Chapter 20 —Demyon
I was in my study that afternoon, reviewing a pending project from a few months ago. The plan was to bury myself in work because it was the only way I knew to get my mind off Eva Harlow.
My cousin believed that I had fallen for her, and I had taken it upon myself to prove him wrong. Love was a really strong word, and because there was an atom of truth in his claims, I decided it was best to stay away from her. For now, at least.
The last thing I needed was a love drama in my life. I enjoyed having her around, yes. But she was only here for my entertainment. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I kept trying to convince myself that Eva didn’t mean as much to me as Adrik thought. However, the more I stayed away from her, the more my heart ached. This was proof that she was more than an object of my entertainment.
If Adrik was completely wrong, why was I unsettled by his claims? Why was I trying so hard to keep the girl at arm’s length just to prove a point?
I knew the truth deep down in my heart, but I wasn’t ready to accept it. How could I? Love was for the weak, and in my line of work, weakness always got us killed.
For almost two weeks now, I’d been at war with myself. A part of me wanted to keep avoiding her, at least until whatever feelings I’d developed vanished into thin air. The other part of me, however, couldn’t keep up the act; it missed being around her and engaging in silly arguments.
In my study that afternoon, the more I tried to focus, the more thoughts of her flooded my mind. I leaned back in my chair, fingers rubbing my eyes as I recalled the look on her face two nights ago. I could tell that she wanted to talk more after I gave her a glimpse of my childhood.
The pain in her eyes was as clear as crystal, and the way her lips quivered as I told my story thawed something frozen inside me. Eva felt my agony, and if I had waited a minute longer, she might have reached out to try to convince me that I wasn’t the monster everyone thought I was.
The tears welling in her eyes told me she might’ve turned the whole situation into something emotional. I didn’t want that. I wasn’t ready for it. That’s why I got up and left immediately.
Now, I couldn’t help imagining how that night would’ve turned out if I hadn’t abandoned her the way that I did. Would she have hugged me? Would she have kissed me?
What exactly was she up to, anyway? One minute she was avoiding me, and the next she was offering me a shoulder to cry on. The girl was a mystery, a puzzle I had yet to solve. Just like me, she was unpredictable—and that was one of the many reasons I was drawn to her.
Despite my uncertainties and insecurities, I knew one thing for sure: I wasn’t going to lose her. Once I had my shit all figured out, I’d know what to do with her.
I was still deep in thought when my door slammed open and she barged in. Her bare feet pounded the floor as she approached my desk, her expression dark and unreadable.
“We need to talk,” she blurted out, halting before my table.
Never in the history of any relationship had that sentence led to anything good.
My heart skipped a beat as a strange kind of fear crept into my mind. “About what?”
“About what you plan to do with me,” she answered, arms crossed over her chest. “The way I see it, you have two options. You can either kill me or let me go because I’m tired of wasting my life away in these walls.”
My brows drew together as the idea of watching her walk away fueled my rage.
“You have to pick one, Demyon,” she continued. “I can’t keep living like this. I want my life back!” Her voice rose in the last sentence, her tone dripping with desperation.
I locked my jaw, trying to control the rage swelling within me. “It’s not safe out there.”
She let out a frustrated groan, leaning in with her hands on my table. “You keep saying that, but can’t you see that it’s not safe for me in here either? I’m losing my mind, Demyon!”
Unable to hold it in any longer, I snapped. “Goddammit, Eva!” I slammed a fist on the table, a glass tumbling from the surface and shattering into shards across the floor. “You have air in your lungs, a roof over your head, and food in your belly. What more do you want?!”
“Freedom!” she exclaimed, her voice rising above mine. “I want my freedom, Demyon!”
The pain in her voice did something to me. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I didn’t like the feeling. Especially when I spotted the unshed tears in her eyes.
She continued, “You keep me locked up in here. I don’t go to school, I’m not working, I’m not being productive—I’m just wasting my life away!” The words spilled from her mouth in a frantic rush. “All for what, hmm? For your entertainment?”
My chest heaved with slow breaths, my fingers curling into fists on both hands.
“I’m tired of playing your games, Demyon!” She looked right at me and added, “You can’t control me anymore. I’m done!”
“You’re done only when I say you are!” I rose to my feet, my tone harsh and authoritative.
Her eyes widened in fear, shocked by how I’d reacted. Her bravado faltered as she blinked back tears welling in her eyes.
I walked around the table and stopped in front of her, wearing the meanest expression I could muster. “You forget your place, Eva. You forget who I am and what I’m capable of.” I glared at her, my blood boiling with rage. “Do not test me.”
She stood frozen, her lips trembling as she looked at me as if I were a monster. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and stormed out of my study, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.
“Fuck!” I let out a frustrated groan, raking my fingers through my hair. “Fuck!” My voice was much louder this time, filled with rage.
I didn’t mean to be a dick—I didn’t mean to scare her away. I was just afraid of losing her and hated the fact that she wanted to leave me. In an attempt to wrestle back control, I gripped the edge of my table until my knuckles whitened.
The echo of her words kept clawing at me, reminding me that no matter how hard I tried, her first instinct would always be to run away from me.
That was the price for being a monster misunderstood by everyone.
Later that evening, I called for the one person she was closest to in the house. The chef, Olga. She was the oldest domestic staff member at the mansion, the only one I listened to and respected because she was old enough to be my mother.
The door to my study was open when she arrived. She knocked on the doorframe and stood at the entrance. “You asked to see me?”
“Yes,” I answered. “Please, come in.”
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
“Sit down.” I gestured at the visitor’s chair, my voice low and polite.
She sank into the leather armchair, her eyes pinned on me. “This is about Eva, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice thick with a Russian accent.
I wondered how she knew that, but then again, she wasn’t born yesterday—she must’ve been watching us. Or perhaps Eva had already run to her, crying.
“Did she tell you anything?” I asked. “Did she complain about something to you?”
“Why? Did you do something to her?” Her expression was blank, hinting that she already knew what was happening and was displeased by it.
“We…disagreed on something,” I answered.
“You disagreed on something? Really?” She raised her brows, a faint frown perched on her face.
I leaned back in my chair, fingers rubbing my eyes. I was uncomfortable with her cold stares. “What do you want me to say, Olga?”
“I want you to take accountability for what you did,” she replied, her voice low but laced with a hint of anger.
“What I did?” A soft scoff of disbelief fell off my lips. “What about what she did? I don’t know what she told you, but she started it.”
She paused for a second, a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, Demyon, you’re a master strategist who’s built a reputation that precedes him. But when it comes to women, you’re as clueless as they come.”
She was right. I was clueless, and that’s why I called for her.
“You can flex your muscles to your enemies and intimidate them with your lack of self-control when you’re angry,” she added, the words spilling smoothly. “But whenever you’re dealing with a woman who’s in a delicate situation like Eva…you never ever snap the way you did.”
Crazy how her voice was low and polite yet her words sliced through my heart like a sharp knife. It suddenly felt like I was being scolded for my bad behavior, and there was nothing I could do about it because she was right.
Olga was able to school me without being disrespectful despite her own anger and disappointment. Why wouldn’t I respect a woman like that?
As I sat there, digesting her words, a phrase she’d said suddenly struck me. “Wait. What did you mean by ‘delicate situation’?” I edged closer, elbows on my desk. “What delicate situation is she in?”
Olga tilted her head slightly to the side. “She didn’t tell you?”
My eyes squinted. “Tell me what?”
Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she murmured under her breath, “Shit.”
I couldn’t help noticing the obvious shift in her countenance—almost like she knew she just messed up.
“Olga, what was she supposed to tell me that she didn’t?” I questioned, my voice laced with a hint of authority.
She met my gaze again and shook her head. “Please, ask her yourself. It’s not my secret to tell.”
My scowl deepened, fingers clenching into fists on both hands. “Olga, I respect you. But do not make me repeat myself,” I growled, revealing a glimpse of the monster within.
She wiped a palm over her face, her hand resting just below her neck as she held my gaze. It was clear that she wouldn’t enjoy spilling the beans, but I left her with no choice.
“I know how much you want to protect her,” she said, her chest heaving slowly. “Well, let’s just say now, you have to make room for one more under your shelter.”
I tilted my head, confused by her explanation, though deep down I had an idea of what she was trying to say.
“Oh, come on, Demyon, must I spell it out for you? She’s pregnant.”
“She’s pregnant!” Her voice echoed in my head over and over again.
I froze in place, my breath ceased, and at that moment, even my heart stopped for a minute. Eva was carrying my child—a little Tarasov was growing in her womb.
At first, everything was blurry, and then the world around me faded into the background. The realization hit me hard; I was going to be a father, and with that came a mix of emotions. Confusion. Fear. Anger.
I had no idea what to do, where to begin, or how to begin, especially because my relationship with Eva was undefined. My fury turned inward: at fate, at myself, and at anyone who’d dare endanger that unborn baby or its mother.
The thought flooded me with terror and possession at the same time. My first instinct was to protect what was mine at all costs. At this point, Eva was going nowhere—not while carrying my child.
This baby had just made her a more valuable target for my enemies. The outside world wasn’t safe for her anymore. Because of that, she would remain behind these walls, whether she liked it or not.
It was for her own good.