Page 125 of Scattered Glitter

He barely glances at me, dismissing me with a curt nod and shifting his gaze elsewhere.

Okay, rude.

Undeterred, I step closer, dialing up the charm. “Need a breather from the crowd too?”

Still nothing. His attention stays elsewhere as if I’m part of the background.

Come on, work with me here.

I need him to engage, to drop his guard long enough for this to work, and it seems flirting isn’t going to break through that wall of indifference. I scan him once more. There’s a tiny wine stain on his sleeve, almost imperceptible, but there. A neat freak like him would hate it.

“That’s such a beautiful suit,” I compliment as I lean in to point to his sleeve. “But you’ve got a little something right there.” I lower my voice like it’s a secret between us. “I know a trick to get stains out if you want some help.”

“What?” His dark eyes finally meet mine briefly, then trail to the stain, his brows instantly furrowing when he spots it.

Hook, line, and sinker.

I smile sweetly as I lean in and pretend to fuss over him. With one smooth motion, I slip the card into his chest pocket. The fabric doesn’t so much as whisper together as it disappears.

I’m triumphant until his hand snaps out, gripping my wrist with unexpected force. My heart seizes, and I freeze. His eyes narrow on me as he pulls the card from his pocket with his free hand, holding it up between us.

“What’s this?” he asks rhetorically, his voice measured, betraying nothing.

“I—” I blink, my expression as blank as my mind. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly pulls back his suit jacket, revealing a police badge glinting under the dim light.

My stomach drops.Shit.

“Detective Hill,” he introduces himself needlessly, his voice edged with cold authority. “And you and I are about to have a very serious conversation.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Look, I don’t know what—”

“Save it.” He cuts me off as he pulls me toward the exit. “We’re doing this somewhere more private.”

I stumble as he drags me through the museum. Panic sets in as I glance back and see Levi’s pale face, his expression stricken. Koen holds Sylus back, his hand gripping his upper arm to keep him from rushing forward. The look in Koen’s eyes says it all.

I fucked up.Big time.

But how? It was perfect. There is no way he would have noticed.No way he…

“Come on.” Hill pulls me down the hallway and intowhat appears to be a security room filled with screens monitoring every corner of the building.

He turns me and wrenches my wrists behind my back, the cold metal of cuffs snapping into place. I breathe through the sting, but their tightness presses deep, pinning my arms uncomfortably.

Maneuvering me over to a metal table, he shoves me down onto its edge, the chill from the surface seeping through the silk of my dress. I tilt my head, eyes fixed on his, determined to swallow down the panic pressing at the edges.

I glance around, assessing my surroundings. The room is cold, sterile, and smells faintly of stale coffee. No obvious exits apart from the door he pulled me through and now stands in front of.

Fuck.

“You want to tell me who sent you?” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge of frustration.

I meet his eyes but stay silent, my resolve hardening under his scrutiny. He waits expectantly for several long minutes, probably thinking that’s all it’ll take for me to crack, but I won’t.

I’ll take the fall if I have to.

---