Nodding slowly, Josh broke eye contact and shifted on the bed to fiddle with the sheet. He was silent for a few beats before speaking. “My father knew the risks involved before he was kidnapped,” he began, surprising her with the turn in the conversation. “He believed in his cause enough to come here in spite of them. Then he…died,” he managed, stumbling over the wording, and Sparkle knew why.
His father hadn’t merely died. He’d been murdered—throat slit then dumped in an abandoned site, left for the vultures to feed on his carcass for the rest of his people to see. She hoped the hell no one had let him watch the footage. She hated that his life had been touched with that sort of violence.
“When he died, he left instructions in his will that his work with the foundation be carried on,”
