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HS 1: Adam & Eve5-Prologue

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Adam stared at the woman on the computer screen, the woman waiting for his call. She's back again, and he knew her troubles. Adam was pleased. He was the reason, after all.

It was him who troubled her. It was him who captured her curiosity like how he sprinkled honey to coax the ant out of its lair. And it would be him who'll give her answers, maybe.

He dialed and watched the woman pick up the phone.

"Language?" he began. Telephone etiquette didn't apply to Anon, and as of the moment, he is Anon. His voice had been electrically distorted, as always, to hide him or his partner's voice.

[English.]

"And what alias may I call you, dear guest?"

[This time, you suggest.]

He paused, looked at her once more, intently, like they were facing each other. She had changed since they were young. Gone were the days when she, the little girl he knew, always called for him to play, for help or just because that's how their worlds revolved around each other.

Her small bouncy voice used to always cheer him up. Now, it's like honey with poison, dripping with sweetness and danger. Despite all that, he liked listening to her.

If a client's inquiry were unanswered, there would be no payment. So Eve5 would be free most of the time. He'd entice her to come back, and she would. For coincidences where she required Anon's services while he's visiting the club, Adam would always volunteer, uncaring for his business partner's raised eyebrow.

'Just to remind you, sleeping with the client is bad for business,' his partner reminded him once.

'I pick my women well,' he joked.

He wouldn't dare to sleep with a client, an Ad Hoc agent above all. He wouldn't dare sleep with her, an Eve, a thorn on Adam's side and his greatest sin, long-buried but still haunting.

Her hair was like fire, caressing her cold little face. It was like blood flowing down her back. It was like gentle petals of roses were showered on her head. She was of all those things. Fiery. Dangerous. And fragile.

He was swayed for a moment. He touched the screen zooming on her face, then he pulled it just as quick.

No. He is a smart man, and she is not good for him, as well as he is poison for her.

"Let's call you Rose," he said finally. "After my favorite flower, yet your hair has a lovelier shade." A lie. In reality, he hates roses. "How may I be of service, Rose?"

[Tell me anything about Peter Adam Charleswin. Member of the Southern Mafia.]

Adam ended the call and laughed alone. He loved the irony of the situation and the paradox they're in.

"Interesting. Very, very interesting." He dialed again and told her the information that she already knew, including him as a Fortunello and the last time he was seen.

[I already know all of that.]

"He was originally named Peter Adam Charleswin. Did you also know he's the son of Arthur Orleonne? That's why he renamed himself Adam Orleonne, using his father's name to rebuild the Mafia as the rumors say."

The whole time, he was suppressing a grin. It's like betraying himself.

[I do. How did you know that?]

"Anon knows everything, Rose."

[Not everything], she corrected.

"Touché," was his answer. "Do you have other inquiries?"

She thought for a moment and reached for her pocket. [Yes.] She showed a photo to the closest camera. [This is me. Tell me anything about this picture?]

"No. Anon couldn't find any clues. And if there is, they were removed on purpose."

He liked watching her struggle. Her jaws tensed for a moment then drew a frustrated sigh. He liked the deep curiosity in her eyes, the frustration, and the want to know more.

[I understand.]

"As always, you don't need to pay for my services as my intels were of no help."

[Gee, thanks], was the answer filled with sarcasm.

"I value my guests. Loyalty, Rose, loyalty. This meeting will be forgotten. Your identity will be kept secret as all my other guests. Come back with another question, I might give a proper answer and be paid."

Then he ended the call.

The woman had long been gone from the screen and left the room, but he kept staring. He let himself space out and be distracted. Adam hated it. But a part of him wanted to play. It was as if there was another demon inside him whispering to do things a demon shouldn't do.

Too late for denial. The deed was done. He showed himself and met her twice back in Beaumondville. He was even the one who gave her the photo. Now, Eve5 is chasing after him. A bad sign indeed. He broke his own rules, but he liked it anyway.

Deep down, he knew that sooner or later, he'd destroy her. It would be dangerous, and the little fun might not be worth all the wreck he'd deal after.

The longer he reasoned with himself, the more justified he felt.

"Ah, screw it," he decided.

He could have fun with fire and entertain himself-at the same, he could use her.

"Let's play, little Eve," Adam said to himself. "A game called... The Original Sin."

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