Page 33 of The Tower (Billionaire Brothers Grimm #1)

“God no,” he says with such fervor, I know I misinterpreted the moment. “I just—never mind.”

“No. What?”

For a moment, I think he’s not going to answer. Then he looks straight into my eyes. “It hurts you. That he’s done this. That you’re not a daughter to him, just something to be leveraged.”

For a moment, I just hold my coffee mug between my hands. Then I blink, and tears trail down my cheeks.

“And to you?” I whisper. “Isn’t it the same? Aren’t I just a means to an end? A weapon to leverage against my father?”

His eyes lock on mine. “Is that what you want to be?” His voice is soft, but I can hear the challenge. “Just a weapon? Nothing more?”

My breath catches, my body responding to his proximity against my will. “What I want doesn’t matter. It never has.”

Something flashes in his eyes—regret? Or merely calculation?

“If that’s really what you think, Princess, then maybe it’s time for you to make it matter.”

I swallow, my eyes brimming once again. I want to tell him that I don’t know how, but his phone chimes, and he checks the screen.

“Dr. Chen,” he says, then starts toward the door.

I follow, my mind leaping to the one thing I’m sure I want. Freedom. Autonomy. However you want to say it.

I’ve been owned by my father long enough. It’s time for my life to be mine. All of it. All the time.

I perch on the edge of the sofa, twisting my fingers together as I watch dust motes dance in the air and try not to beg Dr. Chen to hurry up with her files.

She’s taking her time laying them out on the coffee table, and I’m about to drop to my knees and beg her to just please, please get on with it.

Grimm stands among the dancing motes, his shape dark against the brightness of the windows as he paces. I want him beside me, but at the same time, his constant motion is keeping me grounded, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away.

“Well, all right then,” Dr. Chen finally says, aiming a soft smile at me. “Let’s talk about the results.”

In five long strides, Grimm is at my side, one hand enclosing mine, the other firm against my back. I glance up at him with a nod.

“Tell us,” he says.

She opens a folder and hands me a paper covered with chemical formulas that might as well be written in Klingon. I hand it to Grimm but can immediately tell that he doesn’t speak Chemistry either.

Dr. Chen almost smiles. “In plain English, we’ve confirmed that your father’s been using a tailored pharmaceutical cocktail to manipulate your memories and, shall we say, your obedience.”

I’m not surprised, but that doesn’t stop the blood from rushing out of my head as the room tilts.

I squeeze Grimm’s hand as I take two deep breaths.

When I’m pretty sure I’m not going to teeter off the side of the couch, I look at Dr. Chen again, then speak through bone-dry lips. “He was using me as a lab rat?”

“In essence, yes. I’m so sorry, Ms. Reed,” she adds, her voice gentle, but unflinching.

Manipulate how?” Grimm asks.

“A two-pronged approach. One compound actively suppresses real memories. The second heightens suggestibility so those memories can be replaced. And the cocktail did include compounds to help you cope with your phobias, though there’s also evidence of compounds that would exacerbate them.”

I nod stiffly, fury cutting through me as I think about the way he manipulated me, as if I were nothing more than a doll for him to stick pins in.

Scared when he needed me to be. Able to cope only when it suited his agenda.

My skin crawls from nothing more than the reality that Victor Reed and I share blood.

“That’s why I remember my mother’s death wrong. He stole the real memory and replaced it.”

She nods. “Again, I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

I swallow, then squeeze Grimm’s hand so hard I’m probably crunching bone. “What other memories did he take or change?”

She shakes her head, a frown tugging at her thin lips. “I’m sorry. There’s no way to know. Perhaps only this one.”

“Or many more,” I say, my words tasting bitter on my tongue. “Because he was a sadistic bastard, and I was his toy.”

Dr. Chen glances at the floor before looking up and meeting my eyes straight on. “Perhaps,” she says, as Grimm pulls me closer to him. “I suppose we’ll only know when and if memories return.”

I draw in a breath, forcing myself back to the moment. “What else?”

I can see how hard she’s working to keep control, and that evidence of compassion almost breaks me.

I lean in even closer to Grimm as she says, “There was also evidence of a sedative compound that seems to have been used both in conjunction with the memory manipulation and as a tool to make you more malleable.”

“Malleable,” I say, as flashes of half-forgotten moments bubble up. The way I would become drowsy if I refused my meds. Then agreeable, because all I wanted was to make Father happy.

“He used to give me a fruit punch when I refused to take my meds,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

“I’d refuse, and soon after, I’d get the punch.

I hardly ever got sweets, so I always thought of it as a treat, and …

” I trail off, trying to grab the tail-end of a memory.

“They’d hold the punch out and ask me again.

‘Come on, Sasha. Be a good girl and take your medicine, and you can have the rest.’ And I would.

I’d swallow the pills with what was left of that punch. ”

I close my eyes. “They used things I loved to manipulate me. Kept them away, then held them out to me like a carrot.”

“I’ve got you,” Grimm whispers as his arm tightens around me. I sag into him, soaking up the comfort he’s offering. And—for right now at least—hoping he never lets me go.

“What else?” he asks Dr. Chen.

“The good news is, we now have conclusive proof of illegal drug administration. The compound’s structure is unique enough that there’s no plausible deniability—it could only have come from Reed Pharmaceuticals’ labs.

Plus, the team you put together to infiltrate the Reed operation was able to get documentation.

They were calling it Project Recall. And you were right,” she says, her attention on Grimm.

“They already have orders for the product from some well-known players in the underworld.”

Her words are flat. Even. Like she’s discussing the weather. But I can hear the tinge of emotion underneath as she continues to speak, and I realize that she has to keep it flat. Because otherwise, she’ll explode from the horror of it all.

I know exactly how she feels.

“The team’s recruited a whistleblower from inside Reed’s company,” Dr. Chen continues.

“She’s agreed to testify at the hearing to explain how the memory manipulation works and the plan to monetize it.

I spoke with the attorneys, and they assured me that even without her, we’re in an excellent position, but her testimony should let us steamroll right over anything they might raise. ”

Liam asks the question I’m too afraid to voice. “Will Sasha experience long-term damage?”

“No,” she says, losing that flat tone and offering me a genuine smile. “And I anticipate that at least some of your memories will return.”

“My mother?”

“You were very young when she died,” Dr. Chen says gently. “So the memories may be spotty. Unclear. Don’t expect too much.”

“I won’t. I just—I just want the memories he stole.”

She nods. “I hope you get them.”

I close my eyes, imagining forgotten memories of my mother surfacing like shipwrecks from deep water.

I want all of them, even the dark ones.

I draw a breath and squeeze Grimm’s hand tighter as fear and longing twist together in my chest.

When I look up, Grimm’s watching me, and the concern in those remarkable eyes is undeniable. “Victor can’t hide from this.”

He’s right.

Soon , I think, as hope engulfs me, warm and soothing. The day’s finally coming when I’ll see justice for my mother, my father will pay for what he’s done, and Project Recall will be dead in the water, unable to hurt anyone else.

After Dr. Chen leaves, Grimm and I settle in at the kitchen table and work on putting together a timeline of my medication history. It doesn’t take long to see a pattern— every time I showed signs of independence or resistance, my prescription was adjusted.

“This is going to destroy him,” I say. “Not just legally, but publicly.”

“That’s the point.” The edge in Grimm’s voice could cut glass. “He doesn’t deserve mercy.”

“No. He doesn’t.” I stand, a little shaky, and he’s immediately at my side, pulling me close. Keeping me steady.

“You should take the meds,” he says, referring to the capsules Dr. Chen left for me.

“Ironically, the last few days of withdrawal may be the hardest,” she’d said. “Headaches, shakiness. Possibly chills. It’s as if the drugs are fighting to stay in your system.”

I’d kept the bottle, but I have no intention of opening it.

“There’s no reason not to,” he says. “You don’t have anything to prove.”

“Don’t I?”

“No.” He uses a finger to tilt my chin up so I have no choice but to look at him. “Accepting help when you need it isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom.”

“Is that what you do? Accept help when you need it?”

A shadow crosses his face. “No. But I’m hardly a stellar role model.”

I grin, surprised by his honesty. “Careful, or I might start thinking you’re human after all.”

“Well, we can’t have that.”

The moment stretches between us, the silence both edgy and full of possibility.

Finally, I break it.

“My father stole pieces of me,” I say, my voice flat. “He cut out memories like tumors. And he replaced them with his version of reality.” I tilt my head up to look at him. “I’m not okay. But I will be.”

I swallow, then look down at the polished hardwood floor. “I just need a little time. I—I’m sorry,” I say, taking a step away from him. “Let me be alone right now, okay?”

The indecision is clear on his face, but when I plead once more, he nods. I take the victory, then hurry to the yellow bedroom. I close the door, cursing when I realize there’s no lock.

I pull out the computer and the headset, set everything up, then sign in.

Almost immediately, I find myself standing outside on the castle’s highest tower, my hair blowing in the wind.

The headset isn’t nearly as immersive as mine back home, and I don’t have any tactile sense in Elysium, but at least I’m here, and I gaze out over the kingdom searching for Killiam.

When I can’t find him, I summon Ember, who takes off again with orders to find my prince.

Now, I wait, craving Killiam. Needing him.

Hardly any time has passed when I see Ember returning with Rebel by his side. My prince rides his gray dragon bareback in circles around the tower as I scamper up Ember’s outstretched wing to my saddle, then the four of us are off.

Ember leads, and I can feel Killiam’s gaze on my back.

Soon we arrive at the Mountain Sanctuary, well-hidden from the king between the mountain peaks. Rebel and Ember take to the sky, and I stand still, taking in the beautiful face of my prince, who now looks so much like the man in the other room.

A man who makes my body sing just as Killiam does. More so. A man I crave even though I know I shouldn’t. He’s helping me, true. But only because it suits him.

Killiam comes to my aid because he loves me.

I sigh, wishing that were true. Wishing Killiam were real.

And, shockingly, wishing that Liam Grimm wanted me for more than a means to his end.

That simple truth makes me reel. For years, Liam Grimm has been the devil. A man who had helped me once, only to toss away that goodwill in repeated taunts over the years, reminding me over and over that I was nothing more than a pretty little doll for my father to show off.

And yet he’s the only one who told me the truth about my mother. He’s the only one other than Ruby who helped me escape my father.

And for better or worse, he’s the one whose touch I crave. Even more than I crave Prince Killiam’s.

“You are deep in thought, my princess.” The voice through this headset is muddled, but I still recognize the rise and fall of my prince’s tone. “Will you tell me what troubles you?”

I shake my head. He’s a character in a world I invented. I know that. And yet I foolishly don’t want to hurt his feelings. “I’m just melancholy, my prince.”

“My love, let me help you forget your troubles.” He strides toward me, heat and determination in his eyes. He pulls me into his arms, strokes my hair, my face, my arms, all the while murmuring that I’m beautiful, that I’m his, that he worships me.

But I feel nothing.

And not just because I have no bodysuit.

Oh, god.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, turning away. For tonight, at least, there’s nothing here that I want. “I shouldn’t have come.”

I expect him to argue. To throw me down and demand a caress, a kiss, even more. My heart picks up tempo as I think about it, and I almost change my mind. But then I shake my head.

Killiam only stands and watches, his gaze full of heat, but he makes no move toward me.

I tell myself the weight of the day is too much, and that’s why I’m so eager to go. But that’s not it. It’s a different touch that I’m craving. Warm and real and belonging to a man I thought I hated.

Maybe I was wrong.

Or maybe I do hate him.

I don’t know. I don’t really care.

All I know is that Grimm is the one I want. Right now, he’s the only one.