ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 56: I’m not selling myself

The air grew heavier.

"I won’t," Valerie said softly but firmly. "I’m not a parasite."

Bianca laughed again.

"A parasite?" she mocked. "Then what do you think you are now?"

Valerie ignored her.

"I also don’t want the Duke to misunderstand," she went on. "I don’t want him to think—"

"Misunderstand?" Count Austin cut in sharply. "Since when have you cared about feelings?"

He stepped closer.

"Remember this well, Valerie. You are nothing more than a woman warming the Duke’s bed."

Valerie felt her chest tighten, yet her face remained calm.

"Once the Duke marries," Count Austin continued without hesitation,

"you could be discarded."

Countess Austin nodded, her voice now cold, stripped of all pretense.

"That’s exactly why," she said, "you should be filling your coffers now." "If not, how will you live later?"

Bianca curled her lips into a grin.

"Don’t tell me," she said, "you plan to crawl back to this family with nothing once the Duke throws you away?"

The room was silent.

Not a peaceful silence, but one thick with poison.

Valerie stood in the middle of them alone, surrounded by people who should have been her family, yet who spoke to her as if she were a temporary commodity.

She lowered her gaze for a moment.

Not in defeat. But because she was holding back something far more dangerous than anger.

When Valerie lifted her face again, her eyes were calm, too calm.

"If I must survive," she said quietly, "I will do so in my own way."

She looked straight at her father.

"Not by selling myself any further."

Count Austin’s fury finally exploded without restraint.

His face flushed deep red, the veins at his temples standing out as his jaw clenched as though he might crush anything before him. The wooden cane he had been gripping struck the marble floor once more harder this time, rougher, carrying an outpouring of emotion no longer filtered by the dignity of a nobleman.

"Impudent!" he shouted, his voice echoing violently off the walls of the castle’s sitting room. "You dare speak to me like that?"

Valerie stood directly in front of him.

Her posture was straight, her chin slightly lifted. There was no trembling in her hands, no quaver in her voice. She did not raise her tone, did not lash back with emotion and it was precisely that calm that drove her father’s anger even further.

"Whether Father is angry or not is irrelevant," Valerie said flatly, without defiance and without fear. "The truth is... I truly don’t have any money."

The words fell softly, yet struck like stone.

Countess Austin immediately stepped forward, her skirts rustling sharply. Her expression tightened, eyes narrowing, her voice trembling between panic and suppressed rage.

"So you would let your father beg the Duke?" she snapped. "You’re willing to drag this family down to that level?"

Valerie turned to her slowly.

Her gaze was steady, unblinking. There was no guilt in it—only cold clarity.

"That won’t happen," she replied calmly. "If Father still has any shame."

The words landed like a hard slap.

The room suddenly felt smaller.

Jester, who had been standing rigidly to the side, finally stepped forward. His jaw was tight, his eyes full of accusation.

"You’ve really changed," he said coldly. "An unfilial child. Just by standing at the Duke’s side, you’ve already grown this arrogant."

Valerie looked at him.

Her gaze shifted not angry, but cold, like the surface of a frozen lake.

"I would not be like this," she said quietly, each word clear and cutting, "if you knew your place."

She drew a deep breath before continuing. This time, her voice carried weight, as though each word bore the burden she had carried alone for years.

"You’ve already been given so much by the Duke," she said. "Money from the mine. Gifts. Protection."

Her eyes swept over them one by one her father, her stepmother, her brother, and Bianca.

"And yet it’s still not enough."

Her tone sharpened—not louder, but colder.

"What do you take me for? A machine that produces money?"

Bianca let out a soft laugh, dripping with mockery. She folded her arms across her chest, her smile sharp, laden with the superiority she had long concealed.

"You don’t understand mutually beneficial relationships," she said condescendingly. "No wonder the Duke chose you as a kept woman rather than a wife."

The word kept woman was spoken deliberately slowly, clearly, cruelly.

"Perhaps the Duke knows," Bianca continued with a sneering smile, "what you’re really like."

Valerie did not answer at once.

She looked at Bianca for a long moment, too long until that smile stiffened, then slowly faded.

"If you don’t know anything," Valerie said at last, her voice low and cold, "it would be better if you spoke less."

Bianca frowned."What do you mean?"

Valerie smiled faintly.

Not a warm smile.Not a satisfied one.

But a sharp smile, like a freshly honed blade.

"Because now," she continued calmly, "whether you marry into a rich family or a poor one... depends on me."

The room fell utterly silent.

Even breathing felt too loud.

"Father will never allow you to marry your poor lover," Valerie added without the slightest hesitation. "And you know that."

"VALERIE!" Bianca screamed, her face flushing with rage and humiliation.

Count Austin jolted and turned sharply toward Bianca."What does that mean?" he demanded "You’re still seeing Eduardo?"

Bianca froze.

Her face drained of color, her lips pressed tightly together.

Valerie spoke before Bianca could deny it.

"There’s no way he can escape this," Valerie said calmly almost coldly."What wealthy noble would marry a woman who is no longer a virgin?"

The words fell without emotion.

And precisely because of that, they were devastating.

Bianca recoiled as if struck."You—!"

Countess Austin covered her mouth, eyes wide. Jester stared at Bianca in disbelief. Meanwhile, Count Austin stood frozen, his expression slowly shifting from anger to a focused, terrifying fury.

Valerie stood in the middle of them all.

She knew her words were destructive.She knew she had just burned the last remaining bridge.

But for the first time in her life,she did not retreat.

"You did not come here as family," Valerie said quietly. "You came as collectors."

She looked straight at her father.

"And I belong to no one to be exploited."

The silence that followed was no longer poisonous it was fractured.

Because that day, Valerie did more than refuse to give them money.

She tore away the control they had held over her for so long.

Countess Austin let out a long sigh, as if finally realizing that raised voices and threats no longer worked. Her expression slowly shifted not into softness, but into something sly, calculating. She stepped a little closer, lowering her voice, shaping it to sound almost understanding.

"In that case..." she said carefully, nearly coaxing, "if you truly have no money, how about giving us a few of your jewels instead?"

She lifted her chin, her eyes raking over Valerie from head to toe.

"Those jewels belong to you, don’t they?" she continued. "We could sell them. Especially the necklace you’re wearing—"