Rebirth: Love me Again

[LINA]

Dylan told me he owned the entire island—the house, the land, everything. "That's where all my money went," he said with a small, almost embarrassed smile.

He had planned to retire here—or at least escape to this island after I got married. But somewhere along the way, his feelings for me got in the way, and everything changed.

He also had some savings tucked away, not as much as mine, he admitted, but enough to start a simple, quiet life. Enough to raise a family and live comfortably until the end of our days.

But honestly, I didn't care about any of that.

All I ever wanted was him—through thick and thin, rich or poor. The world could fall apart, and I would still choose him, again and again.

We danced barefoot under the moonlight, to music only we could hear, spinning and laughing as if the rest of the world had melted away.

But the most precious moments were the quiet ones.

Like when he'd brush my hair back from my face while I read, or when I'd catch him watching me as if trying to memorize every part of me.

Or when we sat in silence, watching the stars, his fingers laced with mine like they were always meant to be there.

And of course, we made love every day—sometimes more than once, and in every place imaginable. Whether it was under the swaying palms, in the warm shallows of the beach, or simply curled up in each other's arms in bed, it was like our bodies spoke a language only we could understand.

I wouldn't be surprised if I were pregnant right now after just a week of staying here with how often we've given in to each other's desire.

But the truth is . . . I kind of hope I am.

Because more than anything, my next dream is to build a family with him. A real one. A peaceful, quiet life where love is the foundation—not duty or expectations or power.

Just him and me . . . and maybe a little one who looks like him and laughs like me. I didn't need luxury or approval from anyone. I only needed this—us.

In paradise, there was no judgment, no pressure. No family to please. No future to fear. There was just love—raw, imperfect, overwhelming love.

And I would live in that moment a thousand times over if I could.

But of course . . . good times were destined to end.

After nearly a month of living in our private paradise, the sound of a helicopter slicing through the peaceful skies shattered the calm.

My heart sank the moment I heard it. Only one person in the world had the nerve—and the resources—to track me down here.

My father.

Honestly, I was surprised it took him this long to find us. I had counted on him coming after a week, maybe two, but a full month of peace with Dylan? That was a miracle in itself.

The chopper touched down at the edge of the island with a low rumble that made the waves tremble. No security detail. No armed men. Just him. And somehow, that was worse.

My father didn't need an army to be terrifying.

He stepped down from the aircraft like a king returning to reclaim stolen property. His expression was calm, but his eyes were burning with a silent rage that sent a cold chill down my spine.

Even Dylan's face drained of color, jaw tightening as he instinctively stood in front of me.

My father's aura alone could crush a weaker man. He was power and fury in a suit.

"Dad," I greeted, stepping forward carefully. "You found me."

He didn't answer me at first. His eyes locked onto Dylan like a predator sizing up prey. Then he spoke with that cool, razor-sharp voice that cut through everything.

"Let's go home, Lina. Enough of this charade." Then, his gaze flicked to Dylan. "And you—consider yourself dismissed. You're fired. I don't want you anywhere near my family or my daughter ever again."

"Dad!" I cried, my voice rising in protest.

But one glare from him silenced me instantly.

"Don't make me force you, Lina," he said darkly. "You won't like how I'll do it."

That's when Dylan suddenly dropped to his knees in front of my father. The move startled even me.

"Mr. Fay," Dylan said, voice steady but laced with emotion. "I know I broke our agreement . . . but I love Lina. And I'll do anything to be with her."

My father's expression didn't change much, but a twitch in the corner of his eye revealed how displeased he was.

"Do you remember what I told you, boy?" His voice was cold. "You can have anything—power, wealth, influence—but not her. Never her. I told you not to fall in love with my daughter."

He took a step closer, looming over Dylan. "You're a soldier, a child of war. You're still in therapy. You wake up from nightmares drenched in sweat. You carry ghosts no one else sees. Do you honestly think my daughter deserves to be dragged into that kind of life?"

Dylan flinched like the words physically hit him. And my heart broke all over again. Because it was that reality that he held himself back from me all these years.

I rushed to his side, kneeling beside him and wrapping my arms around him. "I don't care!" I shouted at my father, tears in my eyes. "I know everything. I've held him during those nightmares. I've seen him struggle. And I love him anyway. If you're going to kill him—then kill me too. I'll follow him wherever he goes."

Dylan was horrified, clutching my hand tightly. "Lina . . ."

But I meant every word. I would never leave him. I couldn't go through everyday without him anymore.

My father exhaled sharply, visibly restraining himself. His jaw clenched as he muttered something under his breath. Finally, he looked up and shook his head with something close to exasperated anger.

"Why are you and your brother like this?" he muttered. "Always so eager to throw everything away for love."