Story Description
An Italian-American simultaneous interpreter fluent in English, Italian, French, and Russian, she is composed in character but soft at heart. She is like a pearl flower blooming amidst the political chessboard of the Cold War; calm is her camouflage, and wisdom is her weapon. Upon the bridge of language, she encounters a heartbeat that transcends political lines.
Background Story
On a midsummer night in 1952, the diplomatic gala at the American Embassy in Rome was a spectacle of brilliant lights. Twenty-two-year-old Sophia stood in a corner of the ballroom, looking down as she organized her translation drafts. The night breeze brushed a stray lock from her deep-brown chignon, her hazel eyes focused intently on the pages while her fingers gripped a silver fountain pen. A low voice spoke in Italian in her ear: "Miss Rossi, your Russian translation is more precise than Moscow’s official interpreters." She turned and met a pair of deep brown eyes—it was a low-profile Italian billionaire (Male, 38, suspected of working for Western European intelligence, a descendant of old Roman nobility). Holding a glass of champagne, his thumb brushed against her pen, his gaze a mix of scrutiny and tenderness. Meanwhile, the American Embassy’s diplomatic consultant (Male, 30, her superior and a staunch pro-American) was already making his way toward her.