Rebirth: Love me Again
Chapter 338 - 338: The Frizkiel Heiress

[ESTELLE]

After nearly a week of radio silence, Damien finally came back.

I'd like to say I didn't count the days—but I did. Six days, nineteen hours, and a handful of anxiety-induced sleepless nights.

I tried to keep myself calm, tried not to imagine him running off to find Kelsey or catching some spontaneous amnesia and forgetting about me altogether. But when the man you love just vanishes, even your reflection on the mirror starts side-eyeing you like, "Girl, you sure he's coming back?"

Then suddenly, just like that, Damien walked through the door of the penthouse apartment he had insisted I stay in.

I didn't know whether to yell at him or throw myself into his arms.

He looked exhausted—messy hair, stubble like he fought a bear and won, and those signature Frizkiel eyes, sharp yet tired. But then he gave me that boyish half-smile, the one that made me melt when I first saw it.

"We found her," he said, voice low.

"Who?" I blinked. Then paused. "Wait—who?!" He'd been gone for an entire week—no calls, no messages, not even a half-hearted "I'm alive." And when he finally walked through the door, the first thing out of his mouth was, "We found her." No explanation, no apology. Just that.

"My sister."

Boom. Bomb drop. My brain rebooted.

He didn't say it with drama or fanfare. Just casually, like he'd found a long-lost sock behind the washing machine. Except this sock was a sister, a literal blood-relative Frizkiel heir, and apparently, the news was big enough to have kept him away for almost a week.

"Turns out she's alive. She's been living under a different name this whole time, and in a different country. Avery faraway country."

I didn't know whether to cry or grab my things and run.

I mean, yay for family reunions, truly! But also . . . this was my moment, wasn't it? I'd finally made Damien fall for me. We were finally a couple. We even kissed goodbye before he left—granted it was rushed, but it counted. And now he came back with a long-lost sister? My carefully laid wedding plans were sweating in their Pinterest board.

Still, I smiled. Because I was supportive. I was loyal. I was going to be his wife, damn it.

So, of course, I accompanied him to the official event. The one where his newly found sister would be named part of the Frizkiel line. I imagined meeting the whole family, finally getting the royal stamp of approval. I'd spent months pretending not to be interested in their beautiful genese, their power, their near god-like presence in Frizkiel. But let's be real. I was ready.

Everything started smoothly enough.

The mansion was bigger than my last five apartments combined. Golden chandeliers, ancient tapestries, sculptures that probably had their own insurance policies—this place screamed old money, and I was about to be part of it.

Well, I was already an old money myself, but still . . .

I wore my best dress, naturally. Classy but with just enough cleavage to remind Damien what he had. My hair was curled to perfection, my makeup airbrushed within an inch of its life. I'd even practiced my "soon-to-be Frizkiel" smile in the mirror. Sophisticated. Slightly bored. With a hint of I-own-an-island confidence.

But then I realized something weird.

I was . . . alone.

Damien wasn't beside me. I spotted him across the room with his brothers, looking dashing as ever. But he was with someone—his sister, I assumed. Only I hadn't been introduced yet. I stood by the marble bar like an accessory someone forgot to pick up.

To make things worse, Kelsey was there.

Oh, yes. Miss "My Career Comes First But I Still Show Up Where I'm Not Wanted" had slithered in wearing a red satin dress that clung to her like betrayal. She gave me that innocent look, like "Oh! Fancy seeing you here!" Ma'am. Please. You knew exactly what you were doing.

I kept my cool. Sipped my champagne. Practiced breathing. Plotted at least three different ways to trip her accidentally-on-purpose.

Then the moment came.

The crowd hushed. A spotlight hit the grand staircase. And down they came.

First, Eric Frizkiel—black-haired, regal, and terrifyingly handsome for someone's dad. Then came his sons: Damien, Dante, and Dean. Each one looking like a different flavor of heartbreak. Seriously, it was illegal. The suits, the confidence, the slow, synchronized walk—it was like a damn shampoo commercial. People around me swooned. I swear one woman fainted.

Then came Evangeline—the queen herself. She walked like she owned gravity. That was the mother, I reminded myself. My future mother-in-law. I straightened up, ready to impress.

And then . . .

Then came her.

To her right, a woman appeared.

And not just any woman.

Long legs, perfect skin, hair that glowed like it had its own lighting team. She descended the stairs like a goddess. Every step screamed elegance. People stared, whispered. Cameras flashed.

I squinted. Tilted my head.

No.

No. No. No way.

My mouth dropped open like a fish in shock. I forgot how to hold my champagne glass. It tipped over. Someone gasped. I didn't care.

It was her.

Eve Rosette.

Except that wasn't her real name anymore.

She was introduced as Evangeline Cole Frizkiel.

The long-lost sister.

The one Dean had found.

The one I knew, and was dating my cousin Cole.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place like a badly written soap opera twist. My entire spine went stiff. I'd seen dramas like this, sure. But living it? Wild. Absolutely wild.

What kind of power move was that?!

And me?

I was just standing there.

A side character in my own love story.

A clown.

A hopeful, romantically delusional clown in five-inch heels.

I laughed—out loud. A tiny, slightly manic giggle that earned some strange looks. I covered it quickly with a cough and reached for another drink.

I don't know what shook me more—the fact that Damien had found his long-lost sister . . . or that she was Eve.

Just when I thought I had Damien wrapped around my little finger, the universe threw this glittering bomb at me.

And now . . . how to approach, Eve, my future sister in-law.

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