Beyond the Gates

Chapter 5: Threads of Tension

Porsche's POV

"Join us for breakfast," Chay offered enthusiastically, not picking up on the tension lingering between us. Macau hesitated, but before he could refuse, Chay grabbed his arm.

"Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, you haven't tried P'Porsche's cooking yet." Chay insisted, practically dragging him to the table. Macau tried to decline, but Chay, with his boundless enthusiasm, wouldn't take no for an answer. Macau finally relented, and I caught a flicker of something unreadable in Vegas's eyes before he nodded his agreement. So, we all sat together, the clink of cutlery and Chay's animated chatter filling the otherwise tense silence. I tried to focus on Chay's happiness, but every glance Vegas threw my way brought me back to that night. The memory of his arms around me, the concern in his eyes when he found me drugged and disoriented, gnawed at me.

After breakfast, Chay and Macau excused themselves to get ready for class, leaving me and Vegas alone. The silence between us was thick, filled with unspoken questions. I motioned for Vegas to join me outside. We settled in the gazebo, the morning air is cool and fresh around us.

I leaned against the railing, trying to gather my thoughts. "About last night..." I began, glancing at Vegas. "Kinn found the waiter who drugged you." Vegas said before I could complete my sentence. "He found?" I asked back.

Vegas's expression didn't change, but there was something in his eyes-something that felt like concern, maybe even a hint of warmth. "Yes," he confirmed. "They have him at the major family mansion."

I frowned, confused. "How do you know that? I mean, you're with the minor family..."

Vegas's lips curved into a small, enigmatic smile. "I know everything that happens there," he said, his tone as smooth as silk. "Let's just say, I have my ways."

A chill ran down my spine. His words were cryptic, but the implication was clear. He had eyes and ears in places I couldn't even imagine. But before I could press him further, Macau and Chay appeared, ready to leave for class.

"We should get going, or we'll be late," Macau said, checking his watch. I nodded, Porchay gave me a quick hug before they made their way to the car. As they left, Vegas's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, as if he had more to say. But he said nothing, just followed his brother to the car. I watched them drive off, my mind churning with too many questions, none of which I had answers to. What was Vegas hiding? And why did I get the feeling that whatever it was, it had everything to do with me?

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Kinn's POV

The air in the basement was thick with the stench of blood and sweat. The waiter sat slumped in the chair, barely conscious, his face was a swollen mess from the beating he'd endured. Big and the other bodyguards stood around him, their faces set in grim lines. The waiter's labored breathing was the only sound, a rasping reminder of the pain he was in.

But we needed answers, and we needed them now.

"Who are you working for?" I demanded, my voice cutting through the oppressive silence. The waiter flinched, barely able to lift his head to meet my gaze.

"I don't know," he croaked, his voice raw. "They... they just wanted Porsche. It has nothing to do with you guys, the major family."

His words hit like a punch to the gut. Porsche? Why him? What did they want with one of my bodyguards?

I exchanged a glance with Big, seeing the same shock mirrored in his eyes. This wasn't a random attack. It was calculated, targeted. And Porsche was at the center of it.

"Who gave you the order?" Big asked, his voice tight with controlled anger.

The waiter coughed, a wet, hacking sound that made my skin crawl. "I don't know," he repeated, his words tumbling out in a rush. "They... they gave me a photo of Porsche, told me to drug him, take him outside. There would be a car waiting... I didn't ask questions. I just did what I was told."

A photo. They had a photo of Porsche. Someone had planned this down to the last detail, and yet this fool knew nothing about who was behind it.

"Describe the people who gave you the orders," I demanded, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

But the waiter shook his head, wincing as the movement caused fresh pain to ripple through him. "I never saw their faces. They kept it all hidden. I swear, that's all I know."

My jaw clenched as I stepped back, trying to process what this meant. Porsche wasn't just caught in the crossfire-he was the target. And we had no idea who was behind it.

"Big," I said, my voice low but commanding, "call Porsche. He needs to know about this. Tell him to come here, now."

Big nodded and quickly dialed Porsche's number. I could hear Porsche on the other end, his voice filled with reluctance as he insisted he was on leave. But Big, knowing how to get through to him, mentioned the waiter, the incident. I listened as Porsche's tone changed, his curiosity and concern winning out over his desire for the day off.

As Big hung up, I turned back to the waiter, who was barely conscious now. Whoever was behind this had crossed a line, and I wasn't going to let them get away with it. Porsche was more than just a bodyguard now-he was involved in something bigger, something dangerous.

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Big's POV

The waiting for Porsche felt like an eternity, every second stretching out as I replayed the conversation with Kinn over and over in my mind. The waiter's confession had thrown us all off balance. Someone had targeted Porsche specifically, and the implications of that were terrifying.

When I called Porsche, I could hear the reluctance in his voice. He wasn't in the mood to be dragged back into the mess at the mansion, especially not after everything that had happened. But I knew Porsche well enough to know that if I dangled the right bait, he'd come. Mentioning the waiter, the incident-it was enough to make him agree, albeit grudgingly.

As I hung up, I felt a pang of guilt. Porsche deserved his break, deserved some peace. But there was no way we could leave him out there alone, not when there was so much we didn't know. Not when someone was out there, gunning for him.

My thoughts drifted to the photo the waiter mentioned. The fact that someone had gone to the trouble of obtaining a picture of Porsche, planning this attack with such precision, chilled me to the bone. This wasn't just a simple hit-this was something much more dangerous, much more personal. Someone had gone to great lengths to get to Porsche, and we had no idea why.

Kinn's tension was palpable as we waited for Porsche to arrive. I could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to piece together the puzzle.

Porsche was in danger, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.

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