Page 103 of Gathered Sparkle

“Don’t be silly. We’ve got more than capable baristas to make us a coffee. I’ll let them know. How long will you take?”

“I’m at the Lane Building. Ten minutes?”

Her smile widens. “I’m looking forward to seeing you, darling.” She hangs up and immediately dials the concierge to arrange for three coffees to be brought up.

“So, Koen’s coming?” I ask as if I didn’t hear the whole conversation.

“Can you please at least act civilly with him?” She turns back to me, and her expression hardens. “This is a big deal, Nicholas. We need this to work out.”

“I’m still not quite sure how you—”

“Because you don’t think big enough or far enough ahead.” She sighs. “We’ll make this venture with them, build it, make it big, and pull them into a sense of security with us.Family.” Her voice lowers, dripping with intent. “This is playing the long game, but it will be worth it. So you better start acting friendly, Nicholas.”

“I will, I promise.” She gives me an unbelieving look. “I’m going to try, at least. But for what? What is even the plan here?”

“When they’re in this, we’re going to offer to help them with their financials. They’ll trust us more and more, give us access and power of attorney over their stakes. Let’s be honest, they’re children. They have no idea what to do with all the money they’ve earned and inherited.” Her eyes gleam. “And when we’re there in control, it only takes a little something. Stuff happens to people.”

“Stuff happens? You mean like with Oscar?”

That was too blunt, and I know it.

But fuck. She is fucking ruthless.

She just throws me a glare sharp enough to cut slices through me before her phone rings again, and she picks it up. “Yes?”

“Ms. Harrington.” The concierge’s voice filters through. “Mr. Lane has arrived in the lobby.”

“Send him up.” She hangs up and fixes me with a pointed look. “Sometimes, Nicholas, things have to be done for the greater good.”

Her words linger as I force myself to stay still, to nod as if I agree, but my heart pounds in my chest.

Still not a full confession. Fuck.

I glance at my laptop, then back to her, my mind racing. She knows what she’s doing. And now, so do I.

The ding of the elevator pulls my attention, and when the doors slide open, Koen steps out, a smile already on his face.

“Koen,” Veronica greets him, her tone warm and welcoming in a way that still throws me off every time. “Come in, come in. How are you?”

“Good, thank you,” Koen replies, stepping into the penthouse with that easy confidence he always carries. “I’m sorry for the spontaneity of this, but I was over by the Lane Building, thinking about Oscar and what he would’ve loved for the new hotel, and—”

Another ding from the elevator interrupts him, and this time, it’s the server with a tray holding three coffees. He steps in briskly, setting the cups down on the kitchen island before offering a quick nod and heading back out.

“Sorry, darling.” Veronica gestures to the coffee. “Is here okay, or should we move to the living room for this?”

“No, this is fine, thank you.” Koen settles into a stool next to her. He picks up one of the cups, and we all follow suit, sipping as she prompts him to continue.

“You were saying…”

“I was thinking about that dinner we all had once, back when you and Oscar were talking about this venture. I didn’t pay much attention then. I was too busy discussing the new Mercedes Uncle Oscar had just gotten me with Nico.”

I suppress a grin, the memory hitting me as he says it. I remember that dinner vividly. Oscar animated and full of big ideas, and me barely listening because I was relentlessly ribbing Koen about the car.

It’s one of my best memories, especially the part where we went out to drive around in it for the rest of the night.

“But I do remember Oscar saying something about wanting magic-themed rooms,” Koen continues. “Like, ones where light illusions would change depending on what you touched. Maybe a mirror that shifts reflections when you walk past it, or a ceiling that resembles the night sky but moves when you clap your hands. Stuff like that.”

“Right.” Veronica smiles, a rare, genuine expression crossing her face. “I remember that dinner. I’d almost forgotten. It was such a long time ago.”

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