Despite Elena's presence, the rest of the day on The Grace was quite enjoyable. It took me a few minutes to bite back the urge to send Ana back below deck to put on a shirt to cover the tiny bikini she chose for the day and a few more to tame the sudden erection caused by the sight of her. Probably my favorite part of the day was when Elliot challenged me to a jet ski race. I pulled Ana up behind me and she wrapped her arms around me, pressing as close to me as possible. Occasionally, I felt her lips press against my back. Normally I would have had a panic attack, but having her wrapped around me was enough of a distraction that all I felt was warmth and pleasure from her touch. As we were headed home for the night, I swear my mother was right on the cusp of crying because she saw me allowing Ana to touch me all day and it's not something any of us were used to.
Sunday was another novelty for me. For the first time in years, I rejected several work-related phone calls in order to spend uninterrupted time with Ana. It occurred to me that since the two of us got together, I've been neglecting work more and more often. It should bother me, but it doesn't. The fact that the entire world knows what I do behind closed doors should bother me, but it doesn't. And I know it's because I have Ana. I think I could lose everything as long as I don't lose her which is what prompts me Sunday night to ask her to move in with me.
She is staring at me as though she's wondering whether I'm joking or not. "You're not serious?" she whispers. We're lying on our sides facing each other and my eyes roam her body still flushed from her recent orgasm.
"When it comes to you, I'm always serious," I say quietly, fighting to not feel insulted or hurt by her reaction. "I love having you here, Ana. I love falling asleep with you and waking up with you. When you're here, I know you're safe. I think we've managed to avoid the reality of what's happening to my now very publicized personal life. It's bad enough that I have to dedicate a fraction of my staff to fielding the inquiries that are flooding in on a daily basis and that I can barely step out of my own home without wondering whether some asshole photographer is lying in wait to ambush me. Ana, the longer this goes on, the more likely it is that you're going to be targeted next and I won't let that happen. The only way I could sleep at night is to know you're not on your own and vulnerable."
She opens and closes her mouth several times as though she's trying to find some sort of argument, but can't quite manage it. I wait for her to say that of course she's safe in her apartment even though we both know that's not necessarily true. When she finally finds her words, she looks nervous. "It's a bit soon, isn't it?" she asks weakly.
I raise an eyebrow at her. "You're concerned about time?" I ask in reply. "You know how I feel about you and that is not going to change no matter how much time passes. I'll do whatever it takes to convince you of that. Will it change for you?"
"No," she answers without hesitation. "It won't."
I smile. "So what's the problem?" I ask gently.
She averts her eyes and I get the impression she might say no. I'm not sure how I would react to that. "Can I think about it?" she whispers nervously.
It's not a no, I think, trying to reassure myself. But it's also not a yes. The thought that if things were different between us, if she were my submissive, there wouldn't be any debate, but I also remind myself that if she were my submissive, she wouldn't be in my bed and I certainly wouldn't be asking this of her. "Of course," I whisper, trailing my fingers down her cheek. She sighs and closes her eyes in response. I want to tell her to take her time, that I can be patient for however long it takes for her to think about my request, but the truth is I would hire a moving team to pack her belongings now, in the middle of the night, and have them brought here if given the word.
Unfortunately I'm learning that I can't control Ana's actions however much I may want to on occasion. And honestly, I wouldn't want her to move in because I demand it; I want her with me because she wants to be here. I want my home to be her home and I want her to be happy here.
Just as she has all week, Ana falls asleep in my arms. Tonight, though, I'm restless, worried about everything from Ana's lack of answer to my private life becoming public knowledge. If it weren't so late and if I didn't want Ana to get at least some sleep before work, I'd wake and indulge in her. Instead I get out of bed, pulling on a pair of PJ pants before padding my way out into my apartment. I'm accustomed to seeing my home empty, dark, and quiet in the middle of the night; I tend to spend most of my nocturnal time at the piano trying to ward off bad dreams or lull myself to sleep.
I find myself at the windows overlooking the view of Seattle that convinced me to buy this penthouse. I'm as far removed from normal society as it's possible to be when I'm trying to fit in with them; from here, I'm away from their prying, judgmental eyes. This is one of the few places in the world where I am truly at ease. I imagine it's because there is nobody here to expect something of me, nobody I have to hide from. It still comes as a surprise that even with Ana here, that hasn't changed. I'm so accustomed to being on my own that I thought having somebody here who isn't staff might be stifling. But it isn't. That is why I want her living with me; I'm enjoying the effect she has on me far too much to ever let it go and I'm eager to see how much else she can change about me.
And to think it wasn't so long ago that she was here for the first time and I all but kicked her out because I thought she was too good for me. Well, that hasn't changed much, but now I've discovered letting her go simply isn't an option I could ever face. I only hope she feels the same way.
Sighing, I turn and glance briefly at the piano, debating whether or not to play to calm my mind, but experience tells me I would only wake Ana. So I head into my office and sit behind my desk, reaching over automatically to power up my computer. I'm not foolish enough to believe that whoever has been going to the media about my private life will simply give up because my PR team has essentially firewalled any further information from being leaked. It's bad enough part of my Dominant/submissive contract has been released, but if somebody convinces one of my former subs to talk or somehow gets a hold of my insurance photos, I'm fucked. The second anybody gets those, they can and will twist it into something it is not. Nobody would understand and there will be no way to spin it around in my favor.
In my email inbox is a message from Fred Welch informing me that a search was performed on Benjamin Reese's apartment in Portland shortly after his arrest at GEH. Photos were taken of what was found and the farther down I scroll the more I want to rush back to my bedroom to check that Ana is all right. The fucking psychopath had what amounts to a shrine to Ana in his bedroom. Hundreds of photos of her were stuck to his walls and ceiling, most of which were taken within the last couple of months. The ones that bother me the most are the ones where she was the most vulnerable—when she was asleep or half-naked because she was changing clothes or when she was in the bathtub relaxing with her head back and her eyes closed. Several articles of her clothing were found beneath his pillow including a pair of her underwear and there was even a lock of her hair.
I'll admit I'm not the most normal man in the world. I can be petty and selfish, possessive and jealous, and just generally an asshole, but I've never crossed a line anywhere near the one Reese has crossed. Apparently Taylor told Welch to withhold some of the things found in that apartment from me and that should piss me off, but Welch has summarized those findings and he strongly believes Reese would have taken Ana to god knows where, done god knows what to her, and then killed her. He nearly did and I once again wish desperately I'd have beaten the shit out of him more than I did before Taylor pulled me off of him. The concern with Reese now is that he'll plead insanity at his arraignment and end up at some mental hospital and possibly be released back into general population after a few years. I know my father will do anything possible to keep that from happening, but even he can't control everything.
Over the years, I've made connections with hundreds of people in the business world, but I've also made connections with people who don't live their lives on the legal side of the world. Right now I can think of a handful of ways to get rid of Benjamin Reese permanently without it ever being traced back to me. It's not something I've ever considered before and I know the only reason I'm thinking about it now is because I desperately need to keep Ana safe, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for her.
I shake myself from those thoughts, blaming them on the late hour and lack of sleep. It's best to allow the legal system do their job, but I will keep Plan B nearby just in case.
I huff a humorless laugh at myself. The effect this woman has on me is reaching new levels and I cannot control my thoughts or feelings when it comes to her. It's terrifying on one level and liberating on another, and I never know in which direction it will go at any given moment.
My thoughts cease when I hear the ping of an incoming email and my brow furrows at the unknown sender. It reminds me of the photos I've received of Ana and the ones she received the morning Elena and I had breakfast, the ones that very nearly broke us up. I'd assumed Benjamin Reese was behind them—the ones to me sent with the intention of informing me that Ana wasn't safe; the ones to her to try and convince her she couldn't trust me. But I seriously doubt Reese has internet privileges, so I open the email warily. I expect to see more surveillance photos of Ana; instead I find a video attachment. For a second I debate simply deleting it; nothing good could come from this, but of course I need to know, so I click play. There is only video, no audio, but I don't need to hear what is happening in this video to know what it is.
Immediately Elena Lincoln is scratched off the list of suspects who may have leaked the information about my private life. In the video, a young man is completely naked and shackled to a St. Andrews cross and I know immediately it's me. Elena prowls towards me wielding a whip and like a train wreck, I can't turn away from the sight of the punishment lashing she gives me. I watch my sixteen-year-old self throw his head back in pain and pleasure, remembering instantly how it felt. Elena continues the punishment for several minutes, drops the whip, and then drops to her knees. Before I have to see what happens next—I remember quite clearly—I close the video.
From the beginning, Elena made sure I knew when she decided to take photos of our playroom sessions and it never bothered me. I trusted her implicitly back then and knew she would never betray our secret; doing so would incriminate her as well and she wouldn't risk that. I don't recall her ever informing me that she would be recording our sessions. I adopted a few of her techniques to help ensure my secrets and the thought of taking video had crossed my mind when I was younger, but it felt like too much and I wasn't sure having pornography featuring myself and my submissives would have been safe.
So where the fuck did this come from? And who the fuck sent it? If it wasn't Elena keeping things from me, then she is as much as risk to lose everything as I am. I have no fucking clue what to do with this new information. Confronting Elena suddenly jumps to the top of my list; I need to know if she's behind it and if she isn't, despite everything she's done, she should be aware of the video's existence if for no other reason than for old time's sake. I feel guilty considering it, knowing how Ana feels about Elena, but this isn't something I can delegate to Taylor or Andrea; I need to be able to look Elena in her eyes when she's questioned about this to know whether she is lying.
Getting back to sleep now will be impossible. Again, I briefly consider waking Ana and losing myself in her, but decide on a workout instead. An hour or so in the gym will give me time to think things through and help me decide what to do about this video.
Taylor is parked outside Elena's house in Bellevue, the same house where I became her submissive for six years. After the divorce, Linc decided to cut his losses and left it to her. I always wondered if he ever felt guilty for putting her into the hospital after he found out I was fucking his wife. Then again, that bastard probably never felt guilty for a single fucking thing he ever did. I still get pissed off whenever I recall the state he left her in; I can understand anger directed at the both of us for our deception to him, but it would have been enough to just divorce Elena. He nearly killed her and I've spent years biding my time in case he ever gives me reason to burn him to the ground.
I told Ana about the video this morning before she left for work and that I planned on confronting Elena about it in person. She wasn't particularly enthused by the idea, but she managed to stifle the urge to forbid me from doing it. And I know if she'd asked me not to do this, I would have agreed. I don't want to do this anymore than she wants me to do it, but it has to be done.
"Wait here," I murmur to Taylor, sliding out of the car. I know him well enough to know he would prefer to come with me—he never liked Elena either—but he won't disregard an order unless he truly believes my safety is compromised.
Sighing, I reach up and ring the doorbell, unable to remember the last time I was here. It's been years; it's more likely that Elena will come to my place or Grey House or out to dinner if we have something to discuss, and I preferred it that way. There are a lot of memories in this house and recently, they turned from fond memories to bad ones. Once again, I suspect that is a result of the affect Ana has on me...
The door opens and the look of surprise on Elena's face to find me on her doorstep is clear. "Christian," she says, disbelievingly. "This is a surprise."
"We need to talk," I say quietly. "Something's happened."
She frowns in concern and steps back, opening the door to let me inside. "What is it? Not your family..." I register the sincerity in her worried tone. She cares for my family.
"No, they're fine," I tell her quickly. She relaxes and gives me a small smile, gesturing for me to go into the living room. "I needed to ask you something and I swear to God if you lie to me, you will regret it."
"Sounds ominous," she says with a hint of amusement. "What is it?"
I sit back in an armchair and take a moment to marshal my thoughts. "During the time that I was your submissive," I begin quietly, "how many times did you video record our sessions?"
I watch her face closely for any sign of deception; there's only shock at the question. "Never," she says emphatically, and I know she's telling the truth. "There are the photos, of course, but you knew about them."
I nod slowly. "Do you still have them?" I ask, uncertain whether I want the answer or not.
She raises an eyebrow. "No, I got rid of them years ago when you began becoming successful," she answers. "I didn't want to risk your reputation."
Her reply is a relief; at least the photos are gone... "Late last night I received an email with a video attachment. The video was taken when I was about sixteen and clearly shows the both of us in your playroom," I inform her. "So far I've been unable to trace the email address, but I've got my IT guy digging into it."
"Video?" she says, bewildered. "How in the hell..."
I shake my head. "I was hoping you could tell me," I say tiredly.
"Could you tell where the camera might have been hidden?"
"Well, unless you've redecorated since I last saw it, I recall the cross being on the left wall from the stairs. I'd say judging by the camera angle, the camera was up high, aimed down, and focused diagonally to it."
"Perhaps you could show me?" she requests, standing and turning to face the door of her basement playroom.
I raise an eyebrow at her. "I'm not sure that would be a good idea," I say firmly. "I'm only here because I needed to see the truth about the video for myself and I felt it was only fair to warn you. Nothing else has changed between us and it never will."
She purses her lips against whatever argument she's come up with, but thankfully, she keeps her mouth shut; I'm not in the mood for an argument with her. "Well, I should say thank you, then," she says grudgingly. "I suppose the question now is how that video was possible at all."
"Can you think of anyone?" I ask.
"No," she replies soberly. "If I do, I will let you know."
I want to tell her not to contact me, that I want no communication with her, but at the moment, Elena is the lesser of the evils. She knows how I feel about her and if she's smart, she'll stay the fuck away from both Ana and me. "Thank you," I say stiffly, standing.
"Leaving already?" Elena asks as I start towards the door. "Ana has that leash on you tightly, doesn't she?"
I bristle, but refuse to take the bait she's laid out for me. "Goodbye, Elena," I say shortly, closing her front door behind me.
Fifteen minutes with Elena Lincoln and I'm fucking exhausted. Unfortunately, I've still got a full day of work to get through. Now that most of the drama has settled down some, Ana has insisted she return to PR despite my argument that I wanted her on the twentieth floor for my peace of mind if nothing else. And really, it's probably better that way; having her nearby would be far too tempting and before the end of the week, I'd have her naked and screaming on my desk. I'd enjoy it very much and I'm certain she would, too, but right now with the public eye on me, we don't need any more scandal. I'm still half-expecting Ana to run from the current issues and wonder if that's why she didn't agree to move in with me...
One thing at a time, Grey...
The next thing on my agenda is a meeting with my personal lawyers to bring them up to speed on the video. I briefly considered letting my father handle this mess, but I think he's probably learned more than enough about me for the both of us. And if he were representing me, I'd have to show him this video and he would know about Elena's role in my life, and that cannot happen. I think both my parents would fall over dead from shock and if not, they'd kill Elena and me.
I cannot help being bothered by the fact that Elena doesn't know how that video was taken or who might have planted the video camera in the playroom. They've held onto it for quite some time. Not for the first time I wonder if Linc is somehow involved. If not, it could have been one of Elena's subs previous to me. We never talked about her former submissives, even when I was training to become a Dominant. I have no idea whether I was the first fifteen-year-old she ever seduced and until now I never cared. I suppose it's possible that whoever came before me might have been pissed off enough at Elena for ending their arrangement that he wanted to find some way to get back at her. But why video of Elena and me? Why not just report her for having sex with a minor which would have dragged her through the courts if not landed her in jail? A nagging thought suggests this person may want to punish me along with Elena, but I can't think of anybody who could or would.
Is it possible that this whole thing is because of Elena Lincoln and our previous relationship?
I feel like an idiot even asking myself the question. Of course it's because of Elena; if not for her, I never would have discovered BDSM and I wouldn't have to worry about this scandal. Then again, I'd probably be in jail or dead, so I suppose the point is moot. I did what I did, I made my own decisions, and my affair with Elena was one of them. The results of that affair have helped shape me into the man I am today, and while I know most people wouldn't understand, I'm thankful to her for getting me on the right path. I'm not ashamed of what I've done, but I also didn't want the entire world knowing what I've been a part of.
I do find it rather ironic that shortly after deciding I no longer want to participate in that lifestyle is the moment it's revealed to the world.
By early afternoon, I'm nursing a headache. I'd wanted to have lunch with Ana today, but with my detour to Elena's this morning before coming to work, I had to push back several meetings that couldn't be cancelled and ate a salad while on a conference call. So in a rare moment of peace, I'm tempted to fire whoever has just knocked on my door. I don't, though, because it's Taylor, and judging by the look on his face, whatever he's here for is important.
"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Grey," Taylor says, entering and closing the door behind him. "I found something you should know about."
I sigh, nodding, and gesture for him to take the chair across from my desk. "What is it?"
Before he sits, he hands me a manila file folder, but I don't open it immediately, preferring to hear it from Taylor first. "Welch and I were looking through GEH employees who might possibly have some connection with the leaked information, particularly those whose employment has recently been terminated."
"And?" I say despondently.
Taylor nods at the folder in my hands and I open it, staring in surprise at the information therein. Though really, I shouldn't be too surprised, I suppose...
"You're kidding," I say dully.
"No, sir," Taylor replies. "The deeper we checked into his past, the more sense it makes."
Brandon fucking Riley. I half-expected some attempt at retribution for firing him after I overheard him trying to warn Anastasia away from me. He hinted that he knew things about me that most don't and that I'm not the man Ana believed me to be. I just didn't think he actually knew anything of consequence. In the three years he's worked for me, there have been times when business deals or negotiations during a company acquisition have required tactics that bordered on the line of legality, and he's been involved.
"How the fuck would he have gained access to the things that have been leaked?" I growl.
"Because he was aware of the information before he came to work at GEH, sir," Taylor explains patiently. "I waited to bring this information to you until I was able to confirm it with certainty. Brandon Riley has a half-brother, Mr. Grey. An older brother who was at one time connected to Elena Lincoln."
"Connected?" I repeat.
Taylor shifts in his seat. "I can only assume from what I've learned that it was a... relationship of sorts, possibly similar to ones you have had in the past."
I can't recall the last time Taylor alluded to my past relationships. We had a brief conversation about it when he first came to work for me and afterwards, he assured me he wouldn't quit and we agreed to never discuss it again. "A half-brother?" I repeat quietly. I lean back in my chair and consider the implications of what Taylor is telling me. Riley's half-brother is Elena's former submissive, which would explain how access to her playroom was granted. I've had submissives who have taken it upon themselves to have a self-guided tour of my apartment and there is no doubt in my mind that should one of them be determined enough to sneak into my home, they'd find a way. Elena's home isn't exactly a cozy little double wide; there are ways to get in and out without being noticed. And I should know since more than once I was forced to sneak out an alternate exit because her husband came home unexpectedly.
I make a mental note to have Taylor double check our security measures at Escala. I've had more than enough experience dealing with unwanted, uninvited guests making themselves at home at Ana's apartment; I'm not going to risk someone getting into my home as well.
The question is why this half-brother gives a shit about me after thirteen years. Perhaps Elena ended their arrangement shortly before starting ours and he became jealous. And being her former submissive means he knows what goes into a Dominant/submissive contract, so if he did somehow get into my home to steal a copy of one, he knew precisely what he was looking for. Of course, she never spoke to me about her former submissives just as I've never spoken of mine.
"If I may ask, Mr. Grey," Taylor says uncomfortably, "Did Mrs. Lincoln insist on the use of Non-Disclosure Agreements?"
I know what he's getting at and I know the answer. "No," I scoff. "And I didn't begin using them until GEH got off the ground."
His mouth twists in vague disappointment, but he doesn't seem surprised at my answer. "Well, if we can somehow gain access to this brother's computer hard drive, perhaps we can find the original file and any others that might be present."
I wince at the thought that this may not be the only video this fucker has of my time with Elena. "Bring Barney up to speed," I say reluctantly. I had hoped to keep this mess as far from my work as possible, but I think that ship sailed long ago. "Remind him to operate with complete discretion." Not that I'm worried about Barney talking to anybody; he's one of my most loyal employees.
"Of course, Mr. Grey," Taylor assures me.
"I want security increased both here and Escala," I say. "Change the elevator key code and see if you can't get a few cameras up in the parking garage."
Taylor shifts in his seat looking almost sheepish. "There are cameras in the parking garage, Mr. Grey," he informs me. "I had them installed weeks ago."
I raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Well done..." I mutter, wondering why the fuck it has taken me this long to think about it. "Who has access to the footage?" A series of memories flies through my mind of me pinning Ana to her car or a wall because I couldn't hold off long enough to get upstairs; I'd really rather Escala security not see any of that.
"Only me," Taylor answers, his gaze darting away from me briefly. Clearly he knows exactly why I'm concerned. "The network is encrypted and nearly impossible to access from any computer but mine or yours. I won't say it's not possible to hack into, but I had Barney upgrade the firewalls and by the time somebody manages to break through the first level of security, he and I will be alerted and we can shut it down."
"Nice," I say appreciatively. A look of pride crosses Taylor's expression briefly. "Inform Sawyer that Anastasia is not to go anywhere alone. In fact, I want you to look into hiring a female CPO; perhaps Ana will feel a little more comfortable."
Taylor nods thoughtfully. "I've actually got someone in mind; I'll make a few phone calls."
"Good." I hesitate knowing exactly what Taylor's response from my next order will be. At this point I can't see another option if I want to regain control of my private life. "And I'll be meeting with Brandon Riley this afternoon. In light of the new information, I want to know what his fucking game is."
"Mr. Grey, I would strongly advise you against that," Taylor says predictably. "If Riley is playing a part in all of this, meeting with him could make it worse."
"I'm not asking your permission, Taylor," I say evenly. "I'm simply informing you of what will happen."
Taylor's jaw tenses. "As you wish, sir," he says coolly. "But at least permit me to search him upon arrival. I don't yet see him as a physical threat, but he may attempt to record the conversation."
"Fair enough," I agree.
Taylor nods once, still unhappy with my declaration of meeting Brandon Riley. "Will there be anything else, sir?"
"Not right now, Taylor, no."
Without another word, he turns on his heel and leaves my office. I'd say my head of security is being paranoid on the subject of Brandon Riley—this half-brother of his poses more of a threat in my eyes—but I know the moment I dismiss Taylor's concerns all hell could break loose and that is what he's trying to prevent. I simply want to know what the endgame is for this situation. Money? If that is the case I know without a doubt that I won't hesitate to end this before it goes on any further. Is Riley pissed that I fired him? He knew from day one that violating a GEH NDA would result in immediate employment termination. He may not have gone into detail about anything that day I overheard him talking with Ana in the copy room, but given the opportunity, he would have.
Riley wouldn't be the first disgruntled former employee I've had to deal with—it comes with the territory in the business world. It's never quite escalated to this level, but threats have been made in the past from people who want to see me and my company taken down completely. It hasn't happened yet, and I'll be damned if I let it happen now. Because now I've got much more to lose than just the company I've built over the last seven years; I've got Ana to think about and I refuse to drag her down with me.