"Welcome back, Mr. Grey," Taylor greeted, his tone both professional and warm.

"Thank you. It's good to be back," Christian replied, his voice steady as he descended the polished stairs of the GEH jet. Roz had insisted on sending the plane for him, a gesture of loyalty and support that he sincerely appreciated, even though he had left her to manage the company alone during his absence.

Jason reluctantly approached Christian, keys in hand. "Are you sure I cannot drive you?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly. It was clear to Jason that his boss was determined to handle this next chapter on his own, yet the instinct to protect lingered in the back of his mind.

Christian met Jason's gaze. "I got myself into this; it's only right I face it alone," he said, his voice firm but tinged with the vulnerability that came from confronting his own demons. "I have much to say to you and Gail as well." Jason nodded, recognizing the resolve in Christian's demeanor. He stepped back as Christian approached the sleek, newly purchased BMW X1.

As Christian slid into the driver's seat, he took a moment to inhale deeply, allowing the familiar scent of leather and polished metal to wash over him. It was a small comfort amid the turmoil he faced. Christian started the engine with a final nod to Jason, who remained in the hangar with a watchful eye. The soft purr of the car reminded him that despite everything, he was still in control of his own destiny, a lesson hard learned.

With each passing block, he felt the anticipation build within him, filled with anxiety and determination. There was so much to address and many relationships to mend, and he knew the road ahead would not be easy. But he was ready to confront it all.

Fear gripped him like a vice, paralyzing him in the driver's seat of his car. The leather, though unfamiliar, felt like a second skin grounding him. He knew, deep down, that his mother would welcome him back with open arms, the kind of embrace that could heal old wounds. Yet, despite that knowledge, he remained rooted to the spot, his mind swirling with doubt and regret. It was the height of irony that he now feared them doing to him what he had once done to them—turning their backs on him, casting him aside. All he could ask for was a chance to explain his actions, to articulate the tangled web of choices and consequences that had led him to this moment, and to hope that, in time, they would find it in their hearts to forgive him. He understood he had no right to expect anything from them; still, he found himself whispering fervent prayers to a God he didn't believe in, pleading for a miracle that could mend the rift he had created.

After what felt like an eternity of wrestling with his own insecurities, he finally summoned the courage to exit his car. The ground felt unsteady beneath his feet as he made the laborious walk to the door, each step heavy with the weight of unresolved emotions. With his heart racing, throat dry, and palms clammy with sweat, he knocked. The sound echoed in the silence, and he held his breath as he heard the handle turn. He braced himself for whatever lay beyond the threshold, his mind racing with good and bad possibilities.

The sight of Mia standing in the doorway surprised him. He had thought she was in Paris, oblivious to the chaos unfolding back home. Then again, he realized he couldn't claim to know much about his family anymore. It didn't take long for Mia to dismiss him; her back turned as she walked away without a word. "At least she didn't shut the door in my face," he whispered to himself, the small consolation doing little to ease the churning in his stomach. He followed her into the house, a sense of dread coiling tightly around his heart.

Moments later, his mother appeared in the doorway, her expression a mixture of confusion and hurt.

"Christian?" His name forced past the ball of emotion lodged in her throat.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, his voice heavy with remorse. Each word was laced with sincerity, and Grace could see the pain reflected in his eyes, which mirrored her own. "I cannot begin to imagine the hurt I caused you." The vulnerability in his admission struck a chord deep within her. For a fleeting moment, Grace Grey felt her anger start to thaw.

Grace pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around him. Over her shoulder stood Carrick and Elliot, their expressions guarded as they watched the two of them.

"In the end, you found your way back," Grace whispered, her voice barely audible yet filled with an unshakeable conviction. "And in the end, that is all that matters." She pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, searching for the sincerity that she still desperately needed to see. For a heartbeat, it felt as if the weight of the past had been lifted. Yet, deep inside, he sensed that not everyone shared her sentiment. Carrick's brow was furrowed, his gaze unwavering, while Elliot's arms were crossed, indicating his guarded emotion. They had seen the devastation that had unfolded and felt the sting of betrayal that lingered like a bitter aftertaste. Christian knew that while Grace was willing to forgive, the others were grappling with their own emotions and hurt.

"I don't know where to start," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Let's start with you turning your back on your family," Mia shot back, her tone sharp and unforgiving.

"Mia…"

"No, she has every right to be angry," he interjected. Mia's eyes were fixed on the wall as if it held the answers to unspoken questions.

Christian's heart ached at seeing her, the sister he had once been so close to, now a stranger standing in judgment. "For years, I believed telling you would be the worst thing I could do. I thought you'd surely disown me, regret ever adopting me. I convinced myself that you'd see me as a monster…"

Carrick gripped Grace's arm as she opened her mouth to refute his assertions. "For years, she drilled it into my head that I was unworthy of your love, that I was incapable of earning it. My achievements made you proud, and that should be good enough for me.

I believed she was the only person who understood me and recognized what I needed and why. After all, I stopped drinking and fighting. I channeled my energy into my studies and managed to get into Harvard. But Harvard never truly interested me; it was just another way to please you. She was the only one who saw that.

Christian lowered his gaze to his trembling hands, feeling the weight of his next words pressing down on him. "She believed in me enough to give me the money to start GEH. She proved she knew me on a fundamental level, something none of you did. At least, that's how I thought until the day you found out."

He paused, the memories flooding back, sharp and painful. "To my surprise, you didn't disown me. You didn't see me as a monster. Worse, you blamed yourselves for not seeing it sooner. I wasn't prepared for that. Not once did that turn of events cross my mind. I didn't know how to handle it; I was spiraling out of control." He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to retreat into the familiar shadows of the shame that had engulfed him in the last seven months.

"You couldn't have known that asking me to cut ties with her would shred to pieces the last vestiges of control I was clinging to. She made sense to me. With her, I could ground myself and regain some semblance of control. You were an unknown, uncontrollable, and when push came to shove, my need to regain control became more important than my love for you. Control is what stopped the destructive behavior. Control is why you stopped fighting about what to do with me. Control is why I kept you at arm's length. It was easier to believe I was doing so to protect you from the monster I thought I was." He glanced up to see their reactions, and the pain in their eyes cut deep. "But when you found out, that excuse vanished. I had no reason to keep you at a distance anymore, and… I love you. I always have. But my need for control became more important than my love for my family."

Silence enveloped them, heavy and suffocating. He felt exposed and vulnerable as if he had stripped away all his defenses. But he knew he had to face the truth, no matter how painful it was. The path to forgiveness and understanding might be long and arduous, but he was willing to embark on it if they would let him.

"Harvard," Carrick whispered, the name hanging heavily in the air like a cloud of smoke, choking him with regret and despair. His heart ached at the crushing realization that his own desires had pushed his son further into the clutches of that monster. "I put my wants before yours. Not listening to you will be one of my biggest regrets. What kind of father…"

"Giving me the money had nothing to do with believing in me," Christian interjected, his voice sharp and defensive, cutting through Carrick's guilt like a knife. He knew where Carrick's spiraling thoughts were headed. "She ensured my silence. It came after I told her I no longer wanted to be her submissive. It was motivated by fear."

"And yet you still didn't see that she was full of shit," Mia raged, her frustration boiling over, her eyes blazing with anger. "Why pay you to ensure your silence if we would turn our backs on you? Wouldn't we turning our backs on you benefit her?"

Christian hung his head, the weight of his sister's words crashing down on him. "There is so much I didn't see," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up and found Mia watching him intently, her expression of nothing but her disappointment in him. "If I'm honest, there was so much I refused to see. Living the lie was better than admitting it had all been a lie. Pretence gave me control, even if it was an illusion. It was still better than nothing. It was easier to tell myself that until Ana."

"Ana?" Grace sat up, her eyes narrowing with curiosity and concern. "What has Ana got to do with this?"

Christian glanced at Elliot for the first time since entering the house. "I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up," Elliot mumbled with a shrug.

"You knew what she'd do?" Christian chuckled, a hollow sound devoid of humor.

"No, it was only when she offered to get rid of Elena that the thought occurred to me. But I knew it was something you needed to do yourself. She agreed with me. I had no idea what she intended to do, and she hasn't told me. Believe me, I have asked." Elliot answered.

"What did she do?" Carrick asked, needing answers, desperate to understand Ana's role in all of this.

"You went after Anastasia Rose Steele," Grace said incredulously, disbelief etched on her face.

"Didn't your… no, it wouldn't have," Carrick mumbled, a smile creeping onto his lips as amusement flickered in his eyes.

"Didn't I what?" Christian asked, confusion painted across his features. The amused glances exchanged among his family only deepened his bewilderment.

"Run a background check, but then I realized it wouldn't have helped," Carrick said, failing miserably to stifle his laughter. "You went after Ana Steele. Boy, you have a death wish." He added.

"Who is she?" Christian pressed, the knot in his stomach tightening.

"It's not who she is; it's who her father is. Even more importantly, her uncle," Elliot informed him, his tone grave.

"She hasn't got an uncle," Christian said, looking around. "She has got an uncle," Christian murmured, realization dawning on him like a fog lifting. Her background check had been incomplete, and in the cursory glance he had given her father's profile, he saw no reason to ask for an in-depth background on him.

"Well, it took me a while, but I realized she had Lincoln's home bugged. It was the only way she could have known about the money I intended to loan her," Christian continued, his voice thick with disbelief as he recalled the night everything had spiraled out of control. "The night before I was supposed to meet her at the bank to finalize everything was the night Ana revealed she'd known my plans from the beginning." He shook his head as if trying to dislodge the memories. "Ana knew just how to unsettle me enough that the bank would be the last thing on my mind. That morning, I realized I needed help."

"Where did you go?" Mia asked, her voice softer now.

"I called Flynn." His last interaction with Flynn had been one of anger and frustration. Flynn had hoped the revelation of the truth would open Christian's eyes instead of driving him further away from his family. It had done both, but it also illuminated that Elena was all he had. She was the only one he could be himself with, and he hated it. His crippling need for control meant he clung to what he despised. Flynn's outrage had mirrored his own, and unpleasant words had been exchanged, and he'd stormed out.

"I flew to London and admitted myself to the private clinic he now runs. However, he refused to have anything to do with my treatment. He believed our relationship of therapist and patient was now untenable. He referred me to a new psychologist, and for the first three months, I attended therapy every day. There were various programs and exercises, but all in all, I was there for six months." He kept his head down, his eyes glued to his fingers, tracing invisible lines on the surface of his jeans.

"They don't have shaving sticks, barbers, or hairdressers in England," Elliot teased the levity in his voice a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere. Christian smiled, running his fingers through his unkempt hair. He hadn't had a haircut or shave in seven months.

"Maybe I am taking a page out of your book and embracing the wild look," Christian replied, a hint of humor breaking through.

Christian knew the path ahead would be riddled with challenges, and as he looked around at the faces of his family, he realized that healing wouldn't just be about overcoming his past; it would also be about rebuilding the trust that had been shattered along the way. The road to redemption was long, but for the first time in a long time, he felt he had a chance to walk it together with those who loved him.

"I take it you know nothing where Elena Lincoln is concerned," Carrick asked.

"No, and I couldn't care less." Christian groused. He'd left his phone with Taylor and gotten a new one when he got to London. Only Taylor and Ros had that number.