Hi guys! This is my very first FSOG fanfic and one of the few I have in english. My native laguage is spanish so I'm sorry for some of grammar mistakes you may find in here. This story is based in a movie, though only the first (of two) plot was taken from such movie and the rest of the fic is original obviously based on the books. I hope you enjoy it and leave some reviews letting me know in which aspects I should keep an eye on.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to E.L James but the story is a product of my imagination.
Chapter 1
My phone vibrates for the fourth time and I ignore the call by sliding my finger across the screen. I lost the thread of the conversation for more than five minutes, they could be negotiating the price of the company in an upcoming sale and I would have no idea. I roll my eyes at the thought of Christian and his mania for control while I let out a sigh of relief after seeing others rising from their chairs.
I hasten to take my stuff and get out as soon as possible from the room, avoiding at all costs the questions spoken in a talk in which only my body was present.
"Claire, call Christian and tell him I'll send him a message as soon as I get out of here in…" I look at my clock. "A couple of hours. I have run to the third floor now" I can see the panic in the eyes of my receptionist; dealing with Mr. Grey is not an easy task, especially when his wife has ignored four of his calls without having arrived home at the usual time. I sympathize with Claire and I can't help but feeling a little guilty, because it is my personal duty to deal with my husband and his bad temper, but after spending eleven hours in the same building, I'm not in the mood to appease his anxiety by phone.
The doors close and I feel a cold shiver run down my back in the presence of another person next to me in the elevator. "Sawyer!" I exclaim breathlessly. I thank my bodyguards for being invisible, but their professionalism makes me forget that they have taken the place of my shadow, following me everywhere. "You should go home" And there is it, that look of disapproval so well learned from Christian.
"My job is not over until you get home, Ma'am." I roll my eyes, I glance at phone and turn the airplane mode on, shutting down all types of communication networks in the device.
"That according to my husband, we both should have gone home two hours ago. I'll make this meeting shorter than the others. I already told Christian about my delay. Also, I have the car in the parking lot, I know how to get home... I'm a big girl" I add with a mischievous look, knowing that it will anger Sawyer.
The elevator stops but neither of us takes a step further, we hold our eyes and I try to fight the giggle forming in my throat, because I think that the situation is a bit comical, anyone who saw us would say we're a pair of kids; yet impotence makes my eyes burn, threatening to let out the angry tears I tend to cry when I dwell on the thought of Christian and his control freakiness.
"It will be our little secret" I whisper weakly, but we both know that sooner or later Christian will find out the truth.
Sawyer looks at me with his eyes fixed on mine, analyzing his options, sharing the same image that I have in my mind: Christian in a rage attack with both of us in his studio for defying his orders.
"The parking lot is a dangerous place for anyone, I'll leave the car parked outside the building for you to go safely home, ma'am" He holds the door with his hand to prevent it from closing and I leave the elevator feeling even guiltier than before. But everyone around Christian, himself included, know that I hate being watched all the time and that having most, if not all, of my movements in the spotlight our security department, can unleash the worst of me.
Just after half past eight I finally put down the pen with which I have been anxiously sketching in my report throughout the meeting. I know that Christian should have a hole in the floor of our living room due to the repetition of his steps in the same place and Gail would receive me politely as always, hiding the horrors of the past hours behind a smile. I cringe and it has nothing to do with the building's air conditioner system.
The sky has darkened earlier than normal, it has begun to rain and for the first time I shudder with fear after noticing the absence of Sawyer next to me, not only because driving at night while it's raining it's more dangerous, but because if Christian gets to acknowledge about my little arrangement, the outcome will be even worse.
"We wouldn't want to ruin the Chanel dress under the rain, right?" Claire smiles and hands me an umbrella.
"What are you doing here?" The irritation in my voice is evident. I hate that others should sacrifice time with their loved ones by taking care of my back, it's not fair and it is something that Christian never got to understand. Why would they try so hard to keep me alive in a world in which I have survived twenty-three years all by myself?
"I-I had some pending files and my boyfriend offered to come and get me" I nod, frowning and kiss Claire's cheek before leaving.
As Sawyer promised, the Saab is waiting for me only a couple of steps from the building's foyer and I regret that my emotions took control over me earlier, if it wasn't for Claire and her quick thinking, I would have soaked in seconds.
Although it is late, the traffic is dense and I assume that I'm not the only one going home from the office. The car rumbles under my feet as if it were a wild animal, but this beast is designed to speed within a couple of seconds and fly through the streets at the speed of light rather than dwell on, what it seems, all the traffic lights on the way home.
A low battery warning on the screen of my phone reminds me that I should've texted Christian as soon as I left the conference room. I turn off the airplane mode hoping to get to send a short text when I'm attacked by a flood of notifications with sounds and Christian's shouty capitals.
18:45Claire just called, I'll see you at home.
19:22 Still in the meeting?
19:35 I have called you FOUR times already... ANSWER ME
19:48 ANASTASIA where on earth are you?!
19:50 I'VE HIT A LIMIT ON YOUR VOICEMAIL
20:13 I CALLED SAWYER, YOU BOTH ARE IN BIG TROUBLE
20:28 ANASTASIA, IT'S ALMOST 9PM, WHERE ARE YOU?
20:35 I'm coming for you, I hope you're still in the building and haven't done anything stupid
I panic. Its eight forty in my dashboard clock, which means that Christian is halfway to the office, considering that Christian under this kind of stress becomes a driver from Fast and Furious.
I can feel the way my blood rises to my head and my heart accelerates with the adrenaline. I'm in trouble. My hands are gripping the steering wheel, my nails are pressed against my palms and the car horns behind me bring me back to reality. I accelerate slowly, I'm having trouble focusing, my whole body trembles and I'm freaking out. I try to breathe but the image of a very angry Christian crosses my mind and my lungs start to hyperventilate.
I broke the rules of my overprotective husband, they are clearly there to prevent situations like this: disturb the over-controlled world of Christian Grey.
I can hear furious horns behind my back, at the other side of the windshield, the wet floor looks annoyingly slow and I realize that I'm driving on the fast track at 20 miles per hour. I'm paralyzed and my brain is slowly shutting down.
A beep from my phone tells me there's only a 10% of the battery. Trying to put the passcode is an impossible task and it takes me three attempts before hitting the right numbers; I proceed to call Christian. After the first call, his voice makes me jump. "Anastasia" His tone is stern, angry and I imagine his gray eyes as hard as stone.
"Chri-" The blood freezes in my body when I hear the sound of a crash not far from Christian's line, actually, it seemed to come from his phone. My hands start to sweat and my heart beats even faster than before, I feel like I'm going to faint, I hear no voice and no answer on the other side of the line, just the sound of glass breaking into million pieces and the metallic sound of another collision.
Instinctively I sink my foot on the brake and press it hard, making the car stop in the middle of the road, and I don't really care about the traffic or the other cars behind me, nothing matters, Christian just had an accident and his phone is dead.
I concentrate on the windshield pens and its constant movement, left, right, left, right, while I try to regain my composure. I have to get out of here, I have to keep moving and look for my husband. I'm about to start the engine again but everything goes black.