Chapter 21: Ashes Beneath the Collar
The morning air clung to the marble pillars of the Fenix estate, cool and unsparing. A hush settled over the house, save for the muffled sound of polished shoes striking the floor.
Kian stood in the foyer, the embodiment of cold elegance. His black high-collared shirt clung to his frame like silence to shadow—buttoned to the top, immaculate. No skin showed, not even at the throat. A tailored coat draped over his shoulders like royalty worn as armor. His face, carved in quiet detachment, was flawless and unreadable—his beauty almost unnatural, sculpted and sharp, yet distant enough to bruise. Not a single strand of his jet-black hair was out of place, slicked back with the kind of precision that spoke of control, obsession, and disinterest all at once.
He didn't smoke. He didn't drink. He didn't entertain women, no matter how desperately they clawed for his attention. Kian Vasiliev was a fortress, untouchable.
And yet, beneath that icy exterior, something burned. Hidden in the inner lining of his world was a name. Eva.
His thumb brushed across the screen of his phone where the message thread glowed faintly. He knew the moment Seraphine had told him to call her that. Whispered between kisses, lips bruised from hunger, teeth marking territory. "Call me Eva," she had murmured, breathless against his jaw, as he cupped her face and held her like a secret he was never meant to keep.
But now… now she was nothing to anyone else. Not even a whisper. And he would make sure it stayed that way.
The heavy footfalls behind him were deliberate. Dmitri.
Older by three years, yet somehow always in his shadow. His name might have been tied to the inheritance, but his scandal-riddled reputation was known even beyond the city walls. Nights of indulgence, drunken tirades, women he couldn't even remember the names of—he was everything their father despised. Yet their father still hadn't stripped him of the title. Not yet.
Their father's voice cut through the air like cold steel. "Dmitri, you'll go with Kian. Watch how he moves. Maybe you'll learn something before you embarrass us again."
Dmitri's jaw tensed, but he said nothing, turning instead to his younger half-brother. His lips curled into a mocking smile. "What am I meant to learn, how to breathe without blinking?"
Kian didn't spare him a glance.
Outside, the car waited. Dmitri climbed in first, still fuming from the humiliation, slouched in the leather seat like he owned it. Kian followed, silent, and closed the door behind him.
As the car pulled away from the estate, Kian's phone buzzed in his palm.
Eva: Did you forget the taste of fire, Kian?
His breath hitched, lashes lowering, betraying the smallest flicker of emotion.
Dmitri leaned slightly, eyes catching the glow of the message. "Eva?" he drawled, suspicion crawling into his tone. "Who's—"
But Kian shifted, a smooth and practiced motion, turning the screen away. The message vanished behind the shield of his hand, and the curve of his lip tightened in silence.
Dmitri stared for a second longer, but Kian didn't react.
Then, as though answering a command that had never been spoken, Kian typed with elegant precision:
Kian: No. I remember. Your name still burns on my tongue.