Paris was coming alive.
Despite it being just after eleven at night by the time she'd finished with Dom, Sofia sashayed down a damp and worn Parisian street. Still early by continental standards, bars and clubs were hopping. As she walked, she heard snippets of vaguely familiar music. From jazz with tall, moody strangers furiously chain smoking outside to dub step, complete with neon dressed teenagers. Sofia was far too old for club hopping now, she'd never been keen on it as a teenager anyway.
She loved Paris. It oozed elegance and sophistication. The men were rats but they were continental. Monogamy was a thing of the past now, like marriage almost. It was an archaic and outdated tradition. The woman, however, were beautiful. Tall, slim, chic. Everything was always go. No one stopped. Everything was rushing and busy. The shops were open late but she'd stopped in to one of the leading Muggle designer shops and paid for a dress which was wrapped and waiting for her to pick up in the morning.
Her long dark locks still shined as she stepped beneath the weak light from the street lamps, happily crossing one of the many gloomy bridges that crossed the wide Seine. Her pace was quick. Like every city, there was dodgy areas. Up near the Sorbonne and Montmatre, though lively, were skeezy. Sofia didn't like apparating at night. She didn't own a property in Paris herself. She never saw the point. She didn't stay more than a night or two which was why she'd booked herself into an upscale hotel.
The night's chill had descended as she wrapped her coat around her. In her meeting with Dominic, she hadn't eaten but she had drank. A lot. Once checked in, she'd be kicking off her heels and ordering room service. Sofia was a woman of the world and always had a supply of various currencies on her person.
Striding down the long, pristine and tree lined Champs-Élysées, she didn't stop to window shop. Wizarding clothes were all well and good but they were a bit…safe? Muggles didn't really seem to care what they wore which was partly why she shopped here. Her long legs continued to walk another few minutes before she took a left and stopped at a large, multi-tiered hotel. Offering a smile to the doorman (complete with top and tails) that opened the door for her, she wandered straight across the
lobby and to the concierge desk.
"Ah
bonsoir," Sofia greeted the young, blonde woman behind the desk. After exchanging pleasantries, she signed a slip of paper with a flourish. Underneath her left arm was a pile of slim, black folders. The French capital was rife with pickpockets so as a precaution, she'd charmed the papers. The information that Dom had offered up had been wiped clean, hidden beneath a layer of spells that could be reversed when she got back to Tuscany and had time to read through things properly.
The concierge seemed pleased to see her and why shouldn't she? Sofia was a riot. Reaching across the desk, her tanned fingers took the heavy golden keys to her suite. Not quite the penthouse (someone had already booked it and she was fuming mad) but the next one up. With a king sized bed and a Jacuzzi bath with a view of the Eiffel Tower, it'd do rather well. As the woman wished her a goodnight, she smiled. "
Merci, à beintôt." Turning on her heel, she shifted her files and her heart dropped.
Sat on one o the plush and comfortable gilded chairs in the lobby was the daughter of the man she'd just been to see. How on earth did she find her? That family was creepy. Sofia's slender shoulders slumped, clearly not that pleased to be seeing the other brunette. "You have
got to be kidding me."
