Page 173 of Roberto

The next morning, I got a call from Lau.

“Do you recall what you and Mr. Han discussed last night?”

We’d only discussed one thing.

“Yes…?”

“Follow his instructions. He will put you in touch with someone.”

“But – ”

“Follow Mr. Han’s instructions,”Lau said curtly, then hung up.

At that point, I realized that Lau wasn’t just in bed with gangsters…

Hewasa gangster.

Albeit the kind that owned the bank instead of robbing it.

Han smirked the next night when I asked for his dealer’s name.

Asshole.

I used Han’s connection for a while, but I became incredibly uncomfortable with the guy. He was another dead-eyedsociopath – the kind of man who would put a bullet in someone’s head and complain about the mess afterwards.

Plus, he was always surrounded by tattooed goons in cheap suits.

I was sure they were all triad… and I hated anybody triad.

After a while, I asked some of my friends from the old days who they would recommend. Two of them mentioned a guy named Chaoxiang, a street hustler who worked out of the back of a noodle shop in Wan Chai. He dealt in just about everything – credit card fraud, guns, and stolen passports, as well as drugs.

The one thing my friends all told me was, “He can get you anything you need.Anything.”

Turns out they were right.

The best part, though, was that Chaoxiang had a friendly disposition, wasn’t triad, and wasn’t a psychopath. He was just a regular garden-variety criminal who was very good at his job.

When Han asked me why I’d stopped using his buddy, I said, “Your boy has serial killer vibes, so I found somebody else.”

When Lau called me the next day with the same question – after Han had tattled on me – I said, “You told me I could run the business as I see fit. I found someone else who gets me excellent product, is cheaper, and doesn’t remind me of a serial killer. Do we have a problem?”

“As long as the supply chain continues uninterrupted, we’re fine.”

And that was that.

Until the Russian oligarch incident.

71

It was a normal Friday night when Han showed up with a middle-aged Russian.

The guy wore Armani and a $200,000 watch, but he was also a complete asshole – loud, obnoxious, and rude. He treated the bar staff like shit.

I was just about to have him thrown out when Han came over and said, “I need a speedball.”

“For your Russian friend?”

Han smirked. “Who else?”

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