Hello again faithful readers. Sorry for the long wait in between updates. I originally wanted this to be the final epilogue but I have not had much time to write, and I wanted to get something posted for all of you.
There will be one more epilogue after this one, again it will be a few weeks for it.
So—thank you again to my wonder co-author Debbie Hannon—she gave me some great ideas for this chapter and helped me get it written. You're the best Debbie!
Here is part 2 of 3 of the epilogue.
Chapter 11
CPOV
I walk into the house after Ana's funeral so overwhelmed with grief and an emptiness that it rips me to shreds. I was not invited to the reception at Ray's house where the rest of my family is, although I don't blame Ray for excluding me -I will forever be persona non grata. My family knows what I did, as well as my security staff, and except for Ryan and Reynolds, nobody has said much of anything to me since the weekend—they all blame me for Ana's death, and they are right to do so.
Elena has called and texted several times since Monday and I have ignored her calls, but after she tested Wednesday night, telling me she was on her way over with a new sub, I called her and screamed at her to never contact me again, and then blocked her number; security has been directed to not allow her on the premises under any circumstances, and if she shows up they are to call the police and have her arrested for trespassing.
I walk into my office and poured a tumbler of bourbon. That nightmare has shaken me to the core. I reach for my phone to call Flynn for an emergency session, but I get his answering service and then remember that he left for London Monday morning and won't be back until next week. He came over Sunday night and we talked for a while, but I couldn't bring myself to tell him about the affair…he still thinks all this happened because of the way I treated Ana about the pregnancy.
God, I'm a fucking coward…
I throw my phone against the wall, and then proceeded to destroy my office after seeing the divorce papers and clothes still sitting on my desk. I fall to the floor, looking at the mess I created, and see the red box with Ana's wedding and engagement rings laying in the rubble. I pick up the box and take the rings out, squeezing them in my fist, praying that I will wake up from this nightmare, but I ever do.
Hours later, after several more glasses of bourbon, I wander into the kitchen and open the refrigerator to get something to eat. Gail, while doing her best to avoid me, has kept the freezer well stocked with meals, and I pull out a container of macaroni and cheese and put it in the microwave. When she and Taylor return from Montesano tonight, I am going to release them both from their 2 weeks-notice on Friday. I can't deal with the looks of disgust on their faces the few times we have spoken I know they can't wait to get away from here, so I might as well let them go. Reynolds has a few prospective security candidates lined up for interviews next week, and he already contacted the housekeeper who was at Escala and she agreed to work full time for me at the house, starting next Monday. Taylor refused to recommend anybody for security—he said he wouldn't want to be responsible forinflicting me on anyone he knew personally…
Thursday morning I call him into what's left of my office and tell him that he and Gail are free to leave at the end of the day Friday, and I then tell him to contact Ros and the GEH attorney to get the paperwork in place to make Ros the interim CEO immediately for an undetermined period-there is no way I can deal with GEH right now. Taylor nods his head and walks out, again without saying anything to me, and sends Reynolds in.
I have Reynolds call Barney to get me a new phone and laptop, and then walk out of my office and into Ana's office and sit on the couch in there. Looking at all the books on the shelves, I feel her presence in here and can still smell her perfume and body wash. She took only her personal possessions with her—things she had before we got married, or small items she bought for herself throughout our marriage, but she left behind everything I gave her—all the first editions, jewelry, cars, all the fancy ball gowns—everything I had given to her before and during our marriage sits shelves or in her closet, where it will all sit, never to be touched again.
I sigh, and lay down of the couch, grabbing and hugging a pillow, inhaling her sweet scent and falling into an uneasy slumber, knowing a nightmare is right around the corner.
The nightmares came back full force the week I spent at Escala with Camile, and they have gotten worse every night, although nothing was as bad as the one I experienced on the way home from the funeral.
I told Camile to leave the bedroom and not try to wake me up when I was having a nightmare. I never told her what they were about, or why I have them, but they were happening so often that the week before we left for Chicago, I told her to start sleeping in the old sub room. They seemed to be worse when she was sleeping next to me…she had the exact opposite effect as Ana.
The weekend comes and goes with Taylor and Gail leaving Saturday morning—they couldn't get out of here fast enough. Taylor came into my office and handed me their phones, badges, car keys and laptops, and all he had to say was "Gail and I are leaving now" and turned and walked out, not giving me a chance to say anything, although I don't know what I would have said. I know he feels responsible for Ana's death, wishing he would have said something to her, even if it would have cost him his job.
My father came over Sunday afternoon for a few minutes to check on me—I'm sure he did it out of obligation and not because he wanted to. My mother has not spoken to me since the morning she found my phone …she could barely tolerate sitting next to me at the funeral, and Elliot and Mia have completely disowned me…I am a pariah in my family now.
I have fallen into a routine of drinking myself to sleep every night—I start about lunchtime and don't stop until I pass out-it's usually in my office or on the couch in Ana's office. Reynolds comes in and hauls me back to my bedroom and leaves me on the bed, where I wake up the next day, shower, rinse and repeat.
The week after the funeral was Ana's 25th birthday, and I find myself back in her office once again. A few hours later Reynolds comes in and informs me that John Flynn is here.
We walk into my office, which had already been cleaned up by the new housekeeper, and I sit behind my desk while John takes a seat on my couch. Neither of us speaks for a few minutes, and then finally he says
"So, Christian—how have you been? I'm sorry I wasn't here for the funeral, but we had planned this trip for months and I couldn't cancel-It was my mom's 75th birthday and I couldn't miss it."
"That's fine John. I understand that you have other obligations. "
"So, let's talk. When I left last week, you told me that you felt responsible for Ana's death because of the way you behaved towards her because of the pregnancy. You never got a chance to apologize for your behavior, and you felt that if you had apologized maybe she would have left and she wouldn't have been on the road that day. Is that still how you feel?"
I take a deep breath, hang my head out of shame, and try to muster up the courage to tell him the full truth.
"I will forever feel responsible for her and my son's death. Nothing will ever change my mind about that. Everyone else feels the same way, too-my entire family not only blames me, but they hate me as well, along with Ray, Kate, and my security staff, and they have every right to feel that way."
"Christian' I begin, but he cuts me off
"John, there's more, so much more that you don't know, and when I tell you, you will hate me too"
"Christian, it's not my place to judge you—it's my place to listen and help you. So, talk to me—tell me what you need to unburden yourself of."
I pour a glass or bourbon for courage, and slam it down in 1 gulp, and being the coward that I am, I reach into the top drawer of my desk and get out the letter Ana left for me and hand it to John. He gives me a puzzled look, but then starts to read it. After a few minutes, he sets it down and looks at me, and I can see shock and disgust in his eyes.
"You were having an affair?"
I look down at my hands and nod my head.
"And Ana saw you together at Escala? How long had the affair been going on?"
"It started a few months ago. I was closing out a deal, and the owner flew to GEH to review and sign the final papers with his lawyer. When I met his lawyer, there was something familiar about her, and I spent the entire meeting trying to figure out if I knew her. We all met for dinner that night—Ana couldn't make it—and I was still intrigued by her, and after dinner the 2 of us went to the bar for drinks. I was drawn to her and should have known better to be alone with her when all the red flags went up, but I decided to ignore them. While we were talking, she knocked her phone off the table and when she bent over, I saw a tattoo across her lower back, and I remembered from where I knew her, and my dick immediately got hard."
I took a deep breath and continued "Years ago, I was in Boston because a deal started going south. It was a shitty, stressful few days but, we got it ironed out. After we signed the contract, I was still wound tight, and even though I had a sub at home, I needed a release and could not wait until I got back. The weather was bad, and I couldn't get a flight out until the next day, and I couldn't wait that long, so I visited a club in Boston and did a scene with a sub-I broke my own rule of monogamy. Her only hard limit was complete anonymity-the lights were dimmed, and the entire time her head was down, and she wore a mask, so I never saw her face, but I did see her tattoo."
At his point I looked up a John, and he had an impassive look on his face, so I continued "She was an incredible sub—the best I had ever had. After we finished our scene, I wanted to offer her a contract and move her to Seattle, but when I got out of the shower, she was gone. I looked all over the club but couldn't find her—I asked the bartender and the hostess for her name and contact information, but they wouldn't divulge any information. I badgered them, ever offered them $5000 for the information but they still refused. When I got back to Seattle, I was so desperate that I had Welch try to find her, but he had no luck either. I ended my contract with my current sub the day I got back from Boston in the off chance that if Welch found her, I could get her here ASAP. A few days after I got back, the owner of the club called me-he found out that I had attempted to bribe the bartender and hostess for her name and contact information, and he revoked my membership for violating the club's rules, and blacklisted me in the community. My reputation as a Dom took a serious hit—as you know, trust and confidentiality are a big part of the lifestyle, and word spread fast though out the community that I could not be trusted.
Elena was still able to supply me with subs, so I never had a dry spell, but my standing in the community definitely hit rock bottom."
Up to this point, Flynn hadn't said anything—I think he was still in shock from reading Ana's letter.
"OK Christian. So, tell me how the affair came to be? Did you initiate it or did she?"
"After I realized who she was, we continued talking, and after a few glasses of wine I built up the nerve to ask her if she was still in the lifestyle. She had a blank look on her face, and I told her that we had scened together in Boston years ago. She told me she was only in the lifestyle to help pay for law school, and was no longer a part of it, and wanted nothing more to do with it. She seemed to be ashamed of it, but a few minutes later she noticed my raging hard on, and after running her finger along my dick she told she still enjoyed a good hard fuck."
"And?" he asked
"I lost it. I whipped out my dick and she went down on me in the bar. After I blew my load down her throat, I lost all control and I took her in the back room of the bar and fucked her hard like she wanted."
"And then?"
"We went back out to the bar and I called Reynolds to bring an NDA to the table. We both signed it, and a few minutes later I got up and left."
"Why Reynolds? Why not Taylor?"
"Taylor was off that night. I am sure if he had been with me that night it would have never happened. I came clean to him a few days later, and he was so disgusted with me that he asked to be relieved as my CPO for a while."
"So, did you have any thoughts of Ana while this was happening? Or were you so consumed with this other woman that you completely forgot about your wife?" he asked, and I detected a little sarcasm and disgust in his voice.
"Ana popped in my mind as Camile was sucking my dick, but I pushed away all thoughts of her—I told you that I lost control. I didn't think- I just fucked. It was no different from when I fucked my subs-there was no emotional connection, it was just a physical act."
"Ok. So how did this go from a one-night stand to an affair? Didn't she live in New York?"
I then told him about her flying back for interviews and spending the week at Escala while Ana was at the publishing conference.
"So—she contacted you when she was back in town. Why? What made her think you would be interested in meeting up again if it was just fucking to you? Or did you tell her you wanted to see her again?"
Ashamed, I look away from him when I tell him I agreed that it would be a perk if she relocated here.
"I don't understand, Christian. What was so special about her that you were willing to throw away your marriage?"
"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! When I saw again her it stirred up feelings that I thought were long buried. It reminded me of how good and powerful and in control I felt when I was a Dom. It was the most sexually fulfilling experience I have ever had, and I re-lived every minute of that night repeatedly for months after our encounter. I wanted her so much to sign a contract and move to Seattle, and it pissed me off that I couldn't find her. I never wanted anyone as bad as I wanted her. I was ready to fly back to Boston and stake out the club in hopes of finding her, but since I never got a good look at her face, I didn't think I would be able to recognize her. And the fact that I had been kicked out of the club, I don't think they would have tolerated me hanging around. I thought about her for months after that night in Boston—nobody has come anywhere close to her."
I looked at Flynn and he had a look of shock on his face. "What?" I demanded
He just looked at me for several minutes before speaking "Do you realize what you just said?"
I stared at him like a deer in the headlights. "What?"
"This is deja-vous. You sat in that same spot a little over 2 years ago when you met Ana because she had you so tied up in knots. You sat there and said the almost the exact things about her—she stirred up feelings you didn't know you had, vanilla with her was the best and most fulling sexual experience you had ever had—you didn't know regular sex could be so good, you wanted her more than you had ever wanted anyone else. Do those words sound familiar? But you were talking about Ana then, not Camile. The difference between Ana and Camile is that you got Ana-you NEVER got Camile, and for a grown man who always gets what he wants, you couldn't handle the fact that you couldn't have her, so when you realized who she was, you just couldn't pass up the opportunity to finally get what you wanted- you acted like a spoiled child—you couldn't have what you wanted back then, so you had to have it now. All you were doing with her was feeding you bruised ego. Your entire adult life since you became a Dom has always been all about you—what you want. You manipulate people to get everything your way. How much did you compromise with Ana? Or did she just go along with you on most things to keep you from sulking?"
I stared at Flynn, not able to speak.
Mother Fucker. My fucking ego couldn't let it go that I couldn't have her—she was the one who got away. That's why I never got over her—why I thought about her for months—you didn't get what you wanted, you fucking selfish, arrogant prick, and you couldn't handle it.And Ana paid the ultimate price.
Holy fucking shit.
I look at John and tell him I have had enough for today, and walk outside and sit on the patio, lost in my thoughts. He walked out and told me he would see me again tomorrow.
It's been 2 weeks since that meeting with Flynn, when the cold, hard truth slapped me in the face and sent me into a deep depression.
Ana told me before we got married that I was high handed, and we both knew that I used money or manipulation and even blackmail to ensure that things always went my way. I never realized just how selfish and inconsiderate I really am. I realized that morning with John that I let my ego control my life, and eventually it ran my life into the ground, taking Ana and my son along with it.
I have talked with Flynn daily, either in person or on the phone, and he has somehow been able to keep me hanging on by my last thread. We have spoken about me going to a treatment center to help deal with all the guilt and depression, but I'm not yet ready to admit that I need to go.
During these 2 weeks we talked in depth about my reaction to Ana's pregnancy and my relationship with Camile.
I told him what I said to Ana the night she told me about the baby, how I called her stupid and accused her of getting pregnant on purpose, and how I so callously told her to get rid of it.
I told him we agreed to wait 5 years to start a family-I had hoped by then I would have overcome my fear of fatherhood. I know Ana would have been an incredible mother, and I knew she wouldn't let me fail as a father, but I still wanted more time before making that commitment.
"Christian, what was your relationship like with Camile?"
"In the beginning it was just fucking—rough, hard fucking. As I said before, she stirred up feelings that I thought were long buried. She told me she wasn't interested in a BDSM relationship, but towards the end that's where were heading.
One night we went out for a drive, and I found myself driving by the house on the sound and stopped in front of it and just stared. After a few minutes Camile figured out where we were and made the comment that she couldn't wait to live there. Hearing her say that made my blood boil, and I immediately turned around drove back to Escala. I dragged her into the bedroom, bent her over the bed and spanked her as hard as I could with my hand, getting madder and madder with every hit. She started moaning and I could tell she was aroused. The harder I hit her, the louder she moaned. I took off my belt and hit her over and over, and she loved it, and begged me for more. I was pissed off that she was enjoying the punishment so much, and dropped the belt, pulled out my dick and proceeded to fuck her harder than I ever had. I lost track of how many times she came-she really got off on the pain. After that night, our relationship became more of a BDSM relationship, even though I had yet to take her into the red room—I wasn't ready for that yet, so I improvised everywhere else the best I could. She also started dropping hints about wanting to do other things, and she also started acting a little more like a sub.
I knew I was headed back down that dark path with her, but I couldn't stop. I was completely out of control."
"Christian, there is something you have said a few times that I feel we need to discuss. You said the feelings Camile stirred up reminded you of how good and powerful you felt when you were a Dom. My question is—do you miss it? You gave up being a Dom for Ana—you said you didn't need it anymore, but it sounds like maybe you were starting to miss it. Did you resent Ana for giving that up?"
"Fuck no I didn't resent Ana for that! It was my choice to give up the hard shit—she never made me. I told her I would take her any way I could get her, and I gladly gave that up if it meant I could have her. Our sex life was incredible. Ana wouldn't allow the pain and punishment part, but she liked to play. I didn't need any of that shit with Ana."
"Christian, I have to ask this, and you need to be completely honest with your answer—do not lie to me because I will be able to tell if you are.
He takes a deep breath and looks me directly in my eyes. "The night you hit Ana with the belt and she left, you admitted that you were excited and getting off when you were hitting her because during those few minutes, you felt that Ana could finally be what you wanted her to be... So, my question is, did you feel that same kind of excitement and arousal when you were hitting Camile?"
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. There it is.
I cannot bring myself to answer him. I cannot admit that I was getting turned on with every hit. I cannot admit out loud that I missed it and wanted to go back.
I looked at Flynn and he knew the answer.
The monster came back.
I sat there, staring out the window while Flynn made some notes. I know he has got to be disgusted with me, and I don't know how he can still sit here in my presence any longer.
We decided to take a break for a while so I could let all this sink in. I ignored the pull, the desire, and pushed it back down, but it never went away… I was living in denial during most of our marriage.
After a while Flynn looks at me ask asks if I am OK to continue. I nod my head, so he starts talking again. He explains that I had managed to completely compartmentalize my actions and feelings with Camile, and I made myself completely forget that Ana existed.
I admitted that not once during those 3 weeks at Escala did I think about her. The first day I was there I instructed Reynolds to remove all the photos us as well as any of Ana's personal items so there was nothing left to remind me of her. Her scent was there, but I never went into her office and I had her clothes removed from our closet and her personal items removed from the bathroom.
And it worked.
I told him that I had not thought of Ana until that day in Chicago when Langston's wife showed up in his office. When she walked in the office, I could not help from staring at her—It was as if I was staring at Ana. Listening to what they had gone through to have a child and seeing how excited they both were really got to me, and I told Flynn that right then something inside me snapped, and when past 2 months flashed before me the realization of what I had done to my wife hit me like a freight train. I could not get out of there fast enough.
Sadly, my epiphany came 4 hours too late.
Flynn's feels that my reaction to seeing Mrs. Langston triggered a flashback similar to PTSD. Reliving the entire last 2 months in a matter a few minutes snapped me out of a fugue-like state and brought me back to the real world—it made me acknowledge Ana for the first time in 3 weeks—everything was suddenly real again.
Flynn decided to end our session there, and I was grateful. I don't think I could have handled much more.
We agreed to meet again tomorrow at the end of the day, and I texted Reynolds to bring the car around.
Later that afternoon I wander into the media room and turn on the TV out of sheer boredom. I start flipping through the channels when a live broadcast catches my eye:
"Good afternoon Seattle. This is Nicole Jackson reporting live from in front of the home of Seattle Salon owner Elena Lincoln. Elena Lincoln is the ex-wife of Eric Lincoln, the owner and CEO of Lincoln Timber, the 2nd largest timber manufacturer in the state. Mrs. Lincoln owns the exclusive chain of salons Esclava, which are located throughout Seattle and Bellevue, and cater to the upper class. Approximately 15 minutes ago, officers from the Seattle PD and several FBI agents entered the home of Mrs. Lincoln, armed with a warrant for her arrest. The officers would not give us any more information at this time, so we will have to wait and see what unfolds."
I see Elena being dragged out the front door, and the way she was dressed I knew what she was doing at the time. She was kicking and screaming the entire way to the police car, and I watched as it took 3 officers to get her in the back seat.
Seconds later I see paramedics going into the house, pushing a gurney, and I have a pretty good idea of what they found in her dungeon. I hope this one is of age.
As I continue to stare at the TV, my heart starts to race…I know what is hidden in the safe in her dungeon. She threatened me with it when I pulled my backing from her salons, but we both knew she would never release the photos as doing so would ruin her financially as well as her standing in the BDSM community.
A few minutes later a member of the Seattle PD comes out to make a statement to the press:
"At approximately 3:45 PM this afternoon, officers of the Seattle Police Department, along with agents of the FBI, entered the home of Elena Lincoln with a signed search warrant. The Seattle PD had received an anonymous tip that Mrs. Lincoln had in her possession several photographs and videos of herself engaging in various sexual acts with minors. When we entered her home, we found evidence to substantiate this accusation, and Mrs. Lincoln was arrested and taken into custody.
At this time we cannot comment further as this is an ongoing investigation. Thank you."
I stared at the TV in total shock.
An anonymous tip? Who the fuck has Elena pissed off now?
My mind is going 100 mph right now. I feel my heart racing and sweat is starting to form on my brow as I think of the possible scenarios that could materialize from Elena being outed.
Elena has several pictures and videos of me from when I was her sub and also when she was training me to be a Dom. She threatened to leak them when I cut all ties to her the day after Ana and I got engaged but she never did-she had just as much to lose since she would be outing herself as a pedophile.
Now it doesn't matter—she's been outed, and if the police find those photos and identify me, I will be outed as well. I could either be depicted as a victim of a sexual predator, or even worse, be labeled a pedophile like her.
The press will crucify me over this.
GEH can withstand the first scenario, but not the second one. Every company we do business with will back out because nobody wants to do business with a pedophile.
However, both will devastate my family. The shame and humiliation they will suffer because of me will be lifelong-they will never recover- especially my mother. Her reputation as a pediatrician will be ruined if it gets out that her son was molested by her best friend, who just happened to be a pedophile.
I feel myself getting sick thinking about this fucked up mess and grab the trash can and just in time for what little I have eaten today to come back up.
Suddenly Ana's words come back to haunt me:
"The path of destruction you leave in the lives of everyone you come in contact with just gets bigger and bigger."
She was so fucking right.
