Taken

Isabella

For the first few seconds, I couldn't hear anything.

Then Asher's lips brushed beside my ear.

"Well," he murmured softly, "hello there—stepsister."

The word scraped against my skin. His smile grazed my earlobe, deliberate. My breath hitched. I clenched my fists, my back still pressed to his chest—too close, far too close. The truth sat wrong in my stomach, heavy and nauseating.

But Leona was the oldest here.

And I knew she wouldn't lie.

"What do you want?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

That was when I realized how close we were—our faces barely inches apart.

I jerked away.

Asher chuckled, amused, straightening his suit as if none of this affected him. "I don't want anything," he said casually, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I'm just here to take my little sister with me. Now that she's all alone." He tilted his head. "Wouldn't want her living sad and miserable by herself. After all—it's my duty as her brother, isn't it?"

My stomach dropped.

There was no way in hell I was going anywhere with a so-called stepbrother I had never seen in my entire life.

"You mean the stepbrother who didn't even show up to his own parents' funeral suddenly cares about my well-being?" I shot back, my voice trembling despite myself. "You're fooling no one."

"She's sharp, Asher," Richard chuckled. "This is going to be fun, isn't it?"

Asher studied me in silence. The space between us was only a few feet, yet it felt like he could read me—every tremor, every fear, every line of resistance written on my body. His beauty was lethal. But what lay beneath it was worse.

I knew it.

"Well," he said slowly, stepping closer, "first of all—we only share the same father. I never gave a shit about your mother." A smirk curved his lips. "Didn't care much for our father either. Both were despicable human beings."

He stopped in front of me.

"But it turns out," he continued quietly, "I have to give a shit about you—not for good reasons, nonetheless, works for me."

My chest tightened.

"And for the next year—you belong to me. I'm your legal guardian."

He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out an envelope, holding it out to me.

"So here," he said. "Read it."

My hands shook as I took it. Our fingers brushed—my body flinched. I opened the envelope, and whatever hope I had left drowned instantly.

Until I turned twenty-one—he had custody.

My grandparents. Both sides.

They'd signed me away.

To him.

"No..." The word slipped out as a whisper. A tear slid down my cheek. "This—this can't be happening."

Did no one in this world give a shit about me?

"Well," Asher murmured calmly, "it is. And you can't change it."

"I'm not coming with you," I said suddenly.

Before anyone could react, I tore the paper into pieces.

His eyes followed every rip—but he didn't stop me.

Then I threw the shreds straight into his face.

Leona gasped.

"Shit," Richard muttered.

Asher froze.

His eyes closed for a brief moment. His jaw clenched.

"A piece of paper doesn't get to decide my life," I snapped, my chest heaving, tears burning my eyes. "I'm done letting people control me. You don't get to show up here and drag me away. I don't care if you're my stepbrother—you don't own me. So before I call the cops—get the fuck out."

Asher opened his eyes.

The blue was gone.

What stared back at me was something darker. Bottomless.

The next second, my back slammed against the wall.

His hand closed around my throat, stealing my breath, his body crushing mine. I gasped, panic exploding in my chest.

"Big mistake, Bella," he growled.

Veins stood out on his neck, his forehead—rage written into every line of him.

"Asher, please—don't hurt her!" Leona cried, trying to rush forward.

Richard stopped her easily. "Relax, Granny. He's not killing her."

"You think tearing that paper changes anything?" Asher laughed, manic. "You're mine—with papers or without." His grip tightened just enough to make my vision blur. Then his other hand lifted, wiping a tear from my cheek. "And guess what?"

He leaned closer.

"Your life in hell starts today."

"Asher, please," Leona sobbed. "Don't do this, dear."

"Oh, Leona," he said lazily, not even looking at her. "I had no one. At least she'll have someone now, right?"

He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked my tear from them.

"Sweet," he mused. "Weird, isn't it?"

I was too trapped in his gaze to notice his other hand reaching into his pocket. Too lost in the venom of his words, in the hatred burning through him.

I knew it then.

This man hated me.

From his core.

"I guess revenge really does taste sweet," he murmured.

Something pressed over my nose.

Fuck.

Chloroform.

I struggled weakly, but he didn't budge. Instead, he leaned close to my ear.

"Sleep, little one," he whispered, his breath warm and heavy. "You're about to go on a very long journey."

My vision blurred—this time not just from tears.

And then—

Darkness.

A darkness that was about to swallow my entire life.

Because Asher Grayson—my stepbrother—wasn't here to play fair.

This was a game of revenge.

A game of hate.

And I was the girl who had never even stepped onto the playground—

locked away by the first monster I ever knew.

My father.