The Other Prologue

Rubbing her temples, Agent Scarlet exhales, cursing whoever chose this mystery bald man logo as default that has been posted on her desk since last year. Wait, maybe he's just bald because she thought of it bald, right?

Enough about that, because she knows she should be concentrating and taking things more seriously now that she holds the important information that her agency needs the most.

Clicking her tongue, she rereads the ones she typed in her report document log. It's a lot of pressure—filling in the blank biography of each member of the seven deadly sins who have hidden themselves under the corporate name of Exodus.

Who would've guessed that the large enterprise is a member of the syndicate, not only that, but a powerful mafia gang leading today's generation? Underneath all their elegance, decency and decorum lie a dark and dirty organization having such ruthless behavioral codes.

The whole business industry seems to have been wrapped around their fingers; their charms and pretend courteousness taking everyone's trust in a wink.

It's been all fake pretense for them; soft on the outside but feral on the inside.

How does she know these matters?

Unfortunately, as one of the top five leading female spies in the continent, Agent Scarlet is tasked to expose the names of the unknown gang who's been said to be holding up the power in some parts of Italy's underground organizations.

It's been a mystery for years already, no spy ever getting close to unraveling even just one real name of the seven deadly sins. It's not like nobody tried, it's just . . . they ended up dying—no trace of any spy survivors to tell the tale.

And this time, she's been given the chance to do so. Undercover as a secretary, Scarlet originally sets to follow a Marco Reeve, who's said to be having odd trades with the seven deadly sins themselves. But as she stays longer in the company, she finds out that he's not trading with the gang; he is one of the members of the gang.

One by one, she inputs everything she knows about them, filling up details that can be useful. She's halfway through her written report, actual photos she's stolen from Exodus attached too . . . however, something just doesn't feel right.

Clicking her tongue, she reaches for a tiny black beeper-like device—something the agency has given so all spies can exclusively contact one another from time to time without having difficulties and without being tracked by hackers.

And instantly, she calls a trusted friend.

"Mikas—"

"Agent S, you can't," he huffs, catching his breath, "—just call me in the middle of the night!" He sounds like he's running and then she hears loud gun shots in the background, making her wince.

"Fuck," he curses and again, she hears another set of gun shots, louder this time. He's probably the one firing it right now.

When the noise dissipates, he heaves a sigh of relief before barking at her through the call, "And for the last damn time, stop using real names. You'll get us into trouble again."

"Fine!" she snorts, rolling her eyes at his demanding tone. "Onyx," she calls out the hue name he goes by. "If I submit these identities that I've tracked down. . ." she trails off, unsure if she should ask or just decide on her own.

"Scarlet, the moment the boss receives your report, you'll go back to the headquarters," he fills in the blanks dismissively. "That's the end of your mission."

"And let you guys be the one to shut down their organization?" she spits bitterly.

"S, that's what the top five agents are for," he reminds strictly before exhaling, "Just pass it on and let us handle the R-missions."

His statement ticks her off further. She hates the rankings and the petty rules. "Oh, piss off. You know I fight way better than Four!"

Groaning inwardly, Mikas, who's also the humble top one, says, "I know. But the ranking determines our missions. And she ranked up after two consecutive S-missions. So you gotta suck it up and just do what you're told to. Go home. The boss wants you safe."

Scarlet has had it with them baby-ing her. With a growl, she hurls back, "How will I rank up from being seven if you keep making me retreat every—?!"

"S, just fucking listen! Tracking the Seven Sins is already a dangerous mission for you. It's a miracle that you still haven't been caught and you're—"

Annoyed and not in the mood to hear his lectures, she hangs up on him mid-sentence, turning off and throwing the small beeper with a curse.

Clicking her tongue, she stares at the diagram she made about the gang she's assigned to track down. Surely, this is something worth reporting but it just isn't enough of a report to get her rank be included in the top five.

***

She bites on her fingernails, contemplating what to do. Either she sends it to the boss and receives a congratulatory order of coming back to the headquarters but settling with a rank up of six or . . . not send it and just keep all info to herself, continue spying until she discovers more important identities so she could send a bigger scale of tracked down organization and have herself take the fourth rank?

Heaving a sigh, her pride wouldn't let her take the easy way out so she chooses the latter, making her cancel the sending of her report.

She puts aside her computer and lay back to her pillows instead.

Tomorrow, she chants, promising herself that she'll try to pick up more pieces. She knows there are these little traces and clues. And they're all leading to something. They should be.

***

Wednesday

@Hebrew's Peak

This whole neighborhood has been secretly bought by Thesaurus and she's had it all figured out since day one, her mission being filled with traps. No wonder all previous spies failed; Exodus has been highly cautious and wise about having full security in their territory which means no employee can walk in and out of the neighborhood so easily.

It's mandatory that whoever applies in the company will live in a luxury condominium which most people thought was a privilege, only to realize that once they enter the compound, nobody gets to leave—either they work for them forever or die with the information they've collected during their stay.

Scarlet's designated place might look cozy but she's not letting it be her graveyard.

Preparing herself to go to work, she looks at her reflection. Another day of pretension has been the norm. The life of a secret agent has always been this way, her identity thrown off and replaced by a new one fitting her mission. And now, she's this trustworthy secretary who meekly bows down to everything your bosses say.

A smile flashes across her face, your eyes burning with passion. She wants to prove herself, aiming to be one of the top spies in the CIA has always been her goal and she won't let this chance pass by.

Her dark locks hang in waves, her face brushed with makeup and blush, her lips painted red like how most men like—her bosses being most men. Along her curvy body is a buttoned sleeves paired with the tightest pencil skirt that reaches her lower thigh, clutching her body in a way that's feminine but alluring.

Not wasting time, she fixes her hair into a tight bun like usual and reach for her round eyeglass which happen to have video recording lenses. She also takes a small voice recorder and pin it on her bra.

Thereafter, she slips her simple black heels and she takes off, heading to the main building like the good employee she portrays.

***

Scarlet walks into their office, all eyes darting to her as she saunters towards Dylan Worth's desk. "Mr. Worth, the alcohol trade you offered Lee Enterprises just got cancelled," she informs but there are no replies, only poisonous silence as their gazes drink her in.

Now she's suddenly conscious, eyes dropping to the ground at the unwanted attention. "Uhm, sir. What do we do—?"

"Kill them," Chet Hugo orders from behind.

There he is again with his reckless commands. Scarlet turns to him and nods courteously. It's always been their way of showing power and she's grown accustomed to it, still hating the fact that many innocent people might get involved.

"Send men to assassinate the whole family," Dylan adds, her diligently taking note of what they say despite everything running inside her mind.

Suddenly, Xavier Bram goes to her, eyes piercing right through her in a mysterious way she can't unravel as he drinks up his liquor. "Ms. Secretary," he subtly whispers, making her look at him in return.

"I never knew you had pretty eyes," he says, "Too bad we can't see them well because of your glasses."

Shit. Did he realize it's a recording cam? Her lips purse tightly for a moment but she knows she has to play it cool so she calmly offers, "My apologies, sir. Do you want me to take it off?"

Matteo Vernon smirks at her reply and Xavier just nods, pleased with her response.

"Please do."

With his signal, she removes it quietly and brazenly meets his gaze. "Anything else I can do for you, sir?"

Without warning, Xavier reaches to untie her hair, letting it fall down to her shoulders as he assesses her.

She doesn't have any idea what they're up to but she stays still like a doll being played with. She's trained to be like that anyway.

A little later and Xavier brazenly undoes a button of her top, a portion of her cleavage on display for them while she gives her damnedest to remain stoic, wishing that he didn't notice the little voice recording pinned on her bra.

Seemingly pleased with how unabashed she is, Xavier steps back with a smile. "Perfect," he remarks, "That's the look the mother of my child should have!"

Scarlet's eyes can't help but widen at his crazy statement. "P-pardon?" she stutters, earning chuckles from them.

"Ms. Secretary," the playful Matteo calls her attention, "What do you think about having kids?"

"Kids?" with a raised eyebrow, Nikolai Grant stresses out the 's', making Matteo shrug.

"She's hot. She can pull off the plurals, and you know we wouldn't mind."

Rolling his eyes, Dylan shifts his gaze to her, waiting for her answer so she gives him one, "Well, maybe someday in the future, sir."

What the heck are they up to this time?

Marco Reeve's lips curve upwards. "How about someday this weekend? I'm sure Ulysses would like that. He's had his eyes on you ever since you stepped into our office," he teases but halts when a flying iPhone hits his arm.

Everyone looks at where it came from and it's a rare sight to see Ulysses Yates blushing that she's somehow more confused with what they mean.

Matteo joins the fun. "Stop acting like you don't fantasize about her, Marco." And with that, the youngest shuts it while Scarlet silently takes note of the possibilities.

There's a moment of silence, all seven of them exchanging glances and that's when Nikolai grabs the opportunity. In a trice, he walks to her, tilting her chin to face him. "Ms. Secretary, I think you have just been promoted."

She blinks at him repeatedly, face voided of any emotion, knowing that the only promotion she wants is to be able to kick their asses when she ranks up and takes on the R-mission. "Promoted to what, sir?"

"To be the sins' wife," he whispers softly in her ear, a thick lump suddenly forming in her throat at the sudden proposal.

Clicking his tongue, Chet butts in, "Stop romanticizing things for her. Cut the crap and offer the real deal."

The three youngest make faces at the party-pooper businessman, while Nikolai just chuckles lightly. "Fine." He pushes her stray hair on the back of her ear, asking, "Will you let the seven of us fuck a baby into you, beautiful?"

When her eyes only roam the room to see if they're being serious, Xavier's tinkling bell laugh emerges. "So, what do you think, Ms. Secretary?"

Without second thoughts, she runs her mouth smoothly, "Well, to be honest . . . none of you are my type." A simple smile is what she displays to all seven of them as if she's hinting how genuine she is.

Batting her lashes repeatedly, a venomous short silence hovers thick in the air before she shrugs and smiles again. "But then again, it's not like I have any say in this. I'm sure you'll kill me if I said 'no,' and I can't afford to die just yet . . . so, yeah. I'm free this Saturday, sir."

Marco is the first one to stifle a laugh, Ulysses following after; the two of them exchanging grins with how funny the look of surprise on the others' faces are.

Vexed, Marco just snorts, Nikolai a little taken aback, but is now looking amazed with her blunt statement.

"She seems to know a little too much about us," Xavier coos, his fingers gripping her jaw gently, contrasting the annoyance in his tone. "Either we really make her our wife or kill her."

Fearless yet composed, she raises a daring question, "Why make me your wife though? You can always just kill me like how any of you pleases and no one would bat an eye for losing another measly secretary."

She desperately wants them to admit it. It'll be great evidence if they will. They have to or the tiny recording gadget on her chest would go to waste.

"The accusation is so strong here, Ms. Secretary." Xavier backs away with sarcasm, and Ulysses adds his own statement, "We never kill our own employees."

"In fact, I've never killed anyone before," Nikolai raises humorously and they all laugh.

Scarlet's jaws clench for a few seconds but she smiles, determined to not let them see through her.

Suddenly, Dylan's velvety voice interrupts, "Besides, three people here already had their interests in you—which rarely happens." He gets on his feet, making his way towards her. "We, the four others, don't really mind. So why not just give it a try?"

"Plus, you seem smart." Taehyung grins.

She side-glances him and says, "Oh, I apologize if I only look smart, sir."

Hissing, Marco comments, "She's a sucker for flatteries. Xav and she would get along just fine."

"Well, I hope she's a great sucker of cocks too." Dylan notions with a sly smirk. Then he looks at her through hooded eyes, questioning, "So, what do you say Ms. Secretary? We don't wanna sound pushy, but will you let us breed you or do you just prefer to die?"

Scarlet replies with an innocent eye smile, showing them that she's not one bit scared of their threat.

Before she can even make a sound, Matteo concludes, "I'm sure the godfather would go crazy if he sees her pretty face getting smeared with the sins' cum." He chuckles lowly, eyes already undressing her.

"Our jizz should stay inside her pussy, Marco. Keep your eyes on the goal," again, Chet contradicts, earning guffaws from the others but her sweet voice cuts through.

"Will the godfather be there to watch?" She had to ask, their eyebrows raising at another of her brazen questions.

Dylan can't believe what he just heard. His lips form a tiny smile. "Wow, am I sensing another exhibitionist in this room?"

She sees the youngest step towards her but she stays put, face as relaxed as usual. Then he queries, dying with curiosity, "Ms. Secretary, do you get off knowing that someone watches you get fucked?"

Her lips curl upwards, earning soft groans of arousal from the others.

No, I don't have such petty kinks, she thinks.

But no one has ever seen the godfather, and if agreeing to this fucked up pornography set up might give her the chance to be the first one in the agency who could, it'll be another S-mission for her. And that's all that matters, it'd be like hitting two birds in one stone.

Laid back, she doesn't even try to be sexy, retaining the mystery of what type of woman she is for them. "I'm your secretary, sir. I'd be a slut if you asked me to," she softly answers, "I'd be whatever you like me to be."

"What a sweet submissive wife," Nikolai hoots, cackling softly. "I can't wait to put on a show. We'll take turns and definitely fuck you full of cum."

Then Xavier reaches his hand to her and the instant she takes it, he pulls her towards him and plants his lips on hers. No gentleness, no mercy. He bites on her lips, nibbling on it aggressively before he sneaks his tongue inside her mouth and twirls it around, eliciting a subtle moan from her.

He then pulls away with a smirk. "I hope you know what 'slut' means, Ms. Secretary."

Her hand modestly wiping the smudged lipstick on the corners of her mouth, she smiles at that thought, giggling as she decides to play their game. The politeness never leaving her tone, she answers, "I hope I can live up to your expectations, sir."

A lazy smile plasters Xavier's lips as he backs away. "I hope so too," he taunts, leaving the room and the others follow.

Teasing, Marco shakes his head as he clicks his tongue repeatedly. "Wrong move right there, wifey. You shouldn't have said that we're not your type." He chuckles a little and continues, "Now we won't stop until we become the men you crave for. That's the only way we get back the ego you stepped on."

Hands on his pocket, Ulysses mutters, "Seven insane men. You better brace yourself, beautiful." He winks at her before exiting the office last.

On her own at last, Agent Scarlet rolls her eyes, hissing. What could possibly go wrong? They're men. Men are always so easy to play with.