Page 115 of The Tower

The intensity in his voice should frighten me. Instead, it makes me feel strangely anchored, as if I’ve finally found solid ground after years adrift.

“How can you be so certain?” I ask.

Something flickers across his face—a shadow I can’t quite identify. “Because I don’t lose.”

It’s hardly a romantic declaration, but there’s something in the way he says it—in the possessive gleam in his eyes—that makes my pulse quicken. This man, with all his darkness and determination, has positioned himself between me and my father. Whether it’s for revenge or something more doesn’t seem to matter quite as much anymore.

“My knight in tarnished armor,” I say, trying to lighten the moment.

His mouth quirks up at one corner. “More like the dragon who stole the princess.”

“I went willingly, remember?”

“Did you?” His voice drops, his hand sliding down my side to rest on my hip. “Even knowing what I wanted from you?”

Everything. The word hangs between us, unspoken but almost tangible.

“Yes,” I say, meeting his gaze. “I knew exactly what I was agreeing to.”

He studies me for a long moment, as if trying to read something written in a language he’s only starting to understand. Then he leans down and kisses me—not the heated, desperate kiss of before, but something gentler, almost reverent.

When he pulls back, there’s a vulnerability in his eyes I’ve never seen. He masks it quickly, but I caught it—a glimpse behind the armor he wears so effortlessly.

“We should get ready,” he says, voice deliberately casual as he slides from the bed. “Jack will be waiting with the legal team.”

I watch him move across the room, morning light sculpting his naked body into something that belongs in a museum. The sight of him still makes my breath catch, even after everything we’ve shared.

He pauses at the bathroom door. “Whatever happens today,” he says, voice low and serious, “remember that he can’t hurt you anymore. Not while I’m here.”

The words settle over me like a blanket, warm and comforting. It’s not a declaration of love—not even close. But it’s a promise of protection, of standing together against whatever comes. And right now, that feels like exactly what I need.

As I hear the shower start, I stretch lazily, savoring the pleasant ache in muscles that have been thoroughly used. Today, my father faces justice for what he’s done. Today, the world learns the ugly truth behind Reed Cosmetics’ perfect princess.

Today, I take back my life.

And with Liam Grimm at my side—this complicated, dangerous man who’s become my unlikely ally—I might actually have a chance of winning.

I slide from the bed and pad toward the bathroom, steam already billowing from the door. One more moment of connection before we face the storm that’s coming. One more chance to feel alive and chosen, rather than controlled and used.

Tomorrow, I’ll worry about what happens next.

But for now, I step into the shower and into Liam’s waiting arms, surrendering to the moment and to the man who’s turned my world upside down.

For better or worse, we’re in this together.

Thirty-Six

Ex Parte

REED HEIRESS AND GRIMM BLACK SHEEP: ROMANCE OR REVENGE?

The headline screams at me from a dozen tablets and phones as the town car pulls into the courthouse parking lot. Apparently, our kiss at Alexander’s party made quite the splash. Beneath the lurid text is a photo of Liam and me on the rooftop, his hand cupping my face, my body leaning into his, our lips meeting in a kiss that looks far more cinematic than it felt at the time.

“Well, they certainly aren’t shying away from being bold,” Liam says, his voice carefully casual as he scans the massive crowd gathered outside.

My hands twist in my lap, anxiety tightening in my chest. I’d expected reporters, of course. Even a few curious onlookers. What I hadn’t anticipated was this—dozens, maybe hundreds, of people lining the walkway to the courthouse steps, many holding handmade signs.

SASHA STRONG