Page 68 of The Tower (Billionaire Brothers Grimm #1)
T he mountain air is crisp and clear as I stand on the terrace, sketching the sunrise over the valley. The Connecticut house—our house —glows in the early morning light, stone and glass and wood warmed by the promise of a new day.
Behind me, the door slides open, and Liam’s warmth presses against my back as his arms encircle my waist. “You’re up early,” he murmurs against my hair.
“Just trying to capture the view,” I say, leaning into him. “I still can’t believe I can do this.”
“Sketch or stand on balconies?” His words are a tease, but I hear the understanding, too.
“Be outside,” I say. “Be anywhere I want to be.” I turn in his arms to face him. “Be me.”
His smile softens, and I see pride reflected in his eyes. “You’ve come a long way, Princess.”
One year since Bane’s conviction. Eighteen months since my father’s death. And a lifetime since I was that frightened girl trapped in a penthouse, drugged and controlled by a man who saw me as property rather than a person.
Lydia Cosmetics continues to thrive, reclaiming my mother’s vision with each new campaign. Ruby has proven herself an exceptional partner, her creativity perfectly complementing my strategic vision.
And Elysium …
Elysium has exceeded all expectations. We launched the commercial version six months ago—a gaming platform that combines immersive experiences with the opportunity for users to build their own worlds, just as I once built mine.
The therapeutic applications continue alongside it, drawing attention from mental health professionals worldwide.
My father would hate it all. The thought brings a smile to my face.
“What are you thinking about?” Liam asks, his hands warm on my waist.
“How different everything is. How much has changed.”
“Regrets?” The question is casual, but I hear the undercurrent of vulnerability.
I shake my head firmly. “Not one.”
He nods, seemingly satisfied, but I know him well enough to see the shadow that occasionally crosses his face—the memory of my father’s death, of decisions that can’t be unmade. Of the fine line between protection and control over which he still sometimes stumbles.
“We should get going,” he says, glancing at his watch. “The board meeting?—”
“You’ll just have to drive fast,” I interrupt, setting aside my sketch book and stepping closer to him. “There’s something we need to take care of before we go.”
“Oh, really?” he says, a familiar heat kindling in his gaze. “Is that so, Princess?”
I rise on tiptoes, then brush my lips over his. “That’s so, Grimm.”
His arms tighten around me, and I laugh he lifts me off my feet, then snuggle close as he carries me inside.
This is my life now. Not perfect, but real. Not a fairy tale, but a partnership built on truth and trust and love all tested and tempered by fire.
As Liam carries me to our bedroom, I catch a glimpse of the valley below, vast and open and brimming with possibility.
No more towers. No more cages. Just endless sky, and the promise of tomorrow.
Together.