Page 107 of The Tower

There’s an edge in his voice—he probably wasn’t expecting computer time in a honeymoon suite—but I want to share this with him. I want to show him how much I’ve come to trust him. With my life, and with my secrets.

“It’s a virtual world I created. A place where I could be free, even when I was locked in Reed Tower.” I log in, smiling as the familiar gateway appears, the verdant landscape spread out beyond.

“Sasha … this is impressive.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet. I’ve been building it since I was fifteen.”

He leans forward, his expression unreadable as he studies the screen. On it, Vale stands at the gates, a confident, bolder version of myself. Or she used to be. Now, I think I may be catching up to her.

I show him all of it, explaining how there’s even a sensory component. “It’s been my true home for years.”

“It’s amazing.” It’s clear from his tone that he means it. My chest tightens, and in that moment, I realize how much his approval means to me.

“It started as a garden,” I tell him. “Just a small space where I could escape. Now it’s … well, you can see.”

“You’ve done incredible work here,” he says. “How far does the world extend?”

“Quite a long way, and I’m adding to it all the time. There’s something I want to ask you,” I admit, after a slight hesitation.

He sits up a bit straighter, looking a tiny bit surprised. “Okay. Shoot.”

I nod. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking … there might be commercial applications, but I don’t know how to pursue any of that. Things like VR therapy for people with phobias like mine. Safe spaces for trauma survivors. Even just entertainment. Maybe monetize it. Sell parcels of virtual land or build a marketplace for real-time trading. I don’t know. I have a lot of ideas to cull through.”

He looks at me, his focus shifting from the screen to my face. “You want my help turning it into a business?”

“I think so. Maybe? I don’t know the first thing about monetizing something like this.”

“And I do.”

I nod. “That’s why I want your advice.” I hesitate, suddenly aware of his proximity, the warmth radiating from his body. The way he’s looking at me now has nothing to do with business plans or monetization strategies.

His eyes drop to my lips for a fraction of a second before meeting my gaze again.

“We can talk about all that after the hearing,” he says, his voice softer now.

I close the laptop. “You don’t want to discuss it now?”

His hand finds mine, fingers intertwining with a casual intimacy that sends a flutter through my stomach. “Sasha,” he says, my name like velvet on his tongue, “do you really want to talk business right now?”

The question hangs between us, loaded with meaning. We’ve been dancing around this tension, this pull between us that goes beyond our arrangement, beyond the terms of our deal.

“No,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “That’s not what I want.”

He reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering against my cheek. “What do you want?”

The air between us feels charged, electric with possibility. All the restraint of the past, all my stubborn resistance to his begging rule—it all feels distant now, less important than the need building inside me.

“You,” I say simply, surprising myself with my directness. “I want you.”

His eyes darken at my admission, his thumb brushing my lower lip. “Do you remember what I told you?” he asks, his voice dropping to that register that sends heat pooling low in my belly. “About how to get what you want?”

I nod.

His eyes light with a predatory gleam that sends a dark thrill racing through me. He lifts his hand to my face, his palm warm against my skin as his thumb traces my lower lip in a way that makes it impossible to think clearly. I lean into his touch, my body responding to him with a need that’s been building since the moment he laid down his rule.

His kiss is gentle at first, a question rather than a demand. But when I respond, leaning into him, something breaks loose inside him. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against him as the kiss deepens into something hungry and fierce.

We’ve done this before—the heat, the urgency, the desperate coming together of bodies—but tonight feels different. Not just heat, but need. Not a need for sex, but a need for him. As if I’ll die in this moment if I can’t have this man. Liam Grimm.