ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 106: Never touched her

Demian fell silent. For a moment, he couldn’t find the right words. He was used to facing resistance with anger or commands, but Valerie’s calm cool and rational left him unsteady.

Valerie turned her gaze away again. "So if you want to come closer," she said lightly but firmly, "bathe first. I’m trying to take care of myself... and your child."

Demian stood there for several seconds, then finally turned toward the bathroom without a word. The door closed softly, but the echo of Valerie’s words lingered in the air.

On the bed, Valerie lay down slowly, one hand still resting on her belly. She didn’t cry. She wasn’t angry. Just tired and for the first time, she chose to protect herself, even if that meant keeping her distance from Demian. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Demian stood a few steps from the bed when he finally emerged from the bathroom. His hair was still damp, droplets of water falling slowly onto the marble floor. His body was clean, composed, and the fresh scent of him filled the room an aroma Valerie knew too well, too closely tied to memories of nights that had never been truly simple.

Valerie found herself staring at him without realizing it. For too long.

Something strange paused in her chest. In her mind, she knew what usually followed moments like this Demian would come closer, pull her into an embrace that left no room to refuse. But this time was different. Instead of bracing herself, Valerie felt her body grow warm, open, even wanting that closeness. The realization startled her.

Demian caught her gaze. He did not move closer right away, as if waiting for an unspoken permission.

And it was precisely then that Valerie spoke.

"What did you do with Ivanka?"

The question fell plainly, flat yet heavy with meaning. Demian stopped mid-step, his brows knitting slightly.

"What do you mean?" he asked, genuinely not understanding where this was going.

Valerie swallowed. She straightened her back, forcing herself to remain calm. "I want to know," she said softly but clearly. "Did you sleep with her. Did you do... all the things we do."

The words made the air feel heavier. Demian looked at Valerie for a long moment, then moved closer slowly, without haste until he stood beside the bed.

"Only you," he said at last, his voice low and steady.

Valerie gave a small scoff, a crooked smile forming at the corner of her lips—more a shield than mockery. "Not before?"

Demian didn’t answer right away. He let out a short breath, then said honestly, "I never touched Ivanka beyond a kiss."

Valerie pressed her lips together. Her fingers clenched the bedsheet, not out of anger, but because of the tangled emotions rising within her. A small, unwelcome relief surfaced, followed immediately by guilt for feeling relieved at all. She hated the fact that his confession mattered to her.

Demian sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectful distance. "I know you don’t trust easily," he said quietly. "And I’m not asking you to."

Valerie looked toward the window. "I’m not asking because I’m jealous," she said softly. "I’m asking because I need to know... whether I’m just a place you pass through, caught between a bond that hasn’t been resolved."

Demian fell silent. The words struck straight at the center of his awareness. He turned to look at Valerie not as a man accustomed to commanding, but as someone trying to be honest.

"You are not a place I pass through," he said at last. "You are a reality I never planned for, but one I can no longer ignore."

Valerie let out a small, bitter laugh. "Reality is often painful," she said.

Demian nodded. "I know."

Silence wrapped around them again. There was no touch, no insistence. Yet it was precisely within that distance that Valerie felt something more frightening than desire she felt an attachment growing without her realizing it.

Her gaze dropped to her abdomen, her hand moving slowly, instinctively protective.

"I only want one thing," she said quietly. "Honesty. Even if it hurts."

Demian looked at her for a long time, then said, "I’ll give it to you. Even though I don’t yet know how to fix all of this."

Valerie nodded faintly. It wasn’t enough to make her feel safe but it was enough to make her stay one more night.

Valerie fell silent for a long moment before finally speaking again. Her hands rested atop the blanket, fingers interlaced as if holding something together something that might collapse if she let go.

"So," she said softly, almost in a whisper, "how do you truly feel about Ivanka?"

The question was simple, yet heavy with meaning. Demian did not answer right away. He drew a slow breath, then sat up straighter, his gaze hardening as though he were arranging his own thoughts.

"I’m not entirely sure," he said at last. "What I do know is this... whatever I feel for her is almost nothing."

Valerie let out a quiet laugh bitter, stripped of any trace of humor. She shook her head slightly.

"I don’t believe you," she said honestly. "Not with everything I’ve seen. Not with the way you can never truly let go of her."

Demian turned to her sharply. A flash of offense crossed his eyes.

"You don’t know anything," he said firmly. "So don’t speak as if you understand it all."

The words cut deep, but Valerie did not retreat. Instead, she lifted her face and met his gaze with a courage she had held back for far too long.

"Maybe I don’t know everything," she said calmly, clearly. "But I see. I see the way you respond to her, the way you go back to her, the way you stand between two worlds without ever truly choosing one."

Demian clenched his fist."What you see doesn’t always mean what you think it does."

Valerie shook her head."I don’t need to prove anything," she murmured. "I don’t need proof to understand that Ivanka still occupies far too much space in your life."

Silence fell between them heavy, pressing.

Demian turned his face away for a moment, his jaw tightening."That bond can’t simply be severed," he said at last. "This isn’t just about feelings."