Page 152 of Gathered Sparkle

“Yes.”

At least she does at the moment.

“Good.” She moves to the counter and picks up a slim folder, offering it to me. “Can you give Koen this?”

I take it. “What is it?”

“Documentation from the joint venture Oscar and I started. Maybe he’ll appreciate seeing where his uncle wanted to go with it.”

“That’s…nice of you?”

Her laugh is low and humorless. “Nothing I do is nice, Nicholas. And you should start understanding that…” She pauses, her expression softening ever so slightly, enough to make me freeze. “But I have to say, I’m proud of how you’re handling the situation with him.”

Her words slam into me, and I stare at her, struggling to process.Proud.She’s never said that. Not once.

“I—” The word sticks in my throat. “That’s…”

“Stop stuttering,” she cuts in. “It doesn’t suit someone of our status.”

Ah, there she is.

I flip the folder open, scanning the pages until I see Oscar’s handwriting. My fingers tighten on the paper. He always signed his notes with a flourish, like he couldn’t resist adding some showmanship to even the smallest things.

“If you take that to Koen, I can leave early for my meeting.”

I glance up. “Which meeting?”

“It’s with Belmont. We have to… discuss some private matters.”

Ew.

“Belmont? Really, Mother?”

“Oh, spare me thereally, Mother.Belmont holds the third-largest stake on the Strip after us and the Lanes. It’s good business to maintain close relations.”

I fold the folder shut, holding her gaze. “Like the Lanes? To play the long game and someday achieve his money too?”

“You’re learning.” Her lips curve upward, not quite a smile. “But that’s not everything. He likes to be told what to do.”Ew indeed.“And he’s doing a lot for us. He launders millions through his hotels and bars.”

“Does he know about Oscar?” I keep my expression neutral.

“What do you want from me, Nicholas?”

The words hang in the air between us. I want to press. I want her to crack right here, to admit everything, to let the weight of her lies collapse around her. But I don’t have anything with me to record her confession.

I curse myself silently and let it go.

Not yet.

“Nothing, Mother.” I force the words out.

She pats my shoulder like I’m a child again, and the gesture makes my skin crawl. “Enjoy your evening, honey.”

I nod once and turn toward the door, the folder tucked under my arm and the weight of her words still sinking into my skin.

Proud.

She said she was proud of me.

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