Seduction: Lethal

Her name was Celeste. She had appeared three weeks ago at his casino, a shimmering ghost in a crimson dress. She lost at his blackjack table with a grace that felt like winning. She laughed at his jokes with a delay that suggested she was savoring them. She touched his arm—just once—with fingertips so cold they left a brand.

“It’s not personal, Marco,” she said, picking up his whiskey glass to wipe it clean. “It’s just that the deadliest poison doesn’t come in a vial.” Lethal Seduction

She clicked off the lamp.

(stepping back) I said I wanted to talk. There's a difference. Her name was Celeste

“Shh,” she cooed, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Don't fight it. You wanted to be close to me. Now you will be. Forever.” She laughed at his jokes with a delay

Tuesday? I was killing a lie. Yours.