I don't get it.

Let's say you're Robert Kraft. And you could be, if you had $6.6 billion lying around and happened to own the New England Patriots.

You're wealthy, famous, revered and reviled (by those who hate the Patriots). You're influential; a titan of finance.

And you allegedly risk it all by visiting a sketchy massage parlor in a suburban strip mall.

Kraft, 77, is among hundreds of alleged "johns" caught up in the human trafficking probe that closed 10 spas from Orlando to Jupiter and resulted in charges against several alleged "madams" accused of holding women in "sexual servitude."

He's not the only billionaire accused. Equity firm owner John Childs, who has a home in Indian River Shores (estimated net worth: $1.2 billion) is wanted on a solicitation of prostitution charge. In an interview with Bloomberg he insisted the accusation is "totally false."

John Havens, former president and chief operating officer of Citigroup Inc., was on the Jupiter Police Department's list of 25 men to be chargedin the probe. Havens, who has a property in Jupiter, is chairman of Napier Park Global Capital, Citigroup's former hedge fund division.

These are the kinds of guys who are chauffeured around, who breathe the rare air of Davos and Aspen and penthouses overlooking the finance capitals of the world.

Yet there they were, according to law enforcement, stopping in for services ranging from $59 for a half-hour to $79 for an hour, rendered by women held in human bondage.

Maybe the alleged "johns" didn't know about the trafficking part. Maybe they didn't want to know.

But even if they thought the women were on the up and up, so to speak, why would the likes of Kraft, Childs and Havens risk so much for such fleeting pleasure?

They cannot lack for companionship, and even if they did, they could afford the highest end of the highest end. They'd never have to leave the grounds of their gated mansions.

Yet they allegedly wandered on down to the shopping center, perhaps even standing in line behind the plebs who can only dream of the wealth and power they possess.

Former NYPD sex crimes detective John Savino told the New York Post it's all about "the clandestine thrill."

“A lot of it has to do with the danger of it, the excitement of getting away with it,” said Savino, now North Central Regional Commander for the Florida Bureau of Insurance Fraud.

"It’s just the ease of the mission being accomplished. There’s no strings attached.”

There could be more to it. In a piece last year on the trial of former Trump campaign chairman Paul Manafort, the Washington Post asked: "What is it about money that makes people do bad things?"

The story quoted Dacher Keltner, a University of California at Berkley psychologist: "There’s something about wealth and privilege," he said, "that makes you feel like you’re above the law, that allows you to treat others like they don’t exist."

A growing body of research, the Post reported, "has shown the rich cheat more on their taxes. They cheat more on their romantic partners. The wealthy and better-educated are more likely to shoplift. (And) they are more likely to cheat at games of chance."

This isn't true of all wealthy folks, of course. But to become wealthy requires risk. Why should that risk-taking be confined to the finances?

If the allegations are true, the lives of the sad sack "johns" will crater. The high rollers will emerge with a blemish on their name and a small fine; and one can imagine the divorce lawyers licking their chops right about now.

But that's about it.

They're privileged by their privilege.

So maybe the question isn't, "Why would they do this?"

Maybe the real question is — why wouldn't they?

Gil Smart is a TCPalm columnist and a member of the Editorial Board. His columns reflect his opinion. Readers may reach him at gil.smart@tcpalm.com, by phone at 772-223-4741 or via Twitter at @TCPalmGilSmart.