Christoph Richter did not stay to witness the aftermath of Sophia’s performance.
The moment she pulled away from the guy and flashed that wicked little smile, the moment her middle finger lifted like a flag of war, Christoph’s jaw tightened, he set down his drink with clinical precision, and he walked out of the balcony as if the entire club had ceased to exist.
Sophia watched him leave.
And for five whole seconds, she felt untouchable.
Powerful.
Glorious.
A goddess fueled by tequila and spite.
Dominic, however, ruined it quickly by gripping her elbow. “Okay, Supreme Leader of Chaos, I think you are drunk.”
Sophia blinked. “No, I am floating.”
“That is not better,” Mae added, steadying her other arm. “You are wobbly. And you have the emotional stability of a paperclip.”
“My stabi
