Page 215 of Gathered Sparkle

“Let’s see what we’ve got.” Koen’s fingers twitch slightly, his free hand moving theatrically. “Harold Foster.”

Veronica stiffens even more.

Yeah, bitch. It’s going down.

I turn the drone to focus on the human Band-Aid of a man. Foster appears surprised but then saunters toward Veronica and the twins. Beneath that beige suit and well-rehearsed smirk, he’s nothing but a coward who sells sex like poker chips.

When I first hacked his cloud to gather evidence, I saw his work up close and the fallout of thenumbershe treats like inventory.He’s fucking sick.

I spent weeks piecing it all together, finding patterns in payments, coded schedules, and transportation logs. When I connected the dots, Ezra took the intel to the police. We intercepted some of hisshipmentsand saved the girls before they disappeared into whatever nightmare he had planned for them.

We were able to stop a handful of his operations, and a few of his lackeys ended up behind bars. But it didn’t take long for Foster to catch on. He started using proxies, erasing his tracks, and moving faster than we could anticipate. Every time we thought we had him pinned, he slipped through the cracks in the law.

And the girls suddenly were never where they were supposed to be. The police showed up to empty warehouses or fake addresses, and Foster always got away, smirking as if untouchable.

My fingers tighten on the controls until the plastic creaks under the pressure while Foster’s gaze flits over the crowd like he’s still the one holding all the cards.

Not tonight, asshole.

Veronica shifts on her heels, and her eyes narrow ever so slightly, tracking Foster as he approaches them. “Koen, what—”

“Ah, there he is, amazing. Let’s see who’s next.” Koen’s brow furrows in exaggerated concentration, playing to the crowd as he touches Veronica’s forehead again. “Marcus Blackwood.”

The crowd parts, murmuring as Blackwood makes his way to the stage, everything about him calculated,dangerous.

His reputation isn’t just whispers in dark alleys. He’s Veronica’s enforcer, her blunt instrument, sure, but he’s far from stupid. As he strides toward the stage, the way his eyes sweep the crowd makes my skin crawl. It’s like he’s already scanning for exits, threats, and weak points. He’s never unprepared. Never complacent.

Until tonight.

Veronica’s mask cracks further. She’s not even trying to hide the tension radiating off her now, and her gaze flits briefly to Nicholas, who is still standing at the edge of the crowd, watching but offering no reaction.

“Thank you for joining us,” Koen greets vaguely in Blackwood’s direction. “Let’s see who else will have the pleasure.” Veronica steps back, not letting Koen touch her again, but he tilts his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he listens to the imagined whispers of the ether. He flicks his wrist with a flourish. “Richard Belmont.”

I turn the drone again to capture Belmont’s wide eyes.

Yeah,fucker.

I should fuck you up for daring to touch my Sparkle.

“Koen, what is this about?” Veronica hisses, putting her palm over the microphone she’s holding.

Her eyes follow Belmont as he approaches as if willing him to disappear back into the crowd.

Koen shrugs innocently. “Those were the names that were on top of your head.”

I let the drone hover over the scene, catching every detail of her reaction. Veronica’s forced smile twitches at the edges, and I can almost hear her thoughts scrambling to assess what Koen is doing and how much of a threat it poses.

My lips curl into a grim smile. “Gotcha.”

Koen’s arms spread as he addresses the crowd. “Everybody, a round of applause for our brave volunteers!” The audience erupts into cheers, oblivious to the tension.

“Let’s loosen up, shall we?” Levi calls to the crowd. “We’re here to have some fun, right?” He grins as he throws an arm around Blackwood’s massive shoulders, eliciting a glare from him that Levi ignores, but somehow Pebble looks a little nervous.

I know Ezra’s hyperventilating right now.

Belmont adjusts his tie, and Foster shifts nervously on his feet, while Veronica watches them all, her smile now razor-thin, eyes darting from them to Koen, trying to decipher the game.

Oh, she knows she’s fucked. And soon, so will the crowd.

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