Chapter 3:Christian's POV:

Trigger warning: Anastasia talks about her near rape by "Husband Number Three" that occurred when she was in her early teens.

About a month after Anastasia agreed to be my permanent PA, there was a long holiday weekend, which I gave her off. According to Sawyer, she was staying in town, and her father was visiting from Monsanto. I'd wanted to invite her to the Independence Day Picnic at my parents' estate that Sunday afternoon, but I knew she'd refuse since it wasn't a work function. I went to my parents' house anyway, determined to put on a happy face and try to be a good son for once in my rotten life.

Flashback: July 3, 2016

I was sitting by the pool talking to Elliot, drinking a beer, and watching Mia splash around in the water with some of her friends, when I got a text message from Ryan, who was stationed at the gate, in the security office there. I'd given Taylor the weekend off, so Ryan was on duty. I'd been at my parents' house for a couple of hours, and we'd already eaten lunch.

Apparently, according to Ryan's text, there was some kind of problem with Sawyer. I immediately felt worried that something was wrong with Anastasia, since Sawyer was still protecting her covertly, even over the holiday weekend. Instead of responding to Ryan's text, I excused myself and made my way to the security office where he was waiting. But even before I got there, I received a call from Anastasia.

"Anastasia, are you OK?" I asked urgently as I answered the call.

She sounded pissed off as she asked, "Christian, are you having me followed?"

"What?" I asked, surprised. What was this about?

"Answer the fucking question," she demanded angrily. "There's an asshole here by the name of Luke Sawyer who claims you hired him to follow me. I noticed him a few weeks ago, and he's been stalking me ever since, but I waited until Dad was here to back me up before I confronted him. Imagine my shock when he handed over his cell phone as evidence that he works for you. I've seen his texts to you about me, Christian. What the hell?"

Oh, shit. I guess I should have told her. "Anastasia, he's there to protect you."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" she exclaimed. "Christian, have you forgotten what happened the first time you ever met me? You know, when you took me off guard when you almost touched my shoulder, and I landed you on your ass at my job interview? Mr. Sawyer here wasn't as lucky today as you were that day. I think I might have broken his wrist."

Shit, shit, shit! "Anastasia..." I started to say, but she cut me off.

"No, Christian, listen to me. We are at Pike Place Market, but we're taking Mr. Sawyer to the ER at Virginia Mason to get his wrist x-rayed. After we drop him off, Dad and I are going home. I don't want to hear another word from you today. I have this weekend off, and I don't want to to talk about this, or talk to you at all, until Tuesday. You have a meeting at 9 a.m. I will be at work by 8, and I expect to hear from you, at that time, a very good explanation for why you hired someone to follow me and never thought to tell me about it. If your explanation does not pass muster, then you can expect my resignation before you've finished your 9:00 meeting."

Before I had a chance to say a word, she'd hung up. Fuck!

The next day, Independence Day, was the longest day of my life. I couldn't concentrate on work, even though I still had plenty to do in spite of it being a holiday. But all I could think about was how angry Anastasia was with me. I had fucked up, and I had to make things right with her somehow.

A small part of me was amazed with myself, that I had allowed her to talk to me the way she had, and I hadn't even gotten pissed off. No, I was only worried. I realized then and there that I was not a Dominant, not really. The problem was, it was the only way I knew. I could not have anyone touch me. I would not be able to have sex without having the woman restrained, even Anastasia. I could make her like it, of that I was certain. But would she go for it? What the hell was I thinking; she was my employee. She'd never go for it; she'd made that perfectly clear from the beginning.

I knew an hour would not be enough time to sufficiently explain why I'd hired Sawyer, so I talked Ros into covering my 9 a.m. meeting. Little did Anastasia know it, but Jerry Roach was actually the owner of Seattle Independent Publishers, and this was supposed to be my first meeting with him about buying his company. I wasn't going to tell Anastasia about it until the deal had been made, just in case it fell through. Even if she wouldn't be ready to take over for a couple of years, I could make sure she was walking into a healthy company when the time came. I instructed Ros on our bottom line, and left her to work her magic, knowing she wouldn't disappoint.

Once I had things squared away with Ros, I made a reservation at Tulio for a private dining room for two for Tuesday morning at 8:15. I knew I needed to grovel, and what better way to do that than by taking her to a fancy restaurant for breakfast? Well, that, and a sincere apology. Yes, Christian Grey was going to apologize... for not telling her that I'd hired somebody to protect her. I only hoped she would be able to understand my reasons for hiring Sawyer, but even I wasn't sure why I hadn't informed her.

Tuesday morning, I got to the office around 6:30, so I'd already shot off a few emails before Ana arrived at 7:30. I had a security monitor in my office so I could see the front office at any given time, so I'd been watching for her. As soon as she arrived, I walked out to greet her.

"Christian?" she said, as she heard my office door open. "You're here early." I felt naked as she examined me, and it didn't help matters when she said, "You look like hell. Did you sleep here last night?"

I was surprised by her... calmness. "You're not angry," I observed.

Her face gave nothing away. "I calmed down. I'm waiting for your explanation."

"Which you will receive... as soon as you sit down to breakfast with me. I've made reservations for us this morning, so shall we be on our way?"

She looked surprised. "Breakfast reservations? But... you have a 9 a.m. meeting. How will we be back in time?"

"We won't," I answered. "Ros is covering it. I need to talk to you, and you deserve more than an hour squeezed in before that meeting. So I'm taking you out for breakfast, and I'll explain everything then."

She looked a bit skeptical, but she responded, "OK, then." She grabbed her purse from her desk drawer and stood up. She was wearing a plum colored pencil skirt that stopped just above her knee and a white sleeveless blouse that was cut perfectly for her curves, and as I stood there admiring her beauty, I wished more than ever that I could just tell her how I felt about her. But no, that would not go well, and I knew it.

We got to the restaurant about twenty minutes early, but thankfully our private room was available. We made small talk and then ordered before we finally got into the real reason we were here.

"I'm sorry, Anastasia," I told her. "Please forgive me for not informing you about Sawyer. I should have told you everything from the beginning, and I really don't have a good reason for neglecting to do so. I just didn't think about it."

"But why hire him in the first place?" she asked. "I'm just your assistant. You hired a body guard for your assistant. It doesn't make sense."

"It makes perfect sense," I argued. "Elena Lincoln threatened you, and I took her threats seriously. That woman is dangerous. To you. And then there's the fucking press. They think... Well, you know what they think, and you know how they hound you. Sawyer has managed to keep them away from you."

"I noticed," she said. "But I thought he was a crazy stalker who wanted to keep other men away from me. He completely creeped me out, and... well, to be honest, he scared the shit out of me. Did you know I had a stalker when I was in college?"

"No, I didn't know that," I admitted. That wasn't in her background report.

She explained, "He was some guy in my Creative Writing class. Early in the semester, I read something I'd written aloud to the class, and that guy... well, I guess he was... overly impressed. He asked me out after that, but I wasn't interested. He didn't take no for an answer. He started popping up everywhere on campus that I went regularly. I even saw him outside my dorm on occasion."

"Did you report him?" I asked.

"Yeah, but it didn't do any good," she answered. "He was always gone by the time the campus police got there. They said they had to catch him 'in the act' before they could do anything. I'm not sure what kind of act they wanted to catch him in." She shuddered as she continued, "Well, they did catch him in the act, but not until after I'd already taken care of him. I'm sure he didn't.. walk the same way after that. And I guess he never tried to rape another girl. That was what I was going for anyway."

Holy fuck. I needed his name. This fucker had tried to rape my girl? I would end him. "Who was he?" I asked.

"Doesn't matter," she answered. "Thank God my Dad had gotten me to take those self defense classes. He actually followed me back to my dorm from the library that night, but I saw him. I confronted him before he had a chance to attack me, and he ended up with my knee in his groin. And then a busted lip. And then a restraining order. He left me alone after that."

"Did you press charges?" I asked.

"Damn straight, I did. I didn't want him doing that shit to some other girl. The asshole actually had duct tape that he admitted he was planning to use on me. He confessed to the police, so he got off easy. They settled out of court. I didn't really get a say."

"How did you not get a say? You were the victim," I asked.

"He didn't actually rape me," she answered. "Just scared the shit out of me. I couldn't sleep after that, and it took me some time to get through it. But I survived. But you can make damn sure that I notice when somebody is following me, and Luke Sawyer has been following me for several weeks now. When did you hire him?"

I sighed and determined to answer all her questions honestly and openly. "The week after I got rid of Esclava salons. The day after Elena made her first threat against you."

"And it never occurred to you to just tell me that she had threatened me?" she asked. "You know I can handle that bitch."

"No, Anastasia, I don't know that you can handle her. She's dangerous," I insisted.

"Christian, I took you down. And I took down your guy Luke Sawyer. And according to Jason, he's a marine. Black ops. At least he was, and my dad swears once a marine, always a marine. In fact, that little stint in Luke Sawyer's resume was the main thing that kept my dad from shooting him."

"Sawyer is grateful your father didn't shoot him, and so am I," I told her. "We both are also relieved that you didn't break his wrist. It's only badly sprained. He'll have time for it to heal before he finds a new job. I fired him."

She looked guilty, which made her look more adorable than she already did. "I was afraid of that. I think you should give him another chance instead of firing him. To his credit, he didn't try to protect himself. In hindsight, I can see that he was so concerned with protecting me that he let me injure him. I have no doubt that he could have taken me if he'd tried, knowing what I know of his background now."

"You don't want me to fire him?" I asked surprisedly. "Does that mean you'll agree for him to keep protecting you if I rehire him?"

"Oh, hell no, that's not what I mean," she asserted. "I still don't quite understand why you hired someone to protect me. I'm just your assistant."

I looked her in the eye and hoped she didn't notice how I was sweating, or how quickly my heart was beating, as I told her, "You're not just my assistant, Anastasia." Oh, shit, what was I supposed to say? All I could come up with was, "You're a very valuable employee." That sounded lame, even to me. So I continued, "And if you get hurt by Elena Lincoln or some stupid paparazzi, it will be my fault. It's important to me to protect you."

She looked like she was buying it. Good. "OK, I get it," she said. "But I refuse to be followed constantly. I think it's time to discuss compromise."

Compromise? Well, I could live with that.

Finally, our food arrived, and we were both silent as the waiter set our plates in front of us and refilled our coffee and tea. When he left the room, I asked Anastasia, "So, do you forgive me?"

She smiled weakly and answered, "I forgive you this time. But if you ever do anything like this again, I will hand you my resignation before you can blink."

I could not have that happen, so I would do whatever it took to keep her. "You have my word, it won't happen again."

"OK, then," Anastasia agreed. "Compromise. No more creepy stalking. I need to actually be aware that he's there. I'm OK with him being at GEH. In fact, you could use him as the executive office guard that you need anyway. He can escort me to and from the front of my building each day, since I usually walk. He can also escort me on any errands I run for you. But my off time is my time. He gets the weekends off, just like I do, unless I'm going to some event with you, in which case, Jason will be there anyway. So, if you want to include Mr. Sawyer as well, that's fine. But only work functions. Do we have an understanding?"

No, I didn't like this at all. "So... what about having him go back to covert operative on weekends? I'd feel much more comfortable if he were there as you run around Seattle on weekends. You usually walk, or take public transportation, Anastasia, and it's just not safe. You're a target now."

"No, absolutely not," she insisted. "I can take care of myself. If you don't believe that, take a good look at your hired man's badly sprained wrist. And he's lucky, because there are others who ended up with broken bones after crossing me."

"OK, right, I get it. You're a badass." A very hot badass, whose panties I wanted in more than I had ever wanted any woman. Shit, focus, Grey! Keep your girl safe! "But Elena Lincoln is so much worse. She's evil, and she hates you right now."

"Duly noted. I will be careful. But there will be no bodyguard on my off time. And no more stalkers either."

I sighed, wondering for a second if I could put another covert on her without her finding out. But if I did that and she found out, she would quit, and I'd lose her. I couldn't risk it. "Fine, Anastasia. For now. But if she does something... If you get hurt... I will never forgive myself."

"If the threats intensify, then we can reevaluate," she said to appease me. "But so far, she hasn't threatened me directly. I wasn't even aware of the threat until you told me."

"It's possible that she hasn't threatened you directly because Sawyer has been there protecting you. Once you lose his cover, anything can happen."

She nodded. "I guess I'll be ready for anything then." I knew that I would not be able to convince her... not unless Elena actually did something to scare her badly enough to agree to more protection.

"Relax, Christian," Anastasia said. "I've met worse people than Elena Lincoln. Hell, my mother has been married to worse people than Elena Lincoln. I will be fine."

I wished I could believe that. But now, she had piqued my interest. "What do you mean? About your mother's marriages?" I hoped she didn't feel that I was asking too personal a question. I wanted to know everything about her, but I had to tread carefully.

"The whole reason I learned Krav Maga was because of Husband Number Three. He was... how can I put it? Well, he was a monster. And I was only a girl. In my early teens. I saw how he looked at me, and it made me uncomfortable, but I was too young to really understand the danger I was in. I learned the hard way when my mom was late coming home from work one day. He hurt me so badly I had to go to the hospital. Cracked a few ribs and gave me a concussion. He almost raped me. He would have if my mother hadn't arrived home just when she did. She found me, tied to the bed, naked, with him standing over me, also naked, with his belt in his hand, which he was beating me with. And before you ask, no, I didn't press charges. My mom begged me not to. She didn't even leave the bastard, not then. But she sent me back to live with my dad, so I got what I wanted."

I think my brain had frozen over, I was in so much shock at her words. "She stayed married to a man who almost raped her daughter?" I asked numbly.

Anastasia nodded. "It was another eight months before she left him. And that didn't have anything to do with me. Anyway, I don't want to talk about my mother. We aren't close. My point in telling you that story is that I've met worse people than Elena Lincoln."

Well, maybe she was right. Elena wasn't so horrible. She'd helped me, once upon a time. Maybe I was just feeling biased against her because of how she'd double-crossed me by stealing from me.

Anastasia continued, "And anyway... we're leaving the country next week, and we're going to be traveling a lot through the end of the summer. So, I'm not going to be in Seattle long enough for her to do anything."

With that, I let it go, and I focused on keeping her safe within the framework that she would allow me to.

(end of flashback)

Our first overseas trips together were in mid-July, when we spent four days in Taipei, followed by a week traveling from Hong Kong to Guangzhou to Shenzhen, and then back to Hong Kong. As promised, I made sure we had time for some sightseeing, and I loved the look of wonder in her eyes as she saw these sites for the first time. In Taipei, she'd arranged for us to stay in a three-bedroom suite. As Taylor was also traveling with us, we each occupied one of the bedrooms. One evening, it was raining too hard for us to go out, and the two of us ended up "hanging out" playing card games. It was the first time in my life that I'd ever "hung out" with another girl besides my sister. God, how I wanted to suggest strip poker. I found out that night though that Anastasia was really good at poker, so I would have probably been the one to end up naked before her. It might have been worth it though. But I knew I couldn't do it and destroy our relationship. I couldn't lose her.

It was in Taipei that Anastasia witnessed my first nightmare. It was also there in Taipei that we shared our first kiss.

Flashback: July 15, 2016: hotel suite in Taipei, around 2 a.m.

"No! Mommy, stop him! Please, no! Don't do that! Stop! It hurts! Help me, Mommy!"

The mean man was burning me with his cigarette again, and Mommy was just standing there watching him do it. Why didn't she help me? Why didn't she love me enough?

"Christian! Christian, wake up!" the voice of an angel called me.

The mean man glared at me, daring me to say anything. I was so scared I couldn't speak, so I didn't think the angel would be able to find me.

"Christian! Please, wake up! You're having a nightmare!" The angel sounded scared. Was she afraid of the mean man too?

"Don't touch him, Ana," I heard Taylor's voice say. "He'll never forgive himself if he hurts you." What was Taylor doing here?

I felt something on my chest, and it didn't burn. It felt... comforting. Slowly, I blinked my eyes open. The first thing I saw was Anastasia's frightened face. She had her hand on my chest. Directly on my chest, over the place where my heart should be, if I had one. For the first time in my life, someone was touching my naked chest, and it didn't burn.

"Anastasia?" I asked. Was I still dreaming.

"You were having a nightmare," she said softly. Her voice was so gentle. God, I needed her.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I had her in my arms, kissing the shit out of her. Holy shit, it was amazing. I felt like the thunderstorm that was still going on outside was inside my head now. My entire body felt electrified, and it felt more amazing than anything I'd ever felt in my entire miserable life. And she was responding to me, kissing me back. Our tongues were entangled, and I'd never tasted anything quite so... intoxicating. There was no other word for Anastasia. She was simply intoxicating. Was this really happening, or was I still asleep? I wasn't really sure, but I didn't want the dream to end if that's what it was.

All too soon, we stopped for air, and Anastasia quickly pulled herself away from me. "I'm so sorry, Christian!" she apologized. Why was she apologizing? I wanted to kiss her again.

"Sleep with me," I asked her. I think I asked. I don't think I was being pushy.

"Christian... I... I think I need to return to my room. I'm sorry." What? No, don't go. But before I knew it, she had gone. Shit! As I lay there, now fully awake, I wasn't sure if what I thought had just happened had really happened at all, or if I'd dreamed it all.

(end of flashback)

It wasn't until the next morning, when Anastasia was unable to make eye contact with me, that I realized that it had really happened. Since I couldn't risk losing her, I knew I needed to address the awkwardness she was feeling before it got worse. I explained to her that I was often plagued by night terrors that were related to experiences from my early childhood, before I was adopted. I told her that I only vaguely remembered the night before, and that I hadn't been in my right mind. I assured her that nothing like that would happen again, and I begged her to forget about it.

Secretly, I hoped that Anastasia had enjoyed that kiss as much as I had. I hope she lay awake at night thinking about me as much as I lost sleep thinking about her. Did she masturbate to thoughts of me? God, I hoped so.

We left Taipei the next day, and for the rest of our trip, Anastasia had her own hotel room, so I didn't disturb her with any more nightmares. After a day or two, things got back to normal between us. She was her happy self again, and I delighted in showing her around Hong Kong. We didn't have as much time for sightseeing in mainland China, but I expected we would be back to do business in Shanghai in the coming months, so I was not bothered by that fact.

In August, we spent another 10 days in London and Paris. We had multiple meetings almost everyday, but we also had enough downtime each day for some sightseeing. We went on the London Eye together, and toured Buckingham Palace. We also went to the top of the Eiffel Tower and spent an afternoon in the Louvre. We did a few other touristy things in both cities, including two afternoons at the British Library and another afternoon at the Saint George Inn, and then in Paris, I let Anastasia talk me into a literature walking tour. But we also did a few things that were off the beaten path in both cities, like one afternoon in London, we took a random ride on a double-decker bus and then had a late lunch in a random curry house. I'm sure my spontaneity shocked Taylor, but I didn't hear any complaints from him. Not that it would have mattered. All I really cared about was pleasing my assistant, strangely enough. Of course, I saw her as so much more than my assistant. My girl got to see the places she'd dreamed of going all her life, and I got to take her there. My life would have only been complete if she had been holding my hand, kissing me again like she had that night in Taipei.

Over those summer months, between our busy traveling and social events, Anastasia had asked to take a few days off here and there to spend with her father, Raymond Steele. Towards the end of the summer, he moved to Seattle, and Anastasia took a few afternoons off to accompany him to medical appointments. He'd retired from his woodworking business after dropping his hammer and other tools too many times, and being unable to make the same precise cuts that he previously had. His weakening muscles had proven to be hazardous to his job, so he'd been forced to quit. He'd complained to Anastasia of worsening muscle cramping, and Anastasia told me that it must be bad if he was willing to talk about it and get medical help. It turned out that it was serious... very fucking serious. The doctors suspected ALS, and this was confirmed in September. Mr. Steele purposefully waited until after he'd had a chance to celebrate my girl's birthday with her before he broke the news to her.

Anastasia's birthday was September 10, a Saturday, and I knew she'd planned to spend the day with her father. The next day, she was supposed to attend a luncheon with me for a non-profit that I supported, but she called me early that morning to cancel. She explained that she had gotten some terrible news from her father and that she was too upset to be out in public. I ended up not going to that luncheon. Instead, I showed up at her apartment, insisting that she tell me what had her so upset. When I got there and texted her to let me in, it turned out that she wasn't even home yet, but was still with her dad. She ended up meeting me at a cafe near her dad's place and filling me in on everything. I was concerned. More concerned than I had ever felt for another person.

She explained that her dad had just told her that morning that he had ALS, and that the doctors expected at the rate that it was progressing that he'd be in a wheelchair by the end of the year, and that he would only live a few months after that. Normally, the life expectancy is longer, but Raymond Steele had been having symptoms for a couple of years now, and he hadn't seen a doctor about it. He'd only agreed to see a doctor when he realized that he could no longer perform his usual daily functions and had to retire. Over the Independence Day holiday weekend, after they'd dealt with the Sawyer situation, Raymond Steele had let Anastasia talk him into selling his property in Montesano and moving into an assisted living facility in Seattle, which was the first sign to her that he was really in worse shape than she'd realized. Then, he agreed to allow her to accompany him to medical appointments.

Anastasia learned that September weekend that not only was her beloved father going to die probably within the year, but it was going to be an excruciating death. His body would slowly shut down until he was unable to breathe, and then he would suffocate to death. Anastasia explained that Raymond Steele had always been larger than life to her, and she couldn't imagine how he was going to cope. He already wasn't coping well, she said. He was a proud man, who didn't like to accept help from anyone, and very soon he wasn't going to have a choice. He already was showing signs of depression at having to move into an assisted living facility, and things were only going to get worse.

My heart... yes, I was beginning to believe that I did have one... was broken for my girl. I spent the entire weekend researching ALS, and I even put Barney to work looking for alternative treatments. By Monday evening, Barney had come through. Apparently, there was a doctor in Sweden who had seen promising results in reversing the muscle loss of advanced-stage ALS patents from a combination of a high-fat diet and a medication that she'd developed. It didn't promise to be a cure, as no cure for ALS existed, but it could slow the progress of his disease and extend his life. He would have to go to Sweden for treatment though.

Thus, I came up with the most disgusting and disturbing plan imaginable for helping to at least prolong the life of the loved-one of the only woman in the world who I would ever want. Actually, maybe I didn't have a heart after all, if I were really able to pull off what I was planning. She would hate me after this, I knew. But it was the only way I could see to not only help her father but also finally get what I wanted... Anastasia Steele in my bed.

Author's Note: OK, before you start shouting at me, I want to make a couple of observations and then ask you a couple of questions, dear readers. First, did you notice in this chapter when Christian admitted, at least to himself, that he isn't a Dominant? If it's not already obvious to you that he isn't, it should be by now. Also, have you noticed how many times he has recognized that Anastasia is not a submissive? There's no denying that. So... what do you suppose this "disgusting and disturbing plan" of his could be? And how do you suppose that's going to work out for him?