Page 117 of The Tower

“Where’s he going?” I whisper to Liam.

“Not sure,” he replies, his expression thoughtful. “But Bane doesn’t waste time on lost causes. If he’s leaving …”

I catch his meaning immediately. “You think my father isn’t coming.”

“It’s possible. Bane is nothing if not pragmatic.” A hint of satisfaction creeps into Liam’s voice. “Rats and sinking ships.”

A chill runs through me at the implication. If my father isn’t here to defend himself …

Jack Granger, our lead attorney, waits for us in a small conference room, surrounded by stacks of documents and several associates.

“There you are,” he says, rising to his feet. Silver-haired and impeccably dressed, Jack exudes confidence like expensive cologne. “Quite the crowd out there.”

“Is my father here?” I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.

Jack’s expression shifts slightly. “No sign of him yet. His legal team arrived about twenty minutes ago, but Reed himself hasn’t been seen.”

Something cold and heavy settles in my stomach. “What does that mean?”

“It could mean many things,” Jack says, his words measured. “Most likely, he’s planning a strategic entrance. Or perhaps he’s trying to avoid the press.”

Liam’s jaw tightens. “Or he’s planning something else entirely.”

Jack nods, his expression grim. “We’ve filed additional motions this morning in light of the evidence from Dr. Chen. If Reed doesn’t appear, we’re prepared to argue for an immediate ruling in your favor, along with a referral to the district attorney’s office for criminal charges.”

The words wash over me, technical and distant. All I can think about is my father’s absence. This isn’t like him—he never concedes a battlefield, never surrenders control.

“What if he wins?” I whisper, voicing my deepest fear. “What if the judge believes him?”

Liam moves closer, his voice dropping so only I can hear. “That won’t happen. But even if it does, I won’t let him take you back. Ever. I told you. I promise you that.”

I don’t answer, but I hold his hand tighter, feeling safer in the circle of his protection.

“I’m going to check on something,” Ruby says, squeezing my hand once more before slipping out of the room. Her absence leaves a void, and I fight the urge to call her back, to keep my small circle of allies close.

We take our seats around the small table, and Jack continues briefing us on the legal strategy, but the words blur together. I focus instead on breathing, on keeping the rising panic at bay. In a few hours, my life will change irrevocably. Either I’ll be free of my father’s control forever, or I’ll be legally declared incompetent, placed under his guardianship, and dragged back to a prison of medication and forced compliance.

“Sasha?” Liam’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. “Did you hear what Jack asked?”

I blink, focusing on the attorney’s concerned face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked if you’re prepared for the possibility that your father might make accusations against Mr. Grimm,” Jack repeats. “He may try to paint your relationship as coercive, suggest that you’ve been manipulated or even drugged.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “That would be ironic.”

“Indeed,” Jack agrees with a slight smile. “But the court needs to hear the truth from you—that you left willingly, that Mr. Grimm has been protecting you, not controlling you.”

The truth. Such a simple concept, yet so complicated in this situation. I did leave willingly with Grimm, but our arrangement was hardly straightforward. And while he hasn’t controlled me the way my father did, there was a bargain struck, a price to be paid.

Everything.

But that was then. Now, looking at Grimm—at the tension in his jaw, the concern in his eyes—I see with perfect clarity how much has changed between us. Whatever his initial motives, whatever price he demanded, what exists between us now is something else entirely.

“I’ll tell the truth,” I say firmly. “All of it.”

Jack nods, satisfied, and returns to his documents. Liam’s hand finds mine under the table, his fingers interlacing with my own in a gesture that feels simultaneously possessive and supportive.

Ruby returns, her face flushed with excitement. “You’re not going to believe this,” she says, closing the door behind her. “The staff from Reed Tower—I mean, a lot of them—they’re here. In the courtroom. Mr. Williams, Anita, at least a dozen more. Grannie, too, of course.”