Man In Disguise Novels & Stories

The fake drinks! “Catch up with that man!” He ordered his escorts, pointing towards the man who ran off, sensing he had been made. They ran after him at full speed and Adrian watched on agitated. “How do you like my gift?” An old man dressed in a cleaner outfit said with a shaky voice. Adrian just stood with his mouth agape as the old man started removing his disguise. “I told you we will meet again, didn't I?” The man said, amused. Adrian paled instantly, he hadn't seen this coming before it hit him. He knew the peace and quietness for a few months was too good to be true.

After all, tomorrow, I have a guest to interview at work. I stared down at my empty glass as the chatter of the people around me faded into the background. My heart felt heavy, still ravaged by what just happened to me. Suddenly, a tall, dark-haired man approached me. He was wearing a disguise, a cap pulled low over his eyes and a scarf covering his mouth. But even through the disguise, I could tell he was handsome. "Hey, you okay?" he asked in a low, smooth voice. I looked up at him, surprised. "I'm fine," I lied.

Names, accounts and deaths disguised as accidents. Her father’s handwriting. Her stomach twisted. Then she felt it. That sensation again. Being watched. Not the cameras. Something else. She scanned the room slowly. Near the back, a man stood apart from the others. Mid-forties. Ordinary face. Expensive suit worn like a disguise. He wasn’t looking at Dante. He was looking at her. Their eyes met. He smiled. Not polite. Not curious. Isabelle’s breath hitched. The man lifted his glass in a subtle toast.

•••• In the midst of all of this activity, Danica, who had been concealing the fact that she was actually herself,disguise herself , made her way to the Rendall Restaurants. She hid her true identity by covering her face with a pair of sunglasses, putting on a mask, and wearing a long dress. She also wore a pair of sunglasses to hide her eyes. As she got closer to the place where they were supposed to meet, she saw the person she was going to hang out with waving to her from a distance.

If they see that face, they must immediately hold them. As for Adrian, the man is, of course, very smart. He had been preparing for it for several days before this day arrived. Adrian is wearing a silicon mask of a man in his 40s. His handsome face was completely invisible. His disguise is perfect! Adrian even changed the scent of the perfume he often uses.

A common paranoia for the rich and powerful, I suppose. I had to pretend I didn't notice. I went about my days as normally as I could—walks to the market, sitting in the sun, sleeping. I spent that entire year walking on eggshells. After a year, the man disappeared. I suppose Alistair was finally convinced. For the next two years, I lived in silence. I volunteered at the local library, a quiet, pitiable mute whom the townspeople treated with a polite, friendly distance. Then, on the third New Year's Eve, a famous true-crime podcaster came to town. He set up in the coffee shop, his suspenseful, horrifying stories drawing a crowd every night.

I had just stepped out of the office when I saw Harold Jefferson walking over with Susan Lawson and her son, Jacob Lawson. Jacob seemed to have told a joke, as the three of them were laughing happily. A sense of bitterness welled up in my chest, and I instinctively stopped in my tracks. The moment Jacob saw me, his expression changed. He quickly hid behind Harold. Instantly, Harold adopted a defensive stance with an icy glare as he asked accusingly, "What are you doing here?"

I opened the door—but didn’t step aside. He looked exhausted. Tie loosened. Jacket wrinkled. The man who never lost control looked like he’d been holding himself together with thread. “You shouldn’t be here,” I said. “I know,” he replied. “But you disappeared.” “I told you I needed space.” “You resigned from everything,” he said. “That’s not space. That’s exile.” I let out a slow breath. “It was survival.” He nodded slowly. “Then let me help you survive.” “No,” I said quietly.

Ethan was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, while Jane clung to his arm, timid and innocent. I froze. The dress Jane was wearing was mine. It was a custom-made gown I had commissioned three years ago for my engagement party. Because it was bespoke, there was a small, hidden lily embroidered along the neckline. Now, that same lily rested against Jane’s collarbone, slightly warped under the weight of her necklace. To think Ethan had given it to her to wear! I turned sharply toward Timothy. He avoided my gaze, guilt written all over his face. Back then, he had taken the dress from my house, saying he was afraid I’d only hurt myself more by keeping it.

the other man : it's none of our business, we need money for that we should complete the work that was given to us, as we seen in many movies, she might be a heiress so that they wants to get rid of her for her property the man : we don't have anyother life other than killing people for money but why normal people are also cruel than us the other man : this is the real world, don't think much about these, concentrate on the work first the man : how we are going to kill her? the other man : boss don't want anyone to find her body also, so let's keep her in any of the Firework figurine, she gets burned along with the crackers the man : okay, let's do it the other man : I think that anaesthesia