Saturday – Night.
The club was an oasis of dim light and muted luxury. Velvet chairs hugged the corners. Jazz drifted through the air like smoke, weaving with the scent of aged liquor and expensive perfume.
Sophia sat alone in a shadowed corner, posture perfect, champagne flute balanced between her fingers.
She looked as if she belonged to this place... elegant, untouchable, and self-possessed. Yet beneath the calm façade, her thoughts worked like sharp blades.
A phone buzzed softly against the marble table. Without rushing, she lifted it to her ear.
"Yes?"
The voice on the other end reported progress... plans advancing as expected, small pieces already shifting into place.
A smirk curved at her lips. She tapped her nail against the crystal glass, each sound a measured beat of satisfaction.
"Carry on," she said, voice cool and crisp. A few taps sent a reward through to her contact. "Good work. Keep it moving."
