Chapter 56 The red roses on the floor
Deborah stayed in her office long after knight left, trying to distract herself by fixing slips of paper that weren’t even crooked. She rearranged pens. Straightened documents. Adjusted a vase. Anything to delay the inevitable.
Her hands shook more with each passing second.
Luna stood quietly by the door, watching her boss move restlessly around the room. “Miss Valmere,” she said gently, “are you… alright?”
Deborah stiffened. “I’m fine.” But her voice cracked ever so slightly.
Luna didn’t push. “If you need anything, I’ll be just outside.”
“Thank you, Luna, you can go now,” Deborah murmured, forcing a small nod.
When she finally stepped into the hallway, her heels echoed like a warning bell. She pressed the elevator button, inhaling sharply, then whispering under her breath:
“Hold yourself together.” The elevator doors slid open.
By the time Deborah reached the parking lot, her heartbeat was no longer steady, it was panicked, guilty, suffocating.
And there he was.
Luther.
He leaned against his black Audi R8 like he’d been sculpted into the shadows. One hand in his pocket. The other holding his phone loosely. His head tilted slightly as she approached, the parking lights reflecting off his sharp jawline.
He lifted his gaze the moment he sensed her presence. The softness in his eyes almost broke her immediately.
“Hello there, my sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and tired, like he had been waiting for hours.But he still smiled at her. He gave her a bouquet of flowers. A one hundred pieces of roses.
Deborah drew in a breath that hurt. “We need to talk.”
Luther’s lips twitched, the beginnings of a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I figured.”
She stopped a few feet away from him, arms crossed tightly. “I’ll be direct,” Deborah began, steadying her voice. “We should stop… whatever this is.”
Luther went still. Like a statue. Like a man shot but refusing to fall.
“…W-what?” His brows drew together sharply.
“You heard me.” Deborah forced herself not to look away. “We shouldn’t see each other anymore, Luther. No messages. No calls. No meetings. We end everything here.”
For a long moment, Luther didn’t breathe. He stared at her like he was trying to understand a foreign language.
“You’re serious,” he finally said, voice dropping to a dangerous quiet.
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened. “And you’re telling me this now? After Italy? After everything?Why? Is there someone else?"
“I’m doing what I have to do.”
“For who?” Luther’s voice rose, echoing in the parking lot. “For your brothers? For your last name? For that stupid image the Valmeres want you to uphold?”
Deborah didn’t answer.
Anger flashed in Luther’s eyes. “Say something, Baby.”
“It’s better this way,” she whispered.
“Better for who?” he repeated, stepping closer. “Because I’m standing here fighting for you, and you’re fighting everything except what you feel.”
She shook her head. “Luther, don’t—”
“Don’t what?” His voice cracked. “Don’t tell the truth? Don’t say out loud that you want to run away because you’re scared your family won’t approve? Is this because of Knight?”
Deborah swallowed painfully. “Luther… please.”
He laughed once, a wounded, breathless sound. “You’re unbelievable.”
She stiffened. “This is final.”
“No.” Luther’s voice was sharp, immediate. “Not until you say it properly.”
He stepped forward slowly until she could see every wounded emotion in his eyes. “Look me in the eye,” he said quietly, “and tell me you don’t want me. Tell me I meant nothing.”
Deborah’s heart nearly collapsed. But she held her composure like a weapon.
“You meant nothing.”
Luther staggered, actually staggered back a step. His eyes reddened instantly, turning glossy before he blinked rapidly to hide it. The red roses dropped on the floor. He dragged a hand down his face, breathing hard. Then he forced a hollow smile.
“Wow,” he whispered. “You’re good. You know that?”
Deborah closed her eyes for half a second. It was enough for him to see.
“You’re lying,” he muttered. “But fine. If you want to pretend… I’ll let you.”
“Luther—”
“If you want to destroy us,” he cut in, voice icy, “then at least have the courage to admit it’s your fear talking, not your heart.”
She took a shaky breath. “I don’t want this anymore.”
“Stop,” he snapped. “Just stop. You’re hurting both of us with every lie you spit out.”
Deborah bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. But she forced her voice steady.
“We are done.”
Luther looked at her like she was ripping out his heart with her bare hands.
Then, with excruciating slowness, he nodded.
“…Alright,” he whispered, voice shaking. “If you want me gone, say no more.”
He moved toward his car. He kept his face cold. Controlled. Untouched.
But Deborah could see the way his hands trembled as he opened the door.
She whispered, “I’m sorry—”
Luther froze. Then turned slightly, giving her one last look.
“You know what hurts the most?” he said tightly. “I wasn’t expecting forever. I wasn’t expecting promises. I just wanted you.”
Deborah felt her chest collapse.
“But you,” he continued bitterly, “you’d rather break both of us than admit you care. ”
Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes, but she blinked them away.
“Goodbye, Luther.”
He let out a hollow laugh. “You’re cold, Deborah. So cold that even winter would envy you.”
He slid into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and revved the engine. Before he drove off, he lowered his window just enough to speak one last time, his voice calm, but aching beneath every syllable.
“You can cut me out of your life,” he said quietly. “But don't fool yourself… you’ll feel this loss every night.”
Then he stared at her with a look she would never forget and whispered “Good luck living with the decision you made tonight.”
And he drove away, fast, furious, and heartbreakingly final.
Leaving her alone in the parking lot, the night cold against her skin, her breath trembling, her heart cracking under the weight of a choice she wasn’t sure she truly wanted. Deborah stood there, motionless, as the echo of his engine disappeared.
And only then did a single tear fall.