All Chapters of Taken by my stepfathers: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Eden’s POVThe car ride back to the estate was a blur of high-speed turns and the frantic, clipped jargon of Marcus speaking into his radio. I was sandwiched between two men who felt like statues of granite, their eyes never leaving the windows. They didn't look at me. They looked through me, searching for a threat I couldn't see.When we pulled through the gates, the security detail was doubled. Men in tactical gear stood every twenty feet, their rifles held at low ready. The "home" I had finally begun to feel safe in had transformed into a military compound in the span of thirty minutes.Marcus didn't wait for the car to fully stop. He opened my door and gripped my arm, his fingers digging into my skin with an urgency that bordered on painful."Inside. Now, do not stop for anything."He marched me through the foyer. The house was silent, but it was the silence of a predator holding its breath. We didn't go to the conservatory or the library. We went straight to the North Wing—to Dan

Eden’s POVThe library was silent, save for the scritch-scratch of my pen against the paper. I kept my eyes focused on the text, economic theories, and supply chain management, but the words were just ink on a page. My mind was back in the Botanical Gardens, replaying the way Silas had flipped that coin into the water.I felt him before I heard him.The air in the room always seemed to displace when Daniel entered, becoming denser and charged with his presence. I didn't look up immediately. I finished the sentence I was writing, my hand steady, my breathing deep and even. I had to be a perfect reflection of the girl he’d left here two hours ago."You’ve been on that same chapter for twenty minutes, Eden."Daniel’s voice was like a low-frequency hum, vibrating through the back of my chair. I finally looked up, offering him a calm, tired smile. He was leaning against the mahogany doorframe, his suit jacket off, his tie pulled loose. He looked weary, but his eyes, those analytical eyes,

Eden’s POVFor three days, Daniel hadn't left the estate. He didn't go to the office or attend his briefings. He sat in his study like a spider in the center of a web, his eyes never leaving the monitors that tracked every pulse, every footstep, and every breath I took.He was hunting a ghost he couldn't see, and it was driving him to the brink of madness. I had never seen him like this. Why was he so scared of Silas? What was their history?When I woke up, I woke up with the intention of meeting Silas again. The laundry van was scheduled for its weekly pickup at 10:00 AM. But as I sat at my vanity, brushing my hair, I saw Daniel’s reflection in the mirror. He was standing in the doorway, his shirt unbuttoned, a glass of scotch in his hand despite the early hour."You're staying in today," he said. It wasn't a suggestion. It was a decree."I was planning on going to the library, Daniel. I have a midterm paper due.""The library is being renovated," he lied, his eyes tracking the movem

Eden’s POVThe convoy was moving fast, but not recklessly. That was the thing about the men assigned to me; they didn’t drive like bodyguards in movies, swerving through traffic and making a spectacle of danger. They drove like men who expected danger at any time and had trained themselves to make room for it without panicking. The SUV I was in stayed in the middle of the formation, with one vehicle ahead and one behind, each maintaining just enough distance to react but not enough to leave a gap.I sat in the back seat with my bag beside me, one hand resting on the strap, my mind drifting between exhaustion and irritation. I hated riding like this. I hated knowing there were always eyes on me, guns near me, men pretending I was just another protected passenger when everybody in the car knew I was the reason they were here. The man in the front passenger seat kept murmuring into his earpiece, short updates in a clipped voice, while the driver stayed focused on the road, both hands on

Daniel’s POVThe smell of iron and cordite was still clinging to my skin as I stormed through the heavy industrial doors of Silas’s warehouse. Marcus’s voice was still ringing in my head, a ragged, shamed rasp over the comms telling me the convoy was gone, the guards were dead, and Eden was missing. Every step I took across the oil-stained concrete felt like stepping through a minefield of my own failures. I had spent years meticulously drafting a life of absolute security, a fortress of steel and digital encryption, only to have it dismantled in a matter of seconds by a truck and a handful of shadows.I didn't wait for his men to stop me. They saw the look in my eyes, the look of a man who had already decided how many lives he was willing to trade to get back what was his. I moved through them like a reaper, my vision tunneled into a singular point of white-hot rage. My fingers twitched near the holster at my hip. Every instinct I had, every calculated part of my brain that had built