The rain had not stopped when the conversation reached a point of no return.
Inside the study of Morvex Castle, only the crackling of burning wood and the sound of restrained breathing could be heard.
Before Demian, Marquess Kosler remained on his knees. His body trembled not only from fear, but from ambition that had not entirely died.
Demian looked at him without expression.
"Kill your daughter," he said flatly. "And you will have whatever you want from me."
The sentence was so calm as if he were offering a trade contract, not a human life.
The Marquess blinked.
For a brief second, something dark crossed his face. Calculation. Possibility. Loss. Gain.
If Ivanka died…
The scandal could be redirected to her.The Emperor might soften.Demian might withdraw part of the political pressure.
The Kosler family could survive.
That ambition flickered alive.
But only for a fraction of a second.
Then his expression cracked.
"Ivanka…" His voice weakened.
