She Is A Game.

“Your adoptive mother is coming to pick you up today.”

The words rang in Kiera Hartley's head as she picked up the last book on her bookshelf—a brown diary with slightly torn edges, probably from being opened so frequently—and tucked it into a safe corner of her backpack.

She picked up the backpack, slung it over her shoulder, and gripped the handle of her travel bag as she walked toward the door. She took one last look around the room.

It looked nothing like the room she had used for eight years. The only things in sight were a comfortably sized bed, a three-foot-tall bookshelf, and a two-door closet. It was completely devoid of any memories of her.

Eight years, and everything she owned could fit into one backpack and a small suitcase.

She should have felt sad. Maybe relieved. Perhaps even excited.

Instead, she felt nothing.

Maybe that was what happened when you spent too long teaching yourself not to care.

She had lived in the orphanage since her parents died when she was twelve. At first, like every other child at the orphanage, she had shared a room with other girls. Eventually, however, she was given a room of her own, which was unusual in an orphanage.

Kiera took one last breath and walked out of the room.

As she moved through the hallway, different children peeked out to look at her, but no one said a word.

Some of them had probably never spoken to her. Others had once tried.

Kiera had always been the one to pull away first.

It was easier that way.

People eventually left, and she had learned not to give them enough of herself for their absence to hurt.

She had no friends and usually kept to herself.

Stepping into the open space of the orphanage compound, she spotted Director Grace talking to a familiar woman.

Her adoptive mother, Victoria Cole.

Kiera's fingers tightened around the handle of her bag.

This was the part she hated most.

Not leaving the orphanage.

Going somewhere she didn't know, with people who had decided they wanted her before she had decided whether she wanted them.

She was the oldest child in the orphanage at twenty-one. She was the kind of girl anyone would have been willing to adopt because of her ethereal beauty, but Kiera had refused every adoption offer.

She had been able to do so because of her sponsor.

But her sponsor had died two months ago, making adoption inevitable if she wanted to continue college.

Victoria noticed her standing at the entrance and waved her over with a bright smile.

“Kiera.”

Kiera walked over and greeted her.

“Morning.”

Victoria, quite enthusiastic, took her hand.

“How was your night?”

Kiera forced a smile.

“Fine.”

Her eyes held no light.

“We should get going now,” Victoria said.

Kiera nodded, even though she didn't want to go.

“Be a good girl, Kiera,” Director Grace called, waving goodbye as Victoria led Kiera toward her pink Bentley.

Victoria opened the trunk, and Kiera placed her luggage inside.

They got into the car, and it sped away from the compound.

Kiera watched the orphanage disappear through the window.

She didn't wave.

She wasn't sure whether she would miss it.

Maybe she had simply become too accustomed to leaving things behind.

They arrived at the Cole house thirty minutes later.

It sat on a quiet, private road in an affluent part of Richmond upon Thames, surrounded by mature trees and large detached homes.

From the outside, the house was striking but not excessively extravagant. Still, anyone could tell at a glance that the people who lived there were influential.

Victoria led Kiera inside, and she couldn't help but look around, taking in the layout and details of the house.

Everything looked untouched by struggle.

Everything looked like it belonged to people who had never had to worry about whether they would have somewhere to sleep the next day.

But as they approached the door, Kiera heard a heated argument coming from inside.

Victoria and Kiera stopped in their tracks.

“I fucking told you I don't want her here,” an angry voice said.

“You don't decide for me. She's coming, she's going to stay here, and you can do nothing about it,” a somewhat calm voice replied.

“I'll move out, then,” the first voice said again.

“No problem. But say goodbye to ever seeing Scarlett again,” the calm voice replied.

“Seriously?” the first voice asked in a rasped tone, clearly too angry to contain himself.

Kiera didn't need any explanation to know that the person they were talking about was her.

She had heard that tone before.

The tone people used when they had already decided she was something they didn't want.

For a brief moment, something old tightened inside her chest.

She quickly pushed it down.

She had survived worse than someone's rejection.

Kiera noticed a hesitant look flash across Victoria's face. She seemed to want to say something, but eventually, she simply squeezed Kiera's palm gently.

Just then, a well-built figure brushed past them. His movements were so fast that Kiera barely caught a glimpse of his face.

She immediately deduced that he must be her adoptive brother, Liam Cole—the one rumored to have a deep-seated hatred for women and who had refused to sign her adoption papers.

He clearly didn't like her, but Kiera didn't care.

It meant one less person she had to force a relationship with.

“Liam isn't the best person, but John and I would love and treat you like our own,” Victoria said.

Kiera paused.

Like our own.

The words were simple, but they struck somewhere she had carefully kept buried.

For eight years, she had learned not to expect anyone to call her theirs.

She forced a smile.

“Thank you.”

Victoria returned the smile, and they walked inside.

Once inside, Victoria went over and hugged the man sitting on the sofa, giving him a kiss on the cheek. He returned the kiss on her lips.

“Don't do that. The kid is here,” Victoria scolded, but her cheeks flushed red.

“She is an adult,” John Cole said calmly.

Kiera recognized him as her adoptive father and the owner of Cole Construction, one of the leading construction companies in London.

He turned to Kiera with a smile.

“Welcome to the Cole household, Kiera.”

“It's my pleasure to be here,” Kiera muttered.

“Doesn't seem like it,” John joked before quickly changing the topic. “So, here we have rules that we abide by. In the—”

John was cut off when Victoria hit him on the arm.

“Gosh, John. Don't start. It's just her first day here, and you're already talking about rules.”

“Sorry, Your Majesty,” John surrendered with an apology he probably didn't mean.

Victoria stood up and took Kiera's arm.

“Let me show you around the house.”

The first place she showed Kiera was her room, which was quite to Kiera's taste.

The room was painted ash gray, with a queen-sized bed in the middle. It was simple, cozy, and luxurious. It came with a walk-in closet, and inside were limited-edition dresses, highly sought-after shoes and bags, and expensive accessories.

It looked like a luxurious boutique.

Kiera stood in the doorway for a moment.

There was more in this room than she had owned in her entire eight years at the orphanage.

It should have made her happy.

Instead, she wondered how long it would take before someone decided she didn't deserve it.

She pushed the thought away.

They continued through several other places in the house, including the basement, which seemed like a private party room; the kitchen; the dining area; and the terrace, which offered a view of the backyard, the heart-shaped pool, and the surrounding greenery.

The last place they visited was the underground garage.

And that was another display of wealth.

The car collection was insane.

As Kiera observed her surroundings, her eyes fell on a sleek motorcycle parked to one side.

She couldn't help but walk over to it.

Her hand gently grazed the handlebar.

It felt expensive.

Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming presence behind her.

A figure loomed over her.

Kiera looked up and met a pair of piercing gray eyes.

Their eyes locked.

Before she could come up with anything to say, he spoke.

“Dad said I would like you, but I already couldn't stand you the moment we met. Isn't that ironic?” Liam said, his face devoid of warmth.

“Mutual feelings, then. I guess it's better if we stay out of each other's way,” Kiera replied.

“Deal,” Liam muttered before turning away and climbing onto the motorcycle.

Kiera peeled her hand away from the handlebar.

Liam pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the spot where her palm had rested.

He started the motorcycle and put on his helmet. Then he glanced at her one last time.

“While you stay out of my way, remember to stay away from my things, Orphan.”

The motorcycle roared to life and disappeared from the garage.

Kiera watched the bike disappear, leaving behind a faint trail of exhaust.

Her palm folded into a tight fist.

Kiera already knew Liam probably didn't like her, but she hadn't expected him to be such a jerk.

Calling her an orphan?

“Asshole,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

Just then, Victoria returned and hooked her arm through Kiera's.

“Let's continue with our tour.”

With that, she dragged Kiera out of the underground garage, failing to notice the quiet rage in her eyes.