The chandelier's radiance illuminated the huge ballroom with a golden color, throwing a strange light over the extravagant event. Anastasia "Ana" Ravenscroft stood near the great staircase, her emerald-green gown clinging to her body like a second skin. The outfit was Dorian's choice—a designer masterpiece intended to highlight her elegance and, maybe, to tell the world that she belonged to him. Or so she thought.
Ana looked around the room, taking in the sea of dazzling faces. The elite of society mixed with practiced ease, laughing, and clinking glasses filled the air. It was a great cry from the tranquil life she had previously envisioned, but for her wealthy husband, Dorian Blackwood, such extravagance came as easily as breathing. Tonight was supposed to be their third wedding anniversary, which she had believed would signal a turning point in their increasingly distant marriage.
Her fingers clenched around the champagne flute in her palm, searching for Dorian among the crowd. He had vanished minutes before, leaving her alone to face polite smiles and questioning looks. It wasn't unusual for him to doze off during such occasions, but tonight seemed different. There was an energy in the air, a buzz that she couldn't identify.
"Mrs. Blackwood," a kind voice stopped her thoughts. Ana turned and spotted Hazel, her best friend and confidante. Hazel's black eyes glanced anxiously to the stage in the middle of the room. "Have you spoken with Dorian?" He seemed distracted tonight."
Ana's chest clenched. "Not yet." Why?"
Before Hazel could respond, the lights faded and a spotlight lit the stage. Dorian came from the shadows, his imposing presence quieting the room. He possessed the same charm that had previously captured Ana, dressed in a cut black suit. But as she saw him approach the microphone, her heart started racing—not with joy, but with dread.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Dorian said in a suave, confident tone. "Thank you for joining us tonight to celebrate a truly special occasion."
Ana twisted her lips into a timid grin. Perhaps he had arranged a surprise for her as a way to reignite the spark they had lost. But as he proceeded to speak, her grin faded.
"Tonight, I want to share some exciting news," Dorian continued, casting his glance across the audience before landing on a person standing at the stage's edge. "It is my great pleasure to introduce you all to someone very important to me—Lila Moreau."
A hush came over the audience as a stunning woman entered the limelight. Her flaming red dress clung to her contours, and her confident grin sent shivers down Ana's back. Lila approached Dorian and slipped her arm around his like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Ana froze, her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers were numb, and the champagne flute dropped from her hands, breaking on the marble floor.
"Lila and I have decided to take the next step in our journey together," Dorian said, his voice steady. "She will be my fiancée, and in time, the new Mrs. Blackwood."
Ana ignored the murmurs and gasps that filled the room. All she could hear was the deafening sound of her own heartbeat. Her eyesight clouded as tears threatened to fall, but she refused to cry in front of this audience.
"Dorian," she muttered, her voice barely heard over the din. She moved forward, her legs quivering beneath her. "What is this?"
Dorian's visage tightened when he turned to face her. "That's what it looks like, Anastasia. This is over. It's time for both of us to move on.
"Moved on?" she said, her voice rising. "After three years of marriage, you're revealing this in front of everyone? Without even telling me?
"Don't make a scene," he replied calmly, his words sharp as a razor.
Ana's attention turned to Lila, who stood motionless behind him, her face pleased with satisfaction. "You've humiliated me," Ana cried, her voice shaking with anger and anguish. "You have embarrassed us. Was I nothing to you?
Dorian's jaws constricted. Something flared in his eyes briefly, maybe regret, but it vanished just as fast. "You'll be taken care of," he added. "You'll want for nothing."
Ana laughed cruelly, her tone flat and harsh. "Taken care of? Is that how I was to you? A project? A burden to be discarded when something better comes along?
"Enough," Dorian said abruptly, his voice low yet forceful. "It's for the best, Ana. "You'll see it in time."
Before she could react, he turned aside and led Lila off the stage. The throng parted for them, and their words trailed Ana like a fog of poison.
Hazel arrived by her side, holding her arm. "Ana, we need to leave."
But Ana could not move. Her legs were rooted to the ground, and her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. It wasn't just the treachery; it was the way Dorian looked at her, like if she were a memory.
"I can't," she said softly, her voice cracking.
"Yes, you can," Hazel said, her voice urgent. "You owe none of these individuals your tears. Let's go.
Hazel directed her to the exit, but before they could reach the doors, Ana felt a hand seize her wrist. She swung around hoping to see Hazel again, but her breath stuck in her throat.
It was Dorian.
"Ana," he murmured softly and urgently. His demeanor was opaque, but his eyes were intense, unlike previously. "I didn't want it to happen like this."
Her jaw stiffened and she jerked her hand free. "Didn't you?" she demanded. "You planned it, Dorian. You stood up there and destroyed my life, and now you want to talk?"
"I didn't have a choice," he explained, his voice straining.
"Of course, you had a choice," Ana screamed. "You chose her."
Dorian's attention shifted momentarily to Hazel, who hovered protectively close, before returning to Ana. "You don't understand," he said gently. But you will. Soon."
Ana gazed at him, her heart beating with anger and uncertainty. "What are you talking about?" she insisted. "What is it I'm supposed to understand?"
Dorian opened his lips to respond, when a voice stopped them. Lila.
"Dorian," she cried from across the room, her voice crisp and forceful. "We should go."
For a little while, Dorian paused. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Ana standing in the doorway, her mind racing with questions she wasn't sure she wanted answered.