ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 105: Are you angry because I left?

Demian turned and walked away without looking back.

Far away, unbeknownst to him, Valerie stood behind the castle window, staring out at the empty courtyard with a shattered heart. She thought Demian had left her behind she did not know that he had just chosen to stand between two worlds bent on destroying each other.

And from that night on, everything changed.

It was no longer about who was loved.

But about who would survive.

After Demian left leaving behind air still trembling with threats and words that could never be taken back Ivanka stood alone in the room for a long time. Her hands were clenched, her nails digging into her palms until they hurt, yet the pain was nothing compared to the storm raging in her chest.

She turned sharply, her steps quick and cutting, her gown whispering in the wake of her fury. Without hesitation, Ivanka headed for the eastern wing where her father usually spent his nights buried in reports and political calculations.

The door to the study flew open.

"Father," Ivanka said without preamble, her voice shaking yet firm. "We have to do something."

Marquess Kosler slowly lifted his head from his desk. His face, usually composed, hardened at the sight of his daughter’s expression. "What is it now?" he asked carefully.

Ivanka strode closer, her eyes glittering with panic she refused to acknowledge. "Demian," she said quickly. "He has no intention of leaving that woman. Valerie. She’s carrying his child."

Silence fell like a heavy shadow.

The Marquess leaned back in his chair, drawing a long breath. "Then what do you expect us to do now?" he asked quietly, but with a sharp edge. "Demian is not just anyone, Ivanka. He is not a man we can bend with threats or tears."

Ivanka shook her head fiercely. "Father, I don’t want to lose him."

The Marquess studied her for a long moment, as if seeing not only his daughter, but the last card in a dangerous game they were playing.

"Do you think I want to lose him?" he said at last, his tone turning cold. "Without Demian, we are nothing. All our influence, all our protection it disappears in an instant."

He rose and walked toward her until only a few steps separated them.

"Now listen to me carefully," he continued. "Do something. Make him submit."

Ivanka fell silent. The words echoed in her mind.

"I can’t," she said finally, more softly. "Not while that woman is still by his side."

Marquess Kosler stopped. His brows drew together, his eyes narrowing with calculation.

"Then," he said slowly, "there is something we must understand first."

He turned toward the window, staring into the darkness of the night.

"What is really happening?" he asked. "Morvex should not be interested in another woman. Not Demian. Not after being bound to a partner since childhood."

Ivanka bit her lip, her chest tightening. "I don’t know," she said, her voice breaking with frustration. "All I know is that woman she’s a damned, shameless wretch. She came from nowhere and ruined everything."

The Marquess shot her a sharp look. "Do not let your emotions blind you," he said coldly. "If Demian is willing to defy his instincts and his blood-bound bond, then something here is far from ordinary."

Ivanka said nothing, but the hatred on her face did not fade.

"Whatever she did," she muttered, "she managed to turn Demian to her side. He even threatened me."

Marquess Kosler narrowed his eyes, his mind moving swiftly.

"Then," he said at last, "we cannot attack her directly. We must be smarter."

Ivanka turned to him, hope and fury intertwined in her gaze. "What do you mean, Father?"

The Marquess smiled thinly a smile devoid of any warmth.

"If that bond cannot be broken by force," he said, "then we will find a way to make it collapse on its own."

Ivanka clenched her fists, her heart pounding.

"That woman," she said softly, venom dripping from every word, "will not last long."

Inside that room, father and daughter stared at one another no longer speaking of love or the future, but of strategy, destruction, and how to preserve power at any cost.

And far beyond their awareness, Valerie was carrying something that was not merely Demian’s child but a spark capable of setting their entire world ablaze.

Demian had just entered the bedroom when Valerie climbed onto the bed with slow, careful steps. Her nightgown brushed the floor, her body visibly weary not only from physical exhaustion, but from something far heavier. She was about to lie down when Demian’s footsteps approached from behind.

"Valerie," he called softly. "Are you still upset?"

Valerie paused, then sat on the edge of the bed. She did not turn around. Her gaze drifted instead to the window, toward the dark night that felt more honest than anyone’s eyes in that room.

"I thought you weren’t coming home," she said quietly.

Demian fell silent for a moment. He stepped closer. "Are you upset because I didn’t come home?"

Valerie didn’t answer. The silence that formed was sharper than any words.

Demian reached out, about to touch her shoulder, but Valerie shifted slightly and said without looking back, "You haven’t bathed."

His hand froze in midair.

He frowned, then as if only just realizing something lifted his collar and smelled it himself. The unfamiliar scent clinging there made his jaw tighten.

"Do I smell?" he asked, half in disbelief.

Valerie finally turned. Her gaze was calm too calm.

"Yes," she said honestly. "You smell like another woman. Now go bathe before you come near me."

Demian exhaled, not in anger, but in surprise.

"You’re really more straightforward now," he said.

Valerie gave a small smile, one with no warmth in it at all.

"Of course I am," she replied. "Didn’t you say you wanted this child to be born?"

Demian frowned. "What does that have to do with this?"

Valerie looked at him this time directly, without avoidance.

"That bond," she said softly, her hand instinctively resting on her abdomen. "And this child... they’re strong. But if the mother is stressed, then your child can be affected too."

She drew a slow breath, her voice even but weighted with meaning.

"I don’t want to be stressed," she continued. "And I don’t want to lose my mind just because I’m upset with you."