@jacksauvage
There was a buzz in the air as everybody began arriving at the Arnault house following Anais’ concert that evening. Once again, he was amongst those he would rather not spent too much time with...then again, when was her really with anybody he enjoyed spending time with?
With a glass of welcome champagne from the ostentatious tower, he thanked the waitress and made his way deeper into the building. The walls were festooned with modern paintings, chandeliers boasting a wealth he knew Arnault probably could not anymore, but that was his secret to keep and use at the right time.
Bringing the coupe to his lips, he entered the next room - a grandiose ballroom with a boisterous band playing at the other side. He took in the crowd for a few moments before walking towards a guest on his own, the son of a business acquaintance he once knew before his passing. He hadn’t seen him since the funeral.
“Monsieur Sauvage.” He extended his hand towards the younger man. “How have you been? Last I heard you were back in Paris for good? Is that still the case?”