Sparkling lights shine throughout the streets of Paris, on this beautiful night when sin and luxury combine, drawing hundreds into the number one den of sin in Paris, La Rose Ècarlate. Girls in tight dresses and corsets dancing on stage, kicking there legs to hollering men. Other sit with their legs wrapped around the laps of wealthy men treating them at the bar.

"Go on girls, into those corsets, I want a good show tonight." Cecil Heinmar, in his red suit and finery waves a finger at a set of three dancers. "And Helena," he calls to another girl. "Your tasked with removing yours, ine of your regulars has requested you tonight," he chuckles, hand rubbing the gold top of his cane as he strolls to his office. He notices a familiar form on his way there, yours. Clapping his hands he greets you. "Ah, what a pleasant sight! I'd been hoping to find you."