Ava stared at the bottles lined up along the far shelf.
Lucas Bai didn't just hoard weapons. He hoarded quality. Aged whiskey, old-world wines, things that shouldn't exist anymore, locked away in the heart of his fortress like they were just another part of his empire.
Ava sighed, standing. "You have good taste, Bai."
Lucas didn't look up from his work. "Naturally."
Ava rolled her shoulders, moving to the shelf. "You mind?"
Lucas glanced over, smirking. "By all means, Beauty. Just don't pick the one in the silver case."
Ava arched a brow. "Why?"
Lucas grinned. "Because it costs more than most people's lives."
Ava huffed, grabbing a different bottle. Something deep amber, heavy in her hand. She twisted off the seal, took a whiff—