"RESCUE"
"PROLOGUE"
NEW YORK
Meet Anastasia Rose Steele
Alarm Clock.
"Fucking Monday! Urgh. Give me a break!" I scream at the damn alarm clock. It's hard to get up on a Monday morning early when you have a late Sunday night with your girlfriends at the bar. Putting the damn alarm clock off, I drag my ass to the bathroom of my very lovely condo and get the water running for my bath. I sprinkle strawberry scented bath oil, and the aroma fills the bathroom.
Setting my bath products on the side of my bathtub, I get inside the bath, relax and relish my achievements. Owning your own condo at the Upper East Side of Manhattan meant a great deal for a twenty-six year old. I worked hard to get here. Working 24/7 at the very early start of my real estate agent career. It wasn't easy working up my way to the top. Nowadays I was on the cover of magazines with other "Top Agents".
The warm water soothes my muscles, and the headache I have from the hangover, seems to be getting better. I completely let myself go and let the calmness take over me. Obviously some people hate me enough to be calling me to disturb my serenity. Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around me, I quickly make a dash to the side table of my bed to check on who is calling me. Water from the hair is dripping on my very expensive, beige carpet. Fuck!
I check the caller ID on my phone. Shit.
"Hey baby," I try to sound as adoring as possible.
"Where were you last night? I called you and it kept on going to voicemail," I can hear the irritation in his voice.
"Well I told you remember? It was girls' night. We were at the bar and we got drunk. We all finally could take time out after two whole weeks. I hope you understand," I reason with my boyfriend, hoping he would just understand and let the matter slide. He has anger management issues. I can feel through the phone that he is trying to calm himself before he responds. It's a start I guess.
"Don't do it again. I'm going to be in Los Angeles for another day, the meeting's held up. Try not to mess up while I'm here Ana. You know I panic when I can't reach you and both of us know how I handle panic," his tone is calm and cold and threatening.
"Yeah I'll try my best not to screw up. I have to get ready for work. Got a shit load of new clients after the article in the magazine came up," I try to distract him.
"You know how proud I am of you, don't you?" He sounds genuine.
"I do."
"I'll see you day after tomorrow Ana. I love you."
"Err..yeah me too, bye." Hanging up I start getting ready for my work.
What a bad start of the day. I have been with José Rodriguez for the past two and a half years of my life. He wasn't always like this. But I hadn't known him long before we started our courtship. It wasn't that he was my first boyfriend. I was going through my first heartbreak when I met José. He was a client, and I showed him a few houses and suddenly I found myself dining with him, hanging out with him and before I knew it, I was in his bed. The sex was awesome and for some time, I never really cared about anything else other than the sex. And one day I was head over heels in love with him. I never really got the chance to get to know him. He was always so sweet and caring, like the Prince Charming every girl would want.
José was my Prince Charming for all I cared until one day I had to face his wrath. It was only a small argument, but José reacted in the worst possible way. He slapped me. And from that day onwards, I knew what a big mistake I did. I tried with all my being to change him. Even with my busy schedule, I always took time out to be with him and bring out the sweet and caring man I fell in love with. But it looked like he had put on a show to get me to fall in love with him.
José's father, José Rodriquez Senior, was mafia. And all the power that came with having such a powerful father, José became spoilt and neurotic.
Putting it simply, he was obsessed with me.
And since then, I had tried so many times in so many ways to get out of the shackles that José put me on. But to no avail, nothing ever worked. He would put on a show for the whole world to see, creating scenes publicly was his forte! Every fucking time I tried to break up with him, he would do something so scary that I would have no other choice but to get back with him. And that anger issue he suffers from does not help either.
I am a strong girl for my age. Always have been. My father is an ex army. He wanted a boy, who would join the army like himself. But then I was born and he still fulfilled his dreams in the way that he saw possible. He trained me like a boy, since I was the age of six, he put me in karate, self-defense and kick boxing classes. He even taught me how to shoot so that I could always take care of myself. I only wish now he would have taught me how to escape from clutches of gangsters.
I could take down any man with my skills, but I have to admit, these gangsters and mobster scares the shit out of me.
So here I am, two and a half years later, with no feelings for the man I had once thought to be my Prince Charming.
Fuck fairy tales. And fuck love. They don't exist, not for me.
3 HOURS LATER
SEATTLE
Meet Christian Trevelyan Grey
Fuck this shit man. I am so late for my meeting. Quickly dashing to the bathroom, I run a shower. It feels good. Last night's "expeditions" kept me up all night and I was late in getting back home.
Jenna or was it Jenny? Whatever her name is, she was fucking mind-blowing. Sometimes it is so fucking good to be me. Correction, it is always good to be me. I know I am an asshole, but what the fuck right? I am Christian Grey and I have the world at my feet. I am the fucking King of Seattle.
Getting out of the shower, I dry myself with a towel and put on a robe. I decide to wear one of my white Armani shirts and the gray Dolce & Gabbana three piece-suit. While putting on my socks I realize I forgot the file for the meeting in my study. Mentally I remind myself to take the file while heading out and put on my socks and black Gucci shoes.
While heading for my study, I see my head of security, Taylor and my housekeeper, Mrs. Jones, making out in the kitchen. Seriously? Get a room.
I clear my throat to make my presence known. They pull apart and turn a shade of pink. Taylor speaks first, "We are sorry Sir. We didn't know you were ready to leave already after the late arrival home last night."
"For fuck's sake get a room you both. Just because I allow you both to be in a relationship, does not mean you start cozying up around my home. You have your own quarters. And might I remind you, I have a fucking meeting and I'm late and my head of security is busy playing house," I snap at him. Even though I know I am going to be like a cripple without both Taylor and Mrs. Jones, there has to be a line drawn between an employer and an employee. I don't like when those lines get blurred.
Taylor excuses himself announcing that he will be ready with the car. Mrs. Jones starts preparing my breakfast and I go fetch the file and check my iPhone for emails.
Crap load of rubbish. Checking emails was the worst part of everyday. I only check the very important ones and forward the rest to my assistant Andrea or my second in command Ros. Ros had a big hand in making me the King of Seattle. She believed in me when no one else did. She trusted me and let me lead and today she was one of those very few people who had the balls to put me in my place and did not get intimidated by my presence.
I wasn't always an asshole and a King. There was a time I was that kid in school. That guy who was always picked on and bullied for being fat. Thinking of those times put a smile on my face. Gosh I was such a loser. And if not for her, I would still be a loser. She was always my savior, my rescuer. The only friend I ever had, who never befriended me because I was a "Grey". But just because of me.
Anastasia Steele.
I used to call her my bodyguard. I wish I could get the chance to repay what she did for me. But will she remember me? I was the idiot and she was the popular kid in school. Every guy wanted her. Even though I was her senior in school, she was still my friend and she fought for me and always had my back.
After I got into Harvard, we lost touch. Few days back I saw her on the cover of a magazine. She is doing very well, some sort of a super real estate agent in New York. I can't stop thinking about her since I saw her name on the cover of the magazine. She turned out to be a very beautiful woman, not that she wasn't pretty in school, but now she is the epitome of female beauty. I really would like to meet her. I hope she remembers me.
Brushing aside the thoughts about my one true friend, I check the file and divulge my mind into the world of mergers and acquisitions. Numbers and balance sheets were the love of my life. I've never really thought of any other love. They don't really exist. What existed for me was my occasional indulgence of one-night stands. I am a very famous man and women just come and go. They are only after this face and money. No one really cares what's under this shell of a man.
Love is for fools. To be where I am today, and to continue being here, I have no time to dwell in anything that could weaken me emotionally. Apart from my family and the charity work that I do, I don't give a fuck about anybody.
After having my breakfast I head down through the private elevator of my very luxurious penthouse in Escala and into my SUV. I sit in my car and I see the magazine I kept in the car a few days back. It was on the table of my receptionist in Grey House, my office building. I was walking past the table and suddenly the name Anastasia Steele caught my attention. As soon as I saw her I knew I had to find her and meet her. I had to thank her for everything she did for me when we were kids. She is one of the reasons I am this strong and independent. She saw the fighter in me, when everyone else ignored my presence.
"Taylor get the jet ready for a flight to Manhattan on Friday night. And get Welch to contact me as soon as I am done with the meeting."
"Yes Sir," he nods.
I am going to finally see her after all these years.
Hopefully, she remembers me.
I can't help but smile thinking about my bodyguard.