Chapter 1793:
Linking her arm companionably with Kenia’s, Margie said with enthusiasm, “Kenia, I’m going to take you for these invigorating walks every single day from this point forward. Getting out into the fresh air more frequently will work wonders for both your physical health and your emotional well-being.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Kenia responded, her face brightening with a sincere smile.
“Isn’t this afternoon breeze particularly refreshing?” Margie remarked, tilting her face toward the gentle wind.
“Yes, it feels absolutely delightful against the skin,” Kenia replied, nodding with contentment.
Midway through their peaceful stroll, Margie furrowed her brow in growing concern. She moved closer to Kenia and whispered, “Kenia, do you know the security guard who seems to be following us?”
Margie’s words struck Kenia like a cold wind, and she spun around to see the approaching figure. A towering, lean man draped in a security uniform advanced toward them with deliberate steps. His cap cast shadows across his features, concealing his identity. Each step carried an unsettling rhythm, his body swaying in an unnatural dance that suggested intoxication.
The sight of this peculiar security guard sent ripples of apprehension through Kenia’s chest. She drew closer to Margie, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. “Something’s wrong with that guard. We need to leave quickly.”
“Understood,” Margie replied with a sharp nod, her legs already carrying her forward at an accelerated pace. Yet as their footsteps quickened against the pavement, the footsteps behind them grew closer.
Margie’s head whipped around in a desperate glance, and her blood ran cold—the security guard had closed the distance to less than five meters! Without warning, he raised his head, exposing a face ravaged by exhaustion and desperation. His eyes had sunk deep into hollow sockets, while crimson veins traced angry patterns across the whites.
“Please, hold on just a moment,” he called out, his voice gravelly and laced with an unsettling urgency.
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Acting on pure instinct, Margie positioned herself protectively in front of Kenia, her eyes locked on the man. “What do you want?”
The man’s hand shot to his waist, producing a fruit knife. “Your wallets and jewelry—surrender them immediately!”
Color drained from Margie’s face in an instant. Kenia’s sharp intake of breath echoed in the tense silence, but her composure returned with remarkable swiftness. Life had taught her to navigate treacherous waters, and while this crisis had erupted without warning, it lacked the power to make her panic.
“Margie, retrieve my wallet for him,” she instructed in a measured tone, her fingers working with deliberate care to remove the bracelet that adorned her wrist. The piece was a treasured gift from Belinda.
Margie’s hands betrayed her fear with subtle tremors, yet she forced herself to reach into her bag and extract the wallet that contained several thousand dollars in cash alongside multiple bank cards. She extended both the wallet and bracelet toward the man, her gaze never wavering from the gleaming blade.
