“I hope that was nothing important,” she asked, her playful tone undercut by an edge of concern.

“It’s nothing,” I replied, before continuing. “Jade, where is she? You clearly know something.”

A smirk danced across her lips, an enigmatic glimmer in her eyes. “Perhaps I do. Perhaps I don’t,” Eva teased, her demeanor a delicate balance of mischief and mystery.

I could feel my patience wearing thin. “Enough of the teasing, Eva! Where is she?” My frustration laced my words.

Yet, as if sensing the urgency in my tone, her expression shifted to one of seriousness, the playful banter evaporating like smoke in the air. “Jade and her daughter are in Pacifica. You should be able to find them at the market near the abandoned amusement park,” she said, her voice now grave and composed.

Even with the information laid bare before me, a nagging discomfort settled in my chest. It was impossible to believe that anyone in Night City would give away details without expecting something in return. “What do you want in return?” I asked, bracing for her inevitable request.

Eva’s smile broadened, and she reached into her ornate cigarette case, deftly pulling out a sleek cigarette. The metallic surface caught the dull light, glinting as she held it with an almost practiced elegance.

“I need you to do me a favor; it will involve the Voodoo Boys,” she stated, her nonchalance doing little to calm my growing unease.

I let out a bitter laugh, a mix of disbelief and doubt escaping my lips. “No chance. Those guys will kill me at first glance; the only folks who can approach the Voodoo Boys are the ones born and raised in Pacifica. Besides, you already told me where to find Jade.” My words hung in the air, thick with apprehension.

As I began to rise from my chair, ready to dismiss her whims, Eva placed her right hand on mine, her touch unexpectedly warm and grounding. “It’s my sister,” she confessed, the gravity of her words shifting the atmosphere completely.

I sank back into my seat.

“What about her?” I asked.

“Remember, she’s the good twin. She’s doing charity work there because of the storm, but I’m worried—there’s something going down in Pacifica... I want her to be safe,” Eva explained, her voice laced with desperation.

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I contemplated her request carefully; after all, she did drug me, but say what you want: I had a soft spot for helping out people. “And if I agree to help you, will you do something for me in return?” I asked.

“Well, that depends Max. What do you need?” She probed, her fascination evident as she leaned forward, her eyes locking onto mine with unexpected intensity.

“I need you to run a background check on two individuals,” I replied, my purpose clear.

Her brow furrowed slightly in curiosity as she leaned even closer. “Who are these two people?”

“The first is Michael Graves, the leader of some black-ops unit called Blackhearts. The second is this man here; I pulled out a photo of Rodrigo Monteiro on my phone.

Eva looked at the photo as she exhaled a plume of smoke.

“Who’s he?” She asked, genuine curiosity sparking in her eyes.

“According to the NCPD, he’s making moves in NC; not only that, but he’s also recently reopened the case about his wife, and I want to know why.” I answered, my voice low but firm.

Eva leaned back against the wall, a sly smirk dancing across her lips, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh... Worried that your past is coming back to haunt you?” she teased, her tone dripping with intrigue.

I played dumb, “I don't know what you're talking about,” I replied, forcing a casual tone into my voice. After a moment of silence, Eva took one last deep drag of her cigarette before crushing it out in an ashtray, the embers fading into the darkness. “Deal,” she said, her voice firm and decisive. She extended her right hand, palm upward, ready to solidify our agreement with a handshake.

Our hands met, sealing our pact with a firm grip, but as we broke the contact, she leaned in closer, lifting my hand gently to her lips. She pressed a soft kiss against my knuckles, leaving a mark of lipstick, a surprising intimacy that sent a shiver down my spine.

“A token of our deal,” she whispered, her voice smooth and sultry as she sat up and gracefully walked away, her silhouette merging into the room's shadows, leaving me alone with the weight of the perilous path I had just agreed to tread.

I pushed myself up from the chair, the chair creaking softly beneath me, and made my way back toward Henry, who lounged at the bar, nursing a tall glass of crystal-clear water. He leaned effortlessly against the polished countertop; a playful grin was on his face as he watched the subtle chaos unfold between us.

“See, she never drugged you again,” Henry teased.

I couldn't suppress a wry smile, a mixture of irritation and amusement bubbling to the surface. “Very funny,” I shot back, my voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Come on, we’re heading to Pacifica,” I declared, the weight of urgency in my words.

Henry's expression shifted sharply, the playful glint in his eyes giving way to genuine confusion. His brows furrowed deeply, creating a line of concern across his forehead. “Whoa, hang on a second—why? You know they don’t allow outsiders. Christ, we’ll be lucky if we last even a minute in that district,” he countered, the hint of anxiety creeping into his voice.

“I’ll explain in the car,” I insisted, the resolve in my tone brooking no argument.