Page 37 of The Tower (Billionaire Brothers Grimm #1)

Twenty-Seven

Delta Of Venus

I wake to a steady thrum, only to realize it’s the pounding of my own head.

Withdrawal .

I grimace, then sit up slowly, hoping coffee and ibuprofen will help.

Sunlight streams in through my east-facing window, so bright that I realize I slept straight through the night.

More than that, I’m wearing the same thing I wore yesterday, and the copy of Ana?s Nin’s Delta of Venus I’d pulled from one of Grimm’s many bookshelves is open on my pillow.

Apparently, I’d fallen asleep reading.

With narrowed eyes, I close the blinds, then breathe a bit easier when the dimmer lighting helps my head. Coffee will help even more, and I step out of the room for the kitchen in search of caffeine and Grimm.

I don’t find Grimm, but I do find his note by the coffee maker letting me know that he’s gone to a meeting.

I’m fine with that. Considering this new edict about begging for what I want I’m not quite prepared to see him. Not because he got it wrong and pissed me off, but because he got it right.

I want him—no doubt about that.

But damned if I’m going to beg.

I sip my coffee as I wander the apartment.

I’ve explored it already, but I haven’t thoroughly snooped yet.

And this seems like the perfect opportunity to learn more about the man who has become protector, lover, maybe even friend.

I hope so, because my father is surely on the warpath now, and Liam Grimm holds my life and my freedom in his hands.

That should terrify me—after all, my whole life has been controlled by someone hateful—but it doesn’t, and I’m not entirely sure why. And that open question is part of the reason I’m now poking around his apartment, hoping I’ll find some answers to the enigma that is Liam Grimm.

First, I peer into all the cabinetry in the kitchen, but I learn nothing except that he doesn’t live here full-time. There are too many boxed foods—the kind with long expiration dates—and too many frozen dinners.

I try to look in his office, but it’s locked, so my curiosity and I move on to my room.

So far, I’ve only logged onto the computer, slept in the bed, and worn some of the sweats and T-shirts I found in the top drawer of the dresser.

Now, I open the rest of the drawers and explore the closet, finding both mostly empty.

There are a few sweaters in one drawer and a couple of size six outfits hanging in the closet.

Too business-casual for my taste, but maybe Maya likes them.

I grimace, still not entirely sure who she is to Grimm … or if I even want to know. And, no, the stuff in her drawers doesn’t tell me much.

At loose ends, I do another circle through the apartment.

Despite being in the heart of Tribeca and only a block away from the street market, the space is eerily quiet—no traffic noise penetrates the windows, no footsteps from neighbors above or below.

It's like being suspended in a bubble, cut off from the world.

It's almost like being back in Reed Tower, except here, my jailer is Liam Grimm, not my father.

Is that a notable difference? Here I'm a weapon for Grimm to use against my father. There I was a princess doll. In one, I was the center of a marketing campaign. The other, the key to extracting revenge.

In both scenarios, I'm being used.

So how has my situation changed?

You chose this path.

The voice in my head is sure and strong. And right.

Here with Grimm in Tribeca, I'm free. And that's something I've never been except in Elysium.

But even in Elysium, I'd never truly let go. I held the reins, after all.

With Grimm, I've surrendered to our bargain—and god help me, I love it.

Everything.

Heat floods my cheeks as the memories surface—Grimm's hands on my body, his voice in my ear, the shocking pleasure of yielding to him. The even more shocking realization that I'd enjoyed being claimed that way. Desired that way.

And I can be again. All I have to do is beg.

I hug myself. What is wrong with me?

I've spent my entire life under my father's control. Drugged, manipulated, imprisoned in my own fears. I should be reveling in my newfound independence, not craving Liam's control.

And there it is, the core of what scares me the most—that after everything my father did, what if I’m the girl who’ll never be able to stand alone?

No.

I open my eyes and shake my head. That way lies madness.

So I turn away. From him. From myself. And I shift my focus to what I can still shape.

Elysium.

I settle in front of the computer, then navigate to a half-finished landscape—a mountain sanctuary I'd been designing before everything went to hell.

I open the scripting window, fingers already flying as I add detail to the rocky cliffs, smooth the flow of the digital waterfall, and enhance the pool at its base.

Time slips away, the physical discomfort of withdrawal fading beneath the focus of creation. My fingers dance across the keyboard, lines of code appearing on the screen, transforming into living digital art with each execution.

It’s only when I pause to flex my cramping hands that I notice I’ve been working for nearly three hours. And I’ve created something I didn’t intend.

A street market with stalls selling food and goods.

A stone building rising near it.

A balcony looking out over the entirety of Elysium, and my own avatar—Vale— standing there, gazing at all the paths that converge upon this majestic stone tower, now the center of this world.

A text box pops up— WTF? Doing renovations?

I turn Vale until she spots Ruby’s avatar, then reply— Just screwing around.

It’s true—just not the literal truth. I don’t want her to know I zoned out, let my fingers do the walking, and dropped a modified version of Grimm’s Tribeca apartment right in the middle of Elysium.

A fantasy world where this apartment is the center.

And where Prince Killiam, with all of his Grimm-like attributes, will certainly return by nightfall.

I don’t tell her, because I don’t want to think about what that means.

I have to log off. Sorry.

I cut the connection before she can ask me what’s up. Ruby’s my best friend, and there’s nothing I keep from her. But in this case, I’d rather dole out the information when I understand it.

Right now, all I understand is Grimm. Not just that I want him, but that the arrangement we have both scares and intrigues me.

And, yes, it turns me on. So much that I built the Elysium version of this apartment without even thinking about it.

And over the last few years, I built Grimm into Elysium, too, his personality hidden inside Killiam.

AI tweaked him, but I created him. The prince I craved.

The lover who protected me. The prince who would be my mate.

I built him out of my desires and needs.

But at his core, he is Liam Grimm, a man I used to hate. A man I’m now sworn to obey.

And that’s a little more Psych 101 than I can handle at the moment.