Download Chereads APP
Chereads App StoreGoogle Play
Chereads

The Partner in Her Crime

MissChievous
--
chs / week
--
NOT RATINGS
2.3k
Views
Synopsis
At a young age, Ambrosia Dawn Agustine was roped into a business she used to never want part from. She was the perfect instrument, but such an imperfect target. Over time, Amber has learned how to see it for what it was, through her father's eyes. A business worth growing, exponentially. Bianco D'angelo Fallaci, her partner in crime. An ace. Despite the lack of his direct involvement in Amber's business, his shadowy presence backstage made up for. However, trouble soon ensues when an intelligent hitman and a former prostitute's curiosity begs to be answered. GENRE: CRIME, DRAMA, REALISTIC, ACTION
VIEW MORE

Chapter 1 - Prologue

At a young age, Ambrosia Dawn Agustine was roped into a business she used to never want part from. She was the perfect instrument, but such an imperfect target. Over time, Amber has learned how to see it for what it was, through her father's eyes. A business worth growing, exponentially.

Bianco D'angelo Fallaci was her partner in crime. Her ace. Despite the lack of his direct involvement in Amber's business, his shadowy presence backstage made up for.

However, trouble soon ensues when an intelligent hitman and a former prostitute's curiosity begs to be answered.

***

Lead is a woman however, don't leave just yet. Unfortunately, there was no such thing as realistic in the fEmAlE lEAds genre options.

GENRE: CRIME, DRAMA, REALISTIC, ACTION.

***

Copyright infringement is a crime punishable by law.

***

It smelled strongly of alcohol and really cheap perfume. Colored strobe lights filled the room as they flashed, slightly blurring people's faces. It was difficult to catch their faces anyway, with all the strippers walking and fooling around with the locals. Despite the obvious trouble this place breeds, enough people were inside to drown everyone else of their identity.

Most people were wore a little or nothing at all. The pop song blasting over the speakers sounded much closer to noise than music. It was objectively an annoyance, then again, it was that or the sound of people slobbering over each others' mouth.

Tables were filled and orders were taken, one after another after another, almost immediately. The dance floor was a pathetic excuse for the locals to engage in softcore porn with everyone else involuntarily watching. In fact, there was no need to focus to hear moans, you'd have to focus not to. Tone deaf people also sang along to the awkward hum the song brings. Very few actually drank and flirted like normal people. It was a chaotic place.

What'd he say, left corner? As I tried to remember what he told me, someone with a mildly damp arm lightly bumped into my shoulder. My body instantly retracted.

He was a big, taller figure. He distractingly smelled like dusty newspaper combined with old, male musk. Despite the golden victorian patterned mask plastered on his face, a couple of greying beard strands show themselves. His mask flashed brightly along to the strobes and his eyes were nothing more than dark pools of abyss, waiting for eternal consumption.

"Sorry," he muttered in a rather deep voice while delaying the walk and just rushed out. The muted smell of burnt strawberry followed him away. I wiped the stranger's sweat off my shoulder. I didn't bother looking anymore either and minded my own business. In a place like this? You're bound to.

On a dimly lit corner on the left, there was a small, brown paper bag sitting below a circular glass table. It was colored the same value the wall was, camouflaging lightly whenever the strobes flash a different, more suited hue. I almost missed it myself and looked back twice.

I pulled and sat on the empty metal chair and grabbed the fluffy napkin I felt inside. I tilted it to the flash of the lights.

4801 Morana Wells, Fifth Avenue Apartment 8

After viewing, I slid it right in my pocket. As I dug deep within the bag, I felt a smooth, probably pebble slide on my fingertips. I didn't bother picking it up, anchoring the bag back to the ground.

I was about to up and leave, when a heavily tattooed waiter came up to me to ask something. Only, he wasn't a waiter, there was barely anything covering his crotch.

I looked up to him and stiffened. I fell a bit limp and cold back on the seat. It was as if I was momentarily stripped of the ability to walk. I couldn't look away from him. Despite all the flashing lights altering his color, his face remained equal under all strobes.

He had medium-thick wide lips whose corners are turned a little downwards, soft cat-like, jaded eyes with lateral flare, a fairly slim nose with a slight bump on the bridge, and a combination of v and squared facial shape. He had a gentle, warm expression on his face but dauntingly lustful eyes.

He had black tattoos on the right areas. On his throat, chest, ribs, and pretty much everywhere. His body almost looked like a children's book, waiting to be colored. He wasn't too scrawny, nor was he extremely buff. He was sculpted by hand by the goddess herself, Aphrodite.

He smiled, rolled his eyes, and sat on my lap. He gently placed his elbow on the table, resting his slightly tilted head on his palm. The other played with strands of my untied, jet black hair. He delicately brushed the strands, mindful of my face and neck as he does so. He was careful not to touch anything else. While his soft, feline eyes dared gaze at mine, he repeated the question.

"What can I get you?"

I looked around for a bit and ultimately decided. Going against protocols really takes you to new places. I was instantly reminded my face shouldn't take full credit. After all, I sported a heavy onyx corset, expensive black thong, a pair of leg fishnets and to top it off, dark, tall, studded boots.

Upon noticing how exposed my breasts were, his eyes were then uncomfortably confined to stare at my neck and face. Not even the at collarbone.

"You can look."

I lightly pulled down on the corset just enough for him to see. I leaned a little to the front and pulled it down even more, dropping one tit out and flopped it in again. When I looked up, all I could see were his sinful eyes, locked on my chest.

"You can touch."

He slowly began caressing me in areas he otherwise wouldn't have, grinding against my body, and placing gentle kisses on the neck. You could feel a warmth on my stomach, slowly expanding, brushing against my skin even more. I helplessly struggled and tried to fight it, but then again, what's so bad with having fun just this once?

"You wanna...?" he asked and pointed towards the back. Assuming where they take the clients to have fun in.

I nodded and he pulled me. As we were about to enter a room, I stopped in my tracks. I didn't bring that much.

"Hourly?"

"For you, free."

He kissed me against the unlocked door, pushing it open. He lifted me from the floor and I clasped my legs around his torso. I buried my face in his neck and smothered him with kisses. As he carried me all the way to the room, there was a smell of faint fruit lingering in the air.

"What is it with strawberry today?" I asked while shaking my head both sides and pulled his hair to kiss him.