Page 151 of The Tower

“Ms. Reed! How do you feel about the verdict?”

“Mr. Grimm! Any comment on Bane’s threats during the trial?”

“Sasha! What’s next for Lydia Cosmetics?”

I stop on the steps, letting them capture their moment as Liam stands like a sentinel beside me. His midnight blue suit was my pick this morning—it makes his eyes look like something that could drown you.

“Justice has been served,” I say, keeping it simple. “Now we move forward. Together.”

They eat it up, shouting more questions as security clears a path to the waiting car. Once the door slams behind us, I let out a breath that feels like I’ve been holding it for years.

“Nice,” Liam says, and I can hear the pride under the word.

I smile at him. He knows I don’t need coaching on how to handle reporters. It’s one of the few useful skills my father accidentally taught me. How to lie with a smile. How to look confident even when my insides are liquid. How to keep your shit together when the world is watching.

The difference now is that I get to take the mask off when the cameras stop rolling. I get to be just Sasha—whoever the hell that is—with the people who matter.

As the car pulls away from the courthouse, I feel the adrenaline crash hitting me hard, leaving something else behind. Something hot and electric that makes my skin feel two sizes too small. I look over at Liam and find his eyes already on me, dark with something that makes my pulse skip.

“What?” I ask, though I know damn well what that look means by now.

“You were fucking incredible in there,” he says, his voice dropping to that register that always makes me shiver. “So damn strong. So in control.”

“I had good reason to be,” I tell him, sliding closer, my eyes checking that the privacy screen is up out of habit.

His hand finds my thigh, fingers pressing just hard enough through my skirt to remind me of how strong this man is. “You drive me crazy when you’re like that,” he murmurs. “All powerful and untouchable.”

I lean in closer, my lips almost brushing his ear. “Bet you’d like to touch me now though.”

His grip tightens, and I can feel the restraint in him—the control that’s always there, even when it looks like it’s slipping. “Tell the driver to take us to the Celestial,” he says, voice rough. “We need to properly celebrate before we head home.”

The hotel’s just a few blocks away—our own little hideout in the city where nobody gives a damn about the way his hand curls possessively around my elbow in the elevator, or how my body can’t seem to keep a respectable distance from his.

The second our suite door closes, Liam’s got me pinned against it, his mouth on mine with a hunger that leaves me dizzy. There’s an edge to him today, something darker than usual that I know has everything to do with seeing Bane, with watching the man who tried to steal what’s his.

“Do you know how fucking hard it was not to kill him when I had the chance?”

I tilt my head back, giving him better access for the kisses he’s trailing down my neck. “You did the right thing.”

His teeth scrape my collarbone, sending bolts of electricity straight to my core. “Did I?” His hands are already attacking my blouse buttons. “When that piece of shit looked at you in court, I wanted to tear his goddamn throat out.”

It should scare me, this violence that lives under his skin. Instead, it lights me up like a match to gasoline. This dangerous, lethal man chose me. Chose to put my needs above his darkest instincts. It’s heady and delicious and fucking sexy as hell.

“You’re mine,” he says, shoving my blouse off my shoulders. “And nobody’s ever taking you from me.”

“Never,” I agree, my fingers fumbling with his belt. “I’m yours. Only yours.”

We don’t even make it to the bedroom. He lifts me onto the console table, knocking over some fancy vase that crashes to the floor. My skirt’s up around my waist, and I hear the delicate rip of expensive silk as he tears my underwear away.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he admits, dangling the ruined scrap from his fingers. “From the second you put on that prim little court outfit.”

I laugh as his mouth crushes mine again. That’s what I love about us—how we can switch from intensity to playfulness and back again in a heartbeat.

“Anything else you’ve been wanting to do?” I ask, my voice innocent as I, wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a length of silk I recognize as one of his ties. “Turn around.”

The word sends heat flooding through me. I slide off the table and turn to face it as he pulls my wrists behind my back, binding them together with the tie. The position forces me to arch, pushing my chest forward.