Authors note: To the guest reviewer who wrote, "It'd be cheaper to have her killed", thank you! Don't think I didn't think about going that route! Thanks to you all for the reviews, I try to respond to each one but if you're a 'guest', I can't so thank you as well. Another guest was upset that CG seemed gullible and stupid because he's dealing with Elena at all. I see your point, (I'd respond privately but you were a guest so I can't) but you have to remember that he was molested by a pedophile. That fucks with your head for years and years and he's just now starting to work that out. He'll come around, this story is mainly about his journey to wellness, but that process has just started for him. Trust me, no child molester is going to come out on top in one of my stories.

APOV

On Wednesday Christian is gone by the time I wake for the day. It's strange, being in his room without him. He's so…him. Larger than life, domineering, controlling, alpha male. Nothing about Christian Grey speaks to weakness or vulnerability in his day to day life but with me, he's different. I see him without the veneer of CEO and get to enjoy the man behind the myth. I am one lucky girl.

Rolling out of bed I'm reminded of where he's been as the remnants of last night run down my leg. Of all the talks I've had with Kate over the years about sex, she never once mentioned how messy it can be. I really need a day of no sex. Much as it pains me, and I mean that literally, I need to let myself recover. He's been inside of me as often as I'll let him and the man is not small. The problem is twofold. One, any sort of rejection from me causes him to immediately self-loathe and my entire agenda right now is to build him up. Two, it just feels so damn good that I can't make him stop because I myself don't want to stop.

After I use his body wash in the shower and his razor on my legs and underarms, I lotion up and head out to the kitchen where Gail has made me breakfast and coffee.

"Good morning, Ms. Steele."

"Gail, please call me Ana. It makes me so uncomfortable when you call me Ms. Steele. I'll tell Christian that I asked you myself, just please, please call me Ana." She grins and lays a plate of waffles in front of me.

"OK, Ana. Mr. Grey told me to tell you that Ryan would be driving you to work and to your class. Also, I'm going grocery shopping later today, is there anything specific you'd like me to have in the house for you?"

Her kindness and acceptance of my presence touches me and after the tenderness she showed to me after the Hyde attack I look at her as more than a 'house manager' as Christian calls her. I'd like to ask her about the other girls and get as many details as I can about his former life but I know that would be asking too much of her. I bet he made her sign an NDA anyway.

"That's really sweet of you but it's not necessary. I have to be honest, it's hard for me to have you wait on me. As much as I enjoy your cooking, and I do, a lot, it's tough for me to feel like I'm not taking advantage of you." She gives me a smile as she washes the waffle iron.

"You're sweet. This is my job, it's what I love doing and I take pride in doing it well." She's contemplative so I take a bite of my waffle, silently willing her to keep speaking. "Mr. Grey is a wonderful man, thoughtful, honest, driven. I've always enjoyed working for him, he's always been appreciative and never abusive but he's been so isolated. Since he's met you, he's…different. It's been a joy to watch and it thrills me to be a part of it. I like taking care of him and I like taking care of you."

All I can do is smile. Different since he met me.

"Thank you, Gail. You do a very good job of it."

Ryan isn't so easy when it comes to what he's willing to call me.

"Ms. Steele, Mr. Grey was very specific that we are to address you by last name only." And that was that.

We drive in and park in the underground garage, pulling into one of the spots reserved for "CTG". There is still a crowd of paparazzi out front but the GEH building is a virtual fortress, much like Escala and I feel much safer here than in my own office building. I'd been able to keep my mind busy last night and even this morning but the minute I see the cameras, my thoughts immediately begin to recite the ugly things I read about myself yesterday.

Andrea greets me when I get off the elevator, raising her eyebrows at Jacqueline when she fails to do the same. Whatever, bitch. I can still feel him between my legs. I bet she left one of those comments. I know all I need to do is mention to Christian that she irks me and he'd fire her right away. The thought puts a little skip in my step as I head down the hall to my office.

"Good morning, Anastasia Steele."

"Oh my god, do you know how hard it was to get through to you? I called your office but some girl named Courtney answered and would only put me through to Missy once I gave my blood type and promised her my first born child." I laugh at my friend Lisa's dramatics. She's a good friend and always good for a laugh with her over the top explanation of everything.

"Sorry, I had to have my business calls routed though the GEH switchboard because of the crazy amount of calls I was getting and I had to change my cell number. The only calls that come through are the ones that have been vetted by security here, I'll make sure you get on the list."

"Missy told me. She also told me that it took her an hour to get past the media this morning. I'd say I hope it's worth it but I've seen pictures of him and holy mother of god is it worth it! Please tell me you're doing it with him."

"Lisa, you are too much! Are you going to Jose's show tomorrow night? We can catch up and you can meet Christian then."

"I am! Oh I'm so excited! I was going to introduce myself when I saw him yesterday but he had some security guy with him and I figured it wasn't a good day to get shot so I stayed back."

"You saw him yesterday?"

"Yea, he was leaving a salon of all places. Esclava, the expensive one on the north end of the city."

Esclava? Elena's salon? I quickly run over the conversations we had and not once did he mention seeing her or even going to the salon. I know he didn't get a haircut, maybe he got a manicure? I make a mental note to check today.

"Right, I know it. I hear the owners a real bitch."

"Wouldn't know, I can't afford to walk in the door let alone get anything done. I'll let you get back to work, I just wanted to reach out and see what was going on. I'll see you tomorrow, Steele."

She's hung up before I can say goodbye but that's because I'm still stuck on why he didn't tell me about going to Esclava. I can't dwell on it too much since I've got three calls this morning and a shit ton of paperwork so I get right down to it and forget all about Elena for now.

"Hey baby." I'd know that voice anywhere and smile before I even look up to find him standing in my doorway, looking all hot in a disheveled CEO, I run the world kind of way. "Hungry?"

I just smile, stand and grab my bag but Christian meets me halfway, taking the bag from my hand and tipping me back to kiss me. Instinctively I grab at the lapels of his suit jacket, saddened by his tense reaction.

"Are we going to our restaurant?" I choose to ignore the pang in my heart at his physical rejection of my touch. One day.

"Yes. I've got an appointment in a bit across town so I ordered for us already. I hope you like salmon."

When we sit down the first thing I look at are his fingers. Truthfully I have no idea what I'm looking for so I skip my covert mission and just come right out and ask him about his manicures.

"Who does your manicures? And who cuts your hair? Do you ever go clothes shopping? Did you have a decorator or did you choose everything in your apartment?"

"Whoa, whoa! What in the hell is going on?" he laughs. I shrug and grab the hand he's laid palm side up on the table. The women at the table next to us are glaring at me so I trace his palm with my fingernail to rile him up a bit. It works. "Ana. It's been over 12 hours, keep that up and I'll take you right here."

"Actually, I wanted to talk about that with you. I'm sore, like, it hurts to sit here sore. I need to take a day." He looks positively crestfallen and grips my hand pulling me closer to him across the table.

"Anastasia. I can't. You can't ask me to abstain from touching you, I can't." He's serious, I can see the line of his brow as the panic rises in him and while it makes me feel wanted, it also makes me want to laugh. We're talking about a few more hours, not a week. But, if I've learned one thing about Christian, it's that sex to him, at least with me, is a conversation, a connection that he sees as vital. Maybe if I appeal to his protective side this will go over a bit more smoothly.

"Christian, I'm hurting. You're not exactly small." He grins lewdly at me and takes a sip of wine.

"And you're not exactly big." Cue the blush. "One day, Ana. Any longer than that and I'll go crazy. I waited too long to have you to take a break already." His hand runs through those fuckable copper locks and tugs. "Fuck, I'm going crazy now and it's been 13 hours. I mean it, today, that's it."

"OK, OK. Geesh. So anyway, back to my questions." One roll of the eyes later he answers.

"Franco, Franco, no and I hired a decorator but made the final decisions."

"Who's Franco? Where does he work?"

"Franco works at Esclava but he comes to the apartment every other week, usually before I leave for the office. Why?"

"I just can't picture you in a salon but obviously you're well groomed, I just wondered how. And how do you get your clothes?" So Franco comes to the apartment, he doesn't go to the salon for manicures. Or did he yesterday since I've been staying over?

"I have a personal shopper at Neiman Marcus. Carolyn Acton, and actually, she'll be contacting you shortly to set up a day to come in and get some things. You'll also get to meet Franco when he comes on Monday morning." Well that answers that.

"Clothes? For me?" He laughs, throws back the rest of his wine and shakes his head.

"Yes, of course for you."

"Why? Do you not like what I have?" Suddenly I feel very small and dowdy even though I'm dressed in a $900 grey Hugo Boss pantsuit.

"I love the way you dress. Even in a pantsuit you look sexy as fuck with that perfect apple ass of yours though now I'm guessing that a pantsuit was a deliberate choice on your part." I nod and smile, he's too smart for his own good. "I have a lot of business dinners and events that I have to go to and I want you to come along as often as you can. I thought it'd be nice for you to go on a shopping spree. Don't all women want that?"

He truly looks confused. It makes sense though, he's richer than god and has only ever been with women who were after something. From the little he's told me of his subs, they all were given an allowance and a car along with occasional gifts and clothing depending on how long they were around. I know he gives Mia money every month and from what I can tell, he's very generous with his close staff as well. I remember reading an article in a magazine at the doctor's office over the winter about 'love languages' and gift giving and receiving was one of them. I wonder if that's how he's shown his affection in the past since verbal and physical affection were never an option.

"I'm in the minority of women who find shopping to be boring and tedious. I love a good pair of shoes and I do like to wear nice things but the act of shopping bores me to tears. And to be quite honest with you, Christian, you buying me clothes makes me a bit uncomfortable. We just started dating."

When he fidgets in his seat I feel terrible and when he drops my hand and pulls back a bit I feel like an ass. This is how he shows his feelings and I just told him I'm not comfortable with it. Fix this Steele!

"Baby, I'll meet with Caroline Acton, I'll let her measure me and get a list of my likes and dislikes and then we can handle it like you did with the designer. She can email you her picks and you can choose what you like. Problem solved?" Oh please don't let this hurt him. I see the idea roll around before he decides that it's acceptable.

"You called me baby." He gives me that patented Christian Grey full watt smile. Damn, there go my panties. "Yes, we can work the clothes like you just said. Now eat up, I can't be late for my meeting and I want to walk you back so those pariah fuckers don't get too close."

At 5p Ryan comes to collect me so that he can drive me to my Pilates class. I'm actually nervous, afraid of what I'll walk into. The press has of course figured out what studio I teach at and has been camping out front for three days according to Jared, the guy who owns the studio. When we park Ryan has to shove his door open so that we can get out and he grabs my hand, tucking me into his suit jacket to usher me inside. I'm stunned, literally shocked to see a hand gun strapped to his waist.

"You have a gun?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be waiting here for you, the building was secured a few minutes ago. Prescott will be in the room with you, I'll be guarding this door here." I nod and walk into my class, hugging the students that know about the attack and have been here long enough to be considered acquaintances of mine. He's moved us to the back room so that the paparazzi can't take any pictures of me or the class. When the last student leaves, Jared approaches me, kissing both cheeks before issuing his standard, 'Namaste'.

"Anastasia, I'm glad you decided to come back."

"Me too but I'm not sure it's going to work. Look outside, I can't do this to you." Jared throws his head back and laughs, grabbing me by the elbow and steering me to his office.

"Ana, I had to hire a temp just to field the phone calls looking to get into your class. A Jason Taylor and I have been in contact since Monday afternoon reviewing applicants and running back ground checks. You're the best thing to happen to business since the invention of the yoga mat! Speaking of business, have you decided on the photos yet? The website is almost ready to launch but I really want some fresh pictures on it."

"I have thought about it and I think it'd be fun but it brings me back to this bullshit." I say to him pointing at the crowd of people at the door. "Do you really want this? Pictures of me on the website are only going to make it worse."

"Listen, you're one of the best instructors here, you have the perfect Pilates body and you're beautiful. I want you to do the pictures but if you're not up for it, I understand." I want to do them, Jared has always been so helpful and kind to me and this would be a way to say thank you to him.

"OK, I'll do it. When?"

"I'll set something up for Sunday after class if you're available. It'll take a few hours so figure 5 to about 10? Does that work?"

"Yes, as long as you promise me that if you change your mind you'll tell me."

"I promise and I promise I won't be changing my mind." With a final 'Namaste' he walks me to the door and kisses me goodbye on both cheeks as the cameras click away. Losers.

The dojo that I'll be taking Krav Maga lessons at is only three blocks away. Originally I thought we'd walk but I now realize that that is impossible with the security issues at hand. I can't believe this is my life.

Eyal Yael is one of the top Krav Maga instructors in the United States. I'd heard about him when I first moved to Seattle but getting into a class with him is next to impossible since the wait list is three years long. Christian has somehow managed to get me two lessons a week for an hour each. Privately.

"When was the last time you practiced and with whom?"

"Three years ago at a dojo in Vancouver with an expert two."

"I don't want to know your current level yet, I want to see what you can do and then we'll go from there. On the mat, let's begin."

I know he's going easy on me, he's an expert five and in far better shape than I am. I'm surprised at how quickly the moves and drills return to me, it's much like riding a bike, albeit a painful one. Over and over again I find myself on the mat or in a position that allows for no movement, a visceral reminder of how I froze during the attack on me.

"Ana! Focus!" but I can't as he grabs me by my neck again and forces me to my knees. I'm fighting tears with all I've got, trying to channel those fearful and shameful emotions into anger but I can't and I sit in a heap on the mat with my arms crossed around my shins.

"I'm sorry." I whisper to both Eyal and Ryan who's now crouching next to me and looking me over for bruises. "I'm not hurt, I just…I just…"

"You were victimized. You haven't dealt with it yet. You need to or this is all for nothing." Eyal widens his arms and orders me to stand. "We will deal with it now. You will be prepared. Tell me what happened."

I shake my head, terror consuming me as I try in vain to stop the images and the sound of Hyde's voice from overtaking me. "I can't."

"You must!"

"Ms. Steele, the car is waiting out front." I look quickly at the clock on the wall. I've only been here 40 minutes but I'm at my limit. I take Ryan's outstretched hand and pull myself up, turning to Eyal who eyes me with remonstrance, challenging me to continue. I can't and it shames me.

"You will come back on Friday afternoon and you will finish your hour. You will, each lesson, tell me everything that happened over and over until you can say it and not react to it. You will work through it and you will overcome it. Be prepared."

CPOV

"What did you find out?" I've ordered Welch to the Escala gym so that he can brief me in private on the many security issues I'm dealing with right now.

"Well, the account is a personal one, it's not tied to a business but oddly enough, it's not in her name. It's under the name of Magdalena Corsica. I thought maybe Elena was a nickname so we pulled her other accounts and her birth certificate and her name is just Elena. The social security numbers are different so we started there. A Magdalena Corsica was born in 1974 and died in 1975 in Toledo Ohio. Before you ask, there are no ties whatsoever to her and Elena."

"So she's using someone else's social number? Surely that's a crime."

"It is but it's easy enough to get parole and nothing else. If you really want to nail her, you're going to need more than that and what we've got now," he pauses and raises his eyes at me, "isn't enough."

"Welch, cut the shit. What else were you able to find? Where are we on everything else?" I hear him take a deep breath and clear his throat. Six am or not, I pay him enough to be available 24/7 so he needs to wake the fuck up right now.

"Interestingly, the account has six million in it, just sitting there accruing interest. There are a number of hundred thousand dollar deposits over the last few years and a number of deposits for 25 thousand. In between there are hundreds of deposits ranging from one thousand to ten thousand dollars. All of them in cash."

"Do you have the dates of the larger deposits? The hundred and twenty five thousand dollar ones?"

"I've got every line of activity since she opened it eight years ago."

"Is there any way to trace the deposits?"

"No, they were all done in cash at the Bank of America branch in Walla Walla. What's really suspect is that any cash deposit over $10k in the US requires a report to be filed with the Federal Government called a CTA. I checked, not one report has been filed on Elena or on Magdalena."

"Send me over what you've got as soon as you get in, I'll let you know if I require anything more." He breathes a sigh of relief and drops the weight with a loud clang. My call to Tony Lain goes unanswered and straight to voice mail. I would not want to be him when he wakes up to my message.

Burt Whalen has cancelled the loan rescind without asking why. If he had he'd be out of a job so apparently the man wised up overnight. On my way to my breakfast meeting I check on the status of the online articles being written about Ana and I'm pissed to see that not only have they not stopped, they've multiplied. Every person that ever had any interaction with her is coming out of the woodwork to talk about her. Most of the 'friends' they've interviewed have only good things to say but there are two, from men no less, that insinuate that they were previous relationships of hers. Fury boils in my veins and I forward the names, 'Alex' and 'Ryan' over to Welch to track down.

During breakfast I see Tony call, no doubt in the middle of an apoplexy at having not answered my call but I let him go to voice mail.

I have little interest in the shipyard we're purchasing in Panama, it's merely a staging area for our cross Atlantic trading route but I listen nonetheless as the man and woman across from me blather on about it but my mind is still in bed with Ana. Apparently so is my dick because I keep thinking back to yesterdays wake up call, pissed that I have to waste my time on these fuckers instead of getting my girl off. I find little else as satisfying as her face when I take her to climax. Damn.

Back in the car I'm antsy to get back to GEH since I know Anastasia is there. On my phone is the text she sent with her daily affirmation as she calls it.

You make me laugh.

I snort, startling Taylor in the front. I make her laugh.

-I make you laugh? So you find me funny?-

Yes! All of the time!

-Funny haha or funny weird?-

A little of both. Mostly haha though.

-You won't be laughing tonight, baby. I've got plans for that mouth-

"Mr. Grey, I'm sorry that I was unavailable when you called earlier. I'm assuming that you called about Mrs. Lincoln so I've brought the documents along with me for you to look over."

"You assumed correctly. I need something to put her in jail on. Legit crimes." He looks chagrined but bravely pushes on.

"So far there is nothing. Her books weren't done well, there were quite a few adjustments that I needed to make but nothing that warranted any real action. Certainly nothing as far as her tax returns go. I never did get her personal returns or her portfolios but I did manage to get ahold of the 1099's from her investments for the last four years. Nothing suspect there either."

"Fuck! What do you recommend then?"

"Well, I'm not finished, I've got two years left but my recommendation is to do nothing. She should hire a new bookkeeper who's better at organization but outside of that, the books are clean, she even reported her cash income."

"Keep looking. I want a report on Friday morning, 9am, no later."

When he leaves my office I punch the desk and stand to go to Ana. She's been on a call since I got here but I don't want to wait any longer to see her.

"Andrea, let me know the minute Ms. Steele if finished with her call."

"Yes, sir."

Walking to the window I look down at the street below and watch as my employees enter and exit the building, a steady stream of people dependent on my choices and my decisions to keep them in a job so that they can feed their families and put a roof over their head. It's a heavy responsibility and not one I take lightly. If those pictures were to come out or if Elena somehow injects my name and lifestyle into the gossip rags, close to 40,000 people could be out of a job in a matter of weeks. If this Agnes Perkins bull shit turns out to be an issue, the same result could occur. The pressure is incredible.

I need Anastasia, need her, not want her, need her. I can tell her about the things that I've done but hearing about something and seeing it are two very different things. She absolutely cannot see those pictures, I can't risk her leaving me.

Andrea buzzes in that she's off the phone and I go to her, stopping in the doorway to drink in the sight of her. She's reading something in front of her, her hand holding a pen, poised to write something down. That bottom lip of hers is trapped in her teeth, a habit of hers I find indecently erotic.

When I kiss her she grabs at my chest and I react to the unexpected touch, tensing and pulling back instinctively. I can see the hurt in her eyes before she blinks and forces it away. I'm working on it, baby.

My manicures? Only Ana would ask such a question. My good humor is quickly replaced by my raging libido when she traces my hand with her finger, each stroke registering in my groin. My libido is quickly replaced by panic though when she informs me that she can't, or more accurately, won't, have sex for the rest of the day. Not possible, I need her!

As she speaks I listen and feel a pang of guilt. I saw her face when I entered her in the middle of the night. I could see then the wince but I kept going, needing to feel her around me too much. It didn't matter to me that I'd already fucked her three times before or that she had been sleeping, I wanted her. I'm a fucking animal, it's a wonder she's sitting here talking to me at all. I can do a day, the last thing I want to do is push her away from me.

When she informs me that she doesn't like shopping I'm unsure how to respond. I've never met a woman who didn't take from me all that she could except my mother and Mia. It bothers me that I've purchased anything for any woman other than Anastasia and I want to make that up to her. Watching her though, seeing her attempt to navigate this mine field I've made for her is a revelation. She wants nothing to do with the trappings of my wealth. It makes me want to give her everything.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, an endless and mindless parade of meetings, conference calls and excel sheets. Neither Ros nor I have heard anything from the SEC and the auditors working on the Perkins files have found nothing of consequence yet. I have Andrea connect me to my fathers office, if anything I can be proactive in gathering information.

"Dad, a minute?"

"Sure, what do you need, Christian?"

"I haven't heard anything from the SEC, the FBI the IRS, nobody. What's your latest information?"

"There isn't any. You most likely won't hear from them until Mr. James's arrest. Once that happens they'll show up within hours. Outside of that, you just need to focus on seeing what you can find out first and doing what you can to help out the investigation should it come down to it."

"Alright. I've removed the loan modification for Elena, there's no need to think about loaning her anything." It's a half lie, I've only temporarily held it so that I can play this out with her on Friday. If Elena Lincoln thinks she's going to blackmail me and then use my parents as leverage, she's got another thing coming.

"I'm glad to hear it son, whatever happens business wise, she and your mother have been friends for a long time, I'd hate for there to be tension between them." He may as well punch me in the gut.

"Right. If you hear any movement on the James issue, please call me right away and let me know." I need to get off the phone, I can't take one more second of listening to him talk about Elena.

"Wow. So you had sex, in your bed, without restraints and then you slept with her in the bed?"

"And slept well. No nightmares, not even one. Slept through the night and then spent the entire day with her just hanging out."

"I don't know what to say for once. This is great, Christian!" It is, I know it is but I still feel a real sense of panic when I think about where my life is heading no matter how much I'm enjoying my time with Anastasia. Flynn focuses in on the issue of the day, quickly ingesting my words and spitting them back at me in an organized, coherent manner.

"Your anxiety about the direction your relationship with Anastasia is taking is because you feel out of control. Love does that to you, it mixes you up, rearranges your priorities and shifts the earth beneath your feet. You have always strived to be in control of every aspect of your life but love means giving up a significant amount of that control and trusting someone else with your fears and your insecurities."

Insecurities? Please, I'm a fucking billionaire with a face that gets me whatever I want. What insecurities?

"You've spent years, your entire life really, building walls and keeping people out of your life." I snort and sit back, running my hands through my hair and laughing.

"Yea, and in four minutes she walked right through them and took over. Now what?"

"You keep letting her do whatever it is that she's doing. In the short amount of time you've known her she's done more for you than any amount of therapy has. Give yourself to her, not just your sexual prowess but your trust, your loyalty, even your insecurities. Tell her how you feel, what you want from her. You can't control another human being, especially a woman despite your previous relationships."

When I tell him about the latest with Elena he sits back contemplatively and remains quiet long after I've finished speaking.

"Are you more concerned about the pictures reaching the public, your family, or Anastasia?"

"All three equally but if I'm honest, more Ana than anybody else. I can live without the company, I can accept that my family will always love me even if they hate what I've done but I cannot live without Ana."

"Have you considered telling them, your family and Ana about the photos so that they're useless as emotional blackmail?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? Absolutely not. You have no idea what's on them. They're proof of my sadism, my darkness, right there in black and white for anyone to see."

"Are you still calling yourself a sadist after seeing one in action?" He's right, after seeing Hyde abuse those women I know I'm not a true sadist but I still got off on another's pain. I still have to remind myself, hourly sometimes, that Ana isn't a sub that I can boss around and spank. Spanking Anastasia, I can only hope that one day she lets me.

"No, I'm not like him but it doesn't change the images on those photos. Me, fucking multiple women at once, gagging them, hitting them, forcefully fucking their mouths while suspending them from the ceiling. It doesn't matter that they wanted it or that they enjoyed it, all that matters is that the pictures speak to a darkness that she could never understand. I can't risk Ana ever seeing them." My voice drops to a whisper, "She'd never want to see me again. I'll pay any amount of money to keep them from her, ten million is nothing."

"And do you really think that paying Elena off is going to get her out of your life for good?" And therein lies my problem. I know it won't. I want to destroy her, watch her wilt and wither and die in front of me but I still see how she helped me and as much as I hate her, I feel beholden to her on some level. It was she who stopped my drug use, she who stopped my drinking and fighting, she who taught me all about self control and the merits of being self reliant. Elena taught me how to be touched, how to find physical release with another person without having a panic attack. For fucks sake she lent me the money to start GEH. I hate myself for it but I feel an obligation to her even though I hate her. Flynn calls it Stockholm Syndrome, I call it reality.

Hourly I find myself debating on paying her off and wanting her arrested and thrown in jail. I can't help but wonder where I'd be if she hadn't stepped in when she did and I hate myself for it. Even so, my temper takes over when he starts throwing the words molestation, manipulation, abuse, and pedophile around. He just doesn't get it.

"Enough, John. You never seem to acknowledge the fact that I'd be dead had she not come along." Am I really defending this woman? Am I that fucked up?

"Not true, Christian. You would have been given an opportunity to find coping mechanisms that worked for you that weren't destructive and built on lies and coercion."

"For fucks sake, let it go!" I cut him off and launch into the larger issue at GEH. The Agnes Perkins issue and the multi-billion dollar acquisition we're working on with the Chinese that could nearly double my company and my international influence.

"I'll play along and talk about work but not until I say this. Until you accept what was done to you, not only by the pimp and your mother but also by Elena, you will always struggle. Ana can bring you calm and comfort and she can center you but she can't be your only coping mechanism. Imagine what that would do to her eventually. You have to deal with your victimization head on, Christian. Until you do, you're a sinking ship."

Just as I cut into my steak I see Taylor make his way over to me and I'm immediately distracted. The gentlemen I'm having dinner with, business associates I deem worth my time, fall quiet. He leans down into my ear.

"Sir, an issue with Ms. Steele, she's fine." He adds the last part quickly so that I don't freak the fuck out. I throw my napkin on the table and rise, buttoning my suit jacket and making eye contact with all four men.

"Gentlemen, I need to attend to something. Excuse my haste." I don't wait for their replies but charge out to the waiting car. The second the door shuts Taylor drives and fills me in.

"Ryan called a few minutes ago, at her Krav lesson she kept stopping, he described her as becoming unfocused, almost as if she were in a daze. At the 40 minute mark she fell to the ground shaking and refused to continue. He had to carry her to the car, fortunately there were no paps around. He's got her enroute to her apartment now but thought you should know."

"Drive faster for fucks sake then! What the fuck did he do to her?" I'm dialing Ryan but Prescott answers.

"Sir, Prescott. Ryan is driving."

"What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure, sir. She was being assessed, working on moves and defense positions but after a few minutes she kept falling to the ground, each time it was harder to get her to respond until she sat, balled herself up and stopped talking. The instructor was demanding that she tell him what happened to her and she tried but she couldn't."

"Why the fuck would he do that? Asshole, fucking damn piece of shit asshole. Put her on the phone."

"Christian?" She sounds so small and timid. I make a mental note to get her in to see Flynn.

"Baby, I'm on my way. You're going to be alright, I'll be right there."

"OK." The phone hangs up but we're a minute away so I refrain from calling back. Taylor and I arrive before she does and I wait outside where her car will be parked, whipping open her door the second it stops.

Her arms just reach up and I pick her up and carry her inside as Prescott deals with the elevator, door and alarm. "Order us dinner, something quick. Leave it on the table and give us the apartment." I need to get her to bed, my sexual appetite has kept her up late, woken her up in the middle of the night and woken her up early. Fucking animal. She had to fucking tell you to give her a break you piece of shit!

"Ana, do you want to tell me what happened?" I'm keeping my voice low and gentle as I strip her and let her hair out of its ponytail. Her eyes are downcast and she shrugs in my arms as I carry her to the tub. Once it's filled enough she gets in, wincing when she sits. Animal!

"I don't know. I froze. Again. He kept coming at me, trying to get me to fight and I just couldn't, it's almost as if I wanted him to hit me. I was a G2 blue belt when I stopped three years ago but after 20 minutes I couldn't remember a basic stance." She's got her legs drawn up against her chest, her arms wrapped around her shins and she turns to me, those piercing green eyes blank and wide. "I couldn't do it."

I am going to kill that mother fucker Hyde but before I kill him, I'm going to flay Steven Morton and Carla Adams. THEY are the reason she's like this and they will answer for it.

"Shhh, I'm here now. You need to rest, Ana and you need to talk to someone about this." I've thrown my shirt and shoes in a pile on the floor and am pouring water over her hair, dragging my fingers down her back to relax her. "I'd like for you to go see Dr. Flynn, will you do that for me?"

"No. I want to see a woman." My hands pause, a sick feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

"Why?" She closes her eyes and sighs before resting her chin on her knees as I begin to shampoo her hair.

"Because a man can't possibly know what it's like to have someone stick their hands up your skirt, rip your panties off and try to shove their fingers in you." Silent tears roll down her cheeks and I watch as one slides down her knee, down her thigh and into the water. How many tears has she cried alone?

"Did he touch you like that, Ana?" I'm going to be sick.

"Almost." She whispers. "His hand did but Sawyer came just as he was going to use his…fingers." she rushes it out and covers her face. "I don't want to talk anymore. Not about anything."

I couldn't speak if I wanted to. More than anger, more than hatred, more than justice, I'm hurt, deeply hurt that this woman, this strong, independent, loving, funny, caring, kind woman is sitting in a bathtub crying about being victimized yet again. My words from earlier hit me like a ton of bricks and lodge themselves in my throat, strangling me.

'You can't ask me to abstain from touching you, I can't'
'One day, Ana. Any longer than that and I'll go crazy'
'I'm going crazy now and it's been 13 hours. I mean it, today, that's it'

You fucking piece of shit asshole!

"Ana, I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so so sorry that he did that. I will make this right, somehow I will make sure he pays, I promise you. Look at me sweetheart, look at me." She turns slowly to me, the black of her mascara is all over her face, running in rivulets with her tears. "I will find him. He will never hurt you again. Nobody will. Ever."

I lather my hands with her body wash and gently, so gently I'm barely touching her, I wash her with my bare hands. I fight with every fiber of my being to not get turned on when I circle her breasts and glide down her shoulders and back but it's no use. When I reach down into the water she stops me and reaches for the body wash, squirting a bit on her hands and rising up a bit on her knees.

"I'll do it, I'm too sore." Fuck, as shitty as I feel about that, I can't stop the massive erection I get watching her rub herself under the water so I just press myself against the side of the tub and drain the water after I put conditioner in her hair. My teeth hurt from clenching my jaw so hard but she seems none the wiser.

"Here, stand up, I'll rinse you. She does as I say and I use the handheld to wash the suds off of her. Once she's out I pat her dry and lotion her from head to toe as she stands there and watches me. She looks sad.

"You've got two freckles on your shoulders, right here. Did you know that?" she smiles shyly and shakes her head. "And another right here on the side of your ankle." Walking over to her dresser I give her a look, I have no idea what she wants to wear but she can't stay naked that's for sure. I'm dying right now.

"Middle drawer, t-shirt. Top drawer, panties." She steps into the grey cotton underwear I picked out, I'm assuming it will be more comfortable than a thong and then puts the grey t-shirt over her head. It falls to her knees, a length I'm currenty grateful for.

"Come, let's eat and then you can go to bed."

"I'm not hungry, Christian."

"Ana," I stand in front of her and wrap my arms around her waist, drawing her close to me. "You need to eat. You barely touched your lunch, you taught a Pilates class and sparred for forty minutes. You're exhausted and emotional but you still need to eat before you go to bed. Come, I'll feed you."

That gets a giggle out of her, the sound of it immediately relaxing me. I want to tell her I love her, promise to always love her but I can't. I just…can't.

Prescott has put cheeseburgers and fries on plates on the table along with ice waters. Ana looks at me quizzically and I shrug, "I wasn't specific. Do you want me to have her get something else?"

"No, this is fine, it's just so unlike you."

"Why would you say that?" What the hell does that mean?

"You don't strike me as a burger and fries kinda guy."

"I love a good burger!" She has a way of making me feel like a man and a little kid all at once. I swirl a fry in ketchup and go to feed it to her but she shakes her head and walks to the fridge to get out mustard.

"Mustard? On fries? For someone who can cook so well, you have the strangest palate."

"You should see how I eat pizza, I swear people never want to order it with me again." I've got to know.

"What do you do to it?" she smiles and chews her burger before answering me.

"If I eat it with the cheese I put mustard on it first. Usually though, I eat the first bite with cheese and then scrape the cheese off."

"You, Anastasia Steele, are a strange bird." She laughs, really laughs, throws her head back and laughs and I feel like I could fly right now. I did that, I made her laugh and even though we're facing a mountain of bullshit right now, I feel like we can overcome anything so long as I can make her laugh and she can just…be.

After dinner we brush our teeth. Her bathroom is much smaller than mine but I want the intimacy of doing our routine together so we take turns spitting, grinning at each other like idiots. Once she's tucked under the covers I lay with her but instead of getting behind her like I always do, I face her. Immediately she rests her head on my outstretched arm and holds my other hand in hers.

"Thank you for taking care of me again." I kiss her forehead gently three times and tilt her chin up to look at me.

"Ana, I love taking care of you, now sleep sweet girl." I press my lips to her hair line and stay there until I feel the even rhythm of her breathing. She falls asleep faster than anyone I know. It's not even 10 yet but I couldn't sleep no matter what the time was.

He touched her. There. Violated her, embarrassed her, hurt her. My emotions vacillate between fury and sadness. I reach for my phone and text Taylor who I know is waiting in the apartments hallway.

-Tell RS friend, anything goes. I'm in for the night, we'll leave for GEH at 8:45-

Yes, sir.

She's so small and delicate from the messy wet bun on the top of her head to her tiny little feet tucked under the blue flowered comforter. The only thing big on Anastasia are her breasts and her long eyelashes. Everything else is tiny, smooth and feminine.

"I love you, Ana." I whisper, saying the words out loud for the first time. They sound strange coming out of my mouth. I remember saying that to my birth mother but she never responded. I've never said it since. Until now. "I love you. I will protect you and take care of you and love you as long as you let me."

I'm only in my boxers leaving my chest exposed. Can I do this? Slowly I untangle my hand from hers and flex her fingers, taking one and running it down my left pectoral muscle. It burns but leaves no mark. I do it again, willing the distress I feel to go away. Over and over I run her index finger down my chest until the burn is no more than a tingle and then with a deep breath I flatten her hand across my sternum, holding it there until I only feel the heat of her hand and not the torment of a burn. She is the first person in 25 years to touch me here and she'll be the last. This spot, right over my heart is hers and hers alone.

For an hour I hold her hand there, unmoving, hardly able to take my eyes off of the sight of it against my chest. When she moves as if to roll over I pull her close, holding her head against the skin of my chest as I wrap both arms around her and grip her tightly to me. Her answering sigh of contentment is the last sound I hear before falling asleep.