A/N: Hey everybody. I'm attempting to revive this story from the dead. Unfortunately- 60-70 hour work weeks have made it more difficult for me to devote any energy to creativity. I can say I have the next portion after this already written so it wont be a year before the next update. I promise!

After they left the playroom, Grey had excused himself, saying he had work he needed to attend to. He suggested Ana use the time to get dressed and become acquainted with the penthouse and relax before dismissing her. She would not be relaxing, but she was eager to get to know the penthouse, and there for her would-be captor a little better.

When Ana returned to her bedroom the closet was filled with a variety of outfits, all expensive and classy, not at all what Ana would have expected for a supposed slave's wardrobe to entail.

She rifled through the dresses, skirts, blouses, and slacks, marveling at the expense and taste her would-be captor had. This seemed an unnecessary extravagance, given her current position and that the plan was she would not last in his lifestyle for more than 3 months. Ana wondered why Grey would bother with the pretense. She also noted that the man's tastes leaned toward chic dresses and skirts on his women. She huffed at that and selected a pair of skinny denim jeans and a form-fitting black blouse. The material was light and provided the movement she would need if she had to fight She didn't think she would need to, but it was always best to be prepared.

Ana had to admit it was nice to have real clothes on, the pajamas were starting to make her feel more like a vagabond then an agent. She was grateful for the new wardrobe, even if she did not entirely understand it.

Once dressed, Ana ventured out of her room and decided to do as Grey had suggested and explore the apartment. Her bedroom was on the second floor of the massive penthouse at the end of a long corridor. She checked each of the additional doors, 2 more guest bedrooms, each filled with top-of-the-line furniture and designed impeccably, if impersonally, with minimalist, chic furniture. The bedrooms each had an ensuite bathroom, and there was another separate bathroom that opened to the hallway. That made four bathrooms in this wing of the apartment, alone.

At the far end of the hallway was a closed-off great room, there was a large television and comfortable-looking leather sofas provided ample seating room. The room was equipped with surround sound, and the large television was hooked up to a cable box, a DVD-player, and each of the latest video gaming systems. Ana grinned to herself as she touched the Xbox One on the stand in passing. Grey had not struck her as the gamer-type. On the far wall of the media room, there were shelves of movies, and games, everything organized immaculately. Not even a remote-control was out of place. She once again wondered if Grey actually used this room or if it was just for show.

Perhaps he had had the room set up for his would-be slaves. He'd told Ana to entertain herself while he worked, perhaps he expected her to plunk herself down on one of the sofas and zone out on a romantic comedy or two while conveniently forgetting the reality of her situation until he was ready for her again. Is that what his previous girls had done? Had they thanked their lucky stars while watching Ryan Gosling proclaim his undying love for some doe-eyed young thing? Ana had to scoff at that, did Grey really think a woman in her situation could just tune out what had been done to them and relax?

Ana left the media room the way she had found it – untouched. She made her way to the stairs and down to the main floor of the penthouse. The great room was still clean and orderly, barely lived in, the dining room immaculate and unused, the large chef's kitchen was something out of a magazine, yet Grey did not cook, and Mrs. Jones was now nowhere to be found. He'd mentioned that he'd instructed her to "make herself scarce" the next couple of days and Ana was not entirely sure what the woman's hours were or how Grey managed to instill so much trust in her ability not to give him away.

Downstairs, there was another hallway that led to what Ana assumed must have been Grey's Master bedroom. When he'd tested the double-door entry to the room, however, it was locked. She was sure she could find something in the penthouse to pick the lock with but she figured she would give Grey his privacy for now and moved on. Greys "playroom" was also down this corridor. It too was locked but Ana had seen all she needed to in there before. There was another game room, this one held a cozy looking sofa, a pool table, and an entire wall of books, all ordered alphabetical by author. Greys tastes were very varied, if these were his books –Tolstoy to Rowling.

Ana ventured back into the kitchen and the great room, which remained breathtaking with its views of the Seattle skyline. She venture through the room to the last unexplored corridor of the penthouse. Another guest bedroom, and bathroom, storage and linens, nothing out of the ordinary. At the end of the hallway was another shut door. Through the crack of the door, Ana could see that there was a light on. This, Ana presumed, must have been Grey's office. He'd said he had some work to do this afternoon. Ana wondered just what, exactly, he was working on. She crept closer to the closed door, remaining as silent as possible. She remembered Grey's impeccable hearing from the night before and did not want to alert him to her presence.

Through the door, she could hear the clacking of fingers on a keyboard. He was a fast typist, from the sound of it. The phone rang and she heard his voice answer immediately.

"Grey," She heard him say . There was a pause before he spoke again, "Dr. Flynn, what a pleasant surprise." Ana caught the distinct whiff of sarcasm in Grey's tone through the door.

"Oh he did, did he? Well, my brother should learn to keep his mouth shut." Another pause. Grey mentioned his brother a lot, Ana wondered what Grey's counterpoint's role was in all of this. And she wondered who this Dr. Flynn was, was he a fellow slaver? She filed the name away for future investigation.

"Yes, that is correct. I did acquire a new girl this weekend. No, I do not believe it is 'too soon.' And yes, I am, as always Dr. Flynn, aware of the risks." Grey pauses again, he sounded exasperated.

"I don't know, yet…" He paused, "I don't know, yet." He answered again then paused. "John, the girl's been here 3 days, she's still getting over the drugs they pumped into her. Elena Lincoln has been breathing down my neck ever since the auction, and believe it or not, I still have a company to run so please forgive me if I haven't gotten to know her entire life's story!" Grey was raising his voice slightly, Ana could hear him clearly through the door now. He was aggravated and on edge. She thought she heard the rolling of a chair, he was up and pacing now. She decided to retreat, lest she be caught eavesdropping.

Ana moved quickly back down the hall and into the great room. She checked the clock in the kitchen, it was well past lunch time. An idea struck her. She rifled through the refrigerator and the pantry. Both were quite well-stocked for a man who did not cook. She wondered how he managed when his Mrs. Jones took a holiday. She found the ingredients she needed and set to work.

Ten minutes later, Ana had two neatly-crafted turkey sandwiches on a plate. She tucked two water bottles under her arm and took the plate in her right hand. Christian had not yet ventured forth from his office and Ana was tired of waiting.

Ana moved through the hall back to Christian's office, sandwiches in hand. She paused just briefly – the room was quiet again, save for the clacking of fingertips on a keyboard. It sounded as though he was off the phone. Ana reminded herself of her persona, then gently knocked on the door. She heard the shuffling of papers, and a chair moving across the wooden floor before-

"Come in." Grey's voice was a little gruff- as if he'd been taken by surprise and was trying to hide it.

Ana entered the room cautiously, keeping her gaze slightly averted and adopting the meek, insecure tone she knew Grey responded to.

"I thought you might be getting hungry, Sir…so I made sandwiches." She set the plates down on a cleared spot on his desk and presented him with the water before standing off to the side, as if unsure of where to go. She saw a brief look of uncertainty in Grey's eyes as he looked from the sandwiches to her and back again. He recovered quickly and checked his watch.

"I didn't realize how late it had gotten…thank you, Miss Steele. Though you are by no means required to serve me like this. I would not expect you to – I am perfectly capable of feeding myself." As if on cue, Grey's stomach made a low-key gurgle noise. Ana let herself giggle in response. Grey frowned in embarrassment.

"I didn't mind, really" Ana assured him, "I like keeping busy." She made a show of looking awkward where she stood as she looked around Grey's Office. Like the rest of the apartment, it was immaculate, and minimalistic in its décor. Grey's desk was utilitarian, with a monitor, keyboard, and laptop docking station neatly arranged atop.

"I know the feeling," Grey replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. He was watching her, her gawky movements seemed to endear her to him. She gave him a shy smile to really kick things into gear.

"I um... I hope you like turkey, I wasn't really sure but the deli meat was in your fridge so I…"

"I enjoy all foods, Miss Steele." He interrupted her, still with that hint of amusement in his tone. "Turkey sandwiches are…a classic. My office, however is not the greatest in terms of ambiance. Would you join me in the great room for lunch, Miss Steele? I think it's time we get to know each other better."

Ana could not have agreed more.

"Tell me about yourself, Miss Steele."

Grey sat across from her in the great room, his legs crossed, his demeanor relaxed. His turkey sandwich was half eaten and he was looking at her expectantly. Telling Grey about herself was not what Ana had had in mind. She wanted to pick his brain. Get into his inner-workings, understand why he did the things he did. She needed to know more about this world of his.

Instead, Grey seemed to have taken a keen interest in getting to know her better. She wasn't sure why, and she didn't feel like going over her entire backstory with this man, particularly when it was not real to begin with. She shifted in her seat, picking at her sandwich before responding.

"I-I don't know, there's not much to say really…Erm…" She trailed off, looking down at her lap.

"Oh come now, Miss Steele. Don't sell yourself short. You are fascinating."

Ana could feel Grey's hot gaze on her, she was going to have to give him something.

"…Fascinating? Sir?" She looked up and let herself be caught by those gun-metal eyes of his; heat rose to her cheeks. He smirked at her in response.

"Oh yes….You confound me, Miss Steele. Your confidence comes in fits and rages. Taylor tells me that you charged at him the first night you were here. And that you looked like you thought you might be able to take him. That was very brave, if not foolish, of you Anastasia, you are…dauntless. And then there are times when you can't seem to look me in the eye. Why is that?"

Ana did not know how to respond to that. She told herself the effect she let him think he had on her was all an act, but if she was honest, her body betrayed her. She was attracted to him – and it was causing more problems than it was worth.

"I…" She trailed off and bit her lip, only half thinking about how she knew his eyes would follow the action. It worked. She saw his eyes darken in response.

"I pride myself on knowing what makes people tick, Anastasia, and I've known you a matter of days now yet you still confound me. You challenge me, you sass me, you give me these exasperated looks, and then other times you obey without question." Grey continued, "You continue to surprise me, Miss Steele. You flirt, and then withdraw into yourself. You are brave when you have to be, then timid when I least expect it, I cannot get a good handle on who you are, Anastasia, and it is fascinating."

"Who I am? I'm just…me." Ana replied rather lamely. She was off her game with Grey – he was seeing through some of her tactics. But she had a way she could spin this with him that she knew would catch him hook, line, and sinker. "You…you make me feel safe- and I'm…Well, I'm not really used to that."

Grey quirked an eyebrow at her. She had him intrigued but he was clearly waiting for her to elaborate.

"I…well…I've never really had that, you know? That safe feeling. My mother died when I was…very young. My father was…away in the military at the time, I guess he was MIA and they couldn't reach him, so I was placed into foster care." Ana paused her story, as if collecting herself. In truth she needed a moment to remember her back story, to make sure it ticked the right boxes and would correspond with her falsified background check the agency had provided.

"I don't remember a lot from when I was little but I think I was happy, at least in the beginning. The family I was with had wanted children but couldn't have any of their own, so they fostered. But they ran into trouble financially and started fighting- they broke up – decided they didn't want their neat little foster family any more…After that I moved around a lot." She made a show of looking away from him, swallowing hard before she continued.

"When I was 15 – I was fostered by this older couple. I thought it seemed like a pretty good place, you know? They had been married 20 years, never had any kids of their own, financially stable…perfect family on paper… " She trailed off again and shuddered dramatically.

"Were they not?" Grey prompted gently.

"They were not." Ana confirmed, but did not elaborate. She remembered her own mother- the crack-addled mess of woman who sold her own daughter into a life of prostitution and pain for a quick fix. She wondered if the woman had ever regretted her actions. The emotions bubbled to the surface, real and unbridled. Angry tears filled Ana's eyes, she tried to blink them away but a few tears fell. This was not lost on Grey.

In the next instant he presented her with a tissue.

"You do not have to tell me about them, Miss Steele. But I do think it might help you to talk to someone. I have a friend- a psychiatrist whom I trust implicitly. He has asked to see you, when you are ready. He understands the toll this kind of experience can take on a person's psyche. He has helped others in the past and I think he can help you."

That was precisely what Ana did not need, a trained psychoanalyst watching her every move and word. She was good, but she didn't want to have to prove she was that good. She shrugged her shoulders and looked away from Grey in response.
"Do…do I have to?" She asked, deliberately making the question sound child-like in nature, hoping to appeal to Grey's alpha-male ego.

"No Miss Steele. You do not have to. Not right now anyway, but I do believe it would benefit you. I want you to think about it. Okay?"

"Okay." She agreed, though she had no intention of actually doing so. She wanted more info about him. She did not want to give him any more info about her. "May I ask you a question, Sir?"

"It seems only fair, Miss Steele." Grey's response was stilted, formal. He did not want to answer questions, but Ana was not going to let him get away so easily this time.

"Why…why are you helping me? You said you had your reasons. But…what are they? You're rich – you could…go to the police- have them take care of this- put a stop to the entire thing once and for all. Why don't you?"

"There are things you don't understand, Miss Steele." Grey adopted a condescending tone with his non-answer. It made Ana bristle.

"Then why don't you help me to understand?" She challenged. He turned back to her and quirked an eyebrow.

"There's that sass of yours, Miss Steele." He admonished. He was still avoiding her questions. She let herself blush and broke eye contact.

"I just meant….I might be able to help – like –I could even tell the cops myself that you helped me – and that-"

"You will not. You cannot, Anastasia. This is bigger than your or I. I cannot change the world Anastasia, I can only do what little I do without being discovered. You will be safe, but there are others I have to think about – their safety, as well as yours, hinges on my ability to remain undetected. Tell me you understand." There was an edge to Grey's voice, almost as though it was tinged with fear. Ana didn't understand.

"But why. You're rich, and powerful, and smart. Why are you so scared? How did you get involved with these people in the first place?" She pressed. Grey sighed long and loud in response before pinching the bridge of his nose, Ana recognized his frustration. He did not like being pressed any more than he liked difficult questions. His patience with her obstinacy was wearing thin but she didn't care.

"This isn't some cartel, or secret society, Anastasia, it won't be so easily destroyed. This is an Empire. And my father is the Emperor." Grey's voice was hard, cold, and angry. His body was tense and his jaw set. He did not like this topic of conversation. But this was the first time Ana had been able to get any solid intelligence out of him and she wasn't about to let up now.

"You're….father? What do you mean? How deep does this go? How could one man build something like this? Is he Mafia? Are YOU mafia?" She made herself sound equal parts awed and frightened, hoping it would mask her excitement at this new revelation. She knew there was a ringleader to this operation, she would never have dreamed she would be able to get this close to him, to have his son as an ally. Grey didn't think that the police would help, and he was right – but she was not police. And when she got back to her base she would have the resources to bring these monsters down. Grey stood up from the sofa where he'd been sitting so close to her before

"I don't want to talk about this now." He declared, pacing away from her and out of the living room. She stood and followed after him. She was losing him and she need to reel him back in.

"Wait! Please- I just want to understand!" She caught up to him, reaching out to grab him by the arm. He jerked away from her touch immediately, spinning around on her and catching her by the wrist in a bruising grip – his reflexes were amazing. She attempted to pull away, but he held firm, pulling her closer to his body suddenly and without warning. his grey eyes were flashing, menacing. Ana let herself whimper, lowering her gaze and keening pitifully.

"I-I'm sorry Sir!" She let herself squeak, biting back her anger at being manhandled by the billionaire. He released her almost as immediately as he had grabbed her, regret crossing his features.

"I'm sorry Anastasia. I should not have…" He cut himself off and looked away from her, his shoulders slumping. "I should not have touched you like that, are you alright?" He kept his tone deliberate, not looking her in the eye. He was still tense.

"Y-You said you would answer my questions…I was only trying to…' Ana deliberately trailed off as if lost in thought, prodding him to answer her.

"You are right. I did say that. You did nothing wrong Anastasia, I did. And I sincerely apologize. " He still wasn't looking at her. "Are you alright?" He asked again. There was shame in his voice

"Are you angry with me, Sir?" She asked. She knew he wasn't. She was deliberately not answering his question He was easier to read than she'd initially suspected.

"No, Anastasia. I am sorry if I frightened you. These topics are not easy for me to discuss. I reacted poorly." Grey was regaining control over his emotions, closing himself back up. Hiding the raw, frightened, overly emotional animal that lay beneath the cool and collected surface.

"Please." She kept her voice breathy, an almost desperate quality to it. "I want to understand you. My life is in your hands and I still don't know why you are helping me."

"You wanted to know why I do not go to the police. But the police cannot help, no one can. The people involved are too smart, too rich, too powerful, and too well-connected. I was born into this life, Anastasia. This….fucked up world is all I've ever known. There is no way out, not for me. My father is Carrick Grey, he is the most powerful business attorney in the Pacific Northwest, he is the reason I am who I am, and he is the fucked-up visionary who created this cheery little hell…." Grey paused, looking at her directly again. He was making a determination, Ana bit her lip averting her gaze. He let out a long, pained sigh. He'd made a decision.

"Come with me, Anastasia. I want to show you something."