{Daisy’s POV}

“Well,” I said, my voice quieter now, “this feels like the part where things either get slightly better or significantly worse.”

DeLuca stepped closer and with that, I grew more conscious of his presence.

The room had felt intimidating before, but now that everyone else had left it felt almost disturbing. The long table stretched across the center of the chamber, the empty chairs pushed back like silent witnesses while the quiet of the room pressed against my ears.

He stopped a few feet away, watching me, not angry and not impatient either.

Just… studying and I admired that because most people lose patience with me.

“You study journalism,” he said now and I blinked.

“Yes.”

“You live on campus.”

“Yes.”

“And you have a roommate.”

“Yes. Can’t afford the room alone.”

“Do you have any other family?”

“Just my mum.” I responded.

The conversation had somehow turned into an interrogation conducted by a man who barely seemed interested in speaking.

I folded my arms.

“Are these warm-up questions,” I asked, “or are you just trying to determine how boring and sad my life choices have been?”

He ignored the comment.

“You were leaving work tonight.”

“Yes.”

“The Ridgewood Drive library.”

“Yes.” I affirmed with a nod, “Well, I’m thrilled that the kidnapping portion of this evening at least came with accurate research.”

He watched me for another moment before speaking again.

“You will remain here.” He announced and for a moment my brain simply refused to process the sentence.

Then I laughed.

It came out sharp.

“Sorry,” I said, lifting a hand. “What?”

“You will remain here.” He repeated and the calmness in his voice made the meaning land harder.

I stared at him.

“No.”

The word came out immediately, firm and flat.

“You saw the men who took you,” he said.

“And?”

“You saw this house.”

“That feels like a solvable problem.”

“You know the route.” He added and something cold moved through my chest.

“You kidnapped me by mistake,” I said slowly, my voice tightening as the reality of what he was saying settled in. “And now you’re telling me I can’t go home?”

“You cannot leave.”

My stomach dropped.

“You don’t get to decide that!”

“I do.” He casually said and the anger hit me so suddenly that it almost surprised me.

“No,” I said, stepping forward. “No, you absolutely do not!” I bawled. His expression didn’t change.

“You think you can just tell someone their life is over because you messed up?” I demanded. “I have a life,” not really, “I have classes. I have people who are expecting me to show up tomorrow.”

Again, not really.

“You have seen too much.”

“That’s not my fault!” I snapped and my voice echoed slightly across the empty room.

“You grabbed me in a parking lot,” I continued, my frustration boiling over now. “You threw me into a van. I woke up in the middle of a kidnapping and somehow I’m the one who has to deal with the consequences?”

“You cannot leave.”

The calm repetition of those words made me want to just hit a wall repeatedly.

“You’re insane!” I told him.

“Perhaps.”

“You can’t just keep people.”

“I can.”

I stared at him.

“You don’t know anything about me,” I said, my voice shaking now with anger and fear. “You don’t know my life, my family, my responsibilities, and you definitely don’t get to decide that I just disappear from all of that!”

His expression didn’t falter and that indifference made everything worse.

It felt like I was shouting into a storm that refused to respond.

“This is abduction,” I said.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No,” he repeated evenly. “This is precaution.”

I let out a breath that felt dangerously close to a laugh.

“Wow,” I said. “That is an incredible rebranding.” I muttered but he turned toward the door now.

“Nico.” He called and I realized someone was standing by the door, casually leaning against the frame.

The door opened completely and he stepped in, pacing slowly towards us.

{DeLuca}

~ Hours Later ~

I closed the office door behind the men and opened the folder they had placed on my desk.

Mistakes rarely appeared alone. They usually revealed something larger hiding beneath the surface.

That has been my belief for the longest time and that was my belief now.

Inside the folder was a single sheet containing further background findings.

Daisy Bennett..

Age: twenty-one..

College student..

No criminal history and no connections to any organization worth mentioning..

At first glance she was exactly what she appeared to be; a mistake.

The target had been the Viper’s daughter and Daisy Bennett was not that woman.

But as I continued reading, one detail made me stop.

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