Chapter 22: The Only Name That Matters
Kian's private home was bathed in a quiet, almost reverential silence. The kind of stillness that spoke volumes about the space he had created for himself—minimalist, sleek, refined. It wasn't the kind of place that felt cold; instead, it had a warmth to it, like the calm before a storm. And tonight, it wasn't calm.
Eva was here. And the air hummed with the intensity of her presence.
He watched her as she moved through the kitchen, the soft click of her steps on the polished floors echoing through the space. She was barefoot, the hem of his oversized black shirt brushing against her thighs with each movement, the fabric swallowing her lithe figure. It was a stark contrast to her presence—powerful, dangerous, undeniably hers.
Her gaze drifted across the contents of the kitchen, scanning the shelves with a critical eye before she stopped, pulling out a vacuum-sealed meal with distaste. She held it up between two fingers as if it were an insult to her senses.
"You eat this?" she asked, her tone almost clinical, as if testing him.
Kian's lips quirked upward, but he didn't respond right away. He wasn't offended. He never cared about his food choices; they were just a means to an end. But this was Eva, and there was something about her—something in the way she challenged him, tested him—that made even the simplest of questions feel like a challenge.
"It's quick," he finally said, his voice low but steady.
She dropped the box back into place without another word, her eyes narrowing slightly as she turned toward him. "You're Kian Fenix, right?" she asked, her voice cool, almost dismissive. "The genius who built a quantum AI at fifteen? The one who could rewrite the entire corporate world with a glance and has the media eating out of your hand—even though you hate them?"
Her words stung, but in a way that only Eva could manage. She didn't mock him; she simply laid bare the truth, and yet Kian found himself drawn into the conversation, unable to look away from her.
But Eva wasn't done. She didn't give him a chance to respond before her words came tumbling out again, each one more cutting than the last.
"Your mother is the second most powerful person alive, in a coma for years. And your father? The sixth most powerful. The world knows who you are, Kian. You're the true heir. Not Dmitri. The only son of your real mother."
Her gaze locked onto his, and Kian felt the weight of her words in the air between them. He didn't need reminding of the truth, but hearing it from Eva made something in him stir—something deeper than the world or his legacy ever could.
But she wasn't finished yet.
"You're better than Dmitri, you know that?" she said, her voice soft, teasing, but with an edge.
The words hit him harder than he'd expected. He hadn't even realized how badly he wanted to hear them until she said them, her voice threading through him like silk-wrapped steel.
Kian's chest tightened, his breath catching for the briefest moment before he spoke. His voice was quieter, almost raw as he responded. "You think so?"
Her lips curved in a subtle smile, something dangerous flashing in her eyes. "I don't say things I don't mean, Kian," she whispered, taking a step closer, the space between them shrinking. "I'm not just saying it to make you feel good. You're better than him, better than anyone."
Kian's pulse quickened at the words, the truth of them digging deep into him. The weight of them felt more important than anything else in the world.
There was something about hearing her say it, something about knowing she thought he was better than his older brother, that made his heart thrum in his chest. It was a strange sensation—like a deep-rooted desire to be seen, to be recognized, not just as the son of powerful figures, but as something else entirely.
All men, Kian realized, liked it when their favorite woman called them better than someone else. It wasn't just about ego. It was about wanting to be the one. The one she chose, the one she valued. The one she thought worthy.
And in this moment, in Eva's eyes, he was that man.
She wasn't just teasing him. She was offering him a truth that mattered—he was better than Dmitri. And in the quiet space of the kitchen, with the low hum of the city outside and the smell of distant rain in the air, Kian knew one thing: he was hers.
Without another word, Eva moved closer. Her body brushed against his, the heat of her pressing against him as she reached up and tugged at the collar of his shirt. Her fingers moved with deliberate slowness, tracing the fabric, until she was mere inches away from him. He could feel her breath against his skin, warm and tantalizing.
"Stop pretending none of it matters," she whispered against his ear. "Because you know it does."
Kian's hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him, not out of desperation, but out of a need to feel her, to have her close. He didn't need to say anything. She already knew.
Eva pulled back slightly, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she looked him over. "Let's get real food. You're going to eat better," she said, the command in her voice soft but unwavering.
With that, she turned, moving toward the hallway, her steps confident, assured. She didn't need to say anything else. She had already taken control, and Kian followed her without a word, unable to resist.
When they reached the spare room, Eva didn't hesitate. She opened the door, stepping inside with the ease of someone who had always belonged there. Kian paused in the doorway, watching her claim the space with a look that was equal parts fierce and content.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "This will be my room," she said, her tone firm. "I don't need to ask."
Kian couldn't help the quiet smile that tugged at his lips. He didn't question her. He didn't need to. There was no part of him that wanted to resist.
Eva turned back toward the bed, already making herself comfortable, as if she had always been meant to be there. She claimed every inch of the space with a kind of nonchalance that was both terrifying and intoxicating.
"I'm going to shower," Kian said, his voice low and gravelly as he stepped back toward the bathroom.
Eva gave him a fleeting glance, her lips curling in a subtle, approving smile. "Take your time," she said, her voice soft with a certain edge. "You'll need it."
The shower was hot, the water pouring over him like a cleansing ritual. He stood under the stream, letting the heat work out the tension in his muscles, but it didn't quiet his thoughts. Eva's words echoed in his mind—better than Dmitri.
It wasn't just a compliment. It was a truth, something that made him feel like he mattered in a way he hadn't before.
When he finally stepped out of the shower, steam billowing around him, Eva was waiting in the bedroom. She leaned against the doorframe, her eyes watching him like a predator sizing up its prey.
"You've taken over the room already," he commented dryly, a hint of humor in his voice.
"I'm not just taking the room," she said, her tone low and deliberate. "I'm taking you."
And just like that, everything else faded. Nothing mattered but her. Nothing at all.