Page 3 of The Tower (Billionaire Brothers Grimm #1)

Finally, I can’t hide out in the changing tent any longer, so with Ruby beside me and Mindy holding the dress’s train, I head back into the open.

Sure enough, there’s Desmond, tall and sandy-haired, with the blank good looks of old money.

He’s attractive if you don’t know anything about him.

And if you don’t look into those dangerous golden eyes.

“He keeps glancing this way,” I murmur.

Ruby cocks her head, indicating the other side of the roof. “So does Liam Grimm.”

I risk another look at Grimm, now standing mere inches from the barrier. For one horrible moment, I imagine the barrier breaking and him falling, falling, falling into the void.

I gasp, surprised when I realize Ruby’s holding my arm. I can see from her face that I’d fallen into the fear again and almost let it drown me.

But what baffles me is that it was the vision of Grimm tumbling over that had pushed me deep inside myself. After all, it’s not as if I care if he lives or dies.

Frowning, I turn just enough to see him, still casually flirting with that terrifying void. He’s chatting with the art director, but his head turns toward me as if he’s caught my scent. I meet his eyes, then stumble, shocked by the zing of electricity that seems to sizzle across my skin.

The man’s an arrogant asshole, but there’s something about him. Something both compelling and terrifying about this man who flirts with the edge. Who can look into the abyss and not fall.

Or maybe he’s already fallen. The man truly is a devil, after all.

“You okay?”

I turn to find Ruby studying me. We’ve arrived at the makeup tent, and as I sit in the chair, Ruby puts her hand on my shoulder. “What is it?”

“Just tired,” I lie. “I’ll be fine.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t press.

Soon enough, the makeup artist drapes me, and I’m grateful to have something else to think about.

She adds more glitter to my cheeks, and I can’t help but swallow a sardonic smile.

I’m twenty-six years old, shooting an ad for cosmetics aimed at adults, and I’m being dressed like a third grader’s fantasy of a fairy princess.

It’s one of those moments where you either laugh or cry.

Or throw yourself off a roof.

“Places in five,” Adam’s assistant announces, and the moment I’m released from the makeup chair, I head toward the refreshment table.

I want one of the bagels slathered in cream cheese, but until we wrap, I’m allowed nothing but water or apple juice.

Can’t risk staining my teeth, spilling on my dress, or—god forbid—bloating.

I’m sipping juice through a straw when I feel a tingle up my spine. The kind of sensation that warns you of danger. That survivors will say protected them from the car that jumped the curb or kept them from getting on the plane at the last minute.

When I look up, I see the danger staring back at me, predatory and calculating. Liam Grimm. Something dark and magnetic pulls me toward him, and I’m by his side before I can stop myself.

“Mr. Grimm,” I say, my voice as sharp as steel. “It’s been three years. Have you finally come up with some new insults to toss at me?”

His mouth curves into something predatory. “Ms. Reed. Still playing dress-up for the man who owns you?”

I stiffen, hating that his words mirror how I’ve been feeling all day. Victor Reed’s pretty little dress-up doll.

“I see your daddy’s still sending you off to sniff out the competition.

I guess that makes you little more than an errand boy.

” I flash my most charming smile. “Not surprising. Lucent’s a diamond.

And Daddy wouldn’t want to give too much responsibility to someone who’s nothing more than ordinary quartz. ”

It’s a low blow, but he deserves it. After he cut me off at the ankles three years ago, I made a point of learning more about Liam Grimm.

Including that he’s the product of an affair, that his birth mother is dead, and that except for Leo, his brothers and stepmom haven’t exactly welcomed him into their loving embrace.

I watch his face as I speak, but I see nothing. No twitch in his cheek. No darkening of his eyes. No narrowing of his gaze. As far as I can tell, my words haven’t fazed him at all.

Well, damn.

“You’re hardly one to speak of quartz, Ms. Reed. Especially since we both know your campaign is a far cry from a jewel.” His eyes move slowly over me, and for a moment, I’m lost, trapped in the power of that dark, commanding gaze.

Trapped, yes. But at the same time, I have no desire to break free. Not yet.

And that is what makes Liam Grimm truly terrifying.

I draw a breath and lift my chin. “Like what you see?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, revealing a dimple that softens the hard planes of his face. My body relaxes, unwittingly sliding into complacency by the hint of compassion I think I see in his eyes.

He glances down, then lifts his gaze slowly, his eyes moving over me like a caress, the sensation so oddly intimate that I can barely breathe. When he meets my eyes, I see a hint of warmth there. But that heat turns frigid as he holds my gaze, the frost cold enough to make me shiver.

Then he takes a single step backward and, with a slow movement of his hand, indicates the hideous ball gown. “You’re wearing the proof of your father’s debasement. That man will steal and destroy anything.” His eyes once again sweep over the gown. “Even my family’s legacy.”

I hear the hard edge of fury in his voice and have to bite my tongue to keep from shouting that I hate it, too. The ridiculous fluff that makes up the dreams we’re selling.

But I won’t say it. I won’t align myself with this man in any way. Not after what he said. What his family’s done.

I blink, trying to force back tears as I think of my mother. Of the night when Elias Grimm crept up to the roof. The night when I watched helplessly as he sent her tumbling over the edge as my father tried to grab her in time to save her.

But it was no use. She was gone. Down, down, down into the void.

I shiver, then hug myself, trying not to think of the fear she must have felt. I’d been only seven, and my mother had been my world.

The Grimm family had taken her from me.

I force myself to stand straighter, then take a single step toward him. “Your father is a monster,” I say. “Do you think I don’t know what he did? What he took from me?”

His eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think he’s going to simply walk away. Then he lifts his chin, and something savage flashes in those cold, blue eyes. He leans in, close enough that I can feel his breath against my ear. “Careful, Princess. The villain in one tale is often the victim in another.”

A twitch of dread runs up my spine, and I step back. I know only one thing for certain about Liam Grimm—the man is at least as dangerous as Desmond Bane. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, I’m drawn to his flame. “Stay away from me.”

He meets my eyes, and my breath catches. Then he nods, just a single tilt of his head. “As you wish.”

He takes a step away from me, then another. And then, despite my own better judgment, I blurt, “Why are you really here?”

He turns back slowly, and I want to kick myself when I see victory painted all over his face. “To see the girl who haunts my dreams,” he answers, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. “To watch the daughter of the man who destroyed my mother be paraded around like a porcelain doll.”

“Destroyed?” I shake my head. “That never happened. It was your family?—”

“Better be careful, Princess,” he says, moving closer, trapping me by nothing more than the force of his presence. “Accusations can be as dangerous as a blade.”

Before I can stop myself, I slap him, the crack of palm against cheek startlingly loud. He catches my wrist before I can pull away, his grip like iron, his eyes blazing.

“That fire,” he murmurs, his thumb pressing against my racing pulse. “That’s not your father in you. That’s all Lydia. And your father extinguished her fire, too.”

“Don’t you dare say my mother’s name.”

“I’ll do or say whatever?—”

Ruby appears suddenly, breaking the moment. “They’re waiting,” she says, her voice like ice and her eyes on Grimm.

He releases me slowly. Deliberately. “Enjoy your tower while it lasts, Rapunzel,” he says, then leans forward to whisper in my ear. “Because one way or another, I’m going to tear it down. And you’ll have to decide if you’re falling or flying.”

My skin burns where he touched me, as if I’ve been branded. Walking back to my mark, I can feel his eyes tracking me—a predator assessing his prey.

I take my position at the edge, the vast openness beyond the barrier no longer the most terrifying thing on this rooftop. That distinction now belongs to the savage current flowing between me and the man my father raised me to hate—a current that feels dangerously like desire.

My father positions himself where he can watch both me and Grimm, his scowl deep. Desmond stands beside him, his predatory gaze making me want to scrub my skin raw in a boiling bath.

“Come on people,” Adam calls, his camera already clicking. “We’re wasting the light.”

Immediately, I twirl, flashing my brightest smile. What choice do I have? I’m the princess in this story, after all. The innocent virgin lost in the woods and trapped between two monsters.

There’s no way out. Not for me. Because real fairy tales don’t end with happily ever after. They end with blood and teeth and pain.

And I’m beginning to wonder if I’m the heroine of my own story—or the sacrifice.