He walks in and sits down, stretching his legs out in front of him a moment before he takes off his shoes. The room is fine; Pagan's done enough business in hotels like these to become desensitized to them and their implications.

"Ah, don't worry about it. I didn't tell you mine, either. I think if I did, my guards would shoot me," he laughs in a way that implies they wouldn't dare.

"Now, let's get past all of that. Tell me. I'm dying to know."