Rebirth: Love me Again

[BONUS Chapter for reaching 600PS! Thank you all!🤍 ]

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[ESTELLE]

When I landed on Frizkiel, a desolate realm of unending snow and barren icy plains stretched out before me.

The biting cold hit like a wall, seeping through my layers of clothing as if they were nothing more than tissue paper.

"Brrr . . ." I muttered through chattering teeth, my breath visible in the freezing air. My arms wrapped tightly around my trembling frame, but it was futile.

This wasn’t the brisk winter chill of New York. No, this was a relentless, bone-deep cold, the kind that whispered promises of frostbite and death if you lingered too long. I shivered violently, cursing the weather, my choices, and everything in between.

But as I glanced at my phone, my body betrayed me, igniting with a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature. There he was—Damien. His photo on the screen was enough to thaw the ice threatening to encase me.

I smiled despite the freezing wind.

This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.

Thanks to my network of spies, I already knew his schedule for the day. He was having breakfast at the prestigious Frizkiel International Hotel. Perfect. A fortuitous opportunity to finally introduce myself and make an impression.

Reaching the Frizkiel International Hotel, which Damien was having a breakfast buffet, I wasted no time. I rifled through my suitcase, meticulously selecting the dress. It was a masterpiece of crimson silk, tailored to perfection against my petite frame.

The rich color contrasted beautifully against my pale skin, while the fitted bodice accentuated every curve, giving me a bold yet refined elegance. The subtle shimmer in the fabric caught the light just enough to dazzle, but not so much as to overwhelm. Its high slit revealed just a hint of leg, striking the perfect balance between allure and class.

I slipped into the dress and took a long look in the mirror. My petite stature was often something I tried to work around, but tonight, it was a strength. The gown made me seem almost ethereal, like a rose blooming defiantly in a frozen wasteland.

With a final touch of deep red lipstick and a dusting of snowflake-shaped earrings, I was ready. My heart thumped with anticipation. Damien wouldn’t know what hit him.

Satisfied with my transformation, I stepped out of my room and headed to the buffet. The moment I entered, heads turned. Every glance, every whispered comment sent a boost of confidence surging through me.

I was the woman in the room, and I knew it.

Still, my eyes darted around, scanning the sea of people until they finally landed on him.

There he was, seated in the corner by the window, a newspaper in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. My heart skipped a beat, and I almost tripped over my own feet.

He was big—broad-shouldered and tall, even sitting down. His dark hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place, and the partially unbuttoned navy-blue shirt he wore gave him an effortless, suave charm.

I swallowed hard. Damien was in his thirties, mature and magnetic, exuding the kind of energy that made your knees weak. He was, without question, daddy material.

Taking a steadying breath, I adjusted the neckline of my crimson dress, subtly pushing up to reveal just the right amount of cleavage. Confidence was key. And so, with every ounce of courage I could muster, I strode over to him like I owned the room.

"Hi there," I said brightly, flashing him my most dazzling smile. "Mind if I join you?"

Damien looked up, his sharp amethyst eyes locking onto mine. The intensity of his gaze almost made me forget my name.

"Do I know you?" he asked, his voice smooth but distant, as his eyes casually scanned me from head to toe. A flicker of amusement danced in his expression, and I couldn’t help but think he found me beautiful.

I didn’t wait for an invitation. I slipped into the seat across from him and extended my hand confidently. "Estelle Fay Johnson," I announced, "your future bride-to-be."

For a second, his eyes narrowed in confusion, but then recognition lit them up.

"Estelle Fay Johnson," he repeated slowly. "The daughter of Estella Fay and Zhander Johnson?"

"The one and only," I said, leaning back with a satisfied smile.

Damien’s lips curved into a grin—a dangerous, disarming one that sent shivers down my spine.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Johnson," he said with a formality that felt oddly out of place. "Future bride, though? That’s quite an introduction."

"Don’t be so formal, Damien," I giggled, leaning forward. "Call me Estelle. After all, this is the start of our epic love story."

Damien huffed a quiet chuckle and took a sip of his coffee, his expression unreadable.

"Let me guess," he said, setting his cup down. "You’re here because . . . ?"

"Isn’t it obvious?" I tilted my head playfully. "To apply for the position of your girlfriend. And, eventually, your wife."

Damien’s eyebrows lifted slightly. "I’m sorry, but I don’t have any openings for that role at the moment."

I feigned shock, placing a hand dramatically over my chest. "No openings? That’s impossible. Look at me! I’m beautiful, rich, single—you’re handsome, wealthy, single. We’re a perfect match!"

Damien’s gaze flickered to the bustling dining hall before settling back on me, one brow quirked in subtle amusement. "Is that why you’re all dressed up so early in the morning, while everyone else is still in their pajamas?"

I tilted my head, giving him my best innocent smile. "And is that why everyone’s staring at me?" I gestured lightly toward the room, pretending not to notice the unmistakable glances and whispers being exchanged around us.

Following my line of sight, Damien’s lips curved ever so slightly, as if trying not to laugh. Meanwhile, I took the opportunity to scan the crowd. A group of women nearby quickly averted their eyes, one even letting out a muffled giggle before they all buried their faces in their coffee cups. A couple seated by the buffet subtly gestured in my direction, their smirks barely hidden behind their napkins.