CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Taken
The first thing Kiera noticed was the silence.
It wasn't peaceful—there was nothing gentle about it. It was the kind of silence that pressed against her ears, heavy and wrong, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Her head throbbed.
Pain pulsed behind her eyes as she tried to move—and realized she couldn't.
Her wrists were bound.
Panic surged instantly, sharp and unforgiving.
Kade.
Leo.
Her memories came back in broken fragments.
The morning had started normally. Too normally. She had walked Leo to the car, waved him goodbye as the driver took him to school, then decided to walk the remaining distance to campus instead of calling for security. She'd wanted to feel normal. Independent.
Free.
She remembered the sound of footsteps behind her. A voice calling her name, polite and calm. She'd turned—
And then darkness.
Now, she lay on something cold and hard, the air thick with the smell of concrete and dust. A dim light flickered overhead, casting long shadows across unfamiliar walls.
"Kade," she whispered.
Her voice echoed weakly.
The door creaked open.
Footsteps entered the room—unhurried, confident.
A man stepped into the light. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His face was unfamiliar, but his smile was not kind.
"You're awake," he said casually. "Good. I hate repeating myself."
Kiera's heart slammed against her ribs. "Where am I?"
"Safe," he replied lightly. "As long as you cooperate."
Fear crawled up her spine. "Who are you?"
"Someone who was paid very well to bring you here."
Her stomach dropped. "By who?"
The man chuckled. "Does it matter?"
It did.
She swallowed hard. "What do you want?"
He leaned against the wall, studying her like she was an object. "You're leverage."
The word hit her like a blow.
"Kade Nightwell doesn't strike me as the type to panic," he continued. "But everyone has a weakness."
Her chest tightened. "He won't negotiate."
"Oh, he will," the man said confidently. "Men like him always do."
Across the city, Kade's world shattered.
It started with a missed call.
Then another.
Then the quiet alarm on his phone—an alert triggered only if Kiera failed to check in within a set time window.
His blood went cold.
"Kiera?" he said sharply into voicemail.
No answer.
Within minutes, his security team was in motion. GPS traces. Traffic cameras. Witness interviews.
The last confirmed sighting: three blocks from campus.
Then nothing.
Kade stood in his office, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles burned.
"She didn't take a car," his head of security reported grimly. "No vehicle footage. That means she was taken on foot."
Kade's voice was deadly calm. "Find her."
Phones rang nonstop. Screens filled with data. The room buzzed with controlled urgency.
Then Kade's phone rang again—an unknown number.
He answered immediately.
"Mr. Nightwell," a distorted voice said. "We have something that belongs to you."
Kade closed his eyes briefly.
"If you touch her—"
"She's unharmed," the voice interrupted. "For now."
Rage surged through him, hot and blinding. "What do you want?"
"Twenty-four hours," the voice said. "And your full cooperation."
The call ended.
Kade slammed his phone onto the desk.
"I want every camera within a ten-mile radius," he snapped. "Every associate Vivienne Laurent has ever had investigated. Every enemy I've ever made. Now."
Back in the warehouse, Kiera fought to keep herself steady.
Her mind raced—not with panic alone, but strategy.
She forced herself to breathe slowly.
"You won't get what you want," she said, lifting her chin. "Kade doesn't bend easily."
The man smiled. "You underestimate your value."
She studied him carefully. His posture. His confidence. This wasn't a random crime.
"This isn't about money," she said.
His smile faltered—just slightly.
"So," she continued softly, "this is personal."
Silence stretched.
Then he said, "You talk too much."
Two more men entered the room, one carrying a chair. They set it down in front of her.
"Sit," the first man ordered.
Kiera's pulse thundered, but she didn't resist as they cut her restraints just enough to move her to the chair, then tied her again.
She winced as the rope bit into her skin.
"Listen carefully," the man said. "You're going to record a message."
"No," she said instantly.
He crouched in front of her. "You don't have a choice."
"I won't beg," she said fiercely. "I won't be used to manipulate him."
His expression hardened. "You think this is bravery? This is stupidity."
She met his gaze. "I've survived worse than you."
For a moment, something like respect flickered in his eyes.
Then it vanished.
Hours passed slowly.
Kiera's body ached. Her throat was dry. But her mind stayed sharp—focused on one thing.
Stay alive.
She thought of Leo's laugh. Of Kade's steady presence. Of the life she had only just begun to claim.
I won't disappear, she promised herself. Not like this.
At Nightwell headquarters, Kade paced like a caged animal.
"They want leverage," he said. "Which means they don't want her dead."
"Yet," his security chief said carefully.
Kade's eyes flashed. "They will not harm her."
A new file appeared on the screen.
One name stood out.
A former business rival. Ruined by a merger Kade had orchestrated years ago.
Connected—through shell companies—to Vivienne Laurent.
Kade's breath went still.
"Find Vivienne," he said quietly.
The warehouse door opened again.
This time, the man wasn't smiling.
"Your boyfriend is very motivated," he said. "That's good for you."
Kiera's heart leapt. "You spoke to him?"
"Oh yes," he replied. "And you'll speak to him too."
He raised a phone.
Her hands trembled—but her voice did not.
"Kade," she said the moment the line connected.
His voice came through instantly, raw with fury and fear. "Kiera. Are you hurt?"
"No," she said quickly. "I'm okay."
"I'm getting you out," he said. "I swear."
She closed her eyes briefly. "I know."
The man gestured sharply, cutting the call.
"Rest," he said mockingly. "Tomorrow decides everything."
As he walked out, the door slammed shut, plunging the room back into dim light.
Kiera leaned back in the chair, heart racing—but hope burning fiercely in her chest.
Kade was coming.
And she would survive long enough to see him.
Outside, the city moved on—unaware that beneath its steel and concrete, a reckoning was drawing closer.
And when it came, nothing would remain the same.