Annie,

I got a care package from your friend Elliot’s family yesterday. His mom (that’s who Grace is, right?) sent a ton of baked goods that have made me a very popular man. We missed a shipment last week and our food situation is not the most appetizing right now, mostly MREs, so being able to pass out muffins and cookies to the guys has really lifted the morale. Be sure to thank her for me, okay?

Katie also put in a letter catching me up on her life, and I really appreciated that. She’s always been such a good friend to you, and I think I’m going to send her a letter to let her know that I’m proud of the woman she’s grown into. I don’t have an address for her, but I can send it to you, right? Are you living with her this summer?

I’ve never met Elliot, but I’m looking forward to doing just that. He seems like a guy I could get along with. He sent me all the details of what’s happened with the ‘Hawks this off season. Why didn’t you tell me we got a new coach?! I mean, Pete Carroll did amazing things at USC but he wasn’t great when he was in the NFL. Can’t be worse than Jim Mora though. 4-12 last season? I still haven’t lived that down with the guys over here… Especially since four of the guys in my squad are Saints fans. It’s been rough… haha. Do me a favor, if you see Hasselbeck while you’re in Seattle, give him a pep-talk for me, okay?

I hope your internship is going well. I was almost floored when you told me all about it on the phone last month, I can’t believe how well you’re doing for yourself. I’ve been bragging about you a little bit (okay, a lot), and I think some of the other guys are a little jealous about how well my daughter is doing. Especially since McCurdy just got a letter from his wife saying his eighteen year old daughter is pregnant so she’s not going to school in the fall. I’m so glad you never got mixed up in anything like that. I worried about it, being from a small town, but you had a level head on your shoulders and focused on getting into Harvard and then dedicated yourself to being the best you can be. You really make me proud, Annie. I’m still holding out hope that I’m going to get back to the States in time to see you accept your degree, although I’m not sure you’ll want me there. Would you get embarrassed by seeing your old man cry in public?

Anyway, I wrote to tell you that things are getting a little rough over here. It was looking like it was dying down and we might even get sent home before our tour was finished, but then some new group came up on our radar with some kind of new insurgency. They’ve started attacking American soldiers and some of the infrastructure we’ve put in place here, so I’m not sure we’re going anywhere. Not for a while at least. They’re still underground, but they seem to have a network with another country that I can’t really tell you about, but it means that I’m heading out of Baghdad and going to a more remote area for the next few months where we won’t really have access to the mail system. I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to write you again, or if I’ll get any of your letters, so if I don’t talk to you for a while, I don’t want you to worry.

I love you, and I miss you, and I can’t wait to get home and wrap my arms around you again. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell you enough how proud I am of you, Annie. I think about you every day, and you never fail to put a smile on my face.

Love you,

Dad

I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to pull myself together. I’m supposed to be getting ready for Mia’s opening night at Seattle Center, but the stress from work and all this legal trouble, and now the feeling of regret I have over reading my Dad’s letter is bubbling uncontrollably out of my eyes. I’ve been so busy and distracted over the past few weeks, I’ve only written one letter to my dad and I only responded to the questions he asked, assured him I was doing fine, and attached a few pictures. I thought I had so much more time to write to him about all of the things I want to tell him, and to figure out a way to say all the things I’m not sure I want to tell him, but apparently, that’s not the case.

I look up at my reflection and try to blink away my tears. I’m already running late and I’m not really close to being ready. I need to focus and get through tonight. I can deal with this later…

I shake my head as I reach for the makeup I’ve already spread out over the counter and get started on my face. Compartmentalization is my entire life right now.

I lean over the counter and start dabbing concealer under my eyes, trying to hide the puffiness left over from crying, but am distracted by a knock on the door behind me. I look up and see Taylor’s reflection in the mirror.

“Oh,” I say, surprised, and then quickly look down to make sure my robe is still fully closed since I don’t think Christian would appreciate Taylor getting a view of me naked in the bathroom. Thankfully, it is. “Is Christian home yet?” I ask him.

“Not yet, Miss Steele. Ryan called and said he’s still in a meeting with Miss Bailey, but they should be home soon.”

“Okay,” I nod, actually feeling a little relieved. At least I won’t be the reason we’re late…

“You have a visitor, Miss Steele,” Taylor says and I furrow my brow and turn around.

“A visitor? Who?’

“Luke. He’s waiting in the foyer.”

I bite down on my lip as I decide what to do. I haven’t seen Luke since that night we caught Elena, and I don’t really want to turn him away without at least saying hi and apologizing for being so distant, but I don’t have time to sit down and have a real talk with him.

“Okay, give me two minutes to get dressed and then send him in here,” I tell him. He nods and turns around as I set the concealer back down on the counter and hurry out of the bathroom for our closet. The dress Christian’s personal shopper had sent over this morning is hanging on the door in the closet and, because I haven’t seen it yet, I nervously pull open the zipper on the bag to peak inside. It looks fairly basic, no intricate designs or excessive bling. Just soft, black fabric.

I pull the dress off the hanger and hastily slip it over my head. The slit on the dress goes pretty high up my thigh and the thin halter neckline leaves little to the imagination, but the classic tailoring is elegant and the neckline covers all of my cleavage so I don’t feel overly exposed.

I reach up, trying to connect the clasp around the back of my neck to secure the dress, but I can’t figure it out. My fingers fumble clumsily with the complicated closure, getting nowhere, when there is a knock on the door behind me.

“Need some help?” Luke asks.

“Thanks,” I reply. He crosses the room, takes the straps from me, and easily fixes them together. I turn around and smile at him gratefully.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called,” I say, motioning for him to follow me back into the bathroom. He sits on the counter as I slide my robe back on to protect my dress while I finish my makeup.

“It’s cool. I’ve been following all the press you and Grey have been dealing with, I can’t imagine that’s been easy. How are you holding up?”

I take a deep breath and lower my foundation brush as tears prick in my eyes again. Unfortunately I can’t hold back the wave of emotion that hits me, so rather than answer him, I cover my mouth to muffle my broken sob.

“Shit, Ana…” Luke says guiltily. “I didn’t mean… I mean, I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it. I wasn’t trying to make you cry.”

“No, it’s not you,” I say, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “I’m sorry. I got a letter from my dad today and it’s made me all emotional.”

“He’s okay, right?”

“Right now, but he says they’re moving him to a more remote area. He’s not going to be able to write me for… I don’t even know how long.”

“Have you told him about Grey yet?” He asks.

“No,” I say, feeling the wash of shame again. “I’ve been trying. I started a letter that I’ve probably re-written eight different times, but it’s still in my desk at work. There’s just so much to say and I want it to be perfect, to be able to explain everything the right way… Then all this business with the trial started and-“

My voice chokes off and Luke reaches out and places his hand over mine. “What’s going on, Ana?”

“I’m scared, Luke,” I whisper.

“Why?” He asks. I shake my head and start with the makeup again.

“I’ve just had this bad feeling about the trial and I can’t shake it. I think Christian’s going to go to prison, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“And you don’t want to tell your dad about him if he’s going to be in jail when he comes home?” Luke infers. I take a breath and shake my head.

“That’s not something my dad would ever look past or understand. He’s a military man, he’s kind of black and white when it comes to the rule of law.”

“So… why is he doing it then?” Luke asks. “Grey, I mean. He’s the one who filed suit, right? He could drop it. I mean… he’s only connected to the club through the salons, isn’t he? Why doesn’t he just close them down? She can’t launder money without the salons, I’m sure she’ll get caught eventually.”

“He’s doing it because of Mia,” I croak, as I try to fight back tears again. “Elena crossed a line, Luke. I don’t know if he’d be able to let it go if she hadn’t gotten Mia involved… maybe he could have just closed the salons and we could have moved on, but she did, and now he’s willing to go to prison if that’s what it takes to get revenge for what she did to his little sister.” I look up as I feel a tear roll down my cheek. “He’s not thinking about himself, he’s not thinking about his company… he’s only thinking about Mia and I’m scared I’m going to lose him.”

“Hey…” Luke says, jumping off the counter and taking me into his arms. “It’s gonna be okay, Ana. His dad’s a lawyer, right? I’m sure they’ll figure something out.”

“I don’t know,” I say shaking my head. “I’ve lost a lot of my ability to hope when it comes to Elena Lincoln.”

“Well, whatever happens… you’ll always have me, and Kate, and Elliot. You’re not alone, Ana.”

“He’s the love of my life, Luke. Losing him last time nearly destroyed me. I can’t do it again, not like this. I want him. I want a wedding and I want kids… I want a life with him. He’s finally come around and seen Elena for what she is, and we’ve moved on. This is the part where we’re supposed to get our happy ending. He had nothing to do with this, he didn’t know it was happening. He shouldn’t have to pay for it. He loves me, and I love him, but I’m going to lose my future with Christian because of her, and it’s not fair.”

“Ana… I-” Luke begins, but he stops as I really begin to cry, and reaches out for some more tissues. I take them gratefully and then turn back for the mirror, trying to salvage my make up the best I can.

“You really don’t think it’s going to go well?” Luke asks and I shrug.

“I just really don’t know, but nothing good ever happens when she’s involved,” I tell him.

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe I could…”

“Ana?” I look up in the mirror and see Christian standing in the bathroom door. Luke turns abruptly, looking as though he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t, and then gives me an uneasy glance.

“I’ll… call you later. Okay, Ana?” He says.

“Sure,” I nod. “See you later, Luke.”

Christian steps aside to let Luke out of the bathroom, and once he’s gone, he turns back to me and frowns.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Nothing,” I reply, shaking my head. “It’s just stress…”

“Baby…” He says, and he closes the door behind him and takes my hand, pulling me into him. “I know this is hard, but I’m doing everything I can. I promise you, I’m not going to give up without a fight. I won’t let her win.”

“I know,” I nod. I want to talk to him about how scared I am to lose him, but worrying about me and what all of this is doing to me, isn’t what’s best for him right now. We made this decision together, he’s moving forward and I need to be part of his support system. Knowing how terrified I am will only hurt him more and make this harder on him than it already is.

“I’m going to take a shower,” He says, kissing my hair. “Will you be ready to leave in twenty minutes?”

“Yes,” I nod. He releases me so that I can turn back for the mirror and he can make his way to the shower.

There are cameras lining the walkway up to the main entry again when we pull up in front of Seattle Center half an hour later. Christian steps out of the back of the Maybach first and then turns to reach down for my hand to help me out of the car. I take a deep breath and then smile as we walk up the walkway towards the main entrance. There is a woman standing at the end of the carpet and, once we’re about halfway up the walk, she smiles and then holds her hand up in a gesture for us to stop. Christian takes a deep breath, puts his hand on my waist so that he can pull me into his side, and then turns to face the flashing lights. I do my best to keep my smile as I turn to face each of the shouts that echo around us, but I’ve had to become so numb tonight, I’m not certain what my face is doing right now.

We stand there for only a second before Christian takes my hand again and leads me up the stairs towards the main entrance. The inside is architecturally beautiful, slightly industrial looking glass and steel. The red, carpeted floors are packed with people in eveningwear milling about and several of them turn to Christian with looks of delighted surprise as we make our way towards the theater entrance. He introduces me to several people, some with names I recognize, others I don’t. Each brief conversation focuses on business or offers for games of golf. Christian is polite, graciously accepting their invitations, but he inevitably pushes me away from each new person very quickly.

We find the rest of his family huddled together near the temporary bar serving champagne near the entrance and Grace smiles broadly once she spots us and immediately waves us over to them.

“How’s Mia doing?” Christian asks, accepting the glass of champagne the waiter hands him, and nodding politely in gratitude, before turning back to his mother.

“Cool as a cucumber,” She says proudly. “She’s been working so hard this week. I think it’s been really good for her to get her mind off everything.”

“Good,” Christian nods. He takes a sip of his drink while Kate proudly displays the sapphire and diamond bracelet Elliot bought for her to celebrate having their offer accepted on a new house.

“I uh… I found out who Elena has representing her.” Carrick says, sounding uneasy as I suppose he isn’t sure this is the best place to discuss trial business.

“Who?” Christian asks.

“Anne Novik,” He grimaces. “She’s good. She used to be the lead prosecutor for the state of Washington before she became a defense attorney. My old partner went against her once and she made him look like some hack from legal aide.”

Christian nods and takes another long drink of his champagne. I reach out for his hand, trying to look reassuring, as we hear a loud voice echo through the hall behind us.

“Grace!” A woman with umber colored hair calls. She waves animatedly as she walks towards us. “Oh dear, it’s simply been too long.”

Grace smiles and accepts her hug and the kiss on the cheek the woman gives her, then steps back to glance over her outfit.

“What a beautiful dress, Constance,” She says, and the woman waves off the compliment but looks extremely pleased with herself.

“This old thing, I’ve had it forever,” She replies dismissively. “And, hello again, Carrick. It’s good to see you.”

“You as well,” Carrick replies politely, but he gives a sideways look to Elliot that says he has no idea who this woman is.

“These are my children,” Grace says, gesturing the Christian and Elliot. “Their sister Mia is performing in tonight’s show, but this is Elliot and Christian. Boys, this is Constance Sinclair, she’s on the board of the Seattle Arts Commission with me.”

“Pleasure,” Constance says, nodding disinterestedly at Elliot before turning to Christian. “But of course I know who you are, Mr. Grey. We met at the gallery opening for Aivakovsky last spring, remember?”

“Of course,” Christian smiles, reaching out to shake her hand.

“I didn’t realize Grace was your mother,” She smiles. “I’d have asked her to get you on board with a number of projects the Arts Commission has been trying to get off the ground for months now.”

“Perhaps that’s why I kept her a secret,” Christian winks, and Constance let’s out a false laugh before turning back to Grace.

“You have a lovely family, dear. I hope we can all get together at the club sometime and maybe discuss some…”

“Oh my god,” I gasp, interrupting Ms. Sinclair as I see a flash of very unwelcome blonde hair over Carrick’s shoulder.

“What?” Christian asks, looking down at me with concern, and I nod subtly in the other direction.

“Elena is here,” I say quietly. I feel Elliot tense next to me immediately as he catches sight of her too, but when he turns to hand his glass of champagne to Kate so he can turn and begin walking towards her, Carrick reaches out to stop him.

“Don’t make a scene,” He says carefully. Elliot takes a deep breath to calm himself but I can see a tremble rock through him as he forces himself to stay put.

“I’m sorry, what…?” Constance says, looking puzzled as she glances at each of the Grey men, who all have noticeably changed their postures to reflect their tension.

“Come with me, Constance,” Grace says. She manages to smile as she reaches out to wrap her arm over Ms. Sinclair’s shoulder, but her voice is tight with barely controlled anger. It’s in that moment I have to wonder if Grace is removing Constance from her family, or removing herself from Elena.

“Let’s go inside,” Elliot hisses, but Christian shakes his head.

“No, I don’t want her anywhere Mia. We need to have someone remove her,” He says sharply.

“And how are you going to do that?” Kate asks.

“I’m Christian Grey,” He says flatly and, as Kate rolls her eyes, I glance up again and see that Elena has definitely noticed us standing here.

“She’s coming over here,” I whisper quickly. Christian turns to look at her again and then takes a deep, bracing breath as he wraps his hand around mine and subtly places himself mostly in front of me.

“Hello,” Elena says, smiling sweetly when she finally approaches us. “Don’t you all just look like quite the perfect family tonight.”

“What are you doing here, Elena?” Carrick asks, his voice tight and she lets out a soft laugh and shakes her head like he’s missing something obvious.

“It’s little Mia’s opening night. She’s told me all summer about how hard she’s worked on this show, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. She is my god daughter after all…”

Elliot yanks his hand out of Kate’s and takes a step forward, but Carrick moves quickly into his path, blocking his way. Elena laughs again and then turns to Christian.

“I want to talk to you,” She says, the first note of seriousness to her tone. Christian shakes his head.

“You can go to hell.”

“Christian,” She pouts. “This is all getting very messy and I know that’s not what you want. Just give me 10 minutes. We can work all of this out.”

“I’m not interested in working things out with you, Elena,” Christian says darkly. “The only thing I’m interested in is seeing you go to prison for what you’ve done to my little sister.”

“You’re not going to get that, Christian,” Elena replies, speaking to him now as if he were a child. “Trust me, this, what I’m trying to do right now, is about you, not me. I’m trying to protect you. I don’t want this to turn out badly for you, but it will unless you drop this foolish lawsuit and we all forget any of this nonsense happened.”

“That’s not going to happen,” He says and she sighs.

“This is your last chance, Christian. Please don’t make me hurt you.”

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” Someone says behind me, and I turn around to see a burly looking security guard looking sternly down at Elena. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”

“For what reason?” Elena snaps.

“It seems your ticket to tonight’s performance is no longer valid. I’m here to escort you off the premises.”

Elena’s mouth pops open with mortified shock, but she quickly regains her composure and gives each of us an indignant, slightly haughty look before gripping onto the long skirt of her gown and storming angrily away. Before she’s out of earshot though, she turns back to Christian one last time.

“You’ve done this to yourself,” She says viciously, and then she turns again and disappears into the crowd of people now making their way into the theater. We stand there for a few minutes, looking at each other with confusion as we all wonder what just happened.

“Shall we find our seats?” Grace asks, slipping her arm through Carrick’s when she rejoins us again.

“Did you…?” Elliot asks, and Grace smiles at him.

“I’m on the board,” She says simply, and then she steps back, tugging gently on Carrick’s arm to lead him back into the theater.

“Ready?” Christian asks, holding his arm out for me. I smile and nod, then clasp my fingers around the inside of his elbow as we follow after his parents. Before we step onto the balcony level though, I shoot one more nervous glance towards the main entrance, like I expect Elena to be standing there, staring through the glass at us like the grim reaper.

Not very long after we take our seats, the lights dim and the music begins to rise from the orchestra pit in front of the stage. Christian hands me a program and while the first fluttering of lights appear on the stage, I quickly glance down at the green font that looks as though it’s made of vines and spells out the words, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The cast list is on the inside cover and I quickly find Mia’s name.

 

Peaseblossom (fairy) ……………………………………………. Amelia Trevelyan-Grey

 

“There she is,” Christian whispers. I look up as Mia dances towards center stage. Her costume is stunning, different shades of pinks, greens, blues, and white tangled together in the the graceful cloud of her billowy skirt. Her hair is rolled up into a tight bun, but adorned with soft white flowers. Her makeup is fantastical with glitter and long swirling lines around her eyes that drip down her face. And, when she stands on the very tips of her toes and spins, the delicate fairy wings on her back seem to flutter.

I smile as I follow her around the stage with my eyes. It’s very hard to pay attention to the story or the music, I’m so enraptured by her dancing. About half way through the second act, when Mia briefly takes center stage to perform a jump and an elaborate spin, I chance a glance at Christian, who is fully engrossed in the show. He’s smiling absentmindedly down at the stage, his eyes alight with wonder as he watches his sister spin again and then hold her leg high into the air where she holds it for a long time in an impressive show of strength and balance. Once she seamlessly eases into the background again, he glances down at me with a look of such pride that I can’t help but beam back up at him.

“That was amazing!” Kate says, when we step back out into the main foyer after the ballet ends. “Did you see that leap Mia did in the second act? You should have put that girl in gymnastics, Grace.”

“She was wonderful, wasn’t she?” Grace replies. There is a smudge of mascara in the crook of her eye from wiping away tears.

“Definitely Juilliard material,” Elliot says pointedly towards his father.

“Christian!” Mia’s excited voice rings through the crowd and we all turn to see her bounding up towards us, sending small showers of glitter onto the red carpet with each bouncing step. Christian turns and holds his arms open for her and she hugs him tightly. “You’re here! I wasn’t sure you would come.”

“Of course I’m here,” He says, “It’s your opening night, where else would I be?” She grins up at him for a moment and then turns to her mother, who immediately begins to shower her with praise.

“We should do something to celebrate such a successful opening night,” Carrick suggests, “What do you think?”

“Yes!” Mia says, “We absolutely should.”

“Have you eaten, dear?” Grace asks. “Perhaps we can take you out to dinner?”

“Oooh, at that place on the water with the lobster bisque that I like?” She replies.

“Where ever you want to go,” Grace says.

“Uh… are you sure we should go out and eat in public?” Elliot asks nervously. “I mean, with the paparazzi following Christian everywhere…”

“It’s Mia’s night,” Christian says, “You should go where she wants to go. Anastasia and I can head home…”

“No!” Mia exclaims. “I want everyone there. It won’t be any fun without you and Ana.”

“Why don’t we bring everyone back to Escala?” I ask, looking up at Christian. “It’s closer than Bellevue and we could make something to eat at home.”

“Is that okay with you?” Christian asks Mia and she nods.

Grace and Carrick hang back to wait for Mia while she changes out of her costume, and Christian leads me out towards the front where Taylor has brought the car around. Kate and Elliot have to wait for the valet, so Christian and I get home with a few minutes to ourselves. I think he has a different idea than I do about what that means because when I head into the kitchen and begin pulling things out of the cabinets and cupboards to begin making a late dinner for everyone, he looks severely disappointed.

“I can have Gail do this,” He says, coming up behind me, placing his hands on my hips, and kissing my neck.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind,” I reply.

“I do though. You look a little uncomfortable in this dress… why don’t we go find something more suitable for you to change into. In the bedroom. Right now.”

I laugh. “Because, as coy as you’re being Mr. Grey, I can decipher your code and we don’t have time for any shenanigans before Elliot and Kate get here.”

“I can be quick,” He smiles. “Just give me a minute and thirty seconds.”

“A minute thirty, huh?” I giggle. “I don’t know if that’s something to be proud of…”

“Au contraire, mon amour,” He says. “The ability to get you off in that amount of time is most definitely a point of pride for me. I’ve considered putting it on my resume.”

“Christian Grey: Businessman. French speaker. Sex god,” I say, decisively and he laughs.

“Alors laisse moi te ramener à notre chambre te montrer à tel point je suis un dieu du sexe.”

“Ooh, that is kind of hot…” I moan, and then turn so that I can kiss him. As he brushes his tongue across my bottom lip though, I hear the ping of the elevator echo through the foyer and great room, and then Elliot’s voice comes soon after.

“Christian? Ana?”

“In here,” I call, smirking at Christian as he frowns and then untangles his arms from around my waist. I turn back to the counter to start chopping vegetables for the salad I’m making. Kate offers her help, so Christian has to step aside to let her. He pours a glass of wine for Kate and I, places the bottle in a bucket of ice for when his mother gets here, and then takes two beers out of the fridge for him and Elliot.

“How bad do you think I could beat you in a game of Call of Duty right now?” Elliot asks.

“Probably pretty bad,” Christian says, and Elliot grins.

“Only one way to find out.”

I look over my shoulder, and Christian rolls his eyes and shakes his head dejectedly as he reluctantly follows Elliot out of the kitchen towards the game room. Kate and I spend a few minutes alone together and she tells me all about the beautiful new house that Elliot has purchased for them while I pull some cold chicken out of the fridge and begin to slice it.

“Where is the house at?” I ask her and she takes a deep breath, frowning slightly.

“Down the street from his parents,” She says. I bite down on my lip to try and hide my smile, but she sees it anyway. “He just likes being close to his family, Ana. I can understand that. In fact, I love that about him. It’s how I know he’s going to be a great dad one day.”

I have to chew on the inside of my cheek at those words. Elliot has said he doesn’t want kids. I wonder how serious he is about that. Kate seems to want them…

“Hello?” Grace calls from the great room, and Kate sets her knife down to wave them over and pour her a glass of wine. I dump the chicken onto the bed of greens in the salad bowl and then toss everything together with Gail’s homemade caesar dressing.

“Mia, will you go get the boys?” I ask, as I carry the bowl to the table. She nods and disappears while Kate and Grace bring out plates for everyone.

“I’m just saying it’s embarrassing, Christian,” Elliot says as they come back into the great room. “You really need to practice. We share the same name, I can’t be associated with someone who is that awful at killing nazi zombies.”

“I think my time is better spent focusing on more productive hobbies, Elliot,” Christian says. “You can have xbox, I’ll keep flying helicopters.”

“You can fly helicopters in Grand Theft Auto,” Elliot says. “Maybe we should try that instead of Modern Warfare.”

“Enough, Elliot,” Grace chides him. “Tonight is about Mia.”

We all take our seats around the table, taking turns showering compliments and congratulations over Mia, which she clearly loves. She makes us each recount our favorite parts of the ballet, quizzing us as though to make sure we really were paying close attention. I ask her about the small dance solo she had in the middle of the second act and she goes on and on about how difficult it is and how she had originally been cast as Moth, but the dancer who they had cast as Peaseblossom couldn’t hold on point long enough so she was re-cast.

“It’s such great exposure,” Mia says. “We aren’t allowed to record the actual performance because of copyright laws, but someone recorded just my solo in rehearsal the other day and I think I’m going to send it in as part of my application to Juilliard. It really is a difficult number, and I happen to be amazing at it.”

“I’ll say you are,” Christian praises her and she lights up again.

“Uh, excuse me, Mr. Grey,” Taylor interrupts us, and Christian turns to look back at him, clearly a little irritated by the interruption.

“What is it?” He asks, and Taylor glances over the table like he’s unsure he wants to say whatever it is he has to say in front of everyone.

“Sir, I was just alerted by the front desk that you had a package delivery that needed a signature. I sent Ryan down to get it and… he was served with a subpoena.”

“A subpoena?” Christian repeats.

“For what?” Carrick asks, setting down his fork and zeroing in on Taylor.

“It’s from Mrs. Lincoln’s lawyer. She’s asking for documents and some security footage from GEH,” Taylor says.

“What kind of documents?” Carrick asks.

“The security sign-in records for the executive suite,” He replies, reaching out to hand the subpoena to Carrick. “There are several dates listed.”

“Do these dates mean anything to you?” Carrick asks, turning the paper so Christian can see. He leans over, reading each line carefully and I get a look at the paper, but there are only dates and times listed. No additional information.

“October 21st 2009, November 17th 2009, February 12th 2010, March 22nd, April 8th…” Christian reads aloud. “No, I don’t recall anything particularly memorable happening on those dates. Not with GEH anyway.”

“Do you have access to the GEH server from here?” Carrick asks, turning to Taylor, and he nods. “Show me then.”

Both Christian and Carrick get out of their seats, and after exchanging a brief look, both Elliot and I get up to follow after them to Taylor’s office. Taylor sits at his desk and pulls open the Grey icon from his desktop that I recognize from my own computer at work. He logs into the Intranet, but when he gets to the next screen, his interface looks very different from mine. He has to enter about four different passwords, but eventually a small box comes up that he can enter the date and times from the subpoena into, and security footage begins rolling.

It’s silent because the footage is from before Christian’s security overhaul, and it must be from last winter because both Andrea and Leila are seated behind the desk wearing sweaters and scarves. Andrea picks up a file from her desk, gets up, and carries it out of the shot and all we have is Leila answering phones for about 30 seconds.

“What is this?” Christian asks, but just as the words come out of his mouth, the glass doors open and Elena walks into the lobby with a pretty, young, brunette girl following closely behind her. Leila smiles at both of them, and then places a clipboard on the counter for the brunette girl to sign in. She then takes her ID, carries it off to the photocopy room, and, once she returns, puts the copy of her ID into the guest access binder. Leila hands the girl a guest badge and directs them to the hallway down to Christian’s office. Once Elena and the girl disappear from sight, Carrick turns incredulous eyes on Christian.

“What is that?” Carrick asks angrily, but Christian is still staring, unbelieving, down at the footage on the monitor. His mouth slightly agape.

“That… I-I-” He stutters, and then he takes a breath and turns to look at his father. “Dad, I didn’t touch any of those girls. I didn’t ask to have them brought to me. She was trying to help me move on from Anastasia… she thought if she introduced me to a submissive, that I would… but I didn’t. I swear to you, I didn’t. Ever. I never touched any of them.”

Taylor fast forwards through the footage about ten minutes until we see Elena and the girl walking back down the hallway.

“Ten minutes?” Carrick asks, his voice an accusation now. “That’s an awful long time to have someone in your office for nothing to have happened.”

“We talked…” Christian replies, defensively. “Elena, I mean. She was the only person I had to talk to then, but the girls… Elena made each of them kneel by the door and she left them there while she came and sat across from me at my desk. We talked for a few minutes, but the girl never moved away from the door. Elena offered her to me, I said no, and they left. Look at her!” He points to the girl in the footage. “She doesn’t have a single hair out of place. Does that look like a girl who was just fucked to you?”

Carrick inhales sharply and then look back down at the subpoena in his hand. “These dates, are we going to see the same thing on each one of them?”

Christian diverts his eyes. “Probably.”

“How many girls did she bring to you?” Carrick asks.

“I don’t know. Five, maybe a few more. But I swear Dad, I never touched a single one of them.”

“Did you know about the club, Christian?” Carrick asks, and now his voice is deadly serious. Christian looks back up at his father with shock.

“Of course I didn’t know! Elena is in the lifestyle, actively in the lifestyle. She’s had two different submissives over the past two years and I’ve met both of them. I just thought she’d met those girls through regular channels. She said she thought they might be a good match for me since they all kind of looked like Anastasia…” I cringe at those words and he mashes his lips together in regret at having said them. When he continues again, his voice is tight with anger. “There are at least four different BDSM clubs in this city, and a few of the people in the lifestyle hold parties to introduce potential submissives to dominants. I thought that’s where those girls had come from. I had no way to know she was pulling them out of the pool of girls she had working for her in an illegal, underground prostitution ring. I never. Touched. Any of them.”

“This is pretty damning, Christian,” Carrick says in a low voice. “All she has to do is show that the girls on the security sign in sheet are girls that had worked for her in the club and… I don’t know how we’re going to get you out of that.”

“We put them on the stand,” Christian argues. “We have them sworn in and then make them admit to the judge that we have never had any sexual relationship.”

“And if they lie?” Carrick asks and when Christian’s lips push together in a tight line, Carrick shakes his head. “I won’t put them on the stand. I need… I need some time to figure out what to do.This isn’t good, Christian. If you want to…” He pauses and swallows. “If you want to back out, now is the time to do it.”

“No, I’m not letting her get away with this again, Dad. Mia deserves better than that,” Christian says firmly.

“You understand what I’m telling you, don’t you?” Carrick asks. “This implicates you Christian. If criminal charges are brought at the end of this trial, this evidence could mean that they’re brought against you. I don’t think I’m going to be able to get you out of this. We have no proof that you were in no way involved, and this seems to be a pretty clear indicator that you were. As your legal counsel, I am advising you that if we go to trial with the evidence stacked against you, there is an almost certain chance that you will be arrested and a criminal trial would mean prison.”

“Will she go too?” Christian asks. Carrick takes a deep breath.

“I can probably convince the judge she was a co-conspirator, yes, but…”

“But nothing. That’s all I care about. Do what you can for me, but I understand the consequences. There is no way that I am letting her walk away from this, Dad. I don’t care if that means I have consequences to face too.”

“I don’t agree with that,” Elliot says, shaking his head.

“You’d rather watch the woman who almost had our little sister raped walk free?” Christian asks him incredulously.

“Of course not, but this isn’t the only way… “

“Well, I’m open to suggestions,” Christian says.

“I work in construction,” Elliot says simply and when both Christian and Carrick give him a questioning look he continues. “You’ve got some pretty scary guys on your team, Christian. Maybe Elena just disappears. Maybe there’s no trial because there’s no one to have a trial against.”

“What are you saying, Elliot?” Christian asks.

“I’m saying that Elena always viewed herself as part of the foundation of GEH. I can make that a reality.”

“No, no, no,” Carrick says, reaching up and covering his ears. “I’m not hearing this.”

“Sir, I could…” Taylor chimes in. “I could make it quick and I wouldn’t leave a trail.”

Christian looks at him for a moment, pondering, and I see Elliot nodding out of the corner of my eye. Carrick’s jaw is tight as he starts to walk away, but when Christian looks down at me he shakes his head.

“That’s not who I am,” He says. “We still have a little over a week before the trial. We’ll figure something out. Dad, you have all of my resources at your disposal. Just tell me what you need from me, and it’s yours.”

“Okay,” Carrick nods, but he still looks dejected. “I’m going to call Stephanie and have her meet me in the office. I’ll probably be there most of the time over the next week and a half while we try to figure this out. Taylor, send me everything you send to Elena’s lawyer, no matter how little it might seem. Christian, I want detailed accounts of every single interaction you’ve had with these submissive girls, and I want them notarized. Have them to me by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay,” Christian agrees. Carrick nods and turns to leave, and while Christian begins issuing rapid fire instructions to Taylor, I follow Carrick to the door to catch him before he steps onto the elevator.

“Carrick!” I call, and he turns somber eyes on me. “Give it to me straight,” I tell him. “I need to be prepared for what’s going to happen so just tell me the truth, okay?”

“He’s not going to get out of it,” Carrick says. “If I don’t put Mia on the stand and prove there were underage girls in the club… Then in a criminal trial, I might be able to get him five years. There’s no way he walks away from this, not with that footage. It’s the nail in the coffin, Ana. He’s not going to get out of this.”

My eyes well with tears and I let out a shaky breath as the elevator pings and Carrick turns to step onto it. He gives me a sad, helpless looking smile and then reaches out for the button to the garage. The doors close, and he disappears. Leaving me alone, feeling like I’m drowning.

Next Chapter

Google Alert: Christian Grey

New York Times, July 20th 2010: Trial Date Set for Grey Enterprises Holdings Prostitution Ring Scandal. SEATTLE, WA: A trial date has been set for Christian Grey, who is suing subordinate executive Elena Lincoln, the former director of Esclava Salons (A subsidiary of Grey Enterprises Holdings), for fraud and misusing company resources to fund an illegal sex trafficking ring. The two will square off in front of the honorable Judge Palmer Ramsdell on August 19th.

---

“I don’t know how it happened, Ana,” Jack says, sounding nearly panicked over the phone.

I lean backwards and glance through the small window in the door to the deposition room Christian’s waiting in with his father, trying to gauge his mood. He looks nervous, and quite frankly, I can’t blame him. Both he and Carrick pulled strings to get a speedy trial date and now everything seems to be moving too quickly. All the media attention surrounding us and GEH since the story of the upcoming trial broke has been a little overwhelming, and the details that have been leaked to the media haven’t boded well for Christian. It ended up being a mistake waiting so long to call the police that first night because in the two hours from when I left Elena and when the police arrived at the bar, she’d had the entire place cleaned out. Carrick told us not to worry, that Taylor had more than enough proof of the club’s existence, but the lack of evidence found by the police meant that she was not arrested. Because of this, no criminal charges were brought against her which Carrick is attempting to get around by filing a civil lawsuit against her, hoping the trial will end with the truth coming out and the judge bringing criminal charges against her himself. It’s risky, and it’s going to leave Christian open and vulnerable because of his connection to the club through Esclava, but he was adamant that we move forward.

Still, it’s made this whole ordeal more complicated and stressful for him, especially on days like today.

I need to get back in there…

“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head distractedly as I turn my attention back to my phone conversation with Jack. “Tell me one more time what happened.”

“We just got the shipment in of Boyce Fox’s book, and something went wrong at the press. Every single R is printed backwards. We’ve gone through 300 different books on 12 different pallets and they’re all the same. These were supposed to immediately go out for shipment. The release date is Monday, we don’t have time to have them re-printed.”

“Okay, hold on,” I say, and I pull the phone away from my ear as I pace quickly back and forth in front of the door. I see Christian look up at me, his brow furrowed as he’s clearly wondering what’s taking so long. I briefly consider asking him what he thinks we should do, he is the CEO after all… but this is what he hired me for, and an opportunity for me to prove that hiring me was the right decision for SIP and not just his personal life.

“Okay,” I begin, pulling the phone back up to my ear. “Get a hold of Barney, we’ll launch the app early and spin it as a special release of Boyce Fox’s book. Have the press do a re-print and tell them we are not paying for their mistake, if they have a problem with that give them my number. We’ll do a hard copy release a week late as a way of encouraging downloads from the app. In the meantime, book Fox on the Today show and a few of the late night talk shows so he can promote the app release. I’d rather get him on The Daily Show or The Colbert Report over someone like Jimmy Kimmel so we can play up the intellectualism of the book. Besides, that’ll open the market to Millennials.”

“Okay,” Jack replies, and I hear him scribbling something down on paper in the background. “And what do we do about the 100,000 copies that are defective?”

“Have Fox sign 100 of them for us to sell at auction as a limited edition release. We can donate another 10,000 to be added into care packages for deployed soldiers through operation We Are Here and the rest can go to education programs in 3rd world countries.”

“Should I have that publicized?” Jack asks, and I bite down on my lip.

“Ummmm… no. I don’t want GEH to get a bunch of humanitarian press and then have it leaked that we donated defective books.”

“Okay, I’ll get in touch with Barney and keep you updated when I know more.”

“Thank you, Jack,” I tell him, and then hang up the phone and head back into the small office Carrick is using as an examination room.

“Is everything okay?” Christian asks as I take the seat next to him.

“Oh, yeah… Just a little mix up at SIP, but I think I’ve got it figured out. Nothing to worry about.”

He nods and then turns to his father. “What’s taking so long?”

“Relax, son,” Carrick says. “He’s only a few minutes late and notaries are not well known for being on time.”

“Well, I’m not well known for waiting,” Christian says bitterly. “Why do we have to have a notary anyway? You didn’t use one the last time we did this.”

“Yeah, and I seem to remember I wasn’t under oath being a part of your testimony,” Carrick replies pointedly. The muscle in Christian’s jaw tightens as he diverts his eyes away from his father, so I reach out and take his hand under the table and squeeze it reassuringly.

There is a knock on the door and a girl with pale blonde hair and a freckled complexion sticks her head inside.

“Mr. Grey,” She says to Carrick. “The notary and the court reporter have arrived.”

“Thank you,” Carrick says, and he gets out of his seat and hurries out the door after her. Christian and I wait alone in the room for a few minutes, glancing at each other awkwardly every few seconds as we sit there in silence. When Carrick returns, he’s flanked by a girl with dark brown hair that almost perfectly matches her eyes, a man in a suit, which looks entirely too hot for late July, and a woman carrying a leather satchel over her pinstriped blouse.

“Christian, this is Stephanie,” Carrick says gesturing to the dark haired girl. “She’s a junior associate here, but one of our very best. She’ll be conducting your interview today.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Grey,” Stephanie says, reaching out to take Christian’s hand, but he ignores her and turns his eyes back to his father.

“You’re not doing the interview?” He asks.

“No,” Carrick shakes his head. “I’m trying to learn from past mistakes. I want you to be honest and straightforward with the statement you give today. Having someone else take your testimony might give you more freedom to do that, take the pressure off.”

“Oh,” Christian says, frowning, but after taking a moment to think, he nods in agreement. I look back to Carrick, who seems to relax a little as Christian accepts his reasoning without argument. Carrick smiles at Stephanie and pulls out a chair for her to sit.

I’ve felt a lot of trepidation over the past few weeks at the uneasy sense of deja vu this whole thing has given me, but Carrick’s approach to the situation today has finally made me feel like this time, it’s different. He’s not leaving anything up to chance. He’s going to fight for his son, and I know that he’s going to fight harder than he’s fought for any client he’s had before, but this time, he won’t take anything for granted or let his relationship with Christian cloud his judgement.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Stephanie says, as she pulls her files and notebook out of her bag. She nods to the notary who then turns to Christian and asks him to stand.

“Will you please state your name for the court reporter?” He asks, nodding to the woman sitting at the end of the table, who is now tapping her fingers rhythmically against the keys of a laptop.

“Christian Trevelyan-Grey,” He says.

“And do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth under pains and penalty of perjury?” The notary asks. Christian takes a deep, bracing breath and nods.

“I do,” He says, and the notary nods for him to take a seat.

“Great, let’s get to it then,” Stephanie says brightly. “I have to say, Mr. Grey, that I have followed your career with some interest. Ever since I was a law student at Berkeley.”

Christian narrows his eyes at her. “And… how long ago was that exactly?”

“Oh, I graduated in 2009. I externed at this lawfirm the previous summer and was hired me right out of law school,” She says with a smile, but that answer doesn’t seem to instill much confidence in Christian.

“I see…” He says uneasily.

“Don’t worry, I’m familiar with your legal history with Mrs. Lincoln. Your father has briefed me on the suit back in 2008 that the two of you were involved in, and I’ve reviewed everything Mr. Taylor has sent to us concerning this case. I even assisted your father on the countersuit you filed earlier this summer against Leila Williams, so I kind of know the ends and outs of everthing you’ve been through, legally.  It always seems to be sex related for you, doesn’t it?”

Christian doesn’t say anything, but raises a disapproving eyebrow in response to her question. I take his hand again as Stephanie glances back down at her notes. I think she’s trying to break the ice or build a report with him to make him more comfortable with her, she just doesn’t know Christian well enough to know that this isn’t the way to do that. But, at least she seems to pick up on that, because she’s more serious from that point on, asking very pointed questions that I hadn’t even considered might be relevant, including his previous experience with BDSM.

It’s uncomfortable, for both us, especially after Christian’s revelations a few weeks ago. I can see that Christian doesn’t want to answer the questions Stephanie asks, but he does. It’s a good thing that Carrick had the foresight to bring someone else in because I don’t know if he’d be this open talking to his father, especially since they’ve only just gotten their relationship back on track. When Stephanie’s line of questioning continues on to Christian’s current relationship with BDSM, his tone changes from reluctant to irritated. But as I listen, really listen, to Stephanie’s questions, I think I get the intent…

“You think she’s going to try to turn this around on Christian, don’t you?” I ask, and she turns to me, and smiles.

“I’m sorry, Miss Steele. I know that you’re here for moral support but this is examination is for Mr. Grey, and Mr. Grey only. As he’s the only person under oath at the moment, I’m going to need you to remain silent for the remainder of the examination.”

“Is she?” Christian asks, and Stephanie takes a deep breath.

“We’re covering all of our bases, Mr. Grey. It is possible that, given your history and your position of authority over Mrs. Lincoln, there could be an implication as to your involvement with this business.”

“I didn’t know about it,” Christian says firmly.

“I know that,” Stephanie agrees. “And that’s why I need you to be as open and honest with me as possible, so that I can prove that to a judge.”

I glance worriedly at Christian as he shakes his head back and forth angrily, waiting for him to respond, but he simply entwines his fingers more tightly with mine, turns back to Stephanie, and nods for her to continue.

The interview takes hours and it’s late by the time we’re finally able to leave Christian’s office. The notary and the court reporter both look annoyed at having been kept working so late, but Stephanie seems pleased with the end results of the examination.

“Thank you, Mr. Grey,” She says, reaching out to shake his hand, and, this time, he takes her hand with his. “I appreciate your time.”

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do,” Christian says. Stephanie promises that she will, but once the notary and the reporter step out of the room, she closes the door and then walks to a camera on the wall I hadn’t noticed before, and flicks a switch that turns off the red recording light.

“I have some concerns,” She says, motioning for us to have a seat again. “A lot of this decision could come down to appearances, and if Mrs. Lincoln attempts a countersuit, it could be possible that your home and office will be searched for evidence as to your involvement with the salon business. As a precaution, I would advise that if there are any signs in your residence that you currently practice BDSM in any form, you remove those signs immediately.”

“Understood,” He nods.

“Good,” Stephanie says, smiling again. “Then, I’ll be in touch with you in the next few days. In the meantime, try to stay out of trouble, but don’t feel like you have to hide away. You have a presence in the media and it might be help your case if the public sees you in a more normal light. As in a normal relationship unrelated to BDSM.”

She looks at me and I nod.

“Great,” She smiles. “Have a wonderful evening.”

She shakes Christian’s hand once more, then mine, and we leave the examination room feeling a little uneasy. As we head down to Carrick’s office to say good bye, I have to shake off the uncomfortable feeling of violation I’m left with knowing that there are intimate details of my sex life with Christian written down in court documents. I know they’re trying to prove that he’s a normal man, in a normal relationship, with normal sexual desires to try and mitigate the concerns his past with BDSM might raise with his connection to the club, but it’s strange knowing that there will be a dossier that describes the kind of sex I have with my boyfriend on file for years…

“Are you hungry?” Christian asks as we step into the elevator that leads to the underground parking garage.

“A little,” I say, only now realizing that it’s been almost 8 hours since I’ve eaten anything.

“Good,” Christian nods. “After all of this today, I’d really like to take you on a date and just forget about things for a while. I think we could use some time alone.”

I smile up at him. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

The Veyron is waiting for us in the garage and as I step inside, I realize that it’s starting to feel strange not having security around. Taylor hasn’t left my side in weeks, but once he dropped me off at Carrick’s office this afternoon, Christian told him he wouldn’t be needed for the rest of the day. I half expect him to call Taylor once we’re out of the garage to have him meet us wherever it is he’s taking me, but he doesn’t. It really is just the two of us tonight.

We end up in the Pike Market district, and to my surprise Christian simply pulls to the side of the road and parks against the curb on a well-lit, busy part of Pike St. It’s weird because I have trouble picturing Christian choosing a place to eat that doesn’t have a valet, let alone one that doesn’t even have its own private parking, so I look up and down the street with interest, trying to decipher where he’s taking me. Taxi Dogs is only a few buildings down, and for a moment, I wonder if that’s his plan. But, as he takes my hand and leads me down the street, he walks past it.

“Where are we going?” I ask, as we round the corner onto Virginia, but he just smiles and then pulls me down an alley on the right. “Oh, by date, you meant you wanted to murder me,” I tease him and he laughs.

“Not tonight, Miss Steele. This is one of my best suits,” He replies. I giggle at his good humor as he leads me to a cinderblock building about halfway down the alley that is painted a uniform dark gray, except for the front door, which is a bright, baby pink. From the outside, it’s definitely not the kind of place I’d imagine Christian regularly frequents, but I realize I’m probably wrong about that when I see the inside.

The restaurant is small, and very intimate. There are a few tables scattered around in a haphazard fashion, but everything about the restaurant itself is beautiful. There are clean white linens on all of the tables, a huge, elaborate vase sitting on a pillar in the middle of the dining room floor that is overflowing with flowers, and the entire space is flooded with soft, warm light from the long tapers resting on every table. It’s a little crowded, which I don’t think is normally Christian’s style, especially since he said he wanted to be alone, but I suppose there’s a unique kind of anonymity when you’re lost in a large crowd.

“Do you have a reservation?” The hostess asks, without looking up from her clipboard, as we step up to her podium.

“No, I don’t. I hope that won’t be a problem,” Christian says, and the hostess looks up with a smug kind of arrogance on her face. But that immediately melts away when she sees him.

“Oh my god, you’re Christian Grey,” She gasps, and he smiles down at her. That carefree, beautiful smile that quite possibly makes him the most handsome man in the world, and she instantly melts.

Poor girl, she didn’t stand a chance.

“Let me get a table for you, Mr. Grey,” She says, and she picks up two menus, turns to say something into the microphone hanging from the wire wrapped around her ear, and then faces us again with a broad, toothy smile. “Right this way, please.”

We follow her into the restaurant towards an empty table, ignoring the pointed stares as we pass each of the other seated guests. Christian pulls out my chair for me and I smile as I settle down and take the menu the hostess offers me. It’s then, as I glance down at the loopy script that almost makes the menu a little difficult to read, that I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye, and look up to see a woman dangling above the dining area, wrapped in the aerial silk used in acrobatic shows. She’s very graceful as she lifts her body and wraps the silk around her so that she can hang upside down, but it’s hard for me to pay attention to her movement because the only thing I can seem to focus on is the fact that she’s dressed only in a pair of satin panties. As she curls her legs around the silk and falls further backwards, her exposed breasts are pushed out, on display for the entire restaurant.

I look back down at Christian, my mouth actually open with unexpected shock, but he seems to be paying little attention to the mostly naked woman dancing only a few feet away from our table.

“Do you like octopus?” He asks casually as he flips the menu in his hands.

“Uh…” I stutter, but, again, my attention is diverted when I see another woman on the other side of the restaurant contorting her naked body around a wide hoop dangling from the ceiling. When I don’t answer him, he looks up and then furrows his brow.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“There are boobs,” I tell him, nodding towards the girl spinning around the aerial silk next to us, and he glances up and then lets out a low, breathy laugh.

“Yes, there are,” He agrees. “The Pink Door is a burlesque themed restaurant, but they have some of the best pasta in the city. I know how much you like Italian food.”

“Right,” I reply as some of the shock fades away. I nod and smile at him, just as the waitress approaches our table, beaming down at Christian like he’s a basket of newborn puppies or something.

“Welcome to The Pink Door, Mr. Grey,” She greets him. “Are you ready to order?”

“I think so,” Christian says, turning his attention from me back to the menu. “I think we’ll start off with a bottle of the 2006 Batar Chardonnay, and I’ll have the scallops for my entrée.”

He looks up expectantly at me and I realize I haven’t even really looked much at the menu. I glance down and pick the first thing I see. “Uh… Linguini Alle Vongole, please,” I tell her.

“Excellent choice,” She says, reaching down for our menus. “I’ll get your wine right out.”

“And some oysters, to start off with,” Christian tells her. She nods and then turns to leave, but Christian stops her. “Excuse me.”

“I’m sorry, can I get you something else?” She asks.

“No, can we have the dancer moved, please?” He asks, looking up at the woman on the aerial silk.

“Oh…” The waitress says awkwardly, “Uh, of course. Let me just get someone to take down the silks.”

“Thank you,” He says. She nods and leaves.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, feeling slightly embarrassed. “It doesn’t bother me, I was just a little surprised that’s all.”

“It distracts you though,” He says, reaching out and taking my hand with his. “And I want all of your attention.”

I smile as he rubs his thumb affectionately over the backs of my fingers, and then take a sip of water from my glass.

“Are you feeling okay after the examination?” I ask him. “It was more intense than I thought it was going to be.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” He says, sitting up a little straighter and I frown.

“So you’re worried?” I infer, but he shakes his head.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. Look, I’m not trying to shut you out or keep everything in, I just want one night that’s about you and me.” He says, and it takes me a little off guard. “I miss you, Ana. I feel like I’ve barely spent any time with you these last two weeks.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask him, my voice filled with concern at the slightly somber tone in his voice. “We haven’t been apart even one night since you got back from New York before your birthday. We’ve made love every night this week. In fact… I’m still a little sore.”

I give him a small smirk which makes him laugh a little, and then he picks up my hand and gently presses his lips to each of the knuckles on my fingers.

“I know,” He agrees. “And I do like you sore… but we’ve both been working late, and I’ve spend a lot of nights in my office with my father. We haven’t had dinner together in almost four days. I miss just sitting down and talking to you.”

“Okay,” I nod. “Then let’s talk.”

The waitress appears again, sets a plate full of oysters between us, and pours us each a glass of wine before setting the bottle on the table and leaving again. Christian reaches out for an oyster and tips it into his mouth, and as I watch the way his mouth moves when he swallows it, my mind immediately summons images of other ways I’ve seen his mouth move…

“You haven’t talked to me much about your life before you came to Seattle this summer,” Christian says. “And I feel like I’ve missed a lot. Tell me about school. I mean, something must have been keeping you busy since you seemed to never be home…”

I look up at him nervously for a second but there isn’t bitterness or resentment in his voice. Instead, his eyes are alight with humor and his lips are curled upwards into a teasing smirk, and as shocking as it is to see him acting so casual at the mention of our time apart, it’s relieving too.

“Well, I hate to tell you this, but I’m writer so my life isn’t very exciting. Most of my free time is spent staring at a blank page on my laptop,” I say sardonically.

“Do you mean to tell me that you were actually home every time I called you?” He asks, faking shock, and when I laugh, he shakes his head. “I can’t believe Elliot would lie to me. Kate I can understand, but Elliot?”

“He’s a shady guy.” I say with a laugh and Christian smiles.

“It’s a good thing he’ll be here for me to keep an eye on then,” He says and I frown a little at the reminder. The waitress returns and sets our plates in front of us, asking if we need anything else, but Christian tells her we’re fine.

“What’s the matter, Ana?” He asks.

“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head and smiling again. “I just hadn’t really thought about Elliot not coming back with us next semester. I mean, I knew he wasn’t, but I hadn’t really thought about him not being there, you know? I’m gonna miss him. A lot of my favorite memories from Harvard involve Elliot.”

“Like what?” Christian asks.

“Well…” I pause, trying to decide which one to share and when I think of the perfect example, I can’t hold back my smile.

“Okay, so he built this shed in the back, by the alley where we park, and it has one of those rolling garage doors that you have to pull open and closed by hand.”

“Yeah, I think I saw that,” Christian says, as he starts to eat. “Just off the kitchen?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Well, there’s this stray cat that Kate kind of takes care of and feeds every now and then, so Elliot keeps the shed door open a few inches so that cat get in and out when it rains or is really cold. Well, last winter, we didn’t see the cat for a while so Kate went to look through the window to see if she could see it in the shed and sure enough, she was in there next to the lawn mower and she had a litter of newborn kittens. It was November and freezing out so Kate wanted to bring the kittens into house, but we couldn’t get the garage door open because it was frozen shut.”

“Did Elliot break it down?” Christian asks, rolling his eyes.

“No,” I laugh, “That would have been better. Kate decided she was going to try and get under the door, which, keep in mind, is only open enough for a cat to get through. So, she took off her coat and tried to shimmy under the door, but her bra strap got caught on the lip of the door. I told her to come back out but she was bound and determined so she asked me to help her undo her bra so she could keep going, and it worked until she scooted forward enough to where the door hit her ass.”

“Please tell me you didn’t try to crawl under a garage door, Anastasia,” Christian says disapprovingly as he tries to infer the direction of the story, but I laugh again and shake my head.

“Oh no, I’m not that stupid,” I tell him. “Well, she decided at that point that she wasn’t going to get through, so she tried to crawl back out so we could wait for Elliot to get home, but her boobs wouldn’t squish down when she came back the other way, so she couldn’t get back out. She was stuck, and since it seemed like it was mostly just her jeans that were getting caught on the door, I had to take them off of her so she could get inside.”

“So you stripped her down to her underwear, outside, in the middle of November?” Christian asks, but again, I shake my head.

“Nope, her underwear was getting caught on the door so I took those too,” I laugh. “So, Kate is naked from the waist down, cursing and panicking as she tries to pull herself into the shed while I’m laughing so hard I’m trying not to pee my pants. Then Elliot pulls into the alley and sees his girlfriend’s vagina on display for the entire world while she’s screaming bloody murder.”

Christian chuckles. “I’m surprised no one called the cops.”

“They did!” I laugh. “Apparently someone drove by and thought we were breaking in, so about 30 seconds after Elliot got there, three police cruisers pull into the alley behind him and they start screaming at us to get away from the shed. Elliot and I were trying to explain that we live there and that Kate is just an idiot, but they didn’t really believe us, so Elliot started panicking and pleading with the officer. He was told to go sit on the curb but he looked back and he was like, ‘But officer, my girlfriend’s vagina is going to freeze off’.”

I start laughing uncontrollably again and it must be contagious because Christian joins in too. The easy humor on his face makes him look so young and beautiful, and I realize, in that moment, how long it’s been since I’ve seen him this way. Maybe since… when? Montesano? His birthday? I can’t remember and that’s not a good thing. I remember what he said to me when we sat down, about how we haven’t really had time to just be together and enjoy each other’s company without the weight of the world bearing down on us. I think it’s inevitable that everywhere Christian and I go, drama will be sure to follow, so it’s important that we make time for this. I need to make the effort to slow down, take a break, and enjoy him and all of the good parts of our relationship.

I smile and pick up my fork to enjoy my dinner while we have one of the most real, intimate conversations we’ve had in I don’t even know how long. When we’re finished and he’s paid the tab, he reaches out for my hand to lead me back out into the alley. As we walk along the side of the street towards the Veyron, I lean my head against his shoulder, feeling perfectly content and wishing this evening would never end. It’s been perfect.

“Can I drive?” I ask him when we finally get to the car and he looks down and raises an eyebrow at me.

“No,” He says firmly, and I pull away from his shoulder to give him an exasperated look.

“Why not? You let everyone else drive your car.” I pout.

“True,” He agrees. “But the difference between you and say, Elliot, is that you’re a terrible driver.”

“I am not!” I say, outraged, but he just looks at me pointedly. “I am not a terrible driver. I have never been in an accident.”

“You also never owned a car until two months ago…” He says, but when I mash my lips together in indignation, he sighs and then very reluctantly hands over his keys. I take them out of his hand and then march very purposefully over to the driver’s side.

“Do not ding my car, Anastasia,” He warns me as I open the car door. “Or I will be fucking pissed.”

“Just get in the car, Christian,” I say, rolling my eyes, and then I slip into the roomy, cool leather seat. I can feel how tense Christian is sitting next to me, but I ignore him as I slide the key into the ignition. Unfortunately though, when I turn it… nothing happens. I turn a slightly embarrassed look on Christian, but he takes a deep, calming breath and then presses the button on the console between us, and the engine roars to life.

“Thank you,” I say, and then I shift the car into drive and carefully pull away from the curb.

It’s actually a little scary once I get out onto the street since a ferry has just docked and released a ton of cars into the mix of normal evening traffic. We seem to be moving only an inch at a time as we sit in the bumper to bumper gridlock, and it makes me extremely nervous. Everything around me is fraught with peril as each of the cars idling merely inches away from me at all times present me with countless opportunities to scratch Christian’s precious car.

When we stop again, I glance over at him, expecting to find him riddled with stress, but actually, he looks surprisingly relaxed. He’s leaning against his door, staring at me very intently.

“What?” I ask him.

“Isn’t that skirt a little short?” He asks, and I look down to see that the black pencil skirt I picked out to wear to work this morning is bunched up pretty far up my thighs. Enough so that the lace tops of my stockings are showing.

“It’s just because your seat is lower than my legs,” I tell him, but as I reach down to pull my skirt back into place, his hand clasps around my leg to stop me. I inhale sharply as I feel his fingers graze against my inner thigh, gently tracing the line where my stockings meet exposed skin. I feel the gentle tingle his touch leaves in my skin creeping up my leg towards the apex of my thighs and have to suppress another gasp.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, and a mischievous smile plays across his lips as he looks up at me.

“We’re not moving,” He says. “Just keep your eyes on the road, Anastasia.”

His hand begins to move up my thigh, skimming tantalizingly over my skin. I bite down on my lip and ease the car forward another few feet as I feel his fingers slip beneath my panties.

“Mmm,” Christian moans. “Does driving a sports car turn you on, baby?”

“No,” I breathe. “You turn me on.”

He lets out a sexy, breathy laugh and then begins to move his fingers, teasing me, playing with me, even briefly dipping a finger inside of me as I continue to inch the car up Virginia Street the few blocks we have left until we’re at Escala.

“Oh baby,” He whispers. “You’re so wet… It’s all over your legs.”

“Well then stop…” I whine, trying to squirm away from his fingers. I move my legs, attempting to clamp my thighs around his hand so he can’t move it anymore, but he just pushes into me harder, deeper, and I let out a strangled kind of cry.

“Do not close your legs on me, Anastasia,” He says darkly. “This is mine, remember? And I like you wet like this. I want to touch you. And, when we get home, I’m going to taste you, and then I’m going to fuck you on the first available surface in our apartment.” He moans slightly at the thought and starts to move his fingers again. “Perhaps I’ll start in the elevator, and then really take you on the table in the foyer. I could bend you over it and then rip open this little skirt of yours… Then your blouse, and then your panties. I want you spread out and on display for me so that I can see how wet you are for me before put my cock inside of you and make you come so hard that you scream for me.”

A shiver runs through me as his words feel like they have a direct line to my libido. I can feel heat pooling deep inside of me as his fingers move in and out of me. We cross over 3rd avenue, and I feel the quivering between my thighs begin. Oh fuck…

“One more block, Anastasia,” Christian says, his warm, sultry voice stoking the pleasure building inside of me. “Do you think you can hold off?”

“I-I…”

“Or maybe I should let you come,” He says. “That’s a visual I’d love to hang onto every time I got into this car. You, falling apart in the driver’s seat because of my fingers inside of you. Fuck, Anastasia, just saying those words makes me hard.”

“Stop,” I whimper, because I know that I’m not going to be able to hold off much longer. But his fingers don’t still.

“Are you sure?”

The car in front of me takes a left on 4th, leaving the intersection open for me to jet across towards the entrance of the parking garage under Escala, but I quickly realize that I’m not going to be able to get into the garage.

“Stop, Christian!” I say, trying to force my legs closed again. He gives me a quizzical look before his attention is caught by a sudden flash and he turns to look at the source of light coming from a few feet ahead of the car.

“Fuck,” He hisses, and his hand withdraws from inside of me, smoothly pulling my panties back into place and pulling my skirt down in what feels like one fluid motion. The street is filled with photographers crowding around the entrance to the garage and blocking my way. It’s hard to see through the blinding flashes that fill the darkness as the paparazzi swarm the Veyron, and I have to slam on the brakes so that I don’t hit anyone.

“What do I do?” I ask, and Christian quickly looks behind us at the cars angrily honking to get past, and then at the entrance of the parking garage which we have no hope of making it to.

“Circle the block,” He says. “Stop at the front of the building and I’ll have Taylor come down for the car. Ryan can get us in through the main entrance.”

I nod and then ease the car forward again while Christian presses the button on the dash for the Bluetooth so that he can call Taylor. It’s easier to get around the block than it was to get up Virginia St, but once we pull up along the curb in front of Escala, the mob of paparazzi surrounds us again.

I’m startled when my door opens, but then am relieved when I look up and see Taylor standing over me, holding his hand out for mine. I slip the keys into his hand as he helps me out of the car and blocks me from the reporters creeping in on us until Christian gets around the car to grab ahold of me. There is an uncomfortable sense of claustrophobia as the cameras close in around us and Ryan has to actually push his way forward to create a path towards the front door. The paparazzi are shouting questions at us, but there are so many and they’re all so loud and garbled with the clicking sounds of the cameras that I can’t distinguish what they’re asking. It’s terrifying having all of these strange men bearing down on us, in a near frenzy, as they try to get their pictures. I try to step up onto the curb after Christian, but something hard knocks into the back of my head and I screech with pain.

“What the fuck?” Christian roars, as his hand closes over my hair where I’ve been hit. He tries to pass me off to Ryan so he can turn around and confront whoever it was that just hit me, but before he can, we get to the front door and Ryan, along with a few of the Escala staff, hurriedly pull us inside and close the doors behind us.

“Are you okay?” Christian asks urgently, and I reach up to the sore spot on the back of my head, and nod.

“Yeah… What is all that about?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Christian says, and he turns expectant eyes on Ryan.

“You haven’t heard?” Ryan asks. Christian shakes his head, but is distracted from saying anything else by his phone vibrating in his suit jacket. It’s his father, so he steps aside to take the call while Ryan leads me quickly over to the elevator. As we wait for it to get back to the ground floor, I quickly pull out my phone to try and figure out what’s going on.

Google Alert: Christian Grey

The Seattle Times, July 20th 2010: Grey vs. Lincoln, Round Two? Court records leaked today by an anonymous source reveal that the pending August 20th trial date for Seattle business magnate Christian Grey and GEH executive Elena Lincoln, is not the first time the two have squared off in the courtroom. Though the details of the previous trial have been sealed, enough information was made available to show that Mr. Grey and Mrs. Lincoln were involved in a criminal case on May 14th 2008 in Middlesex County, Boston, Massachusetts…

There are more, dozens more, from what looks like every major news outlet in the country. I stare down at the screen on my phone in horror, feeling the blood drain from my face. I’m too shocked to register anything else but the words glaring up at me from the screen of my iPhone until I hear the ping that announces the elevator’s arrival. When I look up, I see Christian is standing next to me, staring down at me with an almost defeated looking expression.

“How did this happen?” I ask him and he shakes his head.

“I don’t know. Thankfully, the only things the media have been able to dig up are our names on the case and the trial date. My father told me he worked with the prosecutor’s office in Massachusetts to make sure those records were sealed so that’s all they should get, but just knowing we have a legal history doesn’t look good for me.”

I feel a wave of dread cross over me as the doors to the elevator slide open, and Christian gently pushes me inside.

“Wait here,” He says to Ryan as he steps into the elevator behind me. He glances over his shoulder at the lights still flashing through the windows and then turns to press the button for the penthouse. I bite down on my lip as I’m once again filled with nervous energy, but when the doors close and we’re alone again, I’m suddenly engulfed by Christian. He pushes me back into the wall of the elevator, and it’s like he’s everywhere at once. His mouth is on mine and his hands are running hungrily over my body, tangling in my hair… it’s disorienting.

“Wait,” I protest, but he doesn’t stop. His hand reaches up under my leg and pulls it up over his hip so that he can press himself into me and I can feel his erection, firm and ready against my thigh.

“Christian, what are you…” I try again, but he interrupts me.

“Just… one night, Ana,” He whispers. “I just want one night where I can pretend like the whole fucking world isn’t crumbling around us and I can just be with you. I can’t do anything about this until tomorrow morning, so just take this one night to be with me. Let me lose myself in you.”

I have a flashback to dinner, seeing him finally looking carefree and happy, and the revelation I had about making an effort to put aside whatever external things were going on in our lives so that we could focus on us, and our love for each other. This is where we were headed only a few minutes ago, maybe it is better that we continue with the evening that we’d intended to have rather than sit around all night riddled with stress and anxiety. Maybe right now, since there’s nothing else we can do, it’s better just to forget.

He kisses me again, tentatively this time as though he’s waiting for permission, and I succumb. My hands reach up into his hair and he lets out a low growl as his fingers begin work on my blouse. My breathing is heavy when his lips pull away from mine and begin to move down my neck into my now exposed cleavage. He gently nips the side of my breast, and I moan, bowing my back so that I press my breasts into him.

The doors open and he pulls me quickly out of the elevator and into the entrance hall. His purpose is very clear: the table he’d talked about in the car on our way home.

“Christian,” I say, my voice breathy as his lips make contact with my neck again. “Ryan and Taylor will be up here soon…”

He looks over his shoulder at the elevator doors closing behind us and then shakes his head with annoyance before scooping me up into his arms and carrying me off to our bedroom. He releases me once we’re inside so that he can close the door and I immediately begin tugging at my clothes.

“Stop,” He warns me. “I want to do that.”

I bite down on my lip, and the grey in his eyes glints as he leans down to claim my lips with his again. He pushes me backwards towards the bed as he peels my blouse over my shoulders and discards it without care onto the floor. My bra is next, and once it’s gone, he pushes me back onto the bed so that he can begin to undo his belt and fly, but his fingers stop as his eyes rake hungrily over me.

“God damn, your body is beautiful, Ana,” He says, and I sit up and move his hands out of the way so that I can work on his pants.

“I want to see yours,” I tell him. He pulls his jacket off, removes his tie and cufflinks, and begins to unfasten the buttons on his shirt as I reach into his pants to release his erection. His breath hisses between his teeth as I envelop him with my mouth. Once his shirt is gone, he twists his fingers into my hair, encouraging me, and his mouth drops open.

“That’s it, baby,” He says, flexing his hips and pushing himself deeper into my mouth. He gazes down at me intently, watching my every move. I glance up at him, reveling in every tiny movement of his lips and his eyebrows that tell me how much he’s enjoying the feeling of my lips wrapped around him. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, losing himself to the hedonistic pleasure, and it drives me on. Knowing what I’m doing to him, knowing how much he loves this, makes me feel wanted, sexy, and so, so powerful.

“Fuuuuck,” He breathes, as his fingers clench against the roots of my hair. I tighten my lips around him, swirling my tongue over the head of his erection every time I pull him to the front of my mouth. Before long, he tries to step back, but I stop him. My hand wraps around the base of his erection and begins working in synchronized opposition with my mouth.

“Ana, wait…” He pants. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

I suck harder to express my satisfaction with the idea, but as I pull back on him again, he growls and then reaches down to grab onto me and yank me to my feet.

“I don’t want to come in your mouth, Anastasia,” He chides me, his eyes dark with salacious need. “I had planned for you to come in mine, but I think we’re past that now.”

Abruptly, he turns me so that my back is pressed to his chest, and while his lips and tongue move along the curve of my neck, he blindly yanks open the zipper on the back of my skirt and then tugs on it so that it falls to the ground.

“On the bed,” He commands me. “On your hands and knees.”

I do as he asks, and then let out a small yelp of shock when he pushes down on my upper back so that I fall flat with my breasts pressing into the mattress. He grabs onto my hips, pulling them into the air, and then his hand comes down hard on my ass.

“Oh fuck…” I groan into the sheets and I hear his low moan of approval.

“You look so sexy like this, Anastasia. I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

His fingers wrap around the band of my panties and he gently pulls them down over my behind and about halfway down my legs, but, surprisingly, he doesn’t take them all the way off. He stands between my calves, hanging halfway off the bed, and nudges my legs as far apart as they will go while still being confined by my panties around my thighs.

“You’re so wet,” He says approvingly. I hear the jingle of his belt hitting the floor as he lets his pants fall to the ground and then steps out of them. He removes his shoes and socks and then comes to stand me behind me. I gasp with anticipation as I feel his erection brush over my entrance.

“Ask me for it,” He says, and I whimper. “I want to hear you ask me to fuck you, Anastasia.”

“Please,” I reply, my voice entirely too high and shaky. “Take me, Christian.”

“What?” He asks, and his hand smacks me hard on the ass again. Clearly, my choice of words were not what he was looking for.

“Fuck me, Christian,” I plead. “Fuck me.”

“Good girl,” He says, and he thrusts forward, impaling me in one swift motion. I let out a long, throaty moan as I feel him pull back and then thrust forward again, filling me, stretching me, electrifying me with pleasure that only he knows how to give me. I bask in the sound of his grunts as he picks up the rhythm. It’s exquisite, surrendering myself to him, losing myself and all coherent thought in the steady metronomic pace of him diving in and out of me. He spanks me again, sending a jolt of pleasure down my quivering legs and I cry out.

“Say my name, Ana,” He commands me.

“Christian!”

“Again!”

“Christian! Oh fuck, Christian! Christian! Christian!” His name continues to bubble through my lips in time with each of his thrusts, almost as if I can’t hold it back.

“You’re mine, Anastasia,” He growls.

“Yes, yours!” I reply and then I feel his hand move away from my ass and hear him begin to suck on his finger. When I feel his hand again, his now wet finger begins circling the entrance of my ass, slowly at first and then adding more and more pressure. When his thumb sinks inside of me, I let out a harsh, gratified breath, and push back into him.

“I want to claim your ass tonight, Anastasia,” He says, “You’re going to come on my cock and then I’m going to fuck your ass.”

His words ignite the heat between my legs and I surrender to the feral need building inside of me. He pulls his thumb out of me, wets his index finger with my arousal, and then eases it inside of me. Another one joins the first soon after, preparing me for him, and I find myself alight with excitement at the anticipation.

I want this, I want him. Every part of him. Everywhere.

The thought of him invading me there, where he never has before, while his fingers and his erection move in synchronization with one another, makes everything inside of me tighten, and the quivering begins to build. He pushes himself as far into me as he can go, swirling around and then rocking me back and forth. I squeeze around him, pushing myself further towards the edge, dragging him along with me, and he lets out a low, primal growl and thrusts into me hard again. Another finger slides into me, stretching me further than he has before and I feel him slam against my cervix as he possesses me entirely. The feeling of being so full with him causes me to unravel, and I fall into the warm depths of my orgasm, losing myself in the pulsing pleasure. His pace slows, but doesn’t cease as he takes me with long, purposeful strokes, reveling in my orgasm while also prolonging it.

“That’s it baby. Oh, fuck,” He whispers. He twists his fingers around inside of me as I come down from my orgasm, not removing them until I’m completely spent and melting into the bed.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” He says as he pulls out of me, and I take a deep breath to ready myself for more.

He steps back and retrieves some of the items we purchased together online from their place under the bed. “I’ll be getting rid of most of this tomorrow,” He tells me. “So, we better make good use of it tonight.”

I bite down on my lip as my mind runs through the inventory of what’s down there and I worry what it that is he has planned. A small rush of trepidation runs through me as I feel him climb back onto the bed, enough that I jump a little when I feel him touch me.

“Relax, baby,” He says, his voice gentle and soothing. “This is going to be good.”

I take a deep breath and nod, trying fall back into my post orgasmic bliss, but it’s not the easiest thing in the world when I’m also listening to the sound of mystery objects being placed on the bedside table.

“Here,” He says. “Let me help you.”

He rolls me onto my back and kisses me. His lips are soft, gentle, and move against mine in a slow, entrancing way that pushes a lot of the anxiety away. He moans softly as he pulls his lips away and moves them over my jaw and down past my collar bones. His hands gently massage my breasts, but his mouth continues down. I feel his tongue drag over the line down the center of my stomach to my belly button, where he leaves a soft kiss before shifting his body so he can settle in between my legs while he removes my panties.

“Is this for me?” He asks as he drags a finger over my opening, collecting my arousal. I hum an affirmation and he reaches his finger up, placing it against my lips. I pucker them against his finger tip, kissing it softly, and then he pulls it back and takes it into his mouth.

“Delectable,” He murmurs and then he lowers his lips to my clitoris.

“Ohhh…” I moan as his mouth begins its slow, sensual assault. His tongue swirls around my clitoris, carefully tracing purposefully circles again and again until I feel the heat beginning to build. My back bows off the bed again, instinctively pushing me further into his mouth, but, instead of pushing into me deeper, he pulls away.

“Christian,” I protest. He leans down to kiss my clitoris once more.

“I know, baby,” He says, and then a shiver courses through me as I feel him push his lips together and blow over my center. I whimper and squirm under the sensation, trying to find his mouth once more, but it isn’t his mouth I feel when he makes contact with me again, it’s his fingers. They follow the same pattern he made with his tongue, circling around and around, while his other hand pushes my legs further apart. I relax back into my pillow, closing my eyes so that the only sensation I’m aware of is the movement of his fingers, but that quickly changes when I feel his tongue again. Moving down… there.

“Christian!” I gasp, trying to sit up and pull away from him, but his hands clamp down over my hips, holding me in place.

“Relax, Ana,” He says gently. “Try it. You might like it.”

I bite down on my lip as I stare into the deep, gray depths of his eyes burning with dark, carnal need, and resign. This is new to me, foreign, so I have no choice but to trust him and let him take the lead. I lie back down onto the pillow and open my legs for him again. His fingers start to move, and then, once again, he lowers his mouth to me and his tongue traces slow, sensual circles around my most forbidden erogenous zone.

A low moan escapes me as I realize that he was right. I do like it. It feels… Oh it feels. It’s as good as his fingers were earlier, better even, and as I succumb to the feeling, I feel the quiver return.

“Oh god, Christian!” I gasp, and he lets out a low, very pleased sound as he continues to work his tongue in time with his fingers. I start to build again, higher and higher to the very edge of release, and when his fingers close around my clitoris and pull, I detonate.

“That’s it, baby,” He encourages me, continuing to massage me as I sail through my orgasm, and when I come down, he runs his tongue over me one last time before sitting up and reaching over the bedside table again.

“Roll onto your side,” He instructs me. I take a breath to center myself and do as he asks, rolling so that I’m facing away from him. There is a series of strange noises behind me and then he’s next to me again. I take comfort in the warmth I feel from his chest pressing against my back as he spoons me, and feel my body relax. I can do this.

“Lift your leg,” He tells me, and when I do, he moves his leg in between mine, separating them so that my leg rests over his. His hand moves down to my behind again, and I feel something wet. He’s lubricating me with his fingers.

“You ready?” He asks and I nod. I listen as he squeezes more lubricant into his hand and then coats his erection with it before moving down to the entrance of my ass.

“We’re going to go real slow, baby,” He says. “If it’s too much, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

“Okay,” I agree. He leans over and kisses me gently on the shoulder and I begin to feel pressure from behind. I whimper as the head of his erection slides into me.

“Is that okay?” He asks, pausing, and I take a moment to adjust before I nod and he begins to inch forward again. I find that if I curl my legs up towards my chest a little, it’s easier to accommodate him and he doesn’t have to wait as long for me to get used to him each time he stops.

“Oh fuck, Ana,” He whispers, his lips pressed to my ear as he holds me close against him. “You’re so tight.”

At last, he pushes fully inside of me, exhaling a shaky, pleasure filled gasp, and then stopping again.

“So, so tight,” He says again. “Tell me when I can move.” I move around him myself as I attempt to adjust to his size, grinding back into him until the sensation of him inside of me isn’t just comfortable, it actually feels… good.

“Okay,” I tell him and slowly, he eases back. I can feel every inch of him inside of me, stretching me in a taboo kind of way that makes me feel libidinous and wanton. I moan loudly when he pushes forward again and he groans.

“Do you like that, baby?” He asks.

“Yes,” I whisper back.

“It’s so good,” He hisses through his clenched teeth. My eyes scrunch together as I lose myself in the sensation, in his rhythm, in the feeling and connection of being so close to him, even this way. I can hear his ragged breathing, ladened with his ecstasy as he moves in and out of me. Knowing the pleasure he’s receiving from my body heightens my arousal until I’m panting with need and pushing back against him to garner every ounce of indulgent bliss from him that I can.

He shifts behind me as, I think, he reaches for something on the nightstand again, and when he turns back to me, I hear a clicking sound and then the low hum of something vibrating. He reaches down in between my legs and I feel something textured and rubbery on the tip of his finger gently buzz against my clitoris. A moan escapes from deep inside of me and I feel my body begin to tremble as the vibrations rock through each one of my pleasure receptors, and lush, carnal heat begins building inside of me, burning hotter and brighter with each passing second. The quickening begins and Christian lets out a rough, harsh groan.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” He pants, and he picks up his rhythm. My fingers grip into the sheets as I hold back my cries of ecstasy. The outside world begins to melt away, leaving only me, and him, and the relentless, mind boggling feeling of him pushing, pushing, pushing… it’s exquisite. I feel a rush of elation experiencing this with him, surrendering this last part of my body to him as he claims me for his own. There is joy in the sentiment, as well as wild, libidinous satisfaction. He is the only one who can take me to this dark, sensual place while also showing me a world filled with warm, blinding light made of pure love and happiness. He’s the only person I would want with me, guiding me, as I venture forward into this new frontier.

“I love you, Christian,” I cry out, the words falling unbidden from my lips, and I let go, finding sweet, glorious release as I come around him. He moans a garbled version of my name and then stills, pouring himself inside of me as he holds me flush against him and buries his face into the curve of my neck.

We lie there, panting together as we come down from the extraordinary high. His arms twist around me, holding me tightly, possessively, as his lips brush against the skin on my shoulder.

“You are a siren, Anastasia,” He whispers. “I’m completely bewitched by you. I’m never going to get enough of you. I never want to let you go.”

“Don’t,” I whisper, and then turn my head so that my lips can find his. I’m exhausted, sated, and completely wrung out. My head feels heavy and my mind begins to swim with the promise of sleep. When he pulls away from me, looking down at me with complete and utter awe and devotion, he smiles.

“You’re wrecked, aren’t you?” He asks.

“A little,” I reply.

“Then sleep, baby.”

I moan gratefully and turn around so that he’s spooning me again as I begin to drift. I’m only vaguely aware of his lips pressing into my hair and his fingers gently caressing the skin on my arm, and as the blackness of sleep begins to overtake my consciousness, I hear him whisper something, but the words are lost in the haze of approaching dreams.

Next Chapter

“Get your hands off of her, you evil, vile bitch!” I scream as I cross the street into the alley, and both Elena and Mia turn to look in my direction. They both stare at me, frozen, but Elena’s hand doesn’t move away from Mia’s arm. I lunge at her, intent on slowly tearing her limb from limb, but I’m halted very suddenly in mid air by Taylor’s arm wrapping around my middle and pulling me back so that he can hold me firmly against him, keeping me away from her. Elena’s eyes widen with shock as she realizes it’s me. Her mouth falls open and several incoherent sounds bubble out of her. While Taylor subdues my anemic attempts against his hold, my eyes shift to Mia. Her cheeks are red and wet, her eyes are puffy from the tears still leaking down her face.

“Let me go!” I protest, but Taylor’s grip doesn’t slacken.

“Miss Steele, calm down. Please,” He says, and the subtle note of pleading beneath his tone breaks through the blinding fury, which has colored my vision red, just enough that I’m able to regain control of myself and remember our situation.

“Anastasia,” Elena says, clearly shocked and definitely not pleased to see me standing outside of her bar. “What are you doing here?”

I want to scream at her. I want to tell her what I know and promise her complete and utter destruction. I want to vividly and graphically describe to her all the things that I know Christian will do to her when he finds out what she’s doing. But thankfully, a small, rational part of my brain holds me back. I don’t know what our next move is from here, but whatever it is, I know it’s better if Elena doesn’t know we’re onto her for as long as possible. I don’t want to ruin everything just for an unnecessary throw-down with the bitch troll, no matter how satisfying it may be. Besides, right now, the priority needs to be to get Mia out of here as quickly as possible, and to get Elena’s hands off of her.

“We’re looking for, Mia,” I reply, coldly. “Now. Let. Her. Go.” Each of my words is a hard staccato as I glare into her cold, blue eyes.

Her jaw tightens at the implied threat in my voice, but she does as I ask. Her hand falls to her side and, once she’s free, Mia immediately runs to me. Taylor’s arms unwind from around my middle so that I can hold onto Mia and pull her quickly away from Elena. There is an unexpected movement in the darkness next to me, and when I turn towards it, I see Luke standing there, ready to grab onto both of us and bolt. As Mia melts into my arms, clinging onto me as though her life depended on it, both Luke and Taylor step forward to place themselves between us and Elena, and her gaze ices over as she stares at me between their broad shoulders.

“Anastasia, I can explain,” She says quickly. “I was just driving by and I saw…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I snap, interrupting her. “Fuck off, Elena.”

I tighten my grip on Mia, pulling her up so that she’s supporting her own weight and we turn back towards Taylor’s car parked on the other side of the street. Elena calls out to me again, a note of panic in her voice as we walk away from her, but I ignore it. She’s going to be onto us now. She probably assumes Mia will tell us everything we already know, so I need to get back to Christian as quickly as possible, and I need to get the shaking girl in my arms back to the safety of her home.

“M-my car,” Mia protests.

“Don’t worry, we’ll come back for it, Miss Grey,” Taylor says. “You shouldn’t drive right now.”

“You’re staying with me,” I tell her as I open the back door of Taylor’s car. Once she’s inside, I climb in after her and she buries her face into me once more. I hug her tightly, rubbing my hand over her back soothingly as Taylor gets into the driver’s seat, and once he’s closed his door behind him, he makes eye contact with me in the rearview mirror.

“Should I call Mr. Grey and have him meet us at Escala, Miss Steele?” He asks.

“No,” I shake my head. “Let’s take her home. Christian is there and she needs to be surrounded by family right now.”

He nods and pulls away from the curb. I see Luke’s headlights cutting through the empty darkness down the street, and then turn to follow us, which makes me feel better. I don’t expect Elena to come after us, but until I’m back in Christian’s sight, I want as much security around as possible.

“Ana, it wasn’t.. It wasn’t…” Mia begins stuttering through her tears. “I’m not doing drugs.”

“I know,” I assure her. “We know what that bar really is.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” I nod. “Mia, what were you thinking? How did this happen?”

She looks at me, eyes glistening, until her face crinkles and she devolves into tears once more. I try to get her to answer me as we merge onto the I-90 East towards Bellevue, but whatever has happened tonight has her really rattled. She can’t get more than a few words out at a time so I decide the best thing I can do is to just hold her and try to comfort her and calm her down enough so that when we do get home, she can explain what happened to Christian and her parents.

“You ready?” I ask her gently once we stop outside of the Grey’s house, but she shakes her head.

“They’re going to kill me, Ana,” She says. “What if they kick me out? What if they turn me away like they did to Christian? I’m not like him. I don’t have a big company to get me through. I don’t have anywhere to go…”

“Mia, of course you do,” I assure her. “You have me and Christian, and you have Elliot. We would never leave you on your own, but your parents aren’t going to turn you away. I promise you. We all love you, and we’re all here for you. No matter what.”

She takes a deep breath and then nods, so I wrap my hand around hers and we climb out of the back seat of the car. She’s trembling slightly as we make our way up the walk, but it’s nothing compared the violent shudder that rakes over her when we get inside and hear the hurricane that is Christian Grey roar from the other room.

“Mia!” He yells, as he storms into the entrance hall. “Where the fuck have you b-” His voice cut off when he gets a look at Mia, and when she sees him, she instantly starts crying again. Christian closes the distance between us in only three or four long strides, and then pulls Mia into him, holding her tightly into his chest as she once again loses her ability to remain upright and crumples in his arms. He sinks down to the floor, cradling his nearly hysteric little sister, and then looks up to me with a mixture of confusion and pain. I stare back at him, unsure of what to say. It’s in this moment that I realize, as damning the evidence we have against Elena is, once he knows, it’s going to gut him.

Suddenly, I don’t want to be the one who has to tell him. I want to protect him, and reassure him, but there’s nothing I can say that can make this okay. I take a deep breath and brace myself for the pain that’s about to come.

“Mia, what’s the matter? What happened?” He asks, and she lets out two, loud sobs.

“Wh-where’s Mom an-n-d Dad?” She cries.

“They’re out driving through the streets looking for you,” Christian says. “Elliot and Kate have been stopping by each of your friends’ houses… Talk to me. What’s going on?”

He looks up at me again, expecting me to answer, because he probably knows that his sister can’t right now, but before I start, I turn to Taylor.

“Call the Greys and have them come back here,” I ask him, and he nods and then disappears back out the front door.

“What’s going on, Ana?” Christian asks again. I take a deep breath and then sit down on the floor next to him.

“There’s something you need to know…” I begin hesitantly, and his face morphs from confusion to trepidation.

“What?” He asks, as though he actually doesn’t really want to know the answer.

“Remember when I told you that Luke was looking into Elena?”

“Yes…”

“Well, tonight, he found something. Taylor and I met him down in Beacon Hill and we found out that Elena has been running an underground BDSM club where men come and pay her to have sex with submissives that work for her.”

“It’s more than just that…” Mia interrupts me and as I turn to look at her, her hand flies up to her mouth and her eyes widen with panic.

“What do you mean?” Christian asks, but she shakes her head.

“Nothing. I can’t say anymore,” Mia says, and Christian turns to look at me, his brow furrowed, but I shrug and shake my head to tell him that I don’t know what she’s talking about either.

“Mia, I’m your brother and I love you. You can tell me anything,” Christian assures her. “I won’t be angry with you, I promise.”

“No, I can’t tell you,” She says. “I signed an NDA.”

“What do you mean you signed an NDA? Who gave you an NDA?” He asks.

“Elena Lincoln…” She answers weakly and all of the color drains out of his face.

“What did she do to you?” He asks, all the strength from his voice gone, but Mia just continues to cry into his t-shirt.

“I can’t tell you,” She says. Christian grabs onto her arms and pulls her back so he can look into her eyes.

“You can tell me, Mia. You’re sixteen years old, a minor, which means you can’t enter into a legal contract with anyone. Even if our parents signed, you couldn’t be held to an NDA. She can’t do anything to you if you tell me, so tell me. You have to tell me.”

“What?” Mia asks, clearly confused now. “But… but she told me that if I said anything, I could go to jail and she would sue my parents.”

“Of course she told you that,” Christian says angrily. “But she lied. Trust me, Mia. I deal with non-disclosure agreements every day. I know the rules, and I know the limitations. A sixteen year old cannot sign a legal contract. So, tell me what she did.”

Mia’s face scrunches together, not with tortured sorrow this time, but with anger. Her eyes dart back and forth as she processes what Christian has just said. I watch her mouth snap closed, her lips pressing together in a tight line, and when she does look up at Christian again, there is new determination behind her eyes.

“Ana’s right,” She says firmly. “Well, mostly right. She owns a club where dominants come and pay to have sex with submissives, but there’s more to it than that. There are also a few dominants who work there, two men and one woman, who perform services for people who want to be submissive. They teach people too, people who want to learn about the lifestyle.”

“I don’t understand. How do you know this? Why would she tell you any of this?” Christian asks, but Mia shakes her head.

“She didn’t. I’ve seen it. I work there,” She admits and immediately, Christian’s jaw tenses.

“What do you mean, you work there?” He asks, and I can’t tell if it’s anger or fear that is making his voice shake.

“At the beginning of the summer, Mom made me get a job. I was mad about it at first, but after I thought about it, I realized that if I worked, I might be able to save enough money to go to Juilliard without Dad paying my way. So, I got a job waiting tables at a restaurant, and it was fine, but it didn’t take me long to work out the math and realize that there was no way for me to get even close to the amount of money I would need. Even just for my first year’s tuition. I was only making $7 an hour and tips… Then, about a week after I started working there, Elena came in.”

“Into the restaurant?” I clarify, and Mia nods.

“She asked me what I was doing there and I told her. I told her that my Dad wouldn’t pay for any other school but Harvard and she was… understanding. She was nice to me. She agreed with me that I’d never make enough money waiting tables and then told me to come over to her house after I got off that night and she would see what she could do to help me. She gave money to Christian, I thought she would just give me money too… but she didn’t.”

“What did she do?” Christian asks, and his voice is so weak, it sounds like an echo.

“Well, first, she told me that she missed me. She said she missed all of us and she wished that she could find a way to have a relationship with our parents again so she could see Elliot and I, as well as you. She talked to me a lot about how unfair our parents were and how it was clear that they didn’t support their children. She told me all the ways they tried to hold you back, and that now they were doing the same to me. She said she wanted to see me achieve my dreams, and that she could help me accomplish that, the way she’d helped you accomplish yours… And then she asked if I could keep a secret. I told her that I could and then she told me she ran a business where I could make a lot of money in a really short amount of time. I knew about the salons, I thought that she meant the salons… but when she gave me the address for where she wanted me to meet her the next day, it wasn’t a salon. It was a bar.”

Christian looks at me, and I nod, but we both quickly turn our attention back to Mia as she continues.

“She took me into an office and, after I signed the NDA, she explained to me what BDSM was and how it had helped her and how it had helped you. Then she told me about the club in basement and how many girls it had helped who worked there. She said it could help me too. Not just to help me pay for Juilliard, but it could make me a better dancer by showing me how to control my body. She said it would strengthen me, help my endurance, my flexibility, and my tolerance for pain.”

“Mia…” Christian says, his voice fearful as he braces himself for what Mia is about to tell him, but she shakes her head.

“I told her no,” She says. “I told her that I… I’m still a virgin and that’s not how I wanted to… well, you know. I didn’t want to do it.”

I see Christian visibly relax as it seems Mia has eased his worst fear, but I saw her in the alley tonight, I heard what Elena said to her. I know there’s more…

“She told me she’d find me something else to do, that I wouldn’t have to have sex with anyone, but that if I helped out, she’d pay me $500 a week. She said she just wanted to help me. I agreed, and she told me to come back the next day. I’ve been working there ever since.”

Okay… now I’m the one confused. “What do you mean by working?” I ask.

“I was hostess mostly. When the men came in, I would take their coats and drink order and then I’d take them in to see Elena so that she could explain the rules of the club and introduce them to the girls. I’d go to the store to get things for the girls since they couldn’t leave during business hours. I’d clean the rooms when they were… uh, finished. It wasn’t a great job, but Elena paid me every week and I was saving a lot of money for school. Then, a few weeks after I started, a guy came in and saw me, and he started asking about me. He liked me, and he wanted me. At first, Elena was on my side. She told him I wasn’t an option, but about two weeks ago, she started pressuring me to do it. She told me that I could make more money. I’d start at $2000 a week, instead of $500, but I told her I wasn’t interested. She said the guy was a very important customer, that it was important for us to make him happy, but I told her I wouldn’t do it. Then Elena started getting mad at me. She would yell at me and call me ungrateful. Every time I would come into work, she would call me into her office to ask if I’d come to my senses yet, but I always said no.”

Her voice starts to break again as tears well in her eyes, but she quickly brushes them aside and continues.

“When I came in tonight, I was late because I had to sneak out. She was already mad at me for missing work last weekend when you came and took me to the yacht and, obviously, because I wasn’t doing what she wanted me to do. I half expected her to fire me, but instead, when I got in, she just told me to go clean the back room. I went back there, and… he was there waiting for me. He had rope in his hands and the second I got through the door, he grabbed me. There’s this bed in the room. It’s flat and it has a leather mattress, like a long couch cushion, and there’s a frame built around it with these big, gold rings for the rope. That’s where he was taking me, but I fought him. He kept telling me to submit, over and over again. He just kept saying, “Submit to me, Amelia”, but I wouldn’t. When we got to the bed, I put my feet against the frame and shoved back into him, twisted in his arms so I could break free from his hold. It took me a minute, but when I was able to turn around in his arms so that I was facing him, I bit him, and he let me go. I ran, and he tried to grab me again, but I got out. Elena saw me and she came after me, but I got outside and that’s when Ana found me.”

She reaches down for the hem along the loose collar of her tank top, which I only now realize looks stretched out as though someone has been tugging on it violently. Her hands move over the fabric in the same way a girl in a horror movie would once she looks down and realizes she’s drenched in blood. It’s like she’s afraid to touch herself.

“I can still smell his cologne on me,” She whimpers.

Christian’s entire body is shaking with anger as Mia starts to cry again. He wraps his arms around her, squeezing her tightly and telling her over and over again that she’s safe now, and that he won’t let anyone hurt her.

“I’m sorry, Mia,” He whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

She pulls away, hurriedly dashing the tears out of her eyes and tries to regain her composure. Once her sobbing has stopped, Christian gently brushes his hand across her face to release the strands of hair caught in the wetness on her cheeks, and the way he looks at her is so… conflicted.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” He asks, and she looks at him confused. “If you wanted money for school this badly, why did you go to Elena instead of me?”

“I tried,” She sniffs. “I told you I wanted to go but that Dad wanted me to go to Harvard so he wouldn’t pay for it, and you said you thought Harvard would be good for me.”

“I did think Harvard would be good for you, I still do. But if your dream is Juilliard, I’ll pay for you to go to Juilliard, Mia. I wouldn’t deny you anything. I want for you whatever it is that will make you happy.”

“You do?” She asks, “You’ll… you’ll give me the money?”

“Of course, I will,” He whispers and she throws her arms around his neck and starts crying again, thanking him over and over again. He hugs her tightly, trying to calm her, and then looks up at me expectantly.

“What were you doing down there? Why didn’t you come straight here once Sawyer called you?”

“We needed evidence. Luke said everything he had as proof could disappear, so we went down there so Taylor could get inside and find something concrete.” I tell him. “I was in the car down the street with Luke, while he hacked into Elena’s security system so that we could keep Taylor from being seen.”

“And what did Taylor find?” Christian asks.

“A lot,” I tell him. “This is why her salons are so profitable, Christian. She’s been laundering the profits of this illegal underground prostitution ring through Esclava. Taylor found hundreds of transactions between the BDSM club and the salons on her computer. He downloaded everything, he got video of the interior of the club… We have proof. We can send her to prison.”

He looks down at Mia, who, right now, looks small and fragile in his arms. Her eyes are swollen from all the crying and her cheeks are bright red and stained by the tracks from her tears. She looks so broken and the look of pain and anger behind Christian’s eyes as he stares down at his baby sister, the knowledge of what almost happened to her working through his mind, is heartbreaking.

I jump slightly at the sound of the door opening behind me and then Grace’s anguish filled cry fills the hall around us as her shoes clack against the stone floor.

“Mia!” She shrieks, holding her arms out for her daughter. “Oh thank god, you’re alright.”

Christian lifts her so that his mother can pull her into her lap and, as he peels himself off the floor, I can see his body trembling with rage.

“Where was she? Carrick asks, coming up behind me and putting his hand on my shoulder.

“She was with Elena,” Christian replies in a cold, flat voice that is almost a little scary. I can feel Carrick’s body seize next to me, and Grace’s mouth pops open with shock, her arms instinctively tightening around Mia, as she turns to look at us.

“What?” She asks, her voice raising an octave. “What do you mean she was with Elena?”

“I mean, that she’s been…” Christian begins, but he stops when the door opens again and Elliot bursts through, looking slightly panicked as his eyes scan the room. That fear melts away though, once his eyes fall on Grace and Mia on the floor, and he rushes forward to hug his sister.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He asks, though the anger in his voice is overpowered by the profound sense of relief. “You scared us half to death.”

Mia sniffs, but she hardly acknowledges Elliot as he yanks her off the ground and into his arms. Instead, her almost fearful gaze remains fixed on her father, who is still staring expectantly at Christian.

“What?” Elliot asks, the relief giving way to dread. “What’s happened? What did you take?”

“It’s not drugs,” Christian says at last. “Mia hasn’t gotten mixed up in drugs, she’s gotten mixed up with Elena. She’s spent the summer working in an underground BDSM club that Elena is operating illegally and laundering the profits through Esclava to cover it up. Elena’s been trying to get her into submissive work.”

The room is silent when he finishes speaking and Christian’s hand balls into a fist again as he tries to hold back the anger visibly rippling through him. Grace and Carrick turn back to Mia, who then takes a deep breath and recounts the story again.

“Two,” Carrick breathes when she’s finished, his voice so weak it sounds almost ghostly. He looks as though he’s going to be sick. “Two of my children, and I didn’t…”

“I’m going to kill her,” Christian says. “This is beyond… I’m going to fucking kill her.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elliot says, with more anger than I’ve ever heard from him before, but as he and Christian start to make their way across the entrance hall, Kate steps in their way, holding her hands out in front of her and bracing herself like she expects them to try and barrel through her.

“Stop,” She says, firmly. “What are you going to do? Go down there and beat her up? All you’re going to accomplish is getting yourselves thrown in jail for assault while those poor girls who didn’t have Taylor and Ana show up to rescue them tonight remain stuck where they are.”

“It’ll be hard to keep her business going when she’s dead,” Elliot spits viciously. “She tried to help a man force my sixteen year old sister to have bondage sex with him tonight, Kate. What the fuck else am I supposed to do?”

“Well, for starters, has anyone called the police?” She asks, and everyone turns their gaze to me.

“No,” I shake my head. “Once I saw Mia… I didn’t think about it. All I could think about was getting her away as quickly as possible, and getting the evidence we had back to Christian.”

“What evidence did you get?” Carrick asks.

“Uh… Taylor said he downloaded her entire book of business off her computer, so he got proof of the money laundering and the connection to Escala. He was wearing a body cam when he went in so he has video of everything he saw inside, but I don’t know exactly what that was.”

“So we call the police, right?” Kate asks, but Carrick holds up a hand to silence her, his eyes darting back and forth as though he’s trying to work though something complicated in his mind.

“Carrick?” Grace pushes him.

“Give me a second,” He says, quickly. “I need to think.”

“About what?” Elliot asks, a disgusted note in his tone. “What could there possibly be to think about? We have proof of what she’s doing, Christian still owns Esclava so he has access to whatever shady dealings she’s been doing through the salons, let’s take this bitch down.”

“Elliot, that’s the problem. Christian owns Esclava,” Carrick says, and when everyone looks at him with confusion, he takes a breath and continues. “Look, nobody here wants justice for what that monster has done to my children more than I do, but in this case, justice for Mia will mean consequences for Christian. Serious, legal consequences.”

“What do you mean?” Grace asks.

“She’s laundering money from an illegal prostitution ring into a business that Christian owns, and the profits from that business are funneled directly into GEH. He’s the responsible fiduciary for Esclava, and it’s his name on everything. Not Elena’s. I’ve seen the financial records from the salons, I’ve been looking at nothing else for days trying to prepare for this sale… Just a few weeks ago, Christian used cash reserves from the salons to do an overhaul of his security system, which means that illegal funds have now touched and benefited every department in his company.”

“So what does that mean?” I ask.

“It could mean a lot of things. But GEH is a fast growing company that made a lot of money very quickly. It’s going to call his entire business model into question and he’s going to face inquires from the state as well the Federal Trade Commission, the IRS… maybe even the FBI.”

“Okay,” Christian says, staring into the open space in front of him and nodding slightly as he works through what his father has said. “So, what would I be looking at as a result of those investigations?”

“It depends on whether or not they want to make an example out of you. For a company of your size and revenue margin, I’d say best case scenario, if their investigations don’t find cause to shut you down entirely, you’re only on the hook for a few million dollars in fines. Depending of course how much money has actually gone through Esclava.”

“That’s best case scenario?” Kate gasps, and Carrick nods.

“And what’s the worst case scenario?” Christian asks.

“The judge finds reason to believe that Christian knew about the club and did so willingly and consciously aid the crime and attempt to cover it up. You’ll be facing money laundering, tax evasion, conspiracy, and sex trafficking. If that is the case, you’ll lose your company, have all of your personal assets seized, and you’ll go to prison for anywhere from ten to… twenty five years.”

“But he’s innocent,” I argue, “He had no idea…”

“Can you prove that?” Carrick asks, and I feel my back stiffen as I hear the confrontation in his tone.

“What do you mean? You don’t actually think he had anything to do with this do you?” I spit back at him.

“No, I don’t. But can you prove beyond a doubt, or give me some kind of concrete evidence that I could present to a judge that Christian knew absolutely nothing about an illegal operation pumping possibly tens of thousands of dollars into his company?”

“I-I..” I stutter, but I don’t know what to say to that. How do you prove someone didn’t know something? A lie detector? I don’t actually think those are admissible in court because they’re so easy to beat.

The room is silent as we all contemplate the implication of what Carrick has told us, trying to find some magical solution… but it’s just not that simple.

“I don’t care what the consequences are,” Christian says, breaking the silence at last. “She’s not getting away with this. Not this time, not again.”

“Are you sure about that?” Carrick asks, raising an eyebrow at his son.

“What do you mean, am I sure? Of course I’m sure.”

“Christian, you’re angry right now. You’re focused on Elena and getting back at her, and I understand that. But what happens when you get a little separation from what has happened and you really get a chance to consider what is at stake? What about Ros?”

“Ros?” Christian asks, like he doesn’t understand the word. “Ros isn’t the fiduciary, I am. I’m sole proprietor and I make this decision, not her.”

“No, she doesn’t have a say, but she’s one of your closest friends, and one of the few people who has remained by your side and never left. She may not be sole proprietor, but GEH is her baby, just like it’s yours, and her entire livelihood. Just like it’s Elliot’s livelihood, and now Ana’s. Are you willing to let them lose it? If this goes badly, and you lose everything, you will be leaving Ana with nothing. There won’t be a skyrise apartment for her to live in while you’re in prison, no money to support her, and she’ll forever be connected to you and this case, which means she could have trouble finding a job. Are you prepared to deal with that?”

Christian’s mouth pops open as though he’s going to protest, but no words come out. He looks down at me, brow furrowed, and a look of tortured uncertainty is set firmly in his eyes. I reach out for his hand, and grip it tightly before turning back to Carrick.

“But what you’re talking about isn’t likely, right?” I ask. “It’s a worst case scenario. You’re the best lawyer money can buy. Surely you can handle this, Carrick.”

“Maybe,” He says. “Maybe not. Honestly, if I was presented this case, and it wasn’t one of my children, I would want to be arguing for the other side. If I was on the other side… I would consider it a lock. If it wasn’t Christian… I don’t even know if I would take it.”

“This isn’t about me,” Christian says, jaw tight. “This is about Mia. This is about doing right by Mia.”

“Do you think justice for Mia is watching her brother carted off to prison for a crime he didn’t commit?” Carrick asks. “To have her family torn apart once again by the conniving, evil schemes of Elena Lincoln?”

“No!” Mia cries. “No, I won’t let that happen. I’ll lie. I’ll say whatever I have to, I don’t care. I’m not going to let Christian go to jail for my mistake. He had nothing to do with this.”

“Nobody wants that,” Elliot says.

“Wait. So, what are we saying here?” I ask. “We can’t do anything? Elena just goes free?”

Carrick puts his hands out in front of him conciliatory. “I’m just saying that whatever decision we make, we should make as a family. If we go forward with this, I need to know that this is what you really want, Christian, and that you’re prepared to face the sentence that may be handed down to you.”

Everyone turns to Christian, waiting for his answer, but he’s staring off into space again, lost in thought.

“I need a minute,” He says, and Carrick nods and then reaches down to help Grace and Mia off the floor so he can lead her and the rest of his family into the back room. I follow after them, but stop when Christian calls my name. He takes my hand and walks with me into the formal living room off the right of the hall where I watched him and Mia playing music over the first Thanksgiving we spent together. That feels like a lifetime ago…

He pulls me down onto the couch, not speaking for several, long moments as he gathers his thoughts.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask him, and he takes a deep breath.

“You,” He says.

“Christian, I shouldn’t be a concern right now. I’ll be fine, this is about you…”

“That’s not what I mean… ” He says, and he turns to me, looking as though someone is about to take him to be executed. “Ana… I wasn’t just going to call you.”

I raise an eyebrow at him, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

“When I was calling you everyday, back in Cambridge, that wasn’t my plan. I was going to do more. I was going to show up at your door and beg your forgiveness. I was going to whisk you away to anywhere in the world you wanted to go and show you again how much I love you and how much I need you. I was going to fight for you. I just wanted to cross the billion dollar mark first. When I came for you, I wanted to be able to prove my worth. I wanted to show you that I could give you anything and everything you could ever desire. That I could give you the world… That’s what a billion dollars meant to me, but instead, this is what it’s gotten me. My sister, Ana… My sixteen year old sister.”

He puts his face in his hands and I wrap my arm over him, pulling him into me. “Christian, this isn’t your fault-“

“I let Elena go,” He disagrees. “She’s walking the streets, because I allowed her to. This business that she’s running is a direct result of my decision. It’s entirely my fault.”

“No, you had no way of knowing that this would happen. You even audited those salons, remember? Even your financial experts didn’t find anything. You did what you did two years ago, but that doesn’t absolve her of the responsibility for what she’s done. This is her fault, Christian.”

“No,” He shakes his head. “Don’t make excuses for me, Ana. This is my fault. And, the real poetic justice is that after everything I’ve been through, after everything I’ve put you through and my family through… I could lose everything I’ve worked for. And I don’t even care. I might even deserve it. I don’t care what happens to me, but if I do lose everything and I go to prison, I leave you with nothing. If that happens, what was the point in any of this?”

“Christian…” I say, feeling my throat thicken as tears well up inside of me at the sight of him so riddled with pain and guilt.

“Ana, I can’t let her get away with this,” He interrupts me. “I can’t let her walk away again. Not after what she’s done to me, to us, to my family, to those innocent girls she has working for her. I can’t let her win again, just to protect myself. I won’t be able to live with myself.”

I swallow the rapidly growing lump in my throat and try to blink back the tears that are welling in my eyes. “Okay,” I say quietly, nodding as if it will somehow strengthen my resolve. “Then we fight it.”

“And if it doesn’t go our way?” He asks.

“It will,” I assure him. “It has to. There is a balance in the world, Christian. Some kind of divine force that allows good to conquer evil and for truth to overcome lies. I believe that, and whether it’s God, or Karma, or a giant flying spaghetti monster, it allows what is right to win over what is wrong, and Elena is wrong. You’re innocent, Christian, and no matter what happens, we’ll find a way to prove that.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Anastasia. I can’t live through that again.”

“You won’t, Christian. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, and that’s never going to change. You are the love of my life, Christian Grey, and if this is what you want, then I’ll be by your side the whole way. You, me, your family… we’re going to figure this out. We’ll protect you, and we’ll help you fight. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

He looks up to me, his gray eyes searching mine, until he takes a deep breath and then nods. He leans over and kisses me gently, his lips lingering for only a second until he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine. His fingers reach down to tangle together with mine and we get up off the couch and walk side by side to join his family in the other room.

They’re all sitting on the sectional in the family room. There are shouts echoing back and forth across the room as they all argue amongst themselves, except for Grace, who sits silently on the sofa with Mia still wrapped in her arms as she gently rocks her back and forth. The raucous noise dies almost instantly though when Kate sees Christian and I enter the room and she directs everyone’s attention to us.

“We’re going to turn her in,” Christian says, and to my surprise, Elliot stands up and shakes his head.

“No,” He says. “No, this is not how we make it right. Dad’s right. Christian going to jail for a crime he didn’t commit is not justice for Mia. There has to be another way.”

“What way?” Kate asks.

“He could just close down the salons,” Carrick suggests. “Don’t sell them, just close the doors and take away her ability to legitimize the money coming into the clubs. It’s very probable that the IRS will catch onto her eventually…”

“Probably? Are we okay with probably?” Kate asks. “And what about the other girls that work there? No one cares about what happens to them in the meantime? This is about more than just, Mia. This is about Elena facing the consequences for everyone she’s hurt. Going to the police and taking her to court is the only way she doesn’t win.”

“We’ll find a different way,” Elliot snaps. “I’ll go over there and take care of her myself if that’s what it takes, but I will not let her rip my family apart again!”

“Why don’t we take a vote?” Carrick suggests. “Find out where everyone stands and try to come to a consensus.”

“No!” Christian says, his voice firm and commanding so that everyone falls silent and turns to face him. “There is no discussion, there is no vote. I’m am going to go into the other room, and I am going to call the police. I’ll file suit first thing in the morning. Dad, you can represent me, or I can find someone else, but either way, I’m not letting her get away with this. I’m not going to wait for the possibility that the IRS might catch her after god only knows how many more years, I am going to ensure that she has to pay for what she’s done, and soon. I’m going to be the one to bring her down, for what she did to me, for what she did to Mia, and for what she’s still doing to every single one of those girls still there. I will fight this with everything I have in me, but to do that, I need your help. All of you.”

We all turn to Carrick, waiting for his reaction because we know that his support is key for the rest of the family. He stares back at Christian, mulling the decision over in his mind until he takes a deep bracing breath, gets up off the couch, and nods.

“Okay then. Call the police. Let’s get started.”

Next Chapter

When I get home from work Monday night, I’m exhausted. I’ve spent my entire work day pouring over expense and sales analysis reports, which have been compiled because we’re getting close to fiscal year end and Jack and I are going to have to do an in depth review and presentation for Ros and Christian in a few weeks. I feel like I need a glass of wine to unwind from the hours of tedious work so, before I go into the bedroom to change out of my work clothes, I walk into the kitchen and pour a glass of Sauvignon blanc. Gail is making something that smells amazing on the stove, so I hang back to chat with her, while also trying to subtly take a peek at what’s for dinner. I can’t remember, but I don’t think I had lunch this afternoon, and now that I’m surrounded by the enticing smell of the fresh vegetables and chicken roasting in the oven, I’m ravenous.

While she stirs the pot of mushrooms and chicken stock, she tells me about her weekend in Portland with her sister and how much she enjoyed watching her great niece, who just celebrated her second birthday, playing with sparklers and watching the fireworks.

“It would be so nice to have a little one to look after around here,” She says, sighing longingly, and I choke slightly on my sip of wine.

“What?” I cough and she gives me a slightly guilty smile.

“I’m sorry, Miss Steele. Dr. Grey was over here to drop off the results of Mia’s drug test earlier and I told her I’d put it out there…”

“Wait.. what?” I ask, interrupting her with surprise. “Drug test?”

“Oh yes. It’s in that envelope,” She nods to a large white envelope resting on the counter with the Northwest Hospital letterhead stamped in the upper left hand corner. I reach out to pick it up, but just as my fingers close around the thick paper, the elevator pings and Christian and Ryan walk into the foyer. He gives me my favorite, easy, breathtaking smile when he sees me, and he slides his iPhone into his pocket as he crosses the great room to wrap me in his arms.

“Hey,” I greet him, but instead of speaking he simply presses his lips tenderly into mine. I kiss him back, feeling the warmth from his lips rush through me like an analgesic washing away all the tension left in my body from the long day. I moan appreciatively into his lips, and he gives me a small, adoring smile before leaving another small, quick kiss against the tip of my nose.

“Hey,” He says, at last.

“Dinner should be ready in about 20 minutes, Mr. Grey,” Gail says as she pours the mushroom mixture she’s prepared into the baking pan with the chicken and then slips it back into the oven. Christian thanks her, and she takes her apron off and then disappears through the other side of the kitchen to give us some privacy.

“Twenty minutes…” Christian says, giving me a mischievous look. “Now what could we do to kill the next twenty minutes?”

“Enjoy a glass of wine together,” I say sweetly, “Would you like one?”

“Please,” He says, and I disentangle myself from his arms to get him a glass, or myself one I suppose, since he actually picks up and begins to drink out of my glass. I shake my head, laughing quietly to myself, and pour a second glass of wine.

“What is this?” Christian asks and I look over to see him holding up the envelope on the counter.

“Your mom brought it over, it’s Mia’s drug test results.”

Instantly, he sets down his wineglass and begins tearing into the envelope, fishing out the paper inside, and scanning it quickly. But, once he gets through it, he frowns. Not with disappointment, but with confusion.

“What does it say?” I ask.

“It says she’s… clean,” He replies, clearly surprised.

“Well, that’s good then, right? It means we were wrong.”

“Or there was enough time between the last time she used and when she took this test for it to clear her system. The weekend on the yacht gave her at least… 72 hours, which means that she’d turn up clean for Amphetamines, Barbiturates, Cocaine… basically anything that’s not weed or Benzos…”

“Or she’s not doing drugs, Christian,” I say emphatically but he shakes his head.

“We’ll just keep testing her. Maybe I’ll ask Mom to take her back to have her hair tested.”

I grimace as I look down at my glass of wine, knowing I’m not going to change his mind but also thinking it’s ridiculous to stay fixated on catching her doing something wrong, rather than trying to prevent anything from happening again. She should be going in to see Flynn, she actually seemed to accept and welcome that idea, but I don’t even know if there has been an appointment made for her yet. Besides, I’m not convinced the problem is drugs… She’s been acting off all summer, but not in a way that would make me think she’s picking up a drug habit. She’s being selfish and acting like a spoiled sixteen year old girl, but there’s rationality, however skewed, behind her behavior. That doesn’t feel like drug addiction to me…

“How was your day?” Christian asks, changing the subject and picking up his wine again. He reaches out to take my hand in his, brushing his thumb along the backs of my fingers affectionately, and I smile at him.

“It was fine,” I answer. “Long, mostly and I had a lot of tedious work to do. I’m getting ready for an end of year review with the CEO.”

“That sounds stressful,” Christian says, with a crooked smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I hear he’s a tyrant.”

“Ugh… the worst,” I groan dramatically. “But, he is really nice to look at.”

I giggle as he yanks on my hand and pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me again. I playfully rub my nose against his, and he chuckles slightly as he reaches up to brush a loose strand of hair out of my face.

“How was your day?” I ask him.

“Productive. My father called this afternoon to tell me Elena Lincoln tried to counter the offer my mother put in with $1.6 million, which means she has more money than I thought she did. And since I pay her and I was well aware of her financial situation before I took over the salons, it looks like she’s probably stealing from me. But, Andrew Lincoln secured a government contract to cut timber in some overgrowth in the Cascades, which is going to make Lincoln Timber a lot of money. So, there’s that.”

I frown, not understanding why that’s a good thing. “But doesn’t a lucrative contract mean that he could turn his business around and keep you from being able to buy him out?”

“It could… if I didn’t have several contacts on the Washington State Appropriations Committee. But I do, so his contract will be tied up until I take control of his company and then it will be my contract. It’s going to mean an extremely high profit margin for my manufacturing division and that should trickle into Grey Construction, save me some money on my new building.”

“That sounds kind of shady…” I say, carefully.

“It’s not illegal, Anastasia,” He says, and then he sighs. “Mergers and Acquisitions is a vicious world, but it’s what I do, and I do it well. If it makes you feel better, I was told today that the Lincoln Timber labor union is eight days away from going on strike because of unfair labor practices, all of which will be corrected when GEH takes over.”

“Well, that’s something,” I say, but the uncertainty I feel in my stomach doesn’t disappear at his reassurance. I’m not really sure how I feel about Christian using back door deals with politicians to take someone’s company from them… Even if Andrew Lincoln isn’t exactly boss of the year.

“I forgot to tell you this morning,” Christian says, interrupting my thoughts, “but Ros will be coming over tonight. In about an hour or so… We’ve got some things to go over for end of year, and we have to start separating Esclava from GEH. We’ll probably be busy for a few hours, at least.”

“Oh, well… that’s okay. I can entertain myself. Maybe I’ll call Kate and see if she wants to come over.”

He nods and then looks over at the clock illuminated over the stove. “We still have fourteen minutes… and you’ve finished your wine.”

“Whatever will we do?” I ask innocently, and then giggle as he raises his eyebrows at me suggestively. He quickly silences me with a kiss and as I surrender to him, I wrap my arms over his shoulders and pull myself closer to him. His fingers close around my sides and his thumbs brush softly over my hip bones as I open my mouth for his tongue, which begins to move against mine in an insistent and yes, arousing way. I quickly lose myself in the feel of him, the taste of him, allowing it to cloud my mind until I’m melting into him, and he holds me flush against him, clinging to me as though he’s afraid to let me go.

“Bedroom,” He whispers against my lips, and with that one, simple word, everything in the outside world falls out of my mind, and leaves only room for the desire I feel for this beautiful man. He pulls my arms away from his neck and twists his fingers with mine as he turns to lead me down the hallway to our bedroom, pulling me a little too insistently behind him. Heat flushes to my cheeks as I anticipate what’s waiting for me just on the other side of the bedroom door, and the second I’m over the threshold, his arms envelop me, and his lips come crashing down on mine again.

I moan into him as I pull at his suit jacket, letting it fall unceremoniously to the ground, before my fingers start work on the knot in his tie. He tugs at the zipper on the back of my dress, and then untangles my hands from his shirt so that he can pull it over my shoulders and then down past my breasts and hips. He unclasps my bra and pulls it off of me, freeing my breasts, which he then reaches out to cup with each of his hands.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” He whispers, staring down at them reverentially.

I reach up into his hair, pulling his lips back down to mine, but he only kisses me for a second before he pushes me gently back onto the bed. With quick grace, he removes his shirt, and then undoes his belt and the buttons and zipper on his pants. I bite down on my bottom lip, staring up at him hungrily as I watch him undress, and then he falls to his knees so he can wrap his fingers around the lace band of my panties.

He eases them down slowly, his fingers brushing lightly against my thighs as he goes. I feel a tremble rock through me as I see his heated, burning gaze staring into me, at the apex of my thighs, with unconcealed hunger.

“Oh baby,” He says, his voice thick with desire. “I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

“Christian,” I moan. My thighs clench together as the need I feel in my core begins burning hotter, but he moves his hands to my thighs and gently spreads them open again. I let out a sharp breath as I feel his lips press against me, his tongue bathing me as he drags it purposefully up my center and then swirls it tenderly around my clitoris. I writhe against him, reveling in the feel of his mouth, and yet still greedily wanting more. I want all of him in this moment, to be consumed by him, and he’s quick to oblige my unspoken desires.

His strong hands grip tightly to my sides as he pushes me further onto the bed. He climbs over the top of me, leaving quick, sweet kisses against my skin as he works his way up my body. I feel his erection press against me as his tongue brushes against my lower lip, silently requesting entrance. I open my mouth for him, kissing him deeply as blood pulses loud and heavy in my ears and yearning runs real, and rampant through my veins.

He begins to sink into me, slowly, and once he’s buried entirely inside of me, he stills. I moan, and clench around him, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he focuses on my mouth, his lips and tongue dancing tantalizingly with mine as we taste and relish in each other. His hands tangle into my hair, holding me in place while his fingers gently massage my scalp.

When he finally starts to move, it’s slow and so, so sweet. My body bows, my breasts pressing tightly against his chest, as we move against each other, with each other, as one. His mouth breaks away from mine and his teeth begin to graze my jaw and then my chin, before he leans down to press his lips against my neck, softly sucking at the sensitive spot beneath my ear. His pace, though slow and purposeful, pushes us both higher and higher towards the edge of ecstasy until we’re completely absorbed in one another, hanging onto the edge by only the tips of our fingers. Our gasps and moans mingle together, filling the room around us, and as I listen to the strangely musical cacophony, my body begins to heat with the promise of a quickly approaching release.

I’m so in love with this man, and in this moment, lost in the throws of passion with him, I’m nearly consumed by the depth of that love. We’ve been through so much together, through joy and sorrow, through pain and blissful, perfect happiness, and we’ve come out the other side stronger and more resilient than ever. We’ve finally gotten to the place where I feel like I can surrender myself entirely to the connection between us that feels like a powerful cosmic force, and as I allow myself to succumb, I fall freely over the edge and detonate around him, feeling my body fill to the brim with welcome, cathartic pleasure as I cry out his name.

His breathing is harsher as he feels me coming around him, and just after he whispers a profound confession of his love for me into my ear, he reaches his climax and pours himself into me. Our bodies relax in unison as we come down from the high together. His face is still buried in my neck and my arms and legs are wrapped around him, holding him as tightly to me as I can manage. His lips move to mine, kissing me tenderly, and reminding me once more of the depth of his feelings for me.

I look up into his gray eyes, feeling sated and relaxed, completely willing to lay here with him for the rest of the night, but I know that Ros is coming soon and so that is just not in the cards for tonight.

“Dinner?” He asks, in a low voice, and I nod. He pulls out of me, and crawls off the bed, and after we’ve dressed again, he takes my hand and leads me back out to the great room.

Ros shows up only a few minutes after we finish the chicken marsala Gail has prepared, and after a brief hello, she and Christian disappear back into his office where they will remain locked away for, what I assume is going to be, the rest of the night. I try to get Kate to come over, but apparently Elliot has officially accepted that he’s in Seattle for good so they’re out looking at houses with a realtor together. I try to read, but I’m too keyed up to be comfortable with just my own company right now. It makes me miss Luke, and how nice it was always having him around when he was my CPO. So, before too long, I find myself meandering back to Taylor’s office and lurking in the doorway as he checks the security footage displayed on the monitors in front of him.

“Yes, Miss Steele?” He asks.

“You wanna hang out?” I ask, hopefully, and to my surprise, he lets out a low laugh and then motions for Ryan to take his seat. As he makes his way out of the office, he picks up a heavy looking, wooden box.

“Do you know how to play chess, Miss Steele?” He asks, and I nod happily.

“Yeah, my dad loves it.”

“Well then, let’s see how well he taught you,” Taylor says, and he leads me out to the dining room table to set up the board.

I’m either really rusty, or Ray hasn’t taught me as well I thought he did, because very quickly, my pieces are lined up on the side of the board while Taylor still has a full arsenal defending his king. I frown down at the blank spaces between our pieces, trying to decide what the best move is from here but, unfortunately, I’m finding that nearly everything I do will lead to me losing another man. Still, despite the crushing defeat I know is inevitable, there’s a welcome feeling of comfort sitting here playing with him. The way he concentrates very hard on the board before he makes his move and the small, almost vindictive laugh he lets out everytime I make a move that plays directly into his hands, reminds me a lot of being home with Ray. In fact, being around Taylor in general gives me the sense of comfort that I associate with my father. Perhaps this is why I’ve felt a little more at ease since he’s taken over as my CPO.

“No, don’t worry about it, Mom. I’ll find her,” Christian’s voice comes from the hallway, and both Taylor and I turn towards the sound with interest. He’s just hanging up the phone when he comes into view and I watch him take a deep, steadying breath before walking over to the table where Taylor and I are sitting. “Mia snuck out of my parent’s house. I need you to find her.” He says tersely.

“Right away, sir,” Taylor says, and he gets up from the table and heads for his office. I get out of my seat, looking at him with concern and wrapping my arms around him comfortingly. He lets me hold him for only a second though before the leans down to kiss the top of my head and then gently pushes me away.

“I’m going to call Sawyer and send him down to the spot he picked her up at on Friday. If she’s down there again… I don’t know, maybe he can head her off or find out who she’s buying from.”

I nod and then watch him take out his phone and then move across the room after Taylor. It occurs to me then that Ros is still back in Christian’s office alone, so I make my way down the back hallway to see if I can help her at all while Christian is busy trying to find Mia.

The office is a mess, with piles of papers stacked all over his desk and a few scattered around the floor. Ros is sitting in the chair across from Christian’s, carefully reading through a document while chewing absentmindedly on the end of a highlighter.

“Hey,” I say to get her attention and she smiles when she looks up at me.

“Hey, Ana. What’s going on with Mia? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s probably not as bad as he thinks it is. You know how Christian panics… I wouldn’t be surprised if Mia just wanted to hang out with her friends but couldn’t because she was grounded. They’ll probably find her at a mall or something when they eventually track her down.”

“Mmm,” Ros hums as she turns her attention back to the document in her hand.

“Can I help you with anything?” I ask and she actually looks relieved.

“Actually, yes,” She says, reaching for a stack of papers next to her and picking up another highlighter. “Will you go through these and highlight any of the line items from Esclava? They’re usually marked with the ESC prefix, but sometimes there are miscellaneous items that got missed. If you look through the purchaser column for any instances of Elena Lincoln’s name, you should get all of them.”

“Okay,” I agree, and I take the chair next to her and begin looking through the list. I don’t find very many instances of Elena’s name. Mostly, it’s just Christian or Ros listed in the purchaser column, with a few of the other department heads scattered throughout, but Elena’s name appears the least. I do note though that her miscellaneous expenses do seem to be larger dollar amounts than what the other department heads request…

“I hope I didn’t miss any…” I say hesitantly as I hand the list back to Ros and she looks briefly at it before nodding.

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t purchase much so you shouldn’t find her name on there very often. It’s one of the things I’m going to miss about Esclava. High revenue, low overhead. Most of the profit that comes in from the salons goes directly into cash reserves. That’s actually how we paid for the security system overhaul Christian did a few weeks ago. It was nice having something profitable that didn’t require huge upfront investments to keep it growing and bringing in money… It’s almost a shame to let it go. Almost.”

“Is that normal?” I ask her, trying not to sound too suspicious. “For salons to be that profitable, I mean.”

“Oh god no, that’s definitely the Grey Touch at work. When Christian told me he wanted to buy the salons, I thought it was going to be a money pit, but he proved me wrong. He always has a plan and he always knows best in the end.”

“Hmmm,” I frown, but I don’t get to press her further because my phone begins vibrating on the desk next to me.

“Mia?” Ros asks, only half interested as she turns the page of the document in her hand.

“No, Luke…” I reply and I give her a brief smile as I get out of my chair to take the call in the hallway. “Hey, Luke. Did you find her?”

“No, but you need to get down here,” He says tersely.

“Down where?”

“Beacon Hill. I’m on Dearborn and Rainier.”

“I thought you were supposed to be looking for Mia?”

“I drove around but I didn’t find her. What I did find was Elena Lincoln, and, trust me, you need to get down here right now.”

My breath catches in my throat as I stand there, mind whirling. “What did you find?” I whisper.

“I think I know why her salons are so profitable, and it’s not legal. But I need proof and to get proof, I need help.”

“I can’t…” I groan. “I can’t go anywhere without security, Luke. I promised I wouldn’t.”

“So bring Taylor with you, he’s more help to me than you are. Just don’t tell Mr. Grey.”

“Why?”

“Because if this is what I think it is, we need to keep him as far away as possible. We don’t want him to be implicated in any way.”

“Oh my god… it’s that bad?”

“Maybe, but I need to get a better look at what’s going on to know for sure. Get down here.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll text you when I’m on the way.”

He starts to say something, but I see Christian coming around the corner so I hang up the phone and try not to look guilty. “Did you find Mia?” I ask him.

“She left her phone at home,” He says bitterly. “But we will. I’m just going to go in and tell Ros that we’re going to have to pick this up tomorrow. I’m going over to my parents’ to wait for Mia to get home.”

“Do you want me to come?” I ask, nervously. I want to be there for him if he wants me to be, but I also don’t want to miss whatever it is Luke may have found… Thankfully though, Christian shakes his head.

“I don’t know how late I’ll be, and I don’t want to keep you up. Will you be okay here alone, or do you want me to send Kate over?”

“No, I’ll be okay. I’m bound and determined to beat Taylor at chess at least once tonight.” I say, smiling at him to try and cover the guilt I feel from lying. He doesn’t notice though, because he nods and then leans down to kiss me quickly on the lips before walking past me into his office. I hang back in the great room as Christian apologizes to Ros for wasting her time while they walk to the elevator where Ryan is waiting, ready to go. The moment the doors close behind them, I hurry forward into Taylor’s office, but when I get there, I find him already on the phone.

“Yeah, I have it,” He says distractedly into the phone as he begins to put several things into a black, canvas bag. He turns to look at me, his jaw tight, and then turns his attention back to his phone conversation. “I’ll be there twenty minutes.”

He hangs up without any kind of salutation and looks very seriously at me. “I need to get downtown, but I’m under strict instructions not to leave you alone.”

“You mean… you’re going to let me come with you?” I ask hopefully and he nods.

“I don’t really believe this is particularly dangerous, just something we need to do without being seen. I think you can handle that, if you do what I ask you to do. Now, go change into something dark, but not obvious. We’re not in a spy movie, Anastasia. Keep it casual.”

“Okay,” I tell him and I turn around and quickly head for mine and Christian’s bedroom. Pulling a pair of dark colored jeans from my drawer and finding a long sleeved black t-shirt to go with it, I change as quickly as possible. Once I have my chucks laced up, I put my hair in a ponytail and then head back out to the foyer where Taylor is waiting for me. He’s changed too, into a pair of black jeans and a dark, navy hoodie, and the black canvas bag is draped over his shoulder.

“Ready?” He asks and I nod. “Then let’s go.” He pushes the button to call the elevator and then ushers me inside. I expect him to lead me to the Lincoln, but he pulls out the keys for his own car instead. I climb into the front seat and then sit anxiously as he pulls out of the parking garage and heads to South Seattle.

There is a remarkable difference between this neighborhood and the one where I live with Christian. The buildings are run-down, some of them vacant and boarded up. There are empty concrete lots lining the street that are filled with trash and the walls surrounding them are covered in graffiti. Taylor pulls along the curb and puts the car in park, then scans the area around us, his gaze lingering on the bar across the street, before turning to look very seriously at me.

“If I tell you to do something, you do it. Understand?” He asks.

“Yes,” I reply, and he nods and then takes his bag out of the back seat. We get out of the car and walk along the sidewalk, keeping our heads down and saying nothing until we come up along side a black SUV. He stops and reaches out to open the back door for me and I look at him curiously but get inside when he gives me a sharp, subtle nod.

“Hey, Ana,” A voice says behind me and I jump, but catch my breath when I see Luke in the third row behind me, typing on a laptop. Taylor climbs through the door on the opposite side of me and throws the bag down on the floor at my feet.

“Okay, what do you have?” He asks, and Luke turns the screen of the laptop towards us. It looks like security camera footage of a dive bar, or a pool hall, maybe? There is a large square room in the picture and it looks like there is a bar along the far wall with several padded bar stools pushed up against it. It’s fairly empty and as I stare at the bartender leaning against the bar talking to his one and only patron, I feel a little deflated. What the hell does this have to do with Elena?

“How many?” Taylor asks.

“Three,” Luke replies, “It’s been a slow night.”

“And how do you get in?”

“My best guess is through the back office. I pulled the building plans from the city hall website and this bar was used as a speakeasy during prohibition. There’s a door back there that conceals a staircase which leads down to the underground rooms.”

“No security footage from the basement?”

“I can’t get a signal for anything, and honestly, I doubt it. If I was running an illegal underground business, I probably wouldn’t want cameras around.”

“Illegal underground business?” I ask, but they ignore me.

“So we’re going to have to get in there,” Taylor infers, and I look between them, thoroughly lost.

“What is going on?” I ask, “What’s down there?”

Luke looks over at Taylor, waiting for confirmation, and when he nods, Luke turns back to me. “When I was digging into Elena’s financial information, trying to find a transaction that could link her to TMZ, I starting seeing some things that didn’t add up. Well, not really… everything was just too perfect and normal. The only deposits came from GEH, and the only transactions were automatic bill payments for her mortgage or utilities, or the occasional charge to a restaurant or store, but nothing extravagant. There weren’t any charges for vacations, lavish shopping sprees, expensive spa retreats… All things I know Elena Lincoln loves and all things that I know she’s had to pay for in the past few months. Then I noticed that all the accounts I was looking into were opened before her divorce was finalized in 2009.”

“That’s only a year old, why would that matter?” I ask.

“Because in 2009 her name was Elena Lincoln, but that’s not the case anymore. I did a background check and pulled her credit report and found out that after her divorce was finalized, she changed her name back to Elena Kelly, her maiden name, but she didn’t change any of her old financial information. When I started looking into Elena Kelly, that’s when interesting things began popping up. She’s been using her married name in public to hide a second business she’s been running underground.”

“What?”

“That bar?” He says, pointing to the run down building Taylor parked across from, and then gesturing back down to the surveillance footage on his laptop. “This bar. It’s owned by Elena Kelly.”

“Okay, so she owns a bar. Are you saying she stole the money from Christian to open it?”

“No…”

“Well, then, if she’s not stealing from Christian to keep it afloat, or whatever, then why does it matter if she owns a bar?” I ask.

“Because it isn’t a bar,” Luke says, and he pulls his laptop back to him. I sit there, anxiously waiting while his fingers move furiously over the keys of the computer and when he turns it back to me, there is a website open on the screen on some browser I’ve never seen before for what looks like some kind of nightclub or something called Kink.

“What is this?” I ask, and he looks at me like I’m being obtuse.

“It’s a BDSM club, Anastasia. It’s a place where men can go and pay to have sex with submissive women, and it’s located in the basement of that bar.”

“How did you find this?” I ask.

“It’s on the dark web. She’s gone through great lengths to keep this place a secret. But she’s not as good at it as she thinks she is.”

My mouth drops open as realization begins to dawn on me and my brain begins to work through the impact of Luke’s words. “Oh my god… she’s running a prostitution ring.”

“And she’s laundering the money she makes through Esclava,” Luke says. “That’s why her salons are so profitable. I went and looked through the financials of the salons again, and while they check out on the surface, if you really did the math to compare the number of transactions they have in a day with the number of stylists she has in the building at one time, they’d have to be turning our haircuts and dye jobs every seven minutes. When is the last time you got a haircut from a high end salon in seven minutes? Plus 65% of the transactions that go through her registers, are cash. How many people in downtown Seattle do you think are using cash for purchases over $100 instead of a credit card?”

“So what are we doing here?” I ask excitedly. “Let’s take this to Christian! This is better than just selling photos to a magazine. This is a felony! A serious felony. She could go to jail for… well, years, at least.”

“This isn’t a registered business, Ana. Everything that we have to prove its existence can be taken down in an instant or proved to be circumstantial evidence. We need something concrete,” Taylor says. “That’s why we’re here. I need to get inside and get ahold of something that will not only prove the legitimacy of the business, but that will implicate Mrs. Lincoln and hopefully prove that she’s laundering the profits.”

“So how do we get inside?” I ask. “Is there a secret password or something at the door?”

“We don’t get inside,” Luke says. “But there is back entrance Taylor could get through, if you can jimmy a lock and do it without being seen.”

“Security footage?” Taylor asks, serious now.

“Two cameras on the back door. I can disrupt the feed but for only thirty seconds, and I won’t be able to tell what’s on the other side of the door.” Luke replies.

“I’ll take care of it,” Taylor says. Luke shows him the layout of the building according the schematics he downloaded off the internet and they come up with a plan for entry. It’s fascinating to listen to. I don’t care what Taylor said earlier, this feels exactly like a spy movie to me. When the plan is set, Taylor reaches into the bag in the front seat and pulls out a radio and a small earpiece that is hard to notice once he puts it in. He fixes a square, black box, to the strap of the bag and then places it over his shoulder.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Body cam,” He replies. “Stay in the car with Luke. I’ll be back in no more than 30 minutes. If we lose communication for any reason, call the police.”

Luke nods and I give him an encouraging smile as he steps out of the back of the car. We watch nervously after him as he casually crosses the street and then disappears into the shadows around a convenience store three buildings down from the bar he’s supposed to get into. There’s a nerve wracking minute or so of silence, and then his low, gravelly voice comes over the radio in Luke’s hand.

“I’m around the corner. Kill the feed,” He says tersely and Luke starts typing on the keyboard again, concentrating very hard, before picking up the radio and saying, “You’re good.”

I climb into the backseat with Luke and we both stare anxiously at the blank computer screen for the next thirty seconds and when the feed comes back on, we can’t see Taylor.

“Is he in?” I ask and Luke nods.

“He’d tell us if he didn’t get in. Now, we wait…”

The minutes feel like they drag on for hours as I oscillate between staring at the computer screen and staring out the window at the bar. A few more men walk in through the front door, which is good because when Luke switches back to the interior security footage, we can see Elena upstairs. He assures me that means it should be easier for Taylor to get in without being seen. Still, he keeps looking down at the clock in his dash and as we get closer and closer to the 30 minute deadline, I see his cool facade start to falter. What are we going to do if this doesn’t work? Will the police be able to find the evidence needed for us to proceed or is this a situation that would call for a warrant? And if they did have to get one, how likely would it be that Elena could clean everything up in time to avoid being caught? I don’t know…

Thankfully, with three minutes to spare, we hear Taylor’s voice come through the radio. “I’m at the door, kill the feed.” He says quietly, and once again Luke does whatever he does to cut out the surveillance footage.

“Go,” Luke says into the radio and again, we sit in silence until Taylor slides into the back seat of the SUV.

“Did you get it?” Luke asks and Taylor smiles.

“Oh, I got it. She’s a fucking idiot. I got her entire book of business off the computer in her office, including hundreds of documented cash transactions to Esclava.” He holds up a small USB drive, his eyes glinting victoriously at it.

“Excellent,” Luke says, and he too begins smiling broadly. “Then let’s get this back to Grey so we can put this bitch away.”

“With pleasure,” Taylor says, and we get out of the SUV so that we can make our way back to Taylor’s car. As we walk towards the bar, I feel a very vindictive sense of victory wash over me as I stare at it, but my selfish celebration is cut a little short when we hear the loud bang of a door slamming open followed by the distant echos of a woman yelling. Taylor grabs on to me and yanks me roughly behind a car parked against the curb to shield us from view, and as we kneel down out of sight, I ease myself up to look through the car’s windows at the scene unfolding in the alley across the street from us.

“Get your ass back inside, I’m not going to tell you again!” It’s Elena and she’s positively fuming at a small, brown haired girl, who is turned away from me, but who I can see is shaking.

“I’m not doing it. You said I wouldn’t have to do it!” The girl screams back at her and her voice is so garbled with tears it’s hard to hear her from across the street.

“Oh don’t be naive,” Elena spits down at her coldly. “I said we would take it slow but this is the nature of the business and it’s time you got on board with that. You knew this was coming and I’ve given you plenty of time to prepare yourself.”

“No! I’m not doing it! Please!” The girl screams as she crumples to the ground and begins sobbing into her hands.

I feel a deep ache inside of me as, once again, I’m confronted with Elena’s heartless, brutal demeanor being targeted at someone who doesn’t have the power to stand up for themselves. I have to fight the urge to get up and go to the aid of the girl, and I start shaking as I watch Elena yelling at her, demeaning her in full view of the street. There is an overwhelming feeling of impotence surging through me because I can’t do anything to stop what’s happening. I know the best way to help the girl is for us to get home and give what we have to Christian so that the business that this poor girl is caught up in goes away permanently. I don’t want Elena to know we know what’s going on, I don’t want to give her time to do anything to stop us…

But all of that goes out the window as I watch Elena yank harshly on the cowering girl’s arm, pulling her to her feet, and as the girl tries to twist out of her grip, I see her face.

I don’t even realize that I’ve gotten to my feet until I’ve already started to move towards them. It’s like my body is running on autopilot as I launch myself forward to put myself between Elena and the girl she’s wrestling with. Taylor’s hand reaches out to grab onto me, to try and pull me back behind the car with him, but I struggle out of his hold.

“Ana, stop! Get back here!” He commands me, but I don’t listen.

“I can’t,” I reply breathlessly. “It’s Mia!”

Next Chapter

I spend most of the next morning pacing back and forth on the third deck, waiting to see Charlie Tango gliding through the sky towards us. Christian left before I woke up this morning. Well, it was actually the ignition of the rotor blades on the helicopter that did wake me up, but it’s been hours since he left and there’s still no sign of him.

“You sure you don’t want breakfast?” Kate asks, her voice surprising me as I hadn’t heard her come up behind me.

“I’m fine,” I tell her.

“He’ll be back soon, Ana. Waiting up here isn’t going to make him get back any faster. Come have breakfast with us. Elliot wants to get out on the water early this morning, you should come with us.”

I turn to look at her and since I am a little hungry, her pleading gaze is able to sway me. Besides, she is right. I have no idea when Christian is going to be back. It could take him a while to even leave Seattle as I’m sure Mia isn’t going to be very happy after Luke practically yanked her off the street last night and held her hostage in Escala.

“Alright,” I sigh, but just as I turn to follow her inside, I hear the steady thrumming of helicopter blades in the distance. We stand back, shielding our faces from the wind that sprinkles us with sea spray, and give Christian a wide berth as he lowers Charlie Tango onto the yacht. The second the rotor blades switch off, the passenger’s side door opens, and Mia leaps out onto the deck, storming angrily towards us.

“Hey, Mia,” I greet her, but she ignores me, instead continuing inside. “Not good, huh?” I ask Christian as he comes up next to me.

“She hates me,” He sighs and I give him a sympathetic smile.

“Well, sometimes that happens when you step in to help someone who needs it,” He nods and then holds up a box for a 12 panel drug test.

“I need to find my mom,” He says, but he only takes one step before he turns back to face me, looking slightly awkward. “Oh, and… the next time you talk to Luke, tell him I said… thanks.”

“I will,” I reply, smiling, and then he turns to head inside, taking the stairs down to the 2nd deck two at a time. Kate wraps her arm through mine, squeezing it reassuringly, and then leads me forward after Christian.

I spend the entire day with Kate and my mom while the rest of the Greys negotiate their way through the hostage negotiation that is trying to talk to Mia. Grace goes in first, drug testing kit in hand and tries to appeal to Mia rationally. Unfortunately, the sound from Mia’s room travels very well through the open rooms of the yacht, so we hear everything from Mia arguing and fighting against everything her mom says, to Grace trying to keep calm as she expresses her anger and disappointment in Mia’s lies and their subsequent concern over the drug use she’s been hiding from them. We try to ignore them, Elliot and Carrick even attempt to spark up conversation, but Christian buries himself in a book on the sofa next to me, though, since he stares down at it for nearly 15 minutes without turning the page, I don’t think he’s actually reading.

“Mia, we’re trying to help you,” I hear Grace say, imploring now. “You don’t know how dangerous this path you’re going down is. I see it every day, believe me. You have to realize the kinds of devastating consequences this type of behavior can have. I love you too much to watch you have to go through this.”

“Jesus, Mom. You’re so overdramatic,” Mia replies bitterly.

“Overdramatic? Don’t you realize that this pattern of behavior is what led to Christian becoming your brother in the first place? His mother died because she made the same choices you’re making right now.”

“And you probably regret that, don’t you? Another imperfect kid screwing up what should be your perfect life. Dad cut Christian out the second he did something you didn’t approve of. Am I next?”

“Amelia Grey! Of course not, and how dare you say that to me. Your father and I have done everything that we can to provide you kids a loving, nurturing home and give you every opportunity you deserve,” Grace says firmly.

“Then why are all your children so fucked up?”

I feel my gut clench as I feel the blow of Mia’s words, and my heart aches for Grace. I quickly glance up at Elliot sitting across from me and can tell he’s uncomfortable as he looks down at his hands in his lap, but Christian just continues to stare impassively down at his book, listening intently so he doesn’t miss a single word. Carrick, however, gets out of his chair and walks angrily towards Mia’s room. A few seconds later, his shouts reverberate down the halls and soon, Grace comes out to the living room to join us with tears in her eyes.

“Mom…” Elliot says, getting off the couch and moving to wrap his mother in a hug.

“l’m sorry,” She says as she tries to stop herself from crying into Elliot’s t-shirt, while she listens to Carrick screaming and promising Mia she’ll never use her phone, her car, or see her friends again until she graduates high school. “You shouldn’t see this.”

“I’m not twelve anymore, Mom. It’s okay,” Elliot says as he leads Grace over to the couch. He sets her down and gets her a glass of water, which she drinks as Carrick storms angrily back into the room.

“You shouldn’t yell at her like that, Carrick,” Grace says quietly when he sits back in his chair, obviously still fuming, but he shakes his head.

“She doesn’t get to talk to you like that,” He says, picking up the paper he’d been reading before he got up.

“Well, screaming at her is not going to make her open up to us,” Grace replies, and she sets down her glass of water and gets off the couch. “I’m going to go try again.”

“Why don’t we take a break from the good cop/bad cop routine?” Elliot says, reaching out and pulling his mother back. “Trust me, it’s not going to help right now. Give her some time to think and calm down and it’ll be much easier to talk to her.”

“Yeah,” Kate agrees, nodding as she stands up. “This is supposed to be a fun, Fourth of July weekend. Let’s go get out on the water. I’m sure we can all imagine how much restraint it’s taken Elliot not to say the word jet ski’s this morning.”

“I mean, I wasn’t going to suggest it…” Elliot says innocently. “But since you brought it up.”

“Okay,” Carrick nods, though his voice still sounds a little unsure. “Maybe missing out on some fun will encourage her to drop the attitude and talk to us…”

“You go,” Christian says, finally setting the book down and then reaching over and picking up the drug test kit from its place on the table in front of his mom. “I’ll deal with Mia.”

“Christian, she just had her dad yell at her. Let’s just give her a minute before the yelling starts again,” Grace says.

“Oh, I’m not going to yell,” He says, and we all turn and watch him walk down the hallway, listening carefully and he opens the door to her room without knocking.

“Go away, Christian,” She says, and then suddenly her voice becomes more urgent. “Hey, what are you doing? Put me down! Christian, stop!”

A there is a loud crash and then the sound of a door slamming closed. “Pee in the cup, Mia. You’re not coming out until you do.”

And she doesn’t. Hours pass, the rest of us go on about our day, enjoying the water and the sunshine, but Mia never leaves the bathroom and Christian never leaves his post at her door. I go into the room every half an hour, trying to put an end to the stalemate, or at least to convince Christian to give someone else a turn so that he can go enjoy himself for a while, but he isn’t interested. He sits on the floor next to the bathroom door all day. I come in with dinner for both him and Mia around 6:30 and then sit there with him reading until past eleven, but nothing changes until Mia falls asleep on the fluffy rug on her bathroom floor and Christian finally gives in and puts her to bed.

The next morning, I wake up to Christian pacing back and forth across our living room floor, talking into the Satellite phone while Ros gives him a rundown of everything that has happened at GEH with him away over the last day and a half. His hair is ruffled, which isn’t hard to figure out why as almost the instant I notice it, his hand shoots up and begins running roughly through it. As he issues the long list of rapid fire instructions, most of which mean nothing to me except that I think they’re talking about Lincoln Timber, I sit up and stare at him, biting my lip apprehensively as I listen to the strain of stress in his voice. This weekend was supposed to be a relaxing few days away from work and the sale of Esclava, but it hasn’t been, especially with everything going on with Mia. I want to find a way to be able to help him unwind, at least for today, but before I come up with a way to even just convince him to leave Mia alone for a few hours, he hangs up the phone, tosses it aside, climbs back into the bed with me and begins attacking my lips with his.

It takes me by surprise, and I actually let out a small yelp, which is muffled by his lips, as he pushes me back into the bed. It takes only a second for me to catch up to him though and then succumb beneath his fervor. I feel a mounting sense of excitement building within me as I feel his hands move up my side towards my breast and for the first time in over two weeks, I have hope that this is more than just a kiss. Tentatively, I reach up and wrap my fingers in his hair, moaning into his mouth as he slips the straps of my camisole over my shoulders and yanks it down rather than over my head so he doesn’t have to break our kiss.

His erection presses into my leg and the muscles south of my navel clench in response. I arch my back, pressing my now naked breasts up into his t-shirt and as his lips break away from mine and begin moving south, I let out an exalted moan as I anticipate his mouth on my breast. But before I can even feel the gentle scrape of the stubble on his chin, he stops.

I look down at him and feel the jubilation deflate as I see the look of tortured hesitation on his face as he stares down at me. He closes eyes, shaking his head a little as his hands grip tightly to the sheets next to me in frustration.

“What can I do?” I whisper and he looks up at me, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know…” He replies disappointedly. “Look, Ana… I want to. I really fucking want to, I just…”

“I know,” I tell him, and as I watch him take a deep breath and then lean down to place a gentle kiss on the tops of either of my breasts, an idea pops into my mind. I bite down on my lip as I contemplate whether or not I should even bring it up, but if we’re going to get past this, and I know that we both really, really want to get past this, maybe it’s necessary.

“Can I try something?” I ask him. He looks up at me uncertainly, and for a minute, I don’t think he’s going to let me but after a moment of contemplation, he nods slowly but continues to look at me with suspicion in his eyes.

I push against him so that he rolls off of me and onto his back in the bed next to me, and I sit up, looking very purposefully in his eyes.

“I love you, Christian.”

“I love you, too,” He replies, still wary since he’s not sure what I’m doing.

“I want you to take off your pants,” I tell him and he opens his mouth to protest, I stop him. “I’m not going to touch you.”

He nods, but he still doesn’t move. So I pull my camisole over my head and tug my pajama shorts and panties off so that I’m naked next to him, and as his eyes drag hungrily over my body, he takes a deep breath and slowly lowers his pants and his boxers from his hips. I steel myself and lean down to kiss him, softly and deeply, pouring as much of my love into him as I physically possible, before I lie back, facing opposite of him so that my shoulders are touching his hips and my feet are resting against the headboard. Slowly, I move my leg over his chest and plant my foot on the other side of him, spreading myself so that he has an unobstructed view between my legs. His eyes widen, remaining fixed on me as I gingerly slide my hand down my stomach, over my pubic bone, and then brush my fingers lightly over my clitoris.

A small, involuntary gasp escapes my mouth and as my fingers begin to move, and I watch his lips for an oh so tantalizing “o” as he moans and reaches down for his erection. He continues watching my hand, his own hand moving faster when mine does, or stopping all together and gripping tightly whenever I stop and use my hips to grind against my fingers for friction.

“Inside, Anastasia,” He whispers huskily. “I want you to push your index finger inside of you.” I do as he asks, moaning as I feel the wet heat around my finger. “Another one,” He instructs me.

I slide another finger in to join the first, moving them in and out of me and swirling them around inside of me the way he always does. The feeling, combined with watching his penetrating gaze on me and seeing him pleasuring himself, has me quickly climbing to the edge of release.

The room is filled with the sound of our combined moaning as we lose ourselves, apart, but still very much together. I yearn to kiss him, to have any connection with him as inch towards my climax, but there’s no way I could reach him from here and with the promise of an orgasm currently lingering just out of reach I don’t want to move or do anything to stop it. My breathing comes harsher, louder, as Christian lets out a low growl in response.

“You’re so wet,” He says, his voice husky now and practically dripping with lust. “Are you getting close, baby?”

“Yes,” I whisper, because that’s all the strength I can coax from my voice in this instant.

“Look at me,” He says, and I open my eyes, and turn to look at his hand moving agilely, and efficiently over his erection. “No, Ana,” He growls, “Look at me.“

My eyes move to his, and I’m immediately entranced by his dark but purposeful stare. His gaze bares into me with fire hot intensity that seems to burn right through me, breaking through all barriers and eliminating everything around us. There is connection in it, the uniting factor that I’m craving and it’s enough to push me over the edge and into oblivion. My orgasm rips through me, hard enough that I can’t focus on maintaining the rhythm of my fingers in and out of me, and the second I stop, my hand is pushed away and Christian’s longer, thicker fingers replace them. The intrusion sends a new, longer wave of pleasure through me, and I begin to writhe over the bed sheets while his fingers move in and out of me, his other hand continuing to move steadily up and down his erection just a few inches from my face. My body shudders as I come down, and while I begin to melt into the mattress, I hear the broken staccato of his breathing and I realize he’s getting close now too.

“Touch me, Anastasia,” He says, a pleading note in his voice and I turn and immediately reach out, wrapping my hand softly around his and we move together for only a minute until he pulls his hand away entirely, leaving me to finish him on my own. I grip him firmly, moving my hand up and down the way I’ve watched him do for the past several minutes and he groans, pushing his hips up into my hand as his eyes focus on what I’m doing to him.

“That’s it, baby,” He says. “Oh, fuck, I’m almost there…” I tighten my hold on him, my tongue brushing hungrily across my bottom lip as I feel him swelling in my hand and I know he’s just about to erupt.

“Can I use my mouth?” I ask him.

“Yes! Oh god, yes,” He practically begs and immediately, I lean over and wrap my lips around him, my tongue swirling around the head of his erection before I pull him greedily into the back of my throat. It takes only seconds before he erupts and I feel warm, bitter liquid filling my mouth and oozing down my throat. Normally, this isn’t something I’m a huge fan of. It always sounds hotter in theory that it is in practice and semen isn’t the easiest liquid to swallow, but seeing the look on his face as he finally finds release pushes any reluctance I may have aside, leaving only room for me to indulge in and enjoy his pleasure.

When it’s over, and I swallow the last of his release, he pulls me up and kisses me, and despite the fact that even I can still taste him in my mouth, there is no hesitation in his kiss, or in his invading tongue.

“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth and again, he groans. He kisses me for what might be seconds or hours, I’m not sure as time seems to mean very little as I allow myself to be entirely wrapped up and consumed by him. When he does pull away though, he looks into my eyes, searching them, and then gives me a carefree and deeply loving smile.

“Thank-you, Anastasia,” He says. “For not giving up on me. I promise, from now until forever, I’m going to be the man you deserve.”

“You always have been,” I reply, and then I lower my lips to his once more.

When we finally leave our room that morning, I’m able to convince Christian to have breakfast with our families and then come out onto the deck to relax for a while, while Carrick tries again with Mia. He brings the book he was trying to read all day yesterday, and we spend a very peaceful afternoon under the sun and taking in the cool sea breeze as we make our way back towards Seattle so that we can watch the fireworks over the sound once it gets dark.

Two of the personnel Christian has hired to staff the yacht are professional masseuses, so while Kate and my mother enjoy a relaxing massage on the upper deck, Elliot and I discuss our hopes for the upcoming football season and Christian and Bob talk cars. I was right before when I told Bob that Christian would probably let him drive the Bugatti if he asked, and so, while Bob can barely contain his excitement at the prospect of getting to drive the car once we get back to Seattle, Christian goes into all the details and specifications that made him chose that model in the first place, and then all the aftermarket modifications he’s done to make it as fast and as quiet as possible.

“Alright, I’m done,” Carrick says, sounding slightly defeated as he shuffles out onto the deck and collapses into an open lounger. “If she doesn’t want to talk, she can just sit in there and pout until she does. I can’t fight with her anymore.”

“I’ll go,” Grace says, removing the ice pack from her eyes and sitting up, but Carrick reaches out to stop her.

“Maybe we need a different plan,” He tells her and she settles back into the chair. “We’re not getting anywhere and validating this temper tantrum she’s throwing is just ruining this weekend for everyone. I say, we let her stew in there alone and when we get back, we can take her in to see Dr. Flynn. She may not want to talk to us, but he seems to have a way with getting people to open up and getting to the root cause of the issue.”

“I don’t want to just leave her in there,” Grace says, “It doesn’t feel right having all of our family together but keeping her locked away in a room.”

“You can’t force her, Grace. We’re not keeping her anywhere, she’s secluded herself. We know she’s safe, we know she’s not going to get in trouble. If she wants space right now, maybe giving it to her isn’t the worst idea.”

Grace frowns but eventually she nods and settles back into her chair, taking a long drink of iced tea and picking up a magazine to read.

“You know, it’s kind of a shame Dr. Flynn doesn’t have kids,” Elliot muses aloud. “Our family could have put them through college by now.”

“Instead, we’ll put him into early retirement,” Carrick laughs. “Trust me, not having kids to worry about and obsess over is a special reward all in itself.”

“Which is why instead of children, I’m going to travel and keep my money all to myself. Maybe one day, I’ll have a luxury yacht of my own, and a whole fleet of jet skis. That, Dad, is pure joy.”

“Hey!” Grace exclaims. “Having children is the most rewarding and greatest gift any person could experience and one day, hopefully in the next year or two, you’ll have your own child to love and nurture so you can know what a joy and honor it truly is.”

Elliot laughs, a little too hard, and when he finally can pull words together through his gasping breaths he looks up at his mother. “Sorry, mom. You’re going to have to go elsewhere. This grandchild farm is closed for business.”

“You mean you don’t ever want to have kids?” Grace asks.

“Nope. Why would I? I have all the child I’ll ever need right here,” He reaches around me to shove Christian who glares back at him.

“Fine,” Grace says bitterly, and then turns to Christian. “You’ll give me grandchildren, won’t you dear?”

“Sure,” Christian says, “Ten, fifteen years from now, that’s something I’d be willing to consider.”

“That’s not funny,” She says quickly.

“It wasn’t supposed to be,” He replies and she glares at him. “I’m not even married yet, Mom. Why don’t we let Ana graduate first before we start planning her future as the mother of your grandchildren.”

“She’ll graduate in May. We could have grandbabies by this time next year!” Grace says happily and I lean over to narrow my eyes at her.

“You know I’m sitting right here, right?”

“Yes, I very much intended for you to hear that,” She smiles and I shake my head.

“I don’t think a year is an unreasonable amount of time…” She says loftily, and Elliot gives her a solemn look.

“Well, we all knew Mia was headed down the wrong path, but I always wanted better for her than teen pregnancy…”

I laugh, but Christian reaches around to punch Elliot in the arm for the very insinuation that his baby sister could be having sex and as he turns his attention back to Bob, I hear the door that leads into the yacht slide open.

“Mr. Grey,” Taylor interrupts us. We all turn our attention in his direction and I feel my stomach drop at the look on his face.

“Yes?” Christian responds.

“Oh, uh, no sir… your father,” He holds out the satellite phone towards Christian. “It’s your assistant, sir. Mrs. Lincoln is on the line with a counter offer and she wants to know if you want her to patch her through to you?”

“Yes,” Carrick says, quickly getting off his sun lounger, and reaching for the phone in Taylor’s outstretched hand. He takes a long breath, readying himself, and then puts the phone to his ear.

“Isabel? Yes. Put her through.”

We all stare at him anxiously, while he waits, and we know the instant she’s put on the line because Carrick’s face immediately sours.

“Mrs. Lincoln,” He greets her formally, and then he frowns as he listens to whatever she says. “Absolutely not, that’s not even close to the number we gave you. I’m sorry, but you know what those salons bring in. You’ve been quick to brag about it every chance you could, remember? Because I know what the answer will be. Fine, hold.”

He pulls the phone away from his ear and then looks down at Christian impatiently. “$850,000.”

“Funny, that doesn’t sound like $1.2 million,” Christian says tersely, not looking up from the book in his lap.

“But it is an offer, Christian. An offer made 24 days before the deadline, which is 24 days sooner to have all of this over with.”

“And $350,000 short of what of I’m willing to sell them for. I’m not negotiating with her, Dad. I’ll close them down and take the loss before I give them to her for one penny less than $1.2 million.”

Carrick nods and puts the phone back to his ear. “It’s $1.2 million, Elena. I can save you a lot of trouble and tell you that it’s $1.2 million right now, and it will be $1.2 million on July 26th. Come back to me with a way to make that work, or don’t come back to me at all.” I watch him roll his eyes and then hang up the phone without another word. He hands it back to Taylor and then sighs as he settles back down into his lounger.

“This month can not be over soon enough,” He says.

“I don’t understand,” Grace chimes in. “Why are you offering to sell her the salons at all? Why not just put them on the market right away?”

“Because she’ll pay what I want,” Christian answers. “I won’t get $1.2 million on the market, hell, I won’t get $850,000. But Esclava is it for her, she’ll pay what I ask in the end. I know $1.2 million is just about everything she has, buying the salons will put her right back where she was before I saved her. She can go back to that, struggling just to keep her head above water, or she can have nothing at all.”

“I like the idea of nothing,” Grace says, and Christian actually looks up at her, surprised. “You want $1.2 million for the salons?” She continues. “I’ll pay that.”

“What?” Christian asks, as though he hasn’t heard her correctly.

“Do I write you a check or do we use a wire transfer?”

“You want to buy the salons?” Christian clarifies, his voice skeptical, but his mother nods. “Why? You’re a doctor, you don’t have the kind of time to run a business…”

“I don’t plan on running them,” Grace says. “I plan on immediately closing them down and then standing back as she watches everything she’s worked hauled out and put where it belongs, in a dump truck.”

He’s quiet for a minute, contemplating this, until he shrugs and then looks back at his mother. “I suppose I don’t have to sell. I could just fire her, close the doors…”

“$1.4 million,” Grace counter offers and again, he looks up at his mother confused. “I want to do this, Christian. I want to be the one to take the thing that makes up her entire world and rip it apart right in front of her. You have no idea how much I want that. I’d pay $10 million if that’s what it took.”

Christian looks from his mother to his father, and Carrick nods, agreeing with Grace. “Fine,” Christian says, “$1.2 million, but I’m going to donate the money from the sale to your foundation and match it with my own.”

“Deal,” Grace says, smiling broadly and reaching her hand out to shake Christian’s. He laughs, shakes his head good humoredly and takes his mother’s hand.

“I’ll call my office and have the paperwork drawn up,” Carrick says, happily. “And then I’ll call Mrs. Lincoln and let her know you’ve brokered a deal.”

Carrick turns around and practically skips inside for the satellite phone and Christian reaches over to grasp my hand.

“I’ve got to go let Ros know Esclava is sold so she can schedule some time for us to begin separating it from GEH. I’ll be in the office in our bedroom, if you need me.”

“Okay,” I nod and he leans over and kisses me before he too gets up and disappears inside.

Christian spends the rest of the afternoon in his office while I play cards with Kate, Grace and my mom. He asks to have dinner brought into him instead of coming out to eat with the family, and everytime I go to talk to him and try and convince him to come join us, he tells me he just needs fifteen more minutes, even though those 15 minutes seems to mean hours. I feel a little disappointed as I make my way back through our bedroom, but I try to at least take a little solace knowing I got him to relax for a while during the day. Hopefully when GEH is more established, a little older, and he trusts the people working around him more, he’ll be a little more willing to let go and step away from work to enjoy his free time with me and his family.

I turn down the hallway for the stairs so that I can join the rest of the family in the dining room, but find myself pausing as I pass the door to the room where Mia is. It’s been awhile since anyone has come to check on her, so I pop my head in through the door to make sure she’s doing okay.

“Hey,” I say, when I see her sitting on the bed. She looks up to me and I frown when I see tears rolling down her cheeks. Quickly, I step fully into the room, close the door behind me, and go to sit next to her on the bed. She sniffles and then breaks down into tears again, so I pull her into my arms, rubbing her arm comfortingly.

“What’s going on, Mia?” I ask her.

“Nothing,” She says quickly, but there’s no sense of conviction behind her words. It sounds more like something she’s simply been repeating over and over again to the point where not even she believes it anymore.

“Come on, you know that nobody believes that. Look, I’m not your parents, and I’m not Christian or Elliot. If you need to talk to me, you can. I’m not going to lecture you or tell you what to do. I just want to make sure you’re okay, Meems.”

She smiles a little as I use Christian’s nickname for her, but she shakes her head. “There’s nothing going on, I’m just trying to… I mean, what I want is…” She stops, pursing her lips together in frustration as she struggles to keep back the words it seems she’s actually dying to let out. Instead though, she takes a long, deep breath, and then looks up at me with hollow looking eyes. “I think I might be screwing up.”

“Yeah…” I nod, sadly. “But it’s not too late to change that. You have a choice here, Mia. You can keep fighting against everyone who wants to help you, or you can let us in and we can get through whatever it is you’re going through together. We’re not here to do anything but help you. That’s all we want to do. We want to see you be successful. We want to see you happy. Does any of this make you happy, Mia?”

She bites her lip and then looks down at the bedspread. “No,” She says quietly. “Honestly… I’m a little scared. I think I’m in over my head. I didn’t think it would be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“I know. Look, I don’t know exactly what it is you’re, uh… doing but, I experimented a little in high school and I can tell you that it doesn’t ever get better, it only ever gets worse. It’s never going to be like that first time ever again, and you could lose everything chasing something you’ll never get back. Addiction ruins people, Mia, and it tears families apart. I know when Christian thought he lost his family, when he thought he lost you… it put him in a really dark place. I don’t want to see you get there. Don’t push your family away, they’re all you have.”

“They just don’t understand,” She argues.

“Maybe not. Maybe they can’t know what you’re going through because they’re haven’t experienced what you’ve experienced and they don’t feel what you feel, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have your best interest at heart. They just want to help, Mia, and they can if you’ll let them.”

She shrugs, very non-committal, and I sigh.

“I think they want you to go talk to Dr. Flynn,” I tell her. “He’s very good, and he does know what he’s talking about. He can keep a secret, Mia and he won’t use what you tell him against you, so if you don’t want to open up to your mom and dad, or Christian, just promise me you’ll try talking to him.”

“And… he’ll really keep a secret. No matter what?”

“As long as you haven’t murdered someone,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her, but she just lets out a short, harsh laugh, and shakes her head. I look up and see the vague outline of the Seattle skyline in the distance. It’s starting to get pretty dark so I know the fireworks will be starting soon, which means everyone is probably converging on the upper deck.

“The fireworks should be starting soon,” I tell her, “Why don’t you come out and watch them with us?”

“No,” She says, frowning once again. “I just want to be alone.”

“Okay, well if you change your mind…”

She gives me a half smile as I get up off the bed, lean over to kiss her on top of her head and then disappear through her door. I decide that if I can’t convince Mia to come out and watch the fireworks with us, I’m certainly not going to let Christian miss out, so rather than head back to the main deck with everyone else, I turn back for our bedroom. Before I get to Christian’s office door though, I hear low voices inside, and I stop as I realize what they’re saying.

“Look, Christian…” My mom says, sighing as if someone has asked her to do something she really doesn’t want to. “I know that you love her. I can see that just as clearly as anyone else can. I can see that you’ve done a lot for her this summer, and that you care about her. Hell, I can even see that you’re sorry for what you did, but that doesn’t take away the other things I’ve seen.”

“That first summer, when she broke up with you and came to Savannah, she cried for a week straight. And I don’t mean that she cried off and on, I mean she did nothing but cry for an entire week. She wouldn’t eat, she wouldn’t sleep, she just cried. Sometimes it was so soft I could only barely hear it if I stood right outside her door, other times it was so loud that I could hear her anywhere in the house, in the backyard, even shut away in the car in my garage. She was in agony and I couldn’t do anything to comfort her. Then after the first week, she slept. She slept 17-20 hours a day, everyday, like some kind of self preservation instinct had kicked in to protect her from the pain. That lasted another week and when she finally woke up and got out of bed, she was a different person.”

“You see, before she met you, my daughter was the kind of girl who read fairy tales and romantic novels and believed them. She was the kind of girl who had faith in people, in the goodness of the world, and most importantly, in herself. It was that kind of unyielding optimism and ability to dream that made her who she is and got her into Harvard when no one else in our family has ever even gone to college. But, she doesn’t read fairy tales anymore. Instead she reads books about psychology and overcoming depression. She doesn’t have the same blind hope that she used to, she looks at everything for what it is and expects the worst. She doesn’t dream anymore. That Christian, is because of you. That is the impact you have had on my daughter’s life. You may love her, you may want to be with her, but if you really want what’s best for her, you have to accept that it might not be you.”

I freeze, waiting for Christian’s response. He’s quiet for a minute and my muscles tighten with anger as I imagine him sitting there across from her, her words wounding him. Not what’s best for me? She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Christian is the only things that makes me feel whole, and loved, and alive. He’s absolutely what’s best for me and I’m about to storm into the room and tell her that myself, but I stop when I hear Christian begin to speak.

“You’re wrong, Carla.” He says. “I’m not the reason her reading choices have changed. She reads book about psychology and depression because she wrote a book about psychology and depression. She dreams just as big now as she ever did, her dreams are just different. She wants to publish novels and run a publishing house and she’s well on her way to accomplishing both of those things. My COO and I just ran the numbers on SIP this last week, and the turnaround has been more resounding and successful than either one of us predicted. That’s your daughter’s work and, in my experience, you don’t get those kind of results from people who don’t believe in themselves. I know I hurt her, and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do or sacrifice to be able to take back what she went through that summer, but I can’t. The only thing I can do is love her, cherish her, and promise to never do anything to hurt her again. I intend to keep that promise, Carla. Ana means more to me than anything in the world. More than my company, more than my family, more than my own life, and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t give her or do for her to make her safe and happy.”

“Fine,” My mom replies. “Christian, all I care about is that my daughter is happy and healthy and that she has the ability to achieve everything she’s worked so hard for. If you don’t stand in the way of any of those things, then I won’t say another word against you. But it isn’t my approval that you need to worry about.”

“What do you mean?” Christian asks.

“Ana has never put much stock into what I say or think, but that’s not true when it comes to Ray. Ana worships him, and his approval does matter to her. Do you think he’s going to approve of you when he finds out about the things you’ve done? When he gets back here and he finds out how you broke her, do you think he’ll walk her down an aisle in front of all of our friends and family, place her hand in yours, and ask you to take care of her for the rest of her life?”

“I love her,” Christian says defensively.

“So does he,” My mom argues. “He loves her more than I’ve ever seen any man love a child, and she loves him. If you want any future with her, you had better be prepared for what you’re going to say to him because you’re going to get one shot with him. One chance to prove to him that you’re a man he can trust his daughter’s future to, and a multibillion dollar empire, a fancy yacht, and a private jet won’t affect his judgement.”

“Those are just things, that’s not everything I want to give her. I want to care for her, I want to give her whatever future she wants. I want to be the man her father wants for her.”

“Then you have a year to prove that,” My mom says, there is a brief moment of silence and some muffled shuffling noises that I assume are from them standing up, and then my mom speaks again. “Don’t hurt my daughter again, Christian.”

“I promise you, I won’t,” He says.

“Good. Then, thank-you for sitting down and talking with me.”

I can hear them moving again so I quickly stand up straight and ease open the door to the office, trying to look surprised to find them both there and not like I’ve just been eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Ana,” My mom says, a little guiltily, when she sees me.

“We’re, uh… We’re about to pull into the bay. Everyone else is on the back deck, I wanted to come and get Christian so he didn’t miss the fireworks.”

“Well, we better get out there then,” My mom says. She gives me a tight smile and then reaches over and grips Christian reassuringly on his upper arm. He nods towards her in recognition, but as she turns to leave the room, I pull on him to keep him behind with me, and then wrap my arms around him.

“I love you, Christian,” I tell him.

“I love you too, baby,” He says, but his tone is a little off as I think he’s caught off guard by my seemingly out of the blue assertion. I pull my head away from his chest, keeping my arms locked tightly around him as I look up into his eyes.

“I just want you to know that, and that nothing, or no one could change that. Nobody. You and me, that’s all I care about.”

I hear him exhale, like he’d been holding his breath and then he leans down and presses his lips into mine. I kiss him back, my arms wrapping under his and hooking over the back of his shoulders so I can hold myself to him as closely as possible. When he pulls away, he leaves one last, gentle lingering kiss on my lips and then softly nuzzles his nose against mine, eliciting a gratified moan from me.

“Come on,” He says quietly, “Surprisingly, I don’t think they’d hold the fireworks for me.”

“Sucks just being one of the people, huh?” I ask and he laughs, then takes my hand and leads me out onto the back deck where everyone is already waiting, curled up under blankets on the various loungers or the sofa on the open deck. Christian pulls me down onto a large, circular lounger that is probably big enough for four people, but that we have to ourselves. The staff bring us a blanket since it is kind of chilly with the sea breeze blowing over us, and Christian tugs the blanket over the both of us and then wraps me in his arms while we stare up at the inky black sky.

“It’s so nice out here,” Kate says, under Elliot’s arm and laying so that her head is resting on his chest. “You don’t get to see the stars much in the city with all the light pollution.”

“Or clouds,” Elliot says, with a laugh. “Don’t forget where you are, babe.”

“Well it’s perfect tonight, not a rain cloud in the sky.”

“Praise be!” Elliot exclaims, a little over dramatically and we all laugh.

“Mom?” A small voice says behind us, and Christian and I both turn to look over the back of the lounger to see Mia standing in the doorway from the open deck.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Grace replies, clearly surprised to see her.

“Can I come watch the fireworks with you?” She asks timidly, and Grace smiles at her.

“Of course you can. I’d really like that.”

The corner of Mia’s mouth turns up into a small smile and she walks forward and climbs onto the lounger with her Mom who wraps her up in the blanket with her and kisses her, hard, on the cheek.

There’s a loud bang and suddenly the sky above us is illuminated with golden sparkles. Christian’s arms tighten around me again and I settle back down and stare up at the fireworks exploding over our heads. It’s beautiful and awe inspiring as the entire sky above us is filled with bright, colorful light, and the glittering trails seem to rain down over the top of us while the cheers from the shore echo out over the water. More than once, I gasp as the entire sky is lit up, and the boom from the explosion rattles deep in my chest. Every so often I feel Christian leave soft kisses against my hair, or against my temple, and when I turn to look at him, I see that he’s not focused on the fireworks display at all.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers, and when my teeth sink into my bottom lip to try and hold back my smile, he leans over and kisses me. There isn’t the sense of hesitation in his kiss that has been there since the Mayor’s Ball, but it isn’t an aggressive, fiery assault either. His teeth pull my lip, releasing it, and after his tongue brushes lightly over me, it slips purposefully into my mouth and begins massaging mine. I can taste the lingering remains from the wine he drank at dinner and it’s intoxicating, sweeping me away and wrapping me into him while his lips and tongue move gently, but purposefully, against mine.

I let out a low, soft moan, so that no one can hear but him and then I actually tense in surprise when I feel his hand brush up my thigh and then grab onto me so he can hook my leg over his hip, and I can feel his erection pressing into me. Oh…

“Let me take you to bed,” He whispers against my lips.

“Really?”

“Yes,” He affirms, and there isn’t any hesitation in his voice, only lustful need. I turn to look up at the sky, now completely filled with exploding light as rocket after rocket launches into the air and detonates into a glittering shower. The grand finale.

“Take me to bed, Christian,” I whisper, turning back to face him and he smiles and then presses his lips into mine again, only pulling away when the sounds of the fireworks go silent and the cheering, both from our families and the low, dull roar of the people on the shore, echo around us.

“Well that was really something,” Carrick says, “Being over the water really does make a difference.”

“It does,” Grace agrees. “And I’m so happy we had everyone here to enjoy it together.” She squeezes and kisses Mia once more and then turns to face us. “Thank you, Christian, for this wonderful weekend.”

“My pleasure,” He says. I feel him reach down to adjust his erection under the blanket, and then he stands and looks down at me. “We should be going ashore now, should we go pack?”

“Yeah,” I croak. He smiles, amused by the inability for me to pull off his perfect composure when I know what packing really means.

“We should get ready to go too,” Grace says, pulling the blanket back from her and Mia. Christian takes my hand and quickly leads me back inside, probably not wanting to walk to our room with his parents. I almost have trouble keeping up with him as he pulls me up the stairs to the 2nd deck. Once we’re in the room, he closes the door behind us and then pushes me into it, his lips coming down on mine as he reaches for the hem of my t-shirt. I lift my arms into the air, helping him remove it as quickly as possible and once he tosses it to the floor, he lifts me so that I can wrap my legs around his waist and continue to kiss him while he carries me off to the bed.

“What are you going to say when we dock and we still have to pack?” I ask him breathily, as he leaves a trail of kisses down my neck towards my collar bones and his fingers begin work on the buttons of my shorts.

“That was just an excuse, I had the staff pack everything for us once we turned back around for Seattle.” He says, not taking his lips off my skin. “I’m more concerned that I won’t be finished with you when it’s time to disembark.”

I groan, as his fingers reach under the band of my shorts, pulling them down and taking my panties with them. My skin feels hot as the need I feel for him, to feel him inside of me, blossoms out of control. I need to touch him, to feel his skin pressed against mine while he makes love to me, and so I reach out for his shirt and tug it upwards. He doesn’t stop me. He helps me, and once it’s gone, and I can drink in the glorious perfection that is his perfectly sculpted body, I lean forward and press my lips into his chest.

He exhales sharply, but it isn’t a sound of pain, it’s a sound of pleasure. It gives me a rush of confidence which I cling onto as I grip onto his arm and pull myself out from underneath him, pushing him back onto the bed so that he’s on his back before I climb on top and lower my lips to his. His hands reach up and unclasp my bra, yanking it off of me while I move my lips down the sharp, chiseled line of his jaw.

“My pants, Anastasia,” He says, his voice now rough and gravelly.

I smile and begin moving down, pausing only to run my tongue over the particularly inviting lines of his pectoral muscles and abs. When I get down to his jeans, I swirl my tongue briefly through the well kempt hair peeking out over the top of his waistband and then move further down, yanking open the tightly fastened button on his fly with my teeth.

“Oh fuck, Ana,” Christian groans. “Your mouth. I want your mouth.”

He lifts his hips off the bed so I can pull down the waist of his pants, but I abandon my efforts the moment his erection is free so I can take him into my mouth. He lets out a long, drawn out breath and entangles his fingers into my hair as I wrap my lips around him, my tongue swirling around the head of his erection every time I pull back. He thrusts forward, so I give him a moment of control, relishing in the deep moans of satisfaction I draw from him.

“Come here,” He breathes, releasing my hair, but when I move up to kiss him, he stops me. “No, I want to go down on you while you suck me. Turn around.”

He pushes me back into the bed, flips me over, and drags me back up to his face. I gasp when his lips make contact with me, and when he reaches down, grasps his erection, and guides it to my lips, I open my mouth and suck him again.

He groans into me as I pull him deep into my mouth, and the combination of his moans against me and his erection, hard and smooth against my lips and tongue, awakens the carnal animal inside of me that only Christian can bring out. I moan and suck harder, take him deeper, use my hand to stroke him in opposition to the movements of my mouth. In response, he nearly devours me with his mouth. He dips his tongue inside of me and swirls it around, fucks me with his fingers while his lips work incessantly over my clitoris. I begin to feel heat rising within me, causing me to tighten around his fingers with the promise of impending release, but he stops.

“Don’t come,” He tells me, not taking his mouth away from me, and the feel of his breath against me does not help me obey him. “I’m not ready to be finished with you. I want to be in you for that, but if you come in my mouth, you’ll unman me, and I won’t get the chance.”

“Then fuck me, Christian,” I plead, removing him from my mouth but continuing to stroke him with my hand. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“Well, if you insist…” He says, leaving one last kiss on my clitoris, before pulling me away from him. I turn around while he positions his erection for me to lower myself onto and while I straddle his waist, he reaches down and rubs his thumb lightly over my clitoris.

“Easy now, baby,” He tells me, as the head of his erection comes in contact with my opening. “Nice and slow. I want to feel you taking every inch of me.”

I whimper a little as he breaks through my lips and I slowly lower myself down onto him, his thumb continuing to massage my clitoris. His free hand grasps tightly to my hips, and once he’s fully inside of me, he holds me down and I rock my hips back and forth.

“Ohhhh my god,” I breath, as I feel him stirring me up inside. His face tightens as he watches me moving back and forth, and his tongue slides across his top lip hungrily.

“That’s it, baby,” He encourages me. “Nice and slow.”

I pull up, and there is a shakiness to my breathing as I feel him sliding out of me, but before I rise all the way off of him, I stop, and then sink back down. My bottom lip begins to tremble as I relish in the pleasure of him inside of me, of really feeling him inside of me. The slowness, the deliberation, it isn’t about the rough, carnal friction or the pounding rhythm that drives us both to the edge of release, it’s about the connection of this moment. About being as close as we can be to one another and how good we can make each other feel through this physical expression of our love. My mouth falls open as the pleasure deep inside of me spikes and I lock eyes with him, finding them filled with his own strained sense of indulgence.

“Put your knees on my shoulders,” He tells me, and so I shift my legs to do as he says. “Now lean back. A little further…” He folds his knees upward, giving me something to grab onto as I slowly lean backwards, and once I get into the position he wants, he thrusts deeply up into me, directly into the place on the front wall of my vagina that is the epicenter of all my pleasure receptors. My body immediately tightens as the shock of pleasure sweeps through me and for a moment, I almost lose my ability to hold myself up with my legs. His other hand moves up to my other hip and he holds me in place as he thrusts forward again, once again hitting me in that perfect place. My thighs clench together and I whimper as he picks up speed.

“Oh my god, Christian!” I cry out, as I feel my entire body begin to shudder, building quickly to what I know will be an overpowering orgasm.

“Right there, baby?” He asks, his voice tight, like he’s pushing off his own release until I find mine. I nod quickly, unable to speak through high keening pouring through my lips in time with his movements. He groans loudly as he throws his head back and thrusts up into me harder. His hands pull me down onto him each time he moves, and soon the heat inside of me begins to bubble out of control, the tightening in my core winding to the point of breaking, and with one final thrust, I detonate.

“Christian!” I scream. My entire body begins to shake as I’m overcome with the force of my orgasm and I collapse on top of him. His fingers grasp my chin and turn my face so that his lips can claim mine. I kiss him back, trying to use my tongue in the commanding way he uses his, but I can’t maintain the kiss as several pleasure driven cries come unbidden from my mouth into his.

“So fucking hot,” He growls, before forcing his tongue back into my mouth. “That’s it baby, give it to me. Fuck, you’re going to make me come.”

I push down on him, moving my hips back and forth to coax him towards the same release he’s given me.

“Come for me, Christian,” I tell him, unable to keep back the needy keen to my voice “I want you to come inside of me.”

“Yes,” He whispers, and after three more hard thrusts, he groans and then finds his release. I let out a sharp, exalted breath and then lie down over him, pressing my body flush against his and reaching up to grip tightly to his hair while he fucks me through his orgasm.

“I’ve missed this,” He whispers when he comes down and his movements inside of me have stilled. I take a deep steadying breath, prop myself up on my elbows, and stare down into his eyes again.

“Me too. I love you, Christian,” I tell him and he lets out a low, approving moan.

“I love you too, Anastasia.”

I smile and then lean down to kiss him, but just before my lips touch his, there is a loud banging against the bedroom door.

“Alright you two, break it up,” Elliot’s voice call to us. “We’re here, let’s go.”

“Fuck off, Elliot!” Christian yells back. I laugh as he rolls his eyes and we quickly get out of the bed and dress so we can leave the yacht and re-enter the real world.

Next Chapter

I’m a little late leaving the office Friday afternoon as I make my way uptown into North Seattle for lunch with Luke. I’m not entirely sure where I’m going and I’ve had to make a few last second lane changes in order to be able to turn where the GPS tells me to. There is an angry honk behind me as I make another quick right turn so that I can make it over to the right freeway on-ramp and I realize that I’ve cut someone off. I turn to give an apologetic look to the driver glaring at me as they speed past and then quickly glance around for any photographers. The last thing I need with Christian right now is a Google Alert to come out blasting the headline, Anastasia Steele: World’s Worst Driver. Especially since it should be Prescott driving, not me, but I’ve, sort of… left her behind.

I feel a wave of guilt as I replay sneaking out of SIP to avoid Prescott seeing me in my head. I know that this probably isn’t the best time to be doing things like this because Christian has been more paranoid than usual following his come to Jesus moment about Elena, and he’s only added more security to everything around us as a result. The code to the elevator was changed, again, all of the security doors at GEH have been recoded and new badges have been issued to all employees, the surveillance system for all GEH properties, and even our apartment, is undergoing an in-depth overhaul, and three new employees have been hired onto Christian’s security team, none of which are Luke Sawyer.

This last issue is the reason I had to leave Prescott behind. I have to see Luke this afternoon and she would have stopped me. I need whatever information he’s been able to dig up so I feel prepared to meet with Elena later. I take a deep breath as I’m filled with simultaneous feelings of dread and satisfaction at the thought. After literally years of fighting against her, I’m finally going to get to tell her that she’s lost today, that Christian is ready to move on and leave her behind and she can go fuck off. But, I’m not naive enough to believe it’s going to be that easy. It’s never easy with Elena Lincoln, and so I want to be armed with whatever ammunition Luke could find.

As I pull off of the I-5 North, my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of an incoming call through my stereo speakers and it makes me jump as I expect to see Christian’s name flash across the screen in the dash. It isn’t Christian though, it’s my mother, so I reach for the button on the steering wheel to answer the phone.

“Hey, Mom. I’m on my way to meet a friend for lunch so I don’t have a lot of time to talk. What’s up?”

“Ana, I just don’t know about this trip…” She says hesitantly and I frown.

“Why?” I ask, my voice hard.

“I just think it’s going to be a little uncomfortable.”

“Mom, Christian is flying you out here in a private jet and you’ll be spending the weekend on a luxury yacht, I don’t think comfort is something you have to worry about.”

“You know what I mean, Ana.”

“Mom…” I groan. “You have to get over this. Look, things are different now. We’ve both grown up a little bit and we’ve moved on from what happened. I love him, he loves me, and he’s not going anywhere. Please don’t make me choose between him and you.”

She’s silent for a long moment. “I just don’t know if I’m going to be able to forgive him for what he put you through. I don’t know if I want to. Watching you go through what you did after you first broke up was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do as a mother. Knowing there was nothing I could do to take that pain away, knowing that he caused it… I don’t want that to happen to you again.”

“I know,” I say, quietly. “But that’s in the past now. I’ve forgiven him and you need to too. Just come out here, please? Maybe you two just need to talk. He loves me mom. He really loves me and he just wants to make me happy. He does make me happy. Just give him a chance.”

“Fine,” She agrees, finally. “I’ll give him a chance but don’t expect me to come out there and fawn all over him because he has a nice boat and all of this money now. If he wants to date my daughter, he needs to show me that he’s serious this time and that he’s not going to hurt you like he did last time.”

I sigh. “Okay, Mom,” I tell her, more to appease her than anything. “Look, I’m pulling up in front of the restaurant so I’ve got to go.”

“Okay, see you next week,” She says.

“Okay, love you. Bye,” I jab my finger into the button on the steering wheel, exhaling a long calming breath as I reach over to pick my purse up off the passenger’s seat and then quickly glance up and down the street to see if I can see anyone looking suspicious before opening the door. I think the coast is clear, so I step out of the Lincoln, feeling paranoid as I look over my shoulder while I lock the door, and then hurry across the street. I don’t know what I’m more afraid of, a photographer jumping out and snapping proof for Christian that I’ve snuck out without security to meet Luke, or Taylor pulling up in the SUV and dragging me back to GEH because Christian already knows.

Thankfully, the latter doesn’t happen and I make it into the restaurant without being accosted by any flashing lights. Luke already has a table so the hostess leads me to the back of the restaurant where he’s seated, leaving menus and a glass of water behind before she leaves.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” I say when we’re alone, but he ignores me and instead, quickly scans the restaurant before turning and narrowing his eyes at me.

“What are you doing here without security?” He asks, sternly.

“You think I could have gotten here with security?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. “Christian isn’t exactly president of the Luke Sawyer fan club right now.”

“Then why didn’t you just ask me to meet you at SIP? Or somewhere closer to you?”

“Because it wouldn’t have been any better had you come to my work and there’s a better chance that I could have been seen by the paparazzi in downtown Seattle. Trust me, it’s better that Christian doesn’t know about this lunch, Luke. He doesn’t know that I’ve had you looking into Elena and I’d like to keep it that way.” He frowns but nods and looks up as the waitress approaches our table to take our orders. She gives him a flirty smile, which to my surprise he returns, and when she leaves, he leans over a little bit so he can check her out as she walks away.

“Luke Sawyer!” I exclaim, reaching over and thwaping him on the head. He turns back to look at me, his eyebrows creased together in confusion.

“What?” He asks.

“You know what. You have a girlfriend, remember? Maybe you shouldn’t be staring at the waitress’s ass. That’s not something girlfriends are usually a fan of.”

“Yeah, well Leah’s not a fan of a lot of things, so…” He says, and as he reaches out for his water to take a drink, I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Uh oh, what’s going on?” I ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“She’s just a little… clingy. I don’t know. I think I’m over it.”

“You’re over it? Already? Haven’t you only been dating a few weeks?” I ask him skeptically and he nods.

“Honestly, that’s about par for me. Don’t get me wrong, Leah’s hot, and she’s great in bed, and we’ve had a good time together for the most part, but I’m not really a relationship kind of guy. It’s too hard with what I do.” He hesitates for a minute and then looks up at me again. “Besides, I think I’m going to try to get a job at Harvard, working campus security for real this time.”

“Luke… I don’t want you to uproot your life just for me. I mean, that’s a big move for only a few months. Don’t give up your girlfriend for me.”

He shrugs. “It’s not for you, not with Leah anyway. I’m just ready to move on. I’d planned to move back to Cambridge with you anyway, before Grey fired me as your CPO. I just didn’t change my plans after he did. This is what I do, and I care about you, Ana. I want to be around. You’re a public figure now, a target, and I want to make sure that you’re safe.”

I purse my lips together as I consider this. I know this is true, it’s why Luke is both the best and the worst person for this job. More than anyone else on Christian’s team, I would trust Luke with my life, not that I think it would ever come down to that. But, I trust him, not just because I know he’s good at his job, but because I know how deeply he cares about me. That’s the crux of the issue, though. He can balance our friendship with his job, but I can’t. Every time he’s done something that’s got him fired, it’s been my fault. I talked him into taking me to Vermont that weekend in Cambridge, I asked him to go with me to run errands that day when I knew I was supposed to take Prescott, I started the game of keep away with the phone that night on the couch in Christian’s apartment, and I made him go out to that club while Christian was in New York.

I’m the problem, not Luke, but there is a problem, and I’m going to have to find a way to fix it before I’m going to be able to convince Christian to bring Luke back.

“Let me see what I can do. I’ll talk to Christian tonight, and maybe…” I begin, but Luke shakes his head to cut me off.

“I don’t need you to fight for me, Ana. I think it’s better this way anyway. He can’t fire me if he’s not my boss.”

The waitress returns, sets our plates in front of us, and Luke winks at her as she turns to leave. I roll my eyes and begin to eat.

“How’re things between you and Grey going anyway? Last I talked to you, you were ready to leave and then the next thing I know, Taylor is coming downstairs to tell me and Kate to go home.”

“Oh, yeah… I decided I didn’t want to go. We’re good. Great, really. We’re actually back to normal… almost.”

“Almost?”

I sigh. “Well he’s finally come around on Elena, so that’s made things a lot easier between us. He admits to what they were and what she did to him but, now that he sees the abuse side of it, he’s struggling to come to terms with what she did to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s having issues with his body, like a kind of disconnect. He doesn’t feel comfortable in his own skin. Flynn told me that it’s a kind of body dysmorphia that’s common for victims of physical abuse and sexual assault, but it’s… hard. That first day when it hit him, he wouldn’t let me touch him at all. He’s gotten better, I mean, he hugs me, kisses me, and we can cuddle on the couch or in bed as long as he’s the one who wraps his arms around me…”

“What about sex?” He asks.

I shake my head.

“And, he still won’t go back to see Flynn. I tried to get him to go with me yesterday but he doesn’t want to talk about it, so he doesn’t. I don’t want to push him… I mean, his mood is good. He’s generally acting pretty normal but the touch thing… It’s an issue.”

“Well, hopefully he comes around soon and goes back into therapy,” Luke says sympathetically, and I nod.

“Yeah, but watching him go through this is making me murderously angry, which is why I wanted to see you today.”

“To murder me?” He asks with a sly grin.

“No,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “Carrick and I are giving Elena the paperwork to buy the salons today. I know she’s not going to take it well, so I was hoping you’d found something, anything, that I could use to persuade her to go quietly.”

He frowns. “I’m sorry, Ana. I’ve been looking, I’ve digging everywhere I can think, but I can’t find anything that looks shady. She hasn’t gotten so much as a speeding ticket since the trial. I’ve got nothing. Even all the photographs being leaked to the press… I’ve traced the source and it’s not her.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. Whoever it is sends the pictures from an email registered to the extremely clever pseudonym, Jane Doe. When I found the email and got into it, I found the forwards of the pictures but they all come from different phones with different numbers. The area codes on the phones and the addresses they’re all registered to are in New York, and the addresses are to different houses that are listed online as being for sale.”

“Okay, well she was in New York. How do you know she didn’t just buy them when she was there and registered them to a fake address?”

“Because it started before she went to New York, remember? I mean, maybe it is her. I don’t know, but it if is, she’s covered her trail well enough that I can’t find a definitive connection without actually catching her using the phone. I’ve looked into her personal bank accounts, the accounts for Esclava, credit card statements… I can’t find any money transfers from TMZ or even ones that look out of place. I don’t know what else to look for.”

“There has to be something,” I argue. “This is Elena Lincoln we’re talking about, I know there is something. What about Isaac? Is there a way she could be using him to cover up what she’s doing?”

“Who’s Isaac?”

“Her submissive.”

Luke’s brow furrows as he contemplates this. “Yeah, maybe. But I’d need more information on him. Do you know his last name?”

“No.”

“Well, I’ll find out. I’ll keep looking, Ana. I promise you if there’s something to find, I’ll find it.”

“Okay,” I nod, and take a calming breath, before changing the subject. Thankfully, our lunch is much lighter once we move on, but I get so lost in our easy conversation that when I look at the time, I realize I’m running a little late to meet Carrick. I apologize and leave some money on the table for the bill before booking it out of the restaurant and driving a little too quickly back into downtown Seattle.

When I pull into the parking garage at GEH, I notice that Christian’s space is empty which means that Carrick was able to get Christian out of the building before Elena got there. He’s been waffling back in forth on whether or not he wanted to be in this meeting or not, but with everything he’s struggling with right now, Carrick thought it would be better to go into this without him. Even Ros was supportive. She’d promised us that she’d create an emergency to get him out of the office if she had to. I chew on my bottom lip as I step into the elevator and press the button for the 8th floor, wondering if that ended up being necessary.

When I get to the top floor, I swipe my badge against the pad outside the double glass doors and step into the executive suite. Andrea isn’t at her desk so I’m greeted by the unfamiliar girl sitting in Leila’s old seat, and she smiles at me with a cool, professional kind of deference.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to Grey House,” She says, “Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m Anastasia Steele, I have a four o’clock with Mr. Grey,” I tell her and her smile morphs into a look of shock.

“Anastasia Steele?” She repeats, like she hasn’t heard me correctly. I nod and her eyes widen even further. “I’m sorry, Miss Steele. Mr. Grey…”

“Ana!” I hear Andrea’s voice say urgently and I turn and see her coming out of the large conference room on the other side of the lobby. I nod once to the receptionist and then smile at Andrea as I walk over to meet her. “We’re all set up in here.” She tells me, shooting a nervous look towards the elevators as she gestures to the door she just walked through. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” I tell her, and she nods and opens the conference room door for me. Carrick is inside typing on a Macbook, but he looks up and smiles at me as I enter the room and close the door.

“Hey, Ana,” He greets me. “How was your afternoon?”

“Good. Where’d you send Christian off to?” I ask.

“Actually, Elliot took care of that for me. He told him he needed to go down to the job site to oversee something for the new building. He’s promised me that he’ll be able to keep him down there all afternoon.”

“Oh, good,” I say. “You can do this without him being here, right? You’re okay with that?”

“Oh believe me, Anastasia. Nothing will make me happier,” Carrick says with a vindictive kind of smile and it makes me laugh. I take the seat next to him, and pull out my laptop to answer some emails and read over some of the new query letters that had been pulled by the agents this afternoon. I’m about halfway through the summary of a sci-fi novel about a small colony that was sent to terraform mars for the survival of the human race, when my attention is diverted by a small knock on the door.

My stomach does a kind of back flip as my nerves peak and I quickly close the lid to my laptop and sit up straight as Carrick and I both turn our attention to the door.

“Come in,” He says, with a reserved authority that I don’t know if I’d be able to use in my current nervous state. He reaches over, grips my hand firmly, and then pulls it away as the door slowly opens and we watch Andrea motion for Elena to step inside. I stare back into her flat blue eyes which immediately harden as she looks between Carrick and I.

“Where’s Christian?” She asks.

“Have a seat, Mrs. Lincoln,” Carrick says coolly, motioning to the seat across the table from us, but she doesn’t move.

“Where is Christian?” She repeats.

Carrick’s eyes narrow and the muscle in his jaw tightens. “Mr. Grey had other obligations to see to this afternoon. He’s a very busy man. As his appointed legal counsel, I assure you I am prepared to continue this meeting without him.”

Elena sucks a sharp breath in through her nose and releases it slowly as she settles down into the chair. Her eyes shift once to me, raking over me with pointed appraisal, before turning back to Carrick.

“Mrs. Lincoln,” Carrick begins with a kind of detached, professionalism that I assume comes from years of practice at being emotionless in front of criminals. “Mr. Grey has asked you here today to inform you that it is his intention to terminate his proprietorship of Esclava Beauty Salon LTD and it’s DBA for Grey Enterprises Holdings. In thirty days’ time, the salons and all related properties, securities, inventories, merchandise, furniture, equipment, and other non-listed assets, both tangible and intangible, will be placed on the market for immediate sale. Should you wish to purchase the salons and all related licensing, Mr. Grey will allow you to do so as long as the Agreement for Sale of Business is signed on or before July 26th.” He picks up a thick stack of paper, held together by a staple in the upper right hand corner, and slides it across the table towards Elena. “Do you have any questions?”

Elena’s mouth falls open slightly as she picks up the sale agreement off the table and begins to read over it, the disbelief in her eyes growing more pronounced the more she reads. She drops the contract on the table, an irritated breath escaping her lips, and then she rolls her eyes.

“What, is this supposed to scare me?” She asks, looking back up at Carrick and he smiles and leans back in his chair.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, was I not clear? This is supposed to get rid of you. You see, Christian wants to sell his business because he wants you gone. He doesn’t want to talk to you, he doesn’t want to see you, he just wants you out of his life. So just sign the form and you can take your salons and I can take my son back.”

“And why would I do that?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Because you don’t have a choice,” I interject, and she turns to look at me, clearly annoyed, like my mere presence is inconveniencing her. “Look, Elena. Buy the salons, or don’t. Literally, nobody cares. Either way, Christian is selling. He’s only offering you this in the first place so that he doesn’t have to waste his precious time finding a buyer for your pathetic little business. He’s done with you, whether you like it or not.”

“You think that’s the first time I’ve heard that from him?” She asks, and she actually lets out a small, amused laugh. “You don’t think he’s told me that he wants nothing to do with me a thousand times, over and over again. It’s always the same. He throws his little temper tantrum and then two weeks later he’s on the phone or at my door. That’s what this is, and I’m not playing along.”

“No, it’s different this time. He knows what you are and he wants you as far away from him as possible,” I tell her.

“Does he?” She replies, disinterestedly. She sighs, pushes her chair away from the conference table, and gets to her feet. “Well, this has all been an extraordinary waste of my time, so, if you’ll excuse me, I own a business that doesn’t run itself…”

“Actually, you don’t own a business,” Carrick interrupts her. “But you could. I’ll just need you to sign next to the blue flag.” He pulls a pen out of his jacket pocket, sets it on top of the contract and looks up at her expectantly.

“I’m not signing anything without speaking to Christian first,” She says.

“Oh, Elena,” Carrick laughs. “That’s the beauty of all of this. You don’t get to speak with Christian. Ever again. You get to deal with me now. Exclusively.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen…”

“Jesus, what don’t you get here, Elena?” I snap at her. “We’re not playing a game with you. This is done. Finished. Game over. You’ve lost. We’re not doing this with you anymore. Now, we all know you’re going to sign this contract in the end, so rather than waste thirty days, why don’t you just sign it now, bow out with a little grace, and we can all move on with our lives.”

“You see, that’s the problem, Anastasia. I’m not going to sign this. You think I’m just going to let go? Christian Grey is a very valuable asset to me and I do not take that for granted. He’s mine, and I’m not going to give him up. If you want to fight me for him, then let’s fight. Just know that it is a battle that I have no intention of losing. I will destroy him before I let you take him from me and no one knows how to do that better than I do. Push me, and I will take what he loves most and I will break it and watch him crumble.”

“And what is that, Elena?” I ask. “GEH? Me? You’re not going to out maneuver Christian when it comes to business and I know what you are and what you do. I won’t let you get to me. You can’t touch me and I won’t let you use me to get to him. If you want to fight, you’re going to be fighting on your own. We’re done.”

“We’ll see,” She says and she shoots Carrick a contemptuous glare before turning around and leaving the conference room, the door slamming closed behind her.

“Ugh, I want to break her in half like a twig,” I grumble and Carrick grabs onto my shoulder supportively as he reaches across the table for the contract and then slides it back into its folder.

“Trust me, Ana, so do I. But, I don’t think antagonizing her is the smartest move. We’ve won the battle, there’s no point in dragging out the war. I don’t want Christian to get dragged into this. Let’s just get through the next thirty days as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

“And if it’s not painless? If she makes this as difficult as we both know she will? I don’t take her threats idly Carrick, you shouldn’t either.”

Carrick frowns. “Trust me, I don’t take her threats idly either. We just need to keep her away from Christian and she won’t be able to do anything. Ana, I think it’s best that you let me handle this. I know you want to know what’s going on and I understand that, but I think you’re just a way for her to get to him. I think it’s best if you let me and my legal team deal with her until the sale is done.”

I frown. I know that he’s right. There isn’t really anything I can do to make the situation better but there is a potential for me to make this a lot worse, especially for Christian. I just don’t like the idea of being kept in the dark and not being able to anticipate what’s coming, because I know she’s not going to go quietly. I want to protect Christian from that.

“Just… keep me in the loop, okay?” I ask him. “I’ll let you deal with her and I’ll stay out of it, but I want to know what’s going on. I don’t want her to blindside me with anything.”

“Deal,” He agrees.

“Deal,” I repeat and he leans over to hug me before beginning to pack up so we can both go home.

When I get back to Escala, I find Prescott anxiously pacing the floor in the foyer, waiting for me. When the doors to the elevator open and I step out onto the marble floor, her head shoots up in my direction and there is a brief flash of relief that crosses her face, followed immediately by anger.

“Miss Steele,” She says firmly. “It is entirely impossible for me to perform the duties to which I have been assigned if you refuse to inform me of your schedule. You should not have left the office this afternoon without my knowledge or without asking me to accompany you. Mr. Grey has issued strict instructions that you are not to go anywhere unattended.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I reply. I try for contrite, but I’m not sure I succeed. I know she’s just doing her job but that doesn’t make her any more appealing to be around. Actually, knowing that it’s her job to just follow me around everywhere and watch everything I do, makes me want her around less.

“Well see that it doesn’t happen again,” She says, and she turns and storms angrily into Taylor’s office on the right side of the foyer. I sigh and walk into the apartment. As much as I don’t want to listen to her, I guess with what’s going on with Elena, and until Christian feels a little more comfortable, I need to play nice with my security. Really, I just need to stop comparing her to Luke. She’s not going to be my best friend, and that’s okay. Taylor and Christian aren’t best friends… Although, Taylor seems to be a lot more pleasant to be around than the Robocop I have assigned to me…

There are expense reports, a book tour proposal, and four different mock ups for cover art in my bag that I had intended to review once I got home, but I decide that I can put it off for a few hours. I let my bag slump to the floor and then collapse onto the couch, kick my shoes off, and use a pillow to cover my face and block out the light streaming in through the windows. It feels good to just be still and do nothing, try to clear my mind, and focus on nothing but breathing in and out, but I’m only able to lay there for a few minutes until I hear the elevator doors open and Christian comes thundering into the foyer.

“Prescott!” He yells angrily, and immediately, I pull the pillow away from my face and sit bolt upright on the couch. His gaze falls on me, silently warning me to stay put, but when Prescott comes out of Taylor’s office he turns on her.

“Yes, sir?” She asks.

“You’re fired,” He says firmly, “Get your things and go.”

“Christian!” I protest, but, without turning around to look at me, he holds up a single finger to silence me. Prescott looks slightly shocked, but overcomes it quickly. She nods and then disappears back into the office. Once she’s gone, Christian turns his anger on me.

“Do you want to tell me about your afternoon?”

Oh shit.

“What do you mean?” I ask trying to be coy and he reaches into his suit jacket, pulls out his iPhone and hands it to me. I look down at it and then feel a deep sinking feeling as I read the open Google Alert splashed across the screen and the pictures that accompany it. Who the fuck is getting these shots, and how are they doing it without me seeing them every goddamn time?

---

Google Alert: Anastasia Steele

X17Online, June 25th 2010: Street Style Watch. Anastasia Steele was the epitome of classic, chic style as she ran errands this afternoon in uptown Seattle. Her immaculately cut sheath dress (by Stella McCartney) retails for over $1300. Clearly, there are advantages to dating the billionaire heartthrob, Christian Grey.

---

Well that’s not so bad… I look up at him, confused.

“You don’t like my dress?” I ask him and he narrows his eyes at me.

“There are a lot of things I don’t like about that picture, Anastasia, but the dress is not one of them. First of all, that restaurant is almost twenty minutes away from your office, and you don’t have security with you. Second of all, that black car parked a few spaced down from the front door? That car belongs to Luke Sawyer.”

Shit. “Okay, yeah. I met him for lunch.”

“Why?” He snaps.

I take a deep breath and stare very purposefully at him. “I had lunch with him because I’m having him look into Elena Lincoln,” I explain and his brow furrows.

“What do you mean you’re having him look into Elena Lincoln?” He repeats.

“He’s been looking for a while. That’s actually how he found the plane confirmation in her email. He thought it might have been her leaking photos of me to the press.” His expression shifts as the anger slowly melts out of his face and is replaced with confusion.

“Is it?” He asks and I’m filled with surprising, but overwhelming relief to, for the first time, not hear any kind of defensiveness in his question.

“I don’t know. He can’t trace it back to her but, who else it could be? It’s not like pictures of me are worth enough for the paparazzi to be following me around 24/7 and in every instance that these pictures are taken, there aren’t any photographers around. Someone is following me and whoever it is seems to have a vested interest in causing trouble for us. Besides Elena, I don’t know who that could be.”

He takes a breath and his mouth moves a little as he mulls over what I’ve just said. It takes a second or two but eventually, he nods. “Okay, I’ll look into it.”

“Already taken care of,” I tell him. “Besides, Luke has a lot of free time on his hands to fill these days.”

Christian rolls his eyes. “I have people better suited than Sawyer to take care of these kinds of things, Ana.”

“Maybe,” I shrug. “But I’d rather you didn’t have to think about her. I don’t want you to have anything to do with her. It’s better if you stay as separated as possible.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. He just stares back at me skeptically so I take two hesitant steps towards him.

“Can I touch you?” I ask and his expression shifts but he eventually opens his arms for me, enveloping me as I step into him and rest my cheek against his chest. We stand there silently for a minute holding on to one another, and while I want desperately to lean up and kiss him, I refrain. Flynn told me that it’s important to let him take the lead with our physical intimacy right now.

“This won’t last forever, Ana,” He says, turning his head so that his lips move against my hair as he speaks. “I want to touch you, I want to hold you, I want to make love to you. I just need to be able to stop replaying all of this in my head before I can. I don’t want to be thinking about her while I’m with you.”

“I know, and I don’t want to rush you…” I reassure him. “But you don’t have to go through the alone. What you’re experiencing is normal. Flynn said…”

“I don’t particularly care to hear what Flynn said,” Christian interrupts me and I frown.

“He can help you, Christian. This is his job. He can help you deal with this.”

“Like he helped me the last time I went and saw him?” He replies darkly.

“Yes. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but he did help you. I don’t think that you’d have ever let her go if you hadn’t gotten to this point, and if you didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” He doesn’t say anything but I feel his chest expand as he takes a deep breath and then hear his drawn out sigh. “You don’t have to feel like this, you don’t have to work this out on your own. Talking helps, and he could have, I don’t know, some exercises or maybe I could do with you that could help you move on. I’ll go with you if you want.”

I pull away so that I can look up at him, and his gray eyes are swimming with the conflict of his irresolution. His eyebrows pull together and slowly he leans down and presses his lips softly into mine. I kiss him back, trying to pour all of the love and support that I want him to feel into him, but after only a few seconds, his lips tense and he pulls away. I give him a weak smile, trying not to take the sting of his discomfort with me personally. He reaches down and cups my face with his hand but as I lean into his touch, he groans and reaches into his pocket.

I watch him pull out his phone, look down at Elena Lincoln’s name on the screen, and his whole body tenses. He ignores the call, grips it tightly for a second, and then puts it back into his jacket.

“I’ll make an appointment with Flynn,” He says in a tight whisper and I give him an encouraging smile.

“I’m glad,” He leans down to kiss me again, but just before his lips touch mine, we’re interrupted.

“Mr. Grey?” a voice says behind me and I turn to see Gail staring awkwardly at us from the kitchen. “Would you like me to start something for you and Miss Steele for dinner?”

“Please,” He says, and when she turns to busy herself in the kitchen he looks back down at me and smirks. “I see what you mean about the lack of privacy.”

“Told you,” I laugh. “And speaking of the lack of privacy, are you going to go un-fire Prescott now?”

“No,” He shakes his head. “You’ve made your feelings on her very clear and it doesn’t ease my concerns for your safety if I have to constantly worry about you giving your security the slip. So, I’m going to assign someone else to you.”

“Oh, well if you’re open to suggestions, I happen to know a very well qualified CPO who has recently found himself without a job.”

“Oh no, Anastasia,” Christian says with a sharp laugh. “I already have the perfect man to keep you in line.”

My eyes narrow at him. “Who? Ryan?”

“No, Ryan will be with me for the next few weeks. You, Anastasia, are going to be spending some time with Taylor.” My smile falters and the shocked expression on my face makes Christian laugh. “That’s right. Good luck getting anything past him, Miss Steele.”

Next Chapter

“Hold still, Ana,” Kate says, wrapping her fingers around my chin to hold my face in place as she applies a winged stroke of eyeliner across my lids. I’m sitting on my bathroom counter, in my underwear, because Kate doesn’t want to get make up on the ridiculously expensive dress we bought in the overly snobby store that I’m sure I wouldn’t have even been allowed to enter two months ago, but was welcomed into and waited on like some kind of princess when I pulled out Christian’s credit card yesterday.

“I hope you know this is the ultimate test of friendship,” I tell her as she begins coloring in my water line. She pulls the pencil away from my eye and laughs.

“Don’t make me laugh, or I’ll blind you.”

“That doesn’t inspire confidence,” I say pointedly, and she responds with an indignant look.

“Just hold still.”

I take a deep breath and look up, allowing her to finish my eye makeup before she picks up a tube of concealer. While she sets up and then blends out my contour, I sneak a glance down at my phone and try and prevent myself from frowning so that I don’t crease the makeup before it sets. It’s almost eight and we’re supposed to leave in thirty minutes.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost done,” She assures me, finally reaching for the finishing powder.

“I know, it’s not that. I just thought Christian would be back by now.”

“Yeah, where is he?” She asks.

“Therapy.”

“Well, he knows that this is a black tie event and he can’t just wear whatever suit he wore to the office today, right?”

“I would hope so since he spent $4000 on the naked dress yesterday.”

“It’s not a naked dress,” She says with exasperation.

“Oh yeah? Stand twenty feet away from me and squint your eyes. It’s a naked dress,” I argue and she shakes her head. While she begins searching through her makeup bag for lipstick, we hear the door to the bedroom open and Christian comes into the bathroom, looking slightly ashen face and his hair in complete disarray. His eyes dart between us and then he glares at Kate.

“I need to take a shower,” He says bluntly.

“Okay, I’m almost done,” Kate says, but Christian’s body tenses and he steps to the side so he can pull the door open wider.

“Get out, Kate,” He snaps and when she turns to look back at him, confused by the undeserved anger he directs at her, he lets out a sharp huff of frustration. “Now.”

“Okay, okay,” She says, picking up her makeup bag off the counter and hurrying through the bathroom door. He slams it closed behind her and begins tugging harshly at his tie, and I feel myself deflate a little. This is starting to get absurd. What hell is going on in his therapy sessions?

“What’s wrong, Christian?” I ask. He doesn’t look at me when he responds, but his voice is radiating anger.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” He shrugs his jacket off, still avoiding looking at me as he begins ripping the cufflinks out of his shirt. “I’m not seeing Flynn anymore.”

“What?” I asked, shocked. I get off the counter and walk over to him, reaching out for him out of habit as I come up behind him, but before my fingers make contact with him, he flinches and steps away so that I can’t touch him.

“Don’t,” He says, his tone a clear, resounding warning and I feel a chill run over my body. Fuck, this is bad.

“What happened?” I ask him, my voice weak with fear as I watch him peel his shirt away and begin aggressively undoing the buckle on his belt.

“Nothing happened, I’m just done,” He snarls back at me.

“You can’t stop… it’s important.”

“I’m not arguing this, Anastasia. I’m telling you that I’m done. No discussion. If you can’t handle that right now, then you can leave too.”

“Christian…”

“No!” He snaps. “God damn it, Anastasia, I told you I don’t want to talk about it. I’m late and it looks like you are too so why don’t you go put on some fucking clothes?”

His words hit me like a slap in the face, and suddenly, I’m uncomfortable standing in front of him in only my bra and panties. I look at him, shocked for a moment, and then fold my arms across my body, trying to cover myself, before turning and leaving the bathroom. The door slams closed behind me once again and the sharp sound makes me jump a little.

Kate is standing in the bedroom, looking at me with a shocked expression that I imagine mirrors mine. I’m pretty sure she just heard that entire exchange and my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I feel a pinprick of moisture bead in the corner of my eye and my breath chokes off in my throat.

“Hey,” Kate says comfortingly, crossing the distance between us in two long strides and reaching out for me. “Don’t cry, we don’t have time to re-do your makeup. It’s okay, he’s just… that wasn’t about you, Ana. Okay? He’ll take a shower and he’ll calm down.”

She rubs her hands reassuringly over my arms and I take a deep breath to stop the tears before they can begin. Kate dabs her fingers under my eyes, removing the moisture without wiping off any of my make up, and then smiles at me.

“Let’s get you dressed,” She says.

I nod and follow her to Christian’s closet where my dress is hanging in a cream colored dress bag on a hook by the closet door. She reaches up and pulls down the zipper, and the fine, nude colored fabric immediately begins pouring through the opening. She takes the dress out, unzips it, and then holds it open for me to step into. The dress is tight from the top of the bodice down below my behind, so once Kate tugs it up past my behind, I hold the dress in place over my boobs and suck in while she zips me up. She stands back, reaching down to fix the fall of the dress as I take the nude, crystal pave heels off the shelf.

We walk into the living room where Elliot, Grace, and Carrick have been patiently waiting for us for the last hour. Elliot lets out a long whistle when he turns around and sees Kate. She smiles and then holds her arms out to twirl around and show off her dress. The dark navy chiffon swirls around her in a soft, romantic cloud and Elliot is immediately drawn to her. He pulls her into his arms and kisses her deeply. I feel the smallest twinge of jealousy as I watch him smile down at her adoringly, good naturedly, while my own Mr. Grey is fuming all on his own and refusing to talk about it back in our bedroom.

Gail enters the great room with a glass of wine for both Kate and myself, and I take it gratefully as I hear the high ping of the elevator and turn to watch Luke step into the foyer. He’s dressed in a black suit with a black tie, and when the elevator doors close behind him, he doesn’t come in to greet me, he simply steps to the side of the elevator and stares straight ahead.

Oh good, CPO Luke. Maybe Dr. Ralston will call me later and tell me he’s decided to forgo having his class edit my book later, you know, to round out this already perfect evening.

I turn away from him, trying to engage in the conversation going on between Kate, Elliot, Grace, and Carrick, but once again my attention is diverted when I hear footsteps coming up the hall behind me and turn around to see Christian entering the great room. He looks heartbreakingly beautiful in a perfectly fitted tux, black bow tie, and still somewhat damp hair that is mussed in the kind of way that makes me want to slide my fingers into it while I run my tongue over the perfectly smooth line of his chin…

He stares back at me with the same kind of hungry appreciation I’m giving him, and for a moment, I think he’s gotten over his mood. But when I watch his adam’s apple jump in his throat as he swallows and the gray in his eyes hardens once more, I know that it hasn’t.

“You look… stunning, Anastasia,” He says, keeping his voice low in an attempt to make this a private moment between the two of us.

“Thank you,” I reply, “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Grey.”

He gives me a half smile and then lifts his hand to show me a square flat box that I hadn’t noticed him holding. He pulls back the lid and my eyes widen as I stare down at the necklace resting over the black velvet casing. It’s a simple, long strand of exquisite round diamonds, but the ends don’t connect and instead hang down a few inches in the front. There’s no clasp, so I’m almost scared at first to put it on, worried it’ll slip off at some point in the night, but when he carefully eases the extremely stiff strand around my neck, I see that it doesn’t need one. He step back and motions for me to turn and look into the mirror hanging on the wall by the hallway and my hand automatically reaches up to touch the delicate diamonds draped artfully around my throat.

“It’s incredible, Christian,” I whisper.

“It looks beautiful on you,” He tells me. I smile at his reflection but there is no changes in the stoic features that look back at me. He simply nods and then turns back to face his family. “Are you ready?”

“Of course,” Grace says, her tone a little too bright as she reaches down to pick up her clutch off the couch. We walk towards the foyer and Luke reaches out to press the elevator call button for us. Christian stops and turns a hard glare on him.

“What are you doing here, Sawyer?” He asks sharply.

“Taylor has assigned me to security detail tonight, Mr. Grey,” Luke replies.

“And where is Taylor?”

Luke’s normally perfect professional demeanor falters a little as he raises an eyebrow at Christian. “You give him an assignment, sir. He’s taking care of the request you asked of him…”

“Oh,” Christian says, and he takes a deep breath and waves me forward into the elevator and towards the back corner so that I’m standing as far away from Luke as possible and his body is positioned between the two of us. It makes me want to roll my eyes, but with Christian’s current mood, I decide against it. We’re about to spend god knows how many hours in a room with hundreds of strangers, I really don’t want to start tonight out with a fight.

There is a sleek, black limousine waiting for us outside the front doors of the lobby which immediately sends Kate into flurry of giddy excitement. Christian has me climb in first, then he comes next, and the rest of his family files in one by one. Once Luke closes the door behind Carrick and climbs into the front seat of the limo, Christian reaches over to close the privacy glass between us and the driver, and we pull out into the light evening traffic of downtown Seattle.

Christian is silent on the way, and he sits in a way so that there is space between us and when I try to take his hand, he moves it away and rests it in his lap. He’s clearly preoccupied with something as I notice him staring off into space, shaking his head slightly every once in awhile as if he’s trying to shake off whatever it is he’s thinking. I’m worried about him and whatever happened with Flynn tonight, but I know now isn’t the time to try and get him to talk, not in front of everyone. So, instead, I focus on Kate, trying to mirror her enthusiasm and thanking her for her overzealous compliments on the necklace Christian has given me.

When we pull up in front of Columbia Tower, the door is opened and Carrick and Grace step out first followed by Kate and Elliot. I can see the flashes of the cameras as I scoot closer to the door, but they are magnified a dozen times over once Christian steps out of the car, blinding me as I step out onto the sidewalk. I move so that I’m next to him, waiting for him to offer me his arm, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns away, and we walk up the carpeted walkway towards the front doors, ignoring the questions being thrown out from every direction around us, and not touching. Kate and Elliot both stop to smile and pose for the cameras, but Christian continues purposefully ahead without even so much as looking at the photographers calling his name. About halfway to the doors though, Christian looks up and sees his publicist standing on the steps in front of the door. She’s giving him a very stern look, motioning with her hands for him to stop for a picture.

I watch Christian’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep steadying breath, and then he turns towards the cameras. There’s a moment of hesitation in his eyes, but after taking a deep breath, he moves his right hand so that it rest on my lower back as he angles his body towards me. I look up at him uncertainly, but he doesn’t look back down at me. He’s staring blankly at all the flashing lights and so I follow his lead and smile for the photographers, hoping my face doesn’t look as hollow as I feel in this moment. This is more than being distant… he’s actively not touching me, and I have no idea what I’ve done…

“That’s enough,” I hear Christian say in a low voice and he moves his hand away from me again and then leads me forward into the building. Jacqueline scurries up next to him, giving him pointers for the rest of the evening.

“There will be photographers meandering about the party so be prepared for whatever photo ops arise. I’d definitely like to get a picture of you with the mayor for the Seattle Times,” She says very quickly. “Remember that GEH is honoring the youth of tomorrow so let’s keep the message upbeat and positive. Do you have your speech prepared?”

“Yes, I’m fine, Jacqueline,” Christian says irritably as we emerge into the ballroom. She walks us over to our table and he pulls out the chair that the name card designates as mine for me, but he doesn’t sit in his seat next to me.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I need a drink,” He says bluntly and he disappears into the crowd.

“Oh my god, Ana,” Kate says excitedly as she takes the place next to me. “It’s so beautiful in here.” She squeals as she picks up the place card with Katherine Kavanagh written across it in the delicate golden script. “Look, that’s my name!”

“That’s great, Kate,” I say placatingly and she turns to look at me, the excitement draining out of her face. “What’s going on, Ana? Are you and Christian fighting again? Is that why he’s acting like this?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” I say, shaking my head and then turn to smile as Ros and Gwen approach the table and find their seats on the other side of the chair that should be Christian’s.

“Hey, Ana. Kate,” Ros says, beaming as she sits down. “Isn’t this fantastic? And there is GEH brand placement everywhere. Ah, I’m in heaven.” She sits down in her chair and waves over my head at someone, and a few seconds later a man in a white tuxedo jacket appears with a tray of champagne flutes.

“Do you girls want a drink?” Ros asks us and I frown.

“Wait, they bring drinks to the table?” I ask.

“Of course they do,” Ros replies. “It’s a charity gala. They’re not going to make Seattle’s richest and most important people stand in line at a bar.”

“Then where did Christian go?” Kate asks, and we both begin looking around the ballroom. I try and search every face carefully as I scan the room, but it’s like trying to solve a Where’s Waldo puzzle, except my Waldo is wearing the same exact thing as everyone else.

I turn towards the entrance, thinking maybe he just needed to step outside for a minute, but as the crowd thins and I can clearly make out the entryway to the ballroom, it’s not Christian I see standing there. It’s Elena Lincoln, dressed in a black, floor length gown with a plunging neckline, her platinum hair rolled up into a complicated up-do that leaves a few loose tendrils hanging around her face. She leans up onto her tiptoes, aggressively searching the ballroom with her eyes.

“Kate.” I hiss, nodding towards the entrance and she turns to look at the doors and then stiffens.

“What the hell is she doing here?”

“One guess,” I say darkly. We watch Elena frown and then turn back into the hallway, and so I push back my chair to get up and find Christian. Once I get to my feet though, the lights dim and two members of the Columbia Tower staff close the ballroom doors. I turn to look at the main stage and a woman in an intricately embroidered silver gown walks to the podium and smiles as the crowd falls silent. I sit back in my chair and then reach into my bag to pull out my phone. I scroll through the contacts until I find Luke’s name and then send him a text message.

Do you know where Christian is?

It only takes about fifteen seconds for him to reply and I want to roll my eyes as the unkind thought that Christian could learn a thing or two from Luke crosses my mind.

Yeah, I have eyes on him. He’s not in the ballroom.

There is a round of applause around me as the woman at the podium steps aside and a man, who I think is the mayor of Seattle takes her place. I lift my hands and politely applaud until he holds his hand up for silence and begins to speak.

“Welcome ladies and gentleman, to my first Mayor’s Ball,” He begins, his voice boisterous and jovial as he looks out over the crowd. I have difficulty following most of his speech as my thoughts are occupied by Christian’s absence and what I assume he’s doing. It’s difficult, giving his mood tonight, to convince myself he’s not with Elena right now.

My stomach drops with the thought and I realize that I can’t sit here and not know where he is any longer. I stand again, apologizing as I slip away from the table and make my way to the main door. Thankfully, one of the staff members eases open the door for me and so I’m able to slip into the hallway without causing a disturbance, but the hallway is completely empty. I can hear the low echo of voices that sound like it’s coming from a large group of people so I head in that direction, but once I round the corner, Luke is in front of me, blocking my path.

“Go back into the ballroom, Ana,” He says quickly and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Where’s Christian?”

“Just go back to your seat. Please?” He replies. I stand there, trying to figure out what he’s doing when I see a movement behind him. Christian is coming around the corner, Elena’s long skirts billowing out behind her as she follows in his wake. I wait for the cold feeling I’ve come to expect from these moments to rush through me, but it doesn’t. There isn’t fiery anger, there isn’t stabbing pain, there isn’t strangling pressure that makes it feel like I can’t breathe… There’s nothing. I feel absolutely nothing and I think it’s because I knew what I was going to find. It’s hard to feel reactive anger at something you knew was going on.

Christian stops when he sees me standing next to Luke and I see the first sign of emotion break through the perfect impassive façade he’s kept up since we left Escala.

“Anastasia!” He calls when I turn around and begin walking quickly back towards the ballroom, but I don’t stop. I can hear my blood pounding in my ears, feel a tingling in my fingers. Everything around me is heightened, moving in slow motion, and as I struggle to catch my breath, I fear for a moment I might be having a panic attack.

I reach out for the door to the ballroom, yanking it back with far too much effort, but thankfully the room is alive with applause as the mayor finishes his speech and steps down. It’s loud again as people begin to once again mill about and I weave my way through the crowd towards our table until Christian’s hand wraps around my arm and he pulls me back to face him.

“Stop,” He says sharply, but he pulls his hand away from me again like he’s touched a hot iron or something. I glare at him.

“What?” I snap back. “What, Christian? What do you want?”

“What do you mean, what do I want?” He asks, looking down at me like I’ve just asked him the most ridiculous question in the world. I shake my head and take a deep breath, trying to remember that I’m standing in a room full of hundreds of people, but I’m interrupted before I can say respond to him.

“Mr. Grey,” Jacqueline says, stepping up and looking cautiously between the two of us. “They’re about to start the first dance and the photographers have asked to have you and Miss Steele positioned where they’ll have the best light. They’re waiting for you over there.”

The music begins and Christian looks up, his gaze searching the corners of the room like if he finds the speakers he can laser them down with his eyes and buy us a few more minutes.

“Later,” He says eventually, but Jacqueline frowns.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Grey. It’s… It’s started. We’re on a schedule.”

“Then fuck the dance,” He snaps, and she flinches. Her mouth opens, but no words come out and I know it’s because she doesn’t know how to argue with her clearly very irritated boss, but she needs him to play his part tonight to be able to do her job successfully.

“It’s fine, Christian. Let’s just do the stupid dance,” I say. I turn and walk out onto the crowded dance floor towards the few photographers hovering around a particularly well illuminated area. When I stop, I take a deep breath and turn to face him, feeling my throat tighten as I recognize Chasing Cars playing in the background. Christian looks down at me with an almost lost expression as he hesitates for a single moment and then robotically takes my hand in his and then pulls me into him. We stand there motionless for a second, the awkward glances of each of the photographers trained on us, waiting, and then Christian sighs and pushes me backwards with his body.

We sway together, Christian leading me with the hand on my lower back that every so often grips into my dress like he’s holding onto me for dear life. I wait for the flashes to start, assuming they’ll come one by one so none of the shots are ruined by another photographer’s flash, but they don’t come.

“Can…” One of them says awkwardly after several seconds. “Can you two look like you’re having a good time or something?”

I glance over at the voice, the short, stubble cheeked man who spoke giving us a well-come-on kind of look. Turning back to Christian, I try to force a smile, or at least not look like everything that matters to me in life is suddenly slipping out of my hands, but the uncomfortable look behind Christian’s eyes lands on me like a punch in the gut and I can’t. He looks lost, worse so than he did before we got back together at the beginning of the summer. Looking at him now, it really feels like it’s over.

My eyes begin to well with tears again, but I’m still keenly aware of the photographers waiting for their photo around us. I know I’m not going to be able to fake what they want so I do the next best thing I can think of and lean forward and press my lips into Christian’s. He doesn’t react for half a second, but when he does it’s not in the way I would have hoped. His lips are tight against mine, restrained even. We’re bathed in a sudden burst of light as the cameras around us go off, and the moment they’re done and we hear Jacqueline ushering the photographers away, Christian pulls away.

I glance up at him, feeling lost. I don’t know what’s changed for him, but I can see now how much space has grown between us. I realize now that we’re at an impasse, not only are we not on the same page, we’re living in different genres. He’s not in the place yet where he can be what I need him to be and I’m not strong enough or secure enough to be the support for him that it would take to get him through this. I think this is why Dr. Flynn wanted us to wait before we jumped into a relationship together. Why he was so adamant about boundaries in the beginning. He was protecting me. He was protecting Christian. He was safeguarding this love that we have between us because it was worth protecting but we weren’t capable of doing that, and now we’ve broken it.

“Mr. Grey,” A man’s voice says and we both turn to see the Mayor standing next to us.

“Mayor McGinn,” Christian says, clearing his throat and turning to shake his hand. I step back to let the Mayor have Christian’s full attention and as they begin talking about his speech and the presentation of the scholarship later, I feel the emotion of the reality of what’s happening creeping up into my throat and I know that I have to get away from the hundreds of people around me before I fall apart.

“Ana!” Kate calls, smiling broadly as Elliot twirls her around the floor, but when I turn to look for her, a tear breaks over my water line and rolls down my cheek, and her smile disappears. I watch her say something to Elliot and then come after me as I turn again and make my way for the doors.

Luke is waiting in the hallway, and the moment he sees me sobbing into my hand, he straightens immediately and then ushers me away from the ballroom, and into a deserted corridor with Kate silently following after us. The moment I’m out of sight from the main hallway, I feel myself unravel.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I sob through my broken breathing. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

“What happened?” Kate ask.

“I found him with Elena again. When he was gone, he was with her. It’s just never ending, Kate. Every time I think he’s getting it, or that we’re going to move forward, he drags me back. I don’t want to do this with him anymore, I don’t want to compete with her anymore. I shouldn’t feel like it’s me against the two of them but I do because he always goes back to her.”

“No. No you shouldn’t,” Kate says. “That’s not okay.”

“I know,” I nod. “But what do I do? I try to talk to him, I try to fight with him, I try to ignore it, I’m constantly trying to reassure him, but nothing changes. It’s exhausting, and it hurts.”

My face begins to feel tight as the tears cut through the makeup on my face, and Kate closes the distance between us, pulling me into her so that I’m sobbing purple stained tears onto her dress. “What do I do, Kate?” I ask again.

“I think you need to leave him,” Luke says quietly, his voice sounding hoarse as he gets the words out. I look over at him, his expression serious, and then look at Kate. Her lips are pursed together, like she’s holding something back.

“Kate?”

“I was with you when he was in New York. I saw firsthand what he’s doing to you. Relationships aren’t supposed to be this miserable, Ana. He’s supposed to make you happy.”

“Are you happy?” Luke asks. I take a deep breath, the sobs finally subdued enough that I can calm down enough to speak normally.

Am I happy? I really don’t know the answer to that. There’s so much good in being with Christian that I don’t want to let go. Not just the sex, which is absolutely incredible, but also emails in the middle of the day that are just to tell me how beautiful I am, weekends decorating his apartment together, his carefree, slightly vindictive attitude when I lost to him in Monopoly, watching him rebuild my dad’s fence, the way he did everything he could to save my chance at having a phone call with my dad on Father’s Day, dancing around his living room to Adele, old black and white movies… the list goes on and on. I love him, maybe more than is good for me, and I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want to lose myself either, and I’m afraid that if I stay, that’s what’s going to happen.

“I don’t know,” I answer. “There’s a lot of good. More good than bad, but the bad is…” I shake my head.

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice yourself for him, Ana,” Luke says, and Kate nods.

“It’s like he’s got you in this box where he can do anything and he can fuck up as many time as he wants because it’s somehow become your responsibility to save him from Elena. That is not your responsibility, that’s not Elliot’s responsibility, that’s not anyone’s responsibility. It comes down to him admitting his mistakes and letting her go. Maybe in order to do that, he needs to see that there are consequences for hurting the people who he says he loves,” Kate adds.

“I did that once, Kate. It made everything worse. It’s the reason we’re here.”

“So you don’t save him,” Luke says. “Maybe he can’t be saved, Ana. That’s not your fault and you don’t have to go down on his burning ship because he got himself into a mess that he can’t get himself out of. You’ve done what you can. Maybe it’s time you cut your losses and step away.”

I reach up and dash the tears of my eyes, smearing the black eyeliner over my index finger. “So, what am I supposed to do, just let Elena have him? I don’t think I can do that. I can’t let her win. Not after everything she’s done.”

“Ana,” I hear Christian voice and I look up and see him standing at the end of the hallway, looking at me with a gaunt, hollow expression. I stare back at him, wondering how much he heard, but the imploring look in his eyes tells me that however much it was, it was enough. “Ana, I-,” He begins, lost for words. I can see him searching for something, anything, to say to me, but coming up short. Eventually he nods to himself and walks forward, closing the space between us. “Just, come with me. Please.”

“I don’t think this is the time or place for…” Kate begins but Christian shoots her a menacing look to silence her.

“I think you’ve said enough tonight, Kate,” He snaps at her. Her eyes widen with repulsed indignation and I know that she’s about to tell him off but Luke is the one who speaks next.

“No. Go with him, Ana,” He says quietly.

“What?” Kate asks, turning a sharp look on him.

“Just, trust me,” He says, imploring me more so than Kate. “Go.”

I look at him for a minute, confused. I kind of agree with Kate in this situation… I need to talk to Christian, say my peace and lay everything out on the table so that we know if we’re going to be able to move on from here, but surely the Mayor’s Ball isn’t the place to do that. Luke’s purposeful gaze doesn’t waver though, and if he’s asking for me to trust him, maybe he knows something I don’t. I nod and then pick up the hem of my dress so that I can follow Christian down the empty corridor.

We round a corner and head towards a smaller, conference sized room. When we step inside, the dread I feel at what is coming is pushed aside to make room for confusion, when I find Taylor along with two military personnel sitting around the table which is taking up most of the room.

“Hold a minute, sir,” Taylor says. He pulls a cell phone away from his ear and then holds it out for me. I give Christian a confused look but he nods.

“Take it,” He says, and so I reach out and take the phone out of Taylor’s hand and put it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Annie?” The voice responds, and it feels as though my heart stops beating and then jumps up into my throat.

“Daddy?” I whisper, too shocked for find any kind of strength in my voice.

“Hey, baby girl!” He says, his voice breaking a little, and the small quiver is enough to send me back into hysteric sobs.

“Oh my god, hi,” I cry into the phone.

“Don’t cry, Annie,” He says, although I can hear that he is. “God, it’s so good to hear your voice. I missed you so much. How are you? How’s your summer been?”

“Uh… it’s been… it’s been good,” I stutter, hoping the tears still pouring out of me will cover the lack of conviction in my words. I wasn’t expecting this precious moment and I don’t know how long I’ll get, so I don’t want to ruin it by letting what’s happening now affect this chance I get to talk to my dad. Focus on the positive, Ana. “I got my grades back a few weeks ago, I still have a 4.0. My book is being edited over the summer and the head of the English Department at Harvard is going to try and help me get published by the end of next term. And I have an amazing internship this summer. I’m uh, kind of, almost, running a publishing company.”

“What?” My dad asks, shocked.

“I got a job running the implementation for a holding company in Seattle that bought a publishing house. I’m in charge of leading the turnaround, making changes, implementing new policies… I even have creative control over a new reading device that the parent company is inventing through its technology division.”

“Annie, that’s just incredible, sweetheart. I mean, I always knew that you were special, and that you were going to do amazing things, but to have that opportunity at twenty one years old? I hope you know what an accomplishment that really is. I’m so proud of you. You really are doing remarkable things, kid.”

I swallow the lump building in my throat. Those words are the single most important thing he could say to me and the relief of hearing them is instantaneous. My dad has never been one to shy away from telling me how much he loves me or how proud of me he is. He’s done incredible things for me my entire life, the greatest of which is this sacrifice that he’s made to put his own life on hold and even risk his life in active duty combat to pay for my dreams of going to school at Harvard… My biggest fear is that he’ll come home and feel like I’ve wasted the opportunity he gave me. I would never be able to live with the guilt of that and so to hear him say that he’s proud of what I’ve accomplished in his absence, that means everything to me.

“Thanks, Dad. I think about you over there a lot, every day, and it’s really put things into perspective for me. I know what you’ve given up to give me this chance and I promise you that I’m not going to waste it. I’m never going to be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done for me. But I want you to know that I know that I couldn’t have done any of this without you and I appreciate you. I love you, Daddy. I miss you. And I can’t wait for you to come home. It’ll be my turn to take care of you, and I will. I promise.”

“Annie, I’m just trying to give you the life that you deserve. I don’t want me not being able to provide something for you to be the reason you get held back. I have not had a single second of regret coming over here because I know that you deserve to be where you are, and you’ve proved what I’ve always known to be true. You’ve grown into an amazing woman and I’m proud that I’ve had something to do with that. That’s enough for me. You don’t have to take care of me. Although, it looks like you already are. How’d you get this phone call, anyway? I tried everything I could think of and they just flat out told me no.”

I glance up at Christian, who is staring at me expectantly. I know he’s waiting for me to talk about him. Ray doesn’t know about Christian and this was supposed to be the time I told my father about him and about everything we have… Christian’s been waiting for that and now that my dad has asked, this is supposed to be the moment.

“My boss got it for me,” I say, shifting my eyes away from Christian, and staring uncomfortably down at the floor. “He heard about what happened on Father’s Day, that I missed your call, and he wanted to help. He’s got contacts in the military, I guess, and a lot of money. He worked a miracle.”

“He sounds like quite the upstanding man to do that for an intern. You’ll thank him for me right? You’ll tell him what his kindness means to me?” My Dad asks.

I look up at Christian again but immediately have to look away from the look of shock on his face. I can’t face that right now, not while I still have Ray on the phone. I know this is going to feel like a betrayal to him, a real, deep rooted betrayal that is probably justified, but I can’t do it. Not with the way things are between us. I don’t even know if we’re going to make it through tonight and having Ray separated from Christian was what helped me get though our last breakup. One good thing untouched by Christian Grey.

“Annie? Did I lose you?” My dad asks.

“No, no I’m still here. I’ll tell him, Dad. I promise.”

There is a knock on the door and Jacqueline sticks her head inside. “Excuse me, Mr. Grey,” She whispers. “GEH is up. They’re ready for you in the ballroom.”

He nods and shoots a pained look back at me before following her out the room and closes the door behind him. I gasp as the tears start again.

“Annie, it’s okay,” My dad consoles me. “I’ve only got a few more months left. I’ll be back home soon and I won’t have to go away again. Soon, we’ll look back on this time apart and it will feel inconsequential compared to everything else.”

“I know, Daddy,” I say sadly.

“They’re telling me I’ve got to get off the phone now, Annie,” He says.

“What? No! Not yet, I’ve just barely gotten to talk to you…”

“I know, I’m sorry. Write me a letter, and I’ll write to you. It’s a long time ’til Thanksgiving so I’ll tell you now that I love you, more than anything else in the world.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” I tell him.

“Bye-bye, baby girl. Be safe, and keep working hard.”

“I will,” I promise. “Bye.”

The phone goes dead but I continue to hold it to my ear, letting my dad’s words play through my head over and over. I’m not ready yet to leave this room and face what’s waiting for me out there, but as the military men begin packing up and I’m forced to hand Taylor back his phone, I realize there’s nothing left for me in this room and so I turn to leave.

Both Kate and Luke are waiting outside and Kate immediately rushes forward and brushes her thumbs under my eyes to try and fix the damage to my makeup, but I just can’t find it in me to care about something that’s so trivial right now.

“Leave it,” I tell her. “I want to go. I can’t be here anymore.”

“Okay, we’ll call a cab,” She says. I reach down to take off my shoes, letting the floor length dress billow around my feet as I take Kate’s hand and we walk quickly back down the hallway. I can hear the voice of the woman who opened the ceremony earlier over the loudspeaker, her words coming clearer as we approach the ballroom.

“…and Executive of the Year, please give a warm welcome to the CEO and Founder of Grey Enterprises Holdings, Mr. Christian Grey!”

There is a thunderous round of applause and I stop to stare through the open door as Christian steps up to the podium. To the untrained eye, I imagine that he looks every bit the confident CEO, unshaken under the spotlights and hundreds of eyes trained on him. But even in the image of him on the giant projection screen behind him, I can see the pain in the flat gray of his eyes.

“Let’s go, Ana,” Luke encourages me and I give him an uncertain look.

“I-I…” I stutter, turning back to look at Christian as he gives his speech in the ballroom.

“We’ve got to go now. He’ll stop you if you wait until he’s finished,” Luke says and I take a deep breath and then nod as he ushers Kate and I down the hallway towards the exit.

Thankfully, we’re able to hail a cab almost instantly when we get outside so it takes us less than twenty minutes to get back to Escala. The moment the elevator releases us into the apartment, Kate and Luke jump into action. Luke starts pulling my clothes out of drawers while Kate heads into the bathroom to gather all of my toiletries. I stand back, watching them throwing my things into suitcases and duffle bags like I’m simply a passive observer and everything going on around me is out of my control.

“There’s shampoo at my house, so we can leave whatever is in the shower,” Kate says as she stuffs my makeup bag into a suitcase. “What about your apartment downstairs? Is there anything left in there that you need?”

“I-I…” I stutter. I look down at my suitcase, my eyes focused on the sleeve of a jacket Christian had bought for me last week sticking out over the side.

“I can’t do this,” I say quickly, and Kate gives me a concern look.

“I know. That’s why we’re taking you to my house.”

“No, I can’t leave. I can’t just sneak out. This is wrong,” I say, shaking my head, and without actually knowing what I’m doing, I move over to my suitcase and being pulling things out.

“Ana,” Luke says, placing his hand over mine to stop me. “You can always come back but you might not always be able to leave. If you’re going to talk, it’s better that you do it on neutral ground. Not in his apartment.”

“I don’t want to run away, Luke, I just…”

“Ana!” I hear Christian’s voice echo through the apartment and both Kate and Luke freeze.

“Fuck,” Luke hisses, and he picks up my half packed suitcase, zips it closed, and hands it to Kate. Christian comes through the bedroom door, his eyes darting between the three of us before they eventually fall on my suitcase in Kate’s hand.

“You’re leaving?” He asks, looking up at me with panic in his eyes. I stare back at him, speechless, as I don’t really know what I’m doing right now. “Please, Ana. I…” He begins as he walks towards me, but he stops when Luke steps in front of me and blocks his way.

“What the fuck are you doing, Sawyer?” Christian asks, angrily.

“I’m taking Anastasia to Kate’s house,” He says simply. “She wants to go, I’m helping her leave.”

“Like hell you are,” Christian snaps. “Get out of my way.”

“No,” Luke replies, and Christian’s eyes freeze over.

“Careful, Sawyer,” He says, a dangerous warning beneath his voice. “Remember, you work for me. Not her.”

“Then I quit,” Luke says. “I’m taking her with me.”

I can see Christian physically shaking as he stares back into Luke’s impassive gaze. I step forward and put my hand on Luke’s arm.

“Luke, it’s okay.”

“Ana…”

“Just give us a minute, okay?” I ask and he stares at me uncertainly for a moment. I give him an imploring look, silently begging him to just go because I know that he’s only making this whole situation worse. This isn’t how I want to do this anyway. If I’m going to leave, I don’t want it to be because I’m running away.

“Fine,” Luke says at last. “I’ll be downstairs. If you need me, call me.”

I nod and he turns to give a cold, warning look at Christian before he leaves the room, Kate hurrying out behind him with the handle of my suitcase still clutched in her hand. Christian turns around and slams the bedroom door closed behind them, his shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I can’t let you go, Ana,” He says quietly. “I can’t watch you walk away from me again. I can’t. You promised me that you wouldn’t leave, that you weren’t going anywhere.”

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Christian. Can’t you see what it’s doing to me? This is killing me. Every time you run off to her, it kills me.”

“I didn’t run off to her.”

“I saw you with her!”

“She found me. I was with Taylor. I told her to leave and she wouldn’t and so I left and that’s when you saw us. I was leaving her, I was going to you.”

“I don’t believe you, Christian. You’ve lied to me about her too many times, you’ve gone behind my back with her too many times.”

“That’s done with. I told you that the other day. I’m sorry that I called her on my birthday, Ana, but that’s not what happened tonight. I’m done with her. I’m done, I promise you.”

I shake my head, wanting to believe the words he’s saying to me but I just… don’t. How could I after the way he’s been all night? “I’m sorry, Christian. I just don’t believe you.”

He lets out a short, harsh breath at my rejection, shaking his head incredulously. “Is that why you didn’t tell your dad about me?” He asks. “Because you were going to leave me tonight, so why bother?”

“I didn’t tell my dad about you because if I did, that’s what he would want to talk about. You’re the only serious boyfriend I’ve ever had, Christian. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. I didn’t want to spend the few minutes I had with my father lying to him, because he would want to hear how happy I am, but I am not happy.”

He turns away from me, his hands shooting up into his hair in frustration as he paces the floor a few times. “What more can I give you, Anastasia? I do everything I can to make you happy. Do you know what it took to get you that phone call tonight? Do you know what it took to get you back into Harvard? I bought a fucking company for you to give you your dream job. What more can I do?”

“You can let me in!” I shout at him. “I didn’t ask for you to buy me a publishing company, I didn’t ask for you to get me that phone call. I love that you care enough to do those things and when I’m not so angry with you, I really do want to talk to you about how much I appreciate what you did for me tonight, but what I want from you, is to put down your walls and talk to me. Stop turning to Elena Lincoln and turn to me. Let me be the one to help you.”

His mouth tightens into a thin line and he looks down at the floor, shaking his head, and the tears burst out of me again. “Why, Christian?” I ask, pleading now as this is the question that I need answers to. “Why won’t you let me in?”

“Because I don’t trust you,” He says flatly, and as his words hang between us, I actually have to reorient myself.

“You don’t trust me?” I ask skeptically.

“No, I don’t trust you, Anastasia,” He says.

“What have I done to make you not trust me, Christian? And I swear to god, if you say anything about Luke right now, I’m going to lose it because you know for a fact…”

“Do you realize that you haven’t told me that you love me even once since you’ve been back?” He interrupts me, and I look back at him, puzzled. “I tell you that I love you every day and you haven’t said it even one time.”

“That’s ridiculous…”

“No it’s not. You don’t think I notice every fucking time I say it to you and you don’t say it back. I love you, Anastasia.”

“Christian, this isn’t…”

“Jesus, you can’t even say it!” He interrupts me. “You don’t, do you? What was this summer to you, Anastasia? Were you using me? Playing house with me to keep me happy so you could get through your internship and then leave and shut me out again? Or was I just a good fuck? It’d been a while for you, right? Is that what this was about?”

“No, of course not. Christian, how could you say that?”

“Then answer me right now. Do you love me, Anastasia?”

I stare back at him for a moment, his gaze burning into me with such intensity it feels as though it’s boring into me. “Of course I love you, Christian. I love you so much that sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe when I’m not around you. You’re all I think about, you’re all dream about. You’re my entire world.”

“Then we can work this out,” He says, “Ana, I know it hasn’t been perfect, but that doesn’t mean that we should quit. We did that before and we were both miserable. You’re the person I’m supposed to be with. You’ve changed me. You’ve changed my life and all of the plans I’ve ever made for the future. Everything I think about, I think about in relation to you. I want to provide for you, I want to care for you, I want to give you your hopes and your dreams. I want to give you the best life I can, because I love you and I want you to be mine. I know it’s been hard, but I’m trying…”

“You’re not trying, Christian! You’re giving up. Just a couple hours ago, you told me you’re quitting therapy. That’s not trying!”

His mouth sets in a firm line. “Therapy isn’t helping me, Anastasia. You think Flynn is the first therapist I’ve ever seen? I’ve been through every kind of therapy imaginable since I was four years old and it’s all been a waste of time. I don’t need another doctor forcing me to recount every bullshit thing that’s ever happened to me to know that I’ve lived a fucked up life. That I’m fucked up. I’m very well aware of that fact. A psychiatrist can’t change that and I can’t face it anymore.”

“But you have to, Christian. You’re not going to be able to move on until you accept and deal with what’s happened to you. I know it’s hard…”

“You don’t know anything, Anastasia!” He shouts at me. “You didn’t have a mother who didn’t want you. You didn’t spend your nights as a kid locked in a closet terrified that your mother’s fucking pimp was going to find you and beat the shit out of you. You didn’t have to sit at three years old and listen to your mother scream while she was raped in the other room. You didn’t spend years being silent because you knew that you were a fucked up little shit and you were terrified your new, perfect family would find out and take you back to where you came from. You don’t know what it’s like to spend your entire life paralyzed by fear every time someone touches you. You don’t know what it’s like to find the one person whose touch isn’t bad, who loves you and makes you feel worthy of that love for the first time in your life and then have to live with the fact that you’ve not only driven them away but that you’ve broken them too because you’re so fucked up that you destroy everything around you.”

I stand there, silent and shaking. There it is. I asked for him to open up and he’s given me a window of insight. But, now that he has, now that I can hear the horrid, vile way he sees himself, I’m stunned. I don’t know what to say to that.

“Christian…” I say, my voice breaking as I open my arms and walk towards him but he puts his hands in front of him and backs away.

“Don’t,” He warns me and I stop immediately. Slowly, he lowers his hands and then takes a deep breath. “Why do you think I cut my family out after you left, Anastasia? I knew I’d done enough damage to the people I love. That’s why I don’t turn to you. That’s why I turn to Elena, because she’s just as fucked up as I am, but now…” His voice cuts off.

But now?

I stare at him cautiously, waiting through the silence that feels as though it goes on forever until he finally speaks again. He looks up at me and I can see the pain etched on his face. He walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, resting his face in his hands for a moment.

“I did what you asked,” He says. “I told Flynn about our night in Montesano and our conversation the next morning, and I told him I wanted to talk about why I didn’t want you to be a submissive.”

“And… what happened?” I ask. I want to go and sit next to him, but after his clear refusal of my touch, I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now.

“We talked a lot about when I was Elena’s submissive. The things we did together, the things she did to me, the things she made me do to her. We talked about the rules. And then, we talked about the punishments. We talked a lot about the punishments. You asked me the other night if she ignored my safe words, if that was the reason I kept reminding you of them…” He shakes his head. “She didn’t ignore my safe words, she made me ashamed of them. She made me feel like I would be weak if I used them and then she tried to hurt me. She tried to see how far she could push me to force me to say those words, knowing that I wouldn’t. It was a game to her. It’s not supposed to be like that. When we were upstairs on my birthday and I was going to hit you… I didn’t want to hurt you, Anastasia, and I was afraid that you were going to let me. The way that I let her hurt me.”

“Christian, I’m so sorry,” I whisper and he looks up at me with a pained expression.

“What she did to me wasn’t BDSM,” He says. “It was abuse. Tonight, when I went to see Flynn, I saw it clearly for the first time. She abused me and then made me justify it to myself by getting me off. I was a kid. I was just a kid… I trusted her and she used that trust to molest me. I didn’t see it before. I refused to see it before because I didn’t want to feel like this. It doesn’t make me feel better to know what she did to me. I don’t want to feel this. It makes me angry. It disgusts me. It makes me never want to touch you, or make love to you again because now my body feels like it belongs to her, like she took it from me, and I don’t want to taint you with it.”

His last words make my stomach roil and clench uncomfortably. I feel my hands trembling as I yearn to reach out and touch him, to wrap him in my arms and hold him until he doesn’t feel this way anymore.

“You know there’s almost a sense of poetic justice to all of this,” He says with a dark, humorless laugh. “Now that I see it, now that I realize what she’s done to me, I want her to pay for it. I want justice for what happened to me but she made me give her that too.”

“Maybe… maybe there’s something we can do. Maybe we could try again and we could say that you committed perjury under duress. We could have Flynn testify to all the therapy you’ve done, that you’ve only just now understood what it was that she’s done to you.”

He shakes his head and looks down at his shoes. “I don’t want to put my family through that again, especially not my Dad. I don’t want to relive this anymore, I just want to leave it behind me.”

I frown and then take a tentative step closer to him, checking to see where the boundaries are between us right now, and the second I move, his body reacts. It’s subtle, but not unnoticeable. He automatically shifts, almost defensively, and he looks up at me. I stop and he takes a deep breath and continues.

“I’m going to give her thirty days,” He says. “She can buy the salons from me if she wants them and if she doesn’t, I’ll sell them to someone else. They’re profitable, it shouldn’t be hard to find a buyer. I’ll break them apart if I have to.”

“You mean… you’re going to get rid of Esclava?”

“Yeah. Honestly, part of me wants to get rid of my whole fucking company. It’s tainted by her and what she did to me and the lengths that I went to in order to justify it myself.”

“No, Christian. That’s not true. She gave you money, but that’s it. GEH is what it is because you made it that way. You built it, not her. You shouldn’t feel ashamed for your success because she gave you your start. She owed you that. She owes you so much more that she will never be able to pay back to you and you don’t have to feel anything for her anymore. She doesn’t deserve your pain. If you don’t want to take legal action for what she did to you, then that’s something that you’re going to have to find peace within yourself for, but if you want to move on and leave her behind, then I want to be with you going forward.”

“You do?” He asks, his face softening slightly as he looks at me with hope, the first thing other than anguish that I’ve seen in his eyes since he came back from therapy tonight.

“I do. I love you, Christian Grey.”

“You’re not going to leave?” He asks, and even as he seeks validation, I can hear the doubt in his voice. “You’re not going to run?”

“No,” I say firmly so that there can be no doubt. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you, Christian. There’s nowhere else I want to be.”

“Oh, thank god,” He gasps. He stands from the bed and charges at me as though he’s going to sweep me into his arms, but he stops a few feet in front of me, his hands frozen in midair, and he looks down at his fingers like he’s not sure what to do with them.

He still doesn’t want to touch me and the visual of him standing in front of me, the usually completely self-assured, confident CEO now addled and so uncertain, it nearly eviscerates me on a deep, existential level and I feel tears prick in my eyes again.

“Come with me,” I say, my voice quivering, and I turn and lead him into the bathroom. I make my way to the shower, twist the handle for the hot water, and then turn to face him again. I reach up for my zipper and ease it down and as I step out of my gown, he too begins to undress. I take a washcloth out of the cabinet and we step into the shower. Again, the temperature of the water is hotter than I prefer, but I want Christian to be comfortable, so without complaint, I reach down, pick up the body wash and pour it onto the now damp washcloth.

“I’m going to touch you,” I warn him and he looks down at the wash cloth in my hand and the nods. Slowly, I lift the cloth up to his body, trying to ignore the pain that lances through me when at first he flinches away from my touch, and then I begin to wash him.

I’m thorough, taking my time as I scrub the washcloth over his body, adding more soap as I need, and the more of him I clean, the more I feel him relax.

“There,” I whisper, when I’m finished. I step aside to let the water rinse away the remaining suds that cover his body, but he reaches out and pulls me back into the water with him. He doesn’t press his body into mine the way he would have only yesterday, but I’m only just not touching him now and he holds onto my arms for a moment before his hands move up to each side of my face. He tilts my face up to his and he stares deeply into my eyes.

“I love you, Anastasia,” He says.

“I love you, too, Christian,” I reply, and slowly, he leans down and gently presses his lips into mine.

Next Chapter

I go to bed that night alone and I’m asleep before Christian joins me. When I wake up the next morning, the after effect of our argument the night before is blatant. Christian is on his side with his back to me, rolled over as far to the edge of his side as he can go, and so am I. I roll over onto my other side and stare at him sleeping peacefully across from me, so far away, I couldn’t touch him if I wanted to. Do I want to? I don’t even know the answer to that right now and honestly, that makes me extremely uncomfortable. I don’t want it to be like this between us, but I’m at a loss. I don’t know how to fix this…

I gnaw on my lip as I roll out of bed and start an emotional inventory, trying to sort through exactly what I’m feeling and what I want. But I don’t feel anything. I’m numb.

This is all just so confusing. I love him, I want him, and part of me feels like I need him, but I feel like I’m being hit by a train every other day and it’s too much. This isn’t sustainable, I can’t keep doing this, but leaving…

No. No, I can’t leave. If I walk out, it will break Christian apart and the ripple effect will have devastating consequences for all of the people that I love. I can’t do that to Elliot, or Grace, any of them… But I can’t do this either. I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I make my way to the kitchen to start the coffee, unable to come to any conclusions. I don’t think there are miraculous solutions to what we’re going through.

“Good morning, Ana,” Gail says as I step into the kitchen and it makes me jump.

“Gail,” I say, stepping back and placing my hand over my heart while I reorient myself. “You scared me, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be down here. How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” She says. “Can I make you some breakfast?”

“Uh, sure… Thank you,” I tell her and she turns around for the refrigerator as she sets to work making breakfast. I watch her for a moment, enjoying the soft sounds of eggs frying in the pan and her low hum as she retrieves butter and jam for the toast.

“I saw the cake you baked for Mr. Grey’s birthday,” She says. “It was beautiful.”

“Oh, well there’s plenty left over, help yourself,” I tell her. “Take some back for Taylor too.”

“I’m sure he’d like that,” She smiles at me and as she sets a plate down in front of me, she looks up and smiles. “Good Morning, Mr. Grey.”

“Mrs. Jones,” He says flatly, coming up behind me, and my heart sinks at the still too cold tone of his voice.

“Would you like some breakfast, Sir?” She asks.

“No, I’m on my way out.”

I frown. “It’s Saturday. Where are you going?”

“Out,” He says, plainly and I turn an accusatory look on him.

“To her?”

His body tenses as he looks up at me. “To Flynn.”

“Oh,” I say, relaxing back into my seat and feeling a little guilty over my assumption. No, I shouldn’t feel guilty. If he wasn’t lying to me about her all the time, I wouldn’t always have to question his motives.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours,” He says and he leans over, kisses my hair, and then leaves. I stare after him until the elevator doors close and sigh. Hopefully he’ll come back from his session in a better mood and we can talk about what happened last night.

I try to pass the time that Christian is gone by hitting the gym upstairs, but I haven’t been keeping up with my daily jogging routine so I’m not able to run for as long as I would like. I come downstairs thirty minutes later, completely wiped out and only having completed just over three miles. I take a shower and even spend extra time blowing out and straightening my hair, but by the time I’m finished, Christian still isn’t back.

I head out to the living room, deciding to read and wait for him to return on the couch, but the second I sit down, my phone rings.

“Hey, Luke,” I say, as I pick up.

“Hey, what’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”

“Oh, yeah. Christian’s birthday was yesterday so we’ve been busy.”

“Really, how was that?”

“It was… fine, I guess. He bought a yacht and we had dinner at home,” I tell him, as I play with one of the loose strands in the blanket draped over the back of the couch. I don’t really want to talk about Christian’s birthday so I change the subject. “Have you found anything on Elena leaking photos to the press?”

“Not yet,” He says, the disappointment clear in his voice. “If she’s sending them from a fake account, I have to get into TMZ’s system to find where the emails are coming from before I can find a way to trace it back to her. That wouldn’t be a problem, except that I can’t use Welch without Mr. Grey finding out, so I have to do it on my own. My hacking skills leave something to be desired…”

“Yeah, well… It might not matter. I don’t even know if Christian would do anything about it if you found the proof anyway.”

“Uh oh,” He says, cautiously. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly. “I just… I found out he’s still talking to Elena about personal things last night.”

Luke is quiet for several beats, and I picture him sitting on the other line, brow furrowed and eyes darting back and forth as he tries to think of something to say to make it better. But I know from this morning, there aren’t words to fix this. There can only be action and at this point, I need a little more give from Christian.

“Do you want me to come and get you?” He asks at last.

“No,” I tell him. “Running away isn’t going to help anyone, and you’ll be permanently fired if he thinks you’re the reason I’ve left. Besides, I promised his family that I’m here to stay and to help. I think I’m the only one who can. I’m not ready to give up on him yet. I just… I don’t want let him go.”

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Luke,” I tell him.

“Are you happy, Ana?” He asks and his question takes me so much by surprise that my breath catches in my throat. Happy? Now? I don’t know how to answer that…

The elevator pings and my head jerks to the side as Christian steps into the foyer. I’m glad to note the brief feeling of relief that crosses over me when I see him. I’m happy he’s home, that’s a good sign.

“I’ve got to go, Luke,” I say quickly.

“Ana…”

“I’ll call you later,” I tell him and I hang up the phone and watch Christian walk into the great room. His face is marred by the same sense of stress and fatigue he came home with the last time he saw Flynn, and I look worriedly at him as he comes up behind the couch.

“Hey,” I say cautiously and he swallows.

“I love you, Anastasia,” He says, his voice shaking slightly, like he’s about to give me bad news, and it freaks me out. What did he talk about with Flynn? “I know that you’re mad at me and you deserve to be, but I… I just need you to know that I love you. More than anything in this world, I am in love with you and I’m sorry that I lied to you last night. I don’t know why I-” He stops abruptly, shakes his head and then continues with new direction. “I called her last night because I was struggling with… some things. It had nothing to do with you, it was about me, and she was the easy person to talk to. She tells me what I want to hear. She doesn’t make me deal with any of my shit, it’s just easier.”

I open my mouth, trying to think of what to say to him but nothing comes out. Thankfully though, he’s not looking for a response because as I sit there, trying to force myself to speak, he holds a hand to stop me.

“I’ve resented you for running away from me two years ago. I’ve worn that around like a chip on my shoulder and I’ve used it to justify a lot of the things I’ve done, that I’m still doing. But you’re right, Ana. I run away from you all the time. I did it when things got hard for me back at Harvard, I did it when I was in New York last week, and I did it again last night. I’m sorry. It’s difficult for me to talk to you when I’m uncertain of myself because I don’t want you to see me that way. I want to be everything to you. I want to move mountains and do the impossible. That’s how I want you to think of me. I want to think that I’m worthy of you because I’m terrified of losing you again. But I think I’m about to so, I want to tell you that I love you, and that I’m sorry for what happened last night, and that I’m trying. Really, I am.”

I feel the pricks of tears behind my eyes at his vulnerable confession and he stares down at me, waiting for reassurance. “Do you know what I think about when I look at you, Christian?” I ask him. He swallows and shakes his head. “Principles of Helicopter Flight, 3rd Edition.”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“It was a book recommendation you made for Astor Harrington. I’m an English student, I judge people a lot based on the books they read. He told me it was boring, like you, and I wanted to see what he meant. I work at a library and I have a lot of free time on my hands, so I looked through it and he was right. It was the most complicated, technical, dull book I’ve ever picked up. But you read it, and you knew everything from it because you wanted to fly helicopters. Christian, you built one of the most successful companies in the country at nineteen. You win awards for your business acumen. You’re on lists of the most important people, and you won Man of the Year. I know how incredible you are, but those aren’t the things I think of when I think of you. I think of your ambition, your tenacity, your will, your perseverance, and your heart. You’re generous, and kind, and you have a capacity for love that is mind boggling at times. You don’t have to move mountains and do the impossible to be worthy of me Christian. You already are, flaws and all. I don’t want you to be perfect, I’m not perfect. I just want you to be honest with me and let me in.”

“I’m sorry,” He says again. “I don’t want to fight with you, Anastasia.”

“I don’t want to fight with you either.”

He walks around the couch, removing the barrier between us, and sits next to me. I crawl into his lap and his arms wrap around me, holding me tightly to him. We sit there for a moment, not saying anything.

“Are we okay?” He asks.

I take a deep breath. “I meant what I said, Christian,” I tell him. “I don’t care what Flynn says, I can’t do this with you and her anymore. You can’t have us both. She goes or I do.”

“Hard limit,” He agrees with a nod. I stare at him for a moment, waiting for any hesitation, but it doesn’t come. My lips press together and nod.

“Then, yeah… I think we’re okay,” I tell him.

“Good. I uh… I have some things to take care of this afternoon, but maybe tonight we could order in and watch a movie. I hear you’re fond of It Happened One Night. I’d love to watch it with you.”

“Ugh, no. I’ve seen that way too many times,” I say with a giggle and he smiles down at me.

“I love that sound,” He tells me and he leans down and kisses me softly. It’s sweet and tender and as I feel the love pouring from him again, I feel the tension in my body relax. “I’ve got to get some work done. Pick a movie. Thinking of holding you on this couch tonight will help get me through the day.”

“Okay,” I sigh, and he kisses me once more before getting up and heading off to his office.

The next morning, I wake up feeling a rush of excitement. It’s Father’s Day and after months of waiting, I’m going to get to talk to Ray today. I immediately turn to my iPhone on the nightstand and check for any missed calls, but thankfully, there aren’t any. I double check that the volume is turned all the way up, and then take it with me as I climb out of bed.

It’s a long morning as I wait anxiously for my phone to ring. I find myself looking down at it every few seconds, watching the minutes tick by on the clock, and double checking the volume on the ringer over and over again. Of course it never changes, but I’m inpatient. Unfortunately, these calls aren’t scheduled, so I have no idea when it’s going to come in and after everything I’ve gone through over the past few weeks, I need to talk to my dad.

“Ana, you’re going to kill your battery checking it over and over like that,” Christian scolds me as we pull into his parents’ driveway later that afternoon, and I look over at him in panic.

“Did we bring a charger?” I ask.

“Relax,” He says. “There are only eight thousand iPhone and iPod chargers in this house. You’re not going to miss his call, I promise you. You don’t have to watch your phone like it’s a bomb or something.”

I nod and then step out of the car. Christian wraps his hand around mine as we make our way up the long walk to the door, and I slip my phone into my back pocket so that I won’t be tempted to be rude and stare down at it like a crazy person while we’re greeted by his family.

“Mom? Dad?” Christian calls as we step through the front door.

“In here!” Grace calls back and we walk into the living room to find Grace and Carrick sitting on the couch together. Grace gets up, her arms held open wide for each of us, and Carrick follows behind her.

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad,” Christian says, handing him a plain, metallic colored gift bag, but Grace snatches it away.

“Not yet,” She chides him. “We’ll open gifts after lunch.”

“Fine,” Christian says, rolling his eyes. “Where is everyone?”

“Out back,” Carrick says. He nods his head to the back door and as Christian claps his hand on his father’s shoulder and then begins walking towards the back yard, Carrick turns and wraps me in a hug.

“It’s good to see you, Ana. I’m so happy we have you here to celebrate with us,” He says warmly.

“Thanks, Carrick,” I smile.

Grace wraps her arm around me as we follow Christian out the back door where we find Mia, Elliot, and Kate throwing a football to one another.

“Christian!” Elliot calls, excitedly. “Excellent. Come get in on this. We’ll play a little two on two.”

Christian nods to his brother and then turns to me. “Do you want to play?” He asks.

“I think that would ruin two on two,” I say pointedly.

“We’ll make it work. Elliot needs an extra person on his team anyway, he’s terrible,” Christian says and I laugh.

“You go ahead, I’m going to wait for my Dad to call.”

“Come join us when he does,” Christian says, kissing my forehead, and the he waves to his brother and runs out into the lawn.

“I forgot your Dad is calling today, Ana,” Grace says brightly as she pours me a glass of iced tea. “That must be exciting for you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been neurotic all morning waiting for my phone to ring,” I reply.

“He’ll call soon,” She says, patting my leg reassuringly as she takes the seat next to me. Carrick sits too and we watch the game taking place a few feet away in the yard.

“How’re you and Christian doing?” Carrick asks.

“Fine. Okay. I don’t know. We have good days and bad days,” I reply and his brow furrows.

“Is something the matter?”

“He’s talking to Elena Lincoln again. I caught him a couple nights ago on the phone with her in his office.”

“What?” Carrick asks, sitting up a little straighter and I shrug. “What were they talking about?”

“Does it matter?” I ask him and he shakes his head.

“I suppose not. So, what do we do?”

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “We talked about it and he apologized. I think he’s having trouble in therapy but I don’t know over what. Every time he comes back, he’s a mess. I’m worried that he’s feeling overwhelmed and maybe regressing a little bit.”

“Then we just need to reassure him,” Grace says. “Let him know that he doesn’t have to turn to… her. He has all of us.”

“I know, but like I said, I have good days and bad days,” I repeat, and Grace grips my knee once more.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart. And we all owe you an unbelievable debt of gratitude for what you’re doing for our son. We really do love you, Anastasia.”

“I love you too, Grace,” I tell her, smiling affectionately over at her. “Really, I can’t tell you how much having all of you has helped me deal with Ray being away. So, thank you for taking me in.”

“It’s our pleasure, Anastasia,” Carrick says. He winks at me just as Elliot and Kate come up to the table to get a drink. Christian hangs back in the yard with Mia, trying to teach her how to throw a spiral, while Elliot grumbles about when lunch is going to be ready.

“How come you’re not with your parents today?” I ask Kate.

She sighs in a melodramatic kind of way. “They’re in Los Angeles visiting Ethan. Apparently they see me all the time so, since they clearly love him more, they’re spending Father’s Day with him.”

“Yeah that’s it,” Elliot says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey do you want to go shopping tomorrow?” I ask her, as she sits down next to me, looking relieved to be out of the hot June sun.

“For what?”

“There’s a charity ball or something we have to go to on Tuesday. Christian said he invited all of you.”

“Oh yeah,” Kate says, recognition dawning on her face. “I was just going to wear my mom’s couture, but if you want to go shopping, I’m more than happy to go with you.”

I laugh and pick up my tea as the Grey’s staff bring our lunch out to the table. We’re having Italian Chicken, stuffed with mozzarella, sun dried tomatoes and artichokes, and cool summer salad with a strawberry vinaigrette dressing. Grace calls Christian and Mia over to the table and Kate rolls her eyes when Christian kicks her out of the seat next to me so that he can sit down. While the food is being dished out, I sneak another glance down at my phone. Still nothing.

“He’ll call,” Christian assures me, and I give him a small smile as I begin to eat.

“So I was thinking we should plan a family vacation for this summer,” Grace says happily. “We could all go to the house in Montana or maybe spend a week in Catalina?”

“We should go to Hawaii,” Elliot says through a mouthful of food. “Kate’s been talking about wanting to go to an active volcano.”

“I could do Hawaii,” Grace says. “What do you think, Ana? Maybe your parents could join us?”

“I was actually thinking about flying her parents out here on the Fourth of July like we talked about on Friday. I bought a yacht the other day and I’d like take everyone out, so I thought it would be the perfect occasion.”

“Fireworks on international waters?” Elliot chimes in excitedly. “Fuck yeah.”

“Oh my god, Grace,” Kate says, nearly fawning. “You have to see this yacht that he bought. It’s incredible. Like, you’re going to die.”

“Well, I think that sounds wonderful then,” Grace says. “So, just the seven of us for Hawaii then?”

“Six,” Mia says. “I can’t miss dance rehearsals, and there’s no way I can get that much time off work.”

“You can’t stay home alone, Mia. You’re only sixteen. You’ll have to speak with your boss to get some time off to spend with your family.”

“She’s not that understanding,” Mia says and Grace narrows her eyes at her.

“You’ll have to figure something out.”

“You could just pay for Juilliard and I wouldn’t have to,” Mia says bitterly and Carrick turns a sharp glare on her.

“Enough, Mia,” He says and she mashes her lips together in a tight line and stares down at her plate, pushing her salad around with her fork rather that eating it.

“So, when shall we go?” Grace asks, changing the subject. “Maybe the last week in August before Ana and Kate go back to school?”

“Make him plan it,” Elliot says, gesturing to Christian. “He’s the one with the busy schedule.”

Everyone turns to look at Christian and I, but he leaves it up to me. “Do you want to go to Hawaii?” He asks.

“Can we? A week off is a lot of time to be away from a two and a half month internship and you couldn’t even make it through one day off on your birthday.”

“I’ll make it work. Boeing says my jet will be ready by the June 28th so we’ll have it available to us. We could maybe just take a long weekend, instead of a whole week.”

“You’re the boss,” I shrug. He frowns at my dismissive reaction but turns to his mother and nods.

“Excellent,” She chirps happily. “Well, should we do presents?”

“I’ll get them,” Mia says, standing from the table and disappearing into the house. She returns a few seconds later, two wrapped packages and Christian’s gift bag in her hands.

“Thank you, Princess,” Carrick says, smiling at her as she takes the packages. “Should I open yours first?”

“Sure, but you know what it is,” She says, smiling coyly at him and he shakes his head, takes a deep breath and peels back the dark blue wrapping paper. It’s a tie… an, interesting tie. Light blue and covered in tiny pictures of different kinds of cartoon sushi. I give an awkward sideways glance to Mia, wondering what she was thinking and hoping her feelings won’t be crushed when he looks down at it with the grimace it deserves, but, to my surprise, Carrick laughs.

“This great, Mia. I think this is the best one yet. People are going to love it at the LSA convention next spring.”

Mia smiles broadly, clearly pleased with herself but I’m just confused until Christian leans over and explains.

“She gets him an ugly tie every year. It’s a tradition. He thinks they’re funny.”

“Oh,” I say, relieved. I thought I was going crazy for a minute.

Next Carrick picks up the package I assume must be from Elliot and when he rips away the paper, his reaction is what I would have expected for Mia’s gift.

“It’s a sonar for your fishing boat,” Elliot explains.

“I know what it is,” Carrick says. “But I already have one.”

“Yeah…” Elliot says, drawing out the word. “I may have broken that last week when Kate and I took the boat down the lake.”

Carrick narrows his eyes at him. “Then you can install this one.”

“That’s a deal,” Elliot says and Carrick sighs as he picks up Christian’s gift bag, reaches inside and pulls out a rectangular, green box.

“No…” Carrick says, shocked as he looks down at it.

“Open it,” Christian encourages him and Carrick’s eyes widen as he opens the hinged lid and finds a platinum colored watch inside with the word Rolex printed across the black face.

“Christian…” Carrick says, breathless as he stares down at the watch with disbelief. “I can’t… this is too much.”

“No,” Christian says, shaking his head. “It’s what I wanted you to have. I know you’ve always wanted one.”

Carrick’s face breaks into a wide smile as he pulls the thick links of the watch out of their velvet casing and slips it onto his wrist. There is a buzz of excitement around the table as everyone takes a closer look at the inordinately expensive watch and Carrick sits there, speechless.

“Way to make us look bad, asshole,” Elliot says, punching Christian in the arm, but Christian just smirks back at him.

“Wait there’s a card,” Carrick says, pulling a long envelope out of the bag and Christian tenses next to me.

“Uh, you… you should read that later,” He says and as Carrick raises an eyebrow at him, Grace waves a hand dismissively at Christian.

“Oh nonsense. Go on, Carrick. What does it say?” She asks.

Carrick peels back the flap on the envelope and pulls out a letter folded neatly inside. As he begins to read the words silently to himself, I feel Christian slump back into his chair, clearly embarrassed. Carrick’s brow furrows as he continues reading through the letter and then his entire face softens. I watch him lift his hand and place his fingers over his mouth, and as he finishes the letter, I think there are tears welling in his eyes.

“Come here, Christian,” Carrick says, pushing away from the table so that he can stand and Christian gets to his feet and walks to his father, who wraps him in a tight hug.

“I love you, Son,” I hear him say in a low voice. “I always have, okay? And I always will.”

“I love you too, Dad,” Christian says and when Carrick releases him, I hear Grace gasp through her teeth and she covers her mouth to hide the fact that she’s crying.

“Mom,” Christian says disapprovingly, but she waves him away.

“This is just… this is everything that I’ve wanted,” She says, her voice weak. She reaches over and squeezes my hand. I squeeze back but feel a little awkward because I know that the gesture is a silent thank you for bringing Christian back to his family, but after what happened on Friday, I don’t know that I’ve done anything…

Good days and bad days.

“Alright, alright,” Elliot says, as he also stands from the table. “Enough of this mush fest. It’s a beautiful day, let’s play some ball.”

“Yes,” Christian agrees, clearly eager to move the attention off of him and Carrick. “Want to play another round, Meems?”

“Sure,” Mia says, picking up the napkin off her lap and throwing it onto her only half empty plate.

“I think I’ll play too,” Carrick says. “It’s been awhile since I’ve played out back with my kids.”

“Wanna play?” Christian asks, looking down at me. “Looks like we’re going to need a third.”

“My dad still hasn’t called,” I say, shaking my head and yet again, checking my phone.

“He might not call all afternoon,” Carrick says, “I’d hate for you to sit here all day and then not hear from him until tonight. We can take a timeout if he calls, bring your phone with you.”

“Yeah,” Elliot agrees. “Besides, I know what this is really about, and don’t worry, Ana. You can be on my team so you don’t have to lose with your boyfriend.”

I glare at him. “I saw you throw earlier, Elliot. I’ll take my chances with Christian.”

“Game on then, Steele,” He says with a challenging smile. He tosses the football at me and I catch it, roll my eyes, and get out of my chair to follow them out onto the sloping lawn.

The next thirty minutes are grueling. Mia isn’t much help as a teammate since she’s not very big and she’s too concerned about injury to do any of the physical contact work. It’s not rare for me to look over in the middle of the play and see her texting. Christian does the best he can with Kate and Carrick blitzing him on every down and I have difficulty getting open down field as Elliot seems to have made it his sole mission in life to tackle me to the ground as many times as he can.

“Give up yet?” He asks, as he rolls off of me for probably the tenth time and I groan.

“Ease up, Elliot,” Christian warns him and Elliot hold up his hands, innocently agreeing, but then shooting me a sly, not in a million years kind of look. I shake my head and walk back to the huddle with Christian and Mia.

“You’ve got to get open, Mia,” Christian says. “Ana’s getting creamed out there.”

“Yeah, Ana doesn’t have a dance recital coming up. I can’t risk an ankle or a knee injury.” She argues.

“Maybe I should take wide receiver,” Christian suggests but I shake my head.

“I can get away,” I assure him. “Have Mia hike the ball to you in the shotgun so you can buy me a few seconds to get down field. I’ll run a left out, and get out of bounds at the first down.”

Christian’s face shifts as he looks down at me with interest. “You’re so sexy when you talk football to me,” He says and he leans down and kisses me.

“Huddles are only forty seconds long,” Elliot calls over to us, “There’s no kissing in football.”

“Prude,” Christian says, standing up and shooting a pointed look at his brother before we line up on the line to put my play into action. Christian calls for Mia to hike the ball and I take off, running straight at Elliot, who sets himself firmly in my path like he expects me to barrel into him, but then stop at the last second and make a quick cut left. Elliot stumbles as he tries to run after me, so I turn towards Christian, just in time for the ball to land in my hands.

I run as quickly as I can, but Elliot is faster than me so once I’m sure I’m past the first down line, I step out of bounds to avoid him. He doesn’t stop when I do though, so I scream and begin to run again.

“She’s out of bounds, Elliot!” Christian calls after him.

“I don’t see a line!” Elliot shouts back, laughing evilly and I scream and run across the yard, stopping only when I get to the pool and can’t go any further. Shit, dead end.

I turn and see him stalking up behind me, trying to be stealthy and my eyes widen. “Elliot…” I say in a warning tone but he grins wickedly at me.

“You’ve made a horrible mistake, Ana,” He says and he charges again, hooking me around the waist as he dives past me.”

“No! No! No! No!” I scream, but it’s too late. His arm wraps around me, I fall backwards and with a spectacular splash, I fall into the chilly water. When I surface, I can hear both Kate and Christian yelling my name, but I’m too panicked to reassure them I’m okay. Oh no…

“My phone!” I scream, reaching down and feeling my pockets. It isn’t there and for a brief, wonderful second, I think maybe it had fallen out when I was running across the lawn. That hope comes crashing and burning to the ground though when I look down and see the small, rectangular outline of my iPhone resting on the bottom of the pool below me.

Sucking in a deep breath, I dive for it, my fingers wrapping around the glass a few seconds later, and then I kick off the bottom and scramble out of the pool. I begin pressing the round home button frantically, praying the screen lights up, but it doesn’t. It’s black. Completely dead.

“No!” I howl, as I feel tears begin to choke their way up my throat. Christian runs up behind me and looks down at the black screen of the phone in my hands which I am still hopelessly trying to turn back on.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He screams down at Elliot, but Elliot just bobs in the pool, staring up at me with shock. His face is completely ashen.

“What do I do?” I ask through my tears as I look up at Christian.

“Can we forward her calls to my phone or your phone?” Kate asks.

“We’d have to do that from her phone,” Christian says, shaking his head. “Fuck.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his own, perfectly functional iPhone, and then puts it to his ear.

“Taylor,” He barks a second later. “I need a phone, now. I don’t care what it is, but it needs to have Anastasia’s SIM card in it. Yes. Which store? Good, I’ll call ahead and make sure you don’t have any problems. Hurry, Taylor.”

He hangs up and then wraps me in his arms as I sob and continue to try and coax my phone back to life, praying for some kind of miracle.

“Ana, I’m so sorry,” Elliot says as he climbs out of the pool. “I wasn’t thinking. I-I’m so sorry. So, so, so, so sorry.”

His apology rakes on me, just reaffirming that what’s happening is real and it tears me apart. The tears burst out of me more fiercely and Christian wraps me tighter in his arms, trying to calm me down.

“That’s not helping, Elliot,” He snaps.

“Let’s get her back up to the house,” Kate says. “She’s soaking. We need to get her a towel.”

It’s torture sitting on the Grey’s back porch wrapped in an oversized beach towel, even though the hot sun has me mostly dry after only a few minutes,and staring down at my lifeless phone, praying Ray hasn’t called while we wait for Taylor to get here. Christian’s family sits around the table, trying to make small talk but they’re only ever able to get a few words out at a time before whoever is speaking inevitably looks nervously over at me, like I’m a dangerous snake that could strike at any second. Elliot sits in the chair farthest away from me, staring at me the whole time, and looking so guilt ridden that, if I wasn’t so panicked right now, it would break my heart.

Christian’s phone buzzes on the table and he snatches it up so quickly, he almost dumps Kate’s iced tea onto her lap. “Taylor,” He answers sharply, listens for a second, and then hangs up without another word. “He’s here.”

I launch myself out of my chair and sprint after Christian into the house. We make it to the entrance hall just as Taylor steps through the front door. He immediately holds the new phone out to me and I take it, holding down the buttons simultaneously as the apple icon appears, taking its sweet time to boot up. My heart is racing as I watch the pre-programmed apps pop up on the home screen and then everything feels as though it comes crashing down around me when a notification pops up that I have a new voicemail.

“Oh no,” I breathe, I feel Christian’s hands wrap around my upper arms, trying to comfort me. He doesn’t say anything and I think that’s because he knows there’s nothing he can say right now.

“Ana…” Elliot says, in a hollow voice. “I am so, so, sorry. Can we do something? Can we call someone? How do we make this right?”

“We can’t,” I tell him, shaking my head. “He’s not on a base. This was a… a one shot deal kind of thing.”

“Oh, Ana,” Kate says, wrapping her arms around me as I start to cry again.

“We’ll put together a care package to send to him,” Grace says. “Maybe we can even make a video of you so he can see you. We can bake and get some of his favorite things that he’s been missing.”

I nod as Christian takes me out of Kate’s arms and leads me back into the living room. Grace heads back into the kitchen to get pie, hoping dessert will cheer me up, and I sit down on the couch and call my voicemail to listen to my Dad’s message. My gut clenches when I hear his voice, the disappointment in having to talk to my voicemail ringing clear in each word.

“Hey, kiddo. It’s Dad. I’m sorry I missed you. I uh, I hope you’re having just the best summer that you can. It’s your last one and I want you to enjoy yourself before you have to get a job and start going to work every day. I can’t believe I just said that… Your last summer vacation. I really just don’t know where all the time has gone. Sometimes, I still think of you as a little girl running around the backyard in your Princess Belle dress and catching frogs to scare your mom with. I’m so thankful for those memories. I know I didn’t help make you, but I can’t tell you what an honor it’s been watching you grow up and how much I’ve loved being your dad. I’ve been thinking about that a lot today. I love you with all of my heart baby girl and I am so proud of you. You are my life’s single greatest accomplishment and I want you to know that. I miss you, Annie. I think about you every day. Write me real soon. I love you. Bye.”

Tears bubble up inside of me again. Christian puts his arm around me and I lean over onto his chest, trying to get ahold of myself. I know this is making Elliot feel terrible and it was accident, I know that, so I need to get myself under control. If I want to cry later, I can do it at home.

“Can I get you something, Ana?” Elliot asks, when I’m finally able to stop my sobbing.

“No. Thanks, Elliot,” I say, shakily.

“Ana, I’m sorry,” He tells me again, but I shake my head.

“It was an accident. I know that. It’s okay, Elliot. I’ll write him a letter tonight explaining what happened and we can send a package. He’ll like that. I’ll even put extra cookies in for him to share with his buddies. I’m sure that will make him popular, at least for a day.”

“If I can do anything…” He tells me.

“I’ll let you know.”

Elliot gives me a sad smile and then Grace reaches over for my hand. I glance over at her, aiming for gratefulness, but I’m not sure if I succeed. It’s not that I don’t feel that way. In many ways, the Grey’s have been my family while Ray has been gone and the concern and the love, and the understanding I see in every one of their eyes right now, reaffirms that. Today is supposed to be about Carrick. I need put on a brave face.

“This is silly,” I say, sitting up and shifting Christian’s arm off of me. “We’re supposed to be celebrating. What should we do?”

I turn to look at Carrick, implying he should be the one to choose and he looks back uneasily at me for a moment before glancing to each of his family members in turn.

“Uh… we have the Wii hooked up down here. We could have a bowling tournament,” He suggests.

“Another opportunity for Elliot to lose?” Mia smirks. “Sounds good to me.”

Elliot glares at her. “Alright, start it up. Looks like I need to remind you fools who you’re dealing with here.”

Kate laughs and then follows Mia to the cabinet and helps her hook the cables up to the huge flat screen TV hanging on the wall while Christian, Elliot, and I move furniture out of the way.

The games turns viciously competitive far too quickly as Christian and Grace bowl two perfect first rounds with Kate and Mia both only a few pins behind them. Carrick and I are too busy laughing at Elliot who remains firmly in last place and gets more and more frustrated each time his turn comes around, to focus too much on catching up to Christian and Grace.

“This thing is broken,” Elliot hisses when he throws another gutter ball.

“Not as broken as your face,” Mia throws back at him.

“I’m going to break your face if you keep giving me lip, little girl,” Elliot threatens and Grace smacks him with one of the couch pillows.

“That’s enough,” She scolds both of them. “Whose turn is it?”

“Mine,” Kate says, jumping up. “Prepare to lose, Christian Grey.”

“Oh, yes, please, show me how it’s done, Kate,” He says sarcastically but she ignores his tone as she turns back for the TV. There is a low buzzing on the coffee table and I look down to Christian’s phone, the good mood I’d managed to build back up since the phone call disaster wiped out in an instant when I see Elena Lincoln’s name flash across the screen.

“Strike!” Kate yells excitedly, turning around for the expected congratulations of everyone in the room, but we’re all staring at Christian. He reaches over to pick up the phone, and I take in a deep breath to steady myself and hold back the torrent of emotion I can feel brewing inside of me, but he doesn’t answer it. He rejects the call, turns his phone completely off, and then tucks it back into his pocket. I exhale a little and feel the corners of my mouth curl into a small, thankful smile. He squeezes my hand and then groans a little as he gets off the couch.

“Alright, Kavanagh,” He says as he snatches the WiiMote out of Kate’s hand. “You put up a good fight, but I’m gonna go ahead and put this game away.”

Christian is quiet as we ride the elevator up to our apartment later that night, the fingers of his left hand entwined with those on my right, and each of us holding onto tupperware containers of food Grace insisted we take home with us. I’m not really sure the reasoning behind his sudden reticence, it’s weird after the great day we’ve had with his family, and so it has me worried.

“That was fun,” I say, trying to encourage him to speak. He nods but his eyes don’t move away from the numbers ticking steadily higher over the elevator doors. “Are you thinking about work?” I try again.

“No,” He says at last, but he doesn’t elaborate further. I frown, but decide to give him a little more time before I try again. Before we reach the 22nd floor though, he squeezes my fingers and turns to look down at me.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to talk to your dad today,” He says regretfully. “I wish there was something I could do.”

“I know,” I reply. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. These kind of things happen. I’ll do what your mom suggested and make him a video. He’ll like that.”

He nods again as the elevator doors slide open and we step into the entryway. To my surprise, Taylor is standing in the foyer, waiting for us.

“Good evening, Mr. Grey. Miss Steele,” He says, formally. “Did you enjoy your evening?”

“Yes,” Christian replies, but his voice is short now. “But I’d like to see you in my office, Taylor.”

“Yes, sir,” Taylor responds and he turns around and walks purposefully towards Christian’s office.

“Christian…” I say hesitantly. “Don’t yell at him. It’s not his fault I missed the call. He did everything he could.”

“Put these in the fridge for me,” He replies, handing me the tupperware in his hand and completely ignoring my request. “This shouldn’t take long. I’ll be in to get in bed with you in a minute.”

He leans down and presses his lips chastely against my cheek and then releases my hand and follows after Taylor. I watch him go, feeling a little guilty as I imagine the lecture it seems Taylor is in for, but do as he asks and take the leftovers from the Grey’s to put away in the fridge. It is getting fairly late and I know my day off on Friday has left me with a ton of work to do tomorrow, so I get myself a glass of water and walk back towards the bedroom, pausing for a second to glance at the light streaming into the back hallway from under the door of Christian’s office, and then head off to bed.

Next Chapter

The traffic on Alaskan Way is backed up because the Seahawks are starting official off-season training today which has been opened to the public, so everyone is trying to get south to Renton. Christian tries to avoid the gridlock by taking Western to Virginia St, but the second we merge with Elliot Ave, we come to a standstill.

“Jesus Chris,” Christian grumbles with frustration as he tries to weave around the line of cars stopped in front of us, but just ends up stuck in the wrong lane. “Fucking, Seahawks…”

“Hey!” Elliot and I both shout at the same time.

“You better watch your mouth Christian, just because you’re technically my boss now and you just bought a $35 million yacht that I plan on taking full advantage of, does not mean that I won’t still kick your ass.”

“You haven’t been able to kick my ass since I was eleven…And not even really then,” Christian says pointedly, glancing up at his brother in the rearview mirror. Elliot grimaces and then turns to me.

“That’s it, Ana. You’re cutting him off. No more sex until he learns to value and cherish the things that are more important in life. Namely, the Seattle Seahawks.”

Christian laughs and then looks down at me like he’s waiting for me to brush Elliot’s comment off as ridiculous, but I give him a very purposeful look and fold my arms across my chest.

“Oh, come on, Ana,” He says, but my gaze doesn’t falter.

“Take it back,” I say firmly and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. The Seahawks are the only thing that gives life any meeting and I don’t know how I could be so insensitive as to diminish their importance in any way,” He says, a mocking tone in his voice.

“And…” I say drawing out the word into two syllables, “To make it up to me, I can use your corporate box seats this season.”

“And you can use my box seats this season,” He repeats.

“And Elliot,” Elliot coughs from the back seat.

“And Elliot,” I add, nodding firmly.

“And Elliot,” Christian repeats, rolling his eyes again.

“And the next time you attend a gala in which Matt Hasselbeck is also attending, you will take me with you.”

“I will take you with me,” He assures me.

“And I’m pretty,” I add with a smile.

“Oh, now you’ve gone too far,” He laughs, and as I devolve into a giggling fit, he reaches over for my hands, pulls my fingers up to his lips and then lowers our still conjoined hands onto the center console, rubbing his thumb affectionately over the backs of my fingers.

It takes forever, but we’re finally able to turn onto Virginia St, and as Christian hits the gas and the Maybach shoots up the steep hill towards Escala, the music coming out of the car’s sound system cuts out and the screen in the dash announces a call from Ros.

“Ros?” Christian answers, pushing a button on the steering wheel near his thumb.

“Hey, I know it’s your birthday and… happy birthday, but I need you. I’ve had fourteen calls on the state project this morning that I don’t know enough about it to answer them, and apparently there’s some kind of infrastructure problem in Whitman country that’s causing problems for our fiber optics team. Oh, and Carl Beckett from Lincoln Timber has been calling for you all morning trying to schedule a meeting via lifesize for no later than three this afternoon. He says it’s important but apparently my credentials as COO are not good enough to find out why…”

“So you need me to come in,” Christian infers.

“Oh, I knew you’d understand.”

I frown as Christian makes the loop to drop us off at the entrance to the lobby of Escala rather than pulling into the parking garage.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Christian assures Ros, and then he pushes the button to cut off the call.

The Maybach comes to a stop against the curb in front of the main doors to Escala and I look over at him, unable to hide the disappointment I feel from showing on my face.

“You’re not going to come up and change?” I ask, glancing down at his casual, yet still unbelievably sexy, jeans and t-shirt combo.

“No,” He says. “If Zuckerberg can run his company in a hoodie, I think I could wear a t-shirt just this once.” I laugh, but it’s short lived. I really don’t want him to leave.

“What time do you think you’ll be back?” I ask him.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to see exactly what’s going on when I get into the office. I’ll call you and let you know.”

“Okay,” I say. He leans over and kisses me, and then I step out of the car, waiting for Kate and Elliot to join me on the sidewalk, and then wave goodbye to Christian as he pulls away from the curb.

Kate and Elliot decide they aren’t going to stick around and watch me bake all afternoon, but as we head to the elevators, planning to go opposite directions, I hear my name being called by the woman at the front desk. She smiles and waves at me, so I say good-bye to Kate and Elliot and then make my way over to her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Steele,” She says in an overly pleasant, professional tone. “There was a delivery for Mr. Grey about an hour ago but there was no one in your penthouse to receive it. Would you like to take it with you now?”

“Sure,” I shrug and she disappears into the office behind her for a second before returning with a shiny, silver ice bucket in her hands. There is a dark green bottle with a gold label sticking out of the top of it, and a black ribbon tied around the lip of the pail that also secures a parchment colored envelope with Christian’s name on it.

“Thank you,” I tell her as I take the bucket. Some of the ice has melted so it’s a little awkward to carry and she offers to have someone help me, but I simply thank her and tell her I can manage.

The apartment is eerily empty when I finally get back upstairs. Christian gave Taylor and Prescott the day off as we were supposed to be mostly just spending time here together, and with Gail still sick and isolated to her wing of the apartment, I find myself truly alone here for the first time. My footsteps seem to echo through the great room as I walk out of the foyer, and it’s kind of creepy… Immediately, I start having horrible Scream flashbacks and my mind begins running through all the places the killer could be hiding in the house.

I need a distraction and Christian’s iPod is in the docking station on the mantle, so I decide to just put it on shuffle and fill the apartment with music while I bake. But there’s only so much of the Lumineers and Death Cab for Cutie that I can handle before I yank his iPod off the speaker and replace it with mine, finishing Christian’s cake while dancing around the kitchen to Jason Derulo. When the cake comes out of the oven, I slip it out of the baking pans and onto the ventilated racks I find in the cabinet to help it cool faster, but since I’ve already cleaned the dishes I’ve used and whipped up a batch of buttercream icing, I’m stuck playing the waiting game.

My eyes fall on the bucket of champagne sitting on the counter, and as I stare at it, wondering who it’s from, curiosity gets the better of me and I pull the card out from under the ribbon and ease open the envelope. There is a plain white card inside with a handwritten messages scribbled across it in an elegant looking script.

Happy Birthday, Christian. I thought we could celebrate your LT acquisition with some Dom Perignon. Let me know when you’re available.

Love always, Elena

I scoff as I read the note and then tear it up in my hands. I tell you when he’s available, Elena Lincoln.

After tossing her card in the trash, I take the bottle of champagne out of the ice bucket, find a bottle opener in the utensil drawer and then pour it down the drain. I feel a grim sense of satisfaction as I turn on the faucet, clearing the sink of the remaining fizzing bubbles and then pick up the ice bucket, and the bag out of the trash and dispose of the evidence.

Christian texts me as I’m frosting his cake to tell me he’ll be home around seven thirty, but at seven fifteen, just as I’m pulling the lemon cod out of the oven, I hear the elevator ping and then the echoing footsteps of Christian walking into the great room.

“Ana?” He calls, and I stick my head around the corner.

“You’re early!” I exclaim, and he laughs at the shock on my face.

“Is that a problem?”

“No,” I say quickly, “I mean, I-I’m just not done yet. The asparagus is still in the oven and the fish has to rest for a few minutes before it’s ready.”

“So?”

“So you’re ruining my birthday surprise!” I pout, he smiles and then walks over to me so that he’s standing behind me, and then wraps his arms around my waist.

“I’d hardly call it ruined,” He says, in a low, sexy voice. His lips press into my jaw just below my ear and as he runs the tip of his nose up the line between my face and my ear, a shiver trembles down my spine. “I love this, baby. Seeing you, in my kitchen. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

I turn around and kiss him, blushing at the look of utter adoration coloring his eyes, and then smile. “Ten minutes,” I promise him.

“I’ll pick a wine,” He tells me. “What are you making?”

“Cod,” I reply.

“A Chardonnay then, I think. I have a special reserve label from Burgundy, France that I’ve been saving for a special occasion. I think this is perfect.”

Christian lays the plates out on the table and fills two wine glasses, as I bring the dishes out to serve. We sit close to one another as we begin to eat, and when he takes the first bite, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction at the look of approval on his face. He likes it.

“This is delicious,” He tells me.

“I’m glad you think so,” I say with a smile. “Brains, beauty, and a good cook. Whatever did you do to deserve me, Mr. Grey?”

“I ask myself that every single day,” He says. He leans over to kiss me and I meet him willingly, feeling as though I wish I could stop time and remain in this moment with him forever. We talk a little about work as he tells me about the chaos he walked into in his office, and then a little more about the yacht he purchased this afternoon. He already has grand plans for a trip around the world to celebrate my graduation from Harvard and I entertain the fantasy for him, but know the idea is ridiculous in practice. He couldn’t leave the office for an afternoon, there’s no way he could be gone long enough to sail around the world. Besides, Ray will be back next summer, hopefully in time to watch me graduate, and I want to spend as much time with him as I can.

“Oh,” He says, a few minutes later. “The Mayor’s Ball is on Tuesday. GEH is awarding a scholarship to a young man from the inner city so we have to attend. I’d like for it to be our first official outing, together.”

“A ball? So I’ll need a gown?”

“Well, yes. I could find something for you, have it shipped here, or maybe you could go shopping with Kate? I’m going to invite my whole family to attend so I’m sure she’ll need something as well. Maybe even Mia could go with you, I know she wanted to have lunch with you.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll ask them on Sunday,” I tell him.

He gives me a small, warm smile and then slowly gets out of his chair and picks up his iPod. I watch with interest as he scrolls through the songs until he finds the one he’s looking for and puts it onto the dock. The room is suddenly filled with the sweet notes from a piano and Christian slowly saunters over to me, holding out his hand for mine, Adele begins to sing about all the things she would do to Make You Feel My Love.

Christian spins me once and then pulls me into him, his body gracefully guiding me over the floor as we turn and sway to the beautiful music. I rest my cheek against his shoulder, just enjoying the feel of him against me as he leads me around the great room.

“I’ve known it from the moment that we met,” He sings quietly along with the music, “No doubt in my mind where you belong.”

I shift so that I can look up at him, his eyes shining down at me with wonder, and we stop moving. I lean up and kiss him, the tip of my tongue brushing gently against his. His arms wrap tighter around me and he deepens our kiss, our lips moving together in a slow, sensual dance that lights my body with desire. Desire for his touch, his body, his love. As I succumb to the building passion behind his kiss, I know that I want nothing more than to be as close to him as is physically possible.

“Bed?” He asks in a low sensual voice that heightens the carnal heat I feel beginning to burn in every one of my nerve endings.

“Yes,” I whisper against his lips. Without warning, I’m scooped up into Christian’s arms and he kisses me once more as he carries me off into the bedroom. When we get there though, he stops, his lips pulling away from mine as he looks down at the bed with confusion and it takes me a moment to remember why.

My birthday surprise.

His eyes glance over each of the items lying seemingly innocent on the bed. “What’s this?” He asks.

“Well…” I begin, almost guilty as I wonder if springing this on him wasn’t the greatest plan. “It’s all just been sitting here, we haven’t used any of it. I thought, maybe tonight, for your birthday, we could… I don’t know. Try something new.”

He looks down at me suspiciously for a moment, and then down at the bed again. “You want to play?”

“Yes,” I tell him and he takes a deep breath, considering it.

“Not here,” He says at last. “This is where I make love to you, Anastasia. I don’t want to do this here.”

“Oh,” I say, slightly disappointed. I think this means that he doesn’t want to do this, but to my surprise, he begins gathering the items I’ve laid out into his arms, gesturing for me to do the same.

“We’ll go upstairs,” He says, “There should be plenty of space in the second bedroom.”

An excited smile creeps across my lips as I help him take the different items and then follow him out of the bedroom and up the stairs. He leads me down the hallway to the larger of the two guest rooms, but he stops before he opens the door.

“You really want to do this?” He asks.

“Yes,” I tell him.

“Okay,” He agrees with a nod. “Then once you step through this door, the scene begins. You’re mine to do with as I please, whatever I please, and you will do as you’re told.”

“Okay,” I nod, my excitement mounting and the anticipation builds. He leans over and kisses me.

“I love you,” He says, and it feels like there is something behind his words but I don’t have the time to analyze it as he pushes open the door and steps aside to allow me to enter first. I take a deep breath and drop the things I’m holding in my arms haphazardly on the bed.

“Stand by the door,” He commands, and I move. “Eyes on the ground.” I look down. “Good girl. You will not look up at me unless I tell you to, do you understand?” I nod. “No, Anastasia, you have to speak when I ask you a question. I need to know that you understand what I’m telling you.”

“Yes,” I say quietly.

“Yes, what?”

“Er…”

“Sir,” He tells me, firmly. “We’ll start with Sir.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Wait here,” He says. I risk a glance up as he turns around for the bed, picking up each of the items we’ve left there in turn and carrying them, one at a time, over to the glass top dresser across from the bed and laying them out piece by piece. He stands in front of the dresser, examining them carefully, considering them individually, before he eventually turns to look back at me and I’m forced to turn my eyes back to the floor.

“First thing’s first,” He says, walking slowly over to me. “Let’s get you out of these clothes. Lift your arms.”

I do as he asks and his fingers find the bottom hem of my flowy, black tank, and he eases it up over my stomach, his fingers brushing up my waist, the sides of my bra, my shoulders, and my arms as he pulls it over my head.

“Arms down,” He commands, and again I comply. He stalks around me like a predator eyeing its helpless prey standing before him, ready to be devoured. When he’s behind me, he stops and hooks his fingers under the clasp on my bra. I feel my breasts shift as my bra falls open, and then his fingers slide over my shoulders, pushing the straps down each of my arms, and sending a shiver up my spine. He takes the clothing he’s removed from me and places them neatly on the bedside table.

When he turns around again, he walks directly up to me, so that he’s only standing a few inches away, and I feel his gaze burning into me as I watch his fingers begin to unfasten the buttons on my shorts. The moment the button is released, he pulls down the zipper and then lets them fall unceremoniously to the floor. My panties, however, he takes great care in removing. Before his fingers slide beneath the lace band, he runs his hands tenderly over my hips, feeling my skin, and then gently easing my panties down over my behind. He doesn’t let them fall. He holds on to them, slowly lowering his body down mine as he glides my panties down my legs. I feel his breath between my breasts and then over my stomach, until he’s kneeling in front of me and I’m able to step out of my shorts and my panties. Once I’m divested of the remainder of my clothing, he leans forward and runs his nose against my vagina, inhaling, and then dragging his tongue over my clitoris as he tilts his face up towards mine. I gasp, whimpering at the oh so sweet contact, and his eyes harden.

“Quiet,” He tells me. “You will not make a sound unless I instruct you to.”

I swallow, unsure if I’m supposed to answer the command, but since there doesn’t seem to be implicit instruction in his words, I remain silent. It seems to be the right choice, because he stands without giving me further reprimand.

“Now, usually, Anastasia…” He begins as he starts to circle me once more, his eyes raking hungrily over my naked body. “These types of relationships begin with negotiations. What you’re willing to try, what you’re not willing to try. These are called soft limits, and hard limits. A soft limit can be pushed, a hard limit cannot. We have had no such discussion, but you and your body are not new to me.” He stops behind me again, his body pressed against my naked back and his lips brushing ever so slightly against my ear. “I know how to pleasure you. I know how to excite you. I know how to make you come.”

I can’t hold back the tremble of pleasure his words elicit inside of me, but I keep my eyes dutifully turned down to the floor, and my mouth silent. He lets out a breathy chuckle and then kisses the junction of my earlobe and my jaw. A shaky breath breaks through my lips as he slowly kisses and licks his way down the gentle curve of my neck to my shoulder.

“I have a good idea what your soft limits are,” He continues. “And I want to push them. I want to try some new things but since you haven’t given me any hard limits, you should at least have safe words. Do you know what safe words are, Anastasia?”

“To make you stop… Sir,” I add.

“In their basic form. There are two I want you to use. You will say yellow when you want me to ease back or let me know that you are close to your limit. You will say red if you don’t like something and you want me to stop. Repeat that.”

“Yellow when I’m close to my limit. Red when I want you to stop,” I repeat, and there is a nervousness that begins to meld with my excitement. What does he have planned?

“I don’t want you to be ashamed of those words,” He says, his voice imploring now, rather than hard and authoritative. “It does me no good if you aren’t honest with me about how you’re feeling.”

“Okay,” I assure him.

“Good,” He says, his voice firm again. “On your knees.”

He holds out his hand for mine and I take it as I kneel onto the floor, back straight, eyes still cast down to the ground. He walks around so that he’s standing in front of me and then reaches up and pulls his t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside onto the nightstand with my clothes, and then he undoes his fly.

Oh god, he’s so hard…

“Open your mouth,” He commands me and I do as I’m bid. He flexes his hips forward and I feel the tip of his erection on my lips. Leaning forward a little, I envelop him in my mouth, sucking the head of his erection until, he reaches into my hair, holding me in place, and he thrusts forward. I let out a small, surprised noise as my mouth is suddenly filled with him, and he freezes. He tests me, pulling out and inching back in, slowly, and when I give him an encouraging moan and suck him in time with his thrusts, he pushes deeper into my mouth again.

“That’s it, baby,” He whispers, letting out a low, throaty groan. He continues his rhythm, moving in and out of my mouth, his breath hissing between his teeth. It’s so sexy listening to him enjoying this. I love the feeling of power it gives me knowing that I can do this to him with only my mouth. Maybe that’s where his dom desires come from, a place of deep satisfaction in knowing the pleasure you’re giving another person with only your body. Watching them react to you, come undone for you. I moan at the thought and tighten my lips around him.

“That’s enough,” He says, pulling away from me too quickly and I pout a little to have the sense of euphoric power ripped away from me.

“Get on your feet,” He tells me and I do so as quickly as possible. He takes my hand and leads me the the center of the room and then retrieves an armchair resting against the wall and brings it over to me. “Sit.”

I do.

“Bring your feet up and rest them on the edge of the seat.”

I do.

He turns around and picks up a set of restraints with four cuffs on them, two of them a difference size from the other two.

“I’m going to restrain you,” He tells me and I nod. With careful fingers, he wraps the two larger cuffs around my thighs, then pulls the tether around the arm rest, before looping it back around and securing the smaller set of cuffs around my ankles. I’m spread open, my legs each secured to the armrest they’ve been tethered to, and Christian looks down at me hungrily, his tongue running tantalizingly across his top lip before he turns back to the dresser for a set of handcuffs.

“Normally, I’d like to tie your hands but my patience is wearing thin so we’ll have to make do with these,” He tells me. “Put your hands behind the back of the chair.”

I reach around the chair, tangling my fingers together while Christian secures the leather cuffs around first my right, then my left wrist. When he’s finished, I can’t move and the excited heat begins to build inside of me. Now what?

He walks back around to the front of the chair and then falls to his knees, staring down at me open and waiting for him with a look close to awe reflected in his eyes.

“Oh, Ana,” He whispers, “You look so beautiful like this.” I squirm slightly, testing the small amount of movement afforded to me by my restraints as I watch him lift his middle and index finger to his mouth. He sucks them for a moment, his eyes blazing into mine, and then removes them from his mouth and lowers them down, between my legs.

“I’m going to make you come in every way I know how,” He says, his voice a low, sensual promise. “And then I’m going to fuck your ass.”

I gasp as he thrusts his fingers inside of me, spreading me and pushing them in and out, before turning them over and teasing that place on the front wall of my vagina that sends tingling shivers down my legs and into my toes.

“Oh yes,” I breathe, throwing my head back.

“That’s right baby, feel this,” He encourages me, pushing his fingers into me harder. My back bows away from the back of the chair as far as it can as I succumb to his expert fingers. The heat begins to grow inside of me and his fingers become slick with my arousal and I begin to feel a pulsating deep inside of me with each stroke of his hand in and out of me. The stretching feeling is exquisite, though it makes me yearn to have another part of him inside of me, and as that thought crosses my mind, the heat begins billowing out of control and I know that it won’t be much longer.

“That’s it, baby,” Christian says as my gasp laden breathing becomes a high keening. He moves his thumb over my clitoris, rubbing slow but firm circles around and around as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of me. “Give it to me, Anastasia. I want you to come for me. I want you to show me how much you love this.”

My lip begins to tremble and my hips rock back and forth and as he increases the pace of his fingers, the dam breaks and I let go, clenching tightly around him and crying out my release. He continues to flex his fingers inside of me, seeing me all the way through my orgasm, and the second the pulsing pleasure stops, his fingers are gone and his mouth is on me.

“Holy shit,” I gasp, the new sensation of his tongue almost too intense after my orgasm. I shift my hips, trying to squirm away from him but my restraints keep me in place. I try and take a deep breath to calm myself, and as I force myself to let go of the anxiety, I can revel in the pleasure of his mouth and feel myself melt back into the chair.

“There you go, Ana,” Christian encourages me, sucking on my clitoris with his lips before lavishing me with his tongue again. I groan, a deep visceral sound as he thrusts his tongue inside of me and the overwhelming sensation of an impending orgasm begins building in me once again. Fuck, again? I don’t know if I can take it this soon…

“Wait, wait, wait…” I whimper, but he just lets out a low, sexy sound as he continues to fuck me with his tongue. The heat intensifies, becoming more and more urgent with the passing seconds. He creates suction over me, moving his lips up to my clitoris, and it’s too much. I feel the quickening morph into something stronger and my entire body begins to shudder as a second, more intense orgasm overpowers me. Christian groans into me, his mouth continuing his carnal assault.

“Oh fuck!” I cry out, grinding against him until I’m no longer overcome by wave after wave of thrumming pleasure. When my orgasm finally dissipates and I’m left shaking and panting like I’ve just finished a marathon, Christian pulls away and moves up the chair to kiss me. His tongue is eager in my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his tongue and while I moan into him, I worry what he has planned for me next… I feel completely wrung out.

He releases me from the cuffs around my thighs and ankles and then takes the cuffs off my wrists. “Stand,” He tells me and with a great deal of effort, I do. “Put your hands on either side of the arm chair and hold yourself there.”

I lean over, my fingers gripping onto the armrests and waiting as he moves back to the dresser. When he comes back to me, he touches my vagina again, collecting my slick arousal around his fingers and then dragging it up over my perineum to the entrance of my ass. Instinctively, I clench away from the sensation.

“Easy, Ana,” He says gently. “I’m going to put a plug in you to prepare you for me. I have lube here, and I’m going to put it on you now.” I’m awakened a little by the sensation of cold liquid being poured onto me and then his fingers massaging it over my entrance.

“Relax, Anastasia,” He tells me, “This isn’t going to hurt.” His fingers disappear and then I feel a new object pressed against me. He rubs it over me a few times and then very slowly, begins to ease it inside of me. It isn’t much different from his fingers, which I’ve done before, maybe a little bigger, but I find that when I relax my body, he’s right, it doesn’t hurt.

“Breathe,” He says. He pushes the plug further and I realize that it’s getting wider, stretching me a little further. I gasp and he freezes.

“Ana?” He checks. “Is it too much?”

I take a deep breath, trying to relax my body and assess how I feel. When I’m not tightening my body, resisting against him, the stretching from the plug is actually kind of good. It feels strange and a little taboo and I like that. It’s new and pushing the boundaries, and that is exactly what I wanted. I don’t want him to stop so I’m not going to safeword.

“It’s good,” I tell him, and he twists the plug to test my resolve before slowly inching it forward again. When it’s fully inside of me, Christian’s hand moves away, down to my clitoris, where once again he begins rubbing slow, tantalizing circles.

“How does that feel?” He asks and I moan.

“Good,” I tell him. His hand moves away and he swats me on the behind, jutting the plug forward. I whimper at the sensation, which is foreign and yet wholly erotic.

“Good, what?” He asks.

“Good, Sir,” I correct myself.

“Remember that, Anastasia. I don’t want to have to punish you,” He tells me and he grabs onto my ass, making the plug shift in another, new, tantalizing way and I moan. He walks back over to the dresser for one last thing, something in a package and while I try to think of what we’d brought down here, but then I hear a low buzzing sound and his moan and I have an idea what it is.

He moves behind me, the tip of his erection brushing against me and I feel the low vibrations from the cock ring.

“I’m going to fuck you like this, Anastasia. It’s going to be hard and fast, and you’re going to have to hold yourself on the chair to keep yourself from falling. Can you do that.”

“I think so,” I tell him, and he swats my behind again, harder this time. “I mean, I think so, Sir,” I tell him.

“Good girl,” He tells me, “Don’t forget again or I will punish you.”

“Yes, Sir,” I tell him. I feel his erection brush against me again, still vibrating, as he lubricates himself and then he plunges inside of me.

“Oh fuck! Christian!” I cry out as I’m overwhelmed by the intensity of the fullness from having him and the plug inside of me.

“What did you just call me?” He asks, stopping his thrusts. I want to say something, at least correct myself but the feeling of him vibrating inside of me, filling me, stretching me… I can’t concentrate enough to say the words I need to. I wait for him to smack my behind again, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he simply thrusts forward again and I groan at the sensation. Maybe I’m forgiven, maybe I’m not, but in this moment, I don’t care. I’m lost in a euphoric cloud of ecstasy that I hope I never find my way out of.

His hand reaches forward into my hair again, wrapping it around his his wrist and holding me in place by the nape of my neck as slams into me. I’m unprepared for his assault and as I’m jolted forward, I lose my grip on the chair for a second and nearly send us tumbling over the back of it.

“Hang on, Anastasia,” Christian growls.

“Okay,” I say, and his fingers tug lightly at my hair. “I mean, yes, Sir.”

He begins again, moving in and out of me and each time his hips thrust against my behind, the plug jolts forward and sends waves of pleasure radiating through me. I’m gripping onto the arms of the chair so hard my knuckles turn white, but I’m so lost in his rhythm, I hardly notice. I don’t notice any parts of my body other than the ones that are electrified with pleasure. I begin to build, the tight ball of release building, growing stronger and tighter with each thrust of Christian inside of me. I can vaguely hear his rough breathing and his moans behind me, but my body reacts to the sound instinctively, edging me on and stoking the heat that pushes me towards my orgasm.

Christian shifts slightly so that he’s deeper, hitting me in all the right places, and the sensation in combination with the vibration and the plug still jerking and twisting inside of me, tips me over the edge and I’m sent spiraling down into my release, crying out as my body is seized by a mind numbing, life affirming orgasm.

Three again? Fuck, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep up with this lifestyle. And Christian hasn’t even finished yet…

He stills behind me, releasing my hair, removing the plug, and then pulling out of me. “Stand up,” He commands, and though all of my limbs feel like jello, somehow, I manage to obey.

“I told you…” He begins in a dark, detached voice, “That if you forgot etiquette again, I was going to punish you.”

Oh shit…

“I want you to trust me absolutely and that means that I have to follow through with my promises, Anastasia. You disobeyed the rules and there are consequences for that. Go and lay on the bed.”

I hesitate for a moment, looking into the hard, cold steel in his eyes. He straightens, challenging me with his gaze and so I nod and move to the bed. He turns back for the dresser and picks up the flogger I held in my hands the night before, twisting it, testing it. Once the long leather strands stop spinning, he shifts the handle so that he can grip it better and then he moves towards me.

“I want you to stand with your legs against the bed, and lean over the mattress,” He instructs me, and I do as I’m told, feeling a cold shiver of trepidation wash over me. I wish I would have tested this. I have no idea what to expect… Is this going to hurt? Of course it is, that’s why it’s called a punishment.

“Why am I doing this, Anastasia?” He asks when I’m bent over and he’s standing behind me.

“Because… ” I swallow hard, suddenly afraid. I don’t like the anticipation. It’s like being a little kid again, waiting in my room for Ray to come and yell at me and start taking privileges away from me one by one. “Because I forgot to call you Sir.” My voice is shaking.

“And why is that important, Anastasia?” He asks.

“Uh, because… because you told me to?”

“Because in this room, you are mine,” He tells me. “Using proper terminology reminds you of that. It’s important, Anastasia, and since you can’t seem to remember on your own, perhaps five lashes will help you.”

Five? I swallow again.

Out of my peripheral vision, I see him lift the flogger into the air and I prepare myself for the blow to follow but it doesn’t come.

“What are your safe words, Anastasia?” Christian asks, and I frown. Why is he drawing this out so much?

“Red and Yellow,” I repeat.

“And you’ll use them if you need to?” He asks. “You don’t have to be brave if it’s too much. That doesn’t help anyone.”

“Okay,” I tell him.

“Okay,” He says, more firmly this time. I clench my jaw as I wait for the sharp lick of the straps to rain down over my skin, but again, nothing. I sit there for probably five… ten seconds, and still, he doesn’t hit me.

I look back at him. His jaw is tight, and he’s staring down at me with a pained kind of look behind his eyes, like he’s struggling with something and I don’t understand what. I thought this was what he wanted…

Slowly, he lowers the flogger, looking down at it with confusion, maybe? “I don’t…” He says, but when his words cut off he changes direction. “I think we’re done here.” He says.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I mean, the scene is over. We should go back downstairs. Come, I’ll draw you a bath,” He reaches down for my hand and pulls me up off the bed, collecting both of our clothes and handing me his t-shirt as we head for the door. His fingers entwine with mine as we walk down the stairs, but as he leads me into our bathroom, I can’t shake my confusion over what just happened. Why did he stop? We weren’t finished, he wasn’t finished…

While he fills the tub with hot water, lavender oil, and vanilla bubble bath, I sit there and try to comprehend what just happened. It doesn’t make any sense, he said this is what he’s always wanted. He wanted to be a Dominant, I was playing a Submissive… is it me?

“Come here,” He says, holding his hands out for me so that he can help me off of the counter and into the tub. The warm water feels amazing as I sink down into the luxurious bubbles, but Christian doesn’t climb in after me.

“You’re not getting in?” I ask him.

“No. You enjoy. I’m going to check my email. I have to make sure everything on Lincoln Timber was taken care of this afternoon.”

“But… you didn’t finish,” I say guiltily. In what world is it okay for me to have three orgasms and for him to be left hanging? Especially on his birthday…

“I’m fine,” He says. “Thank you for tonight.”

He leans over and kisses me, but the uncertainty in his lips doesn’t assuage any of the confusion I feel over what just happened. I try to smile at him as he stands from the edge of the tub but I’m not sure it’s convincing. He leaves the bathroom and I sink back into the tub, trying to relax, push aside my worries, and chalk all of this up to us just needing to find what works in this new sexual frontier together… but it’s pointless. It bothers me on a deep level that he just wanted to stop like that. I need to know what’s wrong…

I get out of the tub, wrapping a towel around myself, and then set through the apartment towards his office. I’m going to try and convince him to come get into the bath with me and talk about what just happened, but when I’m outside his office door, I can hear that he’s on the phone so I have to stop and wait.

“I just couldn’t do it,” He says, in a bewildered kind of voice. “I was standing there, ready, looking down at her, and I-I couldn’t do it. She knew it was coming, she didn’t try and stop me, she knew her safe words, but I… That never happened to you.”

What the fuck? He’s not… no, he wouldn’t. Not about me. Not about us…

“No, Elena. It’s not her,” He says firmly. “She was the one who… I was just… I mean, tonight was… and she…”

I feel my gut clench and my body go cold as I realize what’s happening. Christian is having some kind of existential crisis about what just happened upstairs, but instead of talking to me about it… he’s talking to her. He’s talking to her about our sex life, asking her for advice. He ran to her. I feel my body shaking and I don’t know if it’s anger, or pain, or disgust that’s overpowering me in this moment because my body seems to have gone into some kind of self preservation mode and isn’t allowing me to actually feel the emotion. Is it pain then? Is this the betrayal that’s been in the back of my mind since I came back here?

I take a deep breath and push open the door, trying to find some of the anger I know is inside of me to cling onto and keep me from breaking down. Christian’s head shoots up and I see the color drain out of his face as he sees me standing there, still wet and wrapped in a towel in his doorway.

“I’ve got to go,” He says in the phone and he quickly hangs it up.

“What the fuck, Christian?” I spit at him. “You think you can just put me away, find something to distract me so that you can call your ex-domme for advice about our sex life. You lied to me. You told me that you were coming in here to check your email and instead I find you, once again, talking to her.”

“Ana…” He hesitates, but I cut him off.

“No!” I yell at him. “You know how I feel about her, how I feel about you talking to her at all. Why would you call her and talk to her about me? About us? How could you possibly think that was okay?”

“I just needed to… I mean, I… She’s in the lifestyle, Anastasia,” He says defensively, “She understands, she has experience with this. Back there, with you, I froze. I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect to feel… I just, I needed to know…” His sentence dies off as he struggles to find the words to express what he wants to say, but that only makes me angrier. Why is it that he can talk to her, and not to me?

“Christian, I’m your girlfriend. I’m the person that was in that room with you. If you’re having a problem with something, you have to talk to me. You can’t shut me out like this, you can’t keep running away from me and worse, running off to her. You told me back there that you wanted me to trust you absolutely. How am I supposed to trust you if you won’t talk to me? How am I supposed to be okay with you tying me up and doing things to me sexually if I know that you’re getting your advice from Elena? I’m not okay with it, Christian. I won’t let you do to me what she did to you.”

“That’s not why I called her, Ana. I’m not asking her for technique, for fuck sake. This is Dominant thing. You don’t know anything about it, you can’t help me.”

“No, but I know you. You were fine until you tried to punish me. That’s what you’re struggling with, right? The punishment? You didn’t want to hurt me.”

I watch a muscle jump in his jaw and I know that I’m on the right track.

“Did she ignore your safewords?” I ask him. “Is that why you kept bringing them up? Was that you trying to reassure me that you would stop if I wanted you to because she didn’t stop for you?”

“Of course not, Ana. She’s never ignored a safeword. Jesus, why do you always have to try and turn me into some kind of victim? It wasn’t abuse! You were going to let me hit you, Ana. You let me tie you up, and you were going to let me hit you. You wanted this tonight. I wanted to make love to you in our bed, but you wanted this. How can you stand there and call what she did to me abuse when not thirty minutes ago, I had you tied to a chair and coming in my fucking hand. It wasn’t abuse.”

“Then why are you so freaked out right now?” I ask, my voice cold now. He straightens up, the gray in his eyes cold like steel as he stares back at me.

I know, as much as I don’t want to admit it, I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen. It’s why I wanted boundaries in the beginning, it’s why I wanted to keep us a secret, it’s why I still feel such a strong, visceral reaction to even hearing Elena Lincoln’s name. This is it, the regression Flynn warned us all about. I knew this was a possibility, but I ignored it. I wanted to believe that I could come back here and it would be different. That I could love him enough to help him break away from this but… he always goes back to her.

“If you can’t talk to me about how you fuck me, then you don’t get to fuck me at all. You said earlier that you knew my limits, but tonight you showed me that that is not true. Elena Lincoln is my hard limit, Christian. You need to be very aware of that going forward.”

I turn around and storm angrily back to the bathroom. My mind is racing a thousand miles a minute as I drain the tub and try and figure out my next move. This is the real test, am I going to stick it out and try to fight for him, or am I going to run?

Part of me thinks that I should run. This is bigger than me, obviously, and going through this again and again is too painful. Part of me thinks I should call Kate and have her come and get me. We could have my things packed and out of this apartment tonight. I’d have to quit my job at SIP, but if I leave him, this internship isn’t going to be helpful anyway… I’ve gotten back into Harvard which means I have something to look forward to get me through the summer. I’d have to find new housing, but I have a couple months to figure that out. If I’m going to leave, I need to do it now, before we get anymore wrapped up in this.

I take a deep breath and head back into the bedroom. My iPhone is on the charger next to the bed and I pick it up and begin scrolling through my contacts until I find Kate’s name but, just before I tap her name on the screen to call her, I stop. I stand there, frozen, staring down at my best friend’s name on my phone, but I can’t make the call.

I can’t do this.

I can’t run away from him again. I can’t go through what I went through last time again. I thought I could before, I thought I was strong enough to handle this, but when I climbed that mountain and made that decision, I’d forgotten the depth of my feelings for him. When I left him last time, I didn’t know what was waiting on the other side of that decision. I didn’t know about the agonizing months of pain, and loneliness, and even regret. I don’t want to go through that again, but more than that, I don’t want to leave him. I want to love him. I want him to love me.

Dr. Flynn said this could happen, that we should expect this to happen. That must mean that just because it has, doesn’t mean there isn’t hope. I have to believe there is hope. I wanted to fight for him, I told Elena I would fight for him, and this is the battle. I was raised by a soldier, and I know that no one escapes war without hurt, or hardship, or even a few scars. I will not concede to her, and I will not leave Christian behind.

I just have to find away to do that without giving away every piece of myself along the way.

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