All Chapters of Tamed By My Stepbrother: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

KEIRA’S POV “Relax, Keira. It’s just me—Katriz.” Her voice broke through my panic like a lifeline. I froze at the door for a second longer, my fingers still clenched around the edge of the curtain, before slowly unlocking it. The woman standing outside wore a black cap pulled low and a mask covering half her face. In the dim hallway light, she looked more like a stranger than someone sent to protect me. But the moment she laughed softly, easing the tension in her shoulders, I felt my chest loosen just a little. “Drake called me,” she continued quickly, lowering her voice as if the walls themselves might be listening. “He said I need to keep you safe while they figure out a way for him to get out. We don’t have much time.” My heart thudded painfully at the sound of his name. Drake. Even now, when he was s

DRAKE’S POV THE MOMENT the maid entered my room again, the air seemed to thicken with tension. She carried the familiar tray of food, but this time, lying neatly beside the steak, was the knife I had deliberately requested earlier. My gaze lingered on it for half a second longer than necessary. This was it. I forced my expression into calm indifference as she placed the tray on the bedside table. My pulse thundered in my ears, but my face remained unreadable. Years of growing up under my father’s watch had taught me how to wear masks. “Is there anything else you need, Young Master?” she asked politely. “No,” I replied curtly. “You may leave.” She bowed and exited the room, closing the door behind her. The sound of the latch clicking into place echoed louder than it should have. 

SABINA’S POV "What the heck!" I exclaimed in frustration at those who chased Drake. "There are so many of you, yet you couldn't even catch up to Drake! You're all useless! You're going after just one person!" I shouted incessantly while throwing whatever objects I could grab at them. "I apologize, Ma'am. The Young Master's run was really fast, so we couldn't catch up," one of them responded to me. "What's going on here, Sabina?" Uncle Edward asked me with a furrowed brow as he put on his robe, clearly just waking up, followed by Catherine. "Drake escaped! And your worthless employees should be blamed for it!" I shouted angrily. His brow furrowed even more due to what I said. "Don't talk to them like that, Sabina!" He reprimanded me sternly, as if he didn't like how I was addressing his stupid employees more than the fact that his child had escaped. He turne

KEIRA’S POV The truth was, I had no idea where Drake and I were headed. Every direction he took, every call he made—it all led us deeper into uncertainty. Yet, despite my fear, I had no choice but to trust him completely. He seemed confident, methodical, and determined, and I reminded myself that I couldn’t afford panic. Not now. "Keira, did you bring your phone?" Drake asked, causing me to look at him. "Yes, why? Do you need it?" I asked in return. "No, but you have to turn it off." I gave him an inquiring look. "They can track you using your phone signal, so for our safety, it's better if you just turn it off." I nodded, took my cellphone from the pocket of the hoodie jacket I was wearing, and turned it off. "Where are we going, Drake? Why are we here?" We were currently by the seaside, waiting for a boat. That's the only thing I know.

KEIRA’S POVThe sun was merciless when Drake and I arrived at the St. Luis Seaport. Heat shimmered over the concrete docks, and the salty air clung to my skin like a warning. Even the sound of waves crashing against the pier felt louder than usual—like the sea itself was announcing our escape.We stepped off the small service boat that had ferried us across and immediately intertwined our fingers, as if letting go would somehow undo everything we had risked to get here.Ahead of us stood rows of yachts—some massive and gleaming like floating mansions, others modest but still elegant. Drake slowed his pace, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. His eyes moved between the note and the vessels lined along the dock.“This is it,” he murmured, stopping in front of a moderately sized yacht that looked expensive but not overly extravagant. It was white with sleek glass windows and polished chrome rails that reflected the sunlight.My heart pounded.This yacht wasn’t just transport