The Confident Woman

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by Nikkea Sharee




  The Confidence Woman

  Note: Sale of this book without a cover may be unauthorized. If this book was purchased without a cover, it may have been reported to the publisher as “unsold or destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher may have received payment for the sale of this book.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people either living or dead, actual events, establishments, organizations or locale are intended to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity and is entirely coincidental. Other names, characters, places or incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously as are those fictitious events & incidents that involve real persons and did not occur or are set in the future.

  Published by:

  Kweli Legacy, LLC

  Edited by: Ciara J. Lewis

  ISBN: 9781705786499

  Copyright © 2019 Nikkea Sharee

  Printed in the USA

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review, without permission in writing from the author or publisher, Nikkea Sharee or Kweli Legacy, LLC.

  Prologue

  By definition, a confidence man or woman (conman for short) is a trickster. Someone who seems to easily drift seamlessly through society while the entire time they have their eyes set on a particular subject. They have an agenda filled with very elaborate plans. One that may have many moving pieces but there are always three positions.

  The mark is the prey. This person typically has no idea that they are being targeted until it is too late and whatever triggered the attraction to them has been bled dry.

  The grifter is the major player. They must exude confidence because every single syllable that is dripping from their mouth can make or break the con. They must make the mark believe them at all cost so that they can achieve their goal. A gifted grifter morphs into the role they must play. They must if they wish to win.

  Finally, there is the shill. This person often hangs in the balance. In many instances they are not seen until it is absolutely necessary for them to make their presence known. Not to say they save the day, but they absolutely are key into pulling all the strings together so that the grifter can seal the deal. When it is time for the shill to step into the game, it is time for the long con to commence.

  The long con is the end of the road of what may have taken months or even years to get to. One thing is for certain, plan b must be ready if or when plan a failed.

  1

  "I was conned once," Vera dropped her hand to her side. She tapped her leg with the long sharp blade of the knife that she was holding. Feeling a chill from the cold steel as it touched the bare skin which was slightly revealed between her black miniskirt and thigh high leather boot, she remained unmoved. Her heart was colder than any chill that would ever touch her. That was mere fact. So, in that moment as she stood in front of her prey she was focused. This was a moment that she had waited for and nothing, not even an arctic chill would sway her from her goal.

  The man that was seated before her looked as though he had seen a ghost. He vaguely remembered her, while it was more than evident that she definitely remembered him. His mind failed him as he searched it desperately for answers. Not being in a position to speak, his mind simply wandered wildly as he did his best to search his thoughts. Where did he know her from? How did she get in his house? What time was it?

  His mouth had been bound and gagged. Hands tied behind his back were nearly cramping from the uncomfortable position that they were in. He felt groggy from whatever drug she shot into him that assisted in her being able to overpower him. The last thing he remembered was being asleep. Then at some point he felt a prick in his neck. He struggled to open his eyes as the liquid merged into his blood system. Next thing he knew he was looking at a stranger who had somehow made her way into his private home in the middle of the night.

  Sweat beads were trickling slowly down the side of his face. They blended with tears. While his mind was racing trying to figure out what would happen next, he did not have a lot of faith in the outcome of things. The only thing that he felt in that moment was that his future looked grim.

  "At the time I didn't know what was happening. Imagine being caught up in a nightmare that feels like a whirlwind. So much shit coming at you at once that you barely have time to catch your breath. Can you imagine that?"

  Of course, he could. It was happening to him at that very moment. The room was spinning. His world was crashing down all around him. And he still couldn't put his finger on who this woman was or what he had done to her that would make her so angry with him. Could it have been that he had done so many women wrong that now he would have to pay for years of deception? It surely felt that way. Still, for the life of him he couldn't figure out who he had hurt this bad to have wanted him dead. Eyes fixed on the knife in her hand, surely that would be the outcome of the night he was convinced. A woman he could barely remember was holding his destiny in his hands and all he could do was tremble at the thought.

  "Let me tell you a story. Do you have time? Of course, you do! It's two in the morning. Where are you going? You are tied up. I've got your attention. Allow me to entertain you." Vera let out a comedic cackle at her words that were dripping in a sardonic tone. She was in control and would take her time. There literally was nothing he could say to convince her otherwise. Not at the moment anyhow.

  Still, he was convinced that the longer she talked it would buy him time to figure this thing out. His fingers fidgeted behind him in the chair hoping to loosen himself from the ropes that were tied around them. He didn't realize they were also tied to the chair as well. The rope tightened with his every move. Pain was shooting through his entire body and it appeared that the night was going to be a long one. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

  "Five years ago, I was living one of those fairy-tale, too good to be true lives. I had a husband who provided everything I even thought I might need. He forbade me to work. Instead, he encouraged me to stay a trophy for him. I had to have the perfect hair, teeth, body, skin, everything. It didn't matter the cost, be it mental, physical or financial. He wanted me perfect. And I worked hard to be that for him. Shit, I didn't have much else to do as far as he was concerned. Why not be perfect for my man right? That’s what he would say constantly. And as long as he provided, I was there for it."

  She paced the room with a look of contention on her face as she started raiding his kitchen looking for a wine glass, bottle of wine and a corkscrew. "Bordeaux 1967? Well aren't we into the finer things," she said to the man, not expecting a response. Popping the cork and filling a glass, she watched with pleasure as he flinched at the sight of her devouring a rare bottle of wine as though the value meant nothing. As far as she was concerned, that was correct. In her lifetime she had way more expensive bottles of wine than this.

  Sipping slow, she made sure he paid close attention to the fact that she cared nothing for the things he valued. Again, he couldn't help but wonder what it was that he did to deserve this treatment. First being tied up and gagged. Then this strange woman going through his personal belongings all while holding a knife by her side. She seemed so cruel and calculated. He made a mental note to change his entire life if he were ever to make it out of this bind alive. He had never been a praying man, but as he remained restless, those thoughts had quickly changed as he prayed to whatever god would listen.

  "I won’t lie to you. I enjoyed doing what I wanted. Taking exotic trips. Being pampered and paid for. All that leisure is wonderful while you are wanted. The minute you are no longer desired, that’s when things can get… interesting."

  Again, she took a long, slow sip of th
e wine. This time she finished the glass. He watched as she carefully cleaned everything she touched in his kitchen after putting on a pair of latex gloves. She was slow and methodic. Humming to herself just a little, careful to put everything back in its place. The wine glass. Wine bottle. Corkscrew. Everything had a place and was returned there. She even picked up the foil that was wrapped around the bottle and lit a flame to it. Placing it in the sink and watching as the small flame grew quietly in the contained space before extinguishing it, the woman never lost her focus.

  "Life is much like this flame. Something unexpected comes in and sparks the fire. It burns with fury and grows with passion. Then suddenly another conduit is introduced into the atmosphere and extinguishes it. Simply shuts down any hope of spreading all the joy and happiness the flame was attempting to spread. That in essence is what happened to me. It's the reason we are here."

  Vera knew she was talking in circles. She knew she was confusing him. This was all a part of her plan. She had no intention of being straight forward. She had all night and would do to him what he had done to her.

  Fuck him.

  2

  Five years prior

  Vera had just come home from a vigorous work out. Every muscle in her body ached terribly as she fell exhausted on her king-sized bed. Knowing she only had a few hours before her husband would be home, she just wanted to take a few moments to regenerate.

  The sun penetrated the venetian blinds covering her body with warmth. Her life was good from a naked eye. Anyone looking on would say that she had it made. Little did they know all that went into being Vera Washington. One thing was for sure and that was that she would do anything to keep it the way that it was until it was time for her to change directions. Her husband was under the impression that he controlled everything in their relationship. Little did he know, he was a pawn as she was concerned. Vera would always be the queen and eventually he would see this. Until that time came, she let him think that he was the boss.

  The evening’s festivities would take a lot out of her. There was so much preparation that needed to take place. Resting was a necessary evil. However, so was preparation. Nigel was a man of very particular and exquisite taste. A taste that over the years she had trained herself very well on how to execute, no matter the cost.

  That night would be no different. Nigel requested candlelight. The music he preferred was classical, only he required that it be live. She had hired a pianist to play the grand piano that rested in the foyer. There would also be a harpist that would come to accompany the keys. And finally, a violinist to round out the sound. There was to be no percussion.

  For whatever reason he felt that the sound of percussion was too strong and somehow would overpower the room. Vera thought it a silly notion but knowing her husband, the only thing allowed from the percussion section would be a triangle. And though something as simple as the sound of a beating drum was impossible to compete with, he made the equation appear out of thin air and unreasonably. Although it was a strange position for anyone to take, she simply chalked it up to be apart of his eccentric nature. His hang ups had no effect on her up to that moment. For that reason, Vera allowed him to live in his head and have his tangents, which more times than less resembled that of a child pouting and throwing themselves on the floor in a fit. She had no time or patience for it so she played her position and kept it moving.

  A gust of air left her lungs as she struggled to keep her breath. While the work out was over, she was still winded. Her mind was still putting things together like a puzzle. Everything had to be perfect. She had to be perfect. Nigel would never be the man of her dreams, but he was a good provider so that was all that mattered, until she decided otherwise.

  Her phone began to buzz incessantly. Feeling as though it were miles away, she simply looked in the direction of the device. She should have gotten up. Anyone could be on the other line. The caterer. The musicians. Nigel. What made her move was the possibility that it was her husband.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey beautiful. Were you sleeping?”

  It was late in the day. He knew she was not sleeping. However, the tone of her voice said otherwise.

  “Just finished working out, so I was laying down for a bit.”

  “Getting ready for tonight?”

  “Yes,” a smirk covered her face. For years she played up to whatever his desires were. Today would be no different. Soon enough things would be different, but for now, he would always win.

  “Good. Did you call the pianist I gave you the number for?”

  He knew she had. Vera always followed his plans explicitly. When he decided to switch out their normal musician for another, she dared not question him. He wanted what he wanted. Liked what he liked.

  “Everything is in place. We are going to have a wonderful evening.” Vera ensured that her voice sounded convincing. This was her anniversary night after all. If she believed herself as she spoke to him, she knew he would believe her words as well. The truth was this anniversary night was special for reasons that were unknown to Nigel.

  “Good, that’s what I like to hear.”

  “Do you need for me to do anything else that you haven’t brought up before tonight?” Sweat still dripped along her lean frame. At the edge of the bed she kicked off the sport shoes she had been wearing so that her sock covered feet could stretch just for a bit. Toes curling underneath the cotton fabric, she began to unfurrow them one by one until she heard a slight pop. Slowly, using each foot to assist the other as she peeled off her socks so that her toes could breathe. With her feet feeling free for a moment she felt unrestricted.

  “I’m sure you have everything under control.” She knew his words were simply fable. He didn’t really believe that she was in control. And she was okay with him thinking that.

  “Absolutely. You don’t have anything to worry about. So, you just keep on through your day and all will be as you requested when you get home.”

  They disconnected the phone abruptly. There were no formal salutations, no fake ‘I love you’s’ spoken. Nigel liked to think that those were things left understood and not needing to be said. In his mind he showed his love by the way he had doted lavish gifts on her since the day they met. Nigel was under the misguided guise that his flaws were minimal. As far as he was concerned, he was her angel in disguise. What he knew of her past gave him the impression that he had save her from a mediocre life. It was true that there were things in her past that she did not share with him purposefully. Secrets that she would rather keep buried in the back of her mind. Instead she would rather enjoy the spoils of her current life, until she would finally be free of him and his controlling ways.

  ***

  Everything was going according to plan. Their anniversary dinner would go off without a hitch. While many would prefer to go out to a fancy restaurant, Nigel preferred to have the restaurant come to him.

  Dinner was set. A long mahogany wood table was meticulously laid out with the finest of china and polished antique silver. A table runner stretched from one side of the long end of the table to the other. In the center was an extravagant floral arrangement that draped ever so delicately around the serving dishes.

  She had ordered a four-course meal; nothing but the best for Nigel would do. He loved steak and so for the main course that was exactly what was prepared for him. Cooked medium well, it lay in a bed of roasted potatoes and onions. She knew that the appetizers, salad, and dessert would simply be the icing on the cake. What he really craved was the steak.

  In fact, Nigel could eat a T-bone steak everyday of the week if she would let him. On special occasions such as this, she allowed him to have as much as he liked. Not that she would deny him any other day. Still, most of the time Vera would strongly suggest that he try to eat something different. In most instances she won that battle. He would always win the war. Again, she was okay with that for now.

  From her bedroom on the second story of their home she could hear the pianis
t begin to play. It was exactly at six forty-five that she asked him to begin with a sonata from Mozart. Nigel would be home at seven. She asked that the man repeat the song until her husband walked through the door as that tune in particular was his favorite classical.

  Finishing up the last touches of her attire before descending the stairs to join the culinary staff and give final orders, Vera prepared her mind. Her husband was an insatiable being. A quiet night could go either way when it came to him.

  At the base of the winding staircase, she took a flute of champagne from the hostess dressed in all black. Things were going perfectly. In a few moments she would greet her husband on what would be their seventh year anniversary. A smile swept across her face as she allowed her mind to recall all the memories they shared together. Some bitter. Some sweet. However, everything led up to this moment. Seven years of marriage was very symbolic.

  The only regret that she had over the years was in the fact that she had not been able to bear him a child. They had gone to fertility specialists for years and still, no luck. She had thrown out the idea of adoption which he quickly shot down. He would however, entertain the idea of a surrogate. Nigel was very adamant about having his own seed sown.

  She knew that soon enough he would bring up the topic. Vera only hoped that he would not bring it up that night. The night was too special to her. They had made it past many milestones as it pertained to their marriage. Most of the people they had known that were married and in relationships at their wedding had long since broken up. Good friends had gone their separate ways. In all of that, they stayed strong. Some would refer to them as a power company and admire them from afar. From the outside looking in all was perfect. She worked very hard to keep it looking that way. If only one looked slightly beneath the surface, they would find something very different.

 

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