Page 135 of The Tower

“He’s only half-Grimm. And he hates most of them, too. Besides,” she continues before I can slide Leo into the conversation, “what matters is that Liam owned his fuck-up. Unlike certain other men we could name.”

“He was Killiam.”

“Oh, sweetie, I know it’s hard.” She reaches across the table for my hand.

“He was deliberately playing to my desires, knowing exactly what I wanted because he’d been watching me.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it was the real him, connecting with the real you without the baggage of your families’ feud. Without the walls both of you built in the real world.”

The thought is simultaneously terrifying and compelling. But the truth is, I’ve seen the real Liam, at least I think I have. And maybe she’s right. Because a lot of the things I love about him are the things that made Killiam so perfect.

Love.

Do I still.love him?

And even if I do, is that enough?

“I don’t know what to do,” I admit, the words barely audible.

Ruby squeezes my hand. “Yes, you do. You’re just scared.”

She’s right, of course. Beneath the anger and hurt, there’s a decision I’ve been circling since that first morning Liam showed up in my sitting room, his eyes haunted by exhaustion and remorse.

“What if I’m wrong?” I ask. “What if I forgive him and it happens again—different lie, same betrayal? Stealing my agency, my control, just like Father did?”

“That’s the risk with anyone,” Ruby points out. “But Sasha, think about what he did when he found out what your father was doing to you. He didn’t just expose it—he stood beside you through all of it. When Desmond was a threat, he protected you. When the press was hounding you, he shielded you. When you needed to escape, he rescued you.”

Put like that, the ledger seems more balanced than I’ve been willing to admit. Yes, Liam invaded my privacy and built a connection on deception. But he’s also been there for me in a way no one else ever has, not even Ruby.

“I need to think.”

Ruby nods. “For what it’s worth, I’ve never seen you as happy as you were with him in Connecticut. Not ever.”

The observation follows me back to Reed Tower, echoing in my mind as the elevator rises toward my suite. Happy. Was that what I felt in those peaceful days and passionate nights? The emotion seems too simple, too clean for the complex tangle of feelings Liam Grimm inspires in me. But beneath the complications, Ruby’s right. I was happy with him. Hell, I was blissful.

Could I be again, knowing what I know now?

As I step into my suite, I find a note waiting on the coffee table, written in Liam’s precise handwriting:

Can we talk over breakfast? - L

I stare at it, still trying to parse out my emotions, trying to truly weigh everything Ruby and I talked about. I’m still unsure. Am I ready to move beyond anger, to hear him out, to consider the possibility of forgiveness?

I pick up the note, running my fingers over the paper, imagining him writing it, hoping I’ll respond. Imagining him returning to whatever sterile hotel room he’s staying in, waiting for a sign that not everything is lost.

Making my decision, I reach for a pen.

Forty-One

Surrender

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries surrounds me when I emerge from the bedroom the next morning. For a moment, I’m transported back to Connecticut—to lazy mornings on the terrace, watching mist rise from the valley below, Liam’s presence a steady comfort beside me.

But this isn’t Connecticut. This is Reed Tower, and the man arranging breakfast on my dining table carries the weight of betrayal on his shoulders, visible in the careful precision of his movements, in the tension that shows when he hears me enter.

He turns, and the hope in his eyes is so naked that I almost look away. I’ve never seen Liam Grimm like this—uncertain, exposed, stripped of the control he wears like armor.

“Good morning.” His voice is carefully neutral despite the emotion evident in his expression.