ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 120: Well-founded suspicion

Demian was quiet for a moment. Then, in his usual way direct, without warning he asked,

"So... do you love me?"

Valerie turned sharply.

Surprise crossed her face. Not because the question hurt, but because of how abruptly Demian had steered the conversation there, as if the world only had two points: logic, and himself.

"Demian," she said, almost in disbelief. "I’m talking about Bianca. Not us."

Demian looked at her for a long time.

And for the first time, Valerie saw something that rarely appeared on his face not anger, not absolute certainty, but a small confusion he didn’t bother to hide.

"It may be easy for you to separate the two," Valerie continued more quietly. "But for Bianca, love is the only thing she has. Just like back then... all I had was myself."

Demian let out a slow breath. He stepped closer, close enough to make Valerie look back at him.

"You’re not asking for permission," he said. "You just want me to understand."

Valerie nodded. "I don’t want to decide someone else’s life the way mine was once decided."

Demian was silent for a long time this time.

Then he spoke, his voice lower, more restrained.

"If you help her, it’s not because you’re weak. But don’t forget you’re not alone anymore."

Valerie looked at him.

For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Because beneath all their differences in thinking, there was one thing she was beginning to realize clearly,

Demian might not always understand love the way she did,

but he was learning...

and he was doing it for Valerie.

At last, Valerie voiced the question that had been settling heavily in her chest.

"Do you think... helping her is the right thing to do?"

Demian looked at her closely. He didn’t answer right away. By now, he knew Valerie well enough she wouldn’t ask if something inside her weren’t deeply unsettled.

"Do you suspect something?" he asked instead.

Valerie nodded slowly. The movement was small, but it carried weight.

"Yes," she said honestly. "Of course I do. Bianca and I have never had a good relationship. One could even say it’s been... bad. So the suspicion is there. And it’s very strong."

She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold something in not tears, but an old unease that had never fully healed.

"I’m not foolish," she continued. "I know she didn’t come to me only out of desperation. There’s something that feels... too neat. Her request. Her reasoning. As if she had thought everything through from the very beginning."

Demian listened without interrupting.

"But," Valerie’s voice softened slightly, "I also know what it feels like to be trapped. What it feels like to want to run away and have no one at all. And that makes me hesitate whether this suspicion of mine is fair... or merely an old wound that hasn’t closed."

Demian stepped closer, stopping right in front of her.

"Suspicion is not a fault," he said quietly. "It’s instinct. And your instincts have never been wrong."

Valerie looked at him. "Then what do you think?"

Demian was silent for a moment, then said calmly, "If you feel suspicious, then don’t help her blindly. Help her with conditions. With boundaries. With supervision."

Valerie frowned. "You’re not forbidding me?"

"No," Demian replied. "Because if I forbid you now, you’ll keep thinking about it. You’ll wonder for the rest of your life whether you should have helped her."

He lifted Valerie’s hand, holding it firmly.

"But if you do help her," he continued, "you won’t do it alone. She will be under my roof. In my territory. And under my protection as long as you want it to be so."

Valerie fell silent. Her heart beat faster, not from fear, but from something warm and heavy all at once.

"And if my suspicions are right?" she asked softly.

Demian’s gaze hardened not cold, but resolute.

"Then she won’t be dealing with you," he said. "She’ll be dealing with me."

Valerie looked at him for a long moment.

For the first time, she realized that choosing to trust no longer meant standing alone in the face of risk. And choosing to be wary no longer made her feel cruel.

She nodded slowly.

"All right," she said at last. "I’ll help her... but with my eyes open."

Demian nodded once. "That’s the right decision."

And in Valerie’s heart, a feeling slowly took shape not just relief, but the certainty that whatever happened next, she would no longer face it alone.

The next day, Bianca returned to the castle.

Her face looked brighter than before, her steps light, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders the moment she learned that Valerie was willing to help her. As soon as she spotted Valerie in the sitting room, Bianca smiled a smile that came too quickly, too confidently.

"Thank you," she said almost without pause. "I knew you wouldn’t turn me away."

Valerie replied with a brief nod. Not warm, but not cold either.

"I’ve spoken with the head housekeeper," Valerie said calmly. "You’ll work under Dorote. She’s a senior maid. That’s where you’ll begin."

Bianca’s smile faltered slightly.

"Under Dorote?" she repeated. "So... I won’t be your personal maid?"

Valerie looked at her, her gaze clear and unwavering.

"No," she said. "I can’t, and won’t force the head housekeeper to give you the position you want."

Bianca frowned. "But you could ask. You’re the Lady of this castle."

"I know my limits," Valerie replied softly but firmly. "Working here at all is already good enough for you. You’ll have protection, a place to stay, and wages. That is more than sufficient."

There was a brief pause.

Bianca lowered her gaze, then smiled again this time thinner, more controlled.

"I just thought... perhaps it would be easier if I served you directly," she said carefully.

"That is precisely why I didn’t choose it," Valerie answered without raising her voice. "I want everything to be clear from the beginning. You work here as a servant. Not as my family. Not as a guest."

The words landed exactly where they were meant to.

Bianca exhaled, then nodded. "All right. I understand."

Yet Valerie caught something beneath that obedience a small glint that was hard to define. Not anger. More like... calculation.

"Dorote will train you," Valerie went on. "Follow her rules. Don’t look for shortcuts."