On the eve of my return from the graduation ceremony, my thumb hovered over Anastasia Steele's contact number that I'd obtained from her background check report.

Uncertain if I should call, in an impulsive moment, I pressed the green button, an unthinking smile on my face. It stayed put, until the bell rang, rang, and rang. Then as instinctively the smile had come, it snuck away, leaving behind a dark bitterness.

She didn't attend my call.

I frowned and sank down on the cushioned chair of my office in Escala, languidly pouring myself a stiff shot of whiskey from the crystal decanter.

A while later, I called again; no answer.

Lastly tried once more with no response.

Anger seething just below the surface, I chucked my Blackberry away after I erased the scathing text my mind was intent and fingers were itching to write.

Slowly gulping down the bitter golden liquid, I stared at the ceiling with unseeing eyes, my mind whirling, then swiftly drained my glass. My eyes inadvertently slid to my knuckles showing white at the bone. Loosening my hand, I slammed the glass on the polished wood of my office table.

What the fuck was I doing acting like a whiny bitch?

Why did she of all the women take me so lightly? Why wouldn't she pick up? Had she changed her mind regarding our dinner tomorrow or was she occupied with someone else? I felt my face harden with coldness.

I called another contact, desperately needing to get a grip on something remotely resembling control, by hook or crook.

"Brenda Calder speaking, Mr. Grey."

Drumming my fingers on the arm of the chair, as soon as the call was attended, without abiding by the conventional route of beginning a conversation, I directly charged.

"Tomorrow, I want you to be on Miss Steele's tail. I want to be aware of all her activities. Pay special attention to the people she'd surrounded herself with." I bid curtly.

"Done. I'll do it." Her response was equally to the point.

"Good. Text me. Every single little detail. Every information."

"You won't be disappointed."

"I hope not." I said before ending the call without pleasantries.

Now it felt an iota better.

I won't go ruining her day, I decided, though I'd like to know what she was up to. It was only fair after she refused to talk to me.

Next day the first text I received from Miss Calder was when I was on my way to GEH.

9:00; no activity outside her apartment except for a breakfast delivery and a wrapper filled with nondescript items. Sent by me.

The second time, I was with Ross, having a heated back and forth regarding the profit of the last year acquisitions.

10:00; she had exited her apartment, wearing a casual white tee and jeans.

10:20; in a grocery store, only bought tea, cookies, crisps, tomatoes, peanut butter, soya sauce and few other junk items, names unidentified. My brow slowly rose, the woman clearly loved those unhealthy foodstuff.

I was in a meeting with the CEO of a Korean industrialist who came with an interpreter, when I received the next text.

11:00; she's on her way back. The guy on the cash counter tried to flirt. Although she didn't encourage his advances, she was polite and giggled a few times. No numbers were exchanged between them.

Could a day not go by without her attracting attention?

11:30; she had safely reached home.

01:00; no activity.

04:00; no further activity.

05:00; Friends had arrived at her place. Three boys, three girls. Same age group.

At six o'clock in the evening, just as I'd arrived back to Escala from an eventful day at GEH, my Blackberry's bell shrilled in the quietness, indicating Miss Calder was calling.

I snatched up my phone, "Yes?"

"Mr. Grey, Miss Steele had just left her apartment with her friends. And they're all squeezed into one red Mercedes, which belongs to a Katherine Kavanagh. Miss Steele was sitting on a guy's lap, in the front." An icy clutch gripped my heart, my gut tightening.

"Your efforts are appreciated Miss Calder." I smiled tightly. As soon as the call was clicked shut, I hollered in the hallway for Taylor who was currently residing in his office.

"Get the car ready in twenty minutes," I ordered before turning over to my room.

As soon as I finished taking a quick bath, Taylor knocked on my bedroom door. Gaining my allowance, he creaked the door open, then cleared his throat behind my back, "Mr. Grey. The elder Mr. Grey had been seen parking outside Escala on the CCTV footage."

"Dad?"

Taylor shook his head, "Elliott."

"Shit!" That was what happened when one lost himself over-thinking a girl, "I forgot I'd promised him dinner today." I groaned and with a muttered curse, threw the damp towel on my white bedspread, as I attempted to dress myself, in a casual dark apparel, with black leather jacket and boots.

My phone chimed.

06:30; they've been stopped by the traffic police, all her friends seem to be a piece of work.

If I initially had any qualms against following her, this wiped it away neat and clean.

Elliot boisterous chatter echoed in the hallway as he greeted Taylor and Mrs Jones. Just before I could open my door to help myself out, he was stepping inside my room, grinning from ear to ear, looking like fresh sunshine with his wild strands of blond spread about his forehead.

"Hello baby brother!" He quipped as he right about bounced/sat at my bed.

"I see I don't need to tell you to feel at home. You're doing a pretty good job at your own."

He chuckled shamelessly, then pouted. "You wound me."

"Enough to cancel our dinner tonight?"

"Nah!"

"Damn!" My lips curled up in a curve. "How about a rain-check?"

He sat upright, his brow quirking in intrigue. "Why?"

"Really Lelliot? Do I ever bother you about your nocturnal plans?"

"Plans?" His eyes lit up. Shit. "You baby brother, have plans?"

"I might." I replied. And added as an afterthought, "Stop calling me baby brother."

"You do!" He grinned, "Tell me, Is it a date?"

"No!" My reply was a little too swift.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed if it's another man." A teasing lilt stepped into his voice.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Seriously? Are we having this conversation?"

"You know you'll always have my support." Elliot laughed. If there was one guy I'd failed to intimidate, it was him. Pffffttt.

Instantly, I felt a pounding in my head as I tried to remember the reasons why I couldn't kill Elliot. He was my brother. He was not annoying; he just simply loved me. Mom would never talk to me again if something happened to Elliot. I took a deep calming breath. Nope—couldn't kill him.

But could I possibly get rid of Elliott without him finding out about my whereabouts; I think not. Should I in the least try to get rid of him; why not?!

"Where are you going?"

I sighed, "Nowhere you should concern yourself with. I'd like a rain-check."

Taylor strode inside the room, "Sir your car is ready."

"Where is he going Taylor?" Elliot turned to Taylor.

Taylor didn't reply, just looked at us both, not knowing whom to listen to. His mouth opened twice, but then fortunately he remembered who his employer happened to be. He looked at Elliot apologetically before he shrugged his shoulders and veiled himself in silence.

Elliott stood upright. "Just what are you up to little brother?" Excitement shone in his gaze.

He had that curious look in his eyes that I was all too aware of.

"I'm going to meet a friend."

"You don't have a friend, in case you're ditching me for a piece of ass—both genders' asses applied—then it's a shame. Even I wouldn't stoop that low and I'm considered the man-whore here!"

I smirked, "Why do you presume I couldn't be a man-whore Elliott?"

"If you're a man-whore then I'd gladly cut and serve my hairy balls on a platter—that women adore and worship, if I might add."

"You're disgusting."

"For curiosity's sake, just how many women—or men—have had the pleasure of seeing my baby brother's hairy balls?"

I could kill him, mom would understand, right? "Enough to shut you up."

"Men?"

I scoffed, "Women."

He gasped at that, feigning to be scandalized. "That's it! I'm comin' with you!"

"No need to make dramatic gestures Lelliot."

"You're no fun."

I eyed his exuberant visage as the elevator to my penthouse dinged open. Elliott fell into step behind me, following me from the elevator to my car. Taylor opened the door to the SUV and I climbed in, taking out my Blackberry and checking it to see if there was any chance little Miss Steele had buzzed me back. Since I had been calling her for the last hour and had left several messages pointing out that it was Christian Grey, but nor had she picked up my call, neither did she reply back, not even once.

I was genuinely hoping to play nice with her all this time. It was irrational, my ardour, my anger, the feeling of betrayal. She might not be interested in me as much as I was in her. It was panic-inducing to even suggest that she might not want anything to do with me. Perhaps she'd changed her mind. She couldn't change her mind that easily, I decided, I won't let her.

When we reached the club that Brenda Calder had pointed out, though it was cold, there was a long line of sweaty people outside, just waiting for their chance to get in. First time in such a surrounding, I sat uncertain. I was a high profile man and couldn't be seen philandering in a club.

"Never pegged you one for clubs Christian." Elliott exclaimed, eagerness dripping from his every pore.

He searched something on my face as I just raised my eyebrow at him in my defence. I'd just have to keep a low profile inside this placement.

"Lelliot, shut your mouth before I feed you your own dick, and you don't want that, do you? How would you dig the ladies of Seattle then?"

For a moment, Elliot mocked horror at the prospect of having no dick. Figure that'd make him turn into a philosopher—his dick. Clearly he took it way too seriously.

"You wouldn't dare!" He growled playfully.

"Wouldn't I?"

"You know your way around a fair share of dicks, don't you?"

I gave him my death glare that he seemed immune to. He tsked, "We just met up, and the vein on your forehead is right about ready to pop."

Taylor came in the exact moment to rescue my older brother from me.

"Sir, you can go straight inside now. They've been paid and taken care of."

I nodded at Taylor as I exited the car, then moved towards the entrance of the club. As we passed by the queue of people, the air filled with whistles and hoots from an overtly enthusiastic group of girls. I sighed with frustration as Elliott blew them a kiss, "Ciao ladies!"

This was turning out to be a nightmare. One night with Elliott and my reputation would be down the drain.

We entered the club which was pretty packed already. My eyes roamed everywhere, trying to locate the vixen who had almost made a fool out of me. Not one skimpy looking girl caught my eye as my gaze wandered. They were all insignificant to my needs. My hands clenched and unclenched as my body felt ready to combust.

"Woah! Easy Christian!" Elliott placated verbally, knowing my aversion to touch. Curious concern etched on his face, as his gaze drew over my taut face.

People swarmed the place making it difficult to locate someone particular between the busybodies.

Suddenly a crown of thick mahogany tresses seized my eye. My heart thudded as my body hummed with pleasure in synchrony. I hadn't ascertained whether to approach her or not. Granted everything, I didn't want the wild cat to attempt to kick me in my ball sack for ruining her night, so for now I sat in a dark corner on the VIP tables.

Elliot didn't waste time to become one with the crowd when I refused to mingle. Must be doing something I probably wouldn't want to know about. So all there was left of my time was watching her, observing her.

There was a group that had been blocking me from having a full view of her, but as the crowd slowly dissipated, the image that I was bestowed with hit me full force, like a fucking locomotive.

The full view of her body from behind that I was presented with created mayhem and rebellion in my pants making various parts of my anatomy feel dubious. They were torn between being hard as a fucking rock, and blood boiling with rage all at the same time. She turned around to respond to some friend who had addressed her, and I was treated to a full frontal. Sweet...

Anastasia adorned something that, to my astonishment—as I was never bothered what anybody wore, except for Mia perhaps—I wouldn't allow her to be dressed in. I watched in awe mixed with fury, never before seen her in such an attire, as every other guy I flickered my gaze towards, clocked her with his own primitive desires.

What was it about her that always had men in shambles—myself included? Was she an idiot coming out of her house dressed thusly. The insolent girl—if not controlled by an iron fist—would soon start a riot in this place.

She stood with a few of her friends, laughing, throwing her head back, exposing the delicate column of her throat like a delectable temptation, completely oblivious to the attention she was acquiring by the male faction. Her perky voluptuous derrière bloomed down from her tiny waist, and encased in those shorts, she was simply begging to be disciplined.

Suddenly, some rock song came on and the crowd went wild, including Anastasia's friends. They tried to drag her with them. Looking carefree, she bounced on her feet with exuberance, enjoying herself, exuding liveliness. Her chortle held a childlike quality, reducing me to feel desolate, akin to a dirty fucker. How would she remember me when she had such a boisterous company, I mused darkly, why would she bother to attend my call.

One thing stood starkly clear, if nothing else, she was doing an excellent job of hurting my ego. And it was not a pretty sight when someone tried to step on it. It was unimportant to debate its intentionality, they always paid.

If I wanted to use her body I would damn well use it to my heart's content, I'd make sure she came to grips with this fact. It was her fault for turning me into some hyper-sexual maniac.

There was already a long list of things Anastasia Steele was going to pay for, and the list simply kept on extending.

If she hadn't been teasing and tempting me within an inch of my life the moment she had walked into my office, I wouldn't have been standing here acting like a man who had never before seen a woman in his life.

Giggling, Anastasia and her friends ran towards the middle of the dance floor, then started to dance and grind provocatively over each other, making all the men in the near vicinity go wild. I saw red but tried to rein myself in.

How fucking dare she not attend a single one of my multiple calls earlier, though now she seemed to have time enough to dance with these low-lives, bestowing them with her attention.

Slowly the cat-calling boys surrounded them, attempting to join in. I never imagined her to have that fun wild side to her. Yes, that list just kept on growing.

I gaped at her when they started doing shots off of each other bodies and this made the crowd of men go absolutely bonkers—once again.

Her friends urged her on as she licked salt off of the neck of some redhead before she bravely downed a shot. The casual shrug that followed before she drew forward to take a lemon wedge some guy had placed between his lips, left me in the cold.

It was then that something outrageous happened. One minute she was attempting to scuffle the wedge away from his mouth, next he was taking full advantage of it as he planted his mouth over hers. She didn't promptly push him back like she should have. Not soon enough to save the guy—and herself—from my ire.

War raged inside me, violence teetering on the edge of my patience.

I was on my feet before I knew it. Elliott, from whichever corner he was leaning against, seeing me standing unexpectedly, jumped to my side and followed my rapidly quickening steps with his.

She seriously asked for this. She should be ready for the consequences now.

I was right about her starting a riot.

So much for wishing to keep a low profile.