He Didn’t Kidnap Me. Not Exactly novel Chapter 113

Chapter 113

(Daisy’s POV)

I didn’t breathe.

I actually forgot how to breathe.

The purse stayed open in my hands, the edge of the notebook still visible, and that name-that name, just sat there like it had every right to exist.

Aria Volkov.

My brain didn’t accept it immediately. It didn’t even try to make sense of it at first. It just… hovered.

Volkov.

Why did that sound so familiar?

I frowned slightly, staring harder at the letters like they would rearrange themselves into something less alarming if I looked long enough.

Volkov.

I paused and stared for a moment, and then I stilled as it hit me.

My grip tightened around the purse as I recalled everything at once.

Volkov.

Roman Volkov.

He was DeLuca’s opposing Mafia rival- the same man whose men had held me hostage… and the same man who was conjectured to be my father which is still a dumb hypothesis.

Roman Volkov.

My eyes snapped back to the notebook now.

Aria Volkov.

No.

No, that

I shook my head immediately, like I could physically reject the thought before it fully formed,

“That’s not… that’s not possible,” I muttered under my breath.

But then DeLuca had said something once; the same thing I had been trying hard to forget that I was this man’s wrong daughter.

“Wrong.”

Meaning… there was a “right” one.

My chest did that ache thing once more. I looked at the name again, slower this time, like reading it carefully again would somehow

change what it meant.

Aria Volkov.

I was beginning to sweat now.

“No,” I whispered. “No, that’s crazy.”

It had to be.

Because Aria?

The same Aria that sat across from me and talked about everyone on campus and made jokes about dating people’s boyfriends in

her dreams.

That Aria?

There was no way… and yet the possibility didn’t go away. It just sat there, ugly and persistent.

What if…?

I shut the purse immediately.

No.

I wasn’t doing this.

I wasn’t spiraling into conspiracy theories based on a name.

People could share names.

It happened all the time.

I exhaled slowly and placed the purse aside, pressing my palms briefly against my thighs as if grounding myself would help.

Think.

What do you do?

Tell DeLuca?

My head snapped up slightly at the thought.

No.

Absolutely not.

Not without knowing anything for sure.

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