Page 9 of The Tower (Billionaire Brothers Grimm #1)

“The windows are triple-reinforced. The building would shatter around us before the windows saw even a crack. You’re safe,” he says, then cocks his head. “From that, anyway.”

There’s a dark heat in his voice. A warning not to trust him. A reminder that acts of kindness don’t mean he’s kind, and that I still don’t understand his full agenda.

That basic reality makes my stomach churn, and I take a deep breath, trying to get back on steady ground. I nod toward the windows, then force a casual smile. “Triple-reinforced, huh? Are you anticipating a bombing?”

A single brow rises along with the corner of his mouth. “Now that I’ve taken you from your father and Mr. Bane, perhaps I should be.”

I dip my head to hide my smile, then look back up when his choice of words registers with me. “Taken?” I repeat. “I seem to recall making a choice.”

“No.” Those predatory eyes lock onto me like lasers. “You didn’t.”

I open my mouth to argue but close it again. He’s right, of course. As much as I may despise the entire Grimm family, between running away with Liam and staying behind to marry Desmond, there was no choice at all.

“That’s only semantics.”

“No,” he counters, stepping toward me. He takes my hand, his slightly calloused, and for a moment, I wonder if this man is more than a billionaire heir whose only work consists of sitting behind a desk making decisions.

“No?”

He moves toward me. “Let me be clear. I will protect you, Princess, but only so long as you fully comply with our agreement. From here on out, you will do as I say— what I say. And each and every yes that slips through those famous lips represents you choosing to remain under my protection.”

I tug my hand away. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

His smile is wolfish. “ What isn’t part of this equation. You agreed to everything. I expect you to live up to that bargain.”

I tilt my head down, not quite able to meet his eyes when I say, “You’re talking sex.”

“Look at me,” he demands in a voice that makes clear I have no choice.

I look up to see that he’s stepped even closer, so close that I can see the hard lines of that gorgeous face and the ice in his pale blue eyes.

“Sex is too soft a word, Princess. Love is a fairy tale, and sex is a release. And the love of a good woman won’t fix a bad man. My mother learned that the hard way. So did yours.”

I want to ask what he means, but he continues on. “I don’t do relationships. I don’t have sex as if I’m having tea. I fuck. For the foreseeable future, I’ll be fucking you.”

Oh, I say. Except no sound actually comes out.

“I’ll have you, Sasha. And I will take the everything you pledged to me. But have no illusions. I’ll keep you safe from Victor because that was our agreement, but we are not riding off into the sunset when the curtain comes down.”

As if I’d want to! But I can’t get those words out, either.

“And I’ll tell you a little secret, Princess,” he adds, taking my hand and pulling me close.

He puts one hand on my breast, the other over the lace of my dress, right at my core.

He pushes the material between my legs so that I gasp at the pressure of his finger at my entrance.

I stifle a moan, unwilling to let him see any reaction from me at all.

“I want to fuck you,” he whispers, that damn finger now teasing my clit and making my thoughts spin wildly.

“I want to taint you. Not because of you, Princess. But because you’re the one pure thing your father has.

I’ll take you and use you to get back at him.

But I won’t keep you.” He steps back, breaking contact, and for a horrible, hateful moment, I mourn the loss.

“And that’s a good thing, he adds, “because I’m a man who would destroy you.

” He takes a single step toward me. “I’ll use your body to get off.

I’ll use you to get revenge. But I won’t hurt you—or if I do, I promise you’ll like it,” he adds with the slightest twitch of his lips.

“And I’ll help you get free from your father and get Bane out of your life.

” He pauses as if letting all that sink in.

“Then I’ll cut you loose, Sasha. I’ll set you free. But you’re going to pay the price before I do, and the price is everything . Mind. Body. Soul.”

His gaze rakes over me in a way I fear will leave my skin burned.

“I’ll have you in my bed, Princess, and I intend to defile Victor Reed’s little girl in every way I can imagine.

I want to see that famous face contorted in passion.

I want to look down and watch you sucking my cock, with you knowing you’re locked in this tower with me. ”

He reaches for a hip-length lock of hair that has come free of the clips and pins. Slowly, he runs it through his fingers. “Those are my terms, Rapunzel. And they’re non-negotiable. Do you agree? Or should I take you back to the gala?”

I lift my chin and force myself to meet those cold eyes, trying to parse out what he really wants from me. It can’t be sex—this is a man who could have any woman he wants, which means he wants me for some other reason I don’t yet see.

I start to ask, then hold my tongue. Because in the end it doesn’t matter. I need him, and that’s the bottom line. But that bottom line is underscored by a single, horrible truth—whatever his motive, I want him, too.

I want to be touched by fingers other than my own.

I want to know what it feels like to be real, and not merely a pretty little dress-up doll.

“Everything,” I finally say, taking pride in the way his eyes widen just a bit in subtle proof that I’ve surprised him.

“Everything and nothing, and that’s fine by me.

” I slide my hands down the dress, then clutch the material, trying to keep them from shaking.

“You’re the devil, Grimm. But this is the one time the saying is wrong.

Because you’re the devil I don’t know. And compared to my father and Desmond Bane, you’re still the safer bet. ”

For a moment, he simply studies me. Then he nods.

“I’m glad we’ve reached an agreement. Make sure you stick to it.

Break my rules—push me away, disobey—and you’ll find yourself on the street.

” Amusement flickers over that sculpted face.

“Perhaps you should have held on to that ring, Princess. It could have bought a lot of groceries.”

“Stop calling me that,” I snap, irritated that I’d thought that very thing about the ring. But it had felt so damn good when I’d tossed it.

I glance at Grimm, expecting him to argue.

To say that he won himself a fairy tale princess, and that’s what he expects me to be.

Instead, he takes a step closer, everything about him exuding dark power as he says, “My rules, Princess. Unless this is your way of asking to be punished?” His gaze rakes over me. “And wouldn’t that be fun?”

I force myself not to tremble. But it’s not Liam Grimm who scares me. It’s my reaction. The unnerving, unexpected thrill that races up my spine. The way my nipples tighten. The heat that floods the secret parts of my body.

And all from the way he pronounced that one horrible word: punish.

Because he didn’t pronounce it like a man about to dole out a beating, but as a man about to give a caress.

I sag a little, realizing that my legs are trembling. Not surprising since I’ve barely eaten a bite today. Combine that with adrenaline and Liam Grimm, and it’s no wonder I’m unsteady.

“All right,” I say, forcing myself to keep my chin up and look him in the eye. “I accept your condition.”

“You’ll obey me?”

I give the slightest tilt of my chin, then meet his eyes, daring him to make me say it out loud. To my surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he gestures for me to take a seat in a plush armchair before heading to a bar on the far side of the room.

He looks back at me over his shoulder. “I believe your drink is Scotch?”

“I—yes. But how—?” I let the question hang there. Right then, I’m not sure I can handle the answer. Because as far as the world is concerned, I only drink white wine—and only at formal dinners or special events, like tonight’s gala.

That, of course, is my father’s depiction of me. In reality, Ruby and I discovered a love of Scotch when we were seventeen and she decided to start smuggling in various alcohols so we could try them out.

“Glenfiddich 50-Year-Old,” he says, handing me a glass with the golden liquid and a single ball of ice.

It’s a label I’d seen in my father’s liquor cabinet, and I’d been curious enough to look it up.

So I know that a bottle costs upwards of thirty grand.

It’s amazing how much mundane information you can learn from the Internet when you live your life inside a gilded cage.

Despite the content of my father’s bar, I’ve never had anything more expensive than the Dewars that Ruby smuggles in. How could I, since I have hardly any money of my own? Why would I need it, not being able to go into the world without an escort?

I lift the glass, eager to taste this rarefied treat, and not at all surprised that a man like Liam Grimm has such a bottle. He settles back into his chair, watching me in a way that makes this moment feel like a test. I take a casual sip and almost moan. It’s like I’m drinking liquid gold.

“Better than Dewars, isn’t it?”

“How did you?—?”

I cut off my question. I’m a quick study. Apparently, Grimm is, too. And it’s clear he’s been studying me.

He moves to the window. I watch as he taps the control on his watch. Immediately, the glass shifts back to transparent. Even from across the room, I feel the pressure of that emptiness against the glass.

He looks over his shoulder at the dark and deadly vista, standing so close I’m terrified the glass will fall away and he’ll be sucked out into the night.

Then his attention returns to me, and he holds out his hand. “Come here.”

Oh, hell no. I shake my head, my breath catching as cold tendrils of fear twist inside me.

“I thought we were clear about your position here. I say jump—you ask how high.”

I shake my head again.

“Very well. I’ll call your father. He can pick you up at the entrance to the garage.”

“You bastard.” My words are only a whisper, but they are heavy with loathing.

“I’ve been called worse. Now come here.”

It’s anger that pushes me to my feet. It’s fear that keeps me from moving.

He crosses to my side. “Two steps. Hold on to me.”

He takes my arm. I jerk it roughly away. “Prick.”

“You’re pissed? Good. Use it. Use it to fight your fear.”

“You goddamn, sanctimonious asshole,” I snap, turning so that I’m not only facing him, but so my back is to that terrifying void. “Why are you doing this? Do you just want to humiliate me? What the hell do you want from me?”

Panic rises in my chest as tears flood my eyes, making my vision blur. But not so much that I miss the tiny bit of sympathy that crosses his stone-chiseled features. It’s gone in an instant, so quickly I might have imagined it. But I didn’t.

It doesn’t erase the fear. It doesn’t make me trust him. But it does calm me. A little bit, anyway.

“It won’t suck you in,” he whispers, and I tense, shocked that he understands how I feel. And the truth is, he’s right. I know he’s right. I know perfectly well that I’m safe. That the glass won’t fall away. That I won’t be sucked into the dark.

That I won’t fall to a horrible death.

Except maybe I will.

I want to scream and run. I want to do what he says. I want to close my eyes and sleep for a hundred years, like a princess under a spell. But who knows what new horror I’d wake up to?

I turn back toward the window, my eyes on the floor, then take one more tiny step.

“Good girl,” he whispers, but I don’t know if it’s because he’s proud of me or because I just took the first step into whatever unseen plan he’s concocted.

Because, of course, he has a plan. And somehow, I’m at the center of it.

“Now two more,” he says, releasing my elbow. I go tense, immediately reaching for his hand. I expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t. “Two more,” he repeats, as I tighten my hold.

I draw a breath, then take one step toward the void.

“One more. But look up as you walk.”

But I can’t. The gaping maw is too close now. I feel its pull. Its hunger. Any closer, and I’ll fall in. I’ll lose myself in the dark. And I’ll never find my way back.

“No.” The word is a whisper, and I tilt my face down, concentrating on my satin shoes that peek out from under the hem of my dress. Shiny and white and festive, so unlike the night that wants to claim me.

“You can do this, Sasha.” His voice is firm and without pity. “If you want my protection against your father, you have to.”

My head snaps up. “Bastard.”

“In so many ways. Walk, Princess.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Too bad you’re not the one with the power. Now walk.”

Prick . But I don’t say that aloud. Instead, I swallow, my hand tightening around his as I force myself to look through the glass at the lights of the city, so like the lights that twinkle up in space. A vacuum. Unsurvivable.

But I have to do this. I need his help to stay hidden and protected from my father.

He starts to loosen his grip, but I squeeze tighter. Small windows I can handle. Mostly, anyway. But this expanse … it’s overwhelming. I’m still at least eight feet from the window, and I already feel like I’m about to teeter. Like I’m going to fall.

Just like my mother did.

Except she was pushed. You know she was pushed.

I shudder, and it’s only Grimm’s hand in mine that keeps me steady.

The irony isn’t lost on me.

I take one step, then another and another. I try to take one more, but my feet won’t move. My body is stone, and I close my eyes, terrified that he’s going to demand I open them and take two more steps. And like a hammer falling against a salt pillar, those words will shatter me completely.

Instead, his voice has a hint of gentleness when he says, “You did well. Open your eyes.”

I hesitate but comply, then sag with relief when I see that the windows are opaque again.

“Congratulations,” he says.

“Screw you,” I snap, but the words aren’t hard. I want them to be, but I’m too drained. And yet …

Despite the fear and exhaustion, there’s a tiny flicker of glee. Because I did it. I walked toward the void, and I wasn’t sucked into hell.

That’s good, right?

Then again, maybe I couldn’t get sucked into hell because I’m already here, trapped in Grimm Tower with the devil himself.