Page 76 of Gathered Sparkle

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Novalee

We’re standing in front of theBriette Steakhouse, its sign reminding me of the chaos I ran from only a couple of days ago.

My throat tightens as the memory floods back, and it’s as if my body remembers too. The wound on my upper arm throbs faintly, a phantom ache beneath the emerald dress Levi bought me.

I glance down, confirming its long sleeves hide the bandage well. The dress has elegant lines, and the deep green color complements my complexion. The dress is undeniably sophisticated, especially since it’s paired with nude pumps and a matching purse. I’ve never looked more put together, but I’m not sure how I feel about it. It’s like my Glitter armor, a borrowed skin to help me blend into this crowd.

Inside, the restaurant hums with life, the air thick with the scent of steak. Servers weave through the tables, carrying plates piled high with dishes that probably cost more than my monthly rent. My stomach churns but from nerves, not hunger.

Deep breaths, Nova.

A server greets us at the entrance before leading us toward the back. My breaths come short and shallow until Koen’shand brushes against my elbow. His thumb moves in a subtle, reassuring stroke that I’m sure no one else notices.

“We’re going to be fine,” he whispers next to my ear.

I nod, just barely.

The private room we’re led into is dimly lit, and the centerpiece is a glittering chandelier that rivals Levi’s outfit in opulence. Ezra and Koen opted for black suits with black shirts, no ties. Casual enough to seem unbothered, formal enough to match the occasion.

And then there’s Veronica, who stands in a burgundy dress near the back of the room, adjusting Nicholas’s lapel.

Nicholas, on the other hand, is sin incarnate in his perfectly tailored suit. His bored expression is firmly in place, but when his eyes meet mine, there’s a flicker of something gone too fast for me to catch.

“Welcome.” Veronica’s gaze shifts to us, her poised smile a masterwork of politeness. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

I’m not.

“Veronica.” Koen steps forward. “Thank you for the invitation.”

As they approach, Nicholas merely nods, his expression unreadable. Veronica, however, glides forward with the ease of a queen greeting her court. She kisses the air beside Levi’s cheeks, then Ezra’s, Koen’s, and finally mine. Her perfume is a cloying blend of roses and power plays.

“Of course. Like I said, I think it’s time we all apologize and put this little misunderstanding behind us.”

Levi tenses beside me, a barely perceptible shift in his posture. Ezra’s hand moves to the small of his back, and I watch as Levi exhales slowly, visibly deflating.

“Then let me start with the apologies.” Ezra begins. “Veronica, you were right. Making a scene in the Heights lobby was uncalled for, and I apologize.”

“Thank you for seeing that,” Veronica replies smoothly, her gaze cutting to Levi with a hint of calculation. “I understand where you were coming from, Ezra. But you know how seriously I take the reputation of the Heights and everything else that belongs to me.”

The Heights is the centerpiece of an empire. Hotels, casinos, clubs—Veronica Harrington owns more of the Strip than most people realize.

“Of course,” Ezra agrees.

Levi’s charm is dialed up to eleven as he takes Veronica’s hand and brushes a kiss across her knuckles. “And I apologize for seeking you out in the middle of the night without calling ahead,” he says smoothly, but I can see the stiffness in his jaw. He’s performing, putting on a show, and it’s taking everything in him.

Veronica laughs lightly, waving him off. “Oh, Levi, darling. Why didn’t you? You know I’m always here for you.”

“I’d had a little champagne,” he admits, his grin disarming. “Probably had the best drunk idea ever and couldn’t wait to tell you about it. I got what I deserved for showing up unannounced.”

“I’m still sorry you got hurt.” Her gaze sharpens, but her tone stays warm. “It looks like it’s already better, though?”

“Magic,” Levi quips, his grin widening. “Or rather, makeup.”

Veronica laughs again, then turns to me, her scrutiny a physical weight, pinning me in place as her eyes sweep over me.

“Ms. Evans.”

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