ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 174: Search for her to the ends of the earth

He was already on Gordon.

"You are my general," Demian snarled, grabbing Gordon by the collar and hauling him halfway off the floor. "I entrusted that castle to you. Her to you."

The second punch landed.

Not wild but precise, driven by two days of contained fury.

"Do you know what you did?!" Demian shouted. "You decided I didn’t need to know. You decided Valerie could wait."

A third blow.

Gordon did not resist. He did not raise his hands. He accepted every strike because in his own eyes, he deserved them.

"If she—" Demian’s voice broke, his rage cracking into something darker, more painful. "If anything happens to her—"

He released Gordon without warning.

The general collapsed back onto the floor, gasping, blood warm at the corner of his mouth. Demian did not look at him again.

Demian stepped back several paces, his hands trembling, his breathing heavy and uneven. The anger was still there but now it was mixed with something far more dangerous: fear.

"I am leaving," he said coldly, looking at no one. "I will return to the castle now."

Asher finally stepped forward. "Your Grace, Lady Ivanka."

Demian turned sharply. "There is no ’Ivanka’ right now."

His voice was sharp as a drawn blade.

"Prepare horses. Prepare the troops. Seal every gate in the territory."

He walked toward the door, then paused.

Without turning back, he spoke quietly yet clearly enough to make everyone in the room shudder:

"If Valerie is not found when I arrive... then hell will feel like mercy."

The door slammed shut behind him.

Asher knelt beside Gordon, helping the general sit up. Gordon let out a small, bitter laugh, even as his breathing remained ragged.

"He’s right," Gordon murmured softly. "We were all wrong."

Demian had already stepped out of the main hall of Castle Kosler when Ivanka stopped him.

"Demian."

Her voice sounded fragile, but her steps were quick too quick for someone who had just been declared ill. Her nightgown brushed against the marble floor as she positioned herself directly in front of the door, as if her own body were meant to be the final barrier.

"You can’t just leave," she said, her breath slightly uneven. "We’re married. Whatever happens, you are my husband."

Demian stopped.

He did not turn right away.

His hand remained on the door handle, his back straight, his jaw slowly tightening. For several seconds, there was only silence the kind that made Ivanka hope, and fear, at the same time.

"I can’t let you go," Ivanka continued, her voice trembling now. "People are already talking. If you leave me again,"

"What?" Demian finally turned.

The look in his eyes silenced her.

There was no gentleness there. No patience. Only exhaustion hardened into coldness.

"You’re worried about whispers," he said quietly, almost without emotion, "while someone in my territory has vanished."

Ivanka clasped her hands together. "I am your wife, Demian. Whatever is happening out there it doesn’t change your obligations to me."

Demian smiled faintly.

A smile that never reached his eyes.

"Don’t misunderstand," he said. "I remember exactly how I ended up in this position."

He stepped closer. Ivanka instinctively stepped back half a pace, yet forced herself to remain standing.

"You forced me into this marriage," Demian continued calmly too calmly. "With talk of last wishes. With stories of illness, of time running out."

Ivanka opened her mouth, but Demian did not let her speak.

"So listen carefully," he said low and sharp. "I have already complied."

His gaze dropped to the ring on Ivanka’s finger a symbol meant to be sacred, now feeling more like a shackle.

"You have your status," he went on. "Your name. Your title. Your protection."

Then his eyes lifted back to her face.

"Now," he said coldly, "don’t say too much. Enjoy all of it while you still can."

Ivanka went pale. "What do you mean...?"

Demian turned back to the door, yanking it open in a single hard motion.

"My meaning is simple," he replied without looking back. "My patience has limits."

He paused for a moment, just before stepping out.

"And if I discover even a single lie behind all of this," he added quietly his voice more dangerous than any shout,"you will learn what it feels like to lose everything including me."

Ivanka stood frozen as the door closed behind him.

The sound of Demian’s footsteps faded, growing more distant, until only silence remained and fear, now truly creeping into Ivanka’s chest.

Demian had not yet descended the main staircase when Ivanka’s voice shattered the air once more.

"Demian wait!"

She chased after him, careless of the stares from servants and guards alike. Her hair had come loose, her face pale, her breathing uneven yet her eyes burned with a panic she could no longer hide.

"You can’t act like this," she said breathlessly, stopping directly in front of him. "You have to remember who I am."

Demian stopped.

Ivanka lifted her chin, struggling to gather what remained of her authority."I am your wife," she said firmly. "And I am the future Duchess. You cannot abandon me whenever you please."

Demian looked at her.

The look was not angry.Not entirely cold either.

It was... assessing.

As though Ivanka were no longer his wife, but someone he was seeing clearly for the first time.

"We have a bond," Ivanka continued quickly, afraid of losing momentum. "We are married. You know that. And you know " her voice faltered, "If you let go of me... if you distance yourself from me... it will only hasten my death."

The word death lingered in the air.

Several guards held their breath.

Demian did not answer right away.

He stepped closer too close. Ivanka caught the scent of iron and cold from his armor, the smell of someone who had already decided on war.

"Didn’t you," Demian said quietly, "tell me from the very beginning that you were going to die?"

Ivanka froze.

"You asked me to marry you," he continued, his voice low and sharp, "because your time was running out. Because you had nothing left to wait for." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

He tilted his head slightly, staring straight at her. "So tell me now—"His voice hardened. "Why are you so afraid of death?"