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Russell, still visibly shaken, stood frozen in place. Just moments ago, his anger had boiled over, but now confusion overtook him. He gaped at Maverick, unable to form coherent words.

Maverick leaned in closer, his voice low and laced with quiet authority. "You should trust me, Russell. I'm gambling away my own neck here. But," he added, his eyes glinting with resolve, "I would never give away my most precious thing."

Russell sighed heavily, turning away in exasperation. "Do whatever you want," he muttered under his breath, his tone begrudging but resigned.

The old trader returned with a small red box in his hand, his weathered face lit by a knowing smile. He placed the box in Maverick's hand. "Here it is, lord," he said with a respectful nod.

Maverick opened it to reveal a pair of gold cufflinks, their polished surface gleaming in the dim light. A satisfied smile curved his lips as he snapped the box shut.