Page 6 of The Tower (Billionaire Brothers Grimm #1)

Four

The Gala

T he Beautify Manhattan Gala is held at the Pershing, a stunning hotel with marble floors and gilded everything. Major players in the industry circle each other like wolves in designer clothing, all pretending to like each other while jockeying for position.

My father guides me through the room, his hand resting possessively on my lower back. “Showtime, darling,” he murmurs.

I want to break away from his touch, but I know the kind of punishment that awaits me if I’m anything other than the perfect cosmetics princess tonight. Slightly aloof and pristinely elegant. A walking aspiration rather than a real woman.

Too bad for me, I’m as real as they come, complete with fears that are determined to set me up to fail as the space both stretches and contracts around me.

The room is too open, too exposed, and all of my breath seems determined to escape, leaving me weak and helpless on my father’s arm. Which is the last place I want to be.

No.

I force in a breath, then slowly release it, all the while regretting not taking my meds again today. What I’d intended as an act of defiance against my father was really me sabotaging myself.

Stop it. This is just a party. Just one more event for Father to show me off. Nothing new here. Nothing I haven’t done a million times over.

“Sasha?”

I hear the edge in his voice, and I’m certain he knows I’m spiraling.

But I’m not. I can’t. I won’t.

Not because of the punishment he’d surely render, but because I refuse to embarrass myself that way.

With more effort than it took to get into this damn dress, I lift my face and smile at him. “Lightheaded,” I say. “I should have had a bite before we left home.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to call me on the lie. Then he lifts his hand, signaling a waiter who comes over with a tray of small crystal plates topped with fruit and cheese.

I’m not hungry, but I thank both the waiter and my father. And, of course, I eat the fruit, using the tiny fork as my father continues to parade me through the room, showing me off to anyone looking in our direction.

Once I’ve finished the snack, Father steers us toward Desmond Bane, standing among a cluster of men, all in tuxedos.

He’s talking to Leo Grimm, the youngest of the five brothers.

And, possibly, an even bigger asshole than Liam Grimm.

He’s got a lanky build and a relaxed manner, but that’s just the exterior of a cold, calculating, and dangerous man.

I should know—I was the one who held Ruby’s hand when he so brutally betrayed her six years ago.

I glance around, wondering if the rest of the brothers are on site, but I don’t see them. Good. I’ve had more than enough of the Brothers Grimm lately.

My relief fades when Desmond sees us. He smiles as he stalks toward me, slow and proprietary. I shiver, suddenly feeling as if he’s the hunter and I’m his prey.

“Sasha,” he says, taking my hand and pressing his lips to it. His mouth is hot and damp against my skin, and when he releases my hand, I have to fight the urge to wipe it clean against the folds of my dress.

“It’s so good to see you,” I say, forcing a smile.

“You as well. You look exquisite as always.” His eyes graze over me with such a proprietary leer I actually shudder.

I conjure my most party-ready smile. “Please excuse me. I’m sure you two have business to discuss, and I should mingle.”

My father’s expression tightens, but he can hardly make a scene.

The further away I move, the easier it is to breathe, and by the time I’ve weaved through the clusters of Manhattan’s elite and spotted Ruby, I feel like myself again. She’s serving champagne when she sees me, then nods toward one of the balconies.

I reach it before she does, finding it mercifully empty. Despite the height, I feel less anxious out here than inside. The openness of the night sky is somehow less threatening than the ballroom with Desmond’s watching eyes.

Even so, I stand away from the railing, my back to the stone wall and my eyes closed.

I hear the door open, glad Ruby’s finally here.

But it’s not Ruby who speaks.

“Running away again, Ms. Reed?” The voice is deep, masculine, and disturbingly familiar. A tremor runs through me that has nothing to do with fear, but everything to do with danger.

I open my eyes, turning to see Liam Grimm shut the door behind him before striding across the narrow balcony. He turns his back to the rail so that he’s facing me, the black void of sky and city looming behind him.

He stands straight, his posture almost arrogant in a black tuxedo that fits his broad shoulders perfectly. His copper hair gleams in the dim light, like fire against the inky-black sky. A dark prince. Dangerous and compelling.

I swallow, unsure if it’s the void that disturbs me or the man. I lift my chin, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “Following me again?”

“Escaping the tedium.” He’s holding a small plate with a bowl of melted chocolate and several thin, cylinder-shaped cookies.

He dips one end of a cookie in the chocolate, then puts it in his mouth, sucking the chocolate off in a way that goes straight between my thighs.

Then he bites off the end of the cookie, making me jump as if being released from a dream.

He smiles, his eyes roaming slowly over me, as he holds out the plate. “Care for one?”

“I—no, thank you. I don’t eat sweets.”

“Don’t? Or you’re not allowed?”

I say nothing.

“Too bad. I was looking forward to watching you … enjoy yourself.”

I lift my chin. “If you don’t mind, I came out here to be alone.”

“You came out here to meet with Ruby. But I believe she’s tied up at the moment.”

I stiffen. “How do you?—”

“That’s quite the statement you’re making with your attire,” he says, his eyes grazing over the virginal white tent of material that practically screams storybook princess . “Your father’s choice?”

I should be relieved that he knows I didn’t pick the hideous thing. But he’s making me so edgy that I snap instead. “What makes you say that?”

Something flickers in his eyes—understanding, perhaps. Or calculation. “Your father has always been a master at manipulation.”

“Care to elaborate, Mr. Grimm?”

Instead of answering, Grimm pushes away from the rail and steps toward me. Close. Too close. His scent—dark and primal—envelops me. And the heat from his body mingles with the cool night air, making the space between us seem charged with electricity.

“Tell me, Sasha, has your father said anything to you about his plans for tonight?”

The use of my first name feels far too intimate, and I bristle. “What do you know about it?”

“I make it my business to know what Victor Reed is planning. Especially when it involves using his daughter as a bargaining chip.”

He’s baiting me, and I tell myself I should just walk away. But I can’t. I’ve been my father’s pawn more times than I can count, and every time I’ve been blindsided. If Grimm has insight, I want to hear it. Especially in light of Ruby’s intel that an announcement is coming.

“All right,” I finally say. “What are you talking about?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Your father really is the bastard I’ve always believed him to be.”

Panic taunts me, and the night starts to close in. “Just tell me.” The words come out as a plea, not a demand, and I want to kick myself for showing weakness.

For a long moment, he says nothing, but I think I hear a hint of compassion when he finally says, “An engagement announcement tonight would be quite the strategic move for Reed Cosmetics. Bane Marketing merging with Reed’s empire—very tidy.”

I shake my head, not yet certain where he’s going with this.

“And since Lucent currently works exclusively with Bane on its marketing, it’s also a deviously underhanded way to force Bane to withdraw his services from Lucent. Leaving my family’s company in a lurch, your father as the winner, and Desmond Bane …”

He trails off as he deliberately rakes his gaze over me, slow and heated. “Well, I guess Desmond’s the biggest winner of all.”

He frowns as he strokes his chin, like a detective in a bad movie. “I’m not quite sure where that leaves you, Ms. Reed,” he finally says. “But at least you’re already dressed for the occasion.”

I try to move, but my body’s turned to stone.

“You really didn’t know,” Grimm says slowly, his eyes narrowing as he studies my reaction.

“Just go.” I have to force the words past the tightness in my throat.

He stays. “I take it this isn’t a happy day for the beautiful bride. White,” he adds, appraising the gown with the hint of a smirk. “So, is she a virginal bride?”

My face goes hot. “You can leave now, Mr. Grimm.”

“I’m perfectly comfortable here. But you? What will you do now, Princess?”

“Please. Just go.”

“You’re going to walk back in there and do what Daddy says,” he continues, ignoring my plea. “Because that’s what you’ve done your entire, pampered, little life.”

Anger flares hot and bright inside me. “You know nothing about my life.”

“Don’t I?” He steps closer, trapping me like wounded prey, the night sky now visible only over his broad shoulders.

“I know that your father has kept you like a bird in a gilded cage for years. I know about your agoraphobia—so convenient for keeping you hidden away. I know about your medications. And I know that they make you dependent on him.”

My heart hammers against my ribs, so hard it makes me dizzy. “What? How?—”

“I make it my business to collect information. I pay well, and my people know that what they deliver had better be accurate.” He studies my face for a moment, and in that short span of time I want to bury him in a blizzard of horrible words and violent screams. But I can’t even conjure a squeak.

He leans in closer, and I feel the whisper of his breath as he says, “I know what I know, Ms. Reed.”

His nearness is disorienting—threatening and thrilling in equal measure. Part of me wants to shove him away. But some small, hidden part wants to step closer. To see what would happen if I surrendered to the magnetic pull drawing me toward this man.

“Sasha?” My father’s voice shatters the moment. He stands in the balcony doorway, his expression a mask of paternal concern that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Desmond’s been looking for you.”

I swallow, recognizing the steel beneath my father’s polite tone. “I was just getting some air.”

“With Mr. Grimm?” His gaze shifts to Grimm, who takes a step back, freeing up space for me to breathe.

“We were discussing business,” Grimm says smoothly. “Specifically, the remarkable similarities between Lucent’s current branding and Reed’s upcoming campaign.”

I frown—I’m not aware of any campaign other than our idiotic and saccharine Dreams campaign, and that’s nothing like Lucent’s historically excellent advertisements.

My father’s smile doesn’t falter, but his eyes harden. “Creative inspiration is the lifeblood of our industry, Mr. Grimm.”

“And theft is the lifeblood of fools,” Grimm replies, matching my father’s false civility.

The tension between them crackles like electricity, and I’m caught in the crossfire as pieces of a puzzle I can’t see take shape around me.

“Now, Sasha,” my father says, extending his hand to me. “The presentations are about to begin. Your presence is required.”

It’s not a request, and I dutifully take my father’s hand. As he leads me back inside, I glance over my shoulder. Grimm watches us, his expression unreadable, but his eyes burn with an intensity that follows me long after he’s out of sight.