Chapter 25: Dance of the Tulips

The lighter clicked on after a few tries, and Isabella drew the cigarette to her lips, taking in a long breath and exhaling smoke over the bar. She was in a dingy little pub in Paris, it suited someone like her.

The lights were dim and the air was thick with smoke and alcohol, the women were drunk and the men were non-threatening. She ran a hand through her hair before taking another drink of her vodka on the rocks, swallowing heavily.

She wasn’t bad looking by any means, but she was intimidating. Men had the sense to stay the hell away from her, and women, though they might be drawn in by her rough charm, also had the sense to keep their distance.

Isabella’s fingers curled around the glass as she thought about herself, feeling disgust rise to the back of her tongue. It tasted bitter, like an old cigarette.