Billionaire Beachside Romance

Rain slashes across the windshield, each drop a sharp tap against the glass like a reminder I can’t escape the storm inside me—just like I couldn’t escape the headlines, the whispers, or the betrayal that sent me running in the first place.

Each drop is a sharp tap against the glass, like a reminder I can’t escape the storm inside me.

The wipers groan in protest as they swipe back and forth, barely keeping up. My chest tightens, the air thick with salt and memory.

Every mile I put between myself and the city should feel like relief, but it doesn’t. It feels like running—lightning forks across the sky, lighting up the narrow coastal road. I grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles pale.

The storm howls around me, waves pounding somewhere beyond the dunes—my heart hammers, keeping rhythm with the wipers. “Almost there,” I whisper to myself. The words come out shaky, a lie wrapped in breath.

When the headlights “nally catch the outline of the cottage, my throat tightens. It’s smaller than I imagined, tucked beneath wind- bent pines and facing a restless sea.