Rebirth: Love me Again

[LINA]

"How dare you speak to my father like that!" Dan snapped, all pretense of civility gone. His voice was filled with contempt as he stood as well, his expression twisted with arrogance. "You're nothing but a bastard son, so watch your mouth."

This was bad. Really bad. And I felt terrible for dragging Daniel into this. Guilt twisted like a knife in my chest, sharp and unforgiving. I shouldn't have agreed to this meeting in the first place. Now, I had probably hurt him . . . again.

Daniel didn't flinch. He stood tall, his face expressionless, masking whatever turmoil was brewing inside. But I knew he had to be hurting. No matter how much he despised Robert, it didn't change the fact that he was still his father.

And Dan, no matter how hostile, was still his half-brother. They were still his family and right now, it was painfully clear that they had no love for him or any little affection at all.

To them, Daniel was nothing more than a mistake they chose to ignore—a shadow they pretended didn't exist. In their eyes, he simply didn't matter.

"You're right," Daniel said after a tense pause, his tone calm but chilling. "I'm just a bastard son, and I have nothing more to do with either of you. So let's just pretend that this meeting didn't happen. Goodbye."

"Daniel!" Robert shouted at him, but before anyone could react, Daniel tightened his grip on my hand and led me out of the room without another word.

The silence between us was thick, stretching out like an invisible wall as we made our way to the car. The tension could be felt, and I could only imagine what Daniel was feeling, but I didn't dare ask. Not yet. Explore more stories at My Virtual Library Empire

We both slid into the car, and the silence continued, weighing down on us. Then, after a moment, we spoke at the same time.

"I'm sorry."

Our words hung in the air, colliding awkwardly. We both froze, surprised, and for a second, I thought I saw a flicker of emotion in Daniel's eyes—something between frustration and relief.

I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "I didn't think it would end like that . . . I—I didn't mean for this to happen."

Daniel exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "I know. I'm sorry you have to see that. You only thought you were helping, and maybe . . . a part of me wanted to believe something could change. But now, it's clear." He turned to me, his gaze steady but distant. "They didn't want me. They wanted what being with you could give them."

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. All I could do was place my hand over his, offering silent comfort.

"It's not your fault," he added quietly, as if sensing my guilt. "Let's just . . . move on."

His words were simple, but they carried a weight I couldn't ignore. Daniel didn't ask for comfort, but that didn't mean he didn't need it.

And right then, I vowed to do whatever I could to be there for him—not because I felt guilty, but because I wanted to.

"Sorry, Daniel. I really am. I wanted to make things right for you, but . . . I just ended up messing it all up," I said with a sigh, my voice laced with regret.

Daniel chuckled softly, and before I could process it, I felt his hand gently ruffling my hair. The action was unexpected but oddly comforting, his touch warm and tender. His hand was large, and the warmth of it seeped into me, different from how Cole or my father had ever ruffled my hair before. There was nothing teasing or condescending in his touch—just quiet affection. I liked it. More than I expected to.

"Don't think too much about it," Daniel said, his voice calm and steady. He pulled his hand back and started the car, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence between us. "I know you only wanted to help, and that's enough for me. You don't have to beat yourself up over it."

But despite his words, the guilt gnawed at me, persistent and heavy. I hated seeing him go through that dinner, facing people who should have cared about him but never did. He didn't deserve that. He deserved better—better than what I had given him today.

As the car rolled down the street, an idea sparked in my mind. I wanted to make it up to him. Maybe it wouldn't erase what had happened, but it was something to ease my guilt.

"Uhm . . . could we stop by Lexur first?" I asked hesitantly, glancing over at him.

Daniel briefly shifted his eyes toward me, arching a brow. "Isn't that the place that sells luxury cars?"

I nodded, feeling a little nervous now that I'd brought it up. "Yeah, that's right."

He didn't ask any further questions, just turned the wheel and headed toward Lexur. Typical Daniel—he didn't need an explanation to indulge me. He trusted me, and that made me want to do something meaningful even more.

When we arrived, the gleaming glass doors of the showroom reflected the city lights, giving the whole place a sleek, polished look. The moment we stepped inside, the sales manager greeted us with a professional smile, immediately offering to show us around.

Rows of luxury cars, each more impressive than the last, lined the showroom floor. Polished chrome, sleek designs, leather interiors—it was the kind of place that screamed wealth and status.

Daniel walked beside me, his hands casually in his pockets, his expression unreadable. I could tell he wasn't entirely sure why we were here, but he didn't question me. Instead, he let me take the lead.

The sales manager enthusiastically began his pitch, pointing out various models and their features, but I barely listened. My attention was on Daniel, watching his reaction to the sleek cars around us. He didn't seem overly impressed, but I caught the brief flicker of interest in his eyes when we passed by a particular black sports car—a modern, elegant design with just the right touch of power and grace.