Ana's POV

I would say that it's just a normal Tuesday, like any other, but that wouldn't be true. I slept for 4 hours last night, which is normal for me. I can run off that just fine. It was the night terrors that finally made me drag my ass out of bed after 5 in the morning. I'm glad Mrs. Jones wasn't around cleaning or starting breakfast. I probably looked like a dead body walking out of a morgue. I shuffled straight to my favourite grand piano in the main room, but not even the comforting sounds of Bach could chase away my demons. I guess that's what a girl gets for being fifty shades of fucked-right-up. Yeah, I'm a billionaire at the age of 26 and I have a potty mouth when I'm pissed off. Sue me. It's not as if I couldn't afford it.

I would be lying to myself if I said that I didn't remember my nightmares. I remember every single detail… There is a man dressed in faded blue jeans, and a wife-beater that could have been white when it was new, but now it is covered in dried up stains of past eaten meals. He smells strongly of BO and faintly like old cigarettes. He speaks softly, but something about the tone he uses, has a hidden foreshadowing of the pain he will inflict. "Come here little bird," he coons out to me. I stay huddled in my corner of the room. His eyes darken at least fifty shades. He comes to me, slowly. Smiling… Always smiling, with his crooked and jagged yellow teeth. His smile speaks volumes of his malicious character, but it was and will forever be the memory of his hands that stay with me in the deep and damp recesses of my sub conscious. Those hands that inflicted so much pain, and so much shame on my little 5 year-old body…

BANG! I am yanked out of my thoughts as the key cover on the piano slams down, nearly catching my fingers. I look up to the clock and realize that it is almost 7:00 AM. I panic as I hear Mrs. Jones coming down the stairs. I don't want her to see me like this… It's too late though. I'm busted as she breezes into the main living area and sees me sitting small and alone at my grand piano. I am shaking like a leaf and so cold...

"Oh, Ana." Her words come out in a rush. She fast-walks over to me and puts her arms around me. "It's okay. I'm here now." I usually hate being touched. It brings back all the old memories of pain, but Mrs. Jones is an old soul and like a mother to me. Her embrace is soft and warm, and she smells like fresh baked cinnamon rolls. Her voice is calm and soothing. Slowly, I begin to relax in her embrace. No words are needed. She knows.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry" I didn't realize that I had been crying, sobbing actually, but I guess it's not every night that I have vivid night terrors about my past. Jesus Grey, get a grip! You're a CEO for shit's sake! But I can't stop the torrents of saltiness that are running down my cheeks and it is at least an hour before my sobs ease into soft hiccups and I become coherent again.

"How about I make you some banana and chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast?" Mrs. Jones knows my favourite comfort breakfast. I glance up at the clock again and let out an exaggerated groan.

"I can't stay, they might fire me if I'm late again!"

We both crack up at my sarcastic comment, because I'm the fucking boss and I do what I want.

Christian's POV

I manage to pull my shit-box car into the parking lot reserved for visitors at Grey International Holdings exactly 20 minutes after the time that my interview with the gorgeous, young and vibrant CEO, Anastasia Grey was supposed to take place. I'm sure she has a great personality to go along with that nice rack, and beautiful head of luscious brown hair. Luscious?! Really?! You so need to get laid Steele!

Honestly, her amazing body was the only reason I agreed to do this stupid interview for my little brother, Kane's, university newspaper. He's at home in Portland missing out on the view due to a fucking nasty flu. Whatever, his loss is my gain. I look at the screen of my phone and realize that I might be screwed out of this interview because I'm so late. I'd be lying if I said that the sleek and modern skyscraper towering over me wasn't impressive. I decide I had better run for it, even though the edible Miss Grey will probably keep me waiting in the lobby for another half an hour before she decides to grace me with her presence. I mentally shake my head, and slow my pace down. Why hurry? All rich people are the same. I settle on a normal pace to the front desk instead.

Eye spy with my little eye… A smokin' hot little blonde babe at the front desk. I could roast marshmallows on you all night baby. She hears my approach and looks up from her computer. I think I see her do a double take. It must be my all-American good looks. I'm glad I wore my favorite faded jeans, my worn sneakers, and a white t-shirt that shows off the muscles that I work damn hard for. Don't applaud yet, because I'm topping off my look with my favourite faded leather jacket. In my experience, chicks will jump through hoops to get laid by me when they think I'm a 'bad boy'. I decide to practice my charm and flash her a crooked grin that makes all the girls melt for me.

"Hey beautiful, my name is Christian Steele, wanna get out of here?" I flash a wink and she looks momentarily flustered before she flushes and shakes her head, presumably to clear any un-work related thoughts of me. Apparently it works because a professional deadpan look appears on her face.

"Mr. Steele, you're late. Miss Grey has been waiting for you to arrive for the past thirty minutes!"

"I guess I got lost in traffic." Geez, I hope this doesn't sound as lame coming out of my mouth as a think it does, but it's all the excuse I have.

"You'll need something better than that. Miss Grey has had to do a great deal of rearranging of her schedule to fit your interview in today. You should be more grateful."

I immediately look around and spot security cameras. I wonder if they pick up sound too. They must with the way this blonde chick is kissing ass. She loses any appeal she had when I first saw her. I hate push overs, they piss me off. In fact, it amazes me that Anastasia Grey can tolerate ass kissers. I thought she was a hard ass, cutthroat, and ruthless business woman. I feel a little less excitement at meeting her.

I struggle to keep a smile plastered to my face as a say sweetly, "Well lead the way, I wouldn't want to keep Miss Grey waiting any longer then." I hope Miss CEO can hear me.

Ana's POV

This punk kid better have a reason for keeping me waiting. I had to cancel three other mergers and acquisitions meetings that I've had on the rocks for the past two months, and I had to move several other appointments with charity fundraiser heads. All for some kid who thinks he is going to be a journalist in the future. Kane Steele has just pissed me off. I hope he has a good reason. I sit back in my comfortable desk chair and swivel around to face the glorious view of Seattle that is below me. Deep breaths…

After five minutes, I feel calm again. I risk a glance at the clock and realize that the kid is now 20 minutes late. Fuck. I impatiently buzz my secretary, Jessica.

"Yes Miss Grey?" She sounds hesitant. Good.

"Has our guest, Kane Steele, decided to grace us with his presence yet?"

"Um… No. Kane Steele is indisposed. So his older brother, Christian is taking his place."

"And where, pray tell, is Mr. Christian Steele?"

"I'm trying everything I can to find out Miss Grey." She sounds as tired as I feel.

"Thank you Jessica. Please inform me when he gets here."

"Yes Miss Grey."

I sigh and lean back in my chair. Kids these days. I decide to lean back and read one of my favorite novels, seeing as how I apparently have time to do so. I pull out a worn copy of Wuthering Heights.

I am just getting into the story line when I hear the intercom on my desk buzz.

"Yes."

"Christian Steele is here Miss Grey. I will escort him to your office promptly." FINALLY!

"Thank you, Jessica."

I pull out my compact mirror and touch up my light eye liner and blush. I apply a very neutral pink lip gloss that matches my light pink blouse and I stand. I have just finished smoothing down my light grey pencil skirt when I hear a knock on the door.

I take a deep shuddery breath. I really hate interviews. Everyone always wants to dissect me and figure out what makes me tick. I dread personal questions. Here goes nothing, be strong Grey.

"Come in." I call out in a voice that I'm surprised to find does not shake one bit. I'm the boss.

Christian's POV

I have to admit, I'm seriously impressed with the way the top floor is decorated. It's all very classical, sleek, and modern. It's definitely not the cold and clinical like most national headquarters. There is a warmth here that screams 'WOMAN CEO' at me. Don't get me wrong, it's great and comforting but it's distracting me. I haven't been paying attention and I nearly run smack into the back of the pretty blonde when she stops in front of a frosted glass door. There is no name plate, but I know it is Miss Grey's office from the way blondie fixes her hair and pulls at her sleeves. Gotta look great for the master eh Babe?

Blondie knocks and the voice that I hear is faint but assertive. And damn sexy. "Come in." I know it's only two words but there is so much promise within them. Melted chocolate, late nights and crazy lovemaking. Wait what?! Shit, now I've got an awkward boner and I haven't even seen her face. Suddenly, I'm nervous and I hope all the magazine pictures are photo shopped and Anastasia Grey is really just an ugly old troll.

I guess it's no surprise that I almost fall flat on my face when blondie opens the door and I see one very gorgeous woman standing in front of a very large desk. She is staring at me with bright blue eyes that make me think of the Caribbean oceans and sultry summer nights.

"Miss Grey, this is Christian Steele." Blondie says in an I-need-to-please voice that makes me gag.

"Thank you Jessica, I will buzz you when we are done here." There is a smile on Miss Gorgeous' face that makes me hard in all the right places. I supress a groan and somehow remember my manners.

"Hello Miss Grey, My name is Christian Steele. I'm very happy that you could clear your schedule for me." I hesitantly extend my hand for her to shake. She must be pissed because the smile slips from her face, and from those sexy blue eyes.

"I hope you have a good explanation for being late Mr. Steele." Her voice is cold and I feel my dick make a hasty retreat downtown.

"I had trouble with the directions my brother gave me." I try to soften her up with my infamous crooked grin. And surprisingly it actually works. She smiles, although it does not reach her eyes.

"Well that's alright. Speaking of your brother, please give him my best wishes for a fast recovery." She gestures to a very rigid couch in the corner, "I believe you have some questions to ask me." I swear to god I see a coy smile playing at the edges of her full lips. Damn I wonder how she tastes.

She is so polite. I bet she's a freak in bed. WHAT? Now my thoughts have taken a detour down a dark back alley. She turns away and walks toward the couch, and I can't help myself from staring at her perfectly round ass and I wonder how many nooners she's had on that couch. I mentally shake my head and walk over to her. Might as well get down to business.

I pull out my brother's tape recorder and set it on the round glass coffee table in front of the delectable Anastasia Grey. "Mind if I record this conversation Miss Grey?" I give her an honest and shy smile followed by a quick wink. I hope my mind isn't playing tricks on me, but I swear I hear her suck a small breath in through her teeth. Yes.

I plaster a fuck-me smile on my face and sit down close to her. Time to hook her with your famous charm Steele… I find myself turning towards her to see her reactions. Kane says that's one of the top ten rules to a great interviewer, it's just a plus that this little number is smokin'.

I am just about to ask her what she does in her free time when my knee involuntarily brushes hers. Sparks shoot through me, making my eyes go wide. I am rock hard instantly, all I want to do is pull her to me and fuck her brains out. I feel high, delirious. I can't help myself, I reach out to touch her face.

Call me stupid, but I have no idea why her eyes darkened with hatred and she jumped up and away like I had killed her favourite puppy.

"Get the fuck out of here." She venomously hissed. Was it something I said?