The lights on stage flashed to life, illuminating the dressed up blue curtains and the shiny floor situated around the cardiod microphone. Fingers with painted red nails slid around the metal and drew it forth to a pair of ruby red lips.

The music had started playing, and the womans lips parted, "Summertime," she sang, "and the livin' is easy."

The audience listened intently, Porgy and Bess hadn't been performed the city in quite a while, so it was a treat.

The singers name was Ada Wong, and the most unusual thing about her was that she was Asian. Not many Asians came through Racoon City, much less that spoke fluent English, but she did. And she was a beauty, maybe one of the most beautiful women in the entire city.

Her place in The 27 Club was well founded.

Her neck length black hair was graced with a beaded flapper hat of red with black sequins, a matching china doll gown dressed her body, made of red silk with a sequined bodice, splits up the sides, showing her long legs and a hint of black garter belt, black hose, down to black open toed heels. As the song picked up, so did her movements, fluid and matching the song in a sultry kind of way, bringing a warmth to the inside of the popular nightclub that wasn't felt outside of it during this time of year.

"One of these mornings, you're gonna rise up singin'," she sang, "then you'll spread your wings, and you'll take to the sky."

As the rest of the audience watched, a booth that was always reserved for the VIP's of the nightclub was filled with a few men, one of which was eyeing the singer with more than just casual glances. She was bringing in a lot of money, and she was also the perfect accessory for him to show off when he needed to.

But that was it, nothing more than an accessory.

He made good use of her.

As the song finally ended, the lights went down into a darkened void, bringing about the climax, and Ada lowered her head and she backed off stage into the darkness awaiting her while the audience cheered in her wake.

It was just another night for Ada. She headed back to the dressing room to take another one of her breaks in between numbers.

In the dressing room, mirrors lit with big round bulb lights graced one wall, and the girls were all putting on their makeup and pulling outfits over their brassière's, and some of them told Ada how well she'd done singing.

As the music started from the stage, some of the girls gasped and they all ran off to go do their dance number, this flashy garments glinting the light as they moved away. Ada just leaned on the dresser she was sitting at and lit a cigarette, enjoying the peace and quiet for the moment. She examined her nails, just waiting for her next song to be sung. She'd have to change her outfit again as well, but she had time for a cigarette in between.

Staring down at her dressing room table, she felt a pair of gloved hands moving across her shoulders and to her throat. She knew who it was. "You're not supposed to be back here," she said in a slightly playful tone.

"It's my nightclub," replied the mans deep, smooth voice, "I'll go where ever I please."

Ada gave a lascivious smirk and she stamped out her cigarette, then she looked up at the man in the mirror, all black, pinstripe suit, shades on his eyes as had become his reputation to wear, and slicked back blonde hair. "Then to what do I owe your visit, Albert Wesker? Shouldn't you be out schmoozing some people, trying to get more patrons?"

Wesker chuckled lowly, rubbing his thumbs against her jaw on both sides, "Perhaps I wanted to come see my favorite performer before I lost the chance to. This is your longest break of the night after all."

Ada smiled and she took the perfume bottle, let him remove his hands before she held it up in one hand and pumped the ball with the other. Then she set it back down and stood up, turned around to face him, "You never come to see me just because," she told him in a low voice, "so what do you want?"

"Two things," he replied pointedly, wasting no time in doing so. Ada wasn't surprised. "One, there's a man here tonight in the crowd. He's from out of town."

"So?"

"He belongs to a mob not related to mine, and I'm not sure why he's here."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Nothing yet, but if you happen to meet up with him," Wesker said, reaching out to rub the back of his fingers across her chin, "I want you to exude some of that charisma you're so well known for and get him to talk to you. It's my best bet of finding out why he's here."

Ada smiled, then she reached up to his hand, "If," she enunciated, "that happens, you know I'll be more than happy to get him to talk to me." Something in her tone, however, said she wasn't exactly enthusiastic about it.

"Good girl," Wesker stepped forward, "I'll show my appreciation later tonight in the hotel room."

He was getting closer to her face with his own, and she stopped him by asking, "What's the other reason you came here?"

"This," he said before he pulled her up against him and kissed her hard, swirling his tongue around in her mouth dominantly.

Ada closed her eyes and she leaned into his strong frame, wrapping her arms around his sides. The kiss was intense and returned in kind, sauce for the goose.

She still tasted as sweet as she looked, Wesker thought for a moment, but looks were definitely deceiving.

Finally, the kiss broke slowly, and Ada had a bemused expression on her face. It gave Wesker a surge of arrogant pride, and he pulled back from her, let her stand on her own. The movement caused her to stumble, and she grumbled over it. It was a movement designed to remind her that he could, both literally and figuratively, let go of her at any moment.

"Don't forget what I said, Angel," he called her from time to time, walking toward the door as he was done for now, "I'll see you when the show is done."

Ada rolled her eyes when he left the room and she walked back to the mirror. Then she saw her lipstick and she grumbled once again because it was smeared, so she grabbed some more and started putting it on. "Dirtbag," she muttered to herself.

But, she qualified, at least this time, he hadn't strangled her until she'd told him she would do as he'd said, unlike the one time she'd gotten herself in trouble back when she'd barely known him. Even still, he'd always been, well, cold and remorseless.

Except when they were in bed. The man definitely knew how to heat things up quickly.

Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment, Ada thought, but she also knew that there were a ton of other women who'd kill to be in the position she was.

Because of Wesker, Ada was at the top of the line in the city as far as everyone else was concerned. She was his right hand, and she would be damned if she let anyone come between her and that. From the venue she had, she could see the whole city, and no one could look down on her. It was a far cry from the life of poverty she'd led growing up in California as the child of a couple of "chinks" as they called them out there, and everywhere else too as far as that mattered.

So no, Ada wasn't about to give up her life of luxury just because the man who'd really gotten her there was a cold-hearted asshole. He kept her well enough, and there was no way she was about to complain.

Not for anything in the world.