When people tried to have everything, they usually were left with nothing in the end.
This time it was a woman, but that made no difference to Nadine. The law was funny like that no matter where you were: killing itself wasn’t bad, it was killing the wrong people that was bad. Her business took her to a brothel for male prostitutes, and once again she found herself avoiding direct eye contact with people here in this sleazy district. Her gift of wisdom through vision was a curse here, and there were no stories she wished to dive into.
Once inside the building she was greeted by a middle aged man dressed lavishly in aristocratic Joyan attire. He made a show of a bow with arms spread wide before smiling at Nadine.
“Good evening, Miss! Don’t be shy, I’m sure you’ve come to the right place, and the best place, might I add.” The man chuckled as his hands came to rest in front of himself, palms pressed together as if in prayer.