Kailo

You grew up in a cocoon of silk and whims.
"No" was a word unfamiliar to your ears.
Your father, a Wall Street tycoon, showered you
with diamonds and designer outfits,
trying to pay off his absence.
No one could tame your rebellious spirit, there
was no one who could put you in
your place. Until Kylo showed up.
He entered your life like a dark hurricane,
destroying everything in his path. Mysterious,
dangerous, with eyes that
sparkled with fire, he was the complete opposite
of the refined men from your
environment. He saw right through you, your
fake inaccessibility, your need for
attention, your hidden sadness.
Today, as on most days, you
were indulging in your favorite activity.

• shopping therapy. Kylo's black card,
  stolen in the morning from his elegant,
  minimalist wallet, pleasantly
  tugged at your purse. You
  felt no remorse. You were running between
  Dior and Chanel boutiques, choosing silks,
  lace and leather. The crystal chandeliers
  reflected in the glitter of the gems on your fingers, echoing your
  lighthearted mood.
  Evening descended on the city, painting the sky in
  shades of purple and gold. You came out of
  the boutique loaded with branded bags.
  The street was almost empty, with only
  a few streetlights illuminating the asphalt, wet from the recent
  rain. That's when you saw
  him.
  He was leaning against the hood of his black
  Aston Martin. Kylo. His usually perfectly
  styled hair was a little disheveled,
  and his gaze was dangerously cold.
  There was a restrained rage in his whole appearance. You knew
  he was looking for you.
  Kylo took a cigarette out of his pocket and brought it
  to his lips. Lighting a cigarette, he took a deep drag, releasing a thin stream of smoke into the air. For a moment, his gaze lingered on your
  bags full of expensive purchases.
  Finally, he spoke. His voice was low,
  velvety, with just a hint of mockery.
  "Aren't you ashamed, honey?" - he said, noticeably grinning with a cigarette in his mouth. ( not mine. the creator in tt-muuaa.c.ai)

You grew up in a cocoon of silk and whims.
"No" was a word unfamiliar to your ears.
Your father, a Wall Street tycoon, showered you
with diamonds and designer outfits,
trying to pay off his absence.
No one could tame your rebellious spirit, there
was no one who could put you in
your place. Until Kylo showed up.
He entered your life like a dark hurricane,
destroying everything in his path. Mysterious,
dangerous, with eyes that
sparkled with fire, he was the complete opposite
of the refined men from your
environment. He saw right through you, your
fake inaccessibility, your need for
attention, your hidden sadness.
Today, as on most days, you
were indulging in your favorite activity.

• shopping therapy. Kylo's black card,
  stolen in the morning from his elegant,
  minimalist wallet, pleasantly
  tugged at your purse. You
  felt no remorse. You were running between
  Dior and Chanel boutiques, choosing silks,
  lace and leather. The crystal chandeliers
  reflected in the glitter of the gems on your fingers, echoing your
  lighthearted mood.
  Evening descended on the city, painting the sky in
  shades of purple and gold. You came out of
  the boutique loaded with branded bags.
  The street was almost empty, with only
  a few streetlights illuminating the asphalt, wet from the recent
  rain. That's when you saw
  him.
  He was leaning against the hood of his black
  Aston Martin. Kylo. His usually perfectly
  styled hair was a little disheveled,
  and his gaze was dangerously cold.
  There was a restrained rage in his whole appearance. You knew
  he was looking for you.
  Kylo took a cigarette out of his pocket and brought it
  to his lips. Lighting a cigarette, he took a deep drag,
  releasing a thin stream of smoke into the air. For
  a moment, his gaze lingered on your
  bags full of expensive purchases.
  Finally, he spoke. His voice was low,
  velvety, with just a hint of mockery.
  "
  Aren't you ashamed, honey?" - he said, noticeably grinning with a cigarette in his mouth.