Gathered Sparkle (Glimmer & Gleam Duet #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Nicholas

The night air bites against my skin as I sit on the steps outside the Lane Building. Neon pinks and blues flicker in the distance, blending into the golden glow spilling from the building behind me. My jacket is still inside, slung over the back of some chair in a room filled with people I don’t care about.

At another party my mother dragged me to.

Tourists stream up and down the Strip, some laughing, some shouting, their voices mixing with the thrum of music spilling out from nearby clubs. But I can only stare at the cracks in the pavement beneath my feet. My fingers tremble, and I shove them deeper into the pockets of my suit pants to hide it. It’s not only the cold. It’s the ache in my chest, the sharp twist of betrayal.

Because I just found out that the girl I thought was my girlfriend for the past six months, the girl I had thought loved me, wasn’t with me for me. She was with me for the money. Another pawn in my mother’s endless game.

She’s still inside, mingling with Veronica and other people. But I needed fresh air, or I would have been sick.

The doors to the Lane Building whoosh open behind me, and I tense, expecting someone to step out for a smoke or to take a call. Instead, I hear his voice, laced with a kindness I haven’t felt in years.

“You know the party’s inside, right?”

I glance over my shoulder. Oscar.

“That’s Oscar Lane!” One of the tourists on the street in front of us notices him.

“Love your work, man!” Another one shouts.

Oscar pauses, offering a polite smile. “Thank you.” He waves before continuing down the steps toward me. When he reaches me, he stops, hands back in his pockets, his sharp features softened by the glow of the streetlights.

It’s been years—eight, to be exact—since we’ve spoken, but he looks the same. There’s that same calm, unshakable presence I used to count on back when everything felt simpler.

“What do you want?” I ask, sharper than I mean it to be.

He doesn’t flinch, only steps down to settle onto the step beside me. “Saw you out here. Figured I’d ask how you’re doing.”

I snort, shaking my head. “Since when do you care?”

“Since always.” Oscar watches me with those perceptive brown eyes that see too much. “You just stopped talking to me.”

His words hit like a punch to the gut, and I look away, blinking hard against the stinging building behind my eyes. “Yeah, well… maybe I had my reasons.”

“Maybe you did.” He leans back, his gaze fixed on me. “But I’m still here, Nicholas.”

I want to tell him to leave. To mind his own business. But the words catch in my throat, tangled with the lump that’s been growing there all night. The pressure builds until I feel like I’ll break apart if I say anything at all.

Oscar doesn’t push. He simply… sits with me.

And then the dam bursts.

“I’m so tired,” I whisper on a breath. “I’m so fucking tired, Oscar.”

Tears come, hot and humiliating, spilling over. I press my palms to my face, trying to hold them in, but it’s useless. The weight of everything, my mother, the broken heart, the loneliness, it’s too much.

Oscar’s arm slips around my shoulders, pulling me in close. He lets me cry for a few moments, then he demands in his calm way, “Talk to me.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, willing the tears back. “The girl I’m here with? I thought she liked me. But she doesn’t.” I glance at him, expecting him to look confused or maybe annoyed, but he only watches, waiting for me to keep going. “She’s with me because my mother paid her,” I continue, the words tasting like ash. “Veronica wanted someone to… I don’t know, distract me? So I’d keep showing up to these stupid events and smile. Be the perfect son.”

Oscar lets the words hang in the air, his gaze shifting from me to Harrington Heights across the street.

My golden cage.

“And how do you feel about that?” he asks finally.

“How do you think I feel?” I laugh, sharp and bitter. “She bought someone to pretend to care about me. What kind of mother does that?”

“Maybe the kind who doesn’t know how to show her love any other way.”

“Don’t defend her.”

“I’m not,” he says evenly. “I’m just saying… your mother loves you, Nicholas.”

I scoff, wiping my face with my sleeve. “She has a funny way of showing it.”

“She’s blinded by a lot of things. And to be fair…” Oscar chuckles softly, “… I’m not any better at it, am I?” I glance at him, confused, and he meets my gaze with a small, sad smile. “I love you like a son, Nicholas,” he says simply. “I still do. I’ve kept my distance, but that doesn’t mean I stopped. I watch from afar, but you can be damn sure I do.”

Fuck.

There go the tears again.

He’s always been more of a father to me than anyone else ever was, but hearing it out loud? It’s like someone flipped a switch in my chest.

“You’ve got more people in your corner than you realize,” he continues. “Even when it feels like you’re alone. Even when you push them away.”

I swallow hard, wiping at my face again, but I stay quiet.

What the hell could I even say to that?

I love him, too, but does it change anything?

It doesn’t.

After a few moments, he pats my shoulder, his tone shifting to something lighter. “Now, come on. Let’s get back inside. I paid a shit ton of money for those appetizers, and if Koen gets to them first, you know he’ll leave nothing but the parsley.”

I huff a laugh, it’s weak but genuine, and let him pull me to my feet. We don’t walk in together. Oscar heads in first, muttering about guarding the shrimp cocktail and giving me a moment to collect myself. But as I step through the doors, the knot in my chest feels a little lighter, the weight of the night a little less suffocating.

Even from afar, he’s there.

The memory comes to me out of nowhere, a knife dragging across an old wound. I blink, trying to shake it off, but it clings to me.

Why now? Why the hell would I think of Oscar now ?

It feels like déjà vu, the ache of betrayal, the way it’s hollowed me out from the inside. The same way I felt that night five years ago on the steps outside the Lane Building, with Oscar sitting beside me, pulling me back from the edge. I could use that now—his calm, his clarity. The way he always made me feel as though no matter how broken I was, I wasn’t beyond repair.

But he’s not here.

He’ll never be here again.

The thought hits me harder than it should because I’m already spiraling, already teetering on the edge of whatever the fuck this is. My hands grip the doorframe so tightly that I’m surprised the wood doesn’t splinter beneath my fingers. She’s standing there, frozen in the middle of my mother’s office, her office , like a thief caught in the act.

No, not like a thief. She is a thief.

And worse, I let her in.

“Rosie?” I ask again and watch her flinch at the sound of it, her eyes wide and guilty. That guilt should soothe me, but all it does is twist the knife deeper into my chest.

Her hands tremble, clutching that purse like it’s the only thing tethering her to reality. And maybe it is. Maybe it’s the only thing keeping her upright because I can feel her crumbling under my gaze.

I move closer. One step, then another. Each one deliberate. Each one heavy. My eyes dart to the open laptop on the desk, and everything in me snaps.

“This was never about me, right?” The words scrape out of my throat, and her silence is all the answer I need. “You used me.”

Her face crumples, her lips parting as if she’s going to deny it, but she doesn’t. She can’t. Because we both know it’s the truth.

I laugh, sharp and hollow, as my stomach churns. “ Fuck .” I drag a hand through my hair, and strands stick to my damp forehead. The lies, the manipulation, the fact that I let her in, that I wanted her here, wanted her so badly that I ignored every single red flag waving in my fucking face.

She’s their cousin. Their assistant.

She wanted me.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Nico.”

But she did. She fucking did, and she knew she would. She played the part so perfectly, down to the way she said my name. I believed it was real.

God, I am such an idiot.

Once more.

“I was that blind again, wasn’t I?” The question isn’t for her. It’s for me. For the fool who thought that, for once, someone might actually want me instead of what I can offer them. Instead of what I’m worth.

She doesn’t answer, but her silence speaks volumes.

“I should have seen it coming,” I spit, bitterness curling around every word. “Someone like you would never want something real with someone like me.”

I don’t miss the way her face twists like she wants to argue. Like she wants to say something that might make me believe her, even now. But it’s too late for that. It was too late the second I walked into this room and saw her for what she really is.

“Did the twins send you?”

Her eyes widen, I know I’ve hit the mark.

A crack splinters through me, fracturing a part of me I didn’t even know was holding me together. I force myself to nod, swallowing the bile rising in my throat. “Go.”

She stares at me, her expression a tangle of shock and an emotion I can’t quite name. “You’re not…” She sounds so small, so fucking fragile. “You’re not calling security?”

I probably should. It would be the smart thing to do, the right thing. But I can’t bring myself to say the words, let alone act on them.

Besides, it looks like she didn’t get what she came here for. And honestly? I’d rather eat glass than have to explain this disaster to Veronica. To stand there while she picks me apart, smirking as she reminds me just how na?ve I am. How easily I let someone like her fool me. How I proved, yet again, that I’m exactly as dense as she’s always said I am.

I shake my head. “Just go,” I command again, my voice colder than I’ve ever heard it. I watch the way she shivers, how she takes a step back like she’s afraid of me now.

Good. Let her be afraid.

Let her feel a fraction of what I do right now.

Her footsteps echo in my ears as she stumbles out of the room, and I can’t bring myself to move. My body is frozen, rooted to the spot, as the weight of what happened settles over me.

When I finally step into the hallway, the air has been sucked out of the space. I see her ahead of me, already inside the elevator, fumbling with the buttons like she can’t get out of here fast enough. Her hands are shaking so badly that I almost feel sorry for her.

Almost.

The elevator doors start to close, but not before she looks up, and her green eyes meet mine. For a split second, I see something there. Not guilt. Not panic.

Regret.

But it doesn’t matter.

Not anymore.

The doors close, and she’s gone. My chest heaves, and the suffocating silence presses in around me. I lean my back against the wall, sliding down until I’m sitting on the cold marble floor, my head falling into my hands.

I let her in…

… and she broke me.