ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 131: Coax and seduce

There was no answer.

Sera tried next. She carried a small tray warm bread, clear soup, a glass of milk. She rested her forehead against the door, just as Demian had done the night before, but with a different kind of pain.

"My lady... you are pregnant. You cannot do this."

Silence.

The door had become a wall.

Hour after hour passed. The sun climbed higher. The castle stirred to life servants’ footsteps, the clink of tableware yet one room on the upper floor remained frozen in stillness.

And Demian...

Demian unraveled.

He was in his study, the windows thrown wide open, but the cold air did nothing to calm him. His desk was crowded with untouched documents. His tea had gone cold long ago.

"How long?" he asked sharply.

"Since last night, Your Grace," one of the head servants replied hesitantly. "Lady Valerie has not come out. She hasn’t eaten."

The words hasn’t eaten made Demian’s jaw tighten.

"Damn it," he muttered.

He stood, pacing, running a hand through his hair. The turmoil was no longer anger it was fear he didn’t know how to put into words.

"You," he said suddenly, pointing at Sera. "Make sure the soup stays warm. Replace it if it cools."

"Your Grace, she won’t open the door—"

"Keep trying!" he snapped, then drew a harsh breath and lowered his voice. "Don’t force her. Don’t make her shut herself in even more."

He turned to another servant.

"Lira, sit outside her door. Don’t leave. If she coughs, if she vomits, if there’s even the smallest sound report to me."

Everyone fell silent.

Demian pressed his palm to the desk.

"She has to eat," he said more softly, almost to himself. "She is carrying my child."

The sentence weighed heavily in the room.

"I don’t care how," he continued, his voice firm but fraying at the edges. "Plead. Wait. Sit on the floor if you must. But make sure she drinks. Even a little."

He lifted his face eyes red from lack of sleep.

"If anything happens to Valerie or to that child... I—"

He stopped. He didn’t finish the sentence.

Because for the first time, everyone in the room saw him not as the feared Duke, but as a man who had lost control.

Behind the bedroom door, Valerie heard everything.

Every voice.Every footstep.Every concern that had finally come too late.

She sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, her arms wrapped around her belly. The soup outside the door sent up a faint steam its scent made her stomach tighten, but her heart was harder than her hunger.

"I’m not hungry," she whispered, to no one in particular. "I’m just... tired."

Tears fell silently.

Not because she wanted Demian to suffer. Not because she wished to punish anyone.

She only wanted one morning just one where she didn’t have to be understanding, didn’t have to be strong, didn’t have to give way for the sake of someone else’s peace.

And in the study, Demian finally sat down, covering his face with both hands.

For the first time, he understood, power could not open that door.

And his greatest fear was not losing Valerie... but realizing that this time, he might truly have wounded her too deeply.

Night descended slowly, like a heavy blanket deliberately pulled tight to suffocate the castle.

The corridor lamps had been lit for hours, yet one door on the upper floor remained closed silent, unresponsive, refusing the world.

Valerie had not opened that door all day.

Not for Lira. Not for Sera. Not for anyone.

The food had been replaced more times than anyone could count. The soup warmed, then cooled. The bread hardened, then was thrown away. The water remained full never touched.

And Demian... grew more restless by the hour in his study.

He no longer sat. He no longer read. He simply stood by the window, staring into the darkness, as if the night itself might offer him an answer.

Sean the captain of the guard who had served him for years finally gathered the courage to speak.

"Your Grace," he said softly, carefully. "Perhaps... Lady Valerie does not wish to be persuaded by anyone else."

Demian did not turn.

"Perhaps," Sean continued, his voice calm but honest, "the one she is waiting for... is you."

The words lingered in the air.

Demian’s pride was dragged forcibly to the surface questioned, stripped bare, tested to its limits.

He, a duke. He, master of this castle. He, who gave orders never begged.

His hands clenched.

"I tried last night," he said coldly.

Sean lowered his head. "Tonight is different, Your Grace."

Silence.

Long.

Then, stiffly, Demian reached for his coat.

"Go," he ordered everyone. "Leave the corridor."

No one dared argue.

His footsteps on the stairs were heavy not with anger, but with something far more humiliating to him: fear.

He stopped before the door.

Valerie’s door.

"Valerie," he called. Not loudly. Not commandingly.

No answer.

He swallowed. "I... I just want you to eat a little."

Stillness.

"If you’re angry with me," his voice lowered, "you’re allowed to be. But please—answer me."

No footsteps. No movement. Not even the sound of breathing from behind the door.

Demian’s heart began to race wildly.

"Valerie," his tone changed now, faster, tighter. "Answer me."

He knocked. Once. Twice.

"Valerie!"

Nothing.

His chest felt hollow as though something inside him had collapsed all at once.

"Open the door," he said sharply, even though he knew no one would. "Now."

Silence.

And in that instant, fear took full control.

Demian stepped back once, then,

CRASH!

The door burst open.

Wood splintered, hinges screamed, and Demian stumbled inside, breath ragged,

"Valerie!"

The room was dark, the air stifling. The curtains were tightly drawn. On the floor, near the bed,

Valerie lay motionless.

Her face was pale. Her lips nearly colorless. Her hair was damp with cold sweat, her body chilled as Demian dropped to his knees and gathered her into his arms.

"No... no, no, no—"

His hands shook as he touched Valerie’s cheek. No response.

"Valerie! Look at me! Open your eyes!" 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Panic twisted into something terrifying.

"DOCTOR!" he roared toward the corridor. "GET THE DOCTOR, NOW!"

Footsteps thundered. Shouts tore through the night.

Demian held Valerie tightly, pressing his forehead to her cold hair.

"Don’t you dare leave me," he whispered roughly, his voice breaking. "I’m not done talking to you."