This is my first story on Wattpad but I've been writing for a long time. Like/Comment throughout the story if you enjoy it! I hope you all like it!
He hovered over my shoulder and ran his fingers down my right leg. I took a deep breath not able to see down the dimly lit hallway.
Music echoed from the ballroom but it sounded faint to me because here I was in a far hallway with his breath tingling on my pale flesh as he whispered,
"Are you ready?" I gulped feeling his fingers slowly lift up my dress and stop at the hem of my stockings. I caught his hand and nodded. I could feel him smile as I wrapped my quivering fingers around the cold flask that rested in my garter.
No, not a flask. A flask had once been tucked there. Now I grasped the cold metal of a gun. My heart raced as I turned up to him.
"Tell me you're ready." He whispered pulling my dress down so that the sequenced chiffon covered the weapon. I glanced down the hallway once more and nodded again.
"I-I'm ready."
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To Become A Con Artist
Ficción históricaCon Artist (noun): a person who cheats or tricks others by persuading them to believe something that is not true. The Scene: New York City 1926 The Girl: Claire Manor knows little about the world outside of her tenement slum. However, she's sure of...
