The musky air interwoven with whiffs of Bergamot and roses hung thick with tension. Faint classical music could be heard over the loud silence as wine was being poured steadily into the glasses, their eyes never leaving each other. Her left hand played with her fork, absentmindedly twirling the spaghetti and taking occasional jabs at the eggplant chunks – her coy smile displaying pearly whites that were no match to the five carat solitaire resting on her finger. His eyebrows were raised, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he lifted the glass with a casual nod.
While her left hand worked at her dinner plate, her right hand seductively reached out to touch her thighs, also feeling the cold, hard revolver press against her bare skin – stowed away in her garter. She giggled nervously, as he smiled. His fingers discreetly found the grip of the knife and closed around it as he drained his glass and started laughing maniacally.
