He Didn’t Kidnap Me. Not Exactly novel Chapter 207

Chapter 207

(Daisy’s POV)

The sound came again- the quiet rumble of an engine settling outside before fading into silence.

Every muscle in my body had gone stiff.

The slice of bread remained suspended halfway between the plate and my mouth as I stared toward the apartment door without blinking. For a heartbeat, nothing happened, and that somehow made it worse because my imagination immediately filled the silence with possibilities I had no peace entertaining.

Had someone followed DeLuca?

Had Volkov’s men somehow found this place already?

The questions crashed into one another so quickly that my pulse began racing before I could stop it.

A car door closed and my breath caught.

Whoever had arrived was getting out.

Slowly, I set the bread back onto the plate and rose from the couch, every movement careful enough to keep my healing wound from protesting. The apartment suddenly felt much larger than it had a few moments earlier, its comfortable silence transforming into something that seemed to press against my ears.

My eyes darted around the room, instinctively searching for… something.

A weapon.

Something sensible and capable of protecting me if whoever stood outside decided to come through that door.

I saw a tripod stand then. It was old and abandoned at a corner, and seeing it, I instantly reached for it.

Clutching it now with trembling and uncertainty, I hurried toward the corner beside the entrance where the wall gave me just enough cover to stay out of sight. My heart hammered so loudly that I was beginning to worry that whoever stood outside could hear it through

the door.

It just felt like a genuine horror movie to me now, but except that this was not a movie. It was my actual life… on the line.

My heart was thumping roughly now and my free hand instinctively reached toward my pocket before I remembered my phone was still lying on the coffee table. For a brief moment, I considered making a dash for it. I could call DeLuca immediately.

He could end whatever this was. Yes.

I had just begun weighing whether I could reach the phone and get back before anyone forced the door open when a familiar voice drifted through the apartment.

“Daisy?”

Everything inside me froze.

Not from fear this time but recognition.

The voice came again, a little louder.

“Daisy?”

I swallowed.

“…Aria?”

Relief rushed through me so quickly that my knees nearly gave out beneath me. The grip I had on the tripod stand loosened, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

It was Aria. And not some gunman.

She had said she was coming.

I really am becoming disoriented.

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