𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 | 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯

➥ cipher; robbery

My eyes scan the crowd, each person attending this extravagant event an entrepreneur or the wife of one. Sipping on the complementary prosecco I look for the main prize only to find it displayed in the centre of the space.

I suck in some of the fresh air and check my watch. She's late. Again. I place down the drink and start to make my way over to the car, a black Chevrolet Impala 1967 with a red interior.

Cipher has wanted one of these since the first time we met and I was assigned as her second in command, and rather than buy her own with the endless stream of money she has she wants to steal one. From who? I have no idea, it's not my place to ask. Something to do with it being all original parts from what I've gathered from the people surrounding me. But it is undoubtedly a gorgeous car.

The rhythmic hum of a slow dance sets into place and couples glide to the space I guess you could call the dancefloor to pass time before the auction for this car starts.

I watch as a small group of singles eye me up and I pretend not to notice until one of them comes tumbling over. "Excuse me ma'am, I couldn't help but notice such a beautiful lady here alone." He starts and I shoot his a look of disinterest that goes straigh over him. "My name is Percy Whiston and I was hoping for a dance?"

"Well, Percy Whiston, though I appreciate the offer, I'll have to pass-"

"She's already taken, move along Whiston." Hands wrap around my waist protectively, anda body is pressed against my own. His eyes glide between the two of us and I feel her grip tighten around me.

"I see, enjoy your evening." He says before joining his friends and downing another whiskey.

Cool lips meet my neck, whispering and nipping, eliciting slightly heavy breathing from my mouth. We start to move towards the crowd of dancers and my body is swayed from side to side, her arms still around my waist and front to my back.

Entwining my hands in her hair and leaning against her collar help to stabilise me as we dance. "You're late."

"There was traffic."

"I've been waiting for hours." I complain again. She spins me and I find myself face to face with her blue eyes. She's dressed up in the suit I picked out to help conceal us amongst the people attending.

"I'm sorry my darling. But we can continue the plan now." She whispers, her mouth beside my ear. I feel every brush of her lips as she tells me the plan and I start to see how much of a genius she is. "And one last thing, after all this I'm going to fuck you because this dress, god." I hide my face in the crook of her neck.

"Better hope this goes well then." I mutter, flustered and hot. Oh so hot.

"It's showtime." She tells me as the lights brighten and the crowd starts to gather in front of the makeshift stage. We slip away and make our way around the back, the impala still in our eyesight. We split paths, each one taking their place either side of the stage. I turn to her and she nods.

First I flick off the PowerPoint and play a cat video, cheesy but distracting. Then as Cipher slips along the crowd and removes the car keys from the guards pocket, sneaking into the crowd and increasingly closer to the car, I pull out a set of wires and cut a few smaller ones.

I escape back into the crowd, blending in as the security guards and host attempt to figure out the problem and keep millionares happy. I make it to the back of the crowd and Cipher unlocks the car that draws everyone's attention.

She hops in and starts it, pulling a U turn as I sprint towards the exit. The passenger door opens and I jump in, closing it behind me and laughing as we make it out safely. I pull the small tracking tag from underneath the glovebox and discard it out the window, finally a safe distance from the event.

"Well well Miss Y/N, I didn't think my reward would spur you on to do so well, but, I do keep my word." Her hand glides across to my thigh, riding high beneath my dress, "Oh think of all the things I'm going to do with you when we get home."

I try not to collapse into my seat. She is going to be the end of me.

...

A/N : at this point fuck knows what I'm writing.