A different story where Christian and Ana meet on a Mail Order Site.

Christian Grey is 28 year old successful secretive billionaire. Adopted at age 4 by Grey's.

Anastasia Steele is 20 year old and daughter of Carla and Raymond Steele.

Chapter one

Christian

Looking at my iPhone screen, I feel like it's the end of the world.

I am so fucked...

I know you must be thinking why I am behaving like a jerk, so let me tell you how this all started.. oh sorry I meant ended.

Once upon a time...no not that long ago it had started a year before when my mother, Grace found out about Elena Lincoln and my fucked up past. You wanna know who's Elena Lincoln

Oh she happens to be the person who took my Virginity when I was 15, who's also 20 years older than me and by God's grace my mother Best friend. Yeah I know very fuckedup.

Yes my mother found out that. It was more like she heard Elena giving instructions to the new Sub she had selected for me, Suzanne about my likes, dislikes and do's and don't. She was telling me about her ability to satisfy my needs that's when entered my living room. If look can kill then Elena would have been turned into ashes right then and there.

Think happened so fast I don't know when my mom cross the distance between Elena and her the next thing I know was Suzanne leaving my apartment as if the house on the fire.

Before I can fully grasp the situation unfolding, Grace bursts into the room and forges herself between me and Elena. My mother, the composed picture of graciousness, is now red with seething rage.

"Get the hell out of my son's house!" Grace says again, and then, like a bolt of lightning snapped down from on high, she hauls off and strikes Elena hard across the face. And I can feel it all the way back to when I was fifteen, on that day I first went to work in Elena's yard.

Holy fuck.

This can't be happening.

"Get out!" Grace yells and the boom is enough to bring Elena to submission. She's not on her knees, but she may as well be. Elena clasps her jaw over the handprint my mother just branded across her face.

Elena stands there, I think in shock, for a long moment. Or at least it feels that way to us bystanders waiting to breathe. I'm expecting her to say something—anything—but she doesn't. She just tucks her tail between her legs and rushes out the door.

I always thought Elena was brave. She's a fucking coward.

"When?" Grace asks and her voice is so fragile. The look of party popping champagne she had before is now a half-glass found the morning after

"I haven't been with her for a long time..." I say, as if that might be of some consultation. Though I realize that just offers a worse timeframe.

"When did it start?" Grace asks, her eyes welling up and threatening to spill.

"Tell me the truth." The way she's looking at me, I wonder just how much of the conversation she's heard.

"I was young," I say and Grace closes her eyes tight, pushing a tear out and down her cheek.

I fucking hate myself.

I've made her cry and it hurts like bitch

And she was so proud of me tonight.

I failed her. I disappointed her.

"I failed you," she says and she looks up at me, now fully in tears.

Failed me? She thinks...

"What? No." I move to her. I have the compulsion to hug her, but I don't think she'd want me to. So I just stand close and offer her my handkerchief. "I failed you. I failed everyone."

"Abused children end up in abusive relationships. I knew that," she says, dabbing her eyes with my monogram, almost lecturing herself under her breath.

Abusive?

This wasn't the reaction I expected.

Abused?

"No, Mom. It wasn't like that." I shake my head.

"Did she hurt you?" She looks me over, as if she could somehow still stitch up open wounds.

I don't know exactly how to answer that.

Did she hurt me?

She beat the fuck out of me daily.

She taught me how to hurt others.

But abuse?

"She didn't do anything I didn't agree to," I say.

"That's not answering my question," she says, and I feel like a boy of ten. I wish I could be sent to my room and this all would be over.

Mom's eyes are piercing. "Tell me. How old were you when this all started?" she says through clenched teeth. It's the voice that I've only heard on rare occasions, and I know I'm doomed. She will not stop until she has an answer.

"Sixteen," I whisper.

She narrows her eyes and cocks her head to one side.

"Try again." Her voice is chillingly quiet.

Hell. How does she know?

"Christian," she warns, prompting me.

"Fifteen."

She closes her eyes like I've stabbed her, her hand flying to her mouth as she stifles a sob. When she opens them, they're filled with pain and unshed tears.

"Mom…" I try to think of something to say to take that pain away. I step toward her and she holds up her hand to stop me.

"Christian. I am so mad at you right now. I suggest you don't come any closer."

"How did you know? That I lied," I ask.

"For heaven's sake, Christian—I'm your mother," she snaps and dashes a fallen tear from her cheek.

I feel myself blushing, feeling stupid and slightly piqued at the same time. Only my mom can make me feel this way. My mom.

I thought I was a better liar.

"Yes, you should look shamefaced. How long did this go on for? How long did you lie to us, Christian?"

I shrug. I don't want her to know.

"Tell me!" she insists.

"A few years."

"Years! Years!" she shouts, making me cringe. She so rarely shouts.

"I can't believe it. That fucking woman."

I gasp. I have never heard Grace swear. Ever. It shocks me.

She turns and paces to the window. I stay standing. Paralyzed. Speechless.

Mom just cursed.

"And to think, all the times she's been here…" Grace groans and puts her head in her hands. I cannot stand by any longer. I step toward her and wrap my arms around her. This is so new to me, holding my mom. I pull her to my chest, and she starts to weep quietly.

"I've already thought you dead this week, and now this," she sobs.

"Mom—it's not what you think."

"Don't even try it, Christian. I saw you, I heard what you said. That she taught you to...fuck"

She's said it again!

I flinch—this isn't her. She doesn't swear. It's mortifying to think I have something to do with this. The thought of hurting Grace is excruciating. I'd never want to hurt her. She saved me. And all at once I'm overwhelmed by my shame and my remorse.

"I knew something happened when you were fifteen. She was the reason, wasn't she? The reason you suddenly calmed down, seemed to focus? Oh, Christian. What did she do to you?"

Mom! Why is she overreacting? Do I tell her that Elena brought me under control? I don't have to tell her how. "Yes," I murmur.

She groans again. "Oh, Christian. I've gotten drunk with that woman, spilled my soul to her so many nights. And to think…"

"My relationship with her has nothing to do with your friendship."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Christian! She abused my trust. She abused my son!" Her voice cracks, and once more she buries her face in her hands.

"Mom—it didn't feel like that."

She stands back and swats me around the head, making me duck.

"Words fail me, Christian. Fail me. Where did I go wrong?"

"Mom, this is not your fault."

"How? How did it start?" She holds her hand up and continues hurriedly. "I don't want to know that. What will your father say?"

Fuck.

Carrick will go batshit.

Suddenly I'm fifteen again, dreading another of his interminable lectures on personal responsibility and acceptable behavior. Christ, that's the last thing I want.

"Yes, he'll be mad as hell," Mom interjects, correctly interpreting my expression. "We knew something had happened. You changed overnight—and to think it was because you got laid by my best friend."

Right now, I want the floor to swallow me up.

"Mom—it's been, it's done, it's gone. She did me no harm."

She puts her head in her hands once more. Suddenly her eyes fly up to meet mine, and widen in horror.

Fuck. What now?

"No!" she breathes.

"What?"

"Were you the one Linc found out about? When he put her in the hospital years ago?"

Fuck.

"Yes." I hang my head, remembering that frantic call Elena made to me and the scene unfolding once I got there. Her face was almost unrecognizable. And I almost killed a man.

"It wasn't an accident you were there, was it?" Grace asks and I just shake my head.

There's a long silent pause. I stand watching her as she stares out the kitchen window, arms folded in front of her, as if to keep warm or hug herself—or maybe just to guard against me. I'm sure she's going through the timeline in her head, trying to pin the dates and moments Elena had her claws in me, but there's no way she'll ever guess to what extent. I'm sure she's regretting ever agreeing to adopt me, as I've been nothing but an utter disappointment. Even on the day I finally bring her happiness, I bring her pain. I don't want to make this harder on her...

She narrows her eyes at me. "I don't want the sordid details, Christian. Because that's what this is—nasty, sordid, squalid. What kind of woman does that to a fifteen-year-old boy? It's disgusting. To think of all the confidences I've shared with her. Well, you can be sure she'll never set foot in this house again." She presses her lips together in determination. "And you should cease all contact with her."

"Mom, um…Elena and I run a very successful business together."

"No, Christian. You cut your ties with her."

I stare at her, speechless. How can she tell me what to do? I'm twenty-eight years old, for fuck's sake.

"Mom—"

"No, Christian—I'm serious. If you don't, I will go to the police."

I pale. "You wouldn't."

"I will. I couldn't stop it then, but I can now."

"You're just real mad, Mom, and I don't blame you—but you're overreacting."

"Don't tell me I'm overreacting," she yells. "You are not going to have any kind of relationship with someone who can abuse a troubled, immature child! She should come with a health warning." She's glowering at me.

"Okay." I hold my hands up defensively and she seems to compose herself.

PRESENT

Andrea's voice bring me back to present

"Mr. Grey, your next meeting is in 10 minutes."

"Okay" I tell her as she stands there as if I am her most favourite Ice-cream and she had been starved for decades. I gave her a sharp look that made her leave my office.

Fuck. Not my secretary, it would be a loss to fire her. After all she is very competent and talented.

Fuck

Since my new found sexuality to the world has made my life a mess. You wanna know how, Well I was never seen with a girl before or bring anyone as dates to society event so they assumed that I am gay, even my family thinks the same but they never say it right out and I never took pleasure in correcting their assumption. I was okay with my life as it was but then mom found out everything and decided to run my life herself because according to her I am not living my life, I am surviving it and she wants me to open up. And I am letting her do so.

Guilt that's what letting her run my life. I have already seen her in pain and I don't wanna hurt her further.

Now she kept setting me up with dates and/or demand to bring dates to society event. I don't know how but it became a known fact that I am not gay. I can't believe a year before women look at me but never dare approach now all of them want a piece of me.

That's why I'm filled with dread just thinking about tonight's charity event at my parents house.