Page 49 of The Tower (Billionaire Brothers Grimm #1)

Thirty-Four

Silken Chains

S he was glorious in the ambient light from the city, all soft curves and delicate strength, her body a map he intended to memorize with hands and lips and tongue.

Liam watched her sleep, her golden hair spilling across the white pillow, her breathing deep and even.

Her lips were still slightly swollen from his kisses, and marks from the silk bonds lingered faintly on her wrists.

The sight of those marks sent a surge of possessive satisfaction through him, a primal response he hadn’t expected to feel so strongly.

He’d played bondage games before, but it had been only one more item in his bag of sexual tricks. With Sasha … well, with her it had been a fuck you to her father.

Liam may have bound her, but he hadn’t caged her. On the contrary, he’d given her a sanctuary where she could finally let go. Her father’s control had stolen her choices—his offered her the freedom to surrender them willingly.

And in that surrender, he hoped that she’d found something her father could never take away again—her own power.

She’d given him one hell of a gift, too. She’d trusted him. Completely. And that realization was both exhilarating and humbling.

Now, the room was quiet except for the soft sound of her breathing and the distant hum of the city outside.

He reached out, unable to resist tracing the curve of her shoulder with his fingertips.

He saw the small scar from that damn tracker and frowned.

He’d found someone in London who could remove it without triggering the mechanism her bastard of a father had built into the device.

A failsafe that emitted a burst of poison upon tampering—and thank God Leo had managed to bribe the right people to acquire that information.

They’d take a trip and take care of that once things calmed down. In the meantime, he’d given her a dampener to keep in her purse or pocket.

Reed had tried to get her back. He’d failed.

He was going to fail again at the hearing.

He had to. Because if Victor Reed prevailed at that hearing, then Liam would have to kill both Reed and Bane. Because there was no way he’d let either of those men get close to Sasha again. “Not ever,” he whispered. “I promise you that.”

She murmured something in her sleep that might have been his name, and his heart squeezed, just like a sixteen-year-old boy with a crush on the cheerleader.

What the hell was he doing?

This was supposed to have been so straightforward. Use Sasha Reed to get to her father. Take his revenge for what Victor had done to his mother. Simple. Clean. Uncomplicated by feelings.

But nothing about this was simple anymore.

He thought back to that moment when she’d shown him Elysium—her eyes bright with pride as she navigated through the world she’d created.

He’d watched her write code for years, witnessed her brilliance firsthand in that virtual world.

But he’d convinced himself she was complicit in her father’s schemes, a willing participant in the lies about his family.

“I had you all wrong,” he’d told her, and it was true. Not about her intelligence—he’d always known that was exceptional. But about her heart. He’d expected Victor Reed’s willing accomplice and found a prisoner instead. Someone who’d survived her father’s control without losing herself.

She was extraordinary.

And damned if he wasn’t falling for her.

Falling ?

No. He was already there.

The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow. He’d been so focused on his endgame—destroying Victor Reed—that he hadn’t noticed when Sasha had become more than just a means to that end. When she’d become essential. Not because of what she could do for him, but because of who she was.

He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her. The suite was silent and dark except for the city lights streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He moved to the window, looking out at the glittering skyline, at Reed Tower in the distance—a monument to Victor Reed’s ego and ambition.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Everything he’d worked for was within reach.

Years of planning, of gathering evidence, of building the perfect case against Victor Reed.

The man who had destroyed his mother, who had turned him into a pariah in his own family. The man who had made him what he was.

And now, standing on the precipice of victory, he was risking it all for Victor Reed’s daughter.

The irony was almost painful.

Behind him, Sasha shifted in the bed, the sheets rustling softly.

He turned to look at her, struck again by how vulnerable she appeared in sleep.

In waking, she was all fire and determination, a fighter to her core despite the gilded cage her father had built around her.

But in sleep, the armor fell away, revealing the woman beneath.

The woman he cared for far more than he’d ever intended.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with his own weakness. He couldn’t afford distractions, not now. Not when they were so close to bringing Reed down once and for all.

Except Sasha was no mere distraction. She’d become his partner in this crusade, a woman with her own stake in seeing her father brought to justice. She’d proven herself time and again—brave, resilient, and far smarter than anyone had given her credit for.

Including him.

The memory of her body beneath his hands sent heat coursing through him.

The erotic brush of her hair over his skin, the way she’d arched into his touch, the sound of his name on her lips as she’d begged him—finally, gloriously begged him—for release.

The trust in her eyes when he’d bound her wrists, when he’d blindfolded her, when he’d pushed her to the edge of her comfort and found her eager to leap.

The way she’d surrendered to him completely, and in doing so, had somehow claimed a piece of him in return.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to remain detached, in control. Using her, yes, but never becoming entangled. Never developing feelings.

Never wanting more than the terms of their agreement.

With a sigh, he moved to the bar and poured himself a whiskey. The amber liquid caught the city lights as he swirled it in the glass, thinking of all the ways this could go wrong.

Victor could win the guardianship hearing.

Desmond Bane could make good on his thinly veiled threats.

The evidence they’d gathered could prove insufficient.

Or they could succeed—and then what? What happened when their shared mission was complete?

When the bonds that had brought them together no longer existed?

What happened when she no longer needed his protection?

What happened if he lost her?

No.

He drained the whiskey in one swallow, welcoming the familiar burn. He was getting ahead of himself. One problem at a time. First, they had to win the hearing. Then they could deal with the rest.

He poured another drink, remembering the moment when she’d finally begged, shattering the last barrier between them.

He hadn’t expected the rush of triumph, the surge of possessiveness that had overtaken him.

The driving need to mark her as his, to claim her so completely she’d never forget who she belonged to.

It had been primal, almost frightening in its intensity. He’d never felt that way with any other woman. Never needed to possess, to own, to keep.

But with Sasha, the need was visceral. Undeniable.

He wouldn’t lose her. She was his. He knew it in his gut even if his brain was slow to lock it in.

She was his. Not because of their bargain, but because she’d chosen to be. Because she trusted him. Because she’d given herself to him completely, with eyes wide open.

The weight of that trust was both exhilarating and terrifying.

A soft sound from the bedroom drew his attention back to the present. Sasha was stirring, reaching across the empty sheets. Her eyes finding him in the shadows.

“Grimm?” Her voice was thick with sleep, vulnerable in a way that made his chest tighten. “Are you okay?”

He moved back to the bed, setting his glass on the nightstand. “Just thinking,” he said, sliding in beside her.

She shifted closer, her body warm and soft against his. “About tomorrow?”

“Among other things.”

She propped herself up on one elbow, studying his face in the dim light. The glorious hair he loved so much fell like a curtain of light around her shoulders. He lifted a strand, then twined it idly through his fingers, relishing the soft, feathery feel of it.

“You’re worried.”

“Cautious,” he corrected. “There’s a lot at stake.”

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “For both of us.”

There was a question in her voice, one he wasn’t ready to answer. Not yet. Not when he was still grappling with his own conflicted feelings.

Instead, he reached for her, pulling her against him. She came willingly, settling into his arms as if she belonged there. As if this wasn’t just an arrangement, a transaction between enemies who had found a common cause.

As if they were something more.

“Sleep,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

She nodded against his chest, her breathing gradually slowing as she drifted back into slumber. He lay awake, holding her, his mind racing with all the ways this could end.

With victory. With defeat.

With her walking away. With her staying.

He wasn’t sure which possibility terrified him more.

Gently, he rubbed his thumb across her wrist. The silk had been his idea, a test of how far she’d trust him. He hadn’t expected her to surrender so completely, to give herself over to him with such absolute faith. He certainly hadn’t expected how much that surrender would affect him.

He needed her. Not just her body, not just her value as leverage against her father. Her.

The realization was unwelcome. Dangerous. A complication he couldn’t afford, not with so much at stake.

And yet, as she shifted in her sleep, murmuring his name and pressing closer, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through him at the sound of his name on her lips, even in sleep.

He was in trouble. Deep, inescapable trouble.

Because for the first time in his life, he wanted something more than revenge. He wanted her. Not just for now, not just as a weapon against her father, but for … longer. Perhaps for always.

The thought should have sent him running. Instead, he found himself holding her tighter, as if he could physically keep her from slipping away.

Tomorrow would bring its own challenges. The hearing. Victor Reed. Desmond Bane. The battle they’d both been preparing for.

But tonight, she was his. Completely, unreservedly his. And for now, that was enough.

Or so he told himself as sleep finally claimed him, his arms still wrapped protectively around the woman who had somehow become essential to his existence.

The woman who might very well be his undoing.