath caught in her throat.
The father's name listed wasn't Jacob Monroe.
"It's not possible," Lila said, her voice breaking. She turned to Jacob, who looked as stunned as she felt. "You're my father. You said you were my father!"
"I thought I was," Jacob said, his voice shaking. "Your mother told me you were mine. I didn't—" He stopped, his words failing him.
Vivian crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "Emily told me something before she died, Jacob. She suspected there was more to your relationship with Lila's mother than you let on. But I didn't know it would lead to this."
Lila's mind raced, her world spinning out of control. "If you're not my father… who is?"
Jacob's face darkened, his voice low. "I think I know."
Later that evening, Jacob sat Lila down in the kitchen, his hands trembling as he held a mug of coffee. Damon stayed close, his presence a silent comfort, while Aiden lingered outside, respecting her need for space.
"There was someone else," Jacob admitted. "Before I met your mother, she was involved with a man named Charles Blackwell. He was… powerful, wealthy. But their relationship ended badly. She never spoke about him much after we got together.
"Charles Blackwell?" Lila repeated, her mind reeling. "Why didn't she tell me?"
"She probably wanted to protect you," Jacob said. "Charles wasn't a good man, Lila. If he is your father…" He trailed off, his expression grim.
"What do I do?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Jacob reached out, placing a hand over hers. "We'll figure it out. Together."