Chapter 37 Ylmaz D'Arden
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“It’s been almost ten years, hasn’t it?”
Deborah froze mid-sip, her coffee cup halting halfway to her lips. That voice, warm, deep, and hauntingly familiar, sent a chill of nostalgia down her spine before she even turned. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder, and her breath caught.
“Ylmaz?”
He stood by the glass doors of the Valmere Company café, framed by the gentle cascade of morning sunlight. The faint breeze from the open terrace ruffled his dark hair, and his sharp blue-gray eyes softened as they met hers. Time had changed him, he looked older, calmer, more mature, yet there was still something achingly familiar about him. In his hands, he carried a bouquet of lilies and white roses, her favorite.
He smiled, the corners of his lips curving with quiet affection. “I thought flowers might make this a little less awkward. But… maybe I overdid it?”
Deborah blinked, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “You always did.” Ylmaz chuckled as he crossed the café floor, his polished shoes tapping lightly against the marble tiles. Patrons turned subtly to look, some recognizing the famous Ylmaz D’Arden, heir to the D’Arden Holdings in Guam, others simply drawn to the effortless charisma he carried.
When he reached her table, he gently set the bouquet down between them. “You still like white roses, don’t you?”
Deborah nodded, tracing a petal with her finger. “Always. They were… Mom’s favorite too.”
He smiled faintly. “Then I made the right choice.” The scent of the flowers mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries. For a few moments, they said nothing, both taking in the surreal reality of seeing each other after so long.
“It’s really been that long?” she finally asked, her voice soft.
“Ten years,” Ylmaz confirmed, sitting down across from her. “Ten long years. And five birthdays I never got to greet you on.”
Her eyes widened slightly, amusement flickering in them. “You counted?”
“Of course I did,” he said, his smile playful but his eyes sincere. “And one visit you never came down for.”
The air shifted subtly. Deborah’s expression faltered, her gaze falling to the table. " You mean, last time that I didn't go down?”
“Yes, I remember that day,” Ylmaz replied gently. “I came to the company of Valmere. Waited for almost an hour in the lobby. They said you were too busy to see me, but I knew better.”
Deborah’s chest tightened. The guilt she had buried for years clawed its way up. “You’re right,” she murmured. “I want to face you, but everything was a mess back then, I was trying to prove myself to the to my family, to everyone. Seeing you would’ve reminded me of the person I used to be, and I couldn’t afford that. And also that selene bitch who ruined everything."
He tilted his head, studying her expression. “You were never someone who needed to prove anything, Deborah.”
She gave a small, almost sad laugh. “Tell that to the world of corporate sharks.”
“You’re not like them,” he said quietly. “You never were. That’s what makes you different.”
Deborah looked up, and for a fleeting second, their eyes locked, and it felt like time folded in on itself. The past didn’t seem so far away anymore.
After a moment, she exhaled deeply. “Still… I owe you an apology. You didn’t deserve to be shut out like that.” Ylmaz smiled faintly, shaking his head. “You don’t owe me anything. You’ve been through enough, Deborah. I understand.”
“I’m still sorry,” she insisted softly. “You were always there when I needed someone, and when you needed me, I wasn’t.”
Ylmaz reached across the table, his fingers brushing against hers, just barely. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
Silence settled between them, not uncomfortable, but filled with years of words unsaid. Around them, the café hummed softly, the clink of cups, the murmur of conversation, the distant sound of city traffic. Yet, it all faded into the background.
He broke the silence first, his tone lighter. “You know, I didn’t just come here to bring flowers.” Deborah arched a brow, curious. “Oh? Should I be worried?”
He smirked. “Only if you hate good company and Italian sunsets.” She blinked, confused but amused. “Italian sunsets?”
“I have a villa in southern Italy,” he explained, leaning forward with a hint of excitement. “By the coast. Quiet. Private. The kind of place that feels like the world forgot to rush.”
“That sounds like a dream,” she said with a faint smile. “What about it?”
“I want you to come with me,” Ylmaz said plainly. “Just a short vacation. No media. No business calls. No Valmere pressure. Just peace.”
Deborah blinked in surprise, her lips parting slightly. “Me? You want me to go with you?”
“Yes,” he said simply, meeting her eyes. “You deserve to breathe, Deborah. To rest. You’ve spent too long fixing everyone else’s chaos. You need to see the world outside those glass towers.”
She chuckled softly. “You sound like you rehearsed that speech.”
“I did,” he admitted with a grin. “On the plane, actually.”
Her laughter came out genuine this time, light, melodic, like the sound of something she hadn’t felt in a long time: peace. “Ylmaz…” she began softly. “Italy sounds wonderful, but—”
“No buts,” he interrupted with a gentle firmness. “You once told me you wanted to watch the sunset over the cliffs of Amalfi. I thought… maybe it’s time you finally did.” Deborah’s smile faded into something tender. “You remembered that?”
“I remember everything about you,” he said again, his voice low and sincere. “Every word, every laugh, even how you take your coffee, three parts patience, one part sugar.”
Her cheeks warmed. “You make me sound like a habit.”
He smiled. “Some habits are worth keeping.” For a long moment, Deborah didn’t reply. She just looked at him, at the way his eyes softened when he smiled, at how time hadn’t dulled his warmth. The idea of escaping, even for a few days, felt almost unreal.
“Alright,” she said finally, her voice quiet but certain. “I’ll go.” Ylmaz blinked, as if surprised. “Really?”
She nodded. “Yes. A little Italy wouldn’t hurt.” He exhaled in relief, leaning back with a wide grin. “You don’t know how happy that makes me.”
Deborah chuckled, hiding her smile behind her coffee cup. “You really haven’t changed, have you?”
“I’d like to think I got better with age,” he teased. “More charming, less impulsive.”
“Mm, you still brought a whole bouquet to a café,” she teased back. He laughed. “Touché.”
Then, Ylmaz leaned forward once more, his tone softer now. “We’ll leave this weekend. I’ll take care of everything, the flight, the villa, even the food. I promise, you’ll love it there. It’s quiet, it’s safe, and—”
But before he could finish, the atmosphere shifted. The doors to the café opened with a sharp chime, and the low murmur of voices faltered. A presence filled the space, strong, commanding, and all too familiar.
Deborah stiffened before she even turned her head.
A man’s voice, smooth yet edged with quiet authority, cut through the air like a blade.
“She won’t come.”