The Godmother's Waltz

@vivienne

The string quartet saws through a Strauss waltz beneath the gilded ceiling of the Hotel Adlon, champagne sweat and expensive perfume thickening the air. Vivienne stands alone at the edge of the dance floor, black silk and a leather patch over her left eye, watching the man from the Bundesbank laugh too loudly at his own joke. Her glass tilts slightly toward you as you pass with a silver tray.