she obliterated everything she kissed.
Fancy.
Sofia liked fancy things. She'd be the first to agree that she had champagne tastes. Merino wool, silk sheets, extraordinarily expensive lacy underwear. Yeah. Her
dress was no different. It fit her like a glove, like it had been made for her and of course, it had. Sofia was all about haute couture, practical or not. With a lacy top and a skirt made from expensive, plum coloured brocaded fabric, she felt like a goddess. Sleeveless and a pretty high-low skirt, it awarded people with glimpses of her long slender legs as she strode down the street.
Her nails were painted black, her full lips a deep scarlet, her onyx locks up and back into a sleek chignon, pulling her black trench coat tighter around her slender waist. She liked Paris. She had an apartment here but she spent most of her time in Tuscany lately. Paris was just coming to life. The skyline was bright, shining into the inky blue sky that dusk brought with it. Lovers held hands, pausing to kiss in the street. People were finishing work, tourists were getting lost, happy to gawk at the world famous architecture around them. Sofia strode on, hips sashaying as though she owned the place. In her mind, she did. But she'd always had an inflated sense of self. Whoops.
Sofia got to pick the bar tonight. She'd opted for an opulent one. It was a little away from the centre of the French capital, tucked away, frequently only by the rich and upper class. Dominic had asked her for a drink so naturally, she assumed he had some business he wanted dealt with so she'd picked a rendezvous accordingly. It was a large place, full of dark wood and low lighting, casting a warm glow on the establishment. Dark fabrics, rich furnishings, expensive alcohol, why wouldn't she turn up here? She knew they'd be undisturbed. Sofia was quite used to dealing with Aeric so to have another Regan wanting to see her was peculiar indeed.
"Bonsoir," the Italian said with a smile to the doorman as he held the door open for her. Stepping in, the rush of warm air hit her and she unbelted her coat, peeling it off to hand to a woman to take care of before she climbed the stairs. The
bar overlooked the Parisian skyline, the roads and twinkling lights stretching for miles. It was about ten or so in the evening and there were very few people in here, bar the barman and some other staff. Good. Looking over her shoulder, she realised she was late but that wasn't her fault. She had…things to take care of. She just hoped that she'd gotten all of the blood out from underneath her nails.
Looking around, a lone figure caught her attention and she was pleased to see he'd snagged the table right next to the window. A clicking of designer heels and a waft of rich rose scented perfume announced her arrival. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Regan?" Sofia asked with a slow smile, her dark eyes seeming overly bright in the candlelight. Swiftly, she dropped into the seat, pausing to pick the drinks menu off the table and surveying it with interest. Almost instantly, someone was at her side as she turned to place an order.
"Could I have a glass of the Malbec, please?" She asked with another smile. "The gentleman's paying," she said, gesturing to Dominic with ease. There was no way in Hell she was paying. He'd dragged her away from Italy and her expensive, cast iron bath. She was planning on having a pampering night. Music, candles, expensive bath oils. She was going to get into her pyjamas with a good book and have an early night but here she was. She was interested to know why. Letting Dominic place his order, she reclined, crossing her long legs at the knee as she tilted her head curiously. "What can I do for you?" She asked, interested. "Or did you just miss me?" Sofia asked with a slow grin, a slim eyebrow arched.