Page 220 of Gathered Sparkle

I glance around, ensuring the roof is empty, before running over to the edge. The street below pulses with life, the lights of the Strip illuminating the crowd like a glittering sea.

From this height, the cheers and gasps from the audience sound muted, almost distant, but I catch Levi’s voice ringing through the speakers. “Hold your Ace of Hearts up high! Show me your cards!”

I lean over the edge, gripping the railing tightly as I watch. Movement goes through the crowd as hundreds of people lift their cards into the air.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. My stomach churns as I glance down at the impossible drop beneath me. I almost forgot. Or maybe I suppressed it.

This is high. More than high.

My pulse quickens as the realization of just how far Koen will have to literally push this hits me again.

One miscalculation.

That’s all it’ll take. A slight wrong angle, the tiniest shift in timing, and Koen could go from Vegas’s greatest magician to its biggest headline tragedy.

Is this insane stunt worth it?

I think about the evidence, the mountain of incriminating data I’m going to pack into the Lamborghini Huracán. If this works, the press will feast on the information like vultures, and her empire will collapse overnight.

But would it really stop everything if we didn’t take this risk? Wouldn’t the truth spread like wildfire anyway?

I hesitate, gripping the railing tighter. But then I remember. This isn’t justtheirplan. This isOscar’splan. He would have gone through with this, too, and Oscar never would’ve greenlit something that put Koen in real danger.

At least, I don’t think he would have.

It’s not like I knew the man.

My fingers flex and release on the metal as doubt gnaws at the edges of my resolve, but then I force myself to tear my gaze away from the rooftop of the Heights. There’s no time for last-minute doubts.

Ace’s voice comes through. “I’m in position.”

“Hold,” comes Sylus’s answer.

Fuck, I need to hurry the fuck up.

I’m relieved when I find the wooden planks still hidden behind the cluster of decorative cacti next to me. Crouching low, I tug one free from its hiding spot. The planks are heavier than I expected—definitely heavier than I’d imagined when Sylus pointed them out.

“Dammit.” I strain to pull the first one out. My arms protest, burning with the effort, but I grit my teeth and drag it free, the edge scraping against the rooftop floor.

The second and third planks follow, each one a little more awkward to maneuver. Sylus and Ace must have muscles of steel because even with the adrenaline coursing through me, they feel like dead weight.

Sweat drips down the back of my neck as I haul the planks to the spot they marked. One by one, I position them, each landing into place with a dull thud. It’s not pretty, but pretty doesn’t matter right now.

I step back, catching my breath as I survey the ramp. “Please don’t break,” I whisper, the words almost a prayer.This has to work. It has to.

“I hope you’re not talking about yourself, baby,” Sylus’s voice crackles through the earpiece, his usual teasing laced with a hint of tension.

“Nope,” I shoot back, eyeing the planks warily. “Just the pile of firewood that’s supposed to catapult Koen into the air.”

“Great. Love the confidence,” Sylus quips, but there’s an edge to his humor, one I don’t miss.

“You’re done?” Ace cuts in.

“With the ramp, yeah,” I reply, brushing a stray strand of hair off my damp forehead. “Now I have to break the Lambo free.”

“Not to rush you or anything,” Sylus adds. “But you better hurry, Sparkle. Show’s not gonna wait for you.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” I mutter as I turn and start running to the Lambo parked at the far end of the rooftop bar in its glass container.

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