Chapter 43 Unanswered Calls
" Thank you for tonight, Ylmaz." The villa was quiet when they returned from the garden, too quiet. The soft hum of the Italian countryside had faded into the lull of the night, replaced only by the rhythmic chirping of crickets outside the open balcony doors.
Deborah stepped into the room first, her heels clicking lightly against the marble floor. “Well,” she said, stretching her arms, “I guess this is it, our first night in Italy.”
Ylmaz followed behind, carrying her small suitcase. “Feels strange, doesn’t it?” he said, setting it down near the bed. “Just a few hours ago, we were still at the airport.”
She smiled faintly, brushing her hair away from her face. “Yeah. Everything happened so fast.”
He nodded, then glanced around the room. The space was warm and elegant, cream-colored walls, golden curtains, and a king-sized bed that looked impossibly soft. A faint scent of lavender lingered in the air. “I told them to make sure you’d be comfortable,” he said.
Deborah smiled a little. “You didn’t have to.”
“Of course, I did,” he replied simply. “You’re my guest. And…” his voice softened “I just want you to feel safe here.”
Her eyes met his briefly, something unreadable flickering there before she turned away. “Thank you, Ylmaz.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.” Then his tone shifted slightly, hesitant. “So… uh, where do I sleep?”
Deborah blinked. “You?”
He scratched the back of his neck, pretending to sound casual. “Well, I want to stay.....beside you.”
She gave him a knowing look, half amused and half cautious. “You’re not seriously suggesting—”
“I mean—!” Ylmaz raised his hands defensively, trying not to laugh. “Not like that! I just thought, maybe it’s fine if I stay here? I could sleep on the couch.”
Deborah crossed her arms, tilting her head. “You mean that tiny couch that barely fits two pillows?”
He looked over his shoulder, then sighed. “Okay, fine. Maybe not that one.”
“Exactly.”
“So… the bed then?” he teased, flashing a grin.
“Absolutely not.” He pouted dramatically. “You wound me.”
Deborah chuckled, shaking her head. “Ylmaz, I appreciate the offer, but I think it’s better if you take the room next door. I’ll be fine here.”
He looked disappointed for a second, but then nodded, trying to hide it behind a faint smile. “Right. Yeah. The gentleman in me agrees.”
“Good.”
“But the rest of me is offended.”
“Go,” she said, laughing softly.
He picked up his own bag and paused at the door, glancing back at her. “If you need anything, even if it’s just water, or… company,” he said gently, “I’ll be next door, okay?”
Deborah smiled faintly, trying not to show how much that comforted her. “Okay. Goodnight, Ylmaz.”
He hesitated a moment longer before replying, “Goodnight, Debby.” Then he left, quietly closing the door behind him.
The silence that followed felt heavy. Not suffocating... just still.
Deborah walked toward the bed, sitting at the edge. The cool sheets brushed against her fingertips, and for a second, she stared blankly at the floor. Everything had been moving so fast, the flight, the adrenaline, the rush of running away from home without telling her brothers.
Now that she was finally still, reality began to creep in.
She reached for her phone on the bedside table and pressed the power button. The screen lit up instantly, and her breath caught.
\[9+ missed calls.\]
\[9+ messages.\]
All from Luther.
Her heart dropped.
“Oh no…” she whispered.
Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through the notifications. Each call came one after another, spaced by only minutes, sometimes seconds. The messages, too, filled the screen like a flood.
Luther: Deb, where are you?
Luther: Answer your phone.
Luther: Your dad said something weird about you being on a trip? What’s going on?
Luther: Are you ignoring me?
Luther: Deborah, you better not have—
Luther: Call me. Now.
She exhaled shakily, gripping the phone tighter. The guilt hit her like a wave. She hadn’t told them. Not even Luther.
Only her father knew, and even then, she’d convinced him to cover for her, to tell her brothers she was “sent away for business matters.” It was the only way she could escape without being followed or questioned.
But now, seeing all those messages… she wasn’t so sure anymore.
Her chest tightened as she opened another message.
Luther: I called your Dad. He said it’s ‘handled,’ but he’s being vague. Deborah, please, I need to know you’re safe.
Her eyes burned. She set the phone down beside her and buried her face in her hands.
“God, what did I do…” she whispered.
For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at the glowing screen in the dimly lit room. The silence made every heartbeat sound louder, faster.
She thought of Luther, his protectiveness, his temper, the way he’d always said, ‘No one messes with me. Not even you, Deb.’
If he found out she left without permission… if he found out she was in Italy with Ylmaz....He’d lose his mind.
Deborah took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “It’s fine,” she murmured to no one. “Dad knows. It’s fine.”
But the words didn’t make her feel better. She unlocked her phone again, hovering over the “Call” button beside Luther’s name. Her thumb lingered there, trembling slightly. She wanted to call. To tell him she was safe.
But she also knew that the second he heard her voice, he’d demand to know everything. And she wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
A soft knock broke the silence.
She jumped slightly, clutching the phone. “Y-Yes?”
“It’s me,” came Ylmaz’s muffled voice through the door. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. The lights are still on.”
Deborah quickly wiped her eyes, forcing her tone to sound casual. “I’m fine! Just checking messages.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Goodnight, Ylmaz.” There was a pause, then his quiet reply. “Alright. Goodnight.”
She listened to his footsteps fade away, then sighed. Her gaze fell on her phone again. Another vibration.
Luther: I swear, if you don’t answer, I’m getting on a plane.
Her pulse quickened.
She quickly typed a reply....
Deborah: I’m safe. Please don’t worry. I’ll explain soon.
But she didn’t press send. Her thumb hovered over the message for several seconds before she slowly deleted it.
“No,” she whispered. “Not yet.”
She turned off the phone, placed it face-down on the nightstand, and lay back on the bed. The sheets were soft, the pillows perfect, but she couldn’t relax.
Her mind was spinning. The weight of her choice settled over her like a shadow. For the first time that night, she wished she’d told Luther the truth.
Because deep down, she knew, secrets never stayed secret for long. And when her brothers found out, there would be consequences waiting far beyond missed calls.
Deborah: I'm sorry, Luther.