ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 134: The bond

Ivanka rose as well, her face paling. "Demian. You can’t do this. Our bond—"

"I can," Demian cut in, meeting her gaze squarely. "And I am."

Ivanka’s mother half-stood, her voice trembling with restrained fury. "You will destroy everything! Reputations! Agreements! Futures!"

"Whose future?" Demian asked quietly. "The Kosler family’s? The elders’? Or mine?"

Count Kosler rose fully now. "If you refuse to marry Ivanka," he said coldly, "you will face the consequences. Our support will be withdrawn."

Demian nodded once. "I have already accounted for that."

Silence fell. Heavy. Threatening.

Ivanka looked at Demian, her eyes no longer gentle. "So you choose her," she said softly, almost a whisper. "A woman you cannot even give status to."

Demian met her gaze. For a moment, something in his eyes cracked yet his voice remained steady. "I choose not to lie for the rest of my life."

He reached for his coat.

"I have stated my decision," he continued. "This bond will not continue. If you choose to make an enemy of me because of it, that is your right."

Demian inclined his head briefly not as a plea, but as a final punctuation.

And with that, he turned away.

Demian’s steps halted right at the threshold.

That sentence—calm, cold, and laced with poison—hung in the air like an invisible blade.

"Demian," one of the elders spoke again, softer now, yet far more threatening, "do you wish for what happened before to happen again?"

The room froze.

Demian did not turn immediately. His shoulders stiffened, his jaw clenched tight. Several seconds passed before he slowly faced the table once more—the dining room now feeling less like a hall of hospitality and more like a court of judgment.

"What do you mean?" he finally asked. His voice was low, but a subtle tremor betrayed him.

The elder folded his arms, his gaze sharp as it pierced through time itself."You know exactly what we mean. Like your father."He paused deliberately, savoring the weight of his words."Do you wish to repeat the same mistake he made?"

Ivanka flinched. Her expression changed—not to anger, but shock. Even Count Kosler visibly tensed.

That name.That shadow.

Demian’s father.

A man once loved by the people, then brought down just as cruelly by the elders—under the banners of honor, bonds, and stability. A man who chose a woman... and paid dearly for it.

Demian stepped back into the room. One step. Then another. Until he stood directly before the table.

"Do not," he said quietly, "use my father to threaten me."

The elder smiled thinly. "We are not threatening you. We are reminding you."

"Reminding me?" Demian gave a short, bitter laugh. "My father was exiled. His reputation destroyed. The woman he loved was erased. And you call that a reminder?"

Ivanka’s mother finally spoke, her voice tight with strain. "Demian, all of that happened because your father defied the order. We do not wish the same fate for you."

"Do not wish," Demian repeated. "Or fear losing control?"

Silence fell again. Heavier this time.

The elder leaned forward. "You are Duke Morvex. His blood runs through your veins. And the history of your family is always the same you choose with your heart, not your head."

Demian clenched his fists. For a moment, fragments of childhood flashed through his mind his mother crying quietly, his father smiling with weary acceptance, as if he had always known how their story would end.

"My father loved," Demian said slowly. "That was not a mistake."

"Love without calculation is a disaster," the elder replied sharply.

Demian lifted his head. His eyes burned not only with anger, but with resolve."Then," he said firmly, "let me bear my own disaster."

Ivanka stepped forward, just one step. "Demian," she said, her voice now almost pleading, "if you leave now, there will be no path back. You know that."

Demian turned to her. For the first time that night, his gaze was not cold but exhausted.

"I know," he said softly. "And that is precisely why I cannot stay."

He faced the elders again. "If you wish to repeat history, that is your choice. But do not pretend it is for my sake."

He took his coat fully now, draping it over his shoulders.

"My father may have lost," he continued, his voice low but unwavering, "but he never regretted his choice. And I... I would rather live with consequences than live with regret."

The door opened.

The night wind rushed in, carrying its chill with it, yet Demian did not hesitate.

"If this means I must walk the same path," he said before stepping out, "then at least I walk it with open eyes."

The door closed behind him.

In the dining room, returned to silence, Ivanka stood rigid, her hands trembling. The elders exchanged glances not of triumph, but of unease.

Because for the first time...

Duke Morvex was no longer afraid of the shadows of the past.

Ivanka’s fury erupted the moment the door closed and Demian’s footsteps fully disappeared from the hall.

"What was that?" her voice rose sharply, shattering the silence left behind by Duke Morvex. "You just let him walk away like that?"

Marquess Kosler Ivanka’s father shot up from his chair, his face flushed red. His fist slammed into the dining table, making the silverware tremble."This is outrageous," he growled. "You are the elders. You hold power, law, and tradition. You should have been harder on him."

The elders did not respond immediately. Their aged faces remained calm too calm as if Kosler’s anger and Ivanka’s outrage were nothing more than passing drafts of air.

Ivanka stepped forward, the silk of her gown rustling sharply."You invoked his father’s name," she said coldly, "but only halfway. If you truly wanted to pressure him, you should have reminded him of what really happened to his father. Not some hollow warning."

One of the elders let out a long breath."Lady Ivanka," he said slowly, "Demian is not his father."