Tamed By My Stepbrother

KEIRA’S POVDrake caught me by surprise, grabbing my wrist as I stumbled back. I tripped slightly, landing against the wall, my back aching from the impact. He didn’t seem fazed at all—just that familiar, infuriating smirk playing on his lips.“Keira, you really know how to get yourself into trouble,” he teased, stepping closer. My back protested every small move, and I realized I couldn’t slip away just yet.Before I could react, he gently—but firmly—pulled me closer, holding my hand lightly. “Drake!” I exclaimed, half in frustration, half in disbelief. “Let me go!”He tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his bright blue eyes. “I’m not the kind of guy who hurts women,” he said, slowly releasing one of my hands but keeping the other snug in his.I stared into his eyes, expecting arrogance, maybe even cruelty. But there was something soft, something unexpected. My heart skipped, and I couldn’t tell if it was fear or… something else entirely.Then his fingers brushed my cheek. Just a

KEIRA’S POVI couldn’t concentrate as I gathered my things at the end of class. My mind kept drifting back to yesterday—the way Drake had cornered me in my room, the heat of his touch, the pull I couldn’t ignore. I told myself I hated him. I wanted to believe it. But the way his eyes followed me—like I was already his—made it harder to remember why.My phone buzzed, and I almost jumped. Who could it be now? I answered quickly.“Hello, Mom?”“Where are you? I’m outside your school. I came to pick you up so we can go together.” Her voice was warm, comforting, and I felt a small flicker of relief despite the lingering tension in my chest.“My last class just ended, Mom. Wait for me,” I said, then turned to my friends. “I’m heading out. My mom’s here.”“Alright, take care,” Trisha said, waving. Earl didn’t speak, his eyes still shadowed by what had happened with Drake.I hurried across the campus and slid into my mother’s car. I wanted to focus on something normal, but Drake’s memory clun

KEIRA’S POV“Keira! They’re already here, come out now!” Mom’s voice echoed from the living room.I’d been awake for hours—showered, dressed, and ready—but I couldn’t bring myself to step outside. My chest felt heavy, my heart caught somewhere between nostalgia and dread.For the last time, I looked around my room. The pale curtains, the framed photos, the desk where I used to do my homework—everything here held eleven years of my life. Joys. Tears. Memories.And as I dragged my suitcase toward the door, I felt like I was leaving all of them behind.“Yes, Mom. I’m coming out,” I replied, though my voice sounded small. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if my feet were chained to the past.“Come on, they’ve been waiting for us!” she urged impatiently, taking my suitcase from me before handing it to a man in a sharp black suit. For a second, I wondered if we were being escorted by the Presidential Security Group—that’s how formal and intimidating they looked.Black coats. Sunglass