"Mr. Grey, a word, please?"

I glance up at Christian in time to see his eyes close in annoyance at Taylor's interruption. For the last couple hours, we've been left to ourselves, talking, playing with Caleb, or just being together. In that time, I think we both managed to temporarily forget everything around us, though I ought to know by now peace is fleeting around here.

Sighing, Christian stands from the edge of the bed and eases Caleb back into my arms. "I won't be long," he murmurs, kissing me briefly.

I nod, trying to smile and tell him it's fine, even though the look on Taylor's face suggests something else entirely. Luckily, Kate arrives just as the men leave to provide a distraction. Or she does until I hear a bang from outside my room followed by a muffled curse that I'm absolutely positive belongs to Christian.

"That sounds pleasant," Kate murmurs, looking between me and the door.

I sigh. When the door opens a few minutes later, Christian stalks in, fingers buried in his messy hair—I think vaguely that he needs a haircut—and looks at me grimly.

"Kate, can you excuse us, please?" he asks, his tone surprisingly pleasant despite the anger in his eyes.

Kate glances at me questioningly, I nod, and she stands with a sigh to leave the room. Once she's gone, Christian begins to pace. "What's wrong?" I ask. I'm not even sure he hears me; he didn't react even slightly. "Christian?"

Finally, he stops at the foot of my bed, wrapping his long fingers around the end railing as he tries to calm himself. "I have to leave," he says in a low tone. "I'm not sure how long I'll be gone."

My eyebrows rise. "Leave? For where?"

He sighs, screwing his eyes shut as though he'd hoped I wouldn't ask. "It's nothing for you to worry about," he says dismissively. The look in his eyes says something completely different.

"Well, I am," I reply boldly. "Of course I'm worried, Christian. You want us to trust each other—we can't do that only when things are going smoothly and choose to keep things to ourselves when they aren't. Don't you think I've earned the right to know what's going on?"

He flinches. I've hit a nerve and I can almost see him replaying what happened with Linc in the apartment. "Yes, you have," he whispers, moving to sit beside me and placing an arm across my waist. "We found Elena. Or rather we have a much better idea of where she is."

"Oh?" I ask, trying to keep my tone even. "Where's that?"

The look of reluctance in his eyes almost makes me want to retract the question. "I told you about Leila," he says quietly, resignedly. "I've been keeping tabs on her since she was taken to the hospital in Connecticut—or rather, Dr. Flynn makes regular inquires into her progress. This morning, he received a call directly from her with a message for me that Elena has been attempting to make contact with her. Leila has been trying to ignore the attempts; since beginning treatment, she's become more able to spot toxic relationships and Elena gives off every negative feeling she's been trying to avoid. Elena is getting more insistent, so Leila called Flynn, hoping there is something I can do to get Elena to back off."

It takes me a couple minutes to understand exactly what it is he's telling me, but the moment I do, I wish I hadn't. "So you're going out there with not one but two of your exes, both of whom have exhibited some very outward signs of psychosis to... what, exactly? Have some sort of intervention?"

He looks at me apologetically. "Leila wants to talk to me personally," he says slowly. "It's the last thing I want to do; Flynn, her doctors, and even Taylor have been trying to get information from her, but she is refusing to give anything up. I think she's scared and I think I'm the only one she'll talk to. And if Elena is there, it can't be just for a wellness check."

"Does Elena know Leila?" I ask quietly.

His gaze is wary. "Yes," he mouths.

"Did all your submissives know her?"

"Yes."

I sigh. This situation is getting more ridiculous by the minute. "If Elena is involved in all this, why would she bring Leila into it?"

He hesitates. "I don't know," he answers, though I don't believe him. The longer I stare at him expectantly, the more defeated he looks. "The theory I have is that since involving Joe and José in this to lure you away from me didn't pan out the way Linc had hoped, they think adding Leila to the mix might fix that."

"How so?" I ask, though I think I already know the answer.

"Perhaps they want you to see the extent of my depravity," he suggests, not meeting my eyes. "Of all the submissives I've had, Leila tended to bring out the worst in me. The others had limits of how far they were willing to go; she didn't. I'll spare you the details, but in the time we were together, I was able to lose myself with her in a way I haven't been able to with almost anyone. I think there is a possibility that when Leila was trying to get my attention last year, she may have gone to Elena—or Elena may have gone to her. I don't know. I have a feeling Leila may have confided in Elena and now Elena may be trying to use that against her and me."

"Can I talk you into not going?" I ask.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You could," he says wearily, "but at this point, I'd rather you didn't. Linc is in jail. Jack Hyde is dead. Battaglia and the photographer aren't direct threats—at least not according to Taylor. Elena is currently the only loose thread in this mess. If we get her, we can move on."

I don't like it; by the look in his eyes, neither does he. But I can understand his reasoning. I can't deny the insecurity I feel knowing he's going to be on the other side of the country with those women, both of whom were once exactly what he wanted and needed in life.

Only sexually, my mind reminds me. Neither of them, nor the other former submissives, got all of him the way you do. The ones who wanted more were sent packing. You weren't. He fought for you. He's still fighting. For your peace of mind and your future together.

"How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know," he whispers sadly. "Hopefully not long—a day or two. I hate this, Ana. Every time things start to look up for us, we're yanked apart again."

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly, trying not to think of how much longer this scenario will last. "You're not going alone, are you?" I ask.

He smiles. "No. Taylor will stay here with you while I'm gone, but I'll take a couple other security guys with me, just in case."

I frown. "What about Sawyer?" I have a vague recollection of him telling me Sawyer had basically been fired.

Christian scowls. "Ana, don't," he warns.

"It wasn't his fault, you know," I say quietly. "You said yourself even Taylor didn't realize there could have been way into the building."

He glares. "A lot of people are to blame for that," he says darkly. "And yes, Sawyer is on that list."

"Who else is on it?" I ask without thinking. "Am I?"

His features harden and I know he is right on the verge of losing his temper with me completely. "Stop," he growls.

"No. Tell me." I don't know why it's so important for me to hear it out loud, but it is. Both he and I know without doubt that I'm on that list.

Jumping to his feet, Christian paces halfway across the room until I think he'll just leave the room altogether without saying another word, but he suddenly spins around to face me again. "Yes," he snaps. "You are on that fucking list. Why? Because if you hadn't been so fucking stubborn and had just come back to Escala with me, you would not have been accessible to Linc or anybody else. But as always, it has to be your way. How do I know that? Because I'm exactly the same way. I sent you away for your protection and it seems I was right to do so, only my timing was a bit off. And for the record, I'm on the list, too. I was too fucking afraid that if I tried to force you into coming back to Escala with me, you would really run and I'd never get you back. Everything I or my team has done so far has failed to keep you and Caleb safe. This is all I have left that I have even a hint of semblance of control over."

I bite my tongue during his rant that he hasn't fired Taylor over what happened, so why does Sawyer get the brunt of it all? "I'm sorry," I whisper. "Christian, I don't blame you. You're right; my stubbornness caused everything."

He sighs, returning to me and sitting down at my side. "No, it didn't," he concedes. "If I'd handled sending you away differently, perhaps you would have come home. Let's leave it at we all fucked up for now and we'll sort it later. Okay?" I don't know how to respond, so I stare down at my knotted fingers. He leans in, taking my chin in hand to turn me towards him. "Ana, I don't want to leave here with us fighting. We've done that one too many times and it kills me every time. Please, baby."

All my tension, anger, and fear fade away at his words. He's right; more often than not, right before one of us leaves for whatever reason, it's following some sort of fight. "I don't want to fight," I assure him. "I just want this to be over."

He smiles sadly. "I know, baby. So do I. And it will be; I don't know exactly when, but it will be. Please trust me."

"I do," I whisper honestly. "I don't want you to go, but I know why you have to. Just come home safely." My eyes narrow at him as I attempt to lighten the mood. "And that's not a request, Mr. Grey."

He cracks a genuine smile and chuckles. "Yes, Miss Steele," he murmurs, leaning in again. "Understood."

We spend a few more minutes, each of us lost in our thoughts, before he sighs and stands. "I should go," he said resignedly. "I'll call you the moment I get there and I'll keep you updated, and I'll come home as quickly as possible."

I nod, desperately wishing he'll suddenly decide this isn't necessary after all. "I love you," I whisper after he gives me a kiss to tide us over until his return. "Be careful. Try to behave."

"I could say the same to you," he responds with a raised eyebrow. "If for some reason I don't get back before you're released from this place, I'd like you to stay with Kate and Elliot, or even with my parents. I don't want you to be alone. Wherever you choose to go, Taylor will arrange it; just tell him. And when I am back, we will be going to the new house."

"I'd like that," I mouth. He gives me his shy smile. "And I will tell Taylor where I choose to go."

Winking, he kisses me again, then walks around my bed to where Caleb is sleeping in his portable crib to press a kiss to his sleeping forehead. "I love you, too, Anastasia. Don't ever doubt that."

With one last smile, he leaves the room and I immediately feel bereft. He's been gone for about three seconds and I miss him already. Grinning stupidly, I inwardly roll my eyes at myself. God, I've got it bad for this guy...

This is a bad idea. I knew it the moment I left the hospital and got in the car with Ryan to take me to the airport. Taylor wasn't pleased when I told him my plan—he thinks this could be some sort of trap, a way to lure me away from Anastasia and Caleb to hurt either me or them. My gut says otherwise and I tend to trust it in most situations, but that doesn't mean I've let my guard down. I sent Leila a text message just before my plane took off informing her that I am on my way and that I will meet her at a restaurant shortly after I land. I've got no desire to meet with her in private and I don't want to give Ana any reason to be uneasy about this than she already is. Besides, in the public, we're on neutral ground. She'll feel safer and might be more willing to open up. And if Elena really is hanging around, my presence might coax her out into the open where the police I've tipped off and have on standby can apprehend and send her back to Seattle.

As soon as I land, I make good on my promise to contact Ana and assure her I'm fine. I smile softly at the sound of her voice; I must have interrupted her nap. I'd have thought she'd just let the phone ring if she was sleeping, but I love that she's so expectantly awaiting my call and to hear my voice.

"I've arranged for a table towards the back of the restaurant," I say to Ryan and Reynolds when we arrive. "Privacy is important if this is going to be successful, but I want the two of you nearby just in case. Theoretically, Leila isn't the threat she was last year, but we're taking no chances."

Both men nod and follow me inside. I scan the place for Leila, but she hasn't arrived yet. Good. It will give my security the opportunity to get the restaurant secure. The manager spots us and makes a beeline; I inform him that my men will require access to every corner of his building and he quickly agrees. I'm sure the cash I gave him for his cooperation was a major factor in that agreement. The moment I'm seated in a chair with my back to the wall so I can see everything around me, the manager delivers a bottle of wine and leaves two menus. I don't have any intention of actually eating right now, but I think this is another way to reassure Leila.

I glance at my watch when she enters—she's right on time. I'm sure she clearly recalls my reaction to her lateness when she was my submissive; there were times I believed she did it on purpose just so I'd punish her. Her eyes scan the area, widening when she finds me. I watch warily as her eyes automatically dart to her feet as she walks towards me. I haven't seen her since last year when I loaded her into an ambulance to be taken to the hospital for a mental evaluation and I'm relieved to see her appearance has very much improved in that time. She's regained the weight she lost. She's clean and well groomed, and her clothes fit her. The drawn look of her face is gone as is the paleness of her skin and the deadened look in her eyes.

"Hello, Leila," I mutter, my manners forcing me to pull out a chair for her. I seat myself again, finding her staring at the table. "Thank you for meeting me."

"Yes, Mr. Grey," she says quietly.

It occurs to me suddenly that while I once loved it when women submitted to me without argument, that isn't the case anymore. I've grown accustomed to having Ana give me a bit of her smart mouth or challenging me that I don't know how I possibly did anything else before. "Leila, I am not your Dominant anymore," I say very quietly to avoid being overheard. "I'm here for information and it will be difficult to get it if you're hesitant."

She blanches, but looks up at me. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry," she breathes.

I roll my eyes. "Tell me about Mrs. Lincoln. When did she first approach you?" I pour each of us a glass of wine, sliding one to Leila in the hopes it will relax her.

Taking a sip, she steels her nerves. "About a week ago," she answers. "I've gotten a job at a local art gallery and she found me there."

"What did she say?" I ask briskly.

"That she knows..." She flushes, looking away briefly. "She knows what I did last year and that if I wanted a chance to get back into your life, she could help. She said that the girl you are with now isn't right for you, but she thought I might be, so if I helped her..." She shrugs.

"If you helped her, the prize would be me," I finish bitterly. "Elena Lincoln is the cause of several problems in my life right now, Leila, and she is not to be trusted under any circumstances."

Leila nods quickly. "Yes, sir, I know," she says. "I never agreed to help. I'd hoped that if I ignored her attempts to reach me, she'd give up. When it didn't, I did what you told me to do—I called Dr. Flynn. I thought you needed to know about this."

"Yes, I do," I agree. "And you did the right thing. Do you know where Elena is now?"

She shakes her head. "I haven't heard from her since late last night."

"How did she contact you?"

She hesitates a moment, then reaches into her purse for her cell phone. I wait with strained patience as she searches for something, and then hands it to me. I shoot her a warning look when she intentionally let's her fingers graze mine. I know what that touch means and I have no interest in pursuing it for any reason. Looking back down at the phone, I see several text messages from Elena's phone number, the last telling Leila to just wait patiently. As I read it, I know what it's really saying—be patient; Mr. Grey will fall for this plan very soon. Fuck me... I'm playing into Elena's hands. I knew it might be a possibility, but that doesn't make it any easier to take. The only comfort I have right now is that Leila hasn't intentionally pulled me into it; I can see in her eyes that she's being absolutely honest right now.

"I'll be in town for at least the night," I say, handing Leila back her phone. "If Elena contacts you again in that time, you're to tell me immediately." I reach into my wallet for a business card. "Is that understood?"

She nods. "Yes, Mr. Grey," she replies, tucking the card into her purse.

"Good. I have to go, but if you'd like to remain here to have something to eat, feel free. The bill is prepaid."

I vaguely hear Leila thank me as I turn to leave the restaurant, glancing over to find Ryan and Reynolds standing to follow me. On the ride back to the hotel, I think over our conversation. Leila didn't tell me anything I couldn't have worked out, and I'm still not convinced there isn't more to the story. Elena wouldn't use Leila as a pawn in whatever game she's playing by dismissing her when Leila tried to ignore her. Undoubtedly, the ultimate goal is to catch my attention, trick me into a meeting. Elena knows me well enough to know I wouldn't be able to ignore my curiosity and not investigate the hell out of it. And I know her well enough to know she's not going to give up until she gets whatever it is she wants.

Growling, I stalk into my suite, unceremoniously dropping my jacket on a chair and kicking off my shoes. I'm tempted to say fuck it all, go back to Seattle, grab Ana and Caleb, and move somewhere new just so we can have the chance at a calmer life. These problems will follow us, though, no matter how far we go. I need this shit sorted quickly. With Ana being pregnant, my priority is to ensure it goes as smoothly as possible. I haven't forgotten even the tiniest of details of what she went through with Caleb—between what she and Kate have told me, and the medical records I had pulled, I've worked out enough to know the circumstances were dire at some points. I don't want Ana to be stressed out and worried that someone is still trying to hurt or destroy us. She needs me to take care of her and I want that more than anything.

First, though, I need to fix this mess.

At the knock on my door, I scowl. Right now I just want to sleep, having not done so nearly often enough in the last week or two. I yank the door open, intending to chew out whoever has the balls to bother me. But that intention evaporates the moment I see that person. I'm not sure if I'm more surprised or angry right now, though I'm leaning towards anger.

"What the fuck do you want, Elena?" I growl.