Chapter One - Prologue
. . . . . "Anastasia, Anastasia"
Everything around me is lifeless and empty and most of all his recognizable anger doesn't faze me. I'm standing at the window looking out to the vast world in front of me wondering why am I being punished. What did I do to deserve so much scorn and bitterness from one man? The sound of his voice tears through the adjacent rooms, I make no effort to acknowledge his calls. My private silence is interrupted when he bursts into the room; I deliberately close my eyes to shut him out.
"Hell I've been looking for you, Anastasia" I hear him come closer, standing at my side. "You told Ricardo that you were going to the bathroom that was over an hour ago. I've been looking for you all over the damn hotel; you could've had the decency to say that you were going back to the suite. I had the hotel staff scour the entire building, Taylor is behaving irrationally while you're up here having another silence episode"
My mind clears and calms, I take deep cleansing breaths purging myself from the tightness in my chest and the proximity of his presence. With one last exhale through my lips, I open my eyes I gaze towards the horizon.
"What's wrong with you?" he asks flatly.
I keep staring forward; maybe if I ignore him long enough he'll go away.
"Anastasia, I'm talking to you," he fumes brutishly.
Heatedly I turn away and head over to the bed; he's a few steps behind me. I scoop up the gem-encrusted jewellery box and thrust it towards him.
"Here, I'm giving this back," my voice comes out cracked.
"Like hell you are, that was a wedding gift from my mother, I specifically heard her say that she wanted you to have it"
"I think she may have chosen wrong. . . ."
"God, what are you going on about now?" he sighs, closing his eyes under the weight of exasperation.
"What's going on between you and Savannah?" I accuse heatedly.
Lightning strikes when the glare behind his half-opened lids cuts into me. Slowly he crosses his arms then straightens his posture in that self-assured, daunting stance that only he can produce. It's hard, but I manage to keep the flame inside of me alive to endure his intimidation. The silence drags in the air as one of us is about to get scorched in yet another argument.
"Excuse me?" he says in a low, frightening tone.
I can't tell if he's angry or if he's curious as I will myself to stand my ground. "You heard me, Christian Grey, I saw you with her. You're still with her, even though she hurt you?"
"You were spying on me," he says frigid, "How dare you. . ."
"No, don't you dare turn this around on me. Whilst Ricardo and I are sharing a table awkwardly you two run off in some dark corner whispering in hushed tones about your disastrous marriages-"
"Don't do that, you're putting words in my mouth. The woman was crying, she was upset, and most of all she's a friend of mine. So what if she needed someone to talk, so what if it's me, so what if I offer some words of comfort. You don't get to say what happens here" he motions between us, "I've done nothing wrong to discredit whatever this is. I don't owe you an explanation about my past and furthermore, I owe you nothing. This conversation is over and you're not to bring it up again, ever. Pack your things, we're leaving"
. . . . . .