This story is one of two favourites and from what I've been receiving it's a favourite of yours too. I'm into giving, so when so many of you expressed your genuine concern about me taking down the stories I was gutted. I'm not going to lie, I wrote these stories for a small part of myself, but they're mainly for you.

This story was inspired by The Dreamer's Lies and Love found in the anime Cardcaptor Sakura fandom category. Before writing this years ago I sought her blessing and permission. In the end, she was gracious to give it to me. I want to thank The Dreamer publicly for giving me the go ahead and approving my twist on her story, from one author to another it means a lot.

But I have to mention her story has been copied and plagiarized numerous times, yes it's that good. I promise this isn't a copy and paste; it's just my spin on Lies and Love in FSOG.

Chapter 1 – Nine years ago

Westchester, New York

Ana

As my blurred, heavy eyes stare aimlessly across the room, my mind tramples over the events that led to this moment. This day couldn't be more perfect even if I'd designed it myself. It's the kind of day any young woman who has found the perfect partner would be content with . . . . . So why am I not happy? . . . . I know why. This isn't what I want.

I'm drowning inside, ready to scream out loud . . . But I'm not supposed to . . . . Pull yourself together, Ana, pull yourself together.

Behind my façade and my elegant makeup is someone who is about to give in. Today is the day when my soul dies, so in retrospect, this should be my funeral, not a wedding. My vision becomes clearer as I focus on my motionless reflection before the vintage full-length mirror, tears mixed with mascara flows incessantly, leaving an eerie blackened streak stained mess on my cheeks but I make sure to dab the wetness before it spills on to my beautiful dress.

I'm both petrified and muddled as my eyes trail to clenched, trembling fingers. The reflection in the mirror mimics a haunting and unrecognizable young woman. This should be a happy day, a day of bliss, merriment. The conjoining of love between two families. Instead, I'm sinking in unremitting grief and my life is careening out of control.

I love him, I really do. . . .but I'm not ready to be anyone's wife.

"Leave us"

From the corner of my eyes, I see them scuttle out of the room, funny how I thought I was alone all this time. Sure feels that way.

"Anastasia . . ."

I close my eyes and exhale slowly, I know my efforts are in vain, but if I can shut her out few a seconds, it will be worth it.

She continues, "What are you doing?"

Her presence is daunting and her eyes are piercing me, I don't have to look at her to feel it.

"Anastasia, I'm asking you again. What are you doing?" she says angrily in a whisper. I open my eyes transfixed, and glare daringly at her face, she isn't amused.

"What am I doing?" I spit mockingly, "Or what am I not doing . . . ."

"For heaven's sake, not this again. And look at you, you've been crying, for what? Because you're not ready to get married?" she laughs sardonically, "We already talked about this, Anastasia. You are going to marry that boy, today . . . In a few minutes as matter of fact . . ."

"No"

Her eyes enlarge by the pitch of my heightened tone, "No?"

"No" I repeat firmly.

She scoffs and twists her lips scornfully, "Your father is dying may I remind you . . ."

"Leave him out of this . . ."

"No. I. Will. Not" she moves closer, narrowing her icy grey eyes and towering dangerously over me. "I wasn't ready to marry your father either, but we all do what is necessary to survive"

"I don't have to do that, I'm doing just fine, this is about you" I point, stabbing her chest.

She grabs my wrist forceful and twists it wickedly. The pain is crippling, and it almost sends my knees to the hardwood floors.

"Carla, stop" I sob wispy.

"You ungrateful bitch . . . You will do as I say, or the consequences will be dire for both you and your father. . . . You know the only way out for your father is if you marry Christian Grey, do you?" her grip tightens, "DO YOU?"

"Yes," I cry.

"Good, you're in this for the same reasons as I am. So don't pretend that you're so high and mighty and not doing this for his money, his family, or the security he can give you"

"I'm not . . . ."

"Shut up. We agreed to do this weeks ago, and now, at the last minute, your feeble conscience wants to make an attempt to supersede common sense and my plan. I have a good mind to . . . ."

We're startled by a small thud outside the door, and she finally releases my throbbing wrist which I clutch instantly. A well-manicured fingertip moves over her lips, gesturing for absolute silence. Delicately, she moves quietly and fastens her ear against the door, in a swift motion she turns the handle and hauls it open. No one is behind the door or even prowling in the corridor, but I know I heard something. She shuts it and resumes the one-sided conversation.

"Now pull yourself together," she demands.

Awkwardly, I try to stretch my lace sleeve over my wrist to conceal oncoming discolouration of her imprinted fingers.

"I'm sending Lana up here to fix this mess," she signals to my face, "and then, you're going to put on a smile with Carrick Grey on your arm and walk down that aisle. You think you have it bad now, I can think of worse if you don't go through with this . . . Defy me, and things wouldn't be easy from here on"

She walks out of the room but the warning and coldness still loom around me, threatening to seep under my skin.

Everything within me caves, and it's official. She's won, and I let her beat me, this choice isn't my own. I'm nothing. A vessel without a voice. A pawn for my mother's survival, the key to continuing her lavish and luxurious way of life.

The temptation to leave everything behind beckons me from the outside, but what about Christian, he won't understand. I have nothing and almost no one. My father is dying and my boyfriend is expecting me to marry him, but it's all for the wrong reasons. I let this spiral out of control, I should have told him about her and this devious plot. I know he would stand with me despite the circumstances and if Daddy was around he wouldn't have condoned this either. Unfortunately, he's fighting for his life . . . . and I'm fighting for my right to choose.

Christian

Momentary murmurs wave through the guests with their accompanied looks of concern. My attention is drawn to a familiar face that's pale and her footsteps are quick, almost running along the side of the designated ceremony area. Quickly I make my way past my groomsmen and accompany her to a private room down the corridor. When I enter she's seated and pouring a glass of water with trembling hands. My eyes are overflowing with worry, the woman is breathing like she just ran a marathon to get here. In the back of my mind I'm anxious, screaming for her to speak now but I give her a minute to compose herself.

She takes a mouthful and exhales, placing the glass on the small table before her.

"I couldn't find Ana, so I went to the dressing room"

"Yes," I prompt.

"Carla was going on and on, I couldn't hear everything, but I heard her say something about a plan they both agreed on to marry you for money"

"No! You heard wrong" I retort certainly.

"I wish I did, Christian, but it's the truth, thinking about it"

"What do mean, what is there to think about? I am going to marry her"

"Let's not be rash here, Christian . . . ."

"No, rash happens if my fiancé goes to the altar and I'm not there waiting for her . . . . Are you sure this is what you heard?"

"Of course," she replies almost immediate, "I wouldn't make something like this up at this ninety-ninth hour. You know how much I like that girl, she's like a daughter to me. It's both hurtful and shocking to hear this"

"I can't believe she would do this to me, I thought she loved me, not this" I gesture all around me.

"Are you going to speak to her? Do you want me to go call her . . . ."

"No, it's all right, it's over"

"What?"

"It's over, Mother, the wedding is off," I say angrily, tugging my tie until it loosens.

"No, Christian, don't be so hasty, you should hear her out before making such pronouncements. You were about to marry the girl, this is not the way to handle such things . . ."

"You're absolute right, Mother, I was about to marry her, before you found out her true intentions before she could make a fool out of me. . . . Before she ruined all of our lives"

Deceived and betrayed by the only woman I've ever loved, and her conniving mother. Without reservations I become unhinged, sobbing uncontrollably, hunched over gripping the edges of a table, I'm numb, I'm not even aware that mother is consoling me, stroking my back.

"Son. . . .I'm sorry. She had me fooled too, we were all fooled. I really liked her, darling. Please reconsider, I'll go get her right away, she should be given the chance to explain herself, you should speak to her. . . ."

"No, I said it's off," I blurt out angrily, "Tell everyone the wedding is off, and get those people out of this house"

I shoot up from the couch, clenching my tie firmly in my fist.

"Christian, please calm down, I didn't raise you this way, if you want to end this you should do it properly . . ."

"You're right Mother you didn't raise me this way but you didn't raise a fool either, Anastasia Steele doesn't deserve any more of my time," I conclude without mercy.

"Christian, please, wait" she beckons, but I don't respond.

Before I can reach the door handle it opens, bumping it hard against the door jam. It's my father with a confused expression on his face. I storm out of the room before he can inquire about anything, disheveling myself in the process. I want to get the hell out of here, away from everyone . . . away from her.