He Didn’t Kidnap Me. Not Exactly novel Chapter 124

Chapter 124

(Daisy’s POV)

The footsteps kept getting closer.

Steady.

Unhurried.

And somehow that was worse.

Nobody around me moved unnecessarily anymore. The men stood straighter now, quieter too, like the air itself had suddenly become something they needed permission to breathe.

Then he appeared. And I instantly understood why DeLuca felt dangerous.

Because this man felt worse.

Much worse. I swallowed.

The first thing that hit me wasn’t even his face. It was his presence.

That terrifying calmness.

The kind that didn’t need shouting or threats because it already expected obedience before speaking.

He stepped fully into the underground garage and every single man around me lowered their heads slightly.

Even Fritzo.

I panicked even more at that.

The man walked toward us slowly now, dressed in an immaculate black suit beneath a dark overcoat lined with fur around the collar. Everything about him looked expensive in the kind of way that made normal rich people seem unemployed.

His gloves were dark. His shoes polished. His silver watch gleamed beneath the dim lighting.

Perfect.

Too perfect.

And then my eyes reached his face.

And my stomach tightened instantly.

Because DeLuca was there.

Not fully. But in tangible traces.

The eyes. The sharpness. The terrifying stillness in his expression.

Except where DeLuca’s coldness sometimes cracked around the edges, this man’s didn’t.

This looked refined by years.

Sharpened into something colder. Something absolute.

His gaze finally landed on me after slowly roaming around. I flinched immediately and looked away.

Yep.

Terrifying.

Actually terrifying.

And somehow this was the worst possible way to meet your roommate’s father.

Though honestly, I had never imagined meeting DeLuca’s father at all. I had mentally categorized him under things I should avoid for survival purposes.

Right beside wild bears and tax fraud.

“You are Daisy,” he said now and his voice was deep and calm. Not loud.

Which somehow made it scarier.

“Well,” I started nervously, “not really if you think about it because technically there are many things called Daisy. Flowers. Human beings. Probably stores somewhere-”

“Are you the Daisy currently living with my son?”

The question cut through me instantly.

Straight. Sharp. Audible.

I swallowed.

“… Yes, sir.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify