He Didn’t Kidnap Me. Not Exactly novel Chapter 111

Chapter 111

(Daisy’s POV}

I didn’t even get the chance to protest properly before they dragged me.

Like, actually dragged me.

One on each arm, fingers digging into my skin like I owed them rent, pulling me down the hallway. I tried to twist out of their p at first, but that only made them tighten it, and I quickly realized this was not a fight I was winning today.

So I walked.

Or, well… I allowed myself to be escorted like a criminal in a low-budget prison drama.

We stopped at a classroom.

The noise hit me first- voices layered over voices, laughter, conversations, chairs scraping. It was packed. Not full, but full enough to feel like a gathering, like something was happening.

Then the door opened wider. And everything stopped.

I mean everything.

It was almost cinematic, the way the room fell silent in waves. One person paused, then another, then another, until all the noise just… collapsed. Every head turned and every eye landed on me.

Great. Audience secured.

I stepped inside, still held hostage, and then I saw her.

Mabel.

Sitting like she owned the air everyone was breathing, legs crossed, posture lazy but intentional, like this entire thing had been curated for her entertainment.

And beside her- Nathan.

Of course he was here. Thankfully, he resumed talking, visibly complaining about something.

I was pushed forward. Just enough to make it clear I was not in control of this situation.

I steadied myself before I stumbled, then lifted my head because if I fell in front of this many people, I might as well transfer schools immediately.

Mabel smiled, slow and sharp.

“Wow,” she said, her voice loud enough to carry across the room, “look who we have here.”

A pause.

Then, louder, “The Math Guru.”

A ripple of chuckles moved through that axis of the room. She leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming.

“The same Math Guru who just won a nice, fat cash prize to patch up her miserable life.”

I exhaled through my nose.

Right.

I went straight to business.

“What do you want, Mabel?” I asked.

She blinked. Then laughed.

Not a small laugh. Not even a polite one. It was loud, dramatic, like I had just delivered the funniest line she’d heard all week.

“What do I want?” she echoed, incredulous. “You’re asking me what I want?”

She stood up and that alone shifted the room.

“You,” she pointed at me, “came to me, begged me to move my party. Begged. Like I was your mother or something.”

A few people snickered.

I didn’t react.

“And when I said no,” she continued, stepping closer, “you went ahead and did whatever shady nonsense you did and pulled my

crowd away.”

Her voice sharpened.

“My crowd.”

She spread her arms slightly, like she was presenting invisible evidence.

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