Chapter 86 Christmas on Valmere Walls
When Deborah returned to the Valmere mansion, the silence felt intentional, the kind that wasn’t born from emptiness but from careful control. The iron gates had already closed behind her by the time she stepped out of the car, sealing the estate away from the outside world as if Christmas itself had been ordered to remain private this year. Soft golden lights traced the edges of the mansion, wreaths lined the tall windows, and the faint scent of pine and cinnamon drifted through the cold air, but there were no signs of preparation meant for guests or the public.
This was not a celebration for display.
This was a Valmere gathering.. ...blood only.
Deborah paused just inside the entrance hall, slowly taking off her coat as her eyes wandered across the familiar space. The decorations were elegant but restrained, chosen with care rather than excess, and for the first time in a long while, the mansion felt less like a fortress and more like a home that was bracing itself against the storm outside. Somewhere deeper inside, a fire crackled softly, the sound grounding in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.
“Staring at the walls won’t make them talk back, you know.”
Caelum’s voice came from the far end of the hall. He stood near the fireplace, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but sharp, his eyes studying her face as if he were searching for answers she hadn’t yet offered.
“You disappear for hours, come back looking like you just survived something, and you don’t even try to pretend nothing happened.”
Deborah exhaled slowly, choosing calm over confrontation. “I didn’t know you were waiting for a full report the moment I walked in.”
“I always am,” Caelum replied dryly. “That’s kind of my role.”
Before she could respond, Knight emerged from the corridor, tablet tucked under his arm, his presence immediately shifting the atmosphere. His gaze flicked briefly to Deborah, checking her expression, her posture, the subtle signs only he noticed. “Save the interrogation for later,” he said calmly. “Right now, there are other things to discuss.”
Lucio followed behind him, leaning lazily against the staircase railing, though his eyes were alert and calculating. “Translation,” he added, “we’re trying to act normal for once.”
Deborah frowned slightly. “Act normal about what?”
Caelum straightened, his tone turning more deliberate, almost formal. “Christmas.”
That single word caught her off guard.
“Christmas?” she repeated, disbelief threading through her voice. “With everything happening right now?”
“Yes,” Knight said firmly. “And not the kind you’re thinking of. No donors, no political allies, no carefully curated guest lists.”
Aston appeared then, practically bouncing down the steps, his energy cutting through the tension like a blade through fog. “Exclusive,” he announced with a grin. “Family only. No outsiders, no press, no pretending.”
Deborah blinked. “You mean… just us?”
“Just us,” Caelum confirmed. “Because with Fundano’s situation, the anonymous messages, and the possibility that someone close is hiding something, we’re not opening these doors to anyone we don’t share blood with.”
Lucio tilted his head slightly, his tone deceptively light. “Besides, it’s exhausting having to smile at people who are secretly calculating your downfall while complimenting the decorations.”
Deborah felt something loosen in her chest, something she hadn’t realized she’d been holding onto since the chaos began. “So this is… a real Christmas.”
Knight nodded once. “As real as we can allow it to be.”
They moved into the living hall, gathering around the long table where documents were already laid out, though not the kind that usually filled Valmere meetings. Instead of contracts and security briefings, there were handwritten lists, schedules, and notes scrawled in familiar handwriting. Some pages were crossed out, others rewritten, evidence of debates already held before she arrived.
Aston slid a paper toward Deborah, his grin softening. “You’re in charge of activities.”
She stared at it, then up at him. “I’m sorry......what?”
“You heard him,” Caelum said. “Games, traditions, anything that doesn’t involve strategy, surveillance, or power plays. You’re good at grounding people, whether you realize it or not.”
Deborah let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “You’re trusting me with family morale now?”
Lucio smirked. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
Knight met her eyes across the table, his voice quieter, more personal. “You need this too, Deborah. All of us do. One night where we’re not watching our backs or reading between every line.”
She hesitated, the weight of responsibility mixing with something warmer. Then she nodded slowly. “Alright,” she said. “But don’t complain when you lose.”
Aston clapped his hands together. “Games it is. Cards, board games, maybe even that ridiculous trivia we used to play when we were younger.”
Caelum raised an eyebrow. “The one where Lucio cheated?”
Lucio scoffed immediately. “I did not cheat. I simply have superior memory.”
Deborah watched them bicker, a faint smile finally breaking through as the tension eased just enough to let warmth in. For a brief moment, the mansion echoed with something dangerously close to laughter, the kind that belonged to family rather than power.
And for that moment, Christmas felt possible.
But even as plans were made and arguments turned playful, the truth lingered unspoken, heavy and patient in the corners of the room. The past was still moving, still watching, still waiting.
Christmas was coming.
And behind the locked gates of the Valmere mansion, the family would gather not just to celebrate, but to hold onto one another, before whatever was coming next finally demanded its due.