Page 169 of Scattered Glitter

Levi shrugs, his gaze shifting to me. “Keep your enemies close and all that.”

I turn back to the dress and mask, taking in every detail. Suddenly, it feels real, like I’m standing on the edge of a high-stakes performance with no room for missteps.

“Speaking of.” Levi crosses his arms, eyes flicking over me. “How’s it going with Nicholas?”

“I think he’s… hooked,” I hedge as I try to keep my real feelings off my face—the ones I don’t want to name. “Or close to it. I’m getting him to trust me more. I just need a little more time, but…” I pause, considering my next words carefully. “Honestly, I don’t think he’s as bad as you think he is. Maybe he… changed?”

“What?” Levi lets out a short laugh. “You think the prince of Vegas is only a poor, misunderstood boy?” He shakes his head. “People don’t simply change, Little Bird. Not when they’ve grown up in a world like ours.”

“I don’t know,” I murmur, glancing at my feet as I try not to let Levi’s words hit as hard as they threaten to. Because maybe Iambeing naïve. I’ve only been part of their world for about five minutes, after all. “I don’t think he’s the guy he pretends to be.”

Koen is quiet, his expression thoughtful as he glances between Levi and me. “Nicholas was my best friend before all this,” he says quietly. “He used to hate everything that came with the Harrington name. The responsibility, the image.” His gaze grows distant for several long moments as he adds, “I thought, after everything… that he’d chosen to embrace it.”

“I don’t think he wants any part of it,” I say, but the growing doubt starts to gnaw at me.

“Maybe.” Koen sighs, looking over at Levi, whose goodhumor has evaporated since we started this subject. “Or maybe he’s playing you as much as you’re playing him. Who knows?” He shrugs. “But we need you to get close to him for the evidence, not for his sake. He doesn’t matter in the big picture.” Koen tilts his head, giving me a pointed look. “What did you tell him about us? Since he saw you with us, I assume you had to come up with something.”

“Nothing too complicated.” I reach out, idly twirling one of the feathers on the dress between my fingers, letting its softness distract me for a second. “Just that I’m your long-lost cousin, back in town and working for you as your personal assistant.” I shrug, tracing my fingertip along the feather’s edge, the delicate ridges tickling my skin. “Oh, and that I hate your guts.”

Sylus’s laugh cuts through the tension expertly, echoing loudly from where he’s sprawled out on the floor, still popping pieces of sushi into his mouth. He’s clearly not as personally offended by this subject as the twins are. “Nowthat’sbelievable.”

Koen stands from the couch and approaches me, a smile ghosting across his lips. His fingers lift my chin, his thumb grazing my jaw in a way that’s maddeningly gentle. “Do you really hate my guts, Little Thief?” His voice has a fine edge of challenge I feel all the way down my spine.

I arch an eyebrow but say nothing. He would see right through any lie anyway.

Koen’s thumb traces along my skin, sending a subtle shiver through me as his lips quirk, that smirk sharpening. Then his thumb pauses, his fingers still holding me in place, as if he’s testing how long I’ll let him linger there.

When I don’t move or speak, he leans in, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth in a tease of connection, just enough to leave me wanting more. “That’s what I thought.”

As he pulls back, smirk still in place, I find myself questioning everything.

My reasons.

My loyalties.

Andeven my ability to keep my heart locked up tight.

I’m so fucked.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Novalee

The grand gala room of Harrington Heights is everything I expected—a sea of elegance with decadent chandeliers, glittering dresses, and crisp suits. Everyone’s faces are hidden by masks, which lends an extra layer of mystery to the evening. A string quartet performs in a discreet corner, their music blending with the quiet hum of conversation and the occasional clink of champagne flutes. I catch a whiff of something sweet and tempting from the trays of finger food the servers are carrying, but I ignore it, glancing around the room instead.

I may look calm, but nerves are simmering beneath my skin, making me more agitated than I’d like, and a little nauseous.

I’m standing with Koen, Levi, Sylus, and Ezra, all of them polished and masked, looking every bit as impressive as the other high-society types around us. Koen and Levi wear their confidence like their suits—comfortable and effortless. Levi’s suit, glittering under the lights, is striking, making me miss my usual glitter and shine.

I run a hand down the skirt of my dress, feeling the softfabric. Tonight, I have to settle for black and feathers, and I find myself again anchoring myself to the bracelet Koen gave me as I scan the crowd, searching for Nicholas.

Koen notices, of course. “Nervous?”

I glance up at him, hesitating for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”

Levi’s gaze snaps to me, his usual playful expression shifting to something more serious, almost protective. Before Koen can say anything else, Levi leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “You know, there’s a saying I tell myself before every show,” he whispers. “A bird doesn’t land on a branch because it trusts the branch won’t break.” His fingers reach out, brushing against one of the feathers on my dress, twirling it lightly between his fingers. He studies it for a moment, then lets it fall back into place as his eyes meet mine, almost eerie through the mask. “It lands because it trusts its own ability to fly away if it needs to.”

He straightens, and his smile returns, a touch of playfulness slipping back in as he taps my nose. “Trust that if this all comes crashing down, you’ll be able to fly, Little Bird.” I swallow against the unexpected emotion clogging my throat, even as his words settle a good bit of my nerves. Then, almost as an afterthought, he adds, “You look stunning tonight if that helps.”

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