Chapter 5 Kyle my boyfriend

His eyes held a glint of uncertainty, a characteristic I could easily discern from the slate-gray shade of his irises. Typically, he was an open book, never concealing anything from me. I was intimately familiar with my boyfriend, knowing him inside and out, and I had a strong feeling that he would eventually confide whatever was bothering him.

We had meticulously arranged a special dinner date, choosing the backyard of his luxurious beachfront residence as the perfect setting. Kyle was well aware that, given the opportunity, I might have organized a wild club party to celebrate his birthday. Nevertheless, he had suggested a quiet evening at his house.

Kyle's home epitomized luxury, resembling the residences showcased in glossy advertisements and magazines. Its standout feature was its prime location, nestled right by the beach.

Kyle came from a wealthy family; his father was an international business magnate, and, following in his father's footsteps, Kyle had developed into a young man of substantial means. Although I had limited knowledge about his family, I had a deep understanding of Kyle himself. Over time, he had revealed many aspects of his personality to me.

The backyard was bathed in the soft glow of outdoor lighting, and the delicate candlelight on the table and its surroundings created an ambiance of romance. I couldn't help but admire the thought and care he had put into making the evening special, even though something appeared to be troubling him. He carried an air of unease, a departure from his usual cheerful demeanor that I had grown accustomed to.

I took a sip of the red wine, gently dabbed my mouth with the napkin, and resolved to dispel the quiet that enveloped us. Recognizing that it was our inaugural night together, and he might be feeling a bit anxious, I wanted to convey my readiness.

"The food is absolutely exquisite," I remarked. His personal chef had crafted a delectable dish of Gnocchi for our meal and a delightful Gelato for dessert. The seasoned chef was truly skilled in the culinary arts.

"Your favorite," he replied with a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Would you like more?" he inquired, and I declined, shaking my head.

Kyle was on the cusp of turning twenty-five. He had successfully completed his college education and, as he had shared with me, had begun working in his father's business. The age difference was not a concern for us; I was nineteen, soon to be twenty. He possessed a level of maturity, affection, and romance that stood in stark contrast to Milo, the materialistic individual who not only damaged my car but also inflicted emotional wounds upon me."

I crossed paths with Kyle at my father's bank. I had gone there to collect my school fee check, and Kyle happened to be in my father's office discussing business matters, as he described it. During that afternoon, my father received an unexpected call and had to leave urgently, leaving me alone with Kyle in his office. Our initial conversation eventually led to us sharing our contact information, and that marked the beginning of our relationship.

"Is that my birthday gift?" Kyle asked, referring to the white shopping bag I was holding. It wasn't his birthday present, but rather the golden dress I had received from someone claiming to be sent by Kyle.

I had never worn that golden dress. Helen had suggested that I wear a different outfit when meeting Kyle, and that I confirm with him whether he recognized the strange man we had encountered at the auto grill a week ago. As I began to explain this to Kyle, his phone rang, interrupting my words. I was on the verge of telling him about the incident, including the fact that the guy seemed to take an unsettling interest in me, but that part would depend on his reaction.

"Excuse me," Kyle said, getting up to answer the call.

As he left the room, I reached into my handbag and retrieved a black box containing Kyle's birthday gift. I had bought him a watch for his birthday, knowing that wealthy people often appreciate such timepieces.

I was in the midst of placing the watch on his side of the table when I suddenly heard heavy footsteps approaching the backyard. Kyle was sprinting toward me, with one of his large bodyguards trailing close behind. Their sudden arrival left me bewildered, and I quickly got to my feet.

"Ky-"

"You need to leave," he interrupted me, snatching my handbag and thrusting it into my hands. "Go, I'll explain everything later."

"No!" I held onto his hand, pulling him back as my confusion mounted. "What's going on?"

"Hey, hey..." he whispered softly, his warm breath against my face as he gently cradled my cheeks. "Trust me, okay?" He placed a tender kiss on my forehead. "Please, go. Go, my love."

"Kyle, no! Kyle!" I struggled to call out for him as he left me behind, and I found myself forcefully pulled in a different direction, leading me towards the beach. My bag had slipped from my grasp, and I continued to wrestle against the man's iron grip. "Let go!" I protested, trying in vain to release his fingers from my arm.

We hadn't gone far when the ominous sounds of gunshots and terrified screams of people reached my ears. I turned my head back toward the house, the origin of the chaos, and a sense of dread swept over me as the gunfire continued.

"Kyle!" I screamed, my voice filled with desperation, as I struggled to break free from the man's grasp. I yearned to run back to Kyle, my heart racing in my chest. However, my efforts were in vain, and I found myself ensnared by two other men.

My vision blurred, making it difficult to discern their features, but their imposing presence sent a shiver down my spine, rendering me immobile. I stood there, paralyzed by fear.

One of the men aimed his weapon at me, and in the blink of an eye, the air was rent with the deafening cacophony of gunshots. I tumbled onto the cold, gritty beach sand, falling to my knees. Instinctively, my hands shot up to cover my ears, shielding them from the horrific noise. I braced for the searing pain of bullets, but instead, I heard the unmistakable sound of a body collapsing heavily beside me.

"Get her!" a commanding voice ordered, and I knew I was the intended target. The strong figure hoisted me to my feet, but I had little energy left, so my response was a sob rather than a struggle.

We were being led back to the house, where a cacophony of overlapping sounds emanated. I might have lost control of my bladder or perhaps felt dead inside, but I remained conscious enough to comprehend the impending doom.

I was ushered toward the kitchen, where distressing noises and agonizing moans echoed from within. It felt like they were preparing to use us for some sinister purpose, maybe even something as horrific as cannibalism.

The man unlocked the door and pushed me inside. I stumbled and fell to the floor, landing next to someone else. As I glanced up, I recognized the person beside me – it was the elderly chef, her mouth tightly sealed with gray tape.