The evening was serene, a perfect quiet punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages as she sat on the plush sofa of her penthouse. She was a picture of elegance, the delicate curve of her legs tucked beneath her as she savored a glass of deep red wine. Her eyes flickered over the pages of the book, but her mind was far from it, lost in the gentle hum of the city below.

The room around her reflected her refined taste, the modern art adorning the walls, the soft light from the chandelier casting a warm glow. Everything was perfect. The only sound, apart from the faint murmur of the city, was the soft click of the wine glass as she placed it down on the table.

Then came the slight creak of the door, the soft step of someone entering. She didn't need to look up to know who it was. He was looking for something - something he thought he wanted. She heard the familiar note of desire in his voice as he made his request, but she wasn't impressed.

She set the book aside, glass cradled delicately in her hand as she finally looked up, her eyes meeting his. Her lips curled into a knowing smile, but she didn't rush to answer. She let the silence stretch out, her gaze lingering on him.

"Huh?" she asked, her voice soft but dripping with sarcasm. She leaned back slightly, her smile never fading. "Dites-le en français."

Her words were playful, yet he recognized the challenge in her gaze. She did it to test him, to see how much he really wanted what he had asked for. It wasn't just about luxury - it was about effort, about refinement. She was offering him a glimpse of something, but only if he proved himself worthy.