Sipping on a glass of cherry moscato to go along with the tiramisu I was enjoying I smile as Christian watches me. To say that dinner was a success would be an understatement. As promised Christian was nothing but a gentlemen, his mama would be proud.

He took me to a restaurant called Giovanni's which of course he owned. I was starting to believe he owned half of New York itself.

We spoke of everything. His family was Italian. He spent half his life coming back and forth spending summers In Italy and school years here in the states. He didn't speak much of his father but his mother was his hero. I found that endearing.

"So Ana tell me about yourself. We've spent this whole dinner talking about my time in Harvard and my family but I want to know about you." He takes a bite of his desert and I can't help but linger on his lips. It was getting harder as the night went on to resist his charm.

"Well my real name is actually Anastasia Rose Steele. My mother is Irish and my birth father was from Spain. I never met him though. My step father Ray raised me as his own. It was just us two growing up." I smile fondly thinking about Ray I would have to call him soon. Maybe I would travel to Washington state sometime soon. Ray was pretty worried about me after Jose did what he did.

"Irish and Spanish hmm.. Why would you live with your step father and not your mother?" I laugh and shrug my shoulders.

The thing about Carla was she never really wanted a child. I couldn't count the number of times I heard stories about my father and I could see the pain in her eyes. I reminded her of him too much.

"When my father died I was just a baby I believe I met him once my mother couldn't handle the pain and when she met Ray for awhile he helped... But it wasn't enough for her." I swallow the lump I feel growing and push back my tears. I told myself years ago that I was done crying over Carla. We still talked but sadly I never felt like she was a parent to me. I owed everything to Ray.

Looking up I blush when I see Christian watching me. His eyes were always intense. It's like he was always on alert waiting for the next thing to happen. Always keeping me in his sight.

"Ana?" My heart drops at that voice. I know that voice. Turning around I see Jose and he's with her. I feel old wounds re opening and look to Christian in despair.

"And you are?" His eyes are blazing and his face is set in stone.

"Jose but I believe I was talking to Ana... You look amazing Annie how are you?"

"Don't call me that." My teeth hurt from the amount pressure I'm putting on them as I set my jaw. He lost that right a long time a go.

"Please Jose just get out of here I'm on a date." Turning around in my seat I watch Christian as he stares at Jose.

"Do you need me to handle him?" His voice is cold and my palms feel sweaty. I'm nervous.

"Can we just go? Please." Nodding his head he holds out his to help me stand.

Out of all nights it had to be now. I had done my best to avoid Jose. The pain was so raw and real. I wasn't ready to face him.

The drive home is silent and I catch my self staring at Christian. He was bad news and I knew it. His sexy attitude, charming words, and protective nature. They all attracted me in ways that startled me. There was a time when I thought I would never truly see another man the way I saw Jose. I wasn't so sure that was true anymore.

Pulling up to my house he parks the car. Neither of us move. There's so much we want to say I can almost feel the unsaid words in the air.

"Ana I enjoyed tonight... Probably more than I should have." I close my eyes and lean against the window.

" why's that?"

"I'm not a good guy. I'm not your fairytale." I shrug my shoulders at that. Fairy tales didn't exist anyway.

"I'm not looking for a fairytale... I'm just looking for something that's real." Didn't he understand ? The day we met at his club I knew this was going to be a long road. I knew he wasn't just going to disappear.

I trace the faint lines on his face. What's made him so cynical? He's barely thirty and yet I don't think he's truly lived yet. Leaning in I gently place a kiss on his lips. I sit up and smile.

"Thank you for tonight it was wonderful." I give him one last look before getting out of the car. Walking up the stairs I'm in a haze. Christian Grey has clouded every sense I had.


CPOV

Throwing my self on to my bed I punch my pillow in frustration. How could I knowingly bring her into this life? What kind of future would she have? Would she even feel an ounce of care for me once she knew who I was and what I did for a living?

Rolling my head over to the night stand I see it see 10:00 pm. Insomnia ruled my life. Of course my father had me talk to the family therapist. He believed it was my conscious keeping me awake at night but that was bullshit. I could honestly say after the age of 13 , which was when I had my first kill, I didn't feel anything for those people anymore. If you actually knew the kind of people roaming these streets you'd thank me for doing some justice. It wasn't like these cops were doing any better.

My problem was not being able to shut my fucking brain off. It was like all my thoughts little or big were bouncing of the walls of my skull. Except tonight I didn't mind. Anastasia was the only thought on my head. The only thing that's been distracting me for the past week. The scary part was that I actually enjoyed myself tonight. I don't do dating. I don't have girlfriends and I sure as hell am not a hearts and flowers guy. However I tried for her. I didn't even know her but I knew that I wanted the chance to.

I had promised myself at a young age that this life style wasn't fit for a woman. Call me sexist I didn't give a fuck. I was taught if you loved a woman you better treat her the way she deserved to be treated or else. They should be pampered and have anything they desire. Sure it sounded nice but on the flip side your giving them a life full of violence, criminal investigations, and secrecy.

I loved my life style. It's the only thing I've ever known. I grew up only ever talking about the mafia. Training day in and out to become the perfect weapon. I don't think I could ever change my life for anyone. So how could I ask Anastasia to do it?

Hearing my phone ring on the night stand I stretch my hand over and pick it up.

"Grey."

"Get the fuck up we have to go I'm down stairs." Rolling my eyes I stand up and slip my shoes on. I guess it was a good thing I hadn't changed yet.

"What the fuck could be so urgent we have to go right now?" I hated these night runs. The scum bags would still be there tomorrow morning but yet we had to leave now to handle them. It was bullshit.

Walking down the stairs I open a hallway door that has a security door better than any fucking system you'd see in a bank or even the damn pentagon. Switching on the lights I walk inside and grab two guns stuffing them into the waistband of my pants. One was my Colt Commander and the other a 9mm. Locking the door and entering the code for the security system I leave.

I hadn't heard from my father all day so I had no clue what this job consisted of. I wasn't worried though us Grey men were lethal. We've been wired for this shit since we were kids.

"perché non mi chiamano papà per questa merda?" Italian was our first language. My great grandfather wouldn't have had it any other way. He was born in Sicily but grew up with his mother in Tuscany until he came to America at 16.

"ha chiamato mi inchino salire in macchina." He unlocks the car and gets in.

Rolling my eyes I get into the car. I didn't give a fuck about who broke what code or who fucked us over right now. All I wanted was to call Ana up and just talk to her. I sounded like a damn pansy but I wasn't going to lie to myself. This girl was getting deep under my skin and I didn't know why.

Pulling up to my fathers house I see him outside. Rolling down my window he walks up to the car.

"What's this about?"

"I need you guys to do a spot check on the factory we have downtown. I think we have a leak." I cleaned my teeth. A leak meant we either had a fucking rat or an undercover cop working for us. Neither would do.

"Who is this guy?" Elliot leans over to look at my father while getting his gun ready.

"Jack Hyde. I want him alive don't kill him." I scoff and my father pulls me by the collar out of the window.

"I fucking mean it Christian. . ." Coughing I push his hands off before sitting back down in my chair. I punch Elliot in the fucking gut as he laughs his head off.

"I got it. He'll be alive" fixing my collar I roll up my window and send a look towards Elliot as he drives off.

" I don't know why you mess with dad you know he'll kick your ass."

"Yea right ma will have his balls so quick he wouldn't even have time to beg for her forgiveness." We laugh because we both know it's true. Our father tried to be the hard ass father grandpa Giuseppe was when he was growing up. Grace wasn't having any of it. Sure we got our ass kicked but only if our mother deemed it justifiable. Our father hated it. He would always tell our mother she coddled us too much. She didn't give a damn.

Parking the car we hop out of the wrangler and open the back seat. Popping up his floors false bottom we take out rope a knife and the bat he has laying on the chair.

We couldn't kill this guy but we'd have a little fun getting our answers out of the fucker. Walking into the factory's back door we see our workers busting their asses to get our shit done on time. This was where we packaged most of the drugs and stored a lot of ammo we sold on the streets.

Walking up to the guy on my left I tap him on the shoulder.

"Where's Hyde?" With a shaky hand he points across the room at a man who looks about 30. His hair styled in a ponytail tail and he's about 6 foot. Walking around with the bat in my hand I knock his knees out before dragging his ass to our back room.

His screaming in pain as I throw him on the chair and tie him up. I look up at Elliot signaling for him to lock the door.

"So Jack Hyde tell us who you really work for?" I walk around his chair swinging the bat waiting for him to answer. This could go two ways. An I could tell this fucker had rat written all over him.

"I work for Carrick Grey... Your father or did you forget?" He spits on my shoe and I hear Elliot laugh. Snapping my fingers I quiet him down while looking at my shoes. This asshole was lucky my father wanted to spare his life.

"You have two options Mr. Hyde the first is tell us the truth and get your ass kicked for being the fucking rat we know you are or two keep bullshitting us and not only will I kick your ass but I'll have fun breaking every God damn bone in your body." Sending him a sickeningly sweet smile I wait for his answer. Either way I was going to enjoy teaching him some manners.

"Fuck off grease ball." Chuckling to myself I think about how this fucker didn't even know he just sealed his fate. Bring the bat down he cries out as it connects with his ribs. It was fine with me if he didn't want to cooperate it made my job more enjoyable.

"You should have just gave him what he wanted to know." Elliot calls from the door. He always kept watch at times like this unless he was needed. I was more than capable of handling this douche bag.

"Want to re think that answer you gave me?" Grunting his body sags and I see his hand twitch. Tying him to the chair was supposed to add to the helpless factor. It was supposed to cause panic to set when his survival instincts kicked in and he could do a damn thing about it.

"I told you who I work for."

Shaking my head I smile at him before raising the bat again and bringing it down on his right hand. I cringe as I hear the bones crack and know it's broken.

Placing my hand on the armrest of the chair I lean in towards his ear.

"That was your last chance dickhead." I grab the bat and break his other hand. His screams bounce of the walls but it doesn't matter. No one can hear him in here anyway.

"Did you know Christian here was MVP all throughout high school. Best damn baseball player on the team." Elliot taunts him from where he stands and I can feel the anger and pain rolling off this guy.

Picking up the bat I walk around before hammering it down on both knees. His pitch goes up another octave. He wouldn't be walking for quite some time. Dropping the bat I grab both broken hands before I can even squeeze he's begging for mercy.

"Deleon! I'm working for Deleon. They're the Puerto Ricans moving in on your turf. They'll have the whole east side of Manhattan before your father can blink."

"Well when we're done here you can tell Deleon what happens to people who fuck with our business." Giving his hand one last bone crushing squeeze I untie him and throw him across the floor. Rolling onto his side he tries his hardest to clutch his ribs but his hands were in no condition. Giving him one last good kick I straighten my shirt before telling Elliot to put him in the car.

"What the fuck man. I don't want blood on my seats."

"Get him in the fucking car Elliot we're paying Oscar Deleon a visit." I walk out while wiping his blood off my hands.

Italian phrases

why didn't dad call me for this shit?

He called me get in the car.

okay some of you voiced your concerns of Ana being a virgin and how if she isn't a virgin what is she bringing to the table.. well shes in college and I think I wanted her to have something different. I get that its nice and romantic to be someones first and fall in love forever but life doesn't always work out that way. However I did appreciate your review and I thank you so much for reading 3 Please guys leave a review telling me what you think!