Marked By the Pureblood Alpha (Deanna and Luis) novel Chapter 225

**The Heart I Buried for You by Serene Lockwood**
**Chapter 225: I Came to Pick Up My Things**

Deanna’s POV:

As soon as I hung up the phone, an overwhelming rush of urgency surged through me, like a tidal wave crashing against the shore. I quickly shed my previous outfit, opting for something simple yet comfortable—a crisp white T-shirt that felt refreshing against my skin, paired with snug jeans that hugged my figure just right. To guard against the evening chill that crept in like an unwelcome guest, I draped a medium-length brown coat over my shoulders. Its soft, warm fabric provided a small semblance of comfort amidst the tumult of emotions swirling within me.

With a heart full of determination, I stepped out into the vibrant chaos of the city streets, the cacophony of life swirling around me like a tempest. I flagged down a cab, my pulse quickening with each tick of the clock, each second a reminder of the confrontation that awaited me. The driver navigated through familiar streets, and as the scenery whirled by, a knot of anticipation and dread coiled tightly in my stomach. After what felt like an eternity, we finally arrived at Crestwood Park.

As I exited the cab, a wave of mixed emotions washed over me—excitement intertwined with trepidation. I inhaled deeply, trying to steady my racing heart, and made my way to the elevator. The ride up to the 66th floor felt interminable, each second stretching into infinity as the elevator’s soft ding echoed eerily in the silence, the doors sliding open to reveal the familiar threshold of my past.

Stepping into the apartment, I was immediately engulfed by the ethereal glow of crystal chandeliers illuminating the vast living room. The sight was both breathtaking and haunting, a stark reminder of the life I had once shared with Luis. The expansive floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city’s neon lights, twinkling like a galaxy of stars, casting shimmering reflections on the glass—each glimmer a painful reminder of the happiness that had once filled this space.

The living room lay in heavy silence, its emptiness amplifying the weight of my memories. I hesitated at the entrance, my heart pounding in my chest, as if I were trespassing into a sacred sanctuary. Time seemed to freeze until the sound of deliberate footsteps shattered the stillness.

One step at a time.

I lifted my gaze to see Luis emerge from his room, his expression lost in thought. He wore the same handmade Italian black shirt and dress pants that had caught my eye earlier in the day. Yet, there was something different about him now—an unsettling air of danger that hung around him, shifting his demeanor from stern to something more menacing.

Without uttering a single word, he strode purposefully to the liquor cabinet, his movements fluid and confident. He retrieved a bottle of whiskey, uncorked it with practiced ease, and poured himself a generous glass. The sound of liquid filling the glass broke the silence, and then he downed it in one swift motion, the soft sound of his swallowing resonating in the quiet room, oddly captivating.

His gaze locked onto mine, piercing and intense. A moment stretched between us, thick with unspoken words, until I finally broke the silence, my voice steadying itself. “I came to pick up my things.”

Luis regarded me with a mix of amusement and indifference, his lips curving into a half-smile that sent a shiver down my spine. “Go ahead, then. What, do you want me to invite you in?”

A rush of indignation surged through me, momentarily stealing my voice. “Fine. Sorry to intrude.”

With a resigned breath, I stepped further into the apartment.

The space remained unchanged, a time capsule of our life together. Each piece of furniture, every trinket, seemed to hold a memory, and Crestwood Park, once feeling cold and empty, now brimmed with echoes of laughter and love. A sudden realization washed over me like a wave—I had lived here with Luis for two whole months. The thought was both comforting and painful, a bittersweet reminder of what once was. I shook my head, trying to dispel the memories that threatened to engulf me, and made my way to the storage room to grab a box.

I began gathering my belongings, tossing everything I had used into the box without a second thought, disregarding their sentimental value. The act felt strangely cathartic yet heavy, as if I were packing away pieces of my heart, each item a reminder of our shared moments.

Luis remained behind me, an imposing figure in the background, silently sipping glass after glass of whiskey. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and I could feel his presence like a storm brewing just beyond the horizon.

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