The night stretched on, endless and consuming, the city outside humming with the quiet rhythm of something Kian had always known—power never truly rested. It pulsed beneath the surface of every deal, every whispered conversation, every calculated move made in back rooms and boardrooms alike. And yet, for the first time in years, Kian wasn't thinking about power. He wasn't thinking about control, wasn't calculating the next war, wasn't searching for the next enemy to dismantle before they had a chance to become a threat. He was standing here, staring at Adrian like he was something Kian had never prepared for, something he had never accounted for, something that had existed outside the carefully constructed reality Kian had built for himself. Adrian wasn't a threat. Adrian wasn't a pawn. Adrian wasn't something to be won or lost in a game Kian had long since mastered.
And that was what made him dangerous.
