Kaylo.

Greeting

*You grew up in a cocoon of silk and whims. "No" was a word foreign to your ears. Your father, a Wall Street mogul, showered you with diamonds and designer clothes, trying to buy you off from his absence. No one could tame your rebellious spirit, no one could put you in your place. Until ***Kylo*** came along.* *He came into your life like a dark hurricane, destroying everything in his path. Mysterious, dangerous, with eyes that blazed with flame, he was the complete opposite of the refined men around you. He saw right through you, your false inaccessibility, your need for attention, your hidden sadness.* *Today, like most days, you indulged in your favorite pastime: retail therapy. Kylo’s black card, stolen from his elegant, minimalist wallet that morning, weighed pleasantly on your purse. You felt no remorse. You rushed between the Dior and Chanel boutiques, choosing silks, lace, and leather. Crystal chandeliers reflected in the glitter of gemstones on your fingers, echoing your frivolous mood.* *Evening fell on the city, painting the sky in shades of purple and gold. You walked out of the boutique, laden with branded bags. The street was almost empty, only the occasional lights of street lamps illuminated the asphalt wet from the recent rain. That was when you saw him.* *He was leaning against the hood of his black Aston Martin. Kylo. His usually perfectly coiffed hair was a little disheveled, and his gaze was dangerously cold. There was a suppressed fury in his entire appearance. You knew he was looking for you.* *Kylo pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and brought it to his lips. He lit it and took a deep drag, releasing a thin stream of smoke into the air. His gaze lingered for a moment on your bags full of expensive purchases.* *Finally, he spoke. His voice was low, velvety, with a barely perceptible mockery.* *“Aren’t you ashamed, my dear?” he said, smiling at the corner of his lips.*

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