A/N: this is a mature-themed story, involving characters Wesker, Krauser, and Ada.

The plot and action in later chapters.

Renaissance Man.
"I like power and I like to use it."

Wesker sat back, his dark sunglasses always hid the expressive rectitude in his eyes, but when he took them off – one might find something quite revealing. His once light sky-blues were replaced with the predatory zeal of cat's eyes, and anyone outside of his confidence would find them disturbing.

He was currently working with Ada, his little gopher, and what he thought was a skilled woman at nearly everything. She proved her loyalty to him in every way. She had done many missions for him and never failed to impress him – Ada had come back giving more to the mission than what was originally needed.

Leaning back against his black lounge chair, he released a heavy sigh and crossed his long fine masculine fingers together. Behind the sunglasses, the eyes smoldered with uncontrolled desire when he thought of how he had almost achieved the goals he has worked so hard towards. He was getting there – Ada would provide the inside tips as well as that former lackey he recruited: Jack Krauser.

The American soldier was indebted to Wesker, in that he had obtained more than what he bargained for when he became 'revived', now possessing a powerful mutative arm. Krauser has the ability to mutate one of his arms into a claw by the simple truth of Wesker's intervention. The same virus injected now swimming in Wesker's blood.

Ada was along the same curved road; Wesker intercepted, placing in his files – "Her love for him drove her to her death."

Leon. Always Leon. Even six years didn't make her forget. That man was in her blood. He didn't think for a minute that she would go through with eliminating Kennedy. It was so obvious when he had spoken to her then; he had asked her if she had taken care of the extra complication. She hadn't. Wesker decided beforehand to use Kennedy for their means; she would most assuredly agree to that, he had no doubt. If anything, knowing Ada was as simple as knowing himself. The woman just didn't realize it yet.

But he was as autognosis as any genius with common logic. Wesker believed that the most autarchist of them all would possess a balance of the two: Intellect and sense. Wisdom to know when to keep going, and when to stop. And sagacity to understand your enemies. He didn't have many friends, but then again, what did that matter to him?

He swiveled his chair around, facing the wide screen console. Reaching for a lighted small panel, he pressed it softly. This allowed the former black screen to beep - fused a light, and replaced it with a landscape to the front gates of his well secured building. It was Ada.

She sat on a red and white convertible, matching her attire; her sunglasses atop her head, she slightly raised her head to look right straight into the camera. "Wesker. Aren't you going to let me in?"

"Where is your key?" Wesker languidly replied, curious.

"Lost. I don't know. If I had it traced, I'd have known." She simply shrugged one shoulder inelegantly, and as she parted her lips, she inhaled as if frustrated, exhaling out harder, blowing air upwards to the raven strands that fell along her forehead. She tapped on the steering wheel with forced patience, allowing Wesker to see her lean fingers, only to glide his eyes along the length of her bare arms now lightly bronzed from the summer sun.

He didn't say anything and pressed the button to allow the gates to open up. She took one more glance at the camera, then pressed the gas to go forward.

When she got inside the building, there were numerous passwords to go through – the signature of her hand placed on the heat of the lighted pad announced her identity. Doors slid open to allow her in.

As she approached Wesker in the darkness of his elegant office, her high heeled stilettos made loud noises. His back was turned to her, but he swiveled the chair around to face her as soon as she was but a few feet from him.

"I see you've been achieving quite a bit of a tan on you."

Ada Wong slightly smiled at his comment and as always, she knew you could never get a direct compliment from Wesker, but that didn't matter.

"So where's the sample?"

Retrieving what was concealed in her secret hiding place; the sample was enclosed around her hip area. She had pushed aside her dress, taking out the blue liquid held in by a crystal tube.

With deliberate arrogance, she held it out to him. "Right here. Did you think I wouldn't have succeeded?"

Slightly stretching out his arms in a detached gesticulation of - maybe, he dispassionately remarked that he didn't for one minute think that she couldn't do it. After all, he was her surreptitious weapon. He didn't think that Jack Krauser would get far – too hot headed, and too full of himself. There was only room for one ego to wave around. Not that he wasn't aware of Ada's obvious deception when it came to Leon – any fool could see she couldn't kill the one person who she died for, or would die for again.

He wasn't worried in the least bit.

"Come here." He said silkily.

Startled, she paused for a moment, then took a few more steps. For whatever she had done in her past, for whatever happened to her, she belonged to Wesker. She owed him her life.

He touched her fingers as she handed over the sample. In the semi-darkness of the office, the screen that showed the outside of his building suddenly went out – a regulatory method of keeping one's computer monitor in check.

In the swathe of darkness, they merged in heated silence. Her face above his, she was so close – so close that he could hear her panting and as she breathed harshly, her hands moved of their own accord and placed them inside his dark suit. Pushing them aside, he shook out of them; the sound of expensive silk blended with the hushed noise around them; their heated breaths mingled in the aviance of their illicit partnership.

Knowing what would come next, Ada swallowed with anticipation, her eyes slightly closed. She didn't even like Wesker. Not really. But she couldn't quit him either. He had planted a drug, a virus in her many years ago – to keep her alive, to keep her bonded to him. She was ultimately possessed body and soul.

But her mind would never be his. And her restless heart……belonged to Leon.

His hands had slowly gone up to hold her small waist, pushing up the dress. Ada helped him release the material that barred their skins from touching. The contact of his fingers on her breasts made her gasp, but more so as his lips touched where his hands had gone.

" Ada….." Wesker quietly groaned. "You've been a very bad girl. Losing that key...that's not like you."

The Renaissance man knew everything. Ada had given Leon a key to the Jet Ski on the mission, allowing that Government Agent to escape with the President's daughter. What other keys had Ada given?

"No…." She gasped again; her head was thrown back as he pulled her lower body close to his – his hand squeezed her waist, now the masculine lean fingers glided to the firm round ass he was so familiar with.

"No?" He growled softly, and in his predatory way - crashed his lips to hers; their hot tongues played with unsuppressed need, and she was seductively moving her partially nude body against his.

Ada had moved gracefully and wantonly in the darkness of his office, emitting soft cries of want and need; as if she couldn't get enough of his ministrations. He was a genius in every way, but as Wesker pushed her down to him, her heat encasing him – he was owned.