Inauspicious

by annaleeta

Christian & Ana Grey's happy marriage explodes after Ana discovers her husband has returned to his predilections. Ana knows what she must do. This is a story of betrayal, heartbreak, friendship, & revenge. *COMPLETE*

22. Chapter 22

All rights to the characters and the story of FSoG belong to E. L. James

(This is the longest chapter of this story, and when I say long, I mean looooong. I could have divided it into two chapters, but after all of the trouble it was to finish this chapter and update it, I really did not want the bother. If I say I'll update on a certain day and then have important, real life issues with my child who has Autism, rest assured the last thing I care about is updating on that day or any other day.)

The Knife Is Getting Sharper

Sunday, July 26th, 2015

Seattle, Washington

Ana's POV

I knew this was wrong; but it felt so right.

It was what I had been missing.

It was nothing, something, and everything.

He ran his tongue along my lower lip and softly tugged it, eliciting a moan to escape my throat. Abruptly pushing me onto the bed, his hands grabbed the sides of my face, boring his eyes into mine. I felt a rush of warmth throughout my body and gasp as he kissed me violently. My mouth grasped a hold of his tongue and sucked it slowly. He is groaning, a sexy mixture of lust and longing, as his body hovered over me, and he pulled up my skirt in near desperation. Our mouths fiercely attacked one another and our panting broke the silence of the room. There was a vengeance between my legs and I opened them wider until he was firmly resting in between them. He sat up to drag his shirt over his head. My fumbling and trembling fingers were tearing at the button and zipper of his jeans, which he kindly pulled off for me, as he once again assaulted my mouth.

"Take off your shirt and bra," he ordered me, licking his lips.

Practically ripping them off my body, he roughly pushed my skirt up to my hips. Writhing, I desperately pulled my panties down. My hand pushed his head where I needed it to be. His mouth licked and teased my nipples and I moaned underneath his toned and firm body. He Inserted two fingers inside of me and I called out his name in a voice that was not my own.

"Please," I begged him, not understanding if my plea was for him to continue or to stop.

"Please, what?" He asked and lowered his body until his head was in between my legs. He nipped and sucked while I threw my head back and arched my back.

I was so close that my legs had begun to tremble. I pulled his hair, began to thrust my hips to meet his tongue, and panted out an incoherent version of his name. Just as I began to fall off the precipice that I was leaning over, his fingers must have felt my insides gripping them and he stopped, chuckling at my impassioned protest. My impatient hands pulled at his triceps to hurry him up as he slowly stalked up my body.

"You never answered my question. What do you want me to do to you?" His breathing was rushed. His chest was heaving as he gazed upon my face.

I knew he craved this as badly as I did.

"I need you inside me."

"I need to be inside of you," he hoarsely whispered on my lips, kissing me hard and fast. I tasted myself on his tongue and it enraged my blood.

Our eyes locked as he delicately slid into me, filling and stretching me.

Owning me.

With one hand on the back of his neck and the other tugging his hair, I pulled his head next to my ear and listened to his harsh breathing. He slowly moved in and out until I could no longer stand the slow pace.

"Faster, faster, please." I begged him while he hissed though gritted teeth.

I barely registered when he began to slam into me, groaning, and causing me to cry out. Our breathing was ragged and uncontained and I felt that familiar pulling sensation inside of me. Once again, he ravaged my mouth, only to rest his forehead on mine. I knew that we were seconds from letting go. The mixture of our lust ran down my thighs.

"That…there…Oh, don't stop…"

"Baby, I will never stop."

As I felt myself being torn from my body, I opened my eyes and gazed upon the ones that were studying my face. I felt his hot breath upon my forehead; once again, our eyes locked.

His eyes were glowing.

Intense.

Possessive.

They were gray.

At that very second, I jump in the chair I have been sleeping in and hear the thumping of Kate's fetal monitor. Looking around the room, I see my best friend sound asleep with Grace sitting in a chair across the room. Elliot is awake and sprawled out in a chair beside Kate's bed. I catch Elliot's eyes and see him grinning at me.

"What kind of dream were you having over there, little girl? Between the squirming and that moan that I heard…"

Grace glowers at her oldest son who is now laughing at me.

"Elliot Trevelyan Grey! I will not sit here and listen to you talk filthy to your sister-in-law! Of all the times in the world and your mind is in the gutter! Where did I go wrong raising you?" She scolds him. Looking at Elliot with a smile on my face, I shake my head. If Grace were not in the room, his goofy grin, and twinkling, blue eyes would have me laughing along with him.

Gazing up at the clock, I note that it is going on five in the morning and I stand up and stretch. The vivid dream I was having has left me disconcerted and confused. Of all of the men in the world, why would I dream of fucking Christian, when the conscious thought repulses me? Oh, well. Dreams are shit in my book anyway, although my psychiatrist is going to have a field day with this.

This is the third night of Kate's hospitalization since developing preeclampsia. Instead of the doctor's best efforts to stall its progression, it has only worsened and it appears that Emma Grace will be making an early appearance despite that Kate has just entered her thirty-fifth week of pregnancy. With a daily influx of Grey's and Kavanagh's descending upon Kate, whose medical condition has only exacerbated her naturally bitchy disposition, the families have decided to keep visitors to a minimum, although Kate has loudly voiced that this rule does not apply to me. As I know Kate probably even more so than Elliot does, I realize she wants me around so she stays aware of what I am up to. Not only is she pissed that she is missing "all the fun" as she described it, she also feels as if she has let me down somehow, which I told her was bullshit. From now on, I tell her the basics and am eat up with guilt that my drama caused her condition. God forbid I am the reason Kate's situation worsens and they have to take the baby earlier than the doctor's want, which is at least at the end of her thirty-seventh week. Even after Grace and Kate's OB explained to us how preeclampsia develops, I still feel guilty. For now we all sit around and wait. Wait to see if her condition worsens and cater to Katherine Agnes Grey.

I never had to mention that Kate and Elliot's pregnancy scare has been a blessing when it comes to Christian and me. We have made a handful of times to meet at the hospital at the same time and I have interacted appropriately considering our situation. I have attended a few high profile events with Christian, but only to keep public questions at bay and until Kate got ill, we still attended the Grey Sunday dinner together. Christian thinks I am simply getting over the situation concerning Elena and is oblivious to the truth. Of course, no family member has dared mention a word to either of us and I dare say they are terrified to ask. They are intimidated by Christian's raging fits and obviously perplexed that I no longer act like the Ana they are used to. With Christian having a couple of overseas business trips and me attending another out of town publishing conference, our contact has been limited to emails and texts with a few Skype sessions thrown in here and then. Overall, it is fucking pathetic.

It has been one month and eight days.

One month and eight days since Elena Lincoln's arrest.

One month and eight days since Christian's birthday.

One month and eight days since Carrick Grey led his wife to their car that was parked in our driveway and stormed back into our home. To everyone's awe Christian's father steamrolled his way into our family room and essentially grabbed his son by the scruff of his neck and ordered Taylor to escort him to Escala, where he has been ever since. Carrick berated Christian for his treatment of me in front of his employees and I swear that through my double vision I saw Christian cower from his father. Although I found it to be an immediate relief, as the days crept along, so did the questions concerning Christian's continued living quarters. The answer was simple enough, it all boiled down to the fact I discovered that Christian had been lying to me about his business affairs with Elena Lincoln. Well, the answer was simple to Elliot and Mia, considering that Carrick and Grace knew the disgusting truth. However, as weeks went by, I would often catch Elliot staring at me with eyes full of questions and Kate said that he had begun to badger her about what she knew. A week after GEH went under a spotlight of public scrutiny, Mia thankfully headed for a month in Fiji with Ethan. I could handle Elliot's unspoken questions, but Mia was another animal entirely. A prolonged and essentially vague separation of her brother and his wife would have resulted in non-stop questions. The duo did return, however, when Kate got ill, and obviously, Carrick and Grace must have instructed Mia not to inquire about Christian and me since she has been on radio silence. Ray handled the odd circumstances similar to Elliot, although he voiced that Christian lying to me for years over a sketchy business arrangement with Elena was a valid reason for my personal space in which to breathe.

Christian let the controversy over his business deal with Elena Lincoln pass for a few days before questioning my reasons to work through my feelings over the matter. Claiming that he could see my point of view and apologizing from both sides of his mouth, Christian did his best to sit on his hands and not interfere with how I was "hurting." I was hurt, although not over the fact that I was married to a grown man brainwashed by an old hag and pedophile. Not just a pedophile, but a woman who had molested him for years and he had remained in constant contact with her. When Christian's laid back and understanding attitude turned into his usual sulking and shutting down, he then became enraged when I still had not "gotten over it." It was this belligerent Christian that Carrick shut down. Our relationship has now settled into a distant albeit cool one. Luke informed me that when I told Christian I was in therapy, he told Taylor that therapy "should help me get over it." Luke was driving to Grey Publishing when he repeated the story and met my eyes in the rear view mirror while we laughed.

Despite his absence, Christian's control still knows no bounds and other than Taylor, the only other goons he took with him were Ryan and Daniels. I had prayed for Reynolds departure as I despise him and I bet my left tit that he is aware of Christian's behavior and is probably aiding Christian. Luke cannot find evidence to affirm my gut feeling, although he agrees with me. Even though I think Reynolds is a slime ball, he has proved no trouble for Kate and me as we spent time prior to her illness slipping my important belongings from the house. We had every piece of my ridiculously expensive jewelry out in three days and within a week and a half, I had removed most of my clothing. Kate had gone beyond my expectations furnishing what was my new home. My own goon squad rivals Christian's and I have already made it clear that while our relationship is professional, it will never be cold or impersonal as my husband's is with his employees nor will they call me anything other than Ana. Luke is second in command on Christian's payroll, while one of mine follows us covertly in case Judas is having me followed. For now my goon squad, or hot squad, as my super flirtatious best friend refers to them, live in a beautiful home on Lake Sammamish with four Cadillac SUV's in each of the home's garages. I bought the house in my daddy's name to keep everything under Christian's radar.

The only day that had me despondent and feeling like shit was the morning after Christian's birthday when Gail woke up and found her husband was not at home. She was aware of the basic bones of the Elena situation and after explaining how Carrick threw Christian from the house and Taylor went with him, I simply told her it was best for them both if she returned to Escala to be with her husband. The look on Gail's face was painful to bear and after thirty minutes of convincing her, Gail finally broke down and allowed Reynolds to take her to Escala. I knew that once she went with her husband that she would immediately see the lifestyle Christian had returned to and that it would break her heart. Gail is a shrewd woman and whether she begins to wonder if Taylor had previous knowledge of this is something time will only tell. I am positive that she knows what Christian has gone back to is the actual reason we are living a part. After Gail left, I felt completely alone and with that feeling came the knowledge that it would not only be Gail leaving my life. Dr. Swann tells me it is simply a life transition.

"Ana, look at it this way. People flow into our lives, taking away beautiful parts of us, and leave behind beautiful parts of themselves. We may lose these people's physical presence, but they will always live within us." Her kind eyes meet mine as if she is conveying a deeper meaning.

"What if I don't want them to leave me their beautiful shit? What happens when they all leave, which they are going to and I am alone and devastated? What then?" I whisper.

"Then you will grieve their loss, always love them, and move on," she quietly replies.

I am thinking about Dr. Swann's words, sitting on a pew in the hospital's chapel at six-thirty in the morning, a cup of cold tea in my hand. I am not particularly religious and I have not escaped into this sanctuary to pray for holy intervention. The truth of the matter is that I felt a need to escape a room I considered full of my loss. My future is meticulously planned, although those plans will probably involve palpable loss and an adequate amount of rejection.

The chapel is dim with fake fluorescent candlesticks lighting the room and has stain glassed windows. The first row pew grants me a direct view of a large cross on the wall and there is a Bible beside me. I sit my tea down and absentmindedly flip through the pages, reminded of my early years with Carla and vacation Bible school. I end up on 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7. Christian's grandfather read it aloud at our wedding. I look back at our wedding, it does not bring pain or tear me apart like it would have months earlier. What these Bible verses mean to me are what they are intended to and do not remind me how my husband broke each of them. The truth of the matter is that I no longer care. Protecting Ana is what matters to me and I will learn how to do that in a productive and healthy way. Drowning in self-pity and self-doubt are out of the question and my indifference to them both is like a door that I am slowly closing.

I hear the chapel door open, assuming it is Luke since he was standing beside it after I went in. However, my intense familiarity of my husband tells me it is Christian before he sits down beside me. I am confused that he is not in a suit until I realize it is Sunday. I smirk to myself once I realize the day, as I am aware that a Miss Haley Sams is currently at Escala. Their initial contract ended the beginning of July and they extended it for another three months. She must be able to take one hell of a beating. If Christian only knew their playroom time could be a best seller on a porn website.

Christian looks at the open Bible I am holding. "That is the passage gramps read at our wedding." There is a tinge of sadness in his voice.

Snapping the Bible shut, I toss it beside me and nod. "Yes. Yes, it was."

We are both staring at the cross in front of us, each lost in their own thoughts and not saying a word. A husband and his wife, a man and a woman, better yet, two complete strangers. We never truly knew who the other was. We both underestimated me and in different ways, we both overestimated him. Christian and I never played a game of cat and mouse, not even a game of chess. Yet, here we are, in a do or die game of chess, yet one of us has not realized it is now their move.

"Why are you here so early in the morning?" I ask.

"Sawyer told Taylor you had stayed the night and since I was already back from my morning run, I just headed over." Christian takes a hold of my hand. Weeks ago, his touch felt like scalding water, now I am capable of blocking any feeling out.

"How is Kate? I did not have a chance to speak with anyone last night." He asks me.

I know the reason that he didn't speak to any of us last night and his statement should amuse me. Instead, I pity this man. When he could have been at the hospital with us during what could be a dire family situation, he chose to fuck and beat his paid whore senseless. Christian is a man all alone in his mind, a man afloat at sea. He has unconditional love from so many people, although he turns away and rejects it. I do not concern myself with his issues though and do not search for the reason behind them. However, I do hurt for his family, and I would do anything to take the pain of Christian's rejection away.

"She isn't getting any better. Her blood pressure is not under control, her protein levels are outrageous, and she is unbelievably swollen. It is almost a sure thing they will take the baby sooner rather than later," I reply and Christian squeezes my hand, causing me to look at him in confusion.

Christian says nothing and we retreat into silence, as if we are both an island state. I am unsure as to why he is here or if there is something concealed behind his behavior. Knowing that I would never believe anything he told me, I do not bother asking.

He turns to me, a day's worth of stubble on his beautiful face and his gray eyes examine my face.

"Do you still think about us having a child, Anastasia?" He sounds earnest.

Every muscle in my body stills and my heart falls into my stomach. He either is playing some sort of sick game to fuck with my head or has lost his mind. I stare at him quizzically for some time and attempt to find an answer.

"No. No, Christian, I stopped thinking about that a long time ago," I reply, attempting to keep my voice as normal as possible and anger at bay. I can allow him to be curious about the change in my attitude while I fight the urge to stab him with the cross hanging from the wall.

Christian stares at me bemused and it is almost laughable. His gray eyes are intense as they bore into my blue eyes as if they are trying to get behind them and into my head. I am sure that he is trying to fuck with my head.

"Why did you change your mind? What I am really trying to ask is if you ever picture us having a child." Christian's voice is nearly inaudible and childlike. I am wondering if Miss Sams was the one wielding the cane last night and knocked him senseless.

"Hell, Christian, isn't it too early to be discussing such heavy shit? I changed my mind to focus on my career and because I feel too young to become a mother." I snap at him irritably and he looks surprised.

Christian does not speak for a while and disgust churns in my soul. I want to slap him across the face and then refer him to a good psychiatrist.

"How…How did you change your mind so easily? The want…how did that want you felt just suddenly leave?"

Shocked, I do not look at him because I realize that he is referring to something entirely different. Christian's incredible words bounce around my skull and my eyes are set on the chapel's carpet. All I can do is shake my head that I slowly turn to face him. His expression is one of pure and honest curiosity, as one who cannot comprehend such a thing as change.

"Why are you asking me this, Christian?" I ask in a soft whisper. I am incredulous. I am beyond angry. I am also curious.

Christian rests his elbows on his legs and places his head in his hands. Exhaling a long held breath, Christian runs a hand through his hair. His trademark move when he is stressed, angry, or confused.

"I'm not sure…but I believe it is because I have found out more concerning Elena and her past. I thought about you asking me how I would feel if she had done that to my son. Then one night I had a nightmare that we had a son that Elena got a hold of and it has been eating at me for days now. I have a nightmare every night since you have been gone," he replies quietly.

I scoff at him and ignore his words about my absence. "Well, just remember that Elena is still in jail and is looking at a very long prison stay. That horrid woman will not be torturing any more young boys. Nor will she brainwashing them into a life of BDSM with a need to beat women." I throw my venomous words at him and they resonate off the chapel walls.

Christian laughs bitterly, straightens up, and faces me. "Where were you when I was fifteen?"

A small part of me feels for this damaged man and I admit that his entire life has been spent in hell. Nevertheless, not everyone decides to live in that hell. Staying mired in it is a conscious decision. The rest of me realizes that his personal hell had no place being dumped onto my life. Do I wish him a smooth road for the rest of his life? Yes, I do. Does he deserve to free himself of the demons trapped inside of him? Yes, he does. Will I aid Christian to have these things? No, I never will, and yes, I am going to make him suffer the way he has made me suffer.

"When you were fifteen, I was younger enduring emotional and physical abuse that led to being raped at the age of eleven. I would not have been your savior. God knows that I never had one."

I can feel my anger shining from eyes, turning them from a pale cerulean blue into darkened navy and watching Christian's face, I can tell he has seen it as well; he is acquainted with the way my eyes look when I am furious. His gray eyes are wide and sad and I suppose it is due to his remembering my own personal hell. I pull my hand away and run it through my hair. Before either of us can say another word, the chapel's double doors suddenly open. Luke and Taylor are staring at us with grim expressions.

"Mr. Grey, Mrs. Grey, your sister-in-law has just been rushed into the OR for an emergency C-section," Taylor hurriedly tells us.

I do not hear nor do I see another thing as I sprint down a hospital corridor in search of my dearest friend.

Thursday, July 30th, 2015

Emma Grace Grey may have entered this world several weeks earlier than expected, but at a whopping four days old, she has already proven that she is a sturdy little bitch like her mother. This identical clone of her father weighed in at four pounds and six ounces and after three days in NICU, Katherine Grey's daughter already weighs five pounds and spends most of the time screaming her little blonde head off. Kate is perfectly fine and if she was not stoned on pain medication due to her C-section, I suppose her inner bitch would not have turned into a dog of Satan. It is amusing and annoying at the same time. I am irritable about what this day brings so l am about to leave after visiting Kate and the baby so I can hurry up and get this out of the way. I bid farewell to Elliot and Emma Grace and feel Kate's eyes on my back. She is aware of what I am off to do and has voiced her irritation at not being able to go with me for support. When I reminded her that I would have Luke with me, Kate told me to fuck off.

I open the door and nearly jump out of my skin when I walk right into Christian. Of course, he knows my schedule for today, although he believes I am going to Vancouver on GP business. After that meeting, I am flying to the east coast for a two-day publishing conference. Christian made sure the GEH jet was available for me to use.

Before I move out of the way so that Christian can enter the room, he bends down to kiss me on the cheek. He looks mouth watering good in a black suit, crisp white shirt and a silver tie. Offering him a patented shy smile, I reach up and give him a peck on the lips, simply for Elliot's benefit. Elliot stands to greet his brother and somehow manages to shake his hand while holding Emma Grace in his arms.

"You're here early, bro. Did ya bring doughnuts and coffee? Elliot asks in his usual jovial manner despite the fact his eyes are darting between Christian and me.

I suddenly question if I have made the wrong move too early in the game. It enters my mind that someone as close to Christian as Elliot is might notice the slightest odd behavior. Not to mention that behind Elliot's torn and dirty jeans from building homes lays an intelligent and quite astute man. Christian and Elliot may outwardly appear polar opposites, but they are both brilliant executives in their own right. Perhaps it is paranoia, but now I really want out of the room in which Kate and I are playing charades.

"No, fuck head, I didn't. I just thought that I would drop by on my way to the office. Anastasia told me she was coming by early before her trip and I thought I would see her before she left."

Elliot looks at me but ignores his brother's remark. It is unmistakable that he is desperate to know what is going on.

"How the fuck do you stand wearing those monkey suits day in and day out? I would be the only billionaire CEO in shorts and flip flips," Elliot teases Christian and Kate and I obligatory laugh.

"Fuck off, Elliot."

"Grey, don't use that language around the baby. I don't want her first word to be fuck," Kate snaps at Christian, making him laugh.

"Well, don't let the girls live with this giant idiot. He has been saying the word fuck since he was ten."

"Yeah, bro, and you were seven, so don't give me that shit," Elliot retorts.

I cannot take another second of this and feel the stagnant air around us. I am a breath away from a panic attack. "I had really better leave now. Being late for this meeting will make me look like one shitty CEO," I attempt to sound cheerful.

Three sets of eyes look at me and I know that Kate is doing her best to appear neutral and bored concerning my meeting.

"Just go then, Ana. Go by campus and flip off the dean for me," she giggles and I bend over to kiss her head.

"It's a deal. I will call you before I take off and when I land. Just quit bossing the nurses around and give poor Elliot a break. The man deserves the Medal of Honor for putting up with you."

"Be careful, Ana Banana and watch out for those college boys. Your still young and rockin' it," Elliot says, his eyes gleaming as Christian scowls at him.

I turn to Christian and look him in the eyes. Really, really, look in his eyes. I have not in so very long and I am positive that I will never do it again. At least not under a happy circumstance.

"I'm off now. I know that Sawyer will report every little detail to Taylor and that you'll know I'm alright," I say, my eyes still locked on those gray and reflecting pools.

"You're taking off around noon?"

"That's when I expect to. But you of all people know how long a monotonous meeting can run over."

"Just stick by Sawyer and do not try to ditch him, Anastasia. He is just doing his job and does not need you to make it harder on him," he says.

"Oh, okay, just as long as he lets me pee by myself," I say, giggling. I know that Kate must be dying trying to keep a poker face for Elliot's benefit.

Hands shoved in his pants pockets, wearing a halfhearted smile and actually confusing me with his expression, Christian nods at me.

For an unknown reason, I am compelled to touch his face, for probably the very last time and he leans into my touch. This shocking move on his part makes me wonder what the fuck? Then again, I remember, Elliot is present. I remove my hand quickly and Christian lowers his head and kisses me. Something that has not happened for some time now. I know that my cheeks are flooding into a blush and I am the one to break contact. If I am not mistaken, Christian appears bereft. I glance behind him to find that Kate has turned her head and is gazing out the window, while Elliot's eyes are locked upon us. Suspicion and his unspoken questions rest on those eyes, although he offers me a small smile.

"Okay, I really am leaving this time. Christian, I will call you before I leave and once I land."

"Okay, baby. Be safe and stay next to Sawyer," Christian says to me in an authoritative voice.

"I will. Do not worry. I will see you all in a few days."

God get me out of here.

My best friend and brother-in-law simply nod at me as I open the door to leave when Christian says something that stops me in my tracks.

"I love you, Anastasia."

Quickly glancing back at Christian, I smile and tell him that I love him too.

I am sitting across a large conference table watching Bee Darlington and Allison Kendall go over the information that had already been provided to them. I wanted all of that sick shit sent ahead of my appointment because I did not want to endure telling the tale or sitting through another porn video again. Bee Darlington is the founder and lead counsel of the law firm of Darlington, Kendall, and Colter. Mrs. Darlington is an attractive woman in her early fifties who could easily pass as a woman ten years younger. She looks more like a bored, rich homemaker when she is really a cutthroat attorney. Mrs. Darlington wasted no time for pleasantries and after shaking my hand quite firmly, I followed her into a large conference room. The firm's junior partner, Allison Kendall was already waiting for us. Allison Kendall is the attorney that I have been speaking and meeting with and we have gotten to know each other quite well, in fact, I would say that we have bonded. She is the one I confided in and had offered to help me. She is also the attorney who will be traveling with me in a matter of hours. Allison has an Ivy League education and a mile wide streak for rough justice. Physically, she is the complete opposite of her boss, mid thirties and attractive, but unlike Bee Darlington, her beauty is understated. She sees life through her glasses as a clear cut black and white. Although possessing a warm and welcoming personality, I have luckily found a woman who is not only book smart she is also street smart.

Both women smile and give nothing away. I would not expect Allison Kendall to react since she is aware of every dirty detail as well as what I have yet to share with Mrs. Darlington.

Mrs. Darlington finally speaks.

"Mrs. Grey…," she begins to say.

"Mrs. Darlington, please just call me Ana. I hate being called Mrs. Grey." I tell her and she smiles at me.

"Well then, Ana, please call me Bee. First off, it is nice to finally meet you face to face, although I do apologize for the circumstances that bring you here."

"It is nice to meet you as well. Please, do not apologize for anything. No one in this room has anything to be sorry for," I reply and do my best not to sound bitter.

Both women nod their heads and Ms. Kendall speaks up. "Ana, since speaking with you a few times already, I have a bit more knowledge of why you sought out our services. Along with Bee, I have meticulously gone over every document, and well, the other, let us say information that you handed over to us. Bee agrees it most certainly places your husband under a very disturbing light."

"Yes, Ana, I agree with Allison. Nevertheless, we are not here to make judgments on one's personal lives, we are here to serve our clients and ultimately get them what they are due. This question is redundant, but it is a divorce you are seeking, correct?" She asks and is making notes on a legal pad.

"You are correct, Bee. The evidence dating back to the very beginning of my marriage leaves no room for anything other than a divorce."

Bee Darlington removes her glasses and takes a sip of water before continuing. "So you haven't considered filing for a legal separation first?"

"Filing for a separation looks as though there is a chance of reconciliation. That is not the case in my situation. I want to begin divorce proceedings immediately."

Bee holds her hand up. "Well, let us fill you in on some things you should take into consideration before you say that you want to file immediately," she states.

"Okay, let us get some important details out of the way first. Mr. Grey, who despite is a CEO of a multi-billion dollar private company, never asked you for a pre-nuptial agreement, correct?"

I laugh as I think of Christian's stupidity. He must have really felt as if he had conquered his preferred way of life or had some sort of death wish. I do not let my thoughts linger on whatever it is that lives in Christian's mind. To do so is a colossal waste of time. He is nothing but fucked up.

"When we got married he told his lawyers that he trusted me and believed that our marriage was for life," I reply, shaking my head.

Bee is scribbling away with her Mont Blanc pen. "My legal assistant put in many hours scouring through Mr. Grey's assets along with your own. Washington State is a community property state as I assume you are aware. I need you to tell me what you know concerning his assets, properties, liquid cash, in order to determine if you have adequate knowledge of them. When it comes down to a situation such as yours, Ana, your knowledge is where your power lies," she says.

"You want to find out if he has kept assets hidden from me?"

Both women nod at the same time.

"Yes. Just write down on the legal pad concerning bank accounts, any stock holdings, shared or not, properties and even simple things as shared and private credit cards. We simply want to compare our findings with yours. It is no secret that in matters such as these that a spouse will keep certain things hidden," Allison says.

As I jot down everything that I know of, all I can hear is the ticking of the grandfather clock in the far corner. I am finished after what seems like forever and I give the women the legal pad, watching their eyes go from their findings to mine. Bee Darlington scratches her chin and looks up at me.

"It appears you are unaware that Mr. Grey has three additional bank accounts. He has two off shore and one in a Swiss bank. Is that the case or did you forget?" She asks me. I admit that for some reason I am surprised.

"I had no prior knowledge of those bank accounts. No, wait a minute. Wasn't it an offshore banking account that my husband was keeping Elena Lincoln's salons afloat with?" Now I feel stupid.

Bee purses her lips. "Unfortunately."

"Ana, I have no doubt you are aware that your husband is listed as the sixteenth wealthiest man in the country. However, I do wonder if you know his net worth?" Bee quizzes me, cocking her head.

"No, Bee. I have not the slightest idea. I have never seen anything concerning tax filings or anything like that. Christian's accountant handles everything to do with his and I have my own accountant due to Grey Publishing," I reply.

Allison quickly writes something on a piece of paper and then slides it my way. To say that I am flabbergasted would be an understatement. I knew that we were rich, but whoa, that kind of rich?

I place the piece of paper on the table and purse my lips, saying nothing since my mind just went into overdrive. Both attorneys' remain silent; I suppose to give me the time to process this bit of new information. New information? Whom am I kidding? This is outrageous information.

Allison breaks the silence. "Of course this is based upon all tax returns since Mr. Grey started his company. We also must take into account the monies we discovered in the three additional bank accounts that you had no prior knowledge of."

"Christian did file taxes on those bank accounts, didn't he?" I ask.

"Yes. I gathered a lot about your husband, but being stupid wasn't one of them."

"Ana, how many shared bank accounts do you have with your husband?" Bee inquires.

"Five. I also have my private bank account from my personal earnings at Grey Publishing. Christian also makes frequent deposits into the account," I reply.

"Are these deposits large ones? I ask this to know whether your husband was strict over money or had a liberal attitude with how you spent it."

"They were always substantial amounts of money and Christian has always encouraged me to spend our money. He always referred to his prior earnings as our money after we married."

"Hmm…We know about the account and your company being solely in your name along with your home." Bee continues her questioning and I just nod. "I will get back to these types of questions in a minute. Right now, I want to address what you said earlier about filing for a divorce immediately since you mentioned having five shared bank accounts."

"Okay."

"Despite having the advantage due to the lack of a pre nuptial agreement, once a divorce is filed and until it is settled, getting access to the money in each of those accounts can often be precarious. Because your husband is Christian Grey, in the beginning of this process, he is going to be the one with the advantage financially. Take into account that even though he walked into this marriage without protecting a dime of a mind blowing empire, until this is either taken care of in a courtroom or you both agree with some type of settlement, Grey will have the upper hand."

"Well, Bee, that sounds precarious. I assume, rather, I hope you're about to tell me a way to circumvent that from happening," I reply.

Bee offers a reassuring smile.

"Yes, I am, and I say this with the utmost importance and I suggest you do it right before you file for divorce. For one, your husband may discover your actions and secondly, if you don't do it before you file, then it will be illegal."

"What do I need to do then? Concerning the bank accounts, that is. I already know what I have planned for other things, but I will fill you in on that once you're finished informing me about all of this other important information."

Bee stares at me and I know it is because I said that I already had plans over certain other things. Yet, she lets it pass for the time being.

"Ana, we recommend, and we tell all of our clients this, we recommend that you go to each joint account and withdraw half of the money in it." Allison says.

"But, Ana, not until right before you file for divorce. Even if it is five minutes before this is filed and your husband is served. Once he is made aware, even without a pre nup, it could get messy for us. Well, at least for a small amount of time that is," Bee says.

I strum my fingers on the table before I speak. "I understand and that is what I will do. I should not have said immediately in the first place. Plus, I still want to sit down and tell his family first."

Bee and Allison simultaneously shake their heads vehemently.

"Telling your husband's family before withdrawing that money and filing for divorce is nothing more than you committing suicide. Even if you are closer to them than you are to God, go speak with them afterward. Go talk to them the minute after you file if you wish to. Under no circumstances do you talk to them before you file. Do you understand?" Bee asks in a most irritated tone.

While Bee and Allison's advice goes against how I wanted to handle it, I can look at the situation and know it makes sense. If Christian gets to them first and attempts to place me in the role of the bad guy, then so be it. I can only pray that they will look past it and remember who I really am.

I sigh deeply and agree to do what they say.

"Okay, Bee, Allison. I understand and will comply concerning withdrawing the money and talking to the Grey family. I also know that you have taken your time to explain to me what to expect when it comes to Washington being a community property state and that even without a pre nup it can be taken into court for a fight over a settlement. I'm fully aware that you feel as though you have to school me in all of this in case I have a last minute change of heart over what I have already told you I plan to do."

I point at the mid size box in the center of the table. The contents inside protected by bubble wrap, just as the boxes future contents will be.

"Both of you are fully cognizant of my situation. You have seen, read, and watched everything collected thus far. The only way I will have a change of heart concerning this is if I obtain a head injury. That said you know as well as I do that when my demands are presented to Christian that he is going to laugh in our faces. That box, along with what is yet to come, will have Christian Grey agree to everything. He is not going to know what hit him and I am going to walk away with everything that I want."

I step off the GEH jet five hours and nearly three thousand miles later. The minute the door opens, we are hit in the face with a sledgehammer of humidity. I have never understood how people can tolerate this kind of weather and am quite spoiled to the cool and dreary days of Seattle. Behind me are Allison Kendall and Patricia Hudson, a public notary and several of my personal goon squad. It seems that one Lucas Sawyer took a liking to Ms. Kendall as they sat together the entire flight talking and flirting with one another. Katherine was obviously correct that the situation with Luke was a simple hormonal reaction on both of our parts and neither of us has brought it up. We are once again a pair of feuding siblings where the older brother always wins.

After checking into the Henry Norman Hotel, I call Kate and Christian to let them know I arrived safely. Obviously, Elliot was not in the room since Kate was going on and on over what was about to happen. I do believe that in her mind, Kate believes I never survived until I was eighteen-years-old and met her. There is no doubt that her actual problem is that she is pissed she is not with me to witness this happy little fun time. Kate is only pacified when she is reminded that she will eventually be able to see it played out. Unable to reach Christian by his cell phone, I call Andrea who informs me that Christian is in the middle of a meeting. Since my IT guy, Craig Gibson had already informed me, this was nothing I already did not know.

Each of us women excused ourselves to freshen up and once we were finished, it appeared that Luke and the goon squad had sat around either picking their noses or eating their toothpicks. I had chosen the way I wanted to look carefully. I had no desire to appear as a wife, even if I am the wife of a billionaire. I wanted to look like the powerful CEO that I was, regardless if Christian taught me how to play the part. Disregarding the heat, I decided to wear my Stella McCartney black Faye top and black Etty trousers, also from Stella McCartney and put on my blood red Louboutin's. I want to be the woman in black. I pulled my long hair into a ponytail to display my four carat Tiffany solitaire earrings and slipped on the Aqua Terra Omega Master watch that Christian had given me for my birthday last year. My two many carats Tiffany engagement and wedding band weighed down my finger as I slid on a pair of black oversized Gucci sunglasses.

Samuel Winston, who was Luke's latest hire, met us in front of the hotel in a large black Suburban with three rows of seating and barely legal tinted windows. Luke was riding shotgun while Winston drove. I sat in the second row seat that was closest to the passenger door and Allison Kendall was sitting with another security member named Tom Hill in the third row seats. Every second of this had been planned, no detail left undone. Members of my security had monitored and studied each days schedule and routine. Pictures had been taken and I had studied them long and hard. Nothing could be missed and nothing was missed.

This next step is all mine.

Twenty minutes later, Luke gives me a reassuring smile and helps me from the SUV. I make my way to a small and forgettable brick building with three brick columns in front of it. I partially stood behind one of the columns, partly to get out of the hot sun as well as having the advantage of surprise. Luke, facing me, is standing beside the still open passenger side door. At the exact time as expected, I see a petite woman in workout clothes and holding a bottle of water approaching. Her once long brunette hair was now a pixie cut. I could tell from where I was standing she is quite short and I was pleased that I was in six-inch heels and would tower over her. I slowly walked to her and then stopped directly in her way. She had ear buds in, was looking down, and ran right into me. Jumping back startled, she raised her head quickly and looked up at my smiling face. I motioned for her to remove the ear buds and placed my entwined hands in front of me. I am positive she must have thought I was the grim reaper all dressed in black. Her eyes are wide with apprehension, although I remain in a non-threatening stance. I can tell from behind the jet-black lenses of my sunglasses that she has no idea who I am.

"Mrs. Declan, I presume?" I say and extend my hand for her to shake.

She says nothing and it is now that I finally see her take me in. Her eyes roam from the top of my head to my red Louboutin's and then to the Omega resting on my outstretched arm.

"Who are you?" There is a tiny tremulous vibration in her question and she still has not taken my proffered hand. Is it not a contradiction that a little sub does not like strangers? I will give her credit though; I would not be comfortable with a stranger approaching me either.

I slightly cock my head to the left and take a moment to look her in the face. Perhaps if her hair were still long she would resemble me the way she did in her photos from 2013. We both have petite and slight frames and pale skin. I am surprised that her eyes are eerily the same color as mine. It makes me want to gag.

"Hillary…You don't mind if I call you Hillary, do you?" I am wearing a warm and polite smile. "Hillary, my name is Ana, Ana Grey. I believe you know my husband Christian Grey?"

As long as I have lived on this planet, I have never seen a person pale as quickly as this paid whore slash mommy teacher did. I initially thought she was going to faint and a small part of me wished she would have. I continue to smile with my hand held out.

"What is the matter Hillary? Are you afraid to shake my hand? We both know it has been in the same places after all." I allow my face to appear friendly and my words to sting.

Hillary Wilkins Declan takes several deep breaths before finally shaking my hand. Her palm is sweaty and I hope the strong and firm handshake I am giving her hurts. Well, no, on second thought she would like a bit of pain.

"What do you want…What…Why are you here? Umm…Mrs. Grey?" She finally manages to stutter as she squares her shoulder and stands straighter. It amuses me. She is trying to appear as if a ghost has not reached out and touched her.

"Hillary, I have come a long way to see you. We have a mutual…interest, shall we say and I would very much appreciate your time," I say in my now patented CEO voice.

She shakes her head as if to clear it. "We don't have any mutual interests. I don't even know who you are or how you know my name."

I cannot help the unexpected giggle that escapes me. "Oh, Hillary! You can surely do better than that. You know exactly who my husband is as well as who I am. Since I know everything there is to know about you Hillary, I would appreciate if you would come back to my hotel so we can talk and take care of a few minor business issues."

"Business issues? What kind of business issues do you think I have with you? Like I said, I've never even heard your name before."

Hillary Declan finally notices the hulk that is Lucas Sawyer and the open vehicle door he is standing by. Jerking her head back to me with panicked eyes, Mrs. Declan looks as if she is about to yell out "Stranger Danger!"

"Listen, lady! I am not going anywhere with you. I do not know who you are and I…" I raise my palm up in order to shut her up. I step closer to her.

"No, you listen. I am not interested in wasting my time arguing with my husband's ex paid whore on the street. Like I have already stated, you and I have many things to take care of and I am a very impatient woman. If you make the wrong decision and do not get into that Suburban, I am going to ruin your fucking life. Do you understand what I am saying, Hillary?" I snarl at her.

Once again, she looks at the vehicle and tears fill her eyes. I am sure she never imagined a day like this would ever come.

"No one is going to hurt you, Hillary. There is another woman inside that SUV that would also like to speak with you and I guarantee your safety. Now suck up those tears and get your ass in."

The bitch still does not move an inch. I know she must be terrified and I know that I do not give a fuck. I am two seconds from grabbing her arm and pushing her skinny ass inside the SUV.

"No. I am not going anywhere with you and in case you do not know, this is kidnapping! I am seconds from screaming my head off!"

"I will make this easy on you. I have interesting medical records on you from a hospital in Seattle, not to mention every document, contract, and receipt from your time as my husband's paid whore. I cannot leave out several graphic and disgusting pictures of you with my husband's dick up your ass. Either get inside and spend some time with me in a lovely hotel penthouse or watch me throw gasoline and a match on your happy little life. If you think that I am fucking around with you, know I can cause you a lot more pain than my husband did when he broke your pitiful little arm."

With those words hanging over her head, and tears falling from Hillary Declan's eyes, she gets inside the Suburban for the quiet ride to my hotel.

I toss my sunglasses on a table and offer our guest a drink, which she declines. Allison gestures for us all to enter the suite's dining area and asks Mrs. Declan to take a seat at the table. I sit so close to the woman that I can practically hear her heart beating out of her chest. Across from us is Allison and Patricia, the public notary. Luke and Tom are standing silently in the background and serve more as a scare tactic. I sit in my chair so that my entire body is facing Hillary Declan. Allison places several large manila folders on the table and begins to talk.

"Hillary, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Allison Kendall and I am an attorney for Mrs. Anastasia Grey. Would you appreciate refreshment before we proceed?" Allison asks smiling.

The woman takes in everyone in the room and quietly declines Allison's offer as she did mine. She opens her own bottled water and takes a large sip.

"Beside me is Mrs. Patricia Hudson, who is a public notary…"

Hillary Declan looks across the table at Allison and Patricia; her panic rolling off in waves as she looks around the room for a way to escape.

"Why am I here? A lawyer…public notary? I want out of here now and I want a lawyer for whatever you people…" her voice is a high-pitched squeak and she begins to get up from her chair.

I sweetly smile at her, patting her hand as a gesture of reassurance when Luke steps between us and places a flash drive directly in front of Hillary Declan. Her eyes dart to me and I point at it with my chin. Since she was Christian's sub long before I ever knew, there is not any actual video evidence of the two and the drive is blank. However, Mrs. Declan does not know this.

"Mrs. Declan, please sit back down and make yourself comfortable. I promise you have no reason to be alarmed and no one in this room wants to harm you. Nevertheless, I do want to direct your attention to the computer flash drive before you. It shows you in several disreputable situations that I am positive you would rather keep secret from your husband and family," I say in a forthright manner.

We once again watch her already fair skin pale further and she sinks back down on the chair.

"What do you want from me?" She says quietly and is pretending to act as though I do not exist.

Allison Kendall takes a document from one of the folders and slides it across the table to Hillary.

"That is a document I know you are quite familiar with. It is a non-disclosure agreement concerning all and every moment of this evening. Sign it at the bottom where I have marked with an X." Allison is not asking her, but is telling her to sign it and she hands her a pen. We all watch her sign her name hurriedly and then lay her head in her hands.

"That's settled and now we can begin." Allison pulls out several more documents.

"Hillary, we know that on January 13th, 2013 you were taken to Swedish Medical Center in Seattle, Washington with a fractured arm that required surgery to repair it. I note that the repair called for two rods to be placed in your arm as well. Is this information correct?" Allison Kendall's voice is like a shard of ice and I see a twinge of disgust in her eyes.

Hillary Declan finally acknowledges me as she turns to me with a face of confusion; her expression is one that is beginning to crawl with realization. Looking back at Allison's impassive face, she nods at her.

"No, Hillary. A simple nod of the head is not sufficient. Will state your answer aloud for me?"

"Yes, all of that is true."

"Thank you. Now explain to us how your arm was broken and give a detailed and truthful explanation." Christian's former sub blanches at Allison's order and takes several deep breaths before she answers and looks at me again.

"Mrs. Grey, I don't want to…" she begins to say and I hold up my hand to stop her.

"You're not a stupid woman, Hillary, and you know why I am here and what I am aware of. Don't feel uncomfortable describing the BDSM relationship that you had with my husband."

She swallows hard and looks humiliated. There is no doubt that she is unaware of what we all think of her.

"My arm was broken…" She starts and then begins to weep. "My arm was broken while I was suspended from the ceiling," she whispers.

Allison would not settle for her vague answer and shakes her head. "No, Hillary. Describe what suspension means, the situation you were in that led to you being suspended from the ceiling, as well as who suspended you from the ceiling. Tell us where this occurred, why it occurred, and who suspended you from the ceiling. Leave no stone unturned."

Allison Kendall is quite scary and I am pleased that Katherine chose her law firm for me.

Hillary exhales deeply and tears stream down her face. "My arm was broken during a BDSM scene where I was in full suspension from the ceiling. In the scene, I was fully suspended vertically by chains but I was wearing suspension cuffs. During, during…" She quickly glances at me with guilty mortification. "I was having sex as I was suspended and somehow I either turned my arm or the chains were pulled from the… motion and we heard my arm snap. I was having a scene with Mr. Grey, umm, Christian Grey and it was Mr. Grey who suspended me at a condominium in Seattle."

"Did Christian Grey take you to the hospital?" Allison asks.

Hillary Declan shakes her head. "No, it was the man who would drive Mr. Grey around. I think he was some sort of bodyguard."

Allison shows Hillary Declan a picture of Jason Taylor. "Is this the man who took you to the hospital?"

"Umm…Yeah, that is the one, the man, I mean. He also picked me up and drove me to the condo once I was discharged from the hospital."

"Hillary, did Mr. Grey ever visit you during your hospital stay? Did he ever call you or send you flowers, contact you in any way?" Allison continues.

Hillary Declan wipes the tears from her cheeks. "Never, not once."

Suddenly, curiosity gets the best of me. Taylor could not have driven this woman around Seattle the entire time she was out there. She did have the Audi that Christian bought her, but who showed her around Seattle enough that she was able to drive it around on her own?

"Excuse me, Allison; I just wanted to ask Mrs. Declan something. Do you recall anyone, other than the man in the picture that drove you around Seattle? I am aware Christian bought you an Audi and I am curious as to how you learned to get around, considering how large of a city Seattle is."

Mrs. Hillary Declan, eyes centered on the table, and brows furrowed, is visibly concentrating on my question.

"Mrs. Grey…The man in the picture did not pick me up at the airport nor did he deliver the Audi. That man was quite younger. This younger man took me to some salon several times and to Neiman Marcus. I did have the Audi, but when I kept getting lost, I just quit driving it," she says.

My intuition was right-another security member knows.

"Can you remember enough about this younger man to describe his physical appearance?"

She scrunches up her nose a bit while she tries to remember.

"Eh…I would say early thirties, dark hair, as in practically black, built like the guys in this room" She motions toward Luke and Tom.

I knew it. Reynolds. I want so badly to turn to Luke and say something yet I know that I cannot. Fucking Reynolds.

"Well, what did you do with the Audi when you left Seattle?" I ask.

"I left it right where it was and took a cab to the airport."

I just nod my head and turn around in my chair to face Allison.

My face is completely blank and instead of having a desire to beat this woman's head into the table, all I feel is indifference. Even though I had a wild guess as to how her I arm was broken, I admit that hearing the details made me feel like running to the bathroom and throwing up my lunch. My feelings did not stem from pains of Christian's stinging betrayal; they had grown from a place of disgusted indifference. Being in love with my husband had slowly become an anamnesis. Sitting beside his former sub and listening to her describe the actual man that I was married to was not pleasant, but it was not torturing me with feelings of inadequacy deep into my soul.

Allison's eyes ask if I can stand for her to continue and I barely move my head to assent.

"Hillary, did you purchase this condominium you mentioned? If not, tell us who did and whose name is on the deed," Allison asks.

"Christian Grey bought the condo for me while I was living in Seattle. The deed was in my name. I assume that I still own it."

Despite knowing the answer, Allison taps her pen on the table thoughtfully. "You said, while you were living in Seattle? Are you not originally from Seattle? If not, where are you from?"

Hillary Declan starts to chew on her lips. "I am from here; Brooklyn, New York, I mean."

"Hmm…" Allison plays dumb and taps the pen against her lips. "So explain how and why you ended up in Seattle and how long you lived there? Do not forget specific details either."

"I, I moved to Seattle after meeting Christian Grey at a BDSM club in Manhattan. We…We did a scene the night that we met and Mr. Grey requested a meeting with me the next day with an offer to contract me as his submissive. He knew that I lived here and the contract stated that he would relocate me and pay for all my expenses along with purchasing me a place to live. He bought me a condominium close to a penthouse that had been his previous home." Hillary Declan's shoulders shake as she attempts not to cry. She turns to me and is using both hands to wipe tears from her eyes. "I am so sorry, M, Mrs. G, Grey, I…"

"Just continue, Hillary. I am fine, I assure you." I say. I may be fine but I am looking back at that year, that month, and digging through my mind to remember when Christian was in New York. I shake the thought away. It is just beating my own self up.

"We, we had scenes at that penthouse and at my condominium after he converted a room into a playroom as he referred to it. I left New York for Seattle a week or so after that meeting. I believe it was in November. Our contract was for three months, which was not extended after my injury. I never saw Mr. Grey again after the night my arm was broken. After I was discharged from the hospital, I had a private nurse stay at my home. I knew that Mr. Grey must have arranged that. Oh, this is stupid, but he also had someone go and feed my cat. I left Seattle the second I could travel and I have never put a toe into Washington State since 2013. Not even to sell the condo when I know how much money I could get for it."

Hillary Declan's story is a rush of what feels like a confessional. No one in the room moves or says a word and it is not from surprise, it is only to make this woman feel uncomfortable.

Allison Kendall tosses her pen on the table, leans back in her chair, and crosses her arms.

"Thank you for filling in those missing blanks, Mrs. Declan. Although we possess the actual contract between you and Christian Grey, we wanted additional and specific details. When did you begin to take part in the lifestyle of BDSM?"

"I was eighteen. A freshman in college." she murmurs.

"How many Dominants have you had? Be clear and tell me if they were before or after Christian Grey."

"What is that to you?" Hillary Declan asks haughtily.

"Let us remain civil, Mrs. Declan. Please just answer the question," Allison replies.

Hillary Declan appears ready to stand and stomp her little feet at Allison. I note Tom had to turn his back to us to hide his laughter.

"I had three Doms that I did have a contract with prior to Christian Grey. Due to my experience with Christian Grey, I never took part in BDSM again."

Allison gives another document to Hillary who quickly scans it with wide eyes. Allison smirks at her reaction.

"Are those men listed on that document your previous Dominants?"

"Yeah. Yes, they are," she replies slowly. "How did you find this out? What is this really about?"

"Would you please read their names aloud along with the dates you were contracted with them?"

Hillary looks terrified by Allison's request. "I, I, I cannot do that. I signed an NDA with each of them." She sputters.

Allison leans on the table with a play or pay expression on her face. "You also signed an NDA with us. Those men will not know you have broken your NDA's with them. Now please do as I requested."

Feeling like laughing at Allison Kendall's intimidating personality, the moment Christian's former sub starts rambling about former Dom's, I zone out. I am getting antsy because I am more interested in the two things I am going to do. More than anything I am going to enjoy showing her a few of the pictures I took from Christian's safe. The situation with Christian's missing sub files and those so-called insurance photos has become an endless source of enjoyment for Luke and me. From what he has told me, Christian is so paranoid at this point that he would probably consider hiring the FBI to come in to figure out who managed to get into Escala and get the goods on him. Kudos to Luke for being so intelligent and knowing how to get us in and out of there undetectable. I am also very pleased with myself for remembering to wipe my fingerprints off that cabinets handle along with the safe combination. I have discovered that watching highly intelligent men run around in circles trying to figure shit out is a highly enjoyable pastime.

I am torn from my thoughts when I hear Allison repeatedly saying my name. Quickly remembering that I get to have some fun, I open up my MacBook and turn my attention to Mrs. Pixie Cut.

"Hillary, we know that my husband opened a bank account for you and deposited nearly three hundred grand into it. We are also aware that it was never closed and that you are still withdrawing funds from it."

I believe this woman just stopped breathing.

"Luckily for you, I also have an account at the very same bank. Isn't that a crazy coincidence? Do you bank online Hillary?" I ask, smiling ever so sweetly.

"Yes," she replies, looking shocked.

I click on a bookmark that I created especially for Mrs. Declan. It goes to the banks website. I lock eyes with her and feel like a cauldron bubbling with anger.

"Good, then you're familiar with all the things you can do online when it comes to banking?"

Hillary's blue eyes have hardened with what I assume to be suspicion. "I suppose. My husband handles most of our online banking." Ah, her tone is defensive and that means she knows what she is about to do.

"You mean your husband handles the online banking account that the two of you have." I bite back. She sits still as stone and does not answer me.

"Since we are aware of every transaction you have made with the account my husband set up for you, we also discovered that you handle it primarily online. To me that screams that you are familiar with what you can do while banking online."

The woman stays mum and I smile brighter as I push the MacBook to her.

"Since you are not blind, you can see this is the banks website. I need you to log into your account," I tell her. I have thrown my fake smile down the garbage disposal and my words are brusque.

Hillary Declan's face begins to redden and we are all aware it is from anger. She has purchased too many expensive items with the money in that account. She sure as fuck does not want to lose it. She raises her chin in defiance and everyone in the room waits to see what happens next.

I get in her face with eyes of concrete disgust.

"As an ex paid whore you are aware that disobeying an order results in a punishment. I may not be your Dom... I can escort you to a place where it would just be you…and me."

Pixie Cut's eyes widen with fear and frantically looks around the room for someone to offer her some aid.

"You do not really believe anyone in this room gives a fuck if I drag you into the next room by your hair, do you?" I hiss. Despite that I am only fucking with her to do as I say, I am aware that I could drag her in the next suite and beat the dog shit out of her and no one would notice.

Allison catches my eye and mouths the word "wow" and I smirk at her.

"Mrs. Declan, look at me." I instruct her and she quickly complies. "I am giving you another chance to do as I told you. Log into your fucking account. Now."

Within the span of a minute, the laptop is back in front of me and I have transferred every cent of the nearly two hundred grand into the account that my new IT head, Craig, created for me yesterday. Logging out of her now empty 'I am a paid whore bank account', I close the MacBook and hold my hand in Allison's direction. She silently reaches over the table to give me one of the manila folders.

Hillary Declan is staring down in her lap. Losing that money must have hit her hard.

"For fucks sake, Hillary, get over it! It was just a little money! You are looking down all submissive like when there is no one in this room with a desire to ram a ten inch dildo up your ass." My words cause the room to erupt in laughter. However, our dear Hillary is not amused. Her face is once again blood red and the veins in her neck are actually showing. She has started twisting her now empty water bottle.

I take a document from the folder, place it in front of her, and hold out a pen. Mrs. Declan does not look at the document nor does she take the pen. I am really getting sick of looking at this bitch. I told them I would not hit her. I told them I would not hit her. I told them I would not hit her.

"Read the document on the table," I tell her irritably.

She finally scans the paper and then picks it up, reading it once more, scrutinizing its every word. Hillary looks at me and opens her mouth to say something but I cock my eyebrow and her mouth snaps closed.

"Hillary, do you know what that is?" Allison Kendall asks her, sounding as annoyed as I feel.

"Of course, I do. It is the deed to the Seattle condominium that I own," Hillary says nonchalantly.

I scoff at her and remain in her personal space. "The one you own but are too afraid to enter Washington State and sell?" I ask which obviously embarrasses Hillary.

"You are selling me the condominium, Mrs. Declan. Take this pen and sign on the dotted line. Do not think I am asking."

The word selling sets off a light in Hillary Declan's eyes. Evidently she believes she is about to come into a chunk of my change. Stupid, stupid whore.

"Sell it? Well, I do not care to unload it since I will never use it. How much are you paying me for it? That was a million dollar condo and now it must be wor…"

Rolling my eyes, I laugh and call for Luke. I hold out my hand to him. Luke remains standing behind us. The room can hear the clinking of coins as Luke pulls them from his pants pocket. He places the coins in my hand. Pixie cut's face is full of confusion.

It is when I toss four quarters in front of her that her expression changes. She watches them bounce on the table incredulously.

"A dollar? You think that I am selling you a million dollar condominium for a damn dollar? You people think that since I have spent way too much of my time telling this woman the truth about her husband that I am going to…"

Luke's hand on my shoulder is the only thing keeping me from punching her in the face. I am sure my nostrils are flaring when I jump to my feet and slam both of my hands on the table.

"You have not told me shit about my husband that I do not already know you skank ass whore! You are selling me that condominium for a dollar and we all know that is much more than your wore out ass is worth! I bet that when your pathetic husband fucks you he thinks he is throwing a hot dog down a goddamn hall! Now pick up that fucking pen and sign it!" I scream at her venomously and cause her to jump. Luke squeezes my shoulder softly.

" .Hillary." I am so fucking enraged that I can barely hear Allison telling her to sign. Just the very second my anger begins to dampen; my ears hear Hillary's angry retorts. How fucking dare this bitch? My fury-fueled determination has set me aloft.

I point my finger inches from her face. "Are you aware of what we have on you? One flick of my wrist and your world will never be the same. I strongly suggest you sign the god damn paper," I tell her in my now hoarse voice.

Hillary Declan then causes all of us to look at her in amazement. "You people do not have shit on me!" she yells at us.

We are honestly too bemused to speak. Have we not already proven we know so much about her that we even know what time she takes a shit? I suppose that now she has given me no choice. I was hoping I would be able to do this all along. I pick the fucking folder up and place six photographs of her on the table. They look worse than the originals because Kate had them enlarged. I am physically and mentally exhausted from this entire day. Sitting back down, I just stare into space and allow the silence of the room envelope me.

My reverie is split apart with the sound of Hillary Declan's convulsive sobbing as she stares at herself in each damning photograph. The fact that no one in the room cares to comfort her warms my heart. I pick up the pen and hold it out for her. She is crying hard enough that she cannot see clearly and misses the outstretched pen when she attempts to take it. Placing the pen in her hand, I lean close to her ear and whisper, "Suck it up, and sign it."

After several minutes of calming herself down, Hillary Declan finally signs the deed and I am the new owner of a million dollar condominium in downtown Seattle. Without doubting whether Hillary would sign the deed, I hired a construction company to gut the place and to start this morning. My imagination drifts to when Christian attempts to take Miss Sams there and finds it being torn apart and then losing his shit. I also know it will add fuel to the mystery person who got into Escala.

Since I am done with how I wanted to torture Christian's whore, Allison Kendall resumes control of the room to introduce something that Mrs. Declan will not like at all.

"Are you okay, Hillary? It may appear that we are here to coerce you into doing things against your will, but that is not our goal. We are only here to right the many wrongs that you were involved with. I sincerely mean that and apologize for your distress," Allison tells her in a calm and quiet manner.

Hillary stares at her with a tear stained and blotchy face. "I would be better if I was not here. My husband expected me home two hours ago and is probably going out of his mind. I need to go home."

Her words stir something inside of me that surely must replicate the feeling of the blast on Hiroshima.

"Did your whore ass ever consider that I was expecting Christian to come home while you were his sub? I have read the contract you signed and you knew he was married. You fucked my husband knowing he was a married man and due to the fact you are without morals, you did not give a shit. Your lack of morals and sick lifestyle allowed you to be Christian's rent a whore and receive what he provided you monetarily. You accepted an Audi, jewelry, expensive clothing, money, and a place to live in order for Christian Grey to fuck and beat you senseless. That makes you a well-compensated whore. You know that don't you. The only thing that separates you from a common streetwalker is that you derive sick pleasure in being beat until your arm is broken. You sicken everyone in this room and if you believe we give two fucks about your husband worrying about you or that you even have a husband, you are a fucking idiot," I scream at her as I think of the cold disregard that she had for my marriage.

I would never lay full blame at the feet of these women, but in the end, they were all aware Christian was married and signed contracts where he outlined that fact very clearly. I do not wish death on any of Christian's subs, but I will dish out as much damage I possibly can. Unfortunately, for Hillary Wilkins Declan, she will feel that damage. Once my unexpected tirade is over, we are all aware that Craig, the brainiac I hired as my IT guy has stopped the recording we have made of our illuminating time with this bitch. We cannot have any visual proof since our masterpiece is a step from the boundaries of the law.

My impassioned description of Hillary Declan has once again reduced her to tears. Allison ignores her and begins leading her down our path. I remain silent. This act belongs to Allison Kendall.

"Mrs. Declan, have you ever heard of an affidavit?"

She stares at Allison Kendall blankly, her face frozen. Gasping, Hillary Declan grabs the arms of her chair and slides it backward. From the corner of my eye, I watch Luke place his foot against the leg of the chair to keep it from moving any further.

"I know what an affidavit is…Why are you asking?" Her words are barely audible and her face a ghastly white.

Allison once again ignores her and holds up another document for Hillary Declan to see.

"You may be familiar with the term, but I still want to explain exactly what an affidavit means and what they are used for." Allison's tone is curt, professional and her body language has changed in order to intimidate the woman before her.

"Mrs. Declan, an affidavit is a written sworn statement of fact voluntarily made by an affiant, which you are. An affiant is a person who has the intellectual capacity to take an oath and has knowledge of the facts that could be in dispute by another. Considering that you have truthful and firsthand knowledge of the events that took place on January 13, 2013, you are going to write down every detail that you have already described to us. In order for an affidavit to be valid and legal, before you begin with your written statement, you will have to take an oath affirming your statements are true. That is why Mrs. Patricia Hudson is present. Any public officer who is authorized by law to administer an oath, such as a public notary, may administer the oath. As Mrs. Hudson is a public notary, she will be administering your oath."

Hillary Declan's unease has turned into hysterics as she realizes what we want from her. Her back is in a corner and she knows it. I notice that she is digging her fingernails into her arms.

"W, why are you doing this to me…What good…What is this for?" She stammers, turning to me, although my eyes are on the far wall.

"Hillary, Hillary!" Allison snaps yanking Hillary Declan back into the present. "We are not doing anything to you. This is about something else entirely and we hope using this affidavit will never become necessary."

"Please, Mrs. Grey! Why are you doing this to me? I am so sorry…I swear that I am so sorry!" Her chest is heaving with sobs, her words nearly incoherent. I say nothing and continue staring ahead.

"You need to calm down, Mrs. Declan and please address me and leave Mrs. Grey alone," Allison snaps.

Laying her head on the table, it takes Hillary Declan several minutes to stop weeping and raise her head to look at Allison. She sucks in a gulp of air.

"Oh, my, God…Is this for civil or criminal use? Do you actually expect me to put my face out to sue Christian Grey? You want me to press assault charges on Christian Grey? Are you crazy? She yells in a shaky voice and is scrunching her eyes tightly, dreading the answer.

"That is none of your concern," Allison replies.

Christian's ex fuck slams both of her hands on the table and we once again get a glimpse of her defiance. I catch Allison raise an eyebrow at her in amusement.

"The fuck it's not! I am out of here! Who gives a fuck if you used those pictures and that contract to get that money and condominium? That is all bullshit from my past and you can all fuck off!" She actually snarls at us, and attempts to push her chair back so she can leave. Luke's foot resolutely keeps it from moving.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Hillary Declan screams at him once she notices what he has been doing. I giggle at the smug smile Luke gives her.

I am so sick of having to sit by this woman, her bad haircut, and Danskin workout clothes. Sighing in an ever so bored fashion, I finally stand, take the remaining paper from the manila folder, and position myself directly behind our Catholic not so do gooder.

"Craig, bring it out now," I call out. Within seconds, he hands me another flash drive. This one is not blank. Luke's muscular arm reaches down and slides the MacBook in front of Hillary Declan's face and I slide the drive into the laptop.

It starts the moment we all entered the room and is full of every sick and detailed thing this woman has told us. Everyone can see her begin to tremble.

I lean down and place my mouth very close to her ear. "Would you enjoy explaining that to your husband?" I whisper and her shoulders slump.

Yanking the drive out of the computer, I cross my arms and begin to pace, but still hold that last sheet of paper.

"Hillary, you seem to have forgotten my words from earlier. I was not joking when I said that I could fuck your life up. What you just watched was how you gave me yet another way to fuck you up further. Would you like to see what I have here?" My pacing halts directly behind her and she does not answer me. Bending over, I rest one of my arms on the table and place the paper I have been holding in front of her.

"Do you see all of that, Hillary? Do you see every name on that paper? Have you noticed your in-laws names, addresses, and phone numbers? Yes, I know that your father-in-law is a well-known attorney in Manhattan and I have his firms address, too. Let us see whom else, shall we? This is your parish priest and here is that tight ass Catholic school you and your husband work at. Oh, yes, your husband."

I pause long enough for it to all sink in.

"Yes, Hillary, I can send all of those people every document I have, as well as this flash drive. Oh, let us not forget those lovely photographs that my husband took of you, the contract between you and Christian, that precious list of your soft and hard limits…anal and vaginal fisting was your only hard limit? Whoa, girl, that is impressive! But, please, do not worry that I would actually do that because I wouldn't Hillary, do you know why I will not do that to you?"

I finally get a response out of her when she shakes her head and I drape an arm around her shoulders.

"Well, I would never do that because I am absolutely positive that you are minutes from standing in front of Mrs. Hudson and taking that oath. I also know that once you swear under oath that what you write on that affidavit is truthful, you are going to write it all down. I will give you a moment to consider all of this. Take your time to make your decision, Hillary."

Allison has already pulled out the affidavit form. I also see that Mrs. Hudson has her stamp with the needed official seal in front of her. I can only say thank God that Allison Kendall's maiden name is Hudson. I would have never been able to bribe a public officer to officially seal this affidavit since Mrs. Declan is no longer in our jurisdiction. I clearly realize that I am no longer the same guileless woman I was a few months ago, but I still have morals. Making the affidavit retroactive to February of 2013 and using her previous Seattle address will be taken care once we get rid of this Mrs. Declan. However, that action does not seem immoral-it is necessary.

Standing beside Luke, my eyes dart around the room and stare at each impassive face. The men Luke has surrounded me with look hardened and as if they are protecting the President. I actually feel guilty that they had to stand for hours and deal with this bullshit. Luke promised that I had garnered their complete allegiance after they were shown what his ghost of a friend enabled us with. Looking at them, I still scoff to myself as I imagine they will also be loyal due to the lofty financial incentives I will provide them with. My own pessimistic thought makes me frown. I refuse to allow the behavior of Christian Grey skew my view on trusting other human beings and seeing the overall goodness in them. Let his mind be a fuck up. I will never allow him to cause mine to become one.

All of two minutes pass before I see Hillary Declan stand up on shaking legs and Allison Kendall and Mrs. Hudson smile and rise from their chairs. They have both been sitting for so long that I can only imagine how numb both of their ass' are.

"Hillary, did you make a decision." Allison asks her.

"It isn't as if I've got any choice in the matter," Hillary sounds both defeated and bitter.

Allison Kendall ignores yet again. "Please, come and stand beside Mrs. Hudson and she will administer you the oath. Then we can get on with you filling out the affidavit."

I watch the woman tentatively get up and glance at me sideways as she passes by. My face is completely void of expression. I do not offer a hint of animosity. Once I hear Mrs. Hudson begin to explain the consequences of taking this oath and then not being truthful, I exit the room and leave Luke to oversee the rest.

Entering my private suite, I flop on the bed and cover my face with a pillow. My entire body feels as though it has been weighed down. I feel tears rushing to the back of my eyes and I inwardly snarl at them to go away. They are not for my husband or our joke of a marriage; they are not even for that bitch in the next suite. They are for all of the bullshit I have put so many others through. Luke has offered me his entire career and possible reputation if Christian decides to ruin him. My best friend in this world is on the other side of the country lying in a hospital bed recovering from a God-awful complication to her pregnancy that could have killed her and Elliot's daughter. Plus, right at this very second, I know that Katherine is worried sick over me and what is going on here and probably being a total bitch to Elliot and everyone else around her. There is one of my attorney's in that other suite doing things that could get her disbarred and her mother possibly jailed. And to add on to all of that, I have got to walk into the home of my in-laws and tell them that I am divorcing their son, knowing what it will do to Grace and that my relationship with them will be forever changed. I will always have to lie to my father to keep him from killing Christian and I do not have a mother's arms to comfort me. Fuck, now I feel as though I am making myself a victim and that is the last thing I will ever become.

Shit, I need to talk to Dr. Swann.

Reaching for my cell, I see that I have fourteen texts from Kate and three missed calls from Christian. Not knowing if Elliot is nearby and could read any text that I send Kate, I quickly text her a very vague message that she will understand.

"All is well here. I've just left a long but productive meeting. Rest and give Emma Grace a kiss for me. I will see you soon. xoxo" I hit send.

Although I am curious as to why Christian called me three times, I do not even consider calling him back. However, I do call Dr. Swann. It is still early on the west coast and she should still be in her office. I am fortunate and my call is put straight through.

"Hello, Ana. I hope you are not calling to cancel this week's appointment." I am immediately calm once I hear her voice.

"Hello, Dr. Swann. I am not calling to cancel. I just wondered if you had a spare moment to speak with me. I seem to be having one of my self-induced moments as we call them."

"Well, you are in luck, Ana. So, what is going on with you? Your voice is giving you away," she prompts.

I stare up at the ceiling and attempt to articulate what I want to say.

"Ana, I assume this is not a social call."

"No, Dr. Swann, it is not. It is just that my life…just that my life suddenly weighs more than the Space Needle. I feel suffocated from guilt and back in the hole of being a victim of the world. I suppose I called for you to help me," I whisper.

"Ah, I see. Do you want me to help you or pull you out of that hole instead of doing it yourself?"

Her words cause me to frown from frustration. Sometimes I find this therapy to be full of shit questions for which I have no answers.

"Since you have put it like that, Dr. Swann, I guess the truth is that I wanted you to do it for me," I reply.

"I see. Now tell me what is really going on."

Pinching the bridge of my nose, the dam of truth blows wide open and I recount the day's events, from the fucked up dream about Christian to my thoughts that led me to call her. Dr. Swann gives me an hour of her time, questioning my every thought, emotion, and the honest motive for being in Brooklyn, New York. My mind seems as though I cleaned it up by talking things over with my psychiatrist, although lingering questions still hover in the back of my mind. All of this shit has exhausted me and after closing my eyes, I fall asleep.

Craig knocking on the door awakens me. He is carrying a black case like the one I used to carry my manuscripts in. I move out of his way so he can enter the room. Nodding at me, he begins to take out several large padded envelopes that have already been addressed and lays them on the bed. Despite knowing how thorough and meticulous Craig is, I count each envelope to make sure we are not missing one.

"Don't take this as an insult, Craig, but each one contains everything as requested?"

"Yes," he replies and smiles at me. An infectious smile that I cannot help but return.

"And you erased the hotel's CCTV footage of when we came in with her?" I have had enough of saying her name.

"Yup. It was the first thing that I did once you all entered the suite and I will wipe it out again as she exits the hotel."

I nod my approval, gazing at one certain envelope and without looking at him, I ask Craig to send Tom in. Reaching down, I pick up the envelope and wait for Tom. I have to agree with Kate when she says that Tom is the best-looking man on the security team. Around six foot three and nothing but muscle, with his wavy brown hair and green eyes; it is enough to make the panties of a nun wet. Tom steps in the room and I push away my dirty little thoughts.

"Craig said you wanted to see me, Ana," he says.

"Yeah, I did, Tom. Luke said that you're taking her home."

I receive a subtle nod and notice that he is staring at the envelope in my hands.

"I have a favor to ask you. I know you are dropping each of these in the mail after you take her home, but I have a concern about this certain envelope," I tell him.

He looks at whom the envelope is addressed to and gives me a knowing look.

"The husband?"

I nod. "It just occurred to me that if it is sent to their home address she might intercept it in the mail," I reply.

Tom's lips curl into a small smile. "I had already thought about that, Ana," he says and I have to laugh at my own ignorance.

"We aren't leaving until tomorrow evening and I know you were one of the guys who came out here to stake out their routine. I assume the husband is on his own some time during the day?"

"Yes, he is, several times a day. He watches the kids while she goes to work out and vice versa."

"Okay, that's very good to hear. I want you to do something for me before we leave town." I say and he smiles at me again.

"You want me to hand deliver it to him."

I flush as I return his grin.

'Yes."

"No problem at all, Ana. I have your back," he tells me.

"Thank you, Tom. How much longer until they are done?"

"They already are. I was getting ready to take her home when Craig told me that you wanted to see me."

Rubbing my forehead, I exhale a deeply held breath.

"We got it all, right, Tom? I mean, we have everything that we need. Did I forget anything?" I ask.

Tom looks at me sympathetically, as if he senses I am about to break in half.

"Yes, Ana, we have it all. You didn't miss a thing and you never have to deal with her again." he replies.

Suddenly, I burst into laughter. "Can you fathom that she actually believes I wouldn't send this shit to fuck her life up?"

He chuckles and my eyes are glued to the way his fingers are scratching his chin. "To be honest, fuck no, I cannot understand that. She is in for one hell of a shit storm."

We continue to laugh and I head to the window and stare at a street lamp.

"Just lay the envelope to Mr. Declan on the dresser and you can give it to him tomorrow and mail the others after you drop her off."

"I'll get the skank out of here now."

"Oh, and Tom, even if she demands for you to drop her off anywhere other than her house, ignore her. Dump her directly in front of her house. I am enjoying just the thought of how she is going to explain her whereabouts for all these hours."

"It will be my pleasure. Ana, are you okay?" He asks.

I turn my head halfway around so he can see my profile.

"Don't worry, Tom. I am okay. Just tired and I want that whore out of here."

"Don't sweat it, consider her already gone."

He leaves the room and closes the door behind him. It is late. I am exhausted. My mind is racing at the same time that it has closed itself off. I am staring up at the star filled sky when my phone beeps from an incoming text message.

Kate.

"Big guy is asleep. Spill it."

I cannot help but grin or shake my sudden need to be in Kate's presence. My fingers slide over the keys as I reply to her in a short but concise message that I know will make her smile.

"2 down. 2 to go."

Then I hit send.

A/N- Forgive all mistakes and I apologize if it took you several days to finish the chapter. Since we're nearing the end, the next chapters will probably be my usual long ones, but I assure you, this is my only novella.-Anna