"The buy was the easy part," Elias finally said, the cork giving way with a soft, expensive pop . "It’s the drinking that’s going to cost us."

The tequila bottle sat on the mahogany desk like a piece of high-priced architecture. It was , the legendary "blue sapphire" of the spirit world—a bottle defined as much by the jagged, crystalline stopper as the liquid gold inside.

Elias adjusted his tie in the reflection of the glass. He had spent six months tracking this specific vintage down. It wasn't just about the price tag, though the transaction had required a wire transfer that would make most men flinch. It was about the statement.