Against fate : rebirth of the stubborn heiress

The scent of fresh jasmine and white gardenias filled the car. Summer sat quietly in the back seat, fingers trailing over the bouquet wrapped in soft cream paper. Something about the simplicity of flowers felt grounding.

As the estate gates opened, the driver slowed to a stop in front of the grand villa. The afternoon sun cast soft shadows across the marble steps.

The moment Summer stepped out, a familiar figure leaned lazily against one of the stone pillars—an imposing silhouette dressed in black slacks and a crisp charcoal shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to show the veins along his forearms.

Travis.

Cold. Controlled. Beautiful in the way a perfectly forged blade was beautiful—sharp, precise, dangerous.

His gaze lifted the moment she appeared, but his expression remained unreadable. On anyone else, it would seem indifferent. But Summer had long learned to read the details—the tension in his knuckles, the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly.

"Back already," his voice was low, steady, but laced with something only she could hear.

"Didn't expect you home this early." Summer smiled, stepping closer.

He didn't answer immediately. His eyes scanned her from head to toe, pausing briefly on the shopping bags the valet was unloading. "Did you buy the store?"

"Not today." Her lips curved. "Tempting, though."

There was no reaction, but his eyes lingered on her face—studying, searching—as if making sure nothing was out of place.

"Did something happen?" he asked quietly, gaze sharp.

Summer blinked, then laughed softly. "You always ask that."

"Because you never tell me when it does." His arms crossed over his chest. The tone was flat, but there was a heaviness beneath it.

She took a step closer, cradling the bouquet in both hands. "Nothing happened, Trav. Just... ran into people I didn't care to see."

A flicker passed through his eyes—so subtle it would be missed by anyone else. His shoulders stiffened, but his voice remained even. "Who."

"Eric." She said it casually, glancing sideways. "And... her."

The silence stretched. For a moment, it felt like the air shifted around him.

But Travis simply tilted his head, lips pressing into a line. "Did they say something to you?"

"No."

"Did they touch you?"

A laugh escaped her. "No, Travis."

His fingers flexed slightly. His control was pristine, as always, but Summer could see it—the storm buried under layers of ice. He never raised his voice, never showed public anger. But when it came to her, there was always a subtle fracture in that perfect mask.

"Good," he finally said. "Because you know I'd erase anyone who tries."

Summer's smile softened. There was no doubt he meant it. Travis wasn't like Davis with his loud, doting affection. Nor was he like Leo with his constant lectures disguised as concern. Travis loved differently. Quietly. Obsessively. In a way she has come to cherish after her rebirth .

Thinking back to how she usually stayed away from this brother of hers even when he has never done anything to hurt her simply because she was scared of him .

what a coward move . in this life, she will be the rope that holds them together, not destroy them again.

"You worry too much," she teased lightly, stepping around him toward the front door.

He caught her wrist before she could pass. Not rough. Not desperate. Just firm. Certain.

She glanced down at where his fingers circled her wrist, then back up at his face. His eyes were unreadable—void of warmth to anyone else. But she knew him. She could see it.

The panic he would never say aloud.

"Summer..." His thumb brushed her skin. "Don't... don't let them get near you."

There it was.

The rare crack in Travis Bellani.

Her free hand reached up, fingers lightly tapping his forehead. "You always act like I'm made of glass."

"No." His voice dropped. "Glass breaks. You don't."

A silence settled between them. Not uncomfortable. Not tense. Just... filled with things neither of them ever quite said aloud.

After a few seconds, he released her wrist and stepped aside. "Come inside. Leo's waiting. Something about your investment portfolio."

Summer raised a brow. "Oh? Something good?"

"Something stupid, probably." But there was the faintest pull at the corner of his lips—as if amused by her excitement.

As they walked toward the main entrance together, his hand brushed against hers briefly. Not by accident.

Never by accident.

---

Inside the villa, the housekeeper bowed slightly as they entered. "Miss, Master Leo is in the study."

Summer nodded. "I'll go."

Travis followed without a word, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the hallway like he always did—as if guarding her from ghosts only he could see.

Summer smiled quietly to herself.

In this life, everything was going to be different.