Sophie manoeuvres the tall glass doors open while she scrubs at the coffee stain on her dress with crumpled napkins. The spill has turned clammy, clinging cold against her skin.
She shivers as the cool air inside the lobby of Ville d'Ange makes it worse. The hotel soars what looks like thousands of floors into the sky, populated by wealthy occupants.
Fed up, Sophie discards into a bin near the entry and pulls the oversized leather jacket around herself, scrunching her nose at the smell of body odour.
The fast clacking of her heels on the marble floors alert the receptionist sitting behind a smooth travertine counter.
"Hello," she greets Sophie, wearing her best customer service smile.
"How may I help you, ma'am?"
Sophie grimaces at the woman's earrings.
Fakes.
"Yep, hi. I have penthouse suite under Sophie Hunt."
She taps her nails on the counter impatiently, despite the words only just having rolled off her tongue.
"Of course, let me see... Hunt, was it?"
"Yes, I just said that," Sophie shoots back in a sharp tone, making the receptionist's smile falter.
"Of course, sorry, miss Hunt. And how many nights were you staying?"
Sophie heaves a bored sigh.
"Seven."
The woman pours over her spreadsheet, eyes darting from one name to another.
Disinterested, Sophie flicks the petal of a white rose belonging to a crystal vase atop the counter.
Out of habit, she assesses the price.
Her brows arch in surprise.
The vase should be approximately $400, judging by its quality. And there are plenty of them dotted around the lobby.
Sophie raises her chin in approval.
"I'm sorry," The receptionist begins, frowning.
"Unfortunately, other guests appear to have the Penthouse suite booked. They arrive tonight, so I'm afraid we can't accomodate you in that suite."
"No, obviously that's incorrect," Sophie replies, making the receptionist flinch. "I booked the suite a long time ago. Can't you bump the other guests?"
"Sorry ma'am. I'm not permitted to do that. The guests should be arriving very soon."
"Yup, that'd be us," a familiar voice says from close behind. Sophie turns slowly, anger flushing her cheeks pink.
"Nice to see you again, Princess," Says the dark haired man from the airport. She wonders how a man who looks as tacky as he managed to land the penthouse. She peers behind him to find a misfit group of three others.
A tall guy, a blond guy and an old guy.
They look as though they haven't bathed in years, all of them. She stifles a laugh.
There's not a chance they're staying in the penthouse.
"May I have your name?" The receptionist beams, neatening her hair as her attention turns to the dress-ruiner.
Sophie watches him expectantly, a frigid look in her eye.
"Nikki," he replies, looking directly at Sophie, an arrogant smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"And last name?"
"Sixx."
Sophie thinks it's a stupid name, wearing an expression that looks as if she'd bitten into rotten fruit.
"Yes! These are yours." The woman grabs a key from a drawer and drops it into his open palm.
"Aw, too bad, Princess," Nikki remarks, giving her a mocking sympathetic look.
His eyes flick from her head to toe and back, lips twisting in a feral grin.
"You should wear leather more often, by the way. You look less like a snob."
Then he whistles piercingly at the group behind him and walks away as Sophie watches in fury.
The group laugh raucously and fill the entire lobby with noise, receiving stern looks from other guests. But it doesn't look as though they really care.
Sophie turns to the receptionist as their voices ring out in the background, echoing against the walls.
"I'll have my father know about this service. You can expect to lose your job very soon."
She whirls around and storms away, golden hair streaming like ribbons.
"Wait! Miss Hunt?"
Sophie halts, a sly smile creeping to her face.
"If you'll take it, the VIP room is prepared.
It isn't dissimilar to the penthouse, and the spa and lounge are still accessible if you have a VIP pass. I can sort that out for you right now if you'd like?"
And there it is.
Sophie pivots and faces the receptionist, narrowing her eyes.
"Alright, but I must get a refund for this mess. The penthouse was already paid for."
"I can do that," The woman promises, nodding her head enthusiastically.
"Then I'll take your offer," Sophie agrees.
***
The VIP suite isn't terrible. Sophie trails her fingers along a pristine lounge. It's no penthouse, but it'll do.
Large windows skirt the entire length of the back wall, showing off the twinkling lights of the city.
Sophie thinks of it as light pollution, but beautiful light pollution at that.
The entire room is dressed in whites and delicate golds. The bedspread has intricate gold patterns on its soft, silken material, with many comforting pillows and cushions.
The scent of vanilla lingers in the air, but Sophie's nose detects a cheap room spray, bought it bulk.
But it wasn't like she expected a hotel to spend millions on elegant perfumes.
Sophie kicks off her heels, delighted to finally be in L.A. after her six hour flight.
She wriggles her toes on the carpet and then fixes the bed with a mischievous smile.
She moves silently, nimbly, and then takes a bounding leap onto its plump covers, landing with a squeal of glee.
She rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling, hardly able to wipe the smile from her face.
There is just something about travelling that brings her such joy.
The excitement, the adventure, and probably the royal accomodation.
Sophie springs up and explores the rest of the room.
Attached is a large bathroom with a tub equipped with jets and a large mirror with lights that brings on a cheerful expression.
Or perhaps it was the sight of her own face in the mirror.
Sophie is a particularly neat person, so she spends the next fifteen minutes organising her clothes. As she goes, she changes her spoiled dress and replaces it with a short black cocktail dress.
Once finished, she sits on the floor, shoulders slumped. Now the suite has become less fun.
Perhaps a dinner out might ease the boredom.
Sophie's happiness reignites with the thought of styling her outfit. She decides to pair her black dress with sleek round toe lace up stilettos, and sweeps her hair into a messy updo.
Then she tucks her room key into her bra and flicks off the lights as she exits, only to be knocked backward.
"Oh! Funny seeing you here."
It's beginning to grow old, running into Nikki.
"Hilarious. Are we done talking? I don't have time for this."
Nikki, still adorned in his torn and dirty
t-shirt and pants, moves an inch closer.
"Aw c'mon, wait a second."
Sophie slips around him and begins walking again, only for Nikki to take two large strides and catch up easily.
"We're not going to be friends, Nikki Sixx," he huffs. "And if you're trying to find pals, I'd start by wearing some deodorant."
He laughs.
"I don't want to be your friend. I want my fucking jacket back."
Sophie stops and stares into Nikki's green eyes, making herself as tall as possible.
"You're not getting it. Not until you replace my dress or come up with some money. Those are my terms."
Nikki stares her down in return, unfazed by her stubbornness.
"I'm not giving you jackshit."
"Well I guess I'll just keep it then," Sophie smiles brightly. "We're done here."
She moves forward, pushing past him again.
Nikki laughs and cuts her off, placing a hand on the wall, blocking the hall off.
"No, we're not done. Where are you going?"
"None of your business."
Nikki's jaw tightens and his eyes follow Sophie as she ducks under his arm.
He's unused to having someone so uninterested with him, so ready to have nothing to do with him.
And to be frank, it frustrates him.
As soon as she's out of sight, he jiggles the handle on Sophie's door experimentally.
Locked.
Well, that had never stopped him before.
***
"And you're how old, Sophie?" The man with the smooth Italian accent asks, placing his large, calloused hand over hers, thumb stroking her wrist.
"Twenty-three, why do you ask?" She replies, charming him with a smile.
The man retracts his hand and pulls his fingers through oily salt and pepper hair.
"Well... A man of my age can't be seen with a girl as young as you... I have a reputation to protect, no?"
Sophie laughs inwardly. She knows he could tell her age. He's testing her, how she reacts. She isn't dull.
But a free meal is a free meal, right?
And what's the fun in eating by yourself?
It's kind of like a game for her.
Not because she seeks validation, but because she likes the thrill. Plus, blackmailing her victims later has proven to earn her plenty of expensive gifts.
For instance, the time she threatened to tell the wife of a man that liked to spoil her what was going on between them.
After that, she received whatever she wanted from him. Men are too easy to trick. Why wouldn't she take advantage of their cheating, scandalous ways?
"Personally, Mr. Bonetti, I see no reason as to why this is wrong. We're just sharing dinner, aren't we? But, if you aren't comfortable, maybe we should go somewhere more... Private."
A suggestive smile plays at her lips as she traces a spiral on the large, shiny ring he has stuffed onto his finger. The ring has a thick gold band that by the looks of it, is 10 karat gold.
A deep black Onyx stone sits right in the centre, an eye catching piece.
She wants the ring by the end of the night.
"Well, how hungry are you, Sophie?" Mr. Bonetti asks, gravelly voice spiking in excitement.
"Dinner can wait," Sophie replies, fixing him with a seductive look.
"Well, let me pay the drinks bill and then we can go somewhere more private, like you say."
Sophie hadn't had more than a few sips of alcohol, monitoring where his hands where at all times.
Sophie still encouraged Mr. Bonetti to drink nonetheless. She finds that men tend to be more generous under the influence.
Mr. Bonetti was eager to please her, so he bought expensive wine and drank nearly all of it by himself.
Sophie will never get into trouble for what she does. It's not illegal, it's all up to her date to give her what she wants. All she has to do is tease their subconscious, weave her way into their thoughts.
She is a nightmare with a hauntingly beautiful face.
And what can these men do afterwards?
Tell their wives? Call her?
As if she'd give anyone her personal information. That makes her vulnerable. And vulnerability is the greatest weakness in Sophie's eyes.
"This ring is beautiful," She murmurs, pretending to be entranced by it, layering the same honey in her voice.
Mr. Bonetti smirks.
"You like, eh?"
"I do! It must have cost a fortune. You're a rich man, aren't you Mr. Bonetti?"
She raises her gaze to his, awaiting his reply.
The net has been cast, time to draw him in.
"Well, Sophie, I hate to boast... But I suppose I am rather well off, yes."
"Don't be hesitant," Sophie says, tinkling with soft laughter, specialised for men like him.
"I like a powerful man."
There, she locks eyes with him once again, sending a rolling wave of excitement over Mr. Bontetti's skin.
He sits in silence, stunned by this young girl who had so confidently approached him and sat at his table not so long ago. And now here he is, sure that she will be sleeping in his bed tonight.
Not a chance.
Sophie's tactics of finding men like him are simple. Find a well dressed guy, bump into him, drop a purse, ask a favour or just introduce yourself. Pick any, they all work.
"Well... Shall we? My place isn't far."
Mr. Bonetti pushes back his chair and stands, pulling a wallet from his navy blue suit pocket.
He lays a few notes on the table and extends his hand out to Sophie.
"Come, my car is just over there."
Sophie takes his hand and lets him lead her away.
Only ten minutes later, she is sat comfortably on a large white couch with Mr. Bonetti sitting near.
"You are such a beautiful thing, look at you," he marvels, twisting her blonde locks in his fingertips.
"Oh, you're so sweet," Sophie replies, faking shy.
"I want to make love to you, Sophie. Is this something you would enjoy?"
She bites her lip coyly and reaches to straighten his collar, pausing to have a moments silence, just looking into his eyes.
"I'd like that," she finally says.
She has him under her thumb.
Sophie eyes the door. Her escape.
"But Mr. Bonetti, I don't come for free, you see. I'd like to try on that ring of yours."
He laughs hoarsely.
"But of course. You deserve gifts, no?"
Sophie widens her eyes in surprise.
"I was only kidding, but do you really mean it? You'd let me have this beautiful ring?"
Mr. Bonetti pats her shoulder and nods.
"Yes, you keep it, gorgeous. It has better use on you, no?"
Sophie reserves a triumphant grin.
"Thank you! You're too generous."
Mr. Bonetti takes her hand and she watches him slip the ring onto her finger with glee.
"I'll treasure this," She murmurs.
"But now comes the time to repay me, hey?"
Mr Bonetti advances, tucking a strand of hair behind Sophie's ear.
"Before we do that, I'll just freshen up. I think I left my purse in your car, it has my... Essentials in it. I'll only be a minute. Alright?"
Mr. Bonetti digs into his pocket and retrieves his keys, passing them off to her.
Now, this might be the perfect opportunity to steal an old man's nice car, but Sophie prefers to abide by the law.
So, once she is has the keys, she dips out and grabs her purse from the hedge she'd thrown it in earlier. Why would she leave her purse in his car if there's no guarantee he'd give her his keys?
Then she tosses the keys onto the pavement and slips out of her heels.
The car's for whoever comes across the keys, be it Mr. Bonetti or a thief.
Then Sophie catches a cab back to the hotel with a full tummy, a new ring, and a night's excitement.
It was almost too easy.
Sophie returns to her VIP suite only to find the door already ajar.
From the penthouse, she can hear loud, heavy music.
Rolling her eyes, she pushes the door open, assuming housekeeping had come through and had been too lazy to properly shut the door.
But to her surprise, the room is left in complete shambles.
Pillows are scattered all over the floor, the bed coverings have disappeared, and the decorative assets of the suite are either broken or missing.
She hurries to her wardrobe, but luckily everything inside seems to untouched.
Except for one thing.
The leather jacket has vanished.
Sophie rushes back to the bedroom and gasps as she notices the quilts billowing outside, tied to the balcony.
It isn't a mystery as to who did it.
"Nikki Sixx!" She hollers, pounding on the Penthouse Suite door wearing a stormy expression.
"Open the door!"
Her voice is barely audible over the music blasting inside.
"Sixx!" She yells, slamming her fist into the door again. The door is thrown open, and a tall, fluffy haired guy greets her with a fetching grin, jaw working as he chews gum.
His eyes flick over her body and he leans on the frame.
"Who're you?" He asks as Sophie tries not to boil over with anger.
"Where is your friend?"
"Vince?" He throws a glance over his shoulder.
"No, Nikki."
Sophie pushes the other guy away, looking inside.
They've already trashed the place. It's a total dump.
In the middle of it all, is a redhead woman with her tits out. Nikki is buried in her bust, making her squeal with laughter.
"Do you wanna come in?" The skinny guy asks, spitting his gum onto the floor.
Sophie takes a quick step backward, realising she might ruin her shoes if she takes another step forward. Who knows what's in that filthy carpet.
"You can hang with me."
"No thank you, I'm here to talk to that asshole about my room."
"Was that yours?" He laughs.
"The one we wrecked?"
"Yes, Douchebag. That was mine," Sophie snarls.
"Shit, I didn't know that. What's your name? I'm Tommy, by the way. Sorry about the room."
"Tell Nikki that Sophie's here, and hurry up."
Tommy smiles.
"Sophie. Cute. Alright then, one second."
Sophie hates it when someone refers to her as cute. Especially before anything that doesn't have to do with her appearance. But it isn't like it's an insult.
Tommy closes the door in her face, shutting out some of the noise.
She waits in the hall, straight as pole as the seconds tick by.
Finally, the door reopens, and Nikki stands in front of her shirtless, and with lipstick stains imprinted on his neck and shoulders.
"What do you want?"
Sophie's face contorts as the anger returns.
"Puzzling, isn't it? How bout you just take a peek at my room?"
Nikki laughs loudly.
"Oh yeah, you're welcome. We thought it need redecorating."
"You're such a fucking prick!" Sophie exclaims, shoving him in the chest.
He regains his balance, surprised.
"Woah, relax. The hotel will sort it out. You won't have to lift a finger, yeah?"
"And guess what I'll tell them?"
Nikki smiles.
"What will you tell them, Princess?"
Sophie scowls.
"Don't call me that. And I'll just tell them that a bunch of guys from the penthouse stuffed up the place because they were on drugs. How would you like a trip to jail?"
She has no problem sending the troublesome bunch into a cell.
Plus, it means she may get the penthouse suite after all.
Nikki throws a glance over his shoulder.
There are, in fact, an abundance of illegal substances in their room.
"Um, look. Maybe don't do that."
Sophie sneers.
"What do I get then?"
Nikki scrambles for ideas, but nothing comes to mind.
Sophie smiles.
"Great! I have to go and make a phone call, Ciao!"
Nikki curses under his breath and grabs her arm, guiding her back.
"Fuck, alright. What do you want?"
"The penthouse."
His shoulders slump.
"Really? You're gonna make four guys stay in one room?"
Sophie shrugs.
"Book more then. Simple."
Nikki, far beyond irritated, decides to put his foot down.
"You know what? No. You're not getting this room and you're definitely not sending me to jail."
He steps back inside and slams the door, leaving a mildly surprised Sophie staring at the golden letters stuck on the door spelling out the name of the room she so badly wants.
A slow smile creeps to her face, and then she stalks back to her room, picks up the phone book and dials a number.
Twenty minutes later, a band of four arrive at the Penthouse, bursting impolitely at the door.
The four men step inside, sending flirtatious looks at each of the other four men, stripping them quickly of their confidence and replacing it with confusion.
Hookers.
Sophie smiles as the heavy rock music is replaced with a throbbing, sensual tune.
Two minutes later, the entertainers are kicked out, roaring with laughter.
They're not unfamiliar with the situation.
After that, Sophie is able to get a full night's sleep unbothered.