04-29-2023, 09:21 PM
Sofia met the stare of the one in the back; watched his leer travel the entire length of her body like an animal at prowl. The return of her haughty-eyed expression was of a goddess expectant of worship from lesser creatures. It was as close as he’d get to whatever imaginings flashed behind those mismatched eyes. Her confident stance did not shift; neither to flaunt nor hide. She knew from Pasha’s description that he was the ghost. But she cared less about the measures that must protect him than the understanding he was the one who’d expected to beat Maksim.
“Clearly,” she said to the Asian’s quip. Her attention finally cut away.
The other man dripped wealth. From the heavy coat propped on his shoulders to the way he held himself. His tongue was uncouth and charming. Pavel would weather that patiently, but there would be no smiles before he took a measure of the situation and the man. Friends saw another side, and only family the truth, but in the meanwhile he would be affable enough. He made a sound of acknowledgement at the introduction, and nodded. There had been no real doubt that this was all tied to Yun Kao’s unceremonious sweep from the board, but a relative’s hand had not been expected. What a dismal recommendation to the hand of friendship that made. Sofia eyed him anew.
“You’ve been a busy man,” Pavel said. “And you already know who I am. Your invitation was novel to say the least.” He would dissect the information as it came in a way Sofia did not presently care to, but they both knew there had been no name on that note left with the host, and no real way for Zixin's informants to know who would be intercepted with Maksim. It made no difference so far as Sofia was concerned. Still, they were here because Pavel was prepared to listen. But beneath leather gloves his knuckles must be smarting.
“This is Sofia Vasilieva.”
She watched on in interest. Doubtless her introduction had not been in his intentions; not while the scarred stranger remained nameless and flicking that knife against his leg. But she knew exactly why he did it. Pavel’s hard stare momentarily switched to the man in question, and stayed there.
“My sister.”
A faint smile tugged her lips, smug and sly. Not because she expected it in any way to be a revelation, but because she never tired of that feeling: the possessive protections of family. “Condolences,” she added into that void of tension, amused; for big brother’s offence or Zixin’s bloody hands, it was unclear. “Supposing you have any use for them. I liked her. You think you can fill those shoes, Zixin Kao?”
“Clearly,” she said to the Asian’s quip. Her attention finally cut away.
The other man dripped wealth. From the heavy coat propped on his shoulders to the way he held himself. His tongue was uncouth and charming. Pavel would weather that patiently, but there would be no smiles before he took a measure of the situation and the man. Friends saw another side, and only family the truth, but in the meanwhile he would be affable enough. He made a sound of acknowledgement at the introduction, and nodded. There had been no real doubt that this was all tied to Yun Kao’s unceremonious sweep from the board, but a relative’s hand had not been expected. What a dismal recommendation to the hand of friendship that made. Sofia eyed him anew.
“You’ve been a busy man,” Pavel said. “And you already know who I am. Your invitation was novel to say the least.” He would dissect the information as it came in a way Sofia did not presently care to, but they both knew there had been no name on that note left with the host, and no real way for Zixin's informants to know who would be intercepted with Maksim. It made no difference so far as Sofia was concerned. Still, they were here because Pavel was prepared to listen. But beneath leather gloves his knuckles must be smarting.
“This is Sofia Vasilieva.”
She watched on in interest. Doubtless her introduction had not been in his intentions; not while the scarred stranger remained nameless and flicking that knife against his leg. But she knew exactly why he did it. Pavel’s hard stare momentarily switched to the man in question, and stayed there.
“My sister.”
A faint smile tugged her lips, smug and sly. Not because she expected it in any way to be a revelation, but because she never tired of that feeling: the possessive protections of family. “Condolences,” she added into that void of tension, amused; for big brother’s offence or Zixin’s bloody hands, it was unclear. “Supposing you have any use for them. I liked her. You think you can fill those shoes, Zixin Kao?”
![[Image: vasiliev--scaled.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/04/vasiliev--scaled.jpg)