Ava gritted her teeth, staring at the dress in her hands. "You really expect me to wear this?"
Lucas smirked, lounging against the wall. "Beauty, you're about to walk into a den of liars, backstabbers, and the desperate elite. You need to sell the part."
Ava rolled her eyes. "And what part is that exactly?"
Lucas pushed off the wall, golden eyes gleaming as he stepped closer. "A trader. A powerful one. Someone untouchable."
Ava narrowed her eyes. "And why, exactly, would they believe that?"
Lucas grinned. "Because you have something they want. You're a trader from another bunker, coming to sell fuel cells. And lucky for you—" he gestured dramatically toward a nearby crate, "—you have all my stock."
Ava blinked, glancing at the crate. "Wait. All of it?"
Lucas nodded. "All 11,000-ish fuel cells. Enough to make them drool."
Ava exhaled sharply. "Bai, that's insane."
Lucas chuckled. "And yet, it's going to work."
