He Didn’t Kidnap Me. Not Exactly novel Chapter 211

Chapter 211

(Daisy’s POV)

For several long seconds, I simply stared.

My eyes remained fixed on the pistol resting comfortably in Aria’s hand while every thought inside my head seemed to collide with every other thought until none of them made sense anymore. My heart had started beating so hard that I could actually hear it, yet somehow that still wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sentence she had just spoken.

I’d like your unconscious body.

No.

I must have heard her wrong.

There had to be another explanation.

My mind desperately reached for one, but every possibility crashed into the same impossible reality.

The gun.

It wasn’t a picture.

It wasn’t a toy.

It wasn’t something my imagination had invented.

Aria was holding a real pistol.

Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet, scarcely noticing the ache that immediately pulled across my healing abdomen. My entire body had gone stiff, and I found myself taking an unconscious step backward as though instinct already understood what my mind refused to accept.

“What…?”

The word barely made it past my lips.

I swallowed hard before trying again.

“What the hell is that, Aria?”

She looked down at the pistol almost thoughtfully, as though I had asked about an ordinary household object rather than the weapon currently pointed somewhere in my general direction. Then her gaze returned to me, and the same pleasant smile she had worn since arriving spread gently across her face.

“The gun?”

She tilted her head.

“Is that what you’re asking about?”

“What are you doing with a gun?” My voice came out much louder than I intended. “How do you even have a gun?”

Aria laughed.

Not loudly.

Not mockingly.

Just a quiet, amused laugh that somehow unsettled me more than shouting ever could.

“You didn’t really hear me the first time, did you?”

I stared at her.

“I understand,” she continued almost sympathetically. “Shock has a funny way of doing that. Your brain starts rejecting whatever it

doesn’t want to believe.”

She took one slow step toward me.

“I also don’t have much time today.”

Her smile slowly disappeared.

Not dramatically.

Simply…

gone.

When she spoke again, every word was calm.

Measured.

“I want your unconscious body.”

The apartment fell silent.

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