Deborah's POV
Lugh's words left me in stunned silence.
This new identity came with immense responsibility and power, but it also shackled me, binding my every move to the family's interests.
I couldn't deny that I needed time to process all of this. But I refused to show any unease in front of Lugh, so I asked casually, "Where's Chad?"
Lugh waved his hand, a hint of impatience crossing his face as he replied coolly, "He's still upstairs. I've assigned him some work, so he's busy at the moment."
I nodded, but inwardly, I mulled over his attitude.
I let a slight nervousness creep into my expression, as though trying to mask my interest in Chad. Then I stood, speaking in a soft voice, "I'll go find him."
Without waiting for a response, I quickly made my way down the hallway toward the stairs, my steps brisk, as though I could hardly wait.
Each step was a calculated move.
I knew Lugh would be watching me closely, scrutinizing my every action. The nervousness and urgency I allowed to show were intentional, meant to plant seeds of suspicion, to tempt him into questioning the nature of my relationship with Chad.
This maneuver had to be executed with caution and precision.
Each step was The grand estate was as vast and imposing as a palace.a calculated move.
Each step I took up the staircase sent faint echoes through the hall. The flames flickering on the wall sconces trembled with each of my footfalls, casting shifting shadows that painted fractured patterns on the walls. My heartbeat quickened—not only as part of my act but because I genuinely needed a moment to gather my thoughts.
Following the wide hallway, I stopped in front of a closed door.
This was Lugh's office, a place I'd never been allowed to enter. This was the crucial point of my plan. I needed to enter that room naturally, to observe its interior and uncover whatever secrets it held.
Each step was The graTaking a steady breath, I raised my hand and tapped lightly on the door.nd estate was as vast and imposing as a palace.a calculated move. Shortly after, the door opened, and Chad stood there, his eyes widening slightly in surprise, as though he hadn't expected to see me.
"Mr Edwards isn't here. He mentioned he'd be heading to the garden to look for you," he said calmly, masking his initial shock.
I quickly composed myself, avoiding his gaze as I replied in a low voice, "I wasn't here to see my father. I came to find you."
I kept my eyes downcast, feigning a slight breathlessness, as though my ascent had left me a little flustered.
Chad raised his eyebrow, seemingly unprepared for my appearance. His tone was cool and restrained as he asked, "Is there something you need?" His gaze was sharp, and I could tell he wasn't completely at ease with me.
I cast a faint, rueful smile, allowing a hint of emotion to surface in my expression as I murmured, "I heard you were busy and wanted to check on you." After speaking, I stayed put, maintaining a delicate stance that hinted at restraint.
Chad remained impassive, acknowledging neither my words nor my presence. He returned his attention to the files in his hands, effectively dismissing my presence.
Standing there, I glanced up at him briefly, only to quickly avert my gaze, avoiding anything that might seem too obvious.
At the same time, I discreetly studied the office around us. Behind a heavy desk stood a wall lined with bookshelves, filled with volumes that spanned the entire wall—a fortress of knowledge. Beside the shelves sat an ancient fireplace. Although the palace's temperature was controlled by high-tech electric systems, the presence of the fireplace seemed intended to add a touch of vintage decor to the room.
This appeared to reflect Lugh's aesthetic—holding onto grandeur and taste, even if it lacked practical purpose.
I kept my gaze on Chad, watching his every movement and trying to guess his intentions. The air in the room felt thick with his cold detachment, and I found myself unconsciously making subtle gestures of tension, picking at my nails as I concealed my unease.
My fingers brushed the edge of my sleeve, occasionally twisting the hem. At times, my hands would clench and then release, subtly wringing the fabric between my fingers. I bowed my head slightly, casting sidelong glances his way without lingering too long.
Chad's attention remained on the files before him, the crisp sound of pages shifting under his long, graceful fingers. His movements were calm and decisive, yet there was an aloofness to them that made him seem utterly unreachable.
After a moment, he stopped and looked up, fixing me with a cold, appraising stare.
"Miss Edwards," he said in a low, icy tone, his voice carrying a wintry chill, "what exactly do you need from me?"
The abruptness of his question startled me, and I hesitated for a fraction of a second. Regaining my composure, I took a breath and stammered, "I… I'm sorry. I was just… curious. You never seem to mention your fiancee. Is it because… she's passed away?"
As soon as the words left my mouth, the room's atmosphere thickened, and the temperature seemed to drop.
There was no hint of guilt or remorse in my voice.
After all, the person standing before him was none other than his supposedly "dead" fiancee.
I was asking about my own life—why should I feel any shame?
In truth, I didn't care if this question would bring him pain. I knew full well that he was the killer.
Chad's expression faltered briefly, his gaze dimming as he lowered it, as if reluctant to meet my eyes.
After a heavy silence, he looked down, appearing lost in some complex emotion. He didn't answer, instead picking up his pen to continue scribbling on the files, perhaps trying to bury his turmoil in work.
But I saw the subtle shift.
From the initial shock in his eyes when I brought it up, to the barely concealed sorrow that settled between his brows, followed by the quiet desolation that filled him as he resumed working.
His gaze dimmed, clearly unwilling to revisit those memories.
At last, he spoke, his voice hoarse yet steady. "I don't know what your purpose is in approaching me."
He paused, his gaze shifting downward as though searching for words within himself, and when he spoke again, his voice softened, yet his tone remained resolute.
"Whatever the circumstances, love is not something that bends to convenience or expectation. I have only ever loved my fiancee. Whether she remains among the living or rests beyond, she is and always will be my only love." His words held a raw honesty, an unyielding loyalty that seemed almost unshakable.
"As for my career," he continued, a slight edge sharpening his voice, "every accomplishment, every step I've taken has been because of my own determination, my own hard work. I rely on my efforts alone—not the influence or wealth of others. That is something I hold firm." He paused, and his gaze grew distant, as if peering into the life he'd long envisioned for himself.
Finally, his voice dropped, tinged with a quiet bitterness that bordered on defiance. "And when it comes to status, to power—especially the role of Miss Edwards's husband," he said, a bitter laugh escaping him, "I have no interest in titles or playing a part in someone else's life. That position holds no appeal for me."
His tone was calm and resolute, leaving no room for ambiguity, as though drawing an insurmountable line between us.
His gaze, once warm, was now frigid, as though he were setting a boundary that would never be crossed.
His words cut through whatever remnants of emotion remained, severing any lingering bond between us.
A pang shot through my chest as I realized the bitter irony. Once, he had been endlessly attentive to my every thought, reading my moods with meticulous care, always accommodating and considerate. And now, his coldness made it clear that he was no longer the Chad I had known.
Or perhaps, his treatment of Lianora had always been different from how he regarded others.
Maybe he had already seen through my motives.
No matter how carefully I probed, I couldn't breach the walls of his detachment, leaving me feeling as though every move I made was an open book to him. Even more surprising, he seemed almost amused, as if mocking my childish attempts at manipulation.
Despite the surge of frustration within me, I knew Chad remained my only bridge into the Edwards family. He was my only potential avenue to reach Lugh and uncover the secrets of Sky Cities' inner workings.
The atmosphere in the office was painfully tense, the silence pressing down heavily. Under his cold gaze, A mixture of discomfort and helplessness filled me as I realized I had completely lost my footing.
In the end, I could only whisper, "I'm sorry," my voice so quiet it was nearly inaudible, before turning and quickly leaving the office.
As soon as I stepped out, a wave of defeat washed over me, flooding my chest.
Though my plan had failed this time…
I was certain this setback was merely the beginning of my strategy.