Page 26 of Roberto

Han smirked. “Because brothels are illegal in both Macau and Hong Kong.”

“Oh. No, I’m good, thank you.”

He frowned. “Are you into men?”

“No,” I snapped.

“Drugs?”

“No!”

“Then there’s nothing left.” He caught himself as though remembering something. “Well… except for De Sade.”

duh SAHD.

I froze.

The name was most likely a nod to the Marquis de Sade, a dissolute aristocrat who lived during the French Revolution and the Napoleonic era. For many years, he was imprisoned in an insane asylum. His perverse novels and plays scandalized French society, and his name became the source of the word ‘sadist.’

“What’s De Sade?” I asked.

Han cocked an eyebrow, amused by my reaction. “A BDSM club in Lan Kwai Fong – Hong Kong’s nightlife district. It’s pretty upscale, but it’s freaky.”

I stood there for a long moment, weighing what I should do.

I knew what the wise choice would be…

But I ultimately decided against it.

“I wouldn’t mind taking a look,”I said. Then I added hastily, “Purely out of curiosity.”

Han grinned and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I don’t give a fuck. Let’s go!”

15

The 15-minute helicopter ride back was amazing. The gaudy neons of Macau disappeared as we soared out over the water and were enveloped in darkness, and the lights of Hong Kong twinkled in the distance.

The closer we got to Hong Kong, the more neon I saw amongst the white city lights – but the subtler reds and blues were quite pretty compared with Macau’s tacky golds, greens, and oranges.

We landed atop the Syndicate skyscraper, then went down to the limo still parked underground. As the car drove through the brightly lit streets of Hong Kong, Han laughed drunkenly and told me raunchy tales of his exploits in the city.

Lan Kwai Fong was the nightclub district, and I could see why. While the road we traveled was still navigable by cars, the side streets were filled to overflowing with thousands of people in clubbing attire: men in slacks and short-sleeve collared shirts and women in tiny black dresses.

“The place we’re going isn’t as crowded asthat,is it?” I asked with dread as I stared at the masses of people.

“No, no, it’s classy,” Han reassured me. “You’ll see.”

We reached a building resembling a miniature version of the Syndicate’s skyscraper, with only 10 floors instead of 70. The limo stopped at the curb.

“Come on,” Han said as he spilled out onto the sidewalk.

I followed him into the building’s lobby, which was decorated in black marble. The place was empty except for two men in suits standing at attention – obviously security.

They nodded at Han as he led me into an elevator.

“They know you?” I asked.

“Everybody knows me,” he said smugly.

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