Anastasia's Eyes

by bluesky5679

This is the story of two people living lives of misery and how they help each other crawl out of the pit.

This is #23. As always, most characters are the creations of E. L. James who has been generous enough to allow others to use them in writing their own stories. Thanks to Ms. James.

There are 135 chapters and an epilogue.

This is the story of two people living lives of misery and how they help each other crawl out of the pit.

ANASTASIA'S EYES

Prologue

A gray morning. Seattle rain. He takes a deep breath, glancing to his left and eyeing the beautiful naked woman lying beside him. Cordelia? No. That was last week. He sighs, rising to sit on the edge of the bed. Looking out the massive windows, he once again wonders why he lives in this town. 2/3 of the year is a misery. Why do the homeless come here? Still, they do. He doesn't care about them. He lives 20 floors above the street and when his chauffeur drives out of the garage, he doesn't see them. Likewise, when they arrive at Grey House.

He sighs and rises to walk to the en suite to begin his day. The toilet, the shower, the closet filled with Tom Ford, Armani, Gucci, Boss. He ponders his tie collection and chooses a $300 Tom Ford. He checks the mirror. Staring with half-dead eyes, he studies the face that has appeared on too many magazine covers to count…the face and body declared to be that of an Adonis.

He takes his grandfather's pocketknife from the counter and, for a moment, he considers slashing the face he sees in the mirror.

CHAPTER 1

"This deal ought to have been concluded a week ago. Gentlemen, ladies…explain the delay."

His words were controlled but the threat in his calm voice was unmistakable. The men and women, sitting stiff as statues around the conference room table, were inwardly trembling.

A meeting with the boss was always, for many in the room, preceded by a visit to the lavatory to vomit from nerves.

All eyes turned to Jack Hyde, sitting at the head of the table, staring a straight line down to Christian Grey at the other end. He disguised his discomfort and spoke with a strong voice.

"Sir, you are not unaware of the difficulties we've experienced…difficulties beyond our control. Thus, I am surprised that you require an explanation."

Grey's cold glare froze Hyde in his chair. He continued in a less confident voice.

"However, we have not conceded. We have continued to work hard despite the roadblocks in our way. My team and I have no intention of accepting defeat. We will seal this deal as soon as possible. Sir."

Grey said nothing. Although there was no change in his demeanor, inside he'd lost interest.

Seal the deal…blow the deal…whatever.

He stood, adjourned the meeting and left the room. The women, though terrified of their boss, watched mesmerized as he walked away. Any one of them would have given away their souls for one night with Christian Grey.

The group turned to their leader, Jack Hyde. A black cloud had come over his countenance.

They knew that his feelings about Grey went deeper than mere fear. He hated him. Even the men in the room admired, even revered the boss…but not Hyde.

He opened his folder and coolly suggested that everyone get back to work on closing this deal…and soon.

CHAPTER 2

In his office, Grey sat in his chair…bourbon in hand, staring without seeing out the wall of windows overlooking Seattle. Idly, he mused about covering the glass with a life-like mural of a sunlit view of a lake and mountains.

His daydreaming was interrupted by Andrea, his PA. He turned around in his chair, his face now pleasant and welcoming. Together, they sat going over his schedule for the rest of the week. On Sunday or Monday, he would have to fly to Beijing to meet with the Chinese about a trade deal.

Grey disliked transactions with the Chinese communists. They felt that their thousands-year-old civilization made them superior to a "pup" nation like the United States and it showed in their attitudes. Being communists, they also considered manipulation and lies to be fair tactics in financial dealings with the "wicked" west. Still, they were now a major player and it behooved other nations to welcome them to the table.

"I'll be occupied on Sunday afternoon, Andrea. Please tell Stephan to have the jet ready in the evening. Oh…and be certain that the flight attendant is Natalie. Cynthia is overly attentive."

Andrea smiled. Cynthia, she knew, all but drooled over her handsome passengers. Jack Hyde loved that. Grey did not.

Concluding their meeting, Grey ordered in a sandwich and spend the next several hours pouring over contracts, spreadsheets, potential acquisitions, emails…his laser focus deflecting all other thoughts. He didn't notice Andrea popping in to say good night.

"Sir." A deep, commanding voice…not to be ignored.

Grey looked up. Taylor, his chauffeur, stood rigid as the soldier he had once been, his face impassive.

"Coming, Taylor. Oh, did you remember to order those flowers for my mother's birthday?"

"Yes, sir. Two dozen white roses to be delivered Friday morning. A necklace with a diamond pendant from Cartier will arrive in the evening."

Grey thanked Taylor and, picking up his briefcase, headed for his private elevator with Taylor in tow.

His evening would be spent eating takeout and studying still more possible acquisitions.

Around midnight, he would retire to his bedroom and his now empty bed. He would lie, staring at the ceiling and gripping the bedsheets to keep him from falling off the edge of the planet. The ache in his heart and head would torment him for hours before he fell asleep from exhaustion.

CHAPTER 3

"Where are you going, Christian?"…a sleepy voice inquired from the other side of the bed.

Christian's bed was a double king. He liked it that way. He could fuck his company on one side and then sleep, far away, on the other. Sometimes, the women were cuddlers but the second they fell asleep, he moved to the edge…away and alone.

"Today is my mother's birthday. I'm expected soon. I have to get showered and dressed."

"Well," the woman's voice was almost a purr, "I could shower with you. I could even go to your mother's party." She was lying on her side, leaning on her elbow. She was enticing and Grey could feel his stomach roiling with revulsion.

He smiled at the stunning blonde. "I'm so sorry, Violet, but I'm in kind of a hurry. I'm going to be late as it is…tho' a long shower sounds good. This is a family night…my mother is very strict about that."

"My name is Victoria," the blonde snarled at him.

He made a mental note to alert security to hustle the woman out the door soon after he left. Otherwise, he might come home to a bedroom destroyed.

As he and Taylor drew closer to Grey Manor, Grey's breath came harder, more strained. Taylor glanced at the rear-view mirror, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Sir. There's cold Dasani in the bar." The hint didn't take. Grey's face grew paler. Taylor pulled off the road, parked and reached around to remove a bottle of water. He handed it to the boss who unscrewed the cap and drank without thinking.

Taylor drove on.

CHAPTER 4

Everyone around the table was talking and laughing. Grey plastered an expression of interest and enjoyment on his face…occasionally faking a laugh. Sometimes, at these dinners, he could manage a word, a joke…some participation…but usually he moved his food around and watched the others.

His mother was pleased with his gifts. His father, in order to keep the atmosphere light for his wife, was taking the evening off from "talking" with his younger son. Elliot was mock shocking his parents with tales of his love life and Mia was filling the air with empty chatter.

Grey knew that later Elliot would take him aside to present him with a business opportunity that he was offering to his brother first. Grey would listen and nod and write a check. He really didn't mind. Elliot's business was doing well and it didn't matter if Grey never saw his money again. Still later, Grey would wander outside with a bourbon to gaze at the stars…giving Mia the opportunity to accost him for an advance on her allowance. He'd been giving her an allowance for many years. Again, he didn't mind. Her face would light up as he handed over the check. She'd kiss his cheek and squeal at the amount as if it was the first time.

She'd run back inside to join the rest of the family playing a boardgame or viewing a movie and no one would notice his absence. Sometimes, he'd mount the stairs to his old bedroom where he'd sequester himself with memories…not all bad. He liked to think about his deceased grandfather Trevelyan, the one person in the family who seemed to "get" him.

The others either didn't…or didn't care to try. Maybe it was his fault. Again, like almost everything, it didn't really matter. He'd never dreamt of a close, loving family…only a successful business and a 30-story building downtown with his name on it. He had so much money now that he didn't know how much or care.

He was 28 years old. He owned…well…everything. Yet he suffered from severe depression with which he'd dealt all his life. Keeping extremely busy with work, building his company, had mostly kept his blues at bay for a long time but the demons that haunted him were growing stronger. Christian felt that his life was empty and didn't see that changing…ever.

For the past 3 years, he had been struggling with suicidal ideation. The thought that he could simply end his life was comforting and as his despair built, he became more and more a part of that world than the reality around him. He considered the ways in which he could die with the same dedication that he once gave to building his company.

CHAPTER 5

"Hello, darling," Elena murmured seductively in his ear.

"Elena."

"How was dinner with the family tonight?"

"Fine."

"Would you like to stop by for a nightcap?" Her voice fairly flamed with lust.

"Not tonight. I've been drinking and I don't want to keep Taylor up any later."

"Darling, the man is your employee. You needn't be so solicitous. Just tell him to nap in the car while you and I…visit."

Grey's skin crawled. His former dominatrix never tired of trying to lure him back into her bed. It had been a decade since he'd moved on from BDSM, but she was still certain that he was just taking a break.

In truth, he'd always found kink to be boring. He only participated because he got to fuck a beautiful older woman who knew her way around his body. She'd taught him everything he knew about sex and, surprisingly, it was enough to please other women. They thought that he was passionate about them. He was just rough. It was all he knew.

"Christian? Are you there?" Her tone was now one of irritation. Elena thought that she was still that beauteous blonde from all those years ago and failed to understand what was holding her prize pet back. She could walk into any hotel bar in Seattle and be escorted to an expensive suite for a night of delights with any man she wanted. In bed, she was unlike anyone they'd ever known. Of that, she was certain.

"Christian!"

The line had already gone dead. Grey stared out the car window as the lights of the city began to come into view. Ahead…Escala.

CHAPTER 6

He drank another bourbon as he prowled around his penthouse. The silence screamed at him. He turned toward his bedroom but couldn't face being alone in it, so he reversed direction and headed for the kitchen. Cold Chinese takeout. He heated it in the microwave and then dumped it into the garbage bin.

He grabbed the keys to his Audi R8, fully loaded, a quarter-million dollars of fuck-you V-10 under the hood. Ironically, he preferred Audis because of their safety record.

It was early morning and the streets were deserted. Without realizing that he had made a decision, he increased his speed, racing down the quiet main street. There was no one about at that hour, no one to hurt but himself…or so he thought. He closed his eyes, took his hands off the wheel and waited for eternal darkness.

Darkness came but was not eternal. He awakened to the cacophony of sirens, police and firefighters, lights flashing. They were talking to him, but he was having trouble understanding… focusing. Gradually, he realized that his car was lying on its side and on top of another vehicle. His face was resting in an airbag.

The firefighters wrenched his door open and the EMTs begin to examine him for injuries. No, he told them…he didn't feel anything was wrong…he was just dazed. After helping him up and out of the car, the EMTs continued to check his vitals. He paid no attention. He was numb.

He got a clearer glance of the car he crushed with his own…an ancient, battered VW bug. For a moment, he reflected that he should have kept his eyes open and hit a truck. Beetles are still on the road? Huh. He almost laughed that of all vehicles he could have slammed into, he took out a car that would crumble if you merely bumped it.

He noticed an ambulance and began to tell the EMTs that he didn't need one when he was shocked to see the firefighters using the jaws of life on the VW.

He stumbled to his feet, wobbling. The EMTs told him that he may have a concussion. He'll have to get checked out at the hospital. He barely heard them as he watched a small figure being lifted carefully from the wreckage he created. What was someone doing in their car at this hour? Oh, god. He didn't mean for this to happen. What had he done?

He pushed away from the EMTs and made his way to the body being removed. A woman. Now on a stretcher…one of those collars around her neck. There was blood. Oh, god! Oh, god!

The stretcher was moved into the ambulance and Grey was told to sit across from his victim. She now had an oxygen mask covering her face. There was blood on her forehead, seeping into her dark hair and trickling down her pale cheek.

Grey looked at the EMT, beseeching him to tell him that the girl was all right. The EMT shook his head…internal injuries possibly, he said…hard to say until the docs get a look at her. The EMT looked toward the doors, explaining to the cops that they'd have to wait to talk with the Audi driver. He was in shock. The cops reluctantly backed off.

While the EMT was reaching to close the back door, a remarkable thing happened. The girl opened her eyes and looked into Grey's. It was only for a moment, but it was enough to blast him into a different reality. Another world was in those eyes…a bright blue window into a place he'd never dreamt existed.

And, thus, did Christian Grey's real life begin.

CHAPTER 7

"Anastasia, Anastasia," the paramedic pleaded with the unconscious woman to respond to his voice. He was leaning over her, blocking Christian's view. Grey felt a strange resentment…as though the paramedic was taking his place. He should be talking to Anastasia…not this stranger.

When the paramedic's voice lightened and Grey could hear the smile in his tone, he knew that Anastasia was looking into the man's eyes. He struggled to restrain himself from shoving the fellow aside. However, she was hurt…possibly badly…and most important was that she be helped. Grey couldn't do that for her, and his heart ached at his impotence when she needed him.

The EMT leaned back, reaching for some equipment and, once again, Christian could see Anastasia's eyes. The most brilliant blue. Looking into them, he could see lakes and rivers and mountains and green hills and cloudless sky. Everything was in Anastasia's eyes.

Then the paramedic turned to Grey, taking his vitals. He looked concerned.

"I'm afraid that you're in worse shape than you initially appeared to be, Mr. Grey."

"How did you know my name?" Grey asked suspiciously.

"The police checked your ID…from your car. Sir, your pupils are dilated almost completely. Your blood pressure is skyrocketing. I need you to focus on your breathing…slowly in and out. Sir? Can you hear me, sir?"

No, he couldn't hear anything but the songs of birds as he and Anastasia strolled, hand in hand, through the grass and toward the lake. Their little cabin was behind them…their calico cat guarding her kittens as they played. Their dog, a lab…no, a retriever…loped alongside them, jumping once in a while to catch a butterfly.

Their boat was tied to the dock…still. They'd half expected it to have been blown away in last night's thunderstorm. They liked rainy nights…nights when they would wrap themselves in blankets and huddle together in front of the fire…talking and laughing. No one could make him laugh like Anastasia.

Later, they would make love…gentle, passionate…her nails digging into his back…his face buried in her skin. They always came together…their eyes locked on each other. It never grew stale, looking into Anastasia's eyes.

CHAPTER 8

They took the boat out into the middle of the lake…its turquoise waters gleaming in the morning light. As they fished for their dinner, Christian sneaked looks at his exquisite wife. She was flawless. Her profile, her dainty nose, her glossy brown hair dancing softly in the breeze. He loved the way she'd close her eyes and tilt her head toward the sun…as if to drink in its glow. Then, feeling his eyes on her, she'd turn to him and smile sweetly…leaning over to kiss his lips.

After catching their meal, he would row back to the dock, tie up the boat securely and pick up the bucket with one hand…his other wrapped around her tiny waist, holding her close.

Their dog…hmmm…Skippy…raced ahead to tease the mother cat.

Together they gutted the fish…a messy job that only Anastasia could do with such grace. Then they gathered a few vegetables from their garden for a salad while the fish baked. Christian would open a bottle of wine while Anastasia set the table on the porch. He'd look out at the lake as the sun shifted to the west just a bit.

They'd eat, they'd talk, they'd admonish Skippy and the cat to get down and eat their own lunches. After finishing their meals, they'd leave the dishes to soak. The radio was playing old 1940's love songs…slow and easy. So, they would dance…sometimes flowing around the porch…sometimes standing almost still, holding each other tightly. They would kiss, exploring each other's lips and mouths, for a long time…until the fires inside of them became too strong.

Christian would gather up his wife in his arms, carry her into the cabin and undress her. They would explore each other's bodies for hours. Anastasia would scream out his name and beg him to never stop. He would give her everything that he could and always find more. She would tell him that only he could drive her so mad with desire.

Then they would finally nap until suppertime.

CHAPTER 9

The days would flow, one into the other, in peace. There were plenty of chores to do…gathering wood, repairing the roof after storms, hunting and canning to fill their freezer for the winter months. He loved to check his "honey-do" jar to see what new jobs Anastasia had thought up.

One day, the words "build a room onto the house" popped out at him. They lived in one large room. Why would they need more?

"Anastasia, what will you do with another room?" he enquired as she kneaded bread dough.

She smiled slyly at him and winked. He was very confused. She patted her tummy and told him that they'd be needing a nursery. He fell back into a chair, stunned. She walked over to him, stood between his legs and held his head against her belly.

"In a few months, you'll be able to feel our child kick. 'Til then, you can talk to the baby, sing to the baby, so he or she will know your voice."

He reached his arms around her and pressed his face even closer, his eyes glistening. Oh, please, he thought…have Anastasia's eyes.

He didn't have much time. Winter…and the baby…would be here before they knew it. He pushed himself to build on not one but two more rooms. They would need a bedroom for themselves so that the big room could be used as a common space for the three of them. Children needed a lot of room to play, especially during the colder months and when it rained.

He wouldn't allow Anastasia to go anywhere alone…not that he ever could stand to be without her near. Now, however, he was even more protective. He made her wear a life jacket even though she was an excellent swimmer. When they went into town, he insisted on driving even though she was better at it than him. He had a hard time keeping his eyes on the road and off Anastasia.

He loved when she began to show and people would look at them as they walked by. People had always stared anyway…Anastasia was so beautiful. So was he but he never gave that a thought. It was his wife that drew the stares…not him, he knew. They would go from store to store…Anastasia piling his arms with boxes and bags. There were so many baby things to get and she fretted that she would forget something that they would then need in the middle of a blizzard. He tried to reassure her that they could always improvise but she was deep in nesting mode and nothing but perfect would do.

He read books. Some things that he learned were disturbing. He tried to mentally prepare himself for the decrease in Anastasia's sexual needs and the six weeks after the baby's birth…the drought.

Anastasia, however, seemed to only grow more in need of him. They were closer than ever. They spent hours talking to her belly. Christian would sing love songs to the baby. They didn't know the gender. They'd told the doctor that they wanted to be surprised. They had a list of names that they'd finally narrowed down to two.

CHAPTER 10

Joe came early and in the middle of a snowstorm. Christian had prepared for this possibility and acquitted himself rather nicely…he thought. Anastasia had to labor while also cheering on her husband and assuring him that everything would be okay. The hours seemed to drag and both were exhausted when Joe finally slid out of his mother and into the world.

He immediately latched on, with his parents lying together and watching him in wonder. Outside the wind blew fiercely but Christian had built the cabin strong, double strength, and inside all they could feel was the warmth of the fire and each other.

Christian beamed at his son. Joe had Anastasia's eyes.

"Christian? Christian? Grace implored her son to hear her. He'd finally opened his eyes, but he was unfocused. He was smiling like the sun. Grace took his face in her hands and looked directly into his grey orbs. "Christian!"

Christian looked to his left, to see his wife and son, his cabin, his fire. What was his mother doing here? Where were Anastasia and Joe? Panic set in. He couldn't breathe. His world was gone. What was happening?

He sat up abruptly, swiveling his head, desperate to see his family.

"What have you done with them?! He screamed at Grace. His voice was not the same. It was raspy, harsh, weak. What had they done to him?

People in white coats crowded around him. He tried to get up, but he had no strength. Had they drugged him? He felt limp.

"Son? Please try to relax." Carrick's voice was soothing but it didn't calm Christian. He was so agitated that his heart rate and blood pressure were climbing into dangerous zones. The doctors had no choice but to sedate him. His parents were frantic now.

"He finally wakes up and you want to put him under again? Can't you just give him something to quiet him?"

The doctor took them aside. "It wouldn't be enough at this point. He was pushing himself to a heart attack. We'll continue to slowly ease him back into reality without endangering his health. Right now, he is exceedingly confused, and it is terrifying for him.

"I know that it's been a long wait for you. I'm sorry to make you wait even longer but we want your son to be cognizant of reality…not frightened by it. Coming out of an altered state is never as easy as simply waking and looking around. That, in fact, is the hardest part for a patient. We're fortunate that your son was so verbal. Otherwise, we wouldn't know that he was in another place and time in his mind.

"Try to understand. Your life is your reality. Imagine blinking and finding yourself in an entirely different place with everything you've always know now gone. You would do anything to get home. I've had patients like Christian who were so destroyed to awaken and find their dream life gone that they slipped into catatonia so that their minds could "go home". They never returned.

"I think that he'll fight it but he will come back to you."

Grace dabbed at her eyes and Carrick put his arm around her shoulder. They nodded. This awakening was only the beginning of their trials.

CHAPTER 10

Several months and hundreds of hours of therapy and rehab later, Christian Grey sat in the back of his car going over emails on his iPad. Taylor checked the rear view mirror a dozen times. His boss wasn't the same. He seemed the same but Taylor knew him better than anyone.

It was as though Grey had given up…on everything. Taylor didn't know that Grey wasn't even living with thoughts of suicide anymore. Rather now, snatched out of heaven, he had nothing. When the doctors had finally convinced him that his cabin on the lake with his wife and child were mere illusions, he broke inside. He fell back on the autopilot that had kept him moving for years…working. The doctors had given him pills to help with his depression, but he didn't take them. He wasn't depressed. He had no emotions. He was a robot, programmed to respond appropriately to a situation.

Now he looked up as they drew near Grey House and caught Taylor looking at him in the mirror. Appropriate response: smile, reassure Taylor.

"Taylor, I'm fine. Stop worrying. I'm not going to jump out my office window. Couldn't anyway. Unbreakable and bullet-proof, remember?" Grey chuckled a little…appropriately.

Taylor nodded and swooped into the underground garage. Lately, the building security had been having trouble keeping the homeless from camping in front of the driveway. Grey didn't want them driven off…it wouldn't work anyway…but blocking the entry to the garage was unacceptable.

Prior to his "accident", he'd wanted to set up a soup kitchen of sorts on the sidewalk but had been warned by the police that his wasn't the only building and the street would become prime camping grounds. Grey hadn't realized that. Having grown up in a rich and prominent family, he was blind to the circumstances of others.

Thus, he continued now to attend charity dinners where all the rich wore their finest and contributed money to groups who looked after these creatures from another world.

His private elevator took him straight from the garage to his floor. He never had to pass through the lobby area, avoiding all the people who wanted to call out "good mornings" to him. The people working on the executive floor knew to say nothing to him as he walked past to his office. However, he could feel their eyes on him and he wished that he had had an elevator built in to go straight into his office.

He sat in his chair, drank the latte and ate the egg sandwich that his personal assistant, Andrea, had waiting for him. He was punctual to the minute and Andrea was efficient so both the latte and sandwich were hot. She would wait a few minutes for Grey to eat and get situated. Then she would enter with the daily agenda.

He would look up and smile, thanking her for the breakfast…appropriate.

Andrea was the other person, besides Taylor, who knew Grey well. And she, too, knew that he was different. There was nothing behind the smile. Indeed, she was coming to believe that there was nothing in front of her at all. She felt immense sadness.

CHAPTER 11

"Mr. Grey, the building security has been wanting to speak with you about the homeless out front. They would like to take more stringent measures to deal with the problem. I've been putting them off for some time but they've become increasingly insistent. They say they need your input."

"I understand, Andrea, but I know nothing about crowd control. Have they tried appealing to the authorities?"

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid that it's an issue all up and down the coast and everyone is flummoxed. The police have made a sweep of the area several times…destroyed the homes of these people and bulldozed all of their belongings into dump trucks…but they keep returning."

"The same people?" Grey looked confused.

"The guards do recognize some of the repeats but there are always new people. They would like to erect some sort of barrier to keep the encampments off the sidewalk but they need your permission."

"Why do they feel that they need me to okay the plan?"

"Well, sir, ugly barriers would reflect on this beautiful building but on the other hand, people would be able to come and go to do their business without having to make their way through a possibly dangerous crowd. Also, barriers have been attempted in some neighborhoods and the police ordered them removed. Security feels that with your clout, perhaps we could get away with it."

Grey felt suddenly weary. "All right, Andrea. Whatever. Tell security to do what they need to do. However, give those people down there a warning and time to remove their homes. I don't want them left with nothing."

Andrea smiled. She'd always thought that her boss had a good heart and learning that it had been irretrievably broken…well, his concern for the homeless gave her hope.

She was wrong. Grey had no concern for the homeless. His concern was resolving issues with the least amount of bother to him. As soon as she left the office, the matter left his mind. He turned back to the pile of work on his desk. He had to get it all done before leaving for China.

CHAPTER 12

That evening, hours after his discussion with Andrea, he and Taylor pulled out of the garage. Back to Escala, bourbon and takeout. The solitude of his study. The predictability of his day was the closest thing to soothing in his life.

The driveway was clear, making Taylor happy…but suddenly he stopped the car and jumped out. Grey looked up from his iPad. Taylor was running toward a tall man who was savagely kicking someone lying on the ground. The person wasn't screaming, even though the kicks must have hurt. Huh? Grey thought. The homeless did fight among themselves sometimes…he'd heard. A closer look helped him see that the aggressor was none other than his own employee…Jack Hyde.

He was going at the helpless person on the ground like a madman. Taylor and two security guards were having trouble pulling him away. All the while, Hyde was yelling and cursing. Even as the guards got him down to the ground, he continued to kick out at the homeless person.

Grey had now approached the scene, ordering Jack to cease and desist. Hearing his boss's voice, Hyde froze. He lay back on the concrete, catching his breath. There was a pool of blood forming under the homeless person. The police soon arrived and took Hyde into custody. Jack, handcuffed and sitting in the backseat of the cop car, glared through the window at Grey staring back at him. Christian had never liked the man but he'd always done good work. Now he would have to fire him.

That was bothersome but it wasn't the end of it. The person he'd hurt would no doubt hold the much deeper pockets of Grey Enterprises and Holdings accountable. Grey idly wondered if this episode would be covered by insurance.

"Sir. Sir?"

"Oh, yes, Taylor, sorry. Distracted. Did you find out what this was all about?"

"The police interviewed some of the people observing…enjoying the show, I suppose," Taylor grimaced. "They said that Jack came out of the building and stumbled over this young woman sitting on the ground. She stood up and apologized but Jack lost his temper and punched her in the face, knocking her to the ground. Then he stomped on her…but that wasn't enough. As she curled into a ball, he began kicking her and just didn't stop. The observers felt that our guards' reaction to this attack was too slow."

"How is she now?"

"The police want to talk to you. Do you want to go to the car while I deflect them?"

"No. No, this is my responsibility. That man has always struck me as unstable. I should answer for this. Would you look around…see if anyone needs help…how the clearing of the sidewalk is going? And Taylor, I gave orders that these people were to be allowed to keep all of their belongings so make sure they aren't being abused."

Demonstrating concern for others. That's appropriate, isn't it?

CHAPTER 13

"We're given to understand that the man in custody is an employee of yours. Is that correct, Mr. Grey?"

Christian was surprised to find himself sitting in a dank interrogation room at the SPD headquarters downtown. He'd figured on a quick conversation on the sidewalk in front of Grey House. The owner of GEH was unaccustomed to being treated like an ordinary citizen.

"Yes. Jack Hyde is…was…my director of communications."

"Do you vet your employees, Mr. Grey? Are you in the habit of hiring lunatics?"

There was a quick knock on the door and Carrick charged in, face red with anger and indignation.

"How dare you drag my son, an innocent party, down to this, this room, and put him through a questioning? Do you know who he is…what he's done for this city? And for what? An incident in which he had no involvement, no blame?"

The detective tried to defend his actions but Carrick was too quick for him.

"Save it, Parks. I know that you're bucking for commissioner…trying to look tough. This is all for show. You're using my son to polish your image as a man of the people. I have grounds for a lawsuit and I'm sourly tempted to ruin you."

Detective Parks looked a bit green. He tried again.

"Mr. Grey. Your son employed a clearly psychotic man who nearly beat a woman to death. He has some accountability for this. Also, we are trying to learn more about the assailant."

Carrick started to go off on Parks again when he noticed the expression on his son's face.

"We're leaving. My son's representatives will be in touch for questioning. Good night, Detective." Carrick's voice was hard but inside he was melting with concern and fear for his boy. He took Christian's arm and led him out of the room. He was worried about his son's pale face and blank eyes.

Since being released from the psychiatric wing of Seattle General Hospital, Christian had been an automaton. His father and mother were not happy about this but it was certainly an improvement over his condition when he awoke from the catatonic state he'd been in for so many weeks.

CHAPTER 14

All those weeks of watching over Christian in the hospital had been demoralizing for his parents and siblings. His condition was worse than it first appeared. He had a serious concussion…bordering on brain damage…and the doctors couldn't predict whether he would waken or what he'd be like if he did. Sometimes he opened his eyes and smiled at nothing. Despite the seriousness of his condition, his vitals were fine. Perfect blood pressure, pulse rate. The brain scans were puzzling. The areas indicative of pleasure were lit up like Christmas all the time.

Then came the day that he suddenly came out of it…wild, crazy, terrified…screaming for his family. It took a week of easing him in and out of sedation before he could be allowed to be fully awake without sending his blood pressure sky-high…a week before he understood where he was…and where he wasn't.

Then there was the agony of watching him slowly coming to the realization that this was reality.

"I didn't build a cabin by a lake? I don't have a wife…a son?"

It tore the hearts out of his family to see him try to adjust to losing his beautiful life. He would close his eyes and mutter a name they couldn't understand. Annie? Stacy?

Gradually, he stopped speaking of the family that was never real. He retreated into himself. His psychiatrist, John Flynn, helped him adjust to the here and now. No one ever suspected that he'd tried to kill himself and now he slowly began to understand what they wanted of him…what it would take to get out of this locked ward on the tenth floor.

So, he invented a new persona…a pleasant, agreeable guy…and he was released. Existence continued. His business grew. His wealth grew. Life, in the eyes of his family, was back to normal. They could breathe once more.

Until this day…when everything changed again.

CHAPTER 15

As Taylor reached for the button to open the garage, Christian called to him to stop.

There was yellow police tape encircling a large area from his front door to further up the street and in the middle of it, a pool of blood left by Hyde's victim. He felt responsible for all of this carnage. One of the homeless yelled out to Grey.

"Hey, aren't you THE Christian Grey?" Grey looked up toward the voice.

"Yes, I am,"

"Well, there's something you ought to know. That little gal who got the beat-down was not living here in front of your building. She was hoping the lobby guard would let her in to talk to you."

"Do you know what she wanted with me?"

"I don't know what exactly…something about wrecking her car."

Grey returned to the car and ordered Taylor to head for Seattle General.

"Sir?"

"The woman who was beaten by Hyde is the same woman whose car I wrecked months ago."

Grey's voice was no longer a monotone. It was shaky with excitement and fear. His face, normally impassive, was pale as he ran his hands through his hair and grimaced at the memories. It was the first time in a long time that Taylor had been able to see a real person in Grey. Unfortunately, the man behind the mask was in trouble again…his emotions overpowering him. Taylor feared the effect on Grey if this woman wasn't Anastasia.

They had, of course, tried to find her while Grey was in a coma…all to no avail. The SPD revealed to Taylor that the inside of the VW indicated that Anastasia was living in the car. He couldn't get any information on her because he was not a relation. He didn't know how badly she'd been injured or when she was released and tracking homeless was impossible.

Anastasia Steele was off the grid.

CHAPTER 16

Behind her shuttered eyes, she was home. Despite the poverty and abuse of her childhood, she still loved the little cabin in the woods. While her father drank and raged…while her mother hid beneath the blankets with her bottles of pills…she ran to the woods and the pond. She'd swim for hours…then wander through the underbrush, foraging for berries. Sometimes she even ate insects…both because of her hunger and because she'd read that insects provided protein. Eventually, she had to return to the cabin but, by then, her father would have passed out. She'd gather up all the empty beer bottles and take them down to the grocery to return for the 5 cent deposits. She was saving the money for when she was old enough to leave. Her father never questioned the whereabouts of all the bottles he'd left lying around…nor did he notice that a couple of dollars were missing from his wallet. Nonetheless, she was a smart girl and a cautious girl. She changed the hiding places for her money frequently lest her parents become aware or suspicious and begin hunting for their daughter's treasure.

Periodically, she'd gather up her clothes and make a visit to the laundromat. She didn't pay any mind to the kids at school who mocked her pathetic rags. Everyone knew about the Steele family "issues". Sometimes a kind teacher would take her aside and present her with a new shirt or jeans. Hard as the teacher tried to be discrete and casual, the little girl felt some embarrassment and the other kids always knew.

Some days were harder than others and, on those days, she would resent her mother for not taking care of her like other mothers took care of their children. Still, in the end, she was grateful that her mother was like that because it relieved her of any guilt about leaving her with daddy. One day, she would pack her duffel and walk out the door without ever looking back.

And shortly after turning 18, she did just that.

CHAPTER 17

She splurged on a bus ticket, fearful of hitchhiking. She was petite, not strong, but she knew that once she reached Portland, she'd be safe. Portland was a magical city where everyone was welcome. So she'd heard. Fresh off the bus, she walked until she passed a bar & grill with a Help Wanted sign. It wasn't a bad place to work. She'd always been told that she was ugly but even so, she got good tips and, thanks to her father, she was used to drunks and abuse. The boss liked her because she never complained about anything…not like the other girls who did and then quit abruptly after some drunk squeezed their bums.

She found a room at a dingy boarding house. The other tenants were loud but she worked a lot of hours and was exhausted into a deep sleep when she got off work. One day, the boss told her to call the police about a rusty VW bug that had been parked in the lot for a couple of weeks. She went out to take a good look at it…figuring that it was someone's home.

She was right. It was someone's home…or had been. The body in the car was decomposing. The interior of the car was littered with syringes and bits of tin foil. After the body was removed, the cops were going to have the car hauled to the scrap metal place nearby but she asked them to let her have it. They thought she was crazy but, well, one man's junk is another man's treasure, right?

She spent all her spare time working on the car. She'd helped her father keep their old Buick running well past its expiration date so she knew enough to repair the bug. The most difficult part was cleaning the interior but she took a deep breath and dove in. Within a month, she was the proud owner of her own car…her very own junker.

After more than a year of the bar & grill, she was ready to move on. Portland was not the magical land she'd been led to believe it was. Seattle. Yes, that was the place to be. Beautiful Seattle where the rain cleaned the streets and washed the needles and the trash and the human waste down the drains.

Seattle would be magic and she would find happiness there.

CHAPTER 18

"You don't understand," Grey pleaded with the receptionist. "I'm responsible for this woman being hurt. I need to see her, to see how she is."

The receptionist was having a difficult time saying no to the handsomest face she'd ever seen. And his voice… Still, he wasn't a relative so she'd be risking her job to give this man access to Anastasia Steele.

"Tell you what. I'll relay your request to my supervisor. He's in a meeting right now but just as soon as he's available, I'll speak to him. You'll have to sit and wait." She smiled sympathetically but Grey wasn't humored. Grumbling, he flopped down in a chair in the waiting room of the hospital that his family had built. It hadn't occurred to him to leverage his name to get what he wanted.

Taylor watched him closely. Grey had been a zombie for so long that Taylor had never seen him so wound up. He was fearful of his boss's reaction if he didn't get what he wanted…soon.

Thankfully, the doors flew open several minutes later and a flushed-faced bald man rushed out.

"Mr. Grey! I apologize! I am so sorry to keep you waiting. Janet didn't understand how important you are to this hospital. I would have been with you immediately had I known that you were here. What can I do for you?"

The man was so frantic that his demeanor surprised even Grey.

"I want to see a young woman who was brought in this morning. She'd been beaten by one of my employees right in front of my building. I need to know her condition and all of her bills should be sent to GEH. I want to see her," he was rambling but he didn't notice.

"Of course. I know the young woman of whom you're speaking. Her name is Anastasia Steele. The police found her bag. We haven't been able to locate any relations so your offer to pay her bills is most welcome."

The supervisor took out his phone and spoke with someone named Elias. Then he smiled brightly at Grey.

"Ms. Steele is just waking up. Dr. Clay will escort you to her room." As he said this, a young doctor walked up and introduced himself to Grey. He then explained that Ms. Steele had fractured ribs, a broken arm, a moderate-to-severe concussion and numerous lacerations and contusions. Still, he said, she was lucky considering that she was stomped on and kicked and punched. He wouldn't ordinarily allow visitors as yet but Mr. Gilligan was vouching for Grey so…

"I hope you understand that she may be confused, frightened and, certainly, in considerable pain. She may not understand or be able to answer any questions. I can't allow you to stay long. After my examination, she'll be sedated. Please be patient."

Patient? Grey felt that he'd been patient all his life. Yes…he could do patient.

CHAPTER 19

Or not. As he followed Dr. Clay down the corridor, he clenched and unclenched his fist…trying to restrain himself from pushing the man. Sure, the good doctor could walk calmly to his destination. He wasn't jumping out of his skin. Grey didn't truly know anything about real patience…maybe because nothing in his life had ever been of this much importance to him. Even with his work, he didn't require patience. He knew that he'd get where he needed to go. He just had to plow ahead and everything would fall into place.

But Anastasia Steele? He'd no idea what he needed to do. He wasn't even clear on what he wanted. He only knew that he needed to look again into her eyes…and he feared that it wouldn't be the same as the time before. The last time he was half-drunk and suicidal and concussed. Maybe that's all it was…a moment and a pair of pretty eyes. And the dream? Just a hallucination due to the coma.

Suddenly, an overwhelming fear of disappointment made him stop as the doctor walked on and into a room. He felt Taylor's hand on his shoulder.

"Sir…perhaps we should give the doctor time to examine Ms. Steele privately. He'll let us know when we can go in. Let's just sit here for a bit."

So, they sat. Taylor was talking to him but Grey couldn't hear him. His mind kept going back to his dream. That girl was beautiful with long, glossy hair gleaming in the sunlight. She had a smile…a smile that soothed everything inside of him. She was warm and kind and sweet. All he'd truly ever seen of this girl was a pair of brilliant blue eyes and bloody dark hair with a bit of pale skin.

He was about to get up, to retreat, when Dr. Clay emerged from the room, smiling. He beckoned Grey to enter even as Grey hesitated…terrified. The first sign of hope in his life and it could be all wrong. Taylor gently urged him forward.

Taking a deep breath, Grey approached Dr. Clay who briefed him on Anastasia's condition which wasn't great but wasn't as awful as it could be either. She was alive. And Ms. Steele was aware of her visitor and wanted to see him before being sedated.

Walking into the room, Grey was disturbed by the amount of paraphernalia engulfing Ms. Steele. Monitors, tubes in her arms and nose, one arm in a cast, bandages everywhere. He was suddenly flooded by waves of fury. He wanted to kill Jack Hyde. This girl was half Jack's size and yet he had attacked her unmercifully simply for being in his way. Jack had a world of hurt coming to him.

CHAPTER 20

Her head was turned away and he thought she'd passed out again.

"Ms. Steele? This is Christian Grey. He's offered to pay all your medical bills," Dr. Clay said.

"All of them? From the last time as well?" She turned her head and he could see the strain of all the pain on her gaunt, wan face. She was struggling.

But her eyes, even dimmed by pain, were still brilliant blue. He couldn't look away.

"Do you talk, Mr. Grey?" He could see that it was difficult for her. She'd been kicked in the head…her lips swollen, her face black and blue and green. Her head was wrapped in bandages. She was missing teeth and the rest were yellow.

"Oh, yes, sorry. Yes, all of your bills, Ms. Steele, will be covered. Absolutely anything you need. Please don't fret about a thing. Hmmm….how do you feel?" He slowly pulled out a chair and seated himself next to her so that she could see him easily.

"Woozy. It's funny. The pain is bad but I feel floaty as well. Dr. Dishy is planning to keep me sedated through the worst of my recovery."

She faltered for a moment. "Ms. Steele?" Grey asked.

"I dream when I'm out. I don't want to do that. My dreams aren't good."

Grey bowed his head. "I wish I could protect you from your bad dreams."

"Do you have bad dreams?" she asked. Then she smiled wryly. "No. I guess not. Look at you."

Grey scoffed. "Is there anything at all that I can do for you that would ease your mind, ease your dreams?"

"Well, you destroyed my car, my home, actually. It certainly wasn't much but it was important to me. It wasn't worth anything but I could use the money. Probably a couple hundred?"

"I shall see that you get a new car.''

"Nothing too nice…just a bucket of rust that runs. I can't afford the registration fees."

"You didn't have a license on the car?" Grey asked in surprise.

"I don't have a license. Those costs money, too. The bug was perfect. I could park it tucked away in small spaces where the cops didn't see me. It was big enough for me to fit in to sleep. It didn't use much gas. I'd like to find another like it."

Grey stared at her in astonishment. "Do you have a job?"

"I've just gotten into town. When I'm released from here, I'll find something. I did work in a bar & grill but I've gotten kind of weary of being pinched and having to smile about it. Tips, you know."

Grey continued staring.

"Well, maybe you don't know. You do tip servers, don't you?"

"When I eat out, it's usually at my club…the Mile High on the top floor of the Columbia Center. I don't get a check and all my servers are paid well."

"Huh. Okay." The lids of her stunning eyes were getting heavy, he could see. He looked into her eyes for as long as he could until they closed.

He sat watching Ms. Steele for a while until a nurse told him that visiting hours were over.

CHAPTER 21

"Taylor, the SPD."

"Sir, may I suggest that having just seen Ms. Steele and the damage rendered onto her by Jack Hyde that perhaps right now would not be…"

"I'm certain that I won't have the opportunity to kill him while he's behind bars, Taylor. I just want to be sure that he stays there."

He hadn't. His attorney had already gotten him out on bail and, no, he didn't know where Jack had gone. A check of Jack's apartment yielded nothing. Grey notified the hospital and sent security to post outside of Ms. Steele's room.

But Jack wasn't angry with only Ms. Steele. She'd just been an easy target for his anger with Grey.

When Grey arrived back at Escala, the lobby guard informed him that a man had inquired about reaching Grey's penthouse and, when informed that he'd need an appointment or to be announced, the man had stuck around for some time kvetching about rich, spoiled, incompetent men who owed their wealth to their subordinates. Didn't the guard agree, the man wanted to know?

Finally, the guy stumbled off down the street. Yes, he'd been drinking.

Grey put security on him…find him…tail him and, most of all, keep him away from Anastasia. The last time he couldn't get to Grey, he got to Ms. Steele.

"Dad, they wouldn't tell me where he is or when he's supposed to be arraigned. It's essential that I keep track of this maniac."

Carrick refilled his son's glass of bourbon and then made some calls. He frowned at the response he received.

"Yes, Hyde is out on bail. I tried to call in a favor but they're not going to give out his address…his current address…to the father of the man he's been threatening. Apparently, during his brief jail term, he ranted about making you pay. He was released on his own recognizance, believe it or not, until the trial…which could be a month or more from now. His attorney convinced the judge that he was very upset and that you humiliated him in front of his employees…"

"His employees?!"

"Yes, yes. Anyway, the judge sympathized with his frustration with the homeless camping everywhere and believed him when he said that he himself could be homeless any time now and just wanted to rest. He described working for GEH as an almighty pressure cooker…said that there was a lot of turnover because people were cracking right and left."

Grey whipped out his phone and called Andrea.

"Andrea, what is the percentage of turnover at GEH compared to other companies of a similar size? Really? No, that's all.

"Jack is the only employee we've fired in three years. Any resignations have been due to retirement, babies and upward moves. Our turnover rate is so low compared to other companies that it's barely registered. My COO has a waiting list a mile long."

"Christian, did you have any indication that this Hyde fellow was unstable?"

CHAPTER 22

Anastasia opened her eyes to find Dr. Clay looking into them with his little flashlight.

"Am I still in there, doc?" She tried to smile but it hurt…everything did.

"I'm concerned that you aren't getting the deep rest you need. You thrash about. You cry out. You just…cry. The dreams are nightmares, aren't they?"

"Nothing I'm not used to, doc."

"I'm sorry to hear that. However, you need better rest. I'm going to put you on a stronger dosage to see if we can get you some good Rem sleep."

"Rem won't save me from Them," Anastasia giggled. "Rhymes!"

Dr. Carter didn't smile. "I'm also going to have our resident psychologist come have a talk with you. Perhaps some therapy…"

"Forget it, doc. I've accepted that I'm damaged beyond repair. I live with it. Just sleeping through all this pain is nice, though. Did I dream that a really handsome man came to see me?"

"Christian Grey," the doctor replied as he leaned over to plump up her pillows. "He calls every day. I hope that you don't mind that we update him on your condition. He and his family are our major donors. We can't afford to upset them. He isn't too intrusive…just worried, I'd say. He's even gone so far as to post guards outside your door. No one gets in here without my or your say-so."

"Guards! Yikes. What's that about? Does he think the guy who beat me up might come back for me?" Anastasia's banged-up face didn't disguise her alarm.

"Your assailant chose you simply because you were right in front of him but he could get wind of Mr. Grey's concern for you…paying your bills, visiting you. I think that Grey is just exercising an abundance of caution."

The doctor paused. "You lost a lot of blood. One of your cracked ribs punctured a lung. To be blunt, Ms. Steele…you almost died."

CHAPTER 22

Anastasia looked away. "Maybe you should have…" She stopped and then looked at the doctor again. "Tell the gorgeous Mr. Grey that he's welcome back anytime…and thank you. I don't think I said that to him when he was here."

"I've told him that we've been keeping you sedated most of the time but when he calls, I'll pass along the message."

He fiddled with a drip bag and checked the monitors one last time before leaving Anastasia. She looked around her room, first noticing that she seemed to be in a ritzy hotel room. Out the window, it was raining…washing down the filthy streets. Then her eye lids grew heavy. She allowed them to close. The movie of her pathetic life played out on the back of her lids and tormented her in her sleep.

She couldn't imagine that Christian Grey…wealthy, handsome, healthy, brilliant…was also tormented. The man who had it all had very little. His closeness with his father was his life's saving grace. Otherwise, he felt like a stranger in his own life. Anastasia had no idea that she bewitched him with her eyes. No one had ever shown any interest in her and so she had come to assume that no one ever would.

When someone did…her doctor, the nurses, Grey…she didn't recognize it. Everyone just doing their jobs, she thought. She'd asked for a mirror and, reluctantly, a nurse had handed one to her. She thought that Anastasia would be horrified at her reflection but she'd had little reaction at all…bruised, broken, greasy hair and dingy, missing teeth…she'd just shrugged it off. She didn't want to impress anyone and never imagined doing so.

She handed back the mirror, thanked the nurse and fell immediately to sleep. The nurse stroked her forehead and allowed a tear to fall from her eye. She sadly pondered what kind of life this girl must have had.

CHAPTER 23

"Sir? I have that information you wanted."

"This is it?" Grey asked, surprised at the thin file.

"Yes, sir. Lived with her parents until she finished high school. Then she hit the road. Lived in Portland for some time and then moved to Seattle. No employment records here but she did work at a bar & grill in Portland. She had a room there but here in Seattle, she's been living in her car."

"Yes, she told me. She's so young…only 20. How did she possibly get along on her own?"

"Rather seems that she's always gotten along on her own. We spoke with some people…neighbors, teachers…her family life was very rough. Alcoholic and abusive father. Addicted mother. Her employer in Portland told us that she found that car almost abandoned in the parking lot."

"Almost?"

"It was still…hmm…occupied by a body. Ms. Steele fixed up the car so it would run and was clean enough to live in."

"There was a body, a dead body, in the car?!" For a man who'd lived in luxury most of his life, this was unthinkable. What must that car have smelled like? Something else Grey was unaccustomed to…foul odors.

"Friends, Taylor?"

"Her teachers said that she was bright, but a loner. The other kids made fun of her and picked on her. I gather everyone in her small town knew of her situation at home but nothing was ever done about it. The grocer said that she'd bring empty beer bottles in for the deposits and sometimes use the money to buy a jar of peanut butter. He'd try to give her a loaf of bed but she was proud. He worried because she was so thin."

Taylor sighed. "She's a real sad story, sir."

"Well, we can do something about that, can't we?"

Taylor brightened and replied, "Yes, sir."

Deep in sleep…back home carrying beer bottles to the grocery…Anastasia had no idea that her life was about to get a makeover.

CHAPTER 24

Dinner, Sunday at Grey Manor, was the usual raucous affair…mostly due to Elliot and Mia arguing and Grace scolding them. Carrick and Christian simply ate their meals and then retreated to the study.

Carrick pulled his bottle of Maker's Mark out of its hiding place…hiding from Elliot, that is…and poured two tumblers to the brim. They settled in their respective chairs and said nothing for a time. It was always comfortable between them.

Carrick understood his son, his sadness, so he never intruded. He waited for Christian to speak.

"Learned a little more about Anastasia Steele." He removed some papers from his pocket and handed them to his father. Carrick quickly perused the files…then echoed his son's response.

"This is it?"

"Yep. She must be a strong girl to have made it this far. I'm hoping that she'll let me help her. After all, I destroyed her home," Grey grimaced.

"How is she doing now?" Carrick asked as he returned the file to his son.

"I check every day…even while I was in China. They keep her sedated mostly…because of the pain. I feel so responsible, Dad. And we can't find Hyde so I put guards on her 24/7. The doctor tells me that he's concerned about her mental state as well. She has horrific nightmares."

"Reading that, it's no wonder. Why didn't anyone ever do anything to protect her? Her teachers knew…hell, the whole town knew and all anyone did was buy her a new shirt and offer her some bread. Those parents of hers should have been investigated."

Carrick knocked back his drink and filled another glass. He was getting agitated.

"Taylor says that the town is small and tight-knit and no one meddles in anyone else's business. There isn't much in the way of government services for a hundred miles around. The police stopped by the house once after Anastasia didn't turn up for school for a couple of days. The old man was drunk. Told the cops that his daughter had the flu. When she did come back to school, she was limping and black and blue. The kids laughed at her and nothing was done."

Carrick looked pained…memories of his son when he and Grace adopted him. He was emaciated…his chest and back covered in cigarette burns. Christian never talked about that time and Carrick never pried.

"I can see the wheels turning, son. What's the plan?" He leaned forward in his chair, intent on his son's thoughts.

"Like I said…hope that she'll let me help. I get the sense that she isn't a complainer and is possibly too proud to accept help. I hope I'm wrong. Other than that, I don't have a plan…but I'm open to ideas." He tipped his glass to his father.

"I'll give it serious thought, Christian. I'll do anything I can. Right now, I'm going to start calling in some favors to try to find Jack Hyde…before he finds you. I hope that you're taking precautions."

"I live in a fortress, Dad. I have a security team," he attempted to reassure his father.

"Take nothing for granted, son…please." Carrick reached over and laid his hand on his son's knee. Christian nodded.

CHAPTER 25

That night Christian had nightmares of his own. As with Anastasia, this was nothing new. His were always the same…a brute of a man dragging him out of his hiding place and extinguishing cigarettes on his little body. The pain was so unbearable that he sometimes passed out. When he'd awaken, the brute would be beating up his mother because she'd gotten too high to work the streets that night. The pimp would be out a night's pay. Then he'd slam the door behind him and tiny Christian would climb up to the kitchen sink and wet a rag to press against his burns. It helped…a little. His mother would be splayed out on the floor, asleep. Christian would pull a ragged blanket over her and cuddle close. He never blamed her. This was his life. He didn't know any different.

He'd never been out of the room.

Sometimes, after the nightmare, Christian would lapse back into sleep. Other times, he'd wake up in a cold sweat, trembling. Then he'd wander the house or play some dirge on his grand piano.

He recalled the day that he bought the piano. The movers were so appreciative of the freight elevator…telling Grey stories of having to hoist pianos up the side of buildings and fit them through windows.

When they left him alone with the piano, he checked it for out-of-tune keys and was amazed to find none. He loved that piano. He'd pat it and think of the Billy Joel tune about his best friend, his baby grand. Thousands of hours of practice and he loved every minute.

He loved to impress his mother but, after a time, she grew used to his playing and didn't pay as much attention. Still, he'd lose himself in the keys.

He'd often wake in the morning, having slept on those keys. He'd close the fall board and head for his gym where he'd work for 30 hard minutes. Then he'd don a sweatsuit and leave for a long run. Taylor was always behind him. Grey never gave it a thought.

After his run, he'd shower, dress and go to the office. Some days he'd seal big deals and other days, he'd hunt for them.

Taylor would come for him around 7 and by 8, Grey would be fed and in his study, working until midnight.

Every couple of weekends, he'd call his favorite escort agency.

CHAPTER 26

"Elena's Elite Escorts, how may I help you?"

"This is Christian Grey." That was all he had to say. Elena dealt only with the finest of Seattle and Grey was the elite of the elite. He received premium service only.

"Christian, darling. How are you? I read about that awful display outside your building. Honestly, those homeless…all druggies and prostitutes. They shouldn't be allowed in certain neighborhoods and certainly not in front of your beautiful building."

"Not all of the homeless are addicts, Elena. In fact, the girl who was beaten was just a girl with no place to live."

"Well, I don't understand why all those tents are allowed on the sidewalks. There's no reason to be homeless, anyway. We have, unfortunately, a large slum area where these people could get rooms. There never used to be homeless. I blame all the liberals."

Christian almost snickered. "Yes, well, let's take care of business, shall we? You know that I don't like to repeat an experience so please don't try that again. You may think I don't notice if a girl colors her hair or changes her name but, Elena, I do."

"I remember a time," Elena purred, "when you enjoyed repeating an experience…often."

"Yes, well, I'm not a teenage boy anymore, Ms. Lincoln. I have options now and I'd like to exercise them. I think something brunette with blue eyes this time. Do you have anyone like that?"

"Yes. You know me…always on the lookout for someone new. Most of my regulars like to spend time with someone familiar. However, you're different. Maybe…I mean…have you considered that you're looking for someone who can give you the fun you had when you were 15?"

"No."

Elena sighed. Well, she had a stable of young boys to teach. There would never be another like Christian Grey but she could make do.

CHAPTER 27

At precisely 8:00, Chelsea arrived at Christian Grey's penthouse. Like all those before her, she was dazzled by the building, the elevator, the wall of windows showing the lights of Seattle and, of course, by the beautiful man standing before her.

Her breath caught in her throat. She simply stared at him. He was used to this…except now, when he recalled Anastasia's nonchalance, it seemed wrong. Nonetheless, he needed a good fuck and Chelsea, like all of Elena's girls, was well-trained to give it to him.

He led her by her elbow to the plush sofa in front of the fireplace in the great room. Smiling, he offered her a glass of an excellent wine…wondering if Anastasia had ever had a good glass of wine…doubtful.

Together, he and Chelsea sat on the sofa, sipping wine and eating cheese and grapes off exquisite china. They chatted for a while. He expressed interest in her life and she gaped at him. She'd seen pictures of him, of course…but it was rather like seeing photos of the Grand Canyon and then gasping when the real thing was spread out in front of you. The finest photographer had never been able to capture Christian Grey.

When he realized that the wine had had its effect and Chelsea was relaxed, he leaned gently forward and kissed her cheek…remarking on her delicious scent and the softness of her skin. Then he slid a piece of paper in front of her and offered up a fountain pen. While he nuzzled her neck, he explained that the document was an NDA…a non-disclosure agreement. She was never to speak of this night…as if it never happened. Should he discover that she'd gossiped about it to her friends or, god forbid, a tabloid, there would be consequences.

"What sort of consequences?" she warily inquired.

"Life-altering consequences," he warned.

Gulping, Chelsea signed. Damn, she thought. She'd planned on a wonderful girl's lunch the next day…every detail of her night with this Adonis shared with her rapt audience.

With the NDA signed, Grey would begin the make-out. Truth be told, he wasn't really that interested in the intimacy of kissing this strange woman but it was expected…part of the foreplay. It also seemed to arouse his partner so he went along with it. All he really cared about was his orgasmic release.

However, he was a gentlemen and even though he was paying for her services, he intended for her to enjoy her evening, too.

CHAPTER 28

After a suitable period of time, he would politely inquire as to whether the young lady would like to see the master suite. He would say this in a somewhat low and raspy voice to imply arousal and the girl would always reply in kind. He would take her hand and lead her to his bed where he would rather urgently undress both her and himself.

He would always ensure that she had her orgasm first…often more than one, actually, and when he was certain that she was completely satisfied, he would go after his own. He was an excellent fucker. The women never understood that he wasn't making love to them, that he felt no passion for them…but he played his part so well that they were all convinced that their time with him was special. They would enthusiastically take his cock into their mouths and delight in its impact on him.

He never fell asleep first. They would nestle into his chest, sighing…sure that this was not just an ordinary assignment but that he would request their company again and again until they could resign from Elena's Elite Escorts and move into the penthouse with their new lover.

As soon as their breathing evened out, Grey would disentangle himself from their limbs and move as far away as possible from a body he truly wanted nothing more to do with. None of the women ever got up to leave after they'd completed their assignment as they chose to do with other men. Grey was too good for his own good. So, he would sleep…fitfully. His nightmares never woke the women. His subconscious seemed to know that he should quickly awaken.

In the morning, he would greet his guest with an invitation to breakfast. This would get them out of his bed, showered and dressed. He would scramble eggs, offer toast and fruit and then usher them to the elevator. They would coo and bat their eye lashes and tell him what a wonderful night they'd had and to please avail himself of their company again soon.

The moment the elevator doors closed, he'd return to his bedroom and try to get some rest. He'd already forgotten the night.

When Elena would call to see if he was satisfied with the girl she'd chosen for him, he'd be in his study…distracted by work.

"How did things go with Chelsea?"

"Who?"

"The girl with whom you spent the night? Honestly, Christian. She floated through the office this morning in a sexed-up haze. Told me to clear her calendar because she would only be seeing you from now on. 'Course, they all say that."

"I didn't promise Shelly anything. There was no discussion of tomorrows. There never is. I don't know where they get these ideas. What did she say about last night?"

"Chelsea said nothing. That NDA you make them sign is quite effective."

"Yes, well, that NDA you signed had better be effective as well, Elena."

CHAPTER 29

Anastasia seemed to have been hospitalized forever. A nurse had helped her out of bed and over to a recliner next to the window. It was a nice view. She'd never been so far from the ground. She could see over the trees and buildings. The day was sunlit and the leaves were beginning to turn.

She tried not to think about the coming winter and where she would go. She'd overheard the doctor talking to the nurse about how well she had healed and that soon she could be released. Released to where? She no longer had her car and no money for a room. She supposed that she ought to ask about shelters close to the hospital. She'd have to return here for check-ups until she had fully recovered.

Shelters were tough places and she was nervous about the idea of dealing with the other inhabitants while she had only one good arm. And who would tape up her ribs? She wondered if the hospital would allow her to take her toothbrush and paste with her. The police had returned her duffel bag to her so she had a change of clothing at least.

The joy of sitting in the sun and admiring the view had dimmed as she focused on her next steps. People thought that the homeless were lazy. They didn't realize how hard one had to work when that poor. Suddenly, she felt unbearably tired and defeated. She laid her head in her hands and let her tears flow…a luxury she could ill-afford. Soon, she would have to hold her head up and be brave again.

But for now…for a short while…she could be weak and worn. She had a few more days of leaning on others.

When the nurse returned to check on Anastasia, she found her asleep…head hung down.

CHAPTER 30

"Already? What about her ribs? Her arm?"

"Those can be taken care of post-hospitalization, Mr. Grey. She'll have to return, of course, for check-ups but otherwise, she's good to go. She's been here for a month…mostly because of the concussion and malnutrition. However, she's stronger now…except for a few weeks of healing of her ribs and arm. She'll need to rest, of course."

"Rest where? She's homeless. She has no family…no friends." Grey was growing increasingly agitated.

"She's a quite determined young woman, Mr. Grey…and independent. Our social worker has signed her up for state aid and found her a room. Anastasia will be released this morning."

As Dr. Clay walked away, Grey pictured a spear piercing his back. He hadn't imagined that Ms. Steele would be leaving so soon and he'd yet to locate a suitable vehicle for her. He had, in fact, endeavored to put her out of his mind. He'd kept up her guards and his father had tracked down Jack Hyde's latest hole but, other than that, Grey had been on autopilot as usual.

As he walked toward her room, he hoped to find her looking strong and fit…ready to be independent.

She was sitting on the side of the bed, her duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Her dark hair bounced in a pony tail as she struggled with something. A closer look revealed that she was trying to tie her shoelaces.

"Here. Let me," he said, kneeling down before her. The hems of her jeans were frayed. As he looked up, he could see that a month of hospital food had not increased her weight. Her belt was twice the length she needed and her flannel shirt was clearly sizes too big for her small body. The lacerations all over her face had faded and she was no longer swollen and bruised. When she thanked him for tying her shoe, she was still missing teeth and those that remained were stained.

But her eyes. Anastasia's eyes. He stumbled back a bit as he tried to stand. He'd never been quite able to put those eyes out of his mind in the past month and now, seeing them again, he knew that he never would. They would haunt him the rest of his days. He would need to look into them always.

CHAPTER 31

"Come. Let me carry that for you," Grey said as he took her bag from her shoulder. She didn't argue although the bag wasn't heavy. There wasn't much in it, he realized. She had so little.

A nurse rolled a wheelchair into the room and Anastasia eased herself into it. It was clear that her ribs were bothering her. She smiled up at the nurse and thanked her for taking care of her all these weeks. The nurse told her than it had been her pleasure.

The three were silent as they made their way down the hall to the elevator and then the lobby. The nurse leaned over Anastasia from behind and hugged her…wishing her well…before helping her out of the chair. Anastasia limped over to a bench and sat.

"Why are we sitting here?" Grey asked.

Anastasia laughed. "I don't know why you're sitting here, Mr. Grey, but I'm waiting for my bus. My room is several blocks away and I'm not up to walking there yet."

"How are you going to manage on your own?"

"The way I always have."

"Who'll tape your ribs?"

"I've been practicing. I'll be okay. You know, getting beaten up hasn't been so bad. I have a social worker now who's going to help me pay for the room and buy food. When I'm well enough, she's even going to help me find a job." She sounded so hopeful and even excited about her prospects.

"And after that?"

"What do you mean?" Anastasia looked puzzled. Beyond having a place to sleep and a job to pay the bills, what was there?

"I mean, what do you want to do with your life?"

"Do?" Anastasia looked off into the distance. Grey noticed her long eyelashes and the sweet curve of her mouth. Then she turned to face him and shrugged.

"Sir? You have to be getting back to Escala to interview potential housekeepers. Shall we go?" Taylor made a gentlemanly bow toward Anastasia. She looked up at him.

"Gosh, you're tall." She struggled to her feet, standing in front of Taylor. "You're still tall," she giggled. Indeed, he loomed over her. Taylor found himself smiling.

"Oh, there's the bus. Don't want to miss it. Thank you for everything you've done for me, Mr. Grey. I would never have been able to pay the hospital bill. I would have been in debt for the rest of my life." She reached to retrieve her bag from Grey but he didn't let go. She pulled on it.

"Mr. Grey? My bag? I'm missing my bus." She looked frantic now as the bus doors closed.

CHAPTER 32

Jack Hyde may have been unstable but he was smart and cunning. He knew the men lurking around the building were Grey's men. They dressed like bums and tried to blend in with the people living on the streets…in tents, under tarps, in shelters made from salvaged boards and metal sheets…but they were just a little too clean and relaxed. The true homeless were always looking around, watching for trouble.

He smirked behind the filthy shades of his room. Heck, if they'd found him here, he might just as well go back to his upscale apartment. Here, however, he found it easier to roam at night…undetected. Here, too, he figured that girl would end up. It was her fault that he'd spent time in jail and been charged with assault. He cackled. Assault, hell. He'd intended to kill her. Now it was a game to find a way to finish the job and get away with it.

God, it had been such a rush to stomp on her face…to watch the blood gush out of her nose and mouth. His legs felt so strong as he kicked her with everything he had…trying to push his pointed boots through her chest. He would have succeeded, too, if that goon of Grey's hadn't gotten in his way. Just a few more minutes and he'd be up for murder.

He would have gotten away with that as well. He knew how to fake insanity. He could have blamed his breakdown on working for Grey…on Grey humiliating him in front of everyone. Oh, the headlines….

Christian Grey drives man to kill.

Innocent homeless waif dies due to arrogant Grey.

GEH employees testify to toxic conditions.

Yeah. He'd get 10 years and be out in 7. Now he'd have to get her before the trial, before having to wait maybe five more years.

Hyde stared out the window…eyes wild and crazy.

CHAPTER 33

Anastasia stared out the windows of the Mercedes SUV…her hands against the glass like a little kid. The city was still new to her…especially the bright, shiny parts. So many tall buildings and all so fancy. She recalled finding her way to Grey House and being awed by the mountain of blue glass. She had naively anticipated simply walking in the door, finding Mr. Grey and asking him to please reimburse her for her car. Instead, she'd found people living on the sidewalks, locked doors and guards asking for identification and appointments. She'd tried to explain to them that Mr. Grey had destroyed her car and she needed him to get her another but they just laughed at her…this skinny drug addict, this crazy street dweller. And then a man came out of the door who did pay attention to her…

Anastasia closed her eyes, attempting to blot out the pain of his fist in her face. She swallowed teeth as his boot pounded her cheeks into the pavement. She didn't feel the kicks. She was already unconscious by then.

"Is the blood still there, Mr. Grey?" He winced. "I saw pictures of it in the newspapers at the hospital. It was like a dark pond."

"That's all been cleaned, Anastasia. You won't have to look at it," he reassured her.

"Mr. Grey, I don't understand why I'm going to your house. I have a room. The social worker says that it even has a bed. I know your house is probably nicer but I'll be fine on my own."

"Well, I won't be fine with you on your own. I'll speak with your social worker and explain the situation. My place will be safer for you and I'll engage a nurse to come by every day."

Anastasia looked at him with wide, bewildered eyes. She'd gotten used to being cared for at the hospital. Maybe she'd get used to this new arrangement as well. Still…it was strange.

Taylor thought it strange as well. Grey, taking in a homeless woman. He knew Grey felt some responsibility for her but this was going pretty far. He also saw the way that Grey looked at the girl but, good grief, they had nothing in common. Ms. Steele had an education from some sad little school in a backwoods town . He certainly couldn't picture her parents at Grey Manor for Thanksgiving. They had no interests to share. Grey was a sophisticated man of the world…literally. He'd been everywhere, done everything. He spoke several languages and had a near-genius IQ.

Taylor could only conclude that Grey's guilt over Ms. Steele's circumstances was stronger than reasonable. He would have to keep a close eye on things to be sure that his boss wasn't bamboozled.

CHAPTER 34

As Taylor swooped down into the darkness of the garage, Anastasia involuntarily grabbed Grey's arm in fright.

"How come he didn't crash?" she asked as they settled into one of Grey's parking spaces.

Grey chuckled. "He's done this a thousand times."

Anastasia closed her eyes for a moment. "So, Mr. Taylor has worked for you for 2 years and 330 days?" Both Taylor and Grey were startled.

"Almost three years…yes…that's correct." Anastasia simply nodded. As Grey helped her from the car, she looked around at the huge garage.

"A lot of people live in this building, uh? So many cars."

"Well, this garage is mine alone. The rest of the building has a separate garage."

"So, you own all these cars?! Why?" she gasped. Before he could answer, she remarked that a lot of people could live in this garage. Then Grey was speechless. She was right, of course. All those people huddling under whatever cover they could find to avoid being drenched could stay dry in this garage.

"Mr. Grey is also a philanthropist, Ms. Steele," Taylor offered up in Grey's defense. "He donates millions every year to charitable causes…including the homeless."

"Millions?" She gaped. "How do you have enough money left for yourself? Boy, I wonder why everyone is so poor? Where I used to live, back home, there were only a couple of families who were really poor. One of the nuns at my grade school said that the pope said that the poor will always be with us. I guess he was right."

"Anastasia," Grey asked softly, "was yours one of the poor families?"

"Uh huh. But we had a place to sleep and some food. It was a shock when I first saw Portland…that's where I lived before…and all the people living on the sidewalks. Did you know that some of them have houses on wheels?! It was all kinds of people and all kinds of places to sleep in. I got used to it but it was really strange at first."

"And where did you live in Portland?" he asked, although he already knew the answer. He found that he just like the sound of her voice. Even when she was excited, it was soft and soothing.

"I lived in a boarding house. I shared a bathroom but I had my own room. It was sorta nice, too. I only had to walk a mile or so to work but it was kinda scary at night…until I got my car." Her voice was suddenly sad.

CHAPTER 35

As the elevator doors opened, Anastasia predictably gasped. People always did but Anastasia's reason was not the usual. She flattened herself against the back wall of the car.

"How do you not fall out?"

"The glass is very strong," Grey answered. Then he realized that the glass was so clean that it appeared to be missing. He'd have to tip the cleaners.

Anastasia cautiously approached the wall of glass, standing several feet back.

"Would you like to go out onto the balcony?" Grey reached behind the curtain and pushed the door open. Anastasia looked down at the balcony floor and then at the glass surround. She shook her head.

"It's very safe. I stand out here a lot." His guest was having none of it. Instead, he took her on a tour…the kitchen, the great room. She was fascinated by a fireplace that wasn't a stove used to warm the whole house. She was also fascinated by his library. She asked why he kept all these books when he could just go to the library downtown. Since he had an address, he could get a library card! He had no answer for that and he didn't want to explain that every book was a first edition, an investment. He didn't want her to know that he didn't read them. It was something else that she wouldn't understand.

Grey was not completely clueless. He knew that the gulf between him and Anastasia was overwhelming. He knew that he was becoming obsessed with a girl seven years younger and from a world far from his but he couldn't help himself. He kept thinking that if he looked into her eyes enough that the magic in them would gradually dull. Still, now, he was bewitched.

Anastasia was accustomed to small indoor spaces…little rooms, low ceilings, tiny hallways. She wasn't awed by the enormity of the penthouse. Rather, she was intimidated. She had to resist the urge to curl into a ball. It was as if this "home" was a giant creature hovering around her…waiting to attack.

Grey didn't notice her trepidation. He wasn't a man who'd ever noticed other people's emotions much…or cared to…but with this girl, he wanted to be all things. He just didn't know how. So, he attributed her silence to shyness and to being overwhelmed by the beauty of his magnificent home.

Anastasia eyed the elevator and thought of the cozy room that had awaited her in a familiar-feeling run down neighborhood. Unfortunately, Grey had already alerted the social worker of the change in plans.

He would now be Anastasia's social worker.

CHAPTER 36

"Sir. None of the applicants were acceptable to you?" Taylor frowned. Grey had interviewed a dozen housekeepers and found something…something small…wrong with every one of them.

"Suppose you tell me, as precisely as possible, what it is that you want in a housekeeper?"

"She has to be a good cook. She has to clean well. She has to look after Anastasia when I'm gone."

Taylor sighed. "I know just the person, Mr. Grey." He turned around and left the study. He pulled out his phone and called the agency again. "Send another candidate. Someone warm and motherly."

When Mrs. Jones walked off the elevator, Taylor smiled. Oh, this one would do. She was small…with rosy cheeks and her blonde hair in a bun…a warm smile on her face. She had a rather no-nonsense look about her. Best of all, she totally looked like someone's mother.

"Mrs. Jones, welcome to the Grey Penthouse. Please don't be worried about its size. Most of it isn't in use and Mr. Grey has a cleaning service in once a month. There are only a few rooms that you'll be required to clean regularly. I'll introduce you to Mr. Grey."

Taylor showed her to the study. Grey stood and greeted her. She launched right in before he had a chance to speak.

"This is a list of my particulars, my expected salary, jobs that I will not do. I expect to live in. I will be on-call round the clock six days a week. Sundays I visit my sister who is ill."

Grey studied her "particulars". "You don't clean up employer's vomit?"

"If you are ill, that is one thing. If you are drunk, that is another."

"You don't gather condoms?"

"A previous employer practiced BDSM. I had no objection to his sexual kink but I would not sweep up after him. As a general rule, I do not deal with my employer's bodily fluids."

"Oookay," Grey said. "I guess that would be #5 on the list…a warning to watch my aim."

Mrs. Jones nodded. "Can you make mac and cheese?" he asked.

Mrs. Jones looked offended and Grey had the sudden urge to never offend Mrs. Jones.

"I'll take that as a yes. Well, all right. There is an apartment behind the kitchen that I think you'll find sufficient. One of my security team can pack up your things and bring them here. Later, we'll discuss my schedule and that of my houseguest. Her ribs are fractured. Do you have any objection to wrapping them?"

Mrs. Jones didn't blink. She nodded and stood up to leave, remarking that she'd have "his man" show her to her quarters. Grey felt bulldozed.

CHAPTER 37

"What are you doing about Hyde, son?"

"Let's pay him a visit…you and me, little bro. We'll beat the living shit out of him."

Christian considered Elliot as his older brother demonstrated his stomping technique.

"El, have you ever assaulted anyone?"

"I've been in a few bar brawls," Elliot bragged.

"Oh, yes, I remember now. Split lips, eyes swollen shut. That girl who tore a bunch of your hair out."

"She wasn't a "girl", Chris," Elliot objected. "She was a biker chick, an amazon."

Grey shook his head and turned his attention back to his father. They should have gone to his study. His mother, Grace, was puttering around…cleaning up after the cleaning lady.

Mia had her nose in her phone, noting all the apparel she'd need to go pick up soon. Grey had tired of writing checks and had just given her a black Amex.

"I have a team of men watching his building. He sneaks out the back and wanders around. I guess he thinks that Anastasia will be moving in soon. He's a filthy wreck."

"Doesn't sound dangerous at the moment," Carrick observed.

"No…but the closer his trial, the more anxious he'll become to stop Anastasia from testifying. I wish you could get her out of that obligation, Dad. She can't identify him, anyway. She's forgotten the whole thing which the doctor says is normal for traumatic events. Poor kid. Her whole life has been one big traumatic event."

"I could take her shopping, Chrissy. That always makes me feel better."

Elliot smirked at his sister. "Then you must feel fabulous every minute of the day."

"Oh, shut up, El. Go run around in some mud."

"That reminds me. Chris, got to talk to you about a new project."

"Just tell me how much and I'll have Andrea transfer the funds in the morning, El."

"Don't you want to hear about it, Chris?" It was hard to miss the disappointment in Elliot's voice but Grey did. "It's an entire apartment complex…six buildings. Upscale stuff. I'm really getting a rep."

"Uh huh. Dad, all those favors you were going to call in…any luck getting Hyde back into jail?"

"No. But I think I found out why. He comes from money."

CHAPTER 38

"Hello, Father," Hyde said with a sarcastic droll.

"Jack, I sent someone round to your apartment today and it appears that you haven't been there in some time. Where are you? What's going on?"

"I found other accommodations, Mon père…something more appropriâtes for my current station in life."

"What station are you talking about?"

"Criminal."

"Jack, you made a mistake but that monster you worked for is responsible for your state of mind at the time. Why not come home? Your mother and I are quite concerned for you. You need our support during this difficult time."

"You and your third wife live in Portugal. I'm not allowed to leave the state while out on bail. Besides, I have things that I have to do here. Thanks for getting me out of jail and paying for a good lawyer but I have to go now."

"Wait, son…." Click.

Jack put the phone down. Portugal…as if. His asshole father and the strumpet he married could go to hell, for all he cared. He could milk that cow dry, he knew. It was handy having money in the family. Family. What a joke! Right after his mother died, his father had shipped his seven-year-old ass off to a boarding school and then gone on to marry his mistress. The old man even left him at school during the Christmas holidays. Summer breaks were spent with a nanny while his father holidayed with the second wife.

That is, until he met the new mistress who wanted to play mommy. Jack was forced to live with the two lovers who groped each other right in front of him. When his father made the mistress his third wife, Jack was forced to call her Mommy and put up with her hugging and kissing him. A few mishaps and Jack was once again sent off to a boarding school for children in need of discipline.

He got through it all by plotting their deaths. He postponed his plans for them when he got into Oxford and managed to stay away for six years while he got his Masters in business.

He would take care of them after he took care of Grey and that girl.

CHAPTER 39

Whilst Jack Hyde was plotting her demise, Anastasia was wandering unaware around Grey's penthouse. She'd never seen so much that was indoors. The place went on and on. Much of it was empty rooms and she couldn't help thinking of her fellow homeless. Her hints to Grey had gone over his privileged head.

She was glad that he had gone to his office today. She had time to herself…which she greatly prized. Mrs. Jones was a sweet lady who wrapped her ribs and checked the worst of her lacerations for signs of infection. Mostly though, she let her be.

She fed her wonderful meals. Anastasia had never eaten well in her life. Back home, she ate a lot of bread and peanut butter…often just the latter. At the bar & grill, she ate a lot of chili and burgers. In Seattle, there was dumpster food. It was all she knew but here…dishes she'd never heard of in her life. Grey or Mrs. Jones often had to explain to her what it was that she was eating. And, truth to tell, she occasionally longed for a simple burger.

Still, she certainly felt lucky. Here she had a bed in a beautiful room with a bath all to herself. Often, she sat up at night by the window, watching the stars like she could back home. The penthouse was high enough in the sky to see beyond the city lights.

It was while she was awake those nights that she'd hear his cries…his nightmares. Then, shortly after, she'd hear lovely piano music. She often thought of going to him…trying to soothe him somehow. However, then she'd remember the times that she tried to help her mother and how badly that went. Maybe Mr. Grey would be angry with her and then tell her to leave.

She knew that she'd have to leave sometime…she was healing…but the thought saddened her. It wasn't just because she'd have to go back to the streets or a room. It was because she'd be alone again. Here, she had friends…of a sort.

When she woke in the morning, there was Mrs. Jones…smiling, asking her how she was feeling, checking her ribs and taking her temperature…unnecessary but vital to Mr. Grey. He was usually gone by the time she got up but he'd be home each evening to have dinner with her. With some encouragement, he would talk about his day. She didn't understand a lot of it but she liked the way his face would light up as he looked into her eyes.

She was a smart girl although she didn't know it. She would have gotten good grades in school if she could have done her homework but that was impossible at her house. If the moon was bright enough, she would try to study for exams but after staying up too late, she'd fall asleep in school. One of her teachers told her that her that she wasn't living up to her potential but Anastasia didn't understand.

There was so much to learn.

CHAPTER 40

Mr. Grey's library was a wonder. Anastasia had never heard of most of the authors but she'd get excited to find one that she did. Harper Lee and To Kill A Mockingbird…that one was assigned in high school. Anne Frank's Diary…she'd only made it halfway through that book because it was so sad and there was already so much sadness in her life that her heart hurt to read more. It was the same with the story about bombing Hiroshima.

She found a series called Harry Potter and just devoured it. Grey arrived home one night and was disappointed that Anastasia didn't greet him at the elevator. He looked forward to that all day. His heart sank. Had she gone? No. No!

"Mr. Grey?" Mrs. Jones came out from the kitchen to find Grey standing still and bereft.

She was alarmed at the look on his face.

"Mr. Grey, Anastasia is in the library. She's been reading all day…those Harry Potter books, I believe. I couldn't even get her to stop to eat lunch. Perhaps you can get her to come to dinner. We're having her favorite…pot roast."

Mrs. Jones' heart lightened as she saw his face relax.

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Mrs. Jones." He dropped his briefcase where he stood and turned to walk quickly toward the library. His heart was pounding and his breath coming fast as he rushed into the "book room" as Anastasia often called it.

There he found his heart's desire curled into a chair, nose in a thick book. She looked up and beamed at him. He wasn't thinking. His relief…his gratitude…his infatuation was so great that he just pulled her up and into his arms and held her tightly against him…murmuring her name over and over.

Naturally, she was startled. She froze. He'd released her before she had a chance to realize how nice it felt to be held. Instead, her emotions had fallen back on familiar feelings of fear. The last time someone had grabbed her….

He saw the terror in her eyes. He stepped back and tried to speak but she dropped the book and ran. What have I done? He wondered.

He followed but she'd locked herself in her room and then her en suite. Helpless to deal with her feelings, she stripped out of her clothes…the pretty clothes that he'd bought her…and fled into the shower. She all but scalded herself and then scrubbed herself red and raw with the loofah…desperately seeking to be clean again. Finally, she crumpled on the shower floor and sobbed…letting out years of heartache.

CHAPTER 41

He leaned against her door. Even through its thickness and the bath door and the roar of the shower, he could hear her. He slumped to the floor, feeling ill. He'd taken advantage. He'd no right to hold her like that. He'd ruined everything and hurt her so. She'd leave him now.

He couldn't think. He could only sit with his face in his hands and his head on his knees…a ball of agony. Mrs. Jones stood at the end of the hallway, watching. Soon, Taylor joined her.

"What the hell happened?"

"I don't know exactly. He went into the library and a bit later, Anastasia came running out like a house afire. She looked, well, simply scared to death. He followed shortly after…face as white as a sheet. Both of them destroyed. I don't know what to do, Jason."

Taylor could see that this woman he'd come to have feelings for was about to cry so he put an arm around her shoulder…hoping that he wasn't overstepping. But no. She leaned against his strong body for comfort. They stood there together, befuddled.

Taylor was not used to all this drama. The arrival of Anastasia had upended his quiet home life. He couldn't deny liking the girl and the hiring of Mrs. Jones had brightened his world.

Yet, he was at a loss as to how to deal with the differences in his boss's demeanor these days. He was no longer a zombie and that was good, Taylor supposed…but he was now other things. Glum in the mornings as they left Anastasia behind…Irritable and impatient at the office as he waited for the day to end…giddy in the car on the way home and a grinning idiot all evening. There were often security issues to discuss but his distracted boss was ill-equipped to deal with them.

And now this. Well, he couldn't leave the man on the floor. Taking a deep breath, Taylor walked to Grey and squatted down to speak with him.

"Sir…is there anything I can do?"

"She's locked herself in and won't talk to me," Grey mumbled.

"May I ask…what is the trouble?"

"I…I hugged her without her permission, Jason."

"Well, sir, that doesn't seem worthy of all this melodrama. I'm sure that if you just explain that you were happy to see her…"

"I scared the life out of her and now she's in the shower, crying her heart out."

"A bit of an over-reaction," Taylor grumped. He removed something from his pocket and picked the lock. Grey looked at him, stunned.

"Jason, we're violating her privacy!"

"We're coming to her rescue, sir," Taylor replied. Mrs. Jones rushed down the hallway and up to the en suite door. She knocked softly but loud enough to be heard over the shower.

"Anastasia, sweetheart, please let me in. I want to help you. Please, dear."

CHAPTER 42

The water stopped. The door lock turned. Mrs. Jones slowly entered the room, closing the door behind her.

She found Anastasia, red as a lobster, head to toe. Concerned but calm, she motioned to her to sit on the stool next to the vanity counter. Holding a bottle of Aloe lotion, she applied it gently all over the girl's body. She couldn't do anything about her red eyes, however.

Then she hoisted herself up onto the counter to sit and talk. It took some time and reassurance until Anastasia unburdened herself. She had never had anyone care to know how or why she was feeling anything. It was difficult but she slowly revealed one of her ugliest secrets to Mrs. Jones…who struggled to remain still and unaffected. It wouldn't do for her to gasp and moan over the horror of it.

After they talked, Mrs. Jones could understand why Anastasia was startled and even frightened by Mr. Grey's show of affection. She explained to Anastasia the difference between Mr. Grey's feelings for her and what she'd experienced in the past. She encouraged her to speak with him. It would do both of them a world of good, she explained.

To her surprise, the girl agreed. Mr. Grey had been so good to her. He didn't deserve to be left in the dark and worried.

"Anastasia would like to talk with you, Mr. Grey. She'll need a few minutes to get dressed. Why don't you come into the kitchen and have a drink first while you wait?"

Looking stupefied, Grey stumbled to his feet and followed Mrs. Jones out to the kitchen. He said nothing for some time and then he asked if Anastasia was still crying.

"Not right now but she may begin again. Don't be upset or react. Just listen. That's all…listen. It may be hard to do but you must be still and let her speak. Do you understand?"

He nodded but Mrs. Jones wasn't sure and Taylor was shaking his head. Well, they had certainly done all they could. They were by now aware that Grey and Ms. Steele were not usual people. They would have to find their own odd way.

CHAPTER 43

Christian sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hands and nervously awaiting Anastasia's arrival. Anastasia sat on the edge of her bed, trying to get up the courage to go and talk with Mr. Grey. Neither was moving.

Finally, Christian, being the more impatient of the two, got to his feet and made his way down the hall. He knocked gently on the door and listened for permission to enter.

"Come in," Anastasia called in a tremulous voice. He entered and took a seat in the chair across the room. He didn't want to pressure her.

"Anastasia, if you don't want to tell me anything, it's all right. I'm sorry for just grabbing you in the library without asking. I was just so happy to see you," he managed to rush through the words.

Anastasia stared at him. "You were happy to see me?"

"Yes. I wait all day just to get home to you." Grey was astonished at the emotions freefalling out of him. It was just that looking into Anastasia's eyes broke the dam inside of him.

She smiled. "I wait all day for you, too, Mr. Grey."

"Could you please call me Christian?" Grey gulped.

"Hmm…Christian." She paused and drew in a deep breath for courage. "I have something to tell you about myself. Kind of why I reacted the way I did when you hugged me. It didn't hurt me. I liked it…but…oh, this is hard. I don't want you to think badly of me."

Grey almost jumped in when he remembered what Mrs. Jones had said to him…listen." So, he just kept silent and gazed into those eyes.

Anastasia stood up and paced. She was so scared. She'd never unburdened herself to anyone in her life before Mrs. Jones and now she feared that she'd lose Mr. G…Christian's respect when he learned the truth of her.

CHAPTER 44

"You aren't the first man to put your arms around me like that. When my daddy got good and tight, he'd pick me up and squeeze me. Call me his little princess and kiss me. I didn't like it 'cause he smelled of beer and cigarettes and not takin' baths much. I'd struggle and fight him and he'd get mad and insulted. Then he'd throw me on the floor and kick me. I'd run out the back door and hide in the woods 'til he gave up. When it'd get real dark and I knew he'd passed out, I'd sneak back in the house."

It was taking every bit of self-restraint that Grey possessed to stay still in his chair. He wanted to tell Anastasia how brave she was and how much he admired her but no…he listened. It was way too late anyhow for him to fix anything…and that was hard.

"That isn't the worst part, tho'. Daddy thought that I was pretty and momma didn't like that. After all the drugs she put inside herself, she wasn't pretty anymore and she liked to take it out on me. The little bit of time that she was sober enough, she used to punish me. I got some bad beatings for nothing.

"I hated them both, Christian. I still hate them. I know that a lot of kids have it worse than I did but I'm still full of self-pity and anger. I got a lot of ugly inside me."

He couldn't take it anymore. He jumped to his feet but she put her hand out to stop him from approaching.

"There's more. There's more. In Portland and once in Seattle, men got me before I saw them coming. I'm damaged, Christian. I know it wasn't my fault. I do know that and I don't blame myself but somehow…well…I still feel responsible. I've got coulda, shoulda and woulda in my head all the time. I don't want to feel that way. I don't want to be untouchable ...but I can't help it. I don't know if I'll ever feel safe.

"I do see the way you look at me. You're so handsome and you've been so kind and caring with me. I want to repay you but…"

Grey couldn't hold back anymore. "No, Anastasia. You don't have to repay me in any way at all. You've given me so much just being here. Just let me take care of you, protect you. I'll never ask anything more of you.

"You think I'm handsome?"

Anastasia giggled. "Oh, you know you are," she scolded.

"It never meant anything until you said it," he blushed.

CHAPTER 45

While Anastasia and Christian sat in the kitchen eating dinner and finding it easier to talk together, Taylor and his right-hand man were training their eyes on the monitors in the security office. What they were watching was disturbing…a tall man dressed in black, wearing a fedora to shield his face from cameras. Nonetheless, they knew that the man casing Escala was Jack Hyde. The security who'd been watching his new place had called to say that he was on the move, wearing black and a hat.

"What can he hope to do here, Taylor?" Ryan asked. "There's no way in. Maybe he's hoping Grey will leave? Still, he must know that we have eyes on him…electronic and human."

"I'm sure he wants us to see him. Psychological intimidation. We can't touch him for just walking around on the sidewalk. He knows that and he knows that there is no way in here so he's hoping to get on our nerves. Normally, he'd have no effect on Grey. However, with Ms. Steele under his wing, Grey is vulnerable. His thinking is compromised. So, we don't tell him."

As he turned to go, there stood Grey…sleeves rolled up, hands in pockets and leaning against the door frame. He looked nonchalant. That wasn't how he felt. Hyde had come for Anastasia and Christian Grey was once again the black-hearted bastard who set out to crush anyone who got in his way…and his way was Anastasia.

"Tell the men to take him down. We'll think of a reason later."

"Sir. I can't order an assassination. In three weeks, Hyde goes to trial. He'll be convicted and spend a good chunk of his life in prison. Be patient and wait for the law to work."

"The law doesn't work for assholes like Hyde. His money, his lawyers and probably his underhanded tricks will protect him. He'll threaten jurors. He'll bribe guards. His father probably owns the judge.

"And he still has three weeks to get to Anastasia. I want him taken out."

His face was gray and grim. Taylor knew that there was no reasoning with this man. This was the man he'd worked for long before depression took him over…long before Anastasia. The depression, Taylor had had a hard enough time managing. He didn't know what to do about Anastasia. She was Grey's H-bomb. She'd blown a crater in him and there was no climbing out.

Grey gave Taylor one more cold appraisal and then turned to go. Clearly, he did not expect his command to be ignored. And clearly, Taylor could not order his men to commit murder.

CHAPTER 46

Hyde stood down on the street level, looking up at the 20th floor high in the sky. He could see lights. It was early and everyone would be awake. They'd know he was down below and they'd be trying to ignore the threat. He chuckled to himself as he considered their discomfort.

He could feel eyes on him…all around. Well, let them look. It was all they could do. Unfortunately, it was also all he could do right now. His genius brain had not yet come up with a way to get to Anastasia and all he could think about was finishing her off the way he started. His dreams were filled with visions of her lying on the ground as he smashed his boot into her brains. But…when he awoke…he was still in his room and she was now living in luxury.

He could return to his own luxury apartment, he knew, but somehow, he felt more at home in his hovel. It seemed more like him…dark, dank, the walls closing in. The lawlessness of the neighborhood had its appeal as well. People here feared him. They hadn't at first but a few failed and near-deadly muggings and he was given wide berth as he walked down the street.

He laughed as he strolled down dark alleys in a dangerous area. He was the Master of Mayhem here. He could do anything he wanted…no one would cross him, except those damn security men who followed him everywhere. He made them earn their wage, tho'.

He'd run around breaking windows, whacking people with pipes and boards, attacking prostitutes and beating up their pimps, jumping counters and stealing money from registers, starting bar fights…anything appealing to his crazed brain. The security couldn't keep up.

He was testing them…seeing how easily he could out-think them so that when he had his plan, he would know how to control their interference.

Creating chaos that would distract them from protecting his primary target… Only problem was that his primary target was under the superior protection of his nemesis, Christian Grey. And getting Ms. Steele alone and where he wanted her…that was going to be a very big problem.

Hyde, however, aided by his massive, evil ego, was certain that ultimately his very big problem would not be one at all.

CHAPTER 48

"WHAT!"

"I'm going to marry her. It's necessary. As my wife, she'll be protected, legally. I can take care of her properly. It won't be a conventional marriage but I'm happy with Anastasia."

"What has she done to you?" Grace was shocked and livid. Some little homeless tramp had come in off the streets and was taking advantage of her son. Grey had never seen his mother's face so red.

"You'll like her, mom. She makes me happy. You know that I've never been that before. And she's in trouble. This guy Hyde is stalking her. Poor thing just wanted to go out and walk in the park and I had to send her with a phalanx of security."

"Son," Carrick cautioned, "you can take care of Anastasia without marrying her, can't you?"

"Not as well, dad. I want her to feel safe, to feel that she belongs. Right now, she talks about how well she's healing and will soon be able to return to her former life. I want to be her life. She's had a rotten time of it. She deserves better."

Elliot and Mia had heard their mother's raised voice…a rare occurrence, indeed. They came into the study without knocking to ask what was going on. Predictably, they were equally horrified. They demanded to meet Anastasia asap. Mia announced that she was going to "take her down".

Grey laughed. "Mia, Anastasia is tough. She'd take you down."

"Well, if she's so tough, Chris," Elliot smirked, "why does she need a billionaire to leach off of, eh? 'Cause this sure looks like that to me."

Grey held his temper. "Anastasia isn't like that. She doesn't ask for anything. One of the reasons I want to marry her is because she thinks that she's in the way and bringing trouble to my door. If she's my wife, she'll relax. She'll have finally found a home."

"And what do you get out of this arrangement?" Mia snarled. "Sex?"

Grey lost his temper. Jumping to his feet, he glared down at his little sister.

"Anastasia has wounds, Mia. Those may never heal and I won't force the issue. What I get out of this is her smile, her eyes…the way she makes me feel. She gives so much to me."

He calmed a bit and sat back down. "Last night we played scrabble," he said, grinning. "Scrabble…me. And she beat me," he laughed.

"Have you asked her as yet?" Carrick asked, smiling at his boy.

"Tonight. I'm afraid that she'll say no. I'll just keep asking. I've never lost a deal I've wanted."

CHAPTER 49

Well, there's a first time for everything.

"No." There it was…the word he'd dreaded. Never mind, moving forward.

"No." Huh…he thought that he'd made a couple of good arguments.

"No." Well, now she was just being unsensible…insensible?

"No." Walking away? Discussion over? It had never begun on her end.

Grey followed Anastasia down the hall to her bedroom. She didn't lock him out, at least. Picking up her book…she was working her way through the Bronte's…she settled in her chair by the window and ignored him as he paced back and forth, presenting new "bullet" points, as he called them.

"Anastasia? Are you listening?" His frustration was growing. "We have to talk about this."

"No."

"You don't get to just refuse. You owe me an explanation!"

The word…owe…piqued her interest. All that she already owed to this man weighed heavily on her. Hospital bills, housing, food…even clothes.

"You're right, Christian," she sighed. "I do owe you…so much. This bothers me. I've never owed anyone anything. Yet, now, my debt to you is like a mountain. I don't know how I'll ever be able to pay up.

"Living here has been a dream. For the first time in my life, I feel safe. You take care of me. Tay and Mrs. Jones take care of me. Before you, I'd never been cared for." She covered her face with her hands in dismay.

"Giving all this up is going to be so very hard, Christian, but I have to. I don't belong here. I've been using you…for too long. I'm just a poor girl…of no worth to anyone and I need to get back to taking care of myself."

Christian knelt before her and pulled her hands from her eyes. "You are worth everything to me, Anastasia. If you go, you take my world with you. I lose my happiness. I won't recover from that loss. Don't you want to see me happy?"

"Yes, I do want you, of all people, to be happy, Christian. I just don't see how I can give you that. Look at me. I'm not pretty, even. I don't know how you can stand to look at my awful teeth, for one thing. People will mock you for having me as a wife. Your family will be disgusted with your choice. You're a genius and I'm barely educated. You're the best-looking man I've ever seen and the smartest and the kindest. I'm homely and dumb.

"The best thing I can do for you is to leave…and soon. I have to make my way and do better." Anastasia held her head up and straightened her shoulders…firm in her convictions.

Christian was scared and flailing. He'd said all he could think of to say…so he did the only thing he could think to do. He pulled Anastasia into his arms and, holding her head with one hand, he kissed her. He didn't have a lot of practice at real kissing. He'd never kissed a woman with affection…but he did his best to convey his feelings to Anastasia.

CHAPTER 50

Anastasia had only been kissed on her lips by her father…smelly, hard kisses that she knew weren't right. Her first impulse was to slam her knee into Christian's groin but she hesitated and, during that moment of hesitation, she felt his arms and hand cradling her…like something so precious. His lips were warm and soft and giving. She didn't know how to kiss back but she tried. He was pressing his mouth against hers so she copied that. He moved his lips to explore hers so she moved her lips.

It wasn't scary. Like always with Christian, she felt safe. He wouldn't hurt her…never. He eased back and drew in a ragged breath…leaning his forehead against hers…not wanting to be far from her face.

"Anastasia," he murmured, finally holding her close to his heart, his face buried in her shoulder. She'd kissed him back!...hadn't she? He was sure that she was relaxed in his arms…wasn't she?

"Should I let you go now?" he asked…thinking that now would be a good time for her to say no.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around him. "Stay", she whispered.

He smiled to himself. "No," he said, "you stay."

"Christian, this is such a bad idea. It's going to go all kinds of wrong. You'll regret it before long and wonder what you could have been thinking. You must promise me that when that time comes, you won't hesitate to tell me to go."

"It won't."

"Promise me."

"I promise to love and cherish you all the days of my life. Please marry me?"

"I'm selfish and useless. I've always tried to be a good girl and now I'm going to do something very bad. All right, if it's what you want, I'll marry you." Then she began to cry and whimper about all the ways that he'd regret having her for a wife. His family, his social circle, his friends, his employees, his business rivals…they would all scorn him for this ridiculous choice.

Christian just held her tighter.

CHAPTER 51

The next day, with Taylor and Mrs. Jones as witnesses, a dubious Anastasia and a blissfully happy Christian were joined in marriage by a judge in his chambers. His honor was confused but didn't show it. He'd known the Greys for many years. They were the most prominent family in Seattle and their son, the most prominent of all the Greys, had chosen this unremarkable girl to wed. He himself had a stunning daughter who'd gone to Vassar. He'd introduced her to Grey at different charity events over the years but Grey had shown no interest. Grey was coveted by many families and many beautiful, refined daughters but all to no avail.

And, now, he'd floated into chambers holding the hand of a thin, pale girl with bad teeth and dull skin. The judge was floored by the joy on Grey's countenance while the girl looked pained. Had he gotten her pregnant? What was the attraction here? His honor certainly couldn't see it.

Mrs. Jones set a wicker basket on the table and withdrew a chilled bottle of champagne and several glasses. There were salutations all round…congratulations and good wishes for the newlyweds. Half a glass later, Anastasia's nerves had her running for the lavatory.

"Well," the judge said, in an attempt to lighten the mood, "are you off to honeymoon anywhere special?"

"Not right away," Grey replied. "I have to arrange for my absence at GEH and I want to introduce Anastasia to my family."

The judge was surprised. "Your family doesn't know about your marriage?"

"I told them I was going to ask my bride for her hand but, no, they don't know about today. It was all very spur of the moment and my mother would never allow that. She would have insisted on a big splashy affair and neither of us wanted that. Anastasia can be quite shy."

Anastasia returned…even paler than before. "Ah, the beautiful bride has returned," the judge said kindly.

Anastasia stared at him.

CHAPTER 52

Christian reached out his hand, hoping that his wife would take it. He quietly breathed a sigh of relief when she reached for his. As the group left the courthouse, reporters had gathered in a small clump at the bottom of the steps. They yelled out questions and their cameras clicked away. It wasn't readily apparent as to whether Anastasia understood what all this meant…that her picture would be flashed around the world…but she was calm.

She didn't like the attention but she was with Christian so she felt safe. If this display was not disturbing him, then it wouldn't bother her either. He understood this and it made him feel wonderful.

They said nothing until they got into the car, hidden behind tinted windows. "Did you know?" Anastasia began, "that the cars that royals ride in don't have tinted windows?"

"They don't?"

"No. The royals have to be seen by the people." She paused. "I'd hate to be royal. Christian, will you be embarrassed when there are pictures of me in the papers?"

"Embarrassed? I'm thrilled! I'm thinking of rolling down the windows," he teased.

Anastasia laughed. She was still holding his hand…a bit more tightly. She was nervous, a little afraid. What had she done? she asked herself. A few weeks earlier she was homeless with nowhere to go, no one to turn to for help and now, she was a married woman, living in a penthouse with servants. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to act?

Christian had told her that he expected nothing from her and she knew that he meant sexually…but. Yeah, a big but. She knew men…first her father and his drunken buddies, then the men in the bar and all the men on the streets. They were all around her, all her life, and none of them meant her well. Along with seeking shelter and food, she and the other women she met had to learn how to avoid the men, avoid being assaulted.

Anastasia had lost count of the times that she'd intervened to protect another girl from being raped. The men on the streets seemed to take it as their due to use the women. Christian wasn't like any of those men but he was still a man. They had needs. She knew that her new husband hadn't been with a woman since Jack Hyde had put her in a hospital. She had to ask.

"Christian," she spoke quietly to avoid being heard by Tay and Mrs. Jones. "Christian, how will you do without?"

He hadn't taken his eyes off her all morning and now he looked deep into Anastasia's eyes. Yes, he had to admit to her and to himself. He wanted her badly. He needed her like he'd never needed a woman. He craved her touch.

Anastasia flinched and withdrew her hand. He took it back and kissed it.

"Mostly, I want your company. I want you in my life. I want to think about you during my day and that I'll get to have dinner with you. I feel like my life has meaning now. I have someone to live for. You are mine, Anastasia. This is my greatest desire…even if we never consummate this marriage.

"I'll always be happy just to know that you are mine. I love you, Anastasia."

CHAPTER 53

A lovely blush shone from her face as she looked into her husband's eyes. He'd never said that. Everything else but never that. He loved her. And she could see it now. It had been there all along.

"I…I" her words stumbled out.

"You don't have to say it back, Anastasia. Just promise to never leave me. It's a big ask, I know. Don't leave me."

This answer she knew. It was easy. She could never leave him. He was her Christian.

"I'll never leave you, my husband…like the judge said. Rich or poor, sick or healthy, good times or bad. I'll always be by your side. And if, for some reason, I can't be…I'll fight like hell to get back to you. I am yours…as long as you wish it."

The glow from Christian's face could have lit up Manhattan. Quickly and without thinking, he unclipped her safety belt and pulled her into his lap, holding her tightly. She fought the urge to scream. She breathed through the fear…repeating to herself inwardly that she was safe. It was Christian.

Up front, Taylor was breathing through his own fear. He slowed down the car by 10 miles per hour and he watched the traffic with eagle eyes. Usually, he would have barked out orders that his passengers MUST BE BUCKLED IN but this was an unusual occasion and Mrs. Jones was patting his arm. When he next got Grey alone, he would have a talk with him. He was behaving lately in a way that Taylor didn't recognize. Taylor didn't like his security routine to be changed and since Anastasia arrived, there had been so many changes.

Thank god for Mrs. Jones and her soothing presence. They were also eating a lot better.

No more takeout. Even when she was off for the day, there were delicious dishes to be heated in the microwave. And, lord, her desserts! He and the rest of the team arrived daily in the security offices to find plates of warm cookies.

He would also have to have a talk with the team about increasing their exercise routines.

He looked in the rear-view mirror to see Anastasia quietly resting in Grey's arms. She looked peaceful. This made Taylor smile. God knows, the woman deserved some rest. Every time he glimpsed her scars, his fury at Hyde and the world he came from blew up inside him. She was just a sweet, little person and her life had been one of accumulating wounds. It wasn't fair.

CHAPTER 54

"Welcome home, wife," Christian had grinned as he twirled her around the great room.

"Stop, Christian. I'm feeling a little sick."

He immediately set her down on the couch. Then he ran to the kitchen for a glass of cold water and then dashed back. This was not the Christian Grey of old. This was not the distant, cold-eyed, steely-jawed titan of industry whose sole focus was GEH.

This was Christian, doting husband, madly-in-love-with-his-wife Grey. However, the Anastasia of old, sipping her glass of water and trying to see through the fog in her brain, remained. What the hell had she agreed to do?

Shortly after Grey had moved her into his home…had she agreed to that?...she had begun delving into his life. Google was her new best friend. Ryan had shown her how to rev up the laptop and use the search engine and she hadn't wasted any time looking into the life of Grey. What she found was mind boggling.

This guy who gazed at her with such intensity was a billionaire…no, make that multi-billionaire in the top 25 of the 2600 multi-billionaires in the world. He was only 28 years-old, the adopted son of the most important family on the west coast. He had started his business at the age of 17 with a small loan from his father, founder of the famed Grey Law Firm. His business had something to do with acquisitions, telecommunications and technologies in general. None of it made any sense to Anastasia.

His devastating good looks adorned magazine covers and hundreds of bedroom walls but he'd never been seen with a woman. Women were quoted as being unconcerned with his sexual orientation…they'd take him any way they could get him. Pundits suspected that he was either asexual or gay.

He was renowned for his philanthropy as were his parents. He had a brother with an up-and-coming building company and a younger sister…known for her exotic beauty. The whole lot were fabulously attractive and wealthy and admired by all.

As Anastasia sat on the couch, downing her water with her husband watching her with concern and love, all she could think was…what have I gotten myself into?

CHAPTER 55

"Christian, do you mind if I take a nap?" Anastasia needed desperately to be alone…to be away from all this devotion for a while.

Grey leaned over and kissed her cheek…all he dared to do. She smiled as best she could.

"I have work to do. Get some rest. I know it's been a big day." Grey watched as his bride walked away…to her own bedroom. He sighed. He'd make it work. Then he summoned Taylor to his study.

"I'm sure that I don't have to tell you that the team has to be focused on protecting my wife."

"No, sir. We're having a meeting later to discuss all aspects of her care. We'll be ready for anything. There will undoubtedly be articles in tonight's papers and tomorrow, after reporters have had the chance to check public records, the news will explode. At some point, we'll have to sit down with Mrs. Grey to explain with what she'll be dealing from now on. She seems like a strong woman, Mr. Grey. I'm sure that she'll be able to handle it."

Grey didn't feel so sure but he trusted Taylor to ensure his wife's safety. After their meeting, he called his father.

"Hi, dad. I need to come by. Are you free tonight? Great, see you later."

Grey looked in on Anastasia and found her sleeping soundly. He so wanted to lie down with her, to gather her into his arms, to whisper again that he loved her. He knew, however, that such an overture would not be welcome. He had taken a risk in the car and it had paid off but twice in one day would be pushing it.

Instead, he pulled over a chair and sat down…just to look at her. He thought back to that night when he nearly killed her while trying to kill himself. He remembered the moment when she opened her eyes…just for a bit…and her eyes changed his life. He must have looked into the eyes of a thousand women in his life…so many beautiful eyes, except they weren't…not to him. He'd never been moved by any of them. Why Anastasia's eyes?

Maybe because it wasn't just that he was looking into stunning eyes…he was looking into her soul. Yeah, it sounded corny but…the light in those eyes filled him with feelings he hadn't known existed.

CHAPTER 56

While Anastasia slept, Grey was sitting in his father's study at Grey Manor. Carrick was sitting next to him, sympathetically rubbing his son's back as Christian tried to defend a wedding…sans family members…with a woman they'd not yet met.

It was going rather badly.

"What the hell, Chris?" Elliot whined. "I don't even get to picture the wedding because I've never met the bride…or Mrs. Jones."

"I always dreamed of planning a wedding and picking out the perfect dress and I would be maid of honor and look fantastic in all the pictures and be on the covers of all the magazines and newspapers and we'd have this incredible reception with an orchestra and…"

"Mia!" Grace shushed her daughter. "You're rambling, dear. Oh, Christian…how could you disappoint us so. I know that I raised you better than this. It's bad enough that you picked some girl up off the road. How many lovely, refined girls have I introduced to you? Why would you ignore them and choose one of the druggies who live on the street? You know that she just married you because you're rich and she doesn't want to work. None of those people do."

Carrick placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder to keep him from jumping to his feet.

"Gracie, tone it down, dear," Carrick warned. "This is our son's wife you're disparaging."

Elliot crossed his arms over his muscular chest and narrowed his eyes at his brother. "So. When do we get to meet this mystery woman? Hell, when do we get to know anything much about her except that you found her out on the sidewalk in front of your building?"

"Anastasia isn't ready to meet anyone yet," Christian answered. "I told you. She's shy. She's self-conscious about her looks and her background…her poor education. She's well aware of what she lacks in the eyes of a family like mine. So, we're going to take it slow…as slow as she wants. It's all about when Anastasia is ready."

"When she's ready…not when we're ready," Grace huffed. "She sounds selfish. She has a lot of nerve for a girl who's come from nothing and has nothing to offer. Does she realize how lucky she is to have snagged a catch like you and a family like the Greys?"

CHAPTER 57

That happened to be just what Anastasia was contemplating as she watched the city beginning to light up as the day turned to dusk. This was hers now…this view…penthouse…this new family that she didn't have the nerve to meet. That is what her new husband had told her as he carried her across the threshold.

"Welcome home, wife," Christian had grinned as he twirled her around the great room.

"This is all yours now…every inch of penthouse, every object within. Like in our vows, all that I have is yours." This thought delighted him. It aroused other feelings in Anastasia.

And now her husband was surprising his family with the news…news they were sure to be appalled to hear. An urchin off the streets…oh, yes, that's what every mother wants for her son. Anastasia imagined Grace going white as she learned that her son had married…at the courthouse. The Greys were the kind of family that held weddings in cathedrals or the Ritz. They were also the kind of family who were invited to their own children's nuptials.

Gosh, they must loathe her. She'd bewitched their Christian…or drugged him…threatened him? They must be going crazy trying to understand what had happened. And she certainly understood their consternation.

Anastasia was perplexed as well…although "perplexed" seemed too mild a word to describe her confusion.

No one had ever loved her. No one had ever expressed affection for her. So, when Christian said this to her, she didn't believe him. What was he talking about? He couldn't love her. She'd just stared at him. She mustn't have heard him correctly. What was there to love?

Anastasia had learned her lesson well. She was homely and lacking in personality. She was not interesting or smart and every hard knock she'd ever been dealt, she deserved. Yet here was this beautiful, brilliant and accomplished man telling her that he. loved. her. It wasn't possible.

He'd explained that he wanted to marry her to ensure that she would never leave him. Well, hell, marriage vows or not, she could walk out any time she wished. But he believed her…trusted her. She heard herself saying the words he needed to hear…"I'll never leave you". He seemed to want those words so so much and he'd done so much for her that she had to give him that. It was so little…just a promise.

Anastasia had never made a promise…had never been asked for one. And now she'd spoken vows and she was married and she hadn't a clue what to do next.

CHAPTER 57

"Dad, I need to make arrangements for Anastasia. A will, for starters." Christian actually seemed happy…to be making a will. Carrick was as baffled as the rest of the family but he couldn't deny that a woman he'd never met was somehow making his gloomy son beam like the sun. She must be quite wonderful.

The rest of the family were not so pleased for Christian. They sat in the living room, whispering among themselves…their feelings a mixture of anger and despair. They were helpless. There was nothing they could do. If they didn't accept this marriage, they would surely lose Christian. It was clear where his allegiance now lay.

"Mom, what do you imagine she's like?" Mia spoke for all of them.

As they sat mired in their gloom, Margaret, the housekeeper, came into the room. She'd been out to the market and had returned with the late afternoon edition of The Nooz. Without a word, she handed the rag to Mrs. Grey.

Grace looked at the first page, above the fold, and gasped…her hand over her mouth. Elliot leaned over and took the paper from her hand. Together he and his sister examined the photo of their brother and his bride walking down the courthouse steps after their wedding. What they were looking at did not cheer them.

Their impossibly handsome brother had his arm around an emaciated-looking girl…a girl with a wan complexion, lank and dull hair, a plain and expressionless face who walked with her arms crossed in front of her. My god, she wasn't even pretty.

"This is the girl who was beaten? Maybe," Grace surmised, "he feels responsible but he could have just given her some money. He didn't have to marry her!"

The Nooz didn't know what to make of Anastasia. The tabloid wouldn't know until morning that the couple had married. Thus, it proposed that the philanthropic Mr. Grey was taking in a waif. She looked quite young…maybe he was now her legal guardian?

CHAPTER 58

The waif had just finished a good cry…something exceedingly rare for her. Stoicism was her usual approach to life but that was when she was alone. She now had a nice man who said that he loved her, wanted nothing from her and thought that she was wonderful. What was wonderful about her?

It wasn't that she suffered from low self-esteem. She had never, in fact, considered how she felt about herself. She'd never had time to think much about it. Her entire life had been about survival. The most she'd ever dreamt of attaining was personal safety…and she'd failed to succeed at that. Through great effort, she'd managed to stay alive…barely.

She'd never felt self-pity. Again, no time or energy. Everything she had inside of her had to be expended to stay on her feet, to avoid injury and illness as much as possible.

Yet, now, she felt exposed and vulnerable in a way that she never had before. She didn't understand it. It would take some time and thinking for her to realize that for the first time in her life, she had something to lose.

Christian was really smart. Maybe he could explain why she felt this new kind of fear. He'd been gone, over to his folk's house, for quite a while. He wanted to tell them about marrying her. Maybe they were talking him out of it. His father was a lawyer and probably knew how to unmarry them. Would Christian's face be unhappy or angry when he returned? She certainly expected that he would come to his senses soon. She'd already packed a duffel bag. He had a lot of those. Maybe he wouldn't mind if she borrowed one.

Anastasia wandered again around the apartment, still marveling at its size. She was hungry but it wasn't dinner time yet. If Christian ate dinner with his family, she might have to go to bed hungry. Nothing new.

Of all the rooms, she loved the library. Reading was the one thing that she was kind of good at. She'd found a dictionary that was like the one at her grade school and she kept it with her to help with some of the harder words. Reading made her feel smarter. Maybe she could find the public library in Seattle after she left.

She heard a ping. The elevator. She felt pain in her chest. He was back and was going to ask her to go. That was okay. She certainly didn't belong here.

CHAPTER 59

"Anastasia! Where are you, honey?"

He was in a hell of a good mood. All the paperwork was completed and his father would file it in the morning. His family wanted to meet his wife as soon as possible. He hoped that he could convince her. They could discuss her fears about it and that would help. He knew that they would love her.

Love had certainly made him a big dope.

Anastasia came down the hallway, feeling confused. Christian sounded happy. As he came into view, she saw his face lit up, his gorgeous gray eyes shining. Oh. Maybe his father had been able to figure out a way for them to divorce.

Christian walked quickly to her and swept her up in his arms. She was so startled that she forgot to be afraid. He held her firmly for several minutes. To her surprise, it felt good…close and safe.

He leaned back and looked into her eyes. As always, her bright blues brought out a depth of feeling that made his heart soar. Without hesitation, he pressed his lips to hers. He wanted to explore her mouth with his tongue but knew that that would be too much, too soon. She didn't withdraw so neither did he. Her lips were plump and soft and the connection was more than he'd ever dreamt he'd know.

Even as she drew back, he kept his arms around her. She was so thin. He felt a pang of worry. He wasn't blind. He knew that she was half-starved still. He could see that she wasn't in good health. Well, he'd take care of her until all the beauty inside of her shone on the outside as well. Then the world would see what he could.

"You're happy, Christian?"

"Yes. So much."

"Then your father was able to arrange for a divorce?"

"What! Oh, baby. No divorce. No annulment. Remember, you promised to never leave me?"

"Until you want me to go. I thought your family would want that and you'd agree."

"Well, they were certainly shocked but dad is happy for me. He and I had to write up a will and make some other arrangements for your future."

"A will?" Anastasia asked. There were so many things of which she'd only a vague notion.

"Yes. I'll tell you all about it over dinner. Are you hungry?"

As if to answer him, Anastasia's tummy rumbled. Christian swept her up in his arms and carried her into the kitchen, setting her down on a stool. "Why didn't you eat?"

Anastasia simply shrugged. She hadn't known that she could. Christian had just as much to learn about his wife as she did about him.

CHAPTER 60

"Sir? I think that you had better see this." Taylor set a stack of newspapers down on Grey's desk. The front page of every one of them showcased a photo of the newlyweds descending the courthouse steps and every one of them had the same banner headline.

Christian Grey Married!

"Well, not a bit of imagination from any of them," Grey smirked.

"True. I think the editors are all in shock. Check out the first sentence in the articles. No imagination there either."

Enigmatic multi-billionaire breaks hearts the world over with bombshell news.

Each article went on to ask who is Anastasia Steele…where did she come from…how long has this relationship been going on…and the predictable, how many months pregnant is she?

Within minutes, all the phone lines were lit up. Grey leaned back in his chair and let Taylor answer. Each person was asked to hold.

"Your mother, horrified, line one. Mrs. Lincoln, enraged, line two. Ros Bailey, stunned, line three. Charlie, the lobby guard, line four."

"Hi, Charlie. How are you today?" Grey had a smile in his voice.

"Congratulations, Mr. Grey. Now, sir, what would you like me to do, if anything, with this horde of paparazzi down here trampling the homeless?"

"Tell them that there will be no comment from the Greys and no photo opportunities either. If they're not gone in 30 minutes, call the SPD."

"Hi, Ros. Ask Andrea to reschedule any necessary appointments. Yes, ma'am. I am, indeed, a married man. Surprised myself…for several weeks now. Beef up security out front. Tell them to keep an eye out for Jack Hyde. Have security see you to your car every night."

"Good morning, mom. Yes, that's still Anastasia. Same girl from last evening's pictures. Tell your social circle anything you want, mom. I know you care what they think but I don't. No, we're just going to hunker down at Escala. My wife has a lot of healing to do and I just want to enjoy my new status as a happily married man.

"Yes, mom. Of course, I care about your feelings. I love you but I also love Anastasia and she has to be my priority. I'm all she has. When she's ready and not until. Goodbye, mom."

"What can I do for you, Elena? Yes, it's true. I'd rather not get into all the details with you. Elena, I've been your client all these years…that's all. That part of my life is over now. I'm not going to listen to you yell at me about my life choices. Don't forget that you signed an NDA."

Lines lit up as soon as Grey shut them down. Probably his brother and sister. Maybe a particularly clever reporter who'd finagled a number from someone who shouldn't have been sharing but Grey was done with explaining himself. He wanted to see his wife.

CHAPTER 61

Taylor had been showing Anastasia how to use the things called remotes to watch the television. The only TV she'd seen before moving into Escala was the one in the bar in Portland and it was all sports. She wasn't interested in those. She was grateful for the distraction they provided to the men who would otherwise be pinching her bottom every time she walked by. Her parents had something with a screen in a big wood box in a corner of the living room but Anastasia had never understood its use except as a place to set junk down. Her father, arriving home from the tavern, would rant about the somabitch who'd lost the big game but she'd never paid much attention.

She'd never heard Christian talking about games. He did like to sit with her in the "media room" to watch black and white movies sometimes but otherwise, he wasn't interested in the enormous screen hanging on the wall.

He'd been in his study all morning and she was bored so she decided to practice using the box with all the buttons. She was having trouble finding the movies. Every button she pushed brought up people just talking.

As Christian made his way down the hallway, he heard Anastasia squeal in distress. She came running out of the media room, eyes wide.

"My face is on the wall! On the…on the," she struggled to be articulate. "TV! On the TV!"

Damn, why hadn't he thought of this? He took the remote from her hand and settled her on the couch.

"Anastasia, try to be calm. You have to keep your blood pressure down."

"The people on the TV…why are they talking about me? My face is so big!"

"Your face isn't so big, sweetie. The TV is 120 inches."

"How do those strange people know me? I don't know them, Christian. Look, your face is on there, too. I don't want my face up there. I don't like my face. They're saying things about me and you. Who told them that I live here?"

"Haven't you ever seen a news show? On the television?"

Her face was so flushed. It scared him.

"Sports news. That's on the TV. Sports news…not news about my face."

Ever so slowly Grey was learning that Anastasia knew very little of the world. How could he know? He understood nothing of life in a cabin in the woods with an outhouse, no TV or radio, no magazines or newspapers with parents interested in only their addictions, a tiny religious school with outdated textbooks, no friends who might have shown her something of the world…

Daily he explained new things to Anastasia. Daily he learned new things about her.

One day she wouldn't come out of her room and wouldn't say why. So, Mrs. Jones was sent in to investigate.

CHAPTER 62

"I have to go out for some things, Mr. Grey. While I'm gone, call your mother. She needs to come over or to recommend a doctor, female, for Ms. Steele."

Grey stood with his mouth agape as Mrs. Jones disappeared behind the elevator doors.

His mother? How could this go well?

"Good morning, mom."

"Well, you're talking to your mother again. How nice," her voice rich with sarcasm.

"Something is wrong with Anastasia. Mrs. Jones told me to have you come over or recommend a female doctor." He was too worried to be concerned with his pride.

"What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know. She won't come out of her room. Please come, mom, or at least give me a name."

"Hardly. This is my chance to meet my daughter-in-law. I'll be there in 20 minutes."

As she hung up on Christian, he suffered severe doubts about the wisdom of having her meet Anastasia. This could all blow up in an ugly confrontation between him and Grace if she hurt his wife. He would not allow Anastasia to be hurt anymore. There was no question in his mind as to who was more important. Both women had saved his life but his heart unreservedly belonged to Anastasia.

Mrs. Jones returned, riding up in the elevator car with Mrs. Grey. They had been talking and Mrs. Grey looked quite serious. She nodded to her son and hurried into Anastasia's room with Mrs. Jones.

Grey sat in the great room, staring into the fire, with his knees bouncing up and down. Taylor stood nearby, observing. Mrs. Jones had informed him of the issue and now he wondered if he ought to be talking with his boss. This issue was not in his wheelhouse and he did not want to get involved but….

"Sir?"

"Not now, Taylor. I can't concentrate."

"Sir, Ms. Steele is going to be fine. Her problem is troubling but not life-threatening."

Grey looked up at him. "Spill," he ordered. Just as Taylor was sorry that he'd tried to soothe Grey, Grace came into the room and asked Taylor for privacy. Yes, Ma'am!

Grace's demeanor was not what Christian expected. She was gentle and sad.

"Christian, do you remember when Mia had her first period?" Oh, he remembered all right. She ran around bragging about becoming a woman. She all but waved her tampons in his and Elliot's faces. Of course, the initial thrill wore off fast with the onset of cramps and headaches and the inconvenience of it all. As soon as the Depo injection came out, Mia made a celebratory dinner for the family…spending the entire meal being jubilant about fewer, if any, periods.

Mia was a great cook but the table talk made eating rather difficult.

CHAPTER 63

"That's all the fuss? Anastasia is 20. Why would she be upset about having a period? Oh, it's because I didn't think to provide tampons. But wait. It's been a few months. What has she been doing all this time?"

"Christian, stop. It's more complicated than that, I'm afraid. Yes, your wife woke up to discover blood and she panicked. And because the blood was coming from a private place, she was reluctant to tell anyone. She also thought that she was dying. Her blood pressure and pulse rate are coming down as she is calming.

"This was a terrifying time for her. And…well…I was touched by her concern for you."

"Me?"

"She was very scared for you, scared that you would be hurt if she died. She said that she'd promised to never leave you…that this promise was what you wanted more than anything. Christian, I'm sorry that I doubted your judgement. Anastasia is an innocent, a sweet girl."

"Yes, mom. She is…but I don't understand why she was so upset about having a period, why she didn't know what it was."

"Because, son, this is her first." Grace waited for that to sink in before she continued. "Girls who are severely underweight…who don't have enough body fat…commonly do not have periods. Their bodies simply do not supply the necessary lining in their uteruses. Your wife has been on the edge of starvation all her life."

Christian rose to his feet and put his fist through the glass table in front of the couch. Grace gasped and yelled for Mrs. Jones to bring towels. She pulled her son into the kitchen and ran his trembling hand under the water as she searched for shards of glass to remove from his skin. Then she tightly wrapped towel after towel around his hand.

"You'll need stitches. What were you thinking?" She stopped, realizing that her son was shaking with sobs. Grace wrapped her arms around him, rocking him back and forth. He loved this girl. He loved her so much. Grace felt tears brimming in her own eyes.

After some time, she led him over to the couch. She let his wounds soak in antiseptic until the bleeding eased and then she began stitching him up. He paid no attention…staring into space.

"Christian? Keep this dressing dry. Understand?"

CHAPTER 63

"Christian?"

"I'll kill them. I'll make them all pay," he growled, his eyes turning to black. "Her rotten father who molested her, her so-called mother who beat her…they did nothing for her, didn't even feed her properly. And that town…everyone. They watched it all and let her suffer."

"Christian, right now you have to focus on Anastasia and what she needs right now. She needs you to be close, to reassure her. Revenge…later."

"No, she'll be embarrassed. We're not intimate, mom," he muttered.

"I know that, son. She told me when I was trying to show her how to use the tampon. She feels bad about that…feels that she's cheating you somehow."

"Mom, I've told her that I'll never ask anything of her. I meant that."

"Then I guess that you'll have to tell her again. I don't know much about her but I can tell that she is confused about her own feelings and she's dealing with guilt. She's getting set to hide under the bed and not come out. So you gearing up for war with the people who hurt her is not going to help right now."

Grace kissed her boy on the cheek and took her leave. She felt some relief mixed with worry. Her son hadn't been taken in by a gold-digger who would break his heart. His heart had been captured by a girl perhaps too broken for repair and he could spend his life in a futile effort to fix her.

Mrs. Jones returned from Anastasia's room. She looked more relaxed so perhaps her charge was as well.

"Is Anastasia feeling better?" Christian asked.

"Physically, yes. However, learning from your mother that most girls get their periods when they're much younger than her is making her feel like a stranger in this world once again. She's sad."

"Do you think that I should talk with her about this? I mean, it's a really personal thing and I don't want to make her self-conscious."

"You're her husband. This is one of those better or worse moments that you vowed to be with her during." Mrs. Jones patted his arm and walked back to her kitchen.

CHAPTER 64

Anastasia pulled all the sheets off the bed, cringing at the signs of blood. Mrs. Jones had offered to wash the sheets but Anastasia wanted to throw them away. Of course, had she known the small fortune that Grey paid for the sheets, she would probably have reconsidered. Anastasia was still clueless about the expensive life she was now leading. She had an idea that her husband was wealthy but being distracted by so many other new things, she hadn't considered that absolutely everything in her world was exceptional.

As she was stuffing the sheets in the bathroom bin, she heard a soft knock at the door…the timid knock of someone who hoped that it wouldn't be heard and he could say that he'd tried and then sneak away.

"Come in," Anastasia called out. Actually, she thought it was Mrs. Jones so when she left the en suite to walk into her husband, it wasn't a pleasant surprise. She stopped.

"How are you doing?" he asked. Now, what was she supposed to say to that, she wondered? I've bled all over your sheets? I'm disgusting? Please divorce me?

Instead, she just stared at him. He stared back and blushed. Oh, god, he knows, she thought.

"Honey, come here. Sit down. We need to talk." Christian's voice was gentle. Anastasia just kept repeating to herself that she was safe with this man. She slowly lowered herself onto the bed next to him. He took her hand and kissed it. His hand was so warm and strong.

"Sweetheart, will you look at me? You know how I love your eyes," he smiled.

It was hard but Anastasia raised her brilliant blue eyes to look into Christian's brilliant gray eyes. They made her feel something she didn't understand but it felt good.

"I know that you've spent your whole life alone. I know that no one has ever cared for you. But you didn't let it take you down. You persevered despite everything. Do you have any idea how proud I am to be your husband? To be married to someone so remarkable?"

Remarkable? Anastasia looked at him. Was he teasing her? And why would he be proud to be married to a girl like her?

"I know you don't believe me…yet…but I'll just keep trying to make you understand how wonderful you are. The first moment I was able to look into your eyes, I knew. I knew that you were my destiny, Anastasia.

"I know. I didn't understand it either…then…but the longer I know you, the more I learn about you…the more I know that all the misery that I lived with for all my life was just the path to you. It was a road that I had to travel to find you."

"You were unhappy?" How could that be, she thought? Christian has everything…a family that loves him…a really nice place to live…lots of books…a nice lady who cooks for him and Tay who drives him around in new cars.

"That night that I landed on top of your car? I was speeding and I took my hands off the wheel and closed my eyes."

Anastasia gasped and put her hand over her mouth. "You tried to kill yourself?!"

Christian nodded. He wasn't proud of those terrible minutes. He could have killed Anastasia. That thought wasn't on her mind at the moment, however. She was just gobsmacked that someone so handsome, so rich, could want to die. In that moment, her heart opened a little more to this man.

CHAPTER 65

"I'm sorry that you were so unhappy, Christian. It hurts my heart that you were like that."

"And it hurts my heart knowing all the hell you've been through. I'm angry. I want to find all those people and make them sorry."

"No. To do that, I'd have to have them in my life again…the men who…who hurt me. Even my parents and the kids at school. Not one of them was ever nice to me but I didn't really blame them. I was different…and…I smelled bad a lot of the time because I didn't know that I should take baths. That's silly, uh?"

"No. Your parents should have taught you, helped you. You haven't been looked after, Anastasia, but that's my job now.

"You need to be examined by a doctor. People get exams every year to be sure that they're healthy so we'll get a good woman doctor for you…someone you're comfortable with."

"I liked your mother, Christian. She was cold at first but then she was real nice to me. She said that I could get my teeth fixed and even make them white. Can we do that?"

"Well, my mother is part of your family now so she can't be your doctor but she'll recommend someone, okay? And yes, we'll get a dentist to make your teeth white as you like. I know you don't believe it, Anastasia, but to me you are already beautiful. I see the light inside of you. My mother saw it today, too.

"I pity all those people who weren't able to know the beauty in you. They missed so much."

Anastasia was blushing. Christian put his arm around her and held her close, resting his head on hers. He tried not to think about all the sad things. He didn't want her to think that he only felt pity for her. Still, his heart ached so for a girl who thought that she was bleeding to death and then had to deal with the embarrassment of staining a sheet.

All the pain that she'd been through was his pain as well. He'd no right to it but still, there it was, burning in his heart. Somehow, he was going to make her happy every day…make her feel so safe that absolutely nothing and no one could ever hurt her again. He wanted her to look in the mirror and smile at her reflection…knowing that she was as beautiful as Christian knew her to be. He wanted her to hold her head high and look out at a world that belonged to her.

He would give her everything. What were all his billions worth if they couldn't buy her all that she needed to live a joyous life?

CHAPTER 66

"Get it delayed!" Hyde yelled at his high-priced attorney.

"With only a week until trial, I don't think that that will be possible, Mr. Hyde," Mr. Cable timidly responded. He hated this client and he hated his boss for sticking him with Mr. Hyde. Cable was low man at the firm so he'd no choice when the top partner had given him this assignment. Everyone at the firm knew that it was a losing case and, furthermore, that the client was a dangerous man.

"My father is paying you an exorbitant amount of money to represent me. You'll do as I say! Tell the court that I'm ill. Tell the DA anything you want but I want this case moved back…and I warn you," Hyde shook his fist in Cable's face, "you don't want to cross me."

No, Cable didn't want to cross him. He wanted to quit the firm, move his family to another state and start over. He'd graduated in the top 10% of his class at Yale which is how he got on at one of the top firms in Washington but he could use that status to get a job elsewhere…somewhere he wasn't expected to endanger himself representing maniacs.

"Don't be concerned, Mr. Hyde. I know of the perfect way to get this case delayed by at least a month…possibly more." He smiled at Hyde and then took his leave…hoping that his car still had all its tires after being parked in this neighborhood for the past half hour.

The car probably did…wherever it was now.

CHAPTER 67

The DA tried to appease Carrick Grey…to no avail.

"Of course his attorney quit! The next one will as well! No one wants to lose a case and no one wants to be held accountable for that loss by their deranged client. With that excuse, Jack Hyde will never go to trial."

"I agree and I sympathize with your family's desire to get this man behind bars sooner rather than later. However, I shouldn't have to explain the law to you."

"No, you should try explaining it to my son. You do understand who you're dealing with, don't you? Next to Christian Grey, I'm just a humble country lawyer. How do I keep him from eating you alive, eh? You have an election coming up in two years and my son has a long memory. I certainly hope that your former firm will be happy to take you back!"

Slamming the phone down used to be such a satisfying way to end disagreeable conversations. Carrick resolved to reinstall landlines at his office and home as soon as possible. All he could do now was push an unimpressive little button.

Well, at least, Christian couldn't slam down the phone on him when Carrick gave him the bad news.

"Your father is calling. Shall I tell him that you'll return his call after the meeting?" Andrea had recently learned that only two people could interrupt Grey at work…his wife or someone calling about his wife. Before this, interruptions were not allowed unless the building was on fire.

"We'll take a break," Grey announced to the couple dozen people facing him. They were all important people…or certainly considered themselves to be. They wanted to be insulted at Grey's lack of consideration of their time but knew it was pointless. It was Grey's world.

"Dad, what's up?"

"How are you doing, son? How's your wife? Gracie was impressed. That's certainly some progress, don't you think?" Carrick's voice was high and unnaturally cheerful. Grey's suspicions were aroused. He said nothing.

"Christian?"

"Dad?"

Carrick sighed. Well, might as well face the fury to come. "The trial has been delayed. Just got off with the DA. Nothing to be done about it. Hyde's lawyer quit on him and the law firm. In fact, he quit on Seattle. Until a new attorney can be assigned and be brought up to date on the case, it's been moved back."

The silence on Grey's end hurt Carrick's ears. Then, in a tone that he feared, his son asked, "back to when?".

"At best…a month. In all probability…longer." Carrick cringed as he said the words. He didn't like being hung up on but hearing the line go dead was actually a relief.

CHAPTER 68

Grey's face was like thunder and his knuckles white as he gripped the phone. As he rose to return to the conference where its attendees would pay dearly for his wrath, Andrea called in to say that Mrs. Grey was on the other line.

"Hello." His anger dissipated. His heart lightened. He hadn't forgotten his rage…he just couldn't seem to sustain it.

"Hi, Christian." His wife's sweet voice…always soft. "Did I call at a bad time?"

"Never. How is your day going, Anastasia?"

"I finished that book…oh and Mrs. Jones is teaching me to type on that computer you got me…the one with google. I could send emails to you instead of bothering you with phone calls."

"You don't bother me…ever. I like it when you call. I like to hear your voice. It makes my day better."

"You're so nice to me…but I won't keep you. I just wanted to ask if you and Tay could bring home Chinese food tonight for dinner. Mrs. Jones has a headache so I told her that I'm the wife and her boss so she should go lie down. Was that okay?"

Christian could only grin. His wife delighted him. Yes, he and Tay would bring home Chinese. He would see her at 5:30.

The crowd waiting for him in the conference room jumped to their feet when he charged back into the meeting room. Everyone held their breath.

Grey took his seat at the head of the table and calmly indicated that the previous speaker should continue. No one had any idea that their nerves had been saved by Anastasia. In their lives, spouses were generally of far less importance than their work careers. And no one yet dreamed that Christian Grey, of all people, had recently had a significant change in his priorities.

GEH was of no importance next to that of his spouse.

CHAPTER 69

Anastasia had never asked about Jack Hyde or the trial so Christian didn't bring it up during dinner. They talked about his day, his meetings, his deals. She asked a lot of questions…wanting to understand him and what he did. She would ask why he wanted to buy a company and what would happen to the people who worked there. He didn't have answers to that second inquiry. She would gaze up at him, her blue eyes making him forget what it was she'd said.

"Christian?"

"Oh, yes. Well, we bought the company for this particular piece of technology that we need. We'll retain the engineers responsible for creating it…that is, if they wish to relocate to Seattle. The rest of the company will be sold off to whomever has an interest in it."

Anastasia would look down. He would immediately miss her eyes. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm sad…for the workers."

Why, he would wonder. He hadn't thought much about the work forces of the companies he'd acquired over the years.

"Well, the engineers have to leave everything they know…maybe family…and the kids lose their friends and have to start at new schools. What if they don't like Seattle and all the rain? You said that this company is in Texas. I remember geography lessons in school and Texas is warm and sunny.

"And maybe a lot of people will lose their jobs. I met people on the streets all the time who used to have jobs but the places they worked closed."

"Well, why didn't they just get new jobs?" Christian asked, perplexed. In ten years, he built a global concern that employed tens of thousands of people. That someone couldn't simply go to work somewhere new had never occurred to him.

"Did you hire any of the people from this company besides the engineers? Did the other people who worked at the company make a lot of money? What about all their bills? Their houses?"

Anastasia went on to tell Christian about different people she'd talked to whose lives were completely upended by a job loss. Some then lost their marriages and then their minds.

"Sometimes they take drugs to feel better or to forget everything."

"You were talking to the druggies?" Even though she was now sitting right next to him and had eaten her dinner, he still felt a surge of fear for her safety.

"I listened a lot. They wanted to talk to someone. Even though there are a lot of people out there, they're very lonely. They miss…everything. There are a lot of different stories. Did you know that Seattle is a very expensive city to live in, Christian? And that you can't get jobs without having an address? I found that out when I got here and tried to get a job at a bar again but I didn't have a place to live and I couldn't find a place that I could afford. They won't hire you when you live in your car, either."

Anastasia then went on to rave about her dessert, Neapolitan ice cream…three flavors in one scoop! Wasn't that great? You didn't have to choose 'cause you got all three!

CHAPTER 70

Along with discovering that he had a heart, Grey was learning that he had a conscience. It…like his heart…had been dormant for all his life but knowing Anastasia was bringing it back to life. Had anyone else dared to question his business practices, Grey would have become irritated to the point of rage.

Now he lay awake, thinking about the homeless…the people he'd only driven by. He was aware that cities were being deeply affected by the deluge of people encroaching even on posh streets like his but his wealth protected him from any inconvenience.

He didn't know that GEH had people who cleaned the sidewalks and forcibly moved unwanted campers far from the doors…down the street to live in front of other, less powerful businesses.

He also didn't know that Escala and the other upscale residencies along the boulevard worked to keep their sidewalks clear of obstacles. He owned his penthouse and never noticed the new charges tacked on to his maintenance fees. His net worth blinded him to the cost of living.

Taylor had also managed to keep his boss from finding out that Anastasia left the building to walk to the nearest homeless to give them loaves of bread and jars of peanut butter. The first time that she'd simply entered the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby, the security member watching the monitors hadn't been paying attention. Mrs. Jones noticed that Anastasia was missing and the place went defcon 1. Anastasia had purchased bags loaded down with bread and peanut butter before Ryan and several other security caught up to her.

She'd smiled brightly at them as if they'd just happened to run into each other. She bought more supplies and had the team help her carry them to the nearest encampments where she distributed the food. For many of the street people, this gift meant that they wouldn't have to rummage through the dumpsters that night if they didn't want.

Anastasia had felt strange about the money she spent at first. It was Christian's money. Still, he had given her this plastic card and told her that it was hers to use for whatever she wanted. Of course, he'd been thinking of clothes and jewelry and fine dining…none of which occurred to Anastasia. Besides, she had new clothes. They'd just turned up in her closet one day and she couldn't find her regular clothes. And she had jewelry, too! Christian had insisted that she wear an engagement ring and a wedding ring. He wore a ring, too…the one she'd put on his finger when they got married. She often caught him looking at it and smiling. She guessed that he must like rings.

Now, he stared at the ceiling and wondered what would happen to the people he was displacing. How large a diaspora had he been responsible for over the past ten years?

CHAPTER 71

"What do you want, dad?" Hyde snarled at his father.

"I've received word that your attorney has quit the firm and moved out of the state! Jack, what did you do?" His father sounded both anxious and angry.

"Nothing much. Asked for a small delay. I don't feel like going to court just yet."

"Well, your reluctance to answer to these charges has cost us a good attorney and his firm. Cable was the only person available. The firm is booked out almost a year. I have to find you new representation somehow. I tried the best firm on the coast…Grey and Associates. Imagine my embarrassment to find that Carrick Grey is the father-in-law of your victim!"

"Victim! I'm the victim! That smelly, disgusting addict tried to touch me. I simply defended myself. This entire affair is a miscarriage of justice. The only reason I can't find a good lawyer in Seattle is because the Grey family owns the town!"

"Well, their influence goes beyond Seattle, Jack. My man has been working the phones for two days. No luck. No one wants to go up against Carrick Grey or his son. Is it true that Christian Grey is having you watched?"

"Yes, dad." Jack said this in mournful tone. "I had to move back into my apartment. Even living in a dump on the other side of town didn't save me from their surveillance. And get this…my landlord wants me out of here. More of Grey's influence."

The truth was somewhat different. The other tenants in Hyde's building were afraid of him. They refused to share an elevator car…such was their fear. The management company didn't have proper grounds to evict him and feared that attempting to do so would only bring his wrath down on their heads.

"I have quite a bit of influence myself, son…here in Portugal. I'm sure that I could prevent the authorities from having you extradited. Come home, Jack," his father pleaded.

Jack held back his mocking laughter. He'd decided that Seattle was his home. He liked all the gray and gloom. It suited him and he wasn't going anywhere.

"Maybe, dad. I'll think about it. Meanwhile, the trial is delayed indefinitely. The Greys must be furious. Take your time finding me an attorney. I'm in no hurry to go to court. Say hi to mom." He rang off without a goodbye.

He did miss his hovel but he'd gotten bored with causing chaos in that neighborhood. Maybe he'd find something to do here among his own kind…and the Greys.

CHAPTER 72

"Ros, thanks for coming in. I wanted to talk with you about something." Grey looked quite serious. It was the kind of serious that Ros recognized as a "big project coming" rather than "there's been a screw-up and I'm looking for a head to lop off".

"What are you thinking about, Christian?"

"The homeless. Also, that new acquisition…let's slow our roll on that. We need to find a way to get the tech without ruining all the families that depend on the jobs at that company."

Ros managed to close her mouth before it hung open too long. She'd seen some changes in her boss lately but this concern for the faceless employees of a company they'd bought was a new one.

"Hmmm…okay. Which would you like to start with?"

Ros was truly intrigued. She herself lived in pretty nice pre-war building a few blocks from Grey with an unfortunately placed steam grate over much of the sidewalk. Consequently, there were dozens of tents and tarp homes at her front door. She lived on the second floor which wasn't high enough to avoid the odors or the noise from below. Fights were common as well as people mentally ill or high screaming gibberish in the middle of the night. No matter how often the SPD removed these people, they would only return. Ros had sadly concluded that she would need to move.

"Well, put a team on the acquisition problem and then one on the homeless issue. First, I need a report on the causes of this problem and what is currently being done about it. Once we've studied that, we'll start to work on solutions."

Ros hadn't seen Grey this determined about a predicament since they'd gone global all those years ago. Getting a foot in the Asian door had not been easy. Those folks were not accustomed to dealing with matters the way GEH chose to do so. Nonetheless, Grey had changed their thinking. Other companies, long used to doing things the Asian way, were now trying to change established understandings and it was an uphill struggle.

"Christian, I'm impressed that you're going to attempt a resolution to such a multi-faceted conundrum…one that has been growing exponentially for so many years. You are aware, I'm supposing, that you are not the first to attempt this."

"It's the first time that I have looked into the issue. Be certain that no employees of Jansen, Inc. miss a paycheck in this acquisition. That's the first step we take."

"Christian, you know that is an unrealistic business model."

CHAPTER 73

"Then perhaps we need to reconfigure the business model. GEH is one of the most successful companies in the world, Ros. We ought to be using that platform to reinvent outdated, injurious business models. We've battled our way to the top. We know how to win wars the old way. Now let's try to find a new way that doesn't leave bodies in our wake.

Ros felt the urge to applaud. He'd never given such a great speech. However, she restrained herself and left the room to begin assembling two teams tasked with assignments unlike any they'd known before. They would be befuddled, she knew. She was looking forward to seeing their faces.

After revving himself up so, Grey felt the need to talk to his wife.

"Hi, Christian! The guys and I are just finishing up with passing out groceries. Can I call you back in a few minutes? Thanks." She rang off without waiting for an answer.

"Sir."

"Taylor, what is my wife doing right now?" He listened as Taylor sighed.

"She and a few security are delivering food to the homeless encampment down the street."

Silence on the other end of the line. Taylor braced himself for one of Grey's temper tantrums.

"This is not a safe thing for Anastasia to be doing," he lectured Taylor between gritted teeth.

"Every precaution is being taken, Sir. Nothing has ever happened that threatened Mrs. Grey."

"Has ever? Taylor, am I to infer that she's done this before?"

"It is a regular occurrence, sir. Your wife has a big heart."

"And why haven't I heard about this until now?"

"We didn't have instructions to report on all of Mrs. Grey's activities. Sir." Taylor rubbed his weary eyes…knowing how lame he sounded.

More silence.

"I'll be leaving the office soon. Pick me up as soon as Mrs. Grey is safely home."

Taylor put his phone back in his pocket and continued his watch. Mrs. Grey liked to talk with the people. She liked to ask questions and have his men take notes. Some people needed more than food. They needed medicine or a social worker's help. Doing this made her feel useful. He would have to make that clear to Grey. It was unlikely that he would forbid her forays down the block but the army around her would certainly double. Taylor would have to begin hunting down future security members.

Watching Mrs. Grey holding someone's hand, listening to them ramble on, Taylor thought that he probably ought to have warned the boss that he wouldn't be leaving the office soon.

CHAPTER 75

"Anastasia!" Grey hollered for his wife as soon as he stepped off the elevator. This wasn't his usual manner of greeting her at the end of the day. Nor was it the end of the day. It was 2 p.m.

Anastasia came running down the hallway, a bit disturbed. Christian had never yelled at her. He looked to be in a foul temper as she ran up to him. She looked up at him, her blue eyes rather teary. He immediately took her into his arms, almost crushing her. She wrapped her arms around his back, patting him and murmuring. He began to relax. She was fine. His worrying was ridiculous, he knew, but he couldn't help himself.

As he lessened his hold on her, he leaned his forehead against hers and took a deep breath.

"I didn't mean to yell. I'm sorry. I was anxious."

Without thinking, Anastasia leaned into him and pressed her lips against his. He returned the kiss and they stood there like that for several minutes. It was reassurance for them both. He hoped that she didn't feel his other reaction to the kiss. He didn't want to scare her.

"Did something happen, Christian?" Her brilliant blues looked into his eyes as she touched his face. Gently, he pulled her close again.

"Just let me hold you for a bit, please?"

"Yes. I want to hold you, too."

And so they stood there…just stood there…enveloped in each other.

"Aren't they the sweetest things, Jason?" Mrs. Jones looked up at man twice her height. He smiled down at her, nodding. Yet, even in this moment, as always in the back of his mind was the visage of a tall man in black.

The man himself was home now. He'd spent his lunch hour sitting in a little café, watching Mrs. Grey passing out food to the dregs of society who were living on the steam grate. He grinned to himself and plotted his next move…a simple one but still genius to his twisted brain.

His trial was postponed until his father could secure a proper attorney and Hyde knew that there wasn't one. Eventually, the court would not allow an attorney to quit and the trial would go forward. Before then, however, Hyde would have finished the job he started…ruining Grey.

Doing so had once been so much more difficult but now all he had to do was kill the wife.

CHAPTER 76

"Christian, you look tired. I heard you last night…first your nightmare and then you roaming. You stopped outside my door. Why didn't you come in?"

They sat, holding hands, on the couch. Christian heaved a heavy sigh. How could he say that he didn't trust himself…that he wanted to protect her even from him.

"I didn't want to wake you. You sleep too lightly as it is. It was just a normal night for me anyway. Did mom make those appointments for you?" he asked, trying to divert her attention.

"Yes, tomorrow. In the morning, I'll see Dr. Greene for my very first physical examination," she smiled. "Then we'll have lunch and shop, tho' I don't know what your mother thinks I need. She said that it's a "girl thing".

Anastasia shrugged and then told Christian that, in the afternoon, they would see a Dr. Nochwood, a dentist. She laughed heartily about his name and her teeth that looked like wood. As he watched her laugh, Christian reflected briefly that he was so used to the way that she looked. He never thought of her smile as lacking. It was wonderful to him. He wondered if he'd like her new one. He also liked that she wasn't self-conscious around him…he was special and he'd take any way to be special to Anastasia that he could get.

"Are you nervous about these appointments, Anastasia? Did Mom explain what will happen in each of them? I don't want you to be scared."

"Yeah, she showed me pictures of what dentists do and how I'll have to keep my mouth open for a long time. She even said that I'll have to go back again. But she said that it won't hurt. She told me a story about the first time you had to go to a dentist."

Again, Anastasia laughed as Christian winced at the memory. He was not well-behaved that day. Among other reactions, he bit the dentist. His mouth was more rotten than Anastasia's. He spent years in the chair. Even after his permanent teeth came in, he had cavities…the teeth were weak…they were discolored. He was lucky to have rich parents because he needed the works for most of his youth. It pained him to think of Anastasia having to go through all he did.

"Honey, I hope you know that you don't have to have your teeth fixed to be pretty."

Before he could go on, Anastasia began to nod, rapidly bobbing her head up and down. "Yes, I do. You think I'm pretty because you love me but other people don't and they'll think that I'm ugly and you were crazy to marry me and that could make people not want to do business with you. I have to make you feel proud when we walk into places together. Grace says that you have to go to lots of fancy events and dinners and stuff and I don't want people to laugh at you because you're with a skinny, dumb girl with really bad teeth."

Before Christian could jump in as Anastasia took a breath, she started up again.

"'Cause all those rich, smart people are already gonna think that you must be crazy to marry me! You could have anyone. I saw pictures on Google. The girls you dated were sooo beautiful and they went to important schools…"

"Whoa, whoa. What girls? I never took girls to…oh, wait. I forgot. No, sweetheart, no…that was a long time ago. I was just starting out and I thought that I had to take college girls to business events to look adult, to make other businessmen….guys in their 50s…take me seriously. Anastasia, none of those girls could ever compete with you.

"You are everything…everything I never knew I needed." And suddenly he was kissing her again…in a way that she couldn't misinterpret as affection or reassurance. She knew that he wanted her desperately.

CHAPTER 77

He softly lowered her down on the couch. The kiss became more intense. His hands caressed her hair and then wandered down her body. He was no longer aware of anything but Anastasia. He knew that he was losing control. Inside, his head was screaming at him to stop…stop! He tried to slow down. He was going to hurt her. He was going to hurt her!

For a second, fear grabbed him and made him jump to his feet. He looked down at his wife. Her eyes were bright but he was too overcome to understand her expression. He mumbled something about sorry and ran for his bedroom.

He flew in the bedroom door and into the en suite where he turned on the shower to its coldest temperature and highest pressure…letting the freezing water pound down on him as he leaned, his palms against the tile. After some time, he slipped to the floor…sitting in a shivering ball with his back against the cold wall.

This is how Anastasia found him. Her heart cracked open wide for this most wonderful of men and drew him in. She knelt before him…her arms around him and the two now soaked. It was no matter that he was shaking with cold. He was overwhelmed with his want for her. He tried to tell her to go but she took his face between her small hands and kissed him. She touched his tongue with hers. Oh, yes. She knew how all this worked. That was one thing she'd been taught in her young life. But it was different with him. It felt good. It didn't feel like it was wrong.

She stood, taking his hand and helping him to his feet. She turned the temperature up and then began to undress him as they stood under the warm water. He was still shaking with cold and craving as she unbuttoned his shirt and set it aside.

His chest was well-muscled, beautiful and marked with what she recognized as cigarette burns. She laid her hands on him and kissed each mark. She knelt again and removed his ruined shoes. Then she undid his belt and his zipper and pulled his pants down. Stunned, he still managed to lift his feet. Soon, he was naked before her.

She studied him and smiled. "You're so beautiful, Christian. I've never seen a man so beautiful." She paused. "You undress me now." He mutely nodded. With trembling hands, he made his way down her body until they were both standing naked together.

He could see how tiny she was…scars here and there. Oh, god. He didn't want to hurt her like all of them. She was so fragile. He kissed the burn on her shoulder. She seemed to read his mind.

Smiling softly, she said, "You can't hurt me, Christian. I'm a tough old boot." She made him smile, too, as she giggled.

CHAPTER 79

Christian tenderly washed Anastasia's hair. Then she washed his while he nuzzled her neck. Inch by inch, they lovingly tended to each other's bodies. He held her head, looking at her face, as he washed her groin. He assumed, but didn't know for certain, that he was watching her experience her first orgasm. As she came down from the high, she stared into his silver eyes, amazed at this new and incredible sensation.

She began to shampoo his pubic hair as his breath came hard. She looked at his cock, thick and hard. "Should I?" she asked. "Yes. Please," he gasped. And so she ran her suds filled hands up and down, lifting the flap to clean under there as well. He was on the edge and so when she kissed the little cap, he was lost. He exploded. His orgasm seemed to go on forever. His legs were shaking. Anastasia helped him to sit on the shower bench as he threatened to collapse.

When he was done, she cleaned his tip. "My, you were really backed up, weren't you?" she noted. He began laughing so hard that he couldn't stop. Anastasia sat on his lap, straddling him…her heart filled with a love that she hadn't known she was capable of feeling for anyone. No one was safe…'til Christian. Until this man, no one had loved her.

As she rested her head against his chest…listening to his laughter, to his heart beat…she marveled to find herself in this position. Married. To a man who loved her and wanted to look out for her. It was hard to fully comprehend. Was she really safe? Did she really have a home? Was it possible?

She hugged him harder…suddenly scared that she was imagining everything that was happening. She felt tears coming.

"Anastasia? Honey? What's wrong?"

She shook her head, unable to say it. He was suddenly afraid himself. Had he hurt her? Had he scared her? He enveloped her more tightly within his arms. He told her that he loved her. He kept murmuring the words as he buried his face in her hair.

"You're cold. Let's get up. I need to get a towel and put you in a warm robe."

Ten minutes later, he'd dried her hair and her tears. He picked her up and set her down on the edge of the bed.

"Can you tell me why you cried? I need to know so that I don't do anything wrong again."

The look on his face…so devastated at the idea that he might have caused her pain in any way.

"No, Christian. I just got scared. I'm so afraid that this isn't real.…tho' it seems so real. It's easy to fool yourself when you need to…when you're wet and cold and hungry and alone."

Christian just nodded. He understood. Sometimes, when he was away from her, he had fearful moments when he wondered if he was wrong. Maybe there was no Anastasia waiting home for him. Maybe he had died that night and he would soon understand that he was in hell…where he belonged.

Would he ever take for granted that she would be there when he came off the elevator? He couldn't conceive of a time when he would feel completely safe if she wasn't with him. If Anastasia worried, he would do everything within his power to end her worry, her fears and her doubts.

CHAPTER 80

The orgasm in the shower had certainly helped but he needed more. He would always need more. Nothing between them would ever end his need for her. And now he wanted to be inside of Anastasia, to be fully apart of her.

He began to kiss her again…and again it quickly became intense. This time he opened her robe and started kissing his way down her body. Suckling her breasts, gently biting her nipples…listening to her reactions. She was breathing harder. She put her hands in his hair…massaging and pulling.

He was hard in an instant but he wanted to take his time…for her. He carefully parted her legs as he knelt before her, burying his face in her pubic hair. Then he leaned back and moved the hair aside so that he could see her clearly…so pink and moist. He licked her lips and rejoiced. She was so wet. She was aroused. She wanted him, too!

She was his and he took full advantage…sucking, licking, inhaling her scent…plunging his tongue inside her as deeply as possible. She was heaven! As much as he'd wanted her since the first time he looked into her eyes, he hadn't dreamed that it would be as wonderful as the reality.

Anastasia screaming his name was more than he could take. He needed to be inside of her. Somehow, he managed it gently…still afraid of hurting her…but she wrapped her legs around him and gripped his buttocks, pulling him closer.

"Oh, Christian. I can feel you. Harder, please. I need all of you."

Every word she spoke drove him crazier. Every word was new. All those women he'd been with over all those years must have said all this and more to him but he couldn't recall anything about those encounters. Nothing. They were all nothing.

This was everything. To have Anastasia in his heart, in his arms. To have her squeezing him to keep him close. It was all that he would ever require.

As she arched her back and cried out, he came screaming her name, over and over. Never in his life had he felt like this. It was like standing at the center of a thunderstorm with lightening striking the ground all around him.

He couldn't leave her and she didn't want him to go. He rolled them onto their sides, legs entwined, his cock still buried deep inside her, both gasping for breath. They held each other's faces and looked into blues and grays.

When they could speak again, she told him one of her secrets.

"That night, in the ambulance, I wanted to stay in the dark. It was warm and comfortable…but something was pulling at me, like a magnet. I had to open my eyes. I saw nothing but you…your silver eyes intent on mine. Then I didn't want to go back into the dark but I couldn't help it."

"Oh, Anastasia. I'm so in love with you."

CHAPTER 81

After they exhausted themselves, they talked…sharing all they could about each other. Anastasia matter-of-factly told Christian about her childhood, her parents, her woods, her school days and life in Portland and Seattle before they met. Christian had a thousand questions. He needed to know everything and was amazed to realize that after just a couple of hours, he knew more about this woman then he did people he'd known all his life. And yet, he wanted to know still more.

"Anastasia, I'm honored that you shared all of this with me," he said, so earnestly that she giggled. He was slightly wounded until she told him that she didn't know what an honor it could be to know her dull, rather awful, life story. He'd been around the world with his parents and siblings. He'd founded one of the most successful privately owned companies in the world. He could play piano like a professional. He was brilliant and she still didn't get what he saw in her.

"I'm nothing, Christian. My story is a few paragraphs. Yours is a couple of volumes."

"Although I had a rough start, I was given everything as a child. I have had loving, supportive parents and siblings. I worked hard, true, but it paid off. You've worked much harder just to stay alive. You've never given up no matter the horrors you've experienced. I've said it before, Anastasia. I think that you are a wonder and I admire you."

Anastasia smiled and kissed him lightly on his lips and he knew that she doubted that she was deserving of all his admiration. Never mind. He would just keep telling her until she believed.

Then he loved her again and again and again. They were unable to stop. Now and again, they would shower and eat but then they made more love. Sometimes it was slow, sometimes urgent…always passionate. It was as if they'd discovered air and they couldn't get enough.

Grey notified Ros that she was acting CEO. He was on his honeymoon. Of the few times they left their bedroom, it was to attend doctor and dental appointments. The doctor appointments were encouraging. Anastasia was gaining weight. All her vitals were much improved. A malnourished childhood had left her with a body that would never be as strong as it was meant to be but she was improving daily.

The dental appointments were harder. Sitting still in that chair with her mouth hanging open was so tiring. Grey would pace the waiting room…ignoring the gaping stares of women helpless before this Adonis. He occasionally wondered why they were staring but mostly he worried about what his wife was going through. She would emerge finally, tired but pleased with the latest improvement. She was beginning to have a smile that she didn't feel compelled to cover with her hand.

The other reason they left their bed was to deliver food to the homeless, blocks down. Anastasia laughed…noting that there seemed to be more security around them than people in need of the food they brought. That certainly wasn't true. As word had gotten around that a lady was bringing food every day, more homeless crowded the steam grate.

Christian smiled, shook hands when Anastasia introduced him to those whose names she knew…and kept a sharp eye out for anyone tall, dressed in black.

CHAPTER 82

But Jack was smarter than that. He dressed like a homeless person. He shuffled along, his back hunched. He mumbled to himself to discourage others from talking with him. He smeared dirt on his face and he dyed his blonde hair gray. He bought a small tent and cackled to himself when Anastasia called out hello and told him that she was leaving a bag of food just outside. The bitch was feeding him! What a hoot!

Every night he would make a show of wandering off and would return to his luxurious apartment a few blocks from Escala. He could shower, order takeout, watch television and sleep on a $5000 mattress. At dawn he would rise, don his disguise and return to his tent.

People might wonder where he'd spent the night but they never asked. Sometimes, he'd find that his sleeping bag was gone but he never said anything. He needed to call as little attention to himself as possible.

Once one of his neighbors told Anastasia about his nightly roaming and that it made him a victim of thieves on occasion. So, naturally, she brought him a new sleeping bag. He had to bury his face in the bag to muffle his laughter. However, thereafter, he would roll up the bag and take it with him.

He spent his days thinking…how to get past all those guards…how to get to Grey's wife, especially now that Grey was always with her, looming protectively. Some days he felt discouraged…until he reminded himself that his was a genius mind.

The trial was certainly not a problem and wouldn't be for quite a while. Every lawyer that his dumb ass father dug up would quit after realizing that Jack was insane and dangerous. A couple of them had to be subtly threatened but most spent a session or two with Jack and resigned.

Carrick was more and more furious. The DA wasn't sleeping well. The judge assigned to the case was soon to call time on the revolving attorneys and Mr. Hyde knew this because he was having to promise enormous amounts of money for a lawyer to even speak with his son. Soon, he knew, the judge would appoint an attorney for Jack and it would be some inexperienced kid fresh out of law school…a public defender already overloaded with work.

Jack was vaguely aware of time running out but was confident that he could accomplish his goal before the trial began. A lack of ego was not a problem for Jack Hyde.

CHAPTER 83

A lack of common sense, however, was a serious problem for Hyde. He didn't notice that the doormen at his building had gone on vacation, with smiling and obsequious replacements watching him come and go. He also didn't think to notice the tiny cameras embedded in the molding around his ceilings.

"Our maniac is sleeping like a baby," Ryan smirked in reply to Taylor's inquiry. "I turned the audio down because he snores like a freight train."

"He's going to be very surprised when we show films at his trial of him impersonating a homeless man at the steam grate that Mrs. Grey visits every day. I can hear his poor lawyer trying to convince the jury that he's just eccentric and it's all a coincidence."

"He's isn't stalking the woman he nearly beat to death, your honor. He's just doing research on how to help the homeless," Ryan laughed. Taylor just shook his head. The films wouldn't be admissible at trial, he knew.

"That day that Mrs. Grey approached his tent and left food," Taylor stood, shaking his head in dismay. "It took everything I had to keep from leaping in front of her. He could have stuck a knife in her so easily and we wouldn't have even seen in coming."

"Well, we all know now to take the food from her, if necessary, and keep her away from that tent. Besides, Taylor, this nut seems to think that he's going to get away with all this. I overheard Grey on the phone with his dad the other day. Another new lawyer."

"Yes. This one is trying to get the charges reduced to simple assault. His client was just upset and didn't mean to stomp anyone near to death. Good thing we have an attorney in the family…and a ton of influence. Anyone less important than a Grey and he'd get off with probation. It's a shame but that's the way it is and it plays in our favor. I sure wouldn't want to be around if the boss lost his wife."

"Taylor, just my opinion, but I don't think the boss would be around any longer than it took to bury the missus," Ryan sadly surmised.

Taylor agreed but sometimes he wondered how much obsession was mixed in with all the genuine love that Grey felt for Anastasia.

CHAPTER 84

Anastasia wondered the same thing. He'd said that he was in love with her. Every day he told her that he loved her…several times a day. She was a simple girl, poorly educated and puzzled by much of what she was learning about the world since she left her tiny town…but she was smart, too…and suspicious of good things.

Were they real? Would they last? Her husband had told her that he married her because he loved her, wanted to keep her safe, needed to keep her near. She wanted to believe him but she was on unsteady ground. She often awoke, deep in the night, wondering if her parents were still alive. She was of age, now. She knew they couldn't come for her even if they cared to do so. Still. She'd left a lot of boogey men behind her…before this life. And one of them was close by.

She'd noticed that one of the security team had started to lurk near a particular tent at the steam grate. She grimaced to herself. Everyone thought that she was such an innocent who saw only the good in others. Lord…what a miscalculation that was.

She'd learned early in life to be on the lookout for the bad coming her way. To see the good, she had to try hard. With some people, like Mrs. Jones, it was easy. With others…she knew that Tay was on her side, charged with protecting her, but she could also see a dark side to him. Most everyone had one…even the man sleeping next to her, holding her, his lips on her skin.

And what if that dark side emerged? What if she was in the way when it did? She shifted her position to look at her man.

"Anastasia, are you all right? Did you have a bad dream? Would you like a glass of water?"

"Sleep," she pretended to mumble, snuggling closer. Within seconds, he was breathing evenly again.

He thought that he loved her, yes, but how long would it last? Anastasia couldn't conceive of forever. She'd never thought of living long anyway. Life had always been so dangerous.

They never spoke of him…of Hyde…but he was close, watching. She believed that he would kill her. Somehow, it was even a comforting thought. This life, almost 21 years of it, had worn so on her soul. Every day was a struggle.

Yes, she was married…to a handsome billionaire…like something out of a storybook. She lived in a castle on a hill with servants to tend to her every need. Mrs. Jones wouldn't even teach her how to use that complicated washing machine. She could buy anything that she wanted. In fact, it seemed to frustrate Christian that she bought only food for the homeless. He thought that she simply identified with them and their plight but that wasn't entirely true.

She was still a defenseless little girl…living in a cabin by the woods…hiding in those woods and foraging for berries and chewing on bark to lessen the hunger pangs…hyper alert for the sound of heavy boots stumbling toward her. Sometimes he caught her and would throw her to the ground…and hurt her.

Shivering, she blinked back tears and curled into Christian.

CHAPTER 85

"Honey, would you like to go for a boat ride?"

"I'll bet you own a boat, don't you," Anastasia teased him. The more she learned about his many possessions…a fleet of cars, property, an airplane…the more she was amazed at what she'd married into.

"We own a boat. Remember, half of all I have is yours. No prenup," he grinned. It delighted him that they didn't have a prenup. He actually felt more secure without one. It meant that this marriage would last, that his wife would never leave him.

His family hadn't looked at it like that. They had…how best to put it…gone berserk.

There were so many voices coming at him at one time that he couldn't catch all the words.

Insane. Crazy. Damn fool. Puddin' head…yeah, that one would be Mia. Even his father was flummoxed by his son's foolishness.

"Son, there's still time to get Anastasia to agree to a postnuptial agreement."

Christian simply smiled and shook his head no. As they continued their assault on his eardrums, he faded out…Anastasia. Warm, soft, with her hair scattered on the pillow as she slept. Anastasia, lost to the world as she curled into her chair in the library, her nose in a heavy tome…the dictionary at hand. Anastasia, her eyes wide with the thrill of a new food. And, mostly, Anastasia just there, home, waiting for him to come off the elevator.

"Christian, are you listening?" Grace asked.

"No, mom." The family engaged in a collective sigh. Perhaps they were finally conceding defeat.

"Yes, I'd love to go for a boat ride. I lived near a river as a child but the water was brown. What color is the water where your boat is?"

"Our boat," he reiterated, "is berthed at a marina on the Sound. It's a sailboat and the water is blue."

30 minutes later, they were climbing aboard The Grace…Christian carrying a heavy wicker picnic basket. He was hoping this outing would arouse Anastasia's appetite…for food, among other things.

He was loving his sex life. It felt like he'd never had one before. All those encounters with escorts were meaningless tension relievers…like masturbating in the shower. He was still getting calls and emails from Elena Lincoln.

"Elena, I'm a married man. You do know that, right? So, why are you still trying to foist women on me?"

"Variety is the spice of life, Christian," she'd responded merrily. "Surely, that simpleton you married knows nothing of how to please you. My girls are trained and will do anything you ask. There's a new thing that's really catching on now. It's called choking and it's quite effective."

"Riiight," Grey drawled out. "I don't want to choke my wife or to be choked."

"Well, my girls are also trained in all aspects of BDSM. Now, don't tell me that your little wifey would agree to be trussed up while you pound into her."

Christian winced. "This might be a strange notion to someone like you, Elena, but I enjoy making love with my wife. I don't want to strangle her, tie her up, beat her with belts. I don't even want to spank her. I just want to love her."

Elena sighed. She hated to lose a good client, especially this one. There must be a way to get him back. Perhaps she was speaking with the wrong person?

CHAPTER 86

Christian had gone into the office…something urgent that only he could handle. He grumped and growled about it as Anastasia sat on the bed watching him dress. He was so handsome that he took her breath away.

She'd learned to do his tie so he always came to her now for that finishing touch. Listening to her breathing as she wrapped it around his neck and formed a perfect Windsor knot, he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. When she put his collar down and kissed him, he fought the urge to tear all his clothes off. Instead, he hugged her hard…as if he could meld her to him.

"I'll probably need a couple of hours to talk these people off the ledge, sweetheart. What will you do while I'm gone?"

"I'll go shopping."

"Great! There are a lot of boutiques around here."

"What's a boutique? Is that a dress shop?"

"Yes. You could put on a fashion show for me when I get back." She couldn't miss the excitement in his voice. Maybe she ought to really try to buy pretty clothes…to please him. Except that she already had a closet full of things he'd bought for her and all she ever wore were sweatsuits, jeans and t-shirts. Yes, she thought, I need to try harder.

"I have to take Taylor with me," he frowned. He'd rather have Taylor watching Anastasia but there had been an increase in death threats and Taylor didn't trust anyone else to guard Grey. Arguing with Taylor about his safety vs. his wife's safety could be exasperating. Taylor had a small army looking out for Anastasia and he grew petulant if Grey questioned their expertise. He'd worked hard to put together a security force for the Greys and objected to any implication that they weren't up to the job.

"Christian, I have Ryan, Baxter, Stewart, etc. I'll be just fine…and I'll be at ease knowing that Taylor is looking out for you." She smiled at him, thinking what a strange life she led.

As soon as they'd kissed goodbye at the elevator, Anastasia rummaged through her closet and found a pretty sundress. It was a pleasant day in Seattle. Maybe after she'd distributed food, she'd hunt down those boutiques and a dress to please her husband.

She stepped out into the great room in her dress and flats and hair in a high ponytail. Without a word from her lips, she was swiftly greeted by her "boys". She bid them all a good morning, informed them of the addition to the usual routine and let them groan as she told them that they would have to come inside each shop to help her choose a dress. Then they crowded into the elevator car and rapidly descended to the world below.

Until Christian brought her home, she'd never been in an elevator and it terrified her. As soon as he'd gotten her settled in, he called building maintenance and ordered an immediate and extremely detailed evaluation of the elevator so that he could tell Anastasia that it was safe. He was Christian Grey so it was done. The certificate on the wall of the car was some reassurance.

Since then, Anastasia had come to understand that where her health and safety were concerned, Christian had it covered. She needn't worry. She thought back to their outing on his their boat a few days earlier. He'd all but lashed her to a mast. He'd allowed her to take off her life jacket only while they were making love but then it was right back on…sitting otherwise naked on the bed, eating lunch.

No, Christian had it covered…mostly.

CHAPTER 87

When they arrived at the steam grate, Ryan immediately took a bag of food to that tent, the one slightly removed from the other people. He unzipped the flap just enough to toss the bag inside. He considered greeting Hyde but, just in case the whack job still believed that he was incognito, he refrained.

Every time Hyde departed for the night, Baxter gave his tent a thorough going-over to search for anything that could be used as a weapon. Every morning, Stewart and Ryan watched the monitors eagle-eyed as Hyde dressed for the day to be certain that he didn't smuggle a weapon in his clothing. Still, they watched intently while Anastasia talked and gave food to the grate-dwellers.

The group living there had been growing for a while after word got around about the food give-away but then it had decreased as word got around about the strange guy living in the shiny new tent. The people were afraid of him and avoided any contact.

Having done her good deed for the day, Anastasia announced…giggling…that it was time to go shopping. The grim expressions on her boys' faces tickled her.

Ryan posted two men…two grateful men…at the entrance to Catherine's Shoppe while he dragged three men inside, scattering them among the dress racks. He apologized to the saleswoman for the inconvenience but she was unperturbed. The other customers were, on the other hand, intrigued by all this fuss. Who was this woman?

Ryan settled himself in a chair facing Anastasia's dressing room. The saleswoman asked her some questions to ascertain her exact needs and then selected a few items for her to try on. Anastasia felt quite shy. Everyone was staring at her and the saleswoman was being so obsequious. She fought the almost overwhelming urge to run out of the store. Why had she thought that this would be so easy?

It was new territory…again. She was used to the penthouse now. She wanted to run back there but she put aside her fear as best she could. She was doing this for Christian. He did everything for her. She forced a smile and nodded at the saleswoman, Doreen, who then steered her into a spacious room. She insisted on staying with Anastasia to help her dress which only added to her discomfort…especially when Doreen clucked in dismay at the sight of Anastasia's underwear. Only, Doreen called it lingerie.

Soon Anastasia found herself gaping at her reflection in a mirror, wearing lingerie…underwear that consisted of silk stockings clipped to panties that barely covered her pubic hair and a lacy bra that seemed to be trying to push her breasts up and out. Doreen recommended a salon down the street where Anastasia could have a Brazilian wax. Anastasia pretended that she knew what Doreen was talking about.

She tried on several dresses…all of which Ryan approved…so she bought them and she stuffed the lingerie into the shopping bag. After Doreen noted the name on the credit card handed to her by her mystery shopper, her obsequiousness rose to new heights. She all but kissed Anastasia's feet. Word got around the store fast and Anastasia found herself surrounded by women wanting to "just say hello and congratulations". She didn't know what they were talking about and she was beginning to panic.

Unfortunately, her day was about to offer up still another challenge.

CHAPTER 88

As Ryan gathered up his men from the dress racks, Anastasia stood trying to control her trembling. She jumped a bit when she felt a hand on her back. She turned to face a lovely older woman with a warm smile.

"Overwhelming, isn't it?" the woman smiled sympathetically. "I thought I saw a bit of myself in you. I grew up quite poor and, although my circumstances have changed, I still feel just a little out of place in a fancy shop. Of course, being who you are gets everyone excited."

"Who am I?" Anastasia asked.

"Why…you are Mrs. Christian Grey…wife of the dreamy, enigmatic billionaire that no other woman has ever been able to catch," the woman chuckled.

"Oh, yeah. I suppose people are interested in my husband…although I didn't catch him."

"You didn't?" queried the stranger.

"No. He sort of caught me, actually."

The woman laughed. "Well, good for you. I can see that you're not all overcome with your good fortune. Some women who married such a man would be insufferable. You're so down-to-earth. You look tired. There is a sweet little café just a few doors down where we could get a drink and a sandwich. Would you please have lunch with an old lady?"

The woman had put Anastasia at ease, something like Mrs. Jones, and Anastasia had a weakness for motherly types so she agreed. They walked out the door with Ryan and crew following. Ryan was on high alert.

As they took seats in a booth, Ryan and his team took chairs all around them. Neither the woman nor Anastasia took notice.

"This is a nice café. Maybe Christian and I could have lunch here sometime. Our housekeeper is such a great chef that we don't go out to eat."

"Never?" the woman's eyebrows rose.

"Well, once on his boat."

"That's your boat, too, dear. Community property."

Anastasia laughed. "That's what Christian says every time I refer to something as his instead of ours. Truth to tell, I still don't feel that any of it is mine. I did nothing to earn it and he worked so hard to become rich."

"Yes, well, he came from money and he was gifted with a brilliant mind so…" she trailed off.

"Yes, I understand that he had advantages but he understands that, too. He gives a lot of his money away. I'm proud of his generosity. He has a big heart."

"I have to confess something, my dear, and I hope that you won't be upset with me. I don't mean to be deceitful."

Anastasia felt the hair on her arms stand up. She'd taken a chance. Mrs. Jones had told her that most people were good at heart. She was trying to believe that.

"I should introduce myself, Mrs. Grey. My name is Mrs. Elena Lincoln."

CHAPTER 89

"Perhaps your husband mentioned my name, here and there? We travel in the same social circles, you see. Although, I haven't seen him in many months. I suspect the "social circle" he enjoys at home is enough for him," Mrs. Lincoln smiled sweetly.

"No, I've never heard your name. Do you know my husband well, Mrs. Lincoln? I haven't yet met his friends."

"Oh, my dear, Christian doesn't really have friends, per se. He has associates, colleagues…that sort of thing. I've probably had the opportunity to get closer to him than anyone outside his family."

The hair on Anastasia's arms was still prickling but she didn't understand why. Mrs. Lincoln's manner and voice were so kindly…so friendly. Anastasia put it down to her own cynicism.

"What opportunity is that, Mrs. Lincoln?"

"Oh, I don't know if I should say. It is rather personal. I would have thought that Christian might have told you about his life before you. Don't young lovers talk about their past relationships with other people anymore?"

Anastasia thought for a moment. She did recall a night when they'd stayed up late, talking. She had confessed to him that the little she knew of sex was the rapey sort. She'd said it like that because she was trying to be nonchalant so that Christian wouldn't feel sorry for her. His reaction was more anger and she'd had to calm him down before he sent men to kill her father and every man she'd tried to forget had touched her.

She'd told him that she was lucky…she'd never contracted any diseases…so that was a good thing, right? To her shock, he began crying…crying for the little girl who grew to be a young woman who thought that sexual assault was just the way it was for people like her.

Then she tried again to distract him by asking about his past, his women before her. He'd simply said that there were a lot of faceless, unemotional encounters…no one meant anything before Anastasia.

"Well, I gather he had a lot of casual sex…nothing of any importance."

"Hmm…that's too bad. All those young ladies, lovely well-bred young women, that I sent to him…each one was quite invested. They cried so when he rebuffed them. None were much older than you and were quite expert in sexual matters. I trained them myself, you see, to meet Christian's needs. They knew how to please him in every way and they asked nothing of him except to see him again. Alas, he was always on to someone new."

Mrs. Lincoln laughed. "I had quite a time of it finding fresh faces for Mr. Grey. Now I have a stable of young women with broken hearts."

Anastasia's face was just the picture, Elena chuckled to herself. How much further should I go with this? She wondered. Oh, maybe just a bit.

"Yes, a man like Christian, while a very lovely man, is always a little full of himself. He expects a lot of the world and is easily disappointed. Rather sad, really. He can have anything and isn't happy for long with all he has."

Elena was about to go on when the door to the café slammed open and the cold fury of Christian Grey strode across the room to their small round table. With fire in his eyes, he lifted the edge of the table and threw it several feet. Anastasia was stunned. She'd never seen this side of Christian. Elena attempted to look alarmed.

Christian grabbed Anastasia's hand and forcefully dragged her away and out the door. He almost shoved her into the car and with shaking hands, clipped her into her seat belt. Drive, Taylor, he said.

CHAPTER 90

Elena still sat in her chair, highly amused. There were a few customers staring at her, appalled to hear her cackling. Elena told herself that they were all impressed by her ladylike composure. The waitress carefully approached her with the check which Elena accepted. She paid the bill and left her usual 10% tip. The waitress set to cleaning up the mess as Elena strutted out the door.

It had been a very good day, indeed. She'd been stalking that pathetic trailer trash that Grey had taken in for weeks but all she ever did was feed that rubbish down the street and then take a little walk with a phalanx of photographers in front of her and Christian's phalanx of guards behind her. Elena had to admit to being slightly awed by the girl's poise. She'd look at the tall buildings, the expensive vehicles, the upscale boutiques…sometimes wandering down to the private park. The man in charge of her army would unlock the gate and follow the girl inside while the other men would keep watch.

Despite all of Elena's airs, she couldn't quite afford to live in this posh area and so was not privy to the charms of the little park. She'd stood, like an orphan staring in the window of a family enjoying a Christmas goose, looking through the bars of the fence…longing to have that key. For a time, she'd been doing quite well, overcharging Christian Grey, but now she was just breaking even. She'd counted on him bragging to other men like him about the sexual delights to be had from patronizing Elena's Elite Escorts but he'd said nothing and had made her sign an NDA so that she was unable to use his name to advertise her business.

As she'd stood across the street from the park, watching Anastasia, Elena's resentment grew. What the hell did Grey see in this plain little thing? He'd been treated to phenomenal sex with experts and he'd chosen this? She had to meet Mrs. Grey and suss out her appeal.

Well, she'd done so and she was still baffled but now, at least, she could see that Grey was fiercely possessive.

What Elena didn't understand was that the furious man who'd come for Anastasia was not angry with his wife…he was scared. He was scared to lose her…scared of what Elena might have revealed to Anastasia.

Anastasia was an innocent, in his eyes…highly susceptible to the machinations of a harridan like Mrs. Lincoln. She would twist the truth to make it ugly and repulsive to someone as sweet as Anastasia.

"Anastasia, whatever that woman told you was lies. Even the truth, she can exploit. Do you understand?" His face was no long red with anger. He was pale.

"Christian, she tried to convince me that you enjoyed incredible sex with a lot of different women…none more than once. She implied that you would tire of me and require variety."

"No, Anastasia. Don't listen…" Anastasia put up her hand to stop him.

"You told me some time ago that all the sex you've had in the past was meaningless…that the sex you have with me is the best and all you could ever dream of."

"Anastasia, if you let me…" She stopped him again.

"Who do you think I'm going to believe, Christian? My devoted, loving husband or some woman who is disappointed that she's lost one of her best customers?"

Christian stared at Anastasia for a long moment as it dawned on him that he'd nothing to fear from Elena's words. He could breathe again. He unclipped his wife's seat belt and pulled her onto his lap. He held her head with one hand and gently kissed her.

"I need you. I've never needed anyone but I need you…in and out of bed. That need is only growing. I'm sorry that I underestimated you. Will you forgive me?"

Anastasia smiled and returned his kiss.

CHAPTER 91

Jack Hyde's apartment was plastered with the covers of the tabloids…all of which displayed innocuous stories about Mr. and Mrs. Grey with pictures of them covering the space above the fold. Tabloids were doing big business these days because of all the outsized interest in both the Greys. For years, Mr. Grey had little to offer the public but now he could be seen often…doing interesting things like interrupting his wife's lunch, tossing tables, pushing Anastasia into his car. This behavior offered the tabloid wonderful opportunities to imagine the truth and wonder about the reality of the couple's life together.

Was Grey perhaps abusive and controlling? That would certainly track with the man they'd always known. Was his pretty petite wife fearful of him and what was with all the do-gooding with the homeless that littered the sidewalks? Was this spectacle supposed to reflect charitably on Mr. Grey…sending his wife off to tend to the little people while he hid out on the 30th floor of Grey House, tearing companies apart and adding to his billions?

And why was the wife of a multi-billionaire always dressed in jeans and a t-shirt? For some reason, Mrs. Grey's wardrobe was a source of fascination to people. Some theorized that she was cleverly attired in the same thing day after day because the photos then all looked the same, foiling the paparazzi's attempt to earn a living following her around.

Still. They never stopped. Anastasia acted as though they weren't there even as they shouted the most appalling and obnoxious questions at her in an effort to get a reaction.

"Are you Grey's beard?" They'd yell…hoping for an angry or hurt expression. Instead, Mrs. Grey had simply halted in her tracks, whispered something to Ryan, nodded and continued on.

"Are you pregnant? What's Grey like in bed? We've heard that he's rough. We've heard that he's dull…bad…boring, etc. Does Grey beat you? Is that bruise on your arm from him?"

Of course, there was no bruise on Anastasia's arm and the photographers were frustrated that they couldn't get her to look.

Mrs. Grey examines painful injury on her arm. Abusive hubby?

Yet, try as they may…they couldn't get a headline out of this woman that would really stick. They'd tried to make something of her smiling and talking to her guard dogs but this, too, was an everyday thing so…

Mrs. Jones was a reader of The Nooz, the preeminent tabloid in Seattle…although the publisher insisted that his was a newspaper and the Greys just happened to be part of the daily news.

Mrs. Jones was more interested in the cooking column and its recipes but Christian knew where she kept "the damn bird cage liner" and often snuck a look. The front page never failed to feature Mr. and Mrs.…but mostly, Mrs. Grey. The quality of the paper used was cheap and, therefore, pictures of his wife were rather grainy. Photos of Anastasia laughing with Taylor didn't bother him because he knew that his security chief was sweet on Mrs. Jones but those with Ryan got his back up.

Anastasia just giggled at his jealousy…then other things "got up". As soon as he had her naked, everything else was forgotten. He never failed to look into her eyes and tell her…"you are mine". She normally ignored his possessiveness but when his silver eyes looked so intensely into hers, she felt overwhelmed, her heart hammering.

"Yes, Christian, I am yours."

CHAPTER 92

Jack looked around at the fire hazard that he'd created with his collection of tabloids. He stared obsessively at every photo of Mrs. Grey…the crazy inside of him intensifying. Some days, he didn't leave the apartment. He got so lost in tacking his photos of Mrs. Grey onto his walls and wandering the pathways through all those on the floor that he'd forget to eat. He never forgot to drink, however, carrying a can of beer constantly. He'd wake to the sun coming in the windows…lying on the floor or slumped in a chair where he'd ended up the night before as he stared at Anastasia.

One day he decided to switch it up. He'd no longer be one the homeless…that confined him to one spot. No, better to be one of the slime with cameras. He studied their clothing and put together his disguise. He bought a high-quality camera and became one of the papa-nazzi who were stalking his prey.

His first day as a photog was such a high. He was so close to her, able to glare at her undetected behind a camera lens. It took a little while to get used to walking backwards as part of the group in front of her. The paparazzi did a lot of jumping around as well…side to side, on top of the fancy planters on the sidewalks…sometimes behind her.

Jack was unaccustomed to so much exercise. Within a few blocks, he was breathing hard and attempting to hide it from the others. Of course, they weren't much interested in him while they were working. Once Anastasia had gone back inside, however, they stood around comparing notes.

That's when they noticed the newcomer. Jack told them that he was a freelancer from out of town. He didn't plan on being around long but he had to get some coverage for the papers in Portland and other places. This was a reasonable explanation but the guys still wondered about him. He was different…something uncomfortably different.

One day one of the paps, hoping for a deal, approached Charlie, the lobby guard, saying that he had important information to share with Mr. Grey. Bernie dutifully alerted security who came down to talk with Jose. Jose, hoping to barter his information for a one-of-a-kind picture of the Greys, refused to speak with anyone but the man himself.

Security shared this turn of events with Taylor who spoke with Grey.

"Well, we already know that Hyde's changed his tactics so why should we bother with this guy? I don't want any of those people to get the idea that they can get to us with this ruse."

Taylor explained that he had something else in mind…a better use of the hoard…so Grey agreed to meet with Jose.

Jose couldn't believe his luck. He was being allowed into the palatial quarters of the Greys. Riding up in the elevator, he was calculating his odds of sneaking images of the penthouse when Taylor asked him to hand over his camera.

Still. He was in, quickly memorizing details that he could share with his editor…walls of windows, chandeliers, a winding staircase, marble floors, the fireplace….

"Come in, Mr. Estefan. Please, have a seat. Now…what can I do for you?" Jose was surprised to find that Mr. Grey was pleasant and well-mannered. His office was large but not grand…just a simple space with a desk, a couch and a couple of chairs. There were cabinets along the wall behind Grey and on his desk, Jose could see a single photo frame. He noticed the light from it changed slightly every few seconds.

"I have one of those at home as well," he smiled at Grey. He knew that the image changed often and he guessed that the pictures were of Grey's family. Close.

Grey smiled and he turned the frame so that Jose could see. The pictures were all of his wife, one after the other.

"It is a handy invention. Rather than hanging pictures all over the walls and looking from one to the other, I can just look at this. It's my favorite tv show."

Jose was amazed that Grey was being so open with him but he decided not to press his luck.

"Well, I wanted to inform you of a new guy who's joined those of us who photograph your wife. None of us know him, have ever heard of him and we all have a bad feeling about him."

"Yes, I am aware of this man and his intentions. I had you up here to ask for your help."

"My help? Well, of course, anything. What is it that you want me to do?"

"Exactly what you already do, Mr. Estefan…follow my incredibly tolerant wife but, while doing so, keep an eye on this stranger. See that he doesn't get too close. I'm sure that you're good at elbowing your competitors out of the way," he chuckled. "Mostly, watch him and let Charlie know if this guy does anything unusual. I figure that you would be alert to anything odd on any given day. Maybe you'll catch something my security team doesn't."

Taylor quietly huffed.

"Well, if it's anything you don't know…although I'm sure that you do…the guys and I think that behind the disguise is Jack Hyde and We. Are. Totally. Creeped. Out. We're a pretty tough bunch, freelancers, but this guy gives off psycho vibes, ya know?"

"Oh, yes. I know, Mr. Estefan. You and your friends out there need to be careful. Don't alert Hyde. Just ignore. He tends to get angry and form grudges. However, as I said, if you notice anything unusual, I'd be appreciative of your sharing that information. Oh, and warn the others, nothing in the papers about his presence."

Grey leaned forward, speaking in a low tone, "He'll know and he won't forgive."

Jose shuddered. Suddenly, following Mrs. Grey looked like a dangerous way to make a living. He didn't see Taylor standing him, stifling a grin.

"Now, I'd like to thank you for your help, Mr. Estefan. Would a posed photo with my wife do?"

Jose's head bobbed up and down enthusiastically as Grey called for Anastasia. She came around a corner, dressed in her new outfit from Catherine's with her hair falling around her shoulders. Grey wasn't the only one who found her to be beautiful. With proper nourishment, dental and medical care, she had blossomed. Her hair was thicker and rather lush. There was a glow about her cheeks and her smile was brilliant.

Of course, she'd been warned about this visit with Mr. Estefan and her part in it. Otherwise, he'd have found a woman in a sweatsuit and ponytail.

"Darling, this is Jose Estefan, a freelance photographer."

"Yes, I recognize you, Mr. Estefan. How are you doing today?" Since Anastasia usually treated the paparazzi like a blank wall in front of her, this friendly acknowledgement was dazzling Jose.

"I'm having a real good day, Mrs. Grey. Do you mind if I take a photo of you and Mr. Grey?"

"No, and since you are a professional, perhaps you could send a copy to us. It would be our first formal portrait."

By now, Jose was fairly faint with excitement. Mrs. Grey was not a street urchin adopted by a dirty old man. She was charming and sophisticated and gracious…completely at ease in her magnificent penthouse in the sky. She beamed at Grey and beckoned him to her side as she posed in front of the fireplace. Jose smiled inwardly at Mr. Grey's eagerness to join her.

They stood with their arms around each other, smiling at the camera and then smiling shyly at each other. Jose got some great shots. Today was going to be a big payday. He promised the couple that as soon as he developed the film, he'd message over copies. They shook his hand and thanked him for his help.

Yep, a very big payday it had been.

CHAPTER 93

Waving goodbye to a dazed Mr. Estefan at the elevator, Anastasia muttered to Grey, "Now get me out of this getup." Grey waggled his eyebrows and, arm around her waist, escorted her quickly to their bedroom.

"Christian," Anastasia spoke as Grey slowly moved her stockings down her legs, "I've been reading about sex acts on google." Grey's knees nearly gave way.

"Have you now. I'm afraid to ask what you've discovered. I am doing my best."

Anastasia giggled and leaned over to run her hands through his hair. Now he was undoing her stockings with her sweet little breasts dangling in front of his face. Shouldn't silk be easier to slide down a woman's leg? He griped to himself.

"No, Christian, that wasn't what I was reading up on." He loved it when she said his name but there were other words he was longing to hear.

Finally, the stockings and the dress were off. He pushed her back onto the bed and leaned over her naked body. He balanced his weight on his forearms as he pressed his mouth on hers, gently moving his tongue in and around her mouth. Sometimes she just let him wander around her mouth and other times, she dueled with his tongue. Sometimes, she just wanted to play with his lips. It was all instinct with Anastasia. She hadn't been trained by a pimp masquerading as a lady of refinement.

His hands began to slide down her soft skin when she stopped him. He leaned back and looked at her in surprise. She didn't want him? He wondered if he'd ever get over his insecurity.

"Christian, one of the things that I read about was pleasuring you the way that you pleasure me. You know. You go between my legs and kiss me and suck on my skin and drive me wild. I think that I should do the same for you…go down between your legs and drive you wild…or, at least, try to. Would you mind?"

Would he mind? Lord love a duck. He'd never asked her for anything…fearful of her remembering her father and all the men who'd raped her and then retreating from him, the man who adored her now treating her like all of them had treated her. Of course, he'd received many a pleasurable sex act from all of Elena's girls but he'd never expected to experience any of those from Anastasia. And that was okay. He didn't miss it. He had the woman he adored and that was more than he'd ever had before.

"Anything that you want to give me, as long as you want to do it, I would be thrilled to accept, Anastasia…but only if you feel comfortable about it."

"Okay," she said as she pushed him onto his back. She quickly undid the button of his shirt and took a moment to admire his chest before she moved the shirt off his shoulders. She tossed it onto a chair and then began to undo his belt. Gosh, he wore so many uncomfortable things, she thought as she unzipped his pants and pulled them down his body. Oh, that beautiful V leading to his penis…she loved that V.

He was practically humming with the joy of being undressed by his wife when she lifted the band of his underwear and pulled it back, his cock bouncing out and almost hitting her in the face. She tugged his underwear down and threw them on the floor. She wasn't in a hurry, Grey knew. She was just kind of a slob. He didn't mind. He'd pick up everything later while she slept.

"All right. You're already hard." There was some disappointment in her voice. "I wanted to make you hard. Can you stop being hard?"

"Honey, you've just undressed me, and you know how easily aroused I am by you. I don't think that it's possible for you to ever catch me flaccid. I get hard in the car knowing I'm coming home to you."

"Okay then. We'll start from here. It's just that all the instructions showed how to get you hard first. Hey, suppose I bit you? Wouldn't that make you deflate?"

Christian laughed. "Oh, yeah, sweetie. I'd probably explode in your face."

"Oh, ugh. I don't think I'm ready for that although that is one of the things I read about."

She seemed to be thinking about a semen facial while Christian lay there aching. "Honey, my cock is starting to hurt from being so hard. I can't hold out much longer."

"I'll be right back," she smiled as she pulled on her robe and left the room. She walked into the hallway and then immediately turned and flattened herself against the wall, listening. Sure enough, within a minute she heard Christian cumming. Success!

Returning to the room, she slipped off her robe and smiled at the mess all over her husband's legs and stomach. He was breathing hard and looking at her, dazed. "You are sneaky, woman," he said. Nodding agreement, she cleaned him up and then began to use all the techniques that she'd studied.

It wasn't as easy as the drawing had shown it. Christian's cock was quite thick which felt wonderful inside her but required quite a bit of stretching to fit in her mouth. She'd also read that men liked their penises to be as far inside the woman's mouth as possible. She tried again and again to get Christian to the back of her throat but her gag reflect was too strong. All this time, she was paying no attention to Christian's reactions to all her ministrations.

He was grabbing the sheets, desperately trying to hang on all the while she was driving him mad. All the while that she thought she was failing, he was building to a blinding orgasm. He tried to warn her but his head was exploding and he couldn't speak.

As she was trying once again to get his penis to the back of her throat, he detonated…flooding her mouth and throat with semen. She swallowed as much as she could…not even thinking to note its taste…and then looked at him, startled as semen dribbled down her chin.

"I wasn't done, Christian!" she whined as he lay half-conscious and desperate for breath.

CHAPTER 94

After Anastasia had cleaned them both up, Christian was left floating on a post-orgasmic cloud of bliss while Anastasia lay next to him, arms crossed on her chest and feeling frustrated. She looked at her happy husband, his face the very picture of contentment, and sighed. Well, maybe next time she could do a better job. Practice makes perfect, one teacher had said to her. At the time, memorizing the capitals of all the states, practice did not seem worth the goal. Giving her husband the perfect blowjob…that was motivation.

It was work, to be sure. He was a big fella and sucking up and down his penis while also trying to get his tip to the back of her throat…well, she was kind of tired. Christian seemed to be drifting off so Anastasia let herself follow. It had been a memorable day already and sleeping away the rest of it seemed wise.

While their bosses were being very happy in their bedroom, the security team, the day team, was gathered in their office watching Jack Hyde in his apartment. He was gleefully going through his pictures on the camera, dozens of shots of Anastasia…his obsession.

The team agreed to a pool…when would Hyde start setting up a dark room in his apartment to begin developing those pictures?

"I'm kind of hoping that his trial keeps getting delayed," Baxter remarked. When the rest looked at him askance, he explained that Jack was really no work to keep track of and he was fun to watch. The rest considered this for a moment and then nodded.

"Do you think that he really has any kind of plan?" Stewart asked.

"Well," Ryan shrugged, "so far, it's been all about getting close to Mrs. Grey. There's been no indication that he's planned time enough to stomp her to death. He's never going to get near her."

"He'd probably rather snatch her and torture her, don't you think?"

"Again, he'd have to get close enough to grab her and there's no chance of that. Heck, between the paparazzi and us…" Ryan trailed off.

Taylor sat nearby at his desk, ostensibly reviewing the latest threats against Grey but thinking about ways that Jack could get to the missus. Taylor had a good imagination for evil-doing and he didn't like what he was coming up with.

CHAPTER 95

A few days later, one of the team that followed Hyde called in to tell Taylor that Hyde was doing something new. He was visiting an escort service. He was meeting with the owner, Mrs. Elena Lincoln, in her office. This was outside his usual routine but perhaps he was simply in need of a distraction?

There were, of course, other escort services in the city…all of them purporting to be legitimate and all licensed to provide dates for both sexes. Actually, there was slightly more call for male escorts than female. There were a lot of older widows who wanted to attend the opera or an important dinner party and going alone was embarrassing. They all seemed to think that they were fooling everyone…showing up with a stud decades younger. However, people understood…treated the women kindly and their male companion with respect…and had a wonderful time gossiping later.

The ordinance for this sort of business was strict about this service being a platonic one but, well, who was to know? And if a couple hit it off and wanted to be together, well that wasn't illegal. Certainly, everyone knew the story at Elena's Elite Escorts. She was pimping out beautiful girls. However, no one poked around in her business because they knew that her girls were safe…not just medically…but in no danger. Every male customer was thoroughly vetted and the girls all carried bear spray.

Which was why Jack Hyde patronizing this business was highly suspect. Mrs. Lincoln certainly knew of the charges against him and should have tossed him right out the door but instead she'd welcomed him into her back office.

"They're hatching something together," Taylor concluded. "And they have only one thing in common…a mutual loathing of Mrs. Grey."

He immediately alerted Carrick Grey, who'd finally gotten the DA to pin down a trial date…two weeks hence.

"Sir, this meeting does not bode well. Something big is going down and soon. The DA has got to get this guy behind bars now."

"I agree, Taylor," Carrick replied, his voice nervous with concern. "I'll speak with him right away and get back to you."

"A man goes into an escort service to get himself a girl. That won't fly with a judge, Carrick," the DA cautioned.

"Not just any escort service, Don. This stays between us. This is an escort service used by my son and Mrs. Lincoln has lost business since losing my son. She has recently accosted my daughter-in-law while out shopping. She hates the girl as much as Jack does.

"I'm sorry, Carrick. It just isn't enough. You know that I want this loon locked up as much as you but Judge Davis is quite particular about the law. He wants to take no chances that Hyde gets off on a technicality. Going to trial, Hyde's attorney could claim revoking his bail because he wants sex will prejudice any pool of jurors against him. He could conceivably get this trial moved to a venue outside of Seattle."

"Taylor, Carrick here. No luck. Just two weeks. Hang in there. Lock her up in a panic room. Anything…just keep her safe for two weeks."

"Sir, in this situation, we have two desperate men and I'm caught in the middle. I am certainly not looking forward to sitting down with desperate man #1 and explaining this situation. Yes, I will keep you in the loop."

CHAPTER 96

"How did Hyde even find out about my connection to Elena? Stupid question…she found him. Not that it matters any more but didn't anyone notice a phone call or a message delivered to Hyde from Elena? Find out and then fire the arsehole. Find a way to monitor Hyde's interactions with Elena.

Remarkably, Grey was not apoplectic as Taylor had expected. Of course, he'd just gotten up from a "nap" with his wife and he was always mellow after one of those.

"I'm going to have a word with Mrs. Lincoln myself. I'm certain that she'll lie to me about whatever she's doing with Hyde but maybe I can get a reading on her. I can also be sure that she understands the consequences of her actions. Mrs. Grey is still sleeping. I'll take Ryan with me."

Dressed in his most intimidating Armani, he drove down to Mrs. Lincoln's business in his Audi R8, $160,000 worth of F*** You. He roared up to a no parking space in front of her office and stepped out, coolly closing his door behind him, Ryan following a few paces behind.

As they wended their way toward Elena's office, their stride confident and certain, they paid no attention to the women staring at them, mouths agape. Christian was drop-dead gorgeous and, in person, was even more magnificent. He screamed money but it wouldn't have mattered if he'd walked through to read the gas meter. After he entered the boss's office without knocking, the first words out of the girl's mouths were "how, how does a human look so good?"

"Elena." Christian looked down at her as she studied her computer screen.

"Christian! Oh, how wonderful to see you! I just knew that you'd return someday and I have several wonderful women for you." The glee on her face had turned her wrinkled skin beet red. Combined with her yellow wig and excessive makeup, Elena had a clown-like appearance.

As she jumped up from her seat and rushed to air kiss Christian, Ryan took advantage of her inattention to discretely attach a tiny recording bug to her desk and another to the back of her computer monitor.

Grey stepped back and indicated that Mrs. Lincoln should sit. Then, with Ryan looming in a corner, he himself took a seat. It was apparent that Elena was nervous as Grey took his time getting to the point. His gaze was laser-focused on his nemesis, an intense look that never failed to unnerve his opponents.

"Mrs. Lincoln, you have a good business going here. I realize that the loss of my participation has perhaps lessened revenue somewhat but I also know that you are a clever woman who will only continue to build upon the foundation you established many years ago."

He stared. She felt compelled to say something. "Well, yes, losing your patronage was disappointing but only because we'd grown to be rather friendly over the years and I was sad to lose that connection. Revenue continues to grow. It's a growth industry."

Grey smiled coldly. "Good. Good. I am pleased to hear it. Still, as a fellow businessperson, I've come to know that any business is vulnerable. One must always be on guard to avoid complacency…don't you agree, Mrs. Lincoln?"

She nodded, gulping.

"I am on guard against my own hubris at all times. A slip-up could cost me and lead to bigger problems. Of course, I have my billions to cushion any falls. I realize that it's different for small businesses such as yours. You really can't afford to make even innocuous mistakes, mistakes that seem so insignificant at the time but that you, nonetheless, realize could ruin you if you overestimate your own ingenuity.

"I myself have an IQ a few points sort of Albert Einstein's but I try to never let my ego get in the way of protecting what is important to me. I'm sure that you understand. This business is your baby, isn't that right?"

Again, his smile was like ice. Elena nodded slowly. "Christian, you are so right. This business is all that I have. It is not only my livelihood but my family, in its way. These girls depend on me for their livelihoods as well. If I lost this because of some stupid mistake, it would be tragic for all of us," she said with fervor.

"Exactly. And what if that silly mistake, that little slip of good sense, was illegal in some way. I, for one, would hate to sit in a jail cell with nothing to do but fight off other inmates and ponder all I'd lost for the sake of ego or revenge or money. That's why I have an entire department of legal eagles to protect me from myself," he chuckled.

"Anyway, I don't have to lecture you about good business practices. You certainly know what you're doing. I really just stopped on my way to buy my wife a bit of jewelry. It's also an opportunity to express my sincere appreciation for all the years of service you provided me. You got me through some rough times, Elena. You got me through until I found true love and I thank you for it.

"I can't tell you how much I value Anastasia. Should I lose her, I think that I would go quite mad. I don't even like to think what I could do to anyone or anything that had a hand in taking my wife from me. I'm afraid that I am irreparably besotted."

"That's lovely to hear, Christian," Elena lied through gritted teeth. Christian shook her hand and nodded to Ryan. They strode out, once again leaving a front room full of drooling, dazed women…and a furious Mrs. Lincoln.

Did he think that she was obtuse? He'd come to warn her off…to promise unspeakable retribution should she do anything to harm his dopey wife. He knew about Jack Hyde's visit.

Elena felt around the edges of her desk. Yep. There it was…a bug. Boy, they really thought that she was stupid. She smashed the bug under foot like she was smashing Anastasia's face.

Well, she and Jack were smart, real smart and they could still find a way to do what was mutually beneficial for them…killing Anastasia.

CHAPTER 97

"Well, as you suspected she would, Mrs. Lincoln found the bug on her desk. However, as you also suspected, she did not think to look for another. So, we now have audio. You know, we could break in tonight and plant a couple of cameras," Stewart suggested to Taylor.

"Unless we hear anything odd, audio should be enough. Right now, she's probably thinking up a way to speak with Jack in code. This should get interesting.

"Ryan, you're back," Stewart said. "We could hear but what did you see?"

"A really rattled Mrs. Lincoln. Wow…he had her on the ropes. She was shaking, gulping, stumbling over her words, turning pale…visible even through all that makeup…totally discombobulated," Ryan grinned at the memory. "She knew that we knew. Did she find the bug?"

"Yep, first thing. I would have liked to have been in that room. The boss sounded chilling."

"That he was…he was. A master performance. Did it work? Probably not but she's been served. Did she call Hyde yet?"

"No," Taylor smirked. "We think that she's working out what to say and how to say it. Stay alert. Anything to report, Ryan?"

"Nothing noteworthy…except…when we were leaving, there was a police officer standing by the car, just looking at it. He had his ticket pad in hand when Grey walked up, smiling, and asked the guy if he wanted to sit behind the wheel, maybe take a spin around the block. You have never seen a cop so beside himself.

"He climbed in, started her up and revved the motor a few times. He looked like he'd died and gone to heaven. He was contemplating that "spin around the block" but thought better of it and got out of the car. He tried to look all stern and lectured Grey about parking in no parking zones and then he thanked him for the experience of a lifetime. Grey just laughed about it. No ticket, of course."

All the guys laughed. Taylor went off to consult with Grey and everyone else went back to work. Got real serious real fast.

"Sir?" Taylor knocked on the study door.

"Come in, Taylor. Close the door behind you. I don't want to take any chances that Anastasia hears us. I underestimate her all the time. I guess I'm just worried. It's nerve-racking knowing that a maniac wants to kill the person who makes your life worth living."

"Understood, sir. About that, sir. I would like to send a couple of men with Mrs. Jones when she goes down to Eddie's for groceries. Just in case."

"I thought that you were already doing that, Taylor. Don't forget. You are chief of security. You tell me what needs to be done. You don't even have to discuss it with me first. I depend on you and your expertise."

Taylor hid his smile. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate your confidence in me and my team. So, how did your convo with Mrs. Lincoln go. To your satisfaction, I hope?"

"Somewhat, Taylor. I know that she got the message. Whether she backs off is something else. She is an intelligent woman but being smart doesn't necessarily make you wise. I don't think Elena is wise. I think her pride will make her believe that she can work around anything in her way. However, I hope that I scared her enough to make her think about further involvement with Hyde."

There was a knock at the door. Ryan stepped in, looking serious.

CHAPTER 98

"You weren't five minutes out the door, Mr. Grey, when Mrs. Lincoln was on the phone…a burner phone…with Hyde. She didn't take your visit well. She's been raging at Hyde for a good 20 minutes about your gall…you thinking that she's stupid…that damn bug…where do you get off imagining that you're smarter than her…"

"I may have miscalculated, Taylor," Grey grimaced. "That hubris I thought I was on guard against?...looks like I wasn't, after all. Is there more Ryan?"

Ryan slid a thumb drive into the laptop on Grey's desk so that his boss could hear Elena's tirade from the top. Her language made Taylor, former military, cringe. She'd turned the F-word into a noun, verb, adjective and adverb. Even more, she'd turned into a weapon.

The gist of it was that she wanted Jack to eff' up effin' Grey's effin' little bride.

As Grey's eyes turned to black, Taylor reminded him that these tapes were obtained without a warrant and were, therefore, inadmissible in court.

"Dad…"

"Hello, Christian. Your wife's in the Nooz again."

"Dad, I want you to get a warrant, back-dated to today."

"Son, I'm an attorney, an officer of the court. I could get thrown into jail for making such a request."

"I want you to hear something, Dad." With that, Grey replayed the tape.

Carrick said nothing for some time. Then he told his son that he would speak with a judge and see if there were any way for this tape to be used against Lincoln and Hyde. No promises.

Having a bit of hope, Grey's eyes lightened and he sank deeper into his chair. Taylor signaled Ryan to return to his post.

"Sir, perhaps your father can use this tape in order to get a warrant, a legitimate warrant, which we can use to entrap Lincoln and Hyde. I don't think it would be much of a problem for you to push her into another tirade. We could even get a warrant to bug Hyde's place…all of it legal."

"We're got to do something, Taylor. Anastasia is so patient but I can't keep her cooped up in this penthouse."

Ryan walked back into the study without knocking. He was agitated.

"Sirs, Mrs. Grey is down at the park with Baxter. Hyde is preparing to leave his apartment. He's carrying a handgun."

"How…?" Taylor began.

"We checked out that place thoroughly. He must have gotten it from Lincoln."

Grey jumped up from his chair and ran for the elevator. Taylor opened his phone to call Baxter and tell him to get Mrs. Grey into the car.

"We walked down here, sir, after passing out the food. It's rush hour and the traffic is backed up. I'll get Mrs. Grey to someplace safe."

"We'll have to run, sir. Car won't get through. Lattner will get Hyde as he tries to leave his building."

"And what if he goes out the back entrance?" Grey snarled.

"Reynolds will get him. Try to be calm, sir. We don't want to alarm Mrs. Grey more than necessary."

CHAPTER 99

"Ah, Baxter, isn't it a lovely day? The air is so clean and fragrant here," Anastasia smiled.

"Yes, ma'am. We're lucky to have such a park so close to home. It's taken care of so well."

"It's a shame that other people don't have keys to the gate."

"Have to disagree with you there, Mrs. Grey. They'd make a mess of it in no time."

"You can't be sure of that, Baxter. Maybe they'd treasure it," she looked at Baxter hopefully. He gently smiled back at her. She had such faith in people. How did she do that, he wondered. He also wondered how he was going to get her to hide under the little concrete bridge up ahead.

"Hey," he laughed, "let's walk in the water." He quickly removed his socks and shoes and rolled up his pant legs. Anastasia gaped in astonishment. Baxter, light-hearted and whimsical? He walked into the stream and encouraged her to join him. Didn't take much and soon Anastasia had her sneakers tied around her neck as she joined him in the water.

As she was distracted by the pebbles on the creek bed and looking for frogs, Baxter's sharp eyes scanned the area. He should have asked what kind of gun Hyde was using. With a rifle, he wouldn't need to be close. With a handgun, maybe Baxter could see him.

"Hey, let's play trolls," he suggested to Mrs. Grey. It wasn't easy to run on the pebbles but he encouraged her to hurry. Trolls, he told her, needed to be under bridges. No time to lose. Anastasia was game. She was giggling and splashing the water with her feet.

Meanwhile, Grey and Taylor were dashing down the street as fast as possible although wingtips do not make for good running shoes.

Taylor wasn't as concerned as Grey. After all, Lattner or Reynolds would get Hyde before he made it off his block. Then his phone rang. It was Reynolds. He was gasping…trying to talk. Taylor couldn't make out what he was saying before the line went dead.

"911…what is your emergency?"

"Ambulance. Man shot. Alley behind Brewster Building." Taylor would call back. First things first. Thank god Grey was several yards ahead and was too distracted to hear.

"Baxter, my parents never told me any fairytales. Do you know any?"

Baxter had maneuvered Mrs. Grey to a large rock under the bridge up against the wall and had her sit down while he stood and surreptitiously kept watch for Hyde.

CHAPTER 100

Grey's lungs were bursting. The only exercise he'd been getting for some time was making love with his wife. He'd stopped his running routine every morning because he couldn't bear to let go of Anastasia's warm body. Still, desperation drove him on.

Taylor was just behind him, scanning the street, the roofs, the windows. He knew that alerting the SPD might scare Hyde off but, in truth, he wanted this opportunity to catch Hyde in the act.

Beneath the bridge, under the guise of remembering his story, Baxter paced back and forth…watching. He figured that with him being out in the open, he'd take a bullet but he was a pro and always prepared to be hurt or killed. It was the job.

He was making up a story on the spot and he had to admit to himself that it was pretty good. Anastasia was sitting on the edge of her rock, entranced by Baxter's story of a fairy princess who had somehow gotten lost as an infant and was taken in by fisherman and his wife. They were not good people and they did not treat her well. Anastasia didn't recognize the story as her own. She felt very bad for the little princess and couldn't wait for the part of the story where she would be rescued. Surely, she would be rescued, wouldn't she?

Baxter continued adding details to the story to keep Anastasia's attention. Between inventing a fairy tale and guarding Mrs. Grey from a deranged man, Baxter's brain was very busy.

Suddenly, he bounced back a bit as a bullet tore into his shoulder. Anastasia jumped to her feet and pulled Baxter down to the rock against the wall. She tore part of her shirt and made a pad to hold against the wound. The blood was soaking through and covering her hand so she tore some more material from her shirt. Finally, she removed her entire shirt and wrapped it several times around his shoulder and the blood seemed to slow.

She teased him that he'd better close his eyes because she was only wearing a bra and her husband would kill him. Baxter tried to laugh. Then Hyde appeared in front of them. Anastasia instinctively shielded Baxter.

"Aw…that's touching, bitch. That's two men who've taken bullets for you today. You just go around destroying lives, don't you?"

His face was heinous with hate. He would have been good-looking but his eyes were bloodshot and wild, his face was shabby with need of a shave and his body showed the effects of living on beer.

He motioned for Anastasia to come with him. He would put the next bullet in Baxter's heart if she refused. She didn't hesitate. She leaned over Baxter and kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly until Hyde yelled at her.

She walked out of the creek and Hyde grabbed her arm roughly. He pulled her along until they reached a bushy hedge. Dragging her through and scratching her face and arms, they reached a portion of the park fence that he'd cut through. All he had to do was push it out of the way. He didn't bother to put it back. It didn't matter anymore.

As he shoved her toward a dark, paneled van, she heard a voice calling to her. Christian!

"I'm here!" she called, resisting Hyde. "Go to the bridge. Baxter's hurt." Hyde slapped her hard, knocking her to her knees. He opened the doors of the van and tried to drag her across the pavement.

Christian and Taylor swiftly rounded the corner, just in time to see Hyde push Anastasia into the van.

"Anastasia!" Christian was frantic. Hyde had a gun to her head.

"Christian! I love you!" Hyde hit her head with the gun and slammed the panel doors shut.

"Shoot the tires, Taylor!" Christian ordered but Taylor didn't. As the van tore off down the street, Christian tried to grab for the gun but Taylor stopped him.

CHAPTER 101

Christian began to run after the van but it was hopeless. It disappeared around a corner.

He screamed at Taylor. "Why didn't you shoot out the tires?"

"Hyde would have felt trapped and he would have immediately killed Mrs. Grey." Taylor called the SPD and had them put out a search for the van…warning them to not approach.

"Come on," he said to Grey. "We have to find Baxter." Christian seemed to be in a trance…staring down the empty street.

Taylor put his arm around Grey, reassuring him that they'd get his wife back but Grey knew that she was already dead. Hyde wouldn't waste any time. He'd do terrible things to her and then kill her. Anastasia was gone. He would wait until someone found her body. He'd have a beautiful service for her and after her burial, he'd join her wherever she'd gone.

Baxter was unconscious when they found him but the bleeding had stopped. Together, Taylor and Grey helped him to his feet and carried him out of the park to a waiting ambulance.

Taylor made a call about Reynolds and was relieved to hear that his wound wasn't life-threatening either. The police had an APB out in force, looking for the dark van. It had been reported stolen earlier that morning.

"Looks like Hyde has been planning this for some time. He watched Mrs. Grey go into the park each day and choose a way to sneak her out the back. He's probably been working on that fence section for some time. He'd have had to be careful to cut away at it without being seen." The detective stood with Taylor in the penthouse, both of them looking at the broken man sitting like a statue on the coach.

"He gonna be all right?"

"Only if we get his wife back, detective. Any word yet on that APB?"

"Nothing. I assure you that we have almost every cop in the city out hunting for it. The guys like Grey. He's very generous with the SPD. We have off-duty cops all coming in. Even a few retirees going door to door. We figure that he's got the van inside some place by now. Wouldn't take a chance on leaving it on the street, a course. The kidnapping is all over the news and a fat reward is real motivating. We'll find it, Taylor."

Taylor simply nodded. Mrs. Jones was seeing to it that there was plenty of fresh coffee for everyone. She had even taken it upon herself to go through Grey's rolodex to find phone numbers for Reynolds and Baxter. She informed the families and gently assured them that their boy was going to be fine. She even called Andrea to make arrangements for the GEH jet to pick up anyone who wanted to come to Seattle.

"I've reserved several rooms at the Fairmont, Jason. I do hope that I haven't overstepped. I just tried to do what Mr. Grey would do if he could." Tears began to fall and Taylor put his arms around Bonnie.

"You did everything perfectly. I'm certain that Mr. Grey would approve of you taking the initiative. He isn't capable of doing anything right now. I think that he's given up."

"He won't eat or drink, Jason. I'm so scared for him. We can't leave him alone for a moment…especially if the worst comes to pass. I'm going to lock the balcony door while I think of it."

But Grey wasn't going to jump. No, he had to see Anastasia one more time. His only hope now was that Hyde wouldn't destroy her body. One last look, please…just one last look.

CHAPTER 102

The blow that Hyde had struck with his pistol had not completely knocked out Anastasia but her vision was out of focus and she was too woozy to move. Hyde thought that she was unconscious so he went about his work unaware that she could hear and see somewhat.

Where had he taken her, she wondered. Someplace lacking natural light. She was underground, she figured. A memory seized her…another man who'd dragged her into a cellar where he could rape her without interruption. That man had kept her prisoner for several days. When he didn't return one day, Anastasia had crawled through the darkness, feeling her way, to understand the layout of her jail. She bumped into some stairs and climbing them, she bumped her head against a door.

She had to take her chance. He'd told her that if she made a sound, he'd know and he'd tear out her fingernails with some pliers as punishment. He'd left a bucket next to her and told her that this was her bathroom now. Then everyday he told her that she was dirty and smelly and disgusting. She wasn't bothered by his insults. She'd heard them all her life and accepted her condition.

But now, the man hadn't been by and she was very hungry. The plastic straps around her wrists were cutting into her and her arms ached from being pulled behind her back for so long. So, she took her chance.

She pushed hard against the door and to her amazement, it fell open and she collapsed unto a kitchen floor. There was no one there. She found a knife on the counter and managed to cut the straps. Oh, the relief of being able to move her arms. She stretched and massaged her shoulders until the feeling returned.

She turned on the faucet and discovered that there was water. This surprised her because the house appeared to be empty. It looked as though someone was squatting there. Anastasia had one thought. You might think that it was to get away but she'd been raped repeatedly and the first thought in a victim's mind is to wash and wash and wash.

Taking the knife with her, she went through the house until she found a bathroom. It had a shower. She climbed in fully clothed and scrubbed and scrubbed. Rinsing out her clothes, she spent more time rubbing furiously at her skin in a futile effort to get clean of the man.

Finally, she donned her damp clothes, picked up the knife and waited. When the man came back, she was going to kill him…but he never returned.

He'd left a bag with clothes, cigarettes, cans of beer and even a battered wallet containing a driver's license and some cash. Anastasia took his warm coat and his money and walked out the door, the knife in the pocket.

She didn't call the police. She didn't hand over his license. She'd no expectation of justice. That someone might care or help never occurred to her. That wasn't the way in her life. She buried the trauma deep inside with all the other traumas. She went on.

CHAPTER 103

And now she was once again a prisoner of a man who would hurt her and rape her and tell her that she was nothing. This time, however, was different. She was different. She knew that she was beautiful to Christian and Christian loved her scent. She quietly groaned thinking of his face buried in her neck and his arms tight around her back.

As her vision cleared, she watched Hyde making preparations of some sort at the work bench. His tools, all sharp, were meant for her, she knew. He'd made plans. His intentions were clear. He was going to torture her, rape her and leave a bloody corpse for Christian Grey to howl in pain over.

Oh, he knew that he'd be caught at some point. Grey's goons would follow him to the ends of the earth. If they didn't outright kill him, Grey would ensure that he spent the rest of his life in a maximum-security prison, being raped in the shower as the guards looked the other way. He didn't have the courage to end his own life but he'd survive by playing this wonderful time with Anastasia over and over in his head. Even just preparing for his fun with her today gave him more joy that he'd ever known. Actually, he thought, he'd never felt joy in his entire life but now, at last, he knew the feeling.

He'd shown them all…all those highly trained, ex-military hotshots who thought that he couldn't get to Grey's girl. But he did…spectacularly, he thought. He'd taken out two of Grey's men. Then, right in front of Grey and his favorite soldier, he'd taken the girl! Right in front of them! He stood at the bench, laughing, near hysterical with the thrill of his accomplishment.

And now, the best part, he would have Grey's wife…as many times and in any way he wanted for as long as he wanted. And when he was sated and bored, he'd play with her body with all the tools he'd acquired. He'd thought of all the things that he could do to her, the pain he could make her feel. She might even come to understand the pain she'd made him feel. If she hadn't gotten in his way that day, he would have simply gone home and gotten drunk. He'd still have a great job with one of the top companies in the world. His father would still think that his son had done well for himself. He'd have his luxury apartment and maybe more as the years went by. But, no, as he'd stepped out the door, a tiny bit of nothing had stood in his way and he'd lost his temper. It didn't occur to him that he could have controlled his temper…no…this girl had pushed him over the edge and then Grey had made certain that Hyde would pay dearly for messing with his new toy.

And now, that shiny new toy was lying on the concrete floor, unconscious. She was a little less shiny. Her shirt was gone and she was bloody…he wasn't sure from what but it didn't matter. By the time he was done with her, she would be nothing but a mess of tissue and blood. Grey wouldn't even be able to recognize her.

Maybe, Hyde thought, he'd cut off Anastasia's ring finger. He'd keep that expensive engagement ring to finance his flight but he'd mail the rest to Grey. The picture in his mind of Grey's face when opening the box got Hyde to laughing again. He sounded like a deranged hyena.

He walked over to a groggy but conscious Anastasia. This was good. She wouldn't be able to fight back but she would be awake enough to know what he was doing to her, to feel the pain.

Time for the fun to begin.

CHAPTER 104

Christian wasn't alone. His family had been informed by the local news and had rushed to rally around their son, their brother.

Taylor had his men out searching. The detective had left with his men to do likewise. Elena Lincoln had been taken into custody, loudly proclaiming her innocence. A judge, having listened to the tapes of her "conversation" with Jack Hyde, had decided that she was a danger to others. Of course, her lawyer would have the tapes dismissed but, in the meantime, Elena was enjoying the housing offered by the SPD.

In an attempt to curry favor, she admitted to "loaning" a gun to Jack Hyde. He'd told her, she lied, that he was in fear for his life. When told that that discussion was not on the tapes, she simply shrugged.

The Glock was not registered to her either so the charges against her were adding up. In an attempt to embarrass the Grey's, Lincoln instructed her lawyer to get her an interview with the Seattle Nooz. She exposed Grey's past association with her…making it sound as though he had pressured her to offer him more than the usual escort services. He had turned her innocent young women into prostitutes.

The morning papers were ugly and salacious in their content about not only Christian but all his relations.

The family paid little attention. Their focus was only on Christian. He seemed to be fading away, day by day. He didn't communicate. He ate and drank only if forced. He'd already given up. The depression that had ruled his life had come for him again and the happiness he'd found was easily crushed by his old foe.

The family had his former psychologist come to talk with him…to no avail…and so he simply sedated him. Sleep would help to keep him alive, Dr. Flynn told his family. It would give his body time to fight the depression, to be unaware for a while of his loss.

While he slept, his family stayed. They hadn't been in Escala more than a couple of times in all the years Christian had lived there. They wandered around, trying to understand him more by studying his home.

As they explored, they realized that it was now truly a home because of his wife. There were pictures on the walls of scenes from nature. That would be Anastasia. There were pictures of Christian and his wife, sitting on a bench on his sailboat, beaming at the camera held by Mac. This one image held the family's attention for some time. Christian looked so incredibly happy…something they'd never known him to be.

In his study, they found more pictures…all of Anastasia.

"Look at this, mom," Elliot called out. "This seems to be an ordinary picture frame but the pictures change every few seconds and they're all of Anastasia." The family gathered round and watched as image after image flashed by.

"I wish you'd met her. At least I had that," Grace sighed. "She was shy but as we spent time together, she opened up a bit. She really did shine from within and after a while, I began to see the beauty that Christian saw."

Grace began to sob. The outcome of this kidnapping would not be good. This, everyone believed. They, in fact, believed that Anastasia was already gone. They could only hope that her death had come quickly. It wasn't fair. She didn't deserve this.

"It's hard to believe in an almighty beneficent being when someone like Anastasia had to live such a terrible life…and…just when she found love and a home…," Mia trailed off, unable to find any more words to convey her sorrow and anger.

"At least," Elliot said, "she found happiness with Christian for a time. Dad, what are we going to do for Christian? How are we going to save him after they find Anastasia?"

Carrick, who'd aged years in the past few days, simply shook his head in defeat. They would have to rally somehow but he knew, in his sad heart, that without Anastasia to love him, Christian would simply disappear a little more each day.

CHAPTER 105

Anastasia forced herself to sit up and smile at Jack. This confused him. He stepped back.

"So, you're Jack…the man who nearly killed me and, inadvertently, introduced me to my husband. I should thank you for that."

Her voice was weak and a bit slurred but he was affected by her bright smile.

"You were the man in the tent…the one I gave food to along with the others. I wondered who that shy person was. I'd like to know more about you. Will you talk with me?"

Jack was flabbergasted. He'd just kidnapped this woman and hit her with his gun and she wanted to have a pleasant conversation. She must be brain damaged.

"What do you want to know?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, what is your middle name? I don't have one. I wouldn't have a first name if the nurse at the hospital hadn't named me."

Jack looked flummoxed. "Why wouldn't your parents give you a name?"

"I wasn't important enough. I was just an accident of nature, my mother called me. She and my daddy always called me "girl". It wasn't until I started kindergarten that I learned my name."

Jack stared at her. Was she trying to induce sympathy in him? Well, it wouldn't work but it might be fun to make her feel safe and then slash her face.

"My middle name is Howard. My full name is Jackson Howard Hyde the VIII."

"Wow. That's a pretty fancy name. You can trace your family back a long way, eh? Are your parents still alive?"

"My father and step-mother live in Portugal but I don't have grandparents or siblings…just them. I don't see them."

Anastasia giggled. "If I could see Portugal…. Mine live up north…last time I knew."

"You don't keep in touch with them?"

"As soon as I could, I left town. No, I don't think that I'll ever see them again. Do you have anything here to eat? I'm really hungry."

Jack didn't know why but this concerned him so he opened his duffel bag and offered Anastasia a sandwich. She thanked him heartily so he gave her a bottle of water as well.

Anastasia asked a lot of questions…about Jack himself and what he thought about different things. No one had ever talked much to Jack like this so he kept putting off raping the girl. She was funny, too, and she even laughed at things that he said. He found himself trying to be funny.

He didn't notice the time passing until he realized that he was getting sleeping. The girl said that her head hurt real bad and then she passed out. He stared at her. All right. He'd rest. The door was locked and the keys were in his pocket. If she tried to take them, he'd know and he'd wake up and make her sorry.

CHAPTER 105

Five days. Nothing. People wanting the million-dollar reward would call the police with the flimsiest of clues…none worth anything.

"How is it that no one saw something?" Carrick asked Taylor. A shake of the head. No answer. Carrick was the only person with whom Taylor could be real. He didn't have to hide his own despair. With everyone else, he was stoic and stern…busy every minute chasing down leads. With everyone else, he pretended that there was still hope. His own security team, when losing heart, would look to Taylor for certainty that it was just a matter of time.

Carrick reached out a hand to squeeze Taylor's shoulder. "You're doing everything you can, Jason."

Taylor felt a failure. He'd let everyone down, destroyed a man, left a frail young woman open to the horrors promised to her by a very sick, dangerous man. Her death was on his hands, he believed. When…if…Anastasia was found, he would tender his resignation. In truth, he didn't believe that his services would be required any longer anyway. Grey would not survive this.

The family had moved into Escala. Grace and Mia cuddled together on the sofa. Elliot sat next to his father with his arm around the back of the couch. They did what they could for each other. Christian didn't come out of his room.

Mrs. Jones kept making food. She would take Grey's favorites into his room and feed him bits like a child. Grey would chew unaware and sip the water she held to his lips. Dr. Flynn would sedate him again.

And so, the time went by. Deep underground, Jack put off torturing the girl because he liked having conversations with her. He'd never had talks with anyone that he could recall…except about work. He told Anastasia all about his job at GEH and she sympathized with the pressure he'd been under. She said that she could understand why he lashed out. She told him about times that she'd lost her temper. She'd gone crazy, she said, and couldn't seem to control her anger.

She didn't mention that being kidnapped and held prisoner underground was one of those times.

"Jack, what are you going to do with me?" Her voice was almost angry and he didn't like it.

"You ruined my life…you and that asshole husband of yours. You want to put me in jail while you live in a penthouse. Your whole life is going to be roses…was going to be roses. Grey has to pay for what he's done to me and so do you."

Anastasia nodded. Jack was being honest with her. The end of this misadventure was inevitable. She was going to have to accept it. It wouldn't be easy but at least it would finally be all over with.

At Escala, Christian awoke suddenly. He reached for Anastasia next to him. Her spot was cold. Maybe she'd been up a while. No, she wouldn't leave him. She promised. Anxiety filled his chest, flooded his brain. She'd left him.

The family was surprised to see Christian walk into the great room, dressed. His face was gray. He'd come out to announce that he wanted to begin honoring his deceased wife. He knew, he said, that if and when her body was found, it would not be viewable. He couldn't wait, he said. Anastasia deserved a memorial service now…something grand. His family nodded as one. The elevator pinged.

CHAPTER 106

Anastasia walked slowly and with great effort into the room. She was covered in blood, wearing only a bra and a pair of panties. It was clear that she was injured…cuts, a black eye swollen shut, her legs slashed. She was carrying a knife, dripping blood.

The shock was such that no one reacted. The knife slipped from her hand onto the marbled floor.

The clang of the metal hitting the stone jarred everyone out of their shock and the room came alive.

"Get an ambulance to Escala, penthouse, asap."

"Mrs. Jones, get some bath towels and some Ibuprofen."

"Anastasia, Anastasia…"

Only one person was silent. He stared, breathing hard. He walked slowly to her, removing his jacket as he did so. When he reached her, he put the jacket around her shoulders. He looked at her, reaching up to smooth her hair. He put a hand on her cheek and looked into the blue eye looking into his. Neither noticed the frantic activity around them. Grace was insisting that she examine Anastasia. Taylor was shouting orders about something. They couldn't hear any of it.

Christian pulled the jacket close around Anastasia and softly asked if he would hurt her if he held her. She smiled, two teeth missing from her beautiful new mouth, and said "Please".

He wrapped himself completely around her while she returned his embrace with aching arms. Together, they broke down. Christian's sobs were heartbreaking to hear…his entire soul bared. He howled as Jack had hoped he would but they were howls of a different kind. Anastasia simply repeated over and over that she loved him.

The family stood in a tightly bound circle…crushing Grace in the middle but she didn't mind. Members of the security team who were not in the field stood around, frozen in place, almost disbelieving. Mrs. Grey was not a rotting corpse tossed aside by Jack Hyde when he finished with her. Without a word to each other, they suspected that it was Jack who was now the rotting corpse. How? How? The word flew from man to man almost telepathically.

Anastasia's trembling legs began to crumble. Grey instantly felt it and reached an arm under her knee to pick her up and hold her near like a child. She curled into his chest and cried softly as he cradled her and whispered to her.

The elevator pinged again and EMTs rushed in with a gurney. Grey very reluctantly lowered Anastasia down while she continued clinging to him.

"Don't let him take me again, Christian," she pleaded.

"It's all right, darling. We're going to the hospital and I'll be right with you." He took her hand and walked into the elevator with the EMTs.

CHAPTER 107

The family stood waiting for the elevator to return. It would be crammed with them and Mrs. Jones and several security who would follow the Greys to the hospital. As yet, no had spoken. Mia held onto Elliot and Carrick enveloped Grace, gently caressing her arm. Sawyer and Ryan left the penthouse empty. There would be no one there to protect anyway and they didn't even ask Taylor for instructions. He was with Grey as usual and concerned only for Mrs. Grey's health.

He'd begun to think again…to think about what Anastasia might have been through in the last week. So much blood…and how much of it was hers? She appeared to have been in a battle to the death. How did she get back to Escala? Did no one see her and rush to help? She was a small woman, covered in blood, barely able to walk and no one stopped her? Her appearance was, indeed, frightening. Maybe people thought that she was just another of the crazy addicted homeless. Then, too, she was carrying a knife.

How far had she walked? How the hell had she defended herself, gotten away and found her way back to Escala in a city she barely knew?!

He'd called the SPD and asked Detective Parks to meet him at the hospital. He would talk to Parks. Parks would not speak with the family or Grey until Taylor gave the okay. Security members were following in several cars although Taylor had a hunch that there was no longer a threat…at least not today. Besides, they wanted to check on Baxter and Reynolds who were doing well and soon to be released. With the hunt on for Hyde and Mrs. Grey, no one had time for sleep much less visiting their comrades in the hospital.

Word had gotten out, of course. Paparazzi were sensitive to the slightest tremor in the gossip world and by the time that the ambulance reached the ER, the horde was ten deep. It wasn't just the locals, either. Every day since Mrs. Grey's dramatic abduction, reporters had been surging into Seattle from all over the world. The cumbersome vans with satellite dishes on their roofs had crowded the streets around Escala and now they were doing the same with the hospital complex.

There was the usual yelling, bulbs flashing, shoving and competing for a better angle. Even after the Greys had disappeared into the building, it continued. Normally, all this chaos would have worn at Taylor's last nerve but today he seemed not to hear it. When the paps called out his name, there was no reaction. Usually, one of the team would have acted as spokesperson but today was different. The paps muttered among themselves.

They had seen the crazy, half-naked, bloody, knife-carrying woman stumble up the street and pass by Charlie, the lobby guard, without a word as Charlie stood dumbstruck. How was it that this homeless druggie knew the elevator code? And then, an ambulance arrived and after, a caravan of Grey Mercedes poured out of the garage.

Possible explanations, many of them wild and ridiculous, wove through the crowd and the demands for news became more shrill…more frenzied.

Mrs. Grey had been kidnapped almost a week ago by a maniac who'd sworn to kill her. Since then, Grey had not spoken. There were no news briefings from the cops either. The new hounds suspected that she was dead. Was this body on the gurney Mrs. Grey? Was she soon to be autopsied? Could they get someone working the morgue to take a photograph? That would be worth a lot of money.

The police were blocking the entrances. No one was allowed into the hospital without verification of their need to be there. The paps argued about who would agree to be "injured" in order to get in.

The police barricade parted as the doors opened and Detective Parks stepped out to address the news media. His expression was solemn. This was it. The confirmation that everyone had been waiting for…holding their breath.

CHAPTER 108

Christian was still holding Anastasia's hand as the doctor tried to examine her. He ordered, then pleaded, with Mr. Grey to step aside but the man appeared to not hear him. His wife was holding on just as tightly to her husband's hand. Finally, the doctor sedated Anastasia and her hand went limp in Christian's.

"Anastasia!" he cried out, thinking that he was losing her but the doctor reassured him she was just asleep.

"She is probably in considerable pain. Also, we have to clean her up and get x-rays and an MRI to check for internal injuries. I know that you've been through a terrible ordeal but I'm going to have to ask you to be brave and patient a while longer. Just as soon as we've completed our examination, we'll call you back in."

As Grey was leaving the room, the doctor told a nurse to check his vitals. He looked like hell.

Grey was escorted to a private room where his family was waiting for word. He was also greeted by Detective Parks who'd been interviewing everyone. One look at Grey and Parks figured that he wasn't going to get much out of him.

"Mr. Grey, I'd like to ask you some questions but I think I'll wait until you've had some time to recover. I know that it's been a hellava week for you. How is your wife doing right now?"

Grey hesitated. He was in shock himself and a nurse was taking his blood pressure of which he seemed to be unaware. He looked at Parks, blinked a few times and then noticed his family in the room. He smiled slightly.

"Anastasia held my hand real tight…strong. Then the doctor sedated her…for the pain. He's going to examine her…tests and all. He said that he'll get back to me as soon as possible.

"Detective Parks, I don't know any more than my family and my security chief. Your guys and my team have been hunting for days without luck so I guess we'll have to wait for Anastasia to tell us more…and I don't know when she'll be able to do that. She's clearly been traumatized and may not be able to remember much."

"Right now," Parks said, "I've got cops trying to retrace her steps, following the blood trail she left on her way to Escala. It can't be far because, well, look at her. How could she have come far in her condition?"

Christian grinned. "You don't know my wife, Detective. She could do anything."

Detective Parks smiled and patted Grey's back. He didn't have much to tell the commissioner but the old goat would just have to wait.

"Greys, thank you for your help. I'm going to go out to talk to the media now," he grimaced. "That's why they pay me the big bucks."

The Greys simply nodded and then surrounded Christian. They were silent. They would wait until he spoke…when he could speak.

CHAPTER 109

Carrick and Grace were slumped together on the couch. Mia was curled up on a chair and Elliot had claimed the entirety of the other couch.

"Chris, you're wearing a trench in that floor. Try to sit down and relax. The nurse said that your blood pressure is high and so is your pulse. You wanna have a heart attack before Anastasia wakes up?"

Christian stopped and then walked to his brother, knocking his feet off the couch and sinking into a cushion. He rubbed his hands all over his face and then tore at his hair. Elliot reached over and took his hands down.

"I sure can't wait to meet this girl, Chris. This maniac holds her for five days and then she just walks in the door, clearly the victor. I mean, wow. I could barely pick my jaw up off the floor."

Mia joined in to distract her brother. "I know that you said that she's beautiful, Chrissy, so I can't wait to see what's under all that blood. That must have been some battle. I hope she can remember everything. Mom said she might not."

Christian just stared at the floor. He would not be all right for some time but he wouldn't be anything at all under he held Anastasia again.

The door opened and in walked Baxter…one arm in a sling and the other toting a large picnic basket. He grinned at everyone.

"Mrs. Jones didn't think you'd go down to the cafeteria unless it was right next to Mrs. Grey's room so she sent this."

Baxter's presence roused Grey a bit. "Are you okay to be working?"

"I'm not working. I'm delivering food. There's not much to do at Escala since you're all here. Taylor's here commanding the troops. We kinda think that Mrs. Grey took care of Hyde but Taylor isn't taking any chances. Most the SPD is still out looking.

"The police took my knife. I hope I get it back. It was a birthday present from my grandfather when I was ten."

"Your knife?" Grey looked startled. "Are you saying that that knife that my wife walked in with was yours? Why did Anastasia have your knife?"

"I always carried it in a leather pouch under my jacket. When we'd go to the park, I showed Mrs. Grey how to hold it, to throw it. She got really good at trees...right in the mark I'd make in the bark. She never missed the bulls eye.

"I know it wasn't quite right but I didn't stop her when she carved a heart in a tree and then A + C."

"How did she…I mean, she had your knife when she came home?"

"After Hyde shot me, she said that she'd go quietly if he let her say goodbye to me. She leaned over and hugged me, pulling out my knife at the same time. She told me not to worry. She'd be back."

Grey was turning red. "Why the hell didn't you tell anybody this?"

"Well, sir, I must have passed out from blood loss and when I woke up here, in the hospital, I was really confused. Couldn't remember anything. It slowly started coming back yesterday when I was released and Reynolds told me that he'd heard that Mrs. Grey was back. I didn't really think about the knife until just now. Sorry, sir. I do remember lying in that bed and wanting to tell you that you shouldn't worry because your wife has moxie…big moxie…but then I'd pass out again and forget."

"Moxie…boy, I can't wait to meet this girl," Mia grinned. "I don't think I've ever met a girl with moxie."

CHAPTER 110

The hours dragged. Most people in the room managed to eat something from the basket but Christian refused. The nurse returned and took his vitals again, clucking once more that he'd be the next one admitted if he didn't relax. Grace, worried, handed him a sandwich and insisted he eat it. Carrick told him to do as his mother said. Grey ate.

Elliot managed to get a bottle of water in him. He really did look a little better after some sustenance.

A doctor who'd done the CT scan appeared in the doorway and smiled at everyone. A mild concussion but no fractures or any damage to Mrs. Grey's head. Still waiting on MRI results. Radiology was backed up so it might be a while until the x-rays were read.

Everyone took a deep breath. Just a mild concussion. Good news. Grey's heart lightened a little. He wanted so badly to see his wife. When could he see his wife? Soon, the doctor said.

"Oh, she has more visitors coming in. She sure has a lot of devoted family. Lucky girl."

As he departed, a middle-aged couple who looked much older, walked into the room. They were cleanly dressed but their clothes were old and rather shabby. The man's face was grizzled and gaunt. The woman's hands were shaking and she was wearing a lot of makeup. They said nothing….looking around the room for a place to sit.

Without speaking, Christian and Elliot got up and moved over to squeeze onto the couch with Grace and Carrick.

The hospital administrators had given them this private room so they didn't understand why this couple was invading their space but they were too polite to ask. Conversation had ceased and Christian went back to staring at the floor.

After a bit, Elliot whispered to his father that he could smell booze and cigarettes on the old guy. Carrick shrugged. He kissed Grace's cheek and then went out into the hall.

He was gone for a few minutes. He returned a little grayer than when he left. He made a gesture to Christian to come with him.

"What is it, Dad? Did the doctor say anything?"

"I asked the front desk receptionist if she knew who that couple was or why they were in our room."

Carrick took a deep breath and put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Christian, those people are Anastasia's parents." He continued holding tight to Christian's shoulder to keep him in place.

"What the fuck are they doing here?" Christian's whisper was a roar.

"They identified themselves to the receptionist and said that they'd learned about their daughter's kidnapping on the news. They drove a long way to get here. She checked the guy's license and they showed her a picture of Anastasia posing with them so she thought it was okay to send them in. She couldn't have known the type of relationship they have."

"Anastasia will not want to see them. I've got to get rid of them. I don't want her upset. I really want to kill those bastards after the hell they put her through."

"I understand, son, but Anastasia has a right to know that they're here and refuse to see them on her own. She might resent you handling her problems for her. At least, tell her."

"She hates them, Dad. Her mother beat her, her father molested her, she had to hide in the woods! I'm going to confront them, tell them off and kick them out."

Before Carrick could stop him, Christian stalked back into the room. He stood before the couple and glared down at them. They simply looked at him. Then they spoke before he could.

"I know you from the papers. Yer that millionaire boy. Yer real famous." The man looked at the woman and she nodded.

"Yeah, Ray here says that yer on the news all the time on the TV down at the bar. Yer sure a looker. Money and a pretty face," the woman cackled. "Whadda ya doing with my daughter anyway? Didja really marry her?"

Christian fists hung stiffly at his sides. Restraint was not his usual way of dealing with undesirables but this was a whole new situation.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" He was certain that he already knew the answer.

"Well, we ain't seen hide nor hair of 'Stasia in a few years now. She just up and left without a word. No letters. No calls. We was kinda wonderin' why she went and what she was doing. We figured that she was probably making a living on her back 'cause that's the kinda gal she is but we sure didn't figure she was givin' it to a famous guy with money."

Christian grabbed the scrawny man by the neck and lifted him from the couch with one hand. He was rearing back to slug the guy in his beer belly when Elliot stopped him.

He threw the man back down onto the couch. The wife looked shocked. "You okay, Ray?"

Ray rubbed his neck and nodded. "Well, that weren't called fer. Don't know why ya got all upset."

"You called my wife a whore!" Christian yelled at the man.

"Well, she didn't have no skills…couldn't do a damn thing ta support herself. Just figured she was makin' a livin' the way most of the girls in Montesano do. I didn't mean no harm." He actually looked surprised and sorry.

Christian couldn't wait to hold Anastasia again and tell her over and over that she was beautiful and brave and remarkable and that he loved her more than life itself. What were these people? These couldn't be parents.

"Anastasia is a wonderful woman, a true marvel of a human being. She must have been born that way because there is nothing of you in her. Now, she is going to recover. She has family," he pointed out, waving his hand around the room, "real family and she doesn't need the likes of you. You can feel free to leave at any time."

Carrick shook his head. Apparently, his little speech hadn't made a dent.

"Nope. Think that we'll be stickin' around fer a while. We wanna see our little girl." The man had a mean look about him.

"That will depend on my wife's wishes. If she doesn't want to see you, you'll leave quietly or I'll have my security team see you out."

The woman stuck her chin out in defiance. She waved a finger at Grey. Her hands were having a full-on tremor…Parkinson's maybe? Grey wondered. Anastasia had mentioned pills. Maybe she wasn't an addict.

"I birthed that child and she owes me. She'll see me or else."

CHAPTER 111

The family watched in wonder as Christian came alive. He'd been almost a zombie since Anastasia's disappearance but these awful parents of Anastasia had riled him so that they began seeing signs of the old Christian. They didn't know if this was a good thing.

Grey continued asking questions and arguing with the couple. Their responses were more and more preposterous. They proclaimed themselves to be the best of parents who gave their daughter every advantage.

"Advantage?!" he screamed at them. "Was molesting your little girl giving her an advantage?" Grey was turning purple.

"Well, yeah. Most girls go out into the world knowin' nothin' about sex. I prepared 'Stasia. She wasn't innocent and helpless."

"I can't believe that you think raping your daughter was helpful. You committed a crime! You violated your own child and abused her trust!"

"I don't like the way yer talkin' ta my husband. I don't care if you are 'Stasia's husband. She was our daughter first so we got first claim on her and everything she has," the missus yelled at Grey.

"Now we've reached the point of your visit here. You don't give a damn about Anastasia and you never have. You found out that she married a billionaire and you're here to cash in."

Both parental units stopped and stared at Grey as if he was mentally challenged. They turned to each other and muttered and then nodded.

"Look, boy," Mr. Steele began in a voice you would use to calm a hostile animal, "our daughter has a lot of money now. Since she's our daughter and we raised her, she owes us. That's how it works. We gave her life, took care a her until she was growed and now she has ta pay us back. We expected her ta start working after she finished school but she up and left us. We ain't been doin' well. Her mama's sick…got the tremors. I ain't doing so good myself. I can't keep workin' much longer. So 'Stasia's gotta come home and help out for a change or she's got ta send money."

They looked at Grace and Carrick. "Ain't that right? You raised your kids and now it's their turn to take care a you? I bet your rich boy here sees that youse guys are all set, eh?"

Grace and Carrick were torn between repulsion and laughter. Grace, knowing Anastasia, couldn't conceive of a way that she could be related to these horrible people. Carrick texted Taylor.

Need you to relieve us of the company of the Steeles

The Steeles?

Yes, those Steeles. Christian is homicidal.

Coming, sir.

As Christian loomed menacingly over the unrepentant Steeles, Taylor arrived with three of his team and joined the boss in looming over the Steeles. And, yet, still the Steeles did not comprehend their peril. Armed with their ignorance and unfounded conviction of their own truth, they were without fear.

"You can't do anything ta us," Ray sneered at Taylor, "our daughter is married ta a real rich guy and she's gonna take care a us now."

CHAPTER 112

As much as Grey hated the Steeles, Anastasia's parents were weaponized with greed and stupidity. They had everyone stumped. Knowing what they'd done to Anastasia, Grey was chomping at the bit…wanting to smash them both into bloody stumps. Taylor was holding him back.

"Sir, consider this. The only person who somewhat understands these doofeses…doofi?...whatever they are, is your wife. Perhaps she would enjoy the opportunity to kick them out. They're so confident that they've brainwashed her into giving them whatever they want…just like they made that little girl do years back…Mrs. Grey can have the satisfaction of crushing their little black souls."

"It isn't enough, Taylor. He raped her and congratulated himself on educating her about sex. The mother beat her and made her go to school with bruises and cuts. She wore rags."

"And it's too late to make them pay. So all Mrs. Grey can do is tell them to go to hell. Let her."

The next hour in the small room with the Greys and the Steeles was agony. Ray and Carla never stopped talking…rambling on about their idyllic life in their cabin in the woods and all the fun that 'Stasia had growing up there.

Elliot and Mia sat in their chairs, snickering at the hilarious ridiculousness of the Steeles. Their raging lack of self-awareness, their joyful arrogance… The Greys had always presumed that evil people had some idea that they were, indeed, evil. Surely, they thought, when someone does a vile thing, they know that it's vile.

This was a revelation for the Greys. Evil people believe that they're just average folk. As they listened to the Steeles run on and on, they realized that everyone thinks that they are basically good people who are now and again driven to do bad things.

Jack Hyde probably thought that he was a good guy, a victim of greater forces, defending himself.

Christian turned to his father. "Dad, this man was a violent abuser of a child. Tell me that there is something we can do. I can't believe that I'm just sitting here, helpless."

"Even if Anastasia were willing to go through a legal confrontation with this sperm donor, he'd only lie and the egg donor would back him up. Public exposure would mean nothing to these two. They're obviously impervious to shame. The best we can do is burst their bubble. They seem to honestly think that Anastasia is going to share her wealth with them…that they deserve it. It's astonishing. These two have been divorced from reality for a very long time."

CHAPTER 113

"Mr. Grey? Would you come with me, please? The doctor would like to speak with you and your wife." To her credit, the nurse was not drooling over Grey.

The Steeles jumped to their feet and began to follow.

"We're the child's parents. We'll see her first."

The nurse gaped at them. "Mrs. Grey is not a child and the husband has priority over the parents."

The Steeles began to argue loudly but Taylor and one of his team "escorted" them back to their seats. The rest of the Greys would have to listen to them complain while Christian was gone.

The doctor met Grey halfway to Anastasia's room. "I heard that we have some…hmm…new visitors."

"How is my wife? Please, just take me to her." Christian's desperation had peaked and he was ready to explode. It was all he could do to not scream for her. As he walked into her room, he found her sitting up in bed…visible bandages here and there and probably more under her gown. There were two lines in her arms. The doctor explained that one was hydrating her body and the other was delivering antibiotics to help avoid infection.

All Christian saw was her battered and bruised face…her beautiful face…and her one blue eye. He sat down and took her hand. It was bandaged as well…six stiches, the doctor said. Christian raised it to his lips. She smiled at him, all of heaven in that one blue eye.

"Don't cry, Christian. I don't hurt. They gave me medicine."

He couldn't help himself. The dam inside him broke. He laid his head in her lap and sobbed with relief and gratitude…releasing all the pain that had built up inside him. Anastasia stroked his hair and told him that she loved him.

The doctor stood by…delicately allowing the couple their time. Then he quietly pulled over another chair on the other side of Anastasia's bed. He checked her pulse…slow and quiet. He noted her blood pressure on the monitor.

When he saw that Mr. Grey was able to gather himself together, the doctor began explaining Mrs. Grey's condition. He was happy to report that the x-rays, MRI and CT scan had all been clear. No internal injuries. Only a mild concussion. She was suffering from a multitude of contusions and lacerations but this was to be expected for someone who'd apparently been through a battle royal. Otherwise, he'd like to keep her overnight for observation but she could go home in the morning. Oh, and the police had been bugging him for information and access to Mrs. Grey. He'd refused their entreaties. They would have to speak with her after a good night's rest and in her own home.

"It would be a good idea for you to have a few sessions with a trauma-focused psychologist, Mrs. Grey. I'm sure that your mother-in-law knows someone she could recommend. Mr. Grey, those sessions would be good for you as well. Please consider this. I'm going to leave you now."

Christian could only gaze at Anastasia. "You're here. I'm afraid that I'm dreaming again."

"I'm here…with you. I didn't know if I'd make it back. I had to kill Jack, Christian. I'm sorry." Anastasia began to weep. Christian eased himself onto her bed, behind her, letting her rest against his chest.

"No, I'm sorry that I failed to protect you. We did everything we could think to do before and after he took you and yet, you still had to save yourself. What kind of husband am I to let that happen?"

"You are such a good man, Christian. You did everything possible but you can't think like a deranged lunatic. I'm better at that, I'm afraid. I knew from the moment he shot Baxter that I'd have to kill him. It made me sick to think about but that's a good thing, I think. Before I knew you, knew goodness, knew…knew love…having to kill Jack would have just been a pragmatic thing to do. It hurts me that you have to be married to someone like me…someone who is comfortable with evil."

Christian cuddled closer and kissed Anastasia's hair. "There isn't an evil bone in your body, my love. You are goodness personified. I've never known anyone as good as you. I don't know how you do it after all you've been through but somehow you've come out the other side not angry and hate-filled and cynical but, rather, filled with empathy and care for other people."

There was a commotion in the hallway…raised voices, angry voices protesting. Anastasia looked up at Christian and saw the dark cloud pass over his face.

"Christian, what is it? I've never seen this expression on your face. Christian?"

"It's nothing…vile emptiness. I won't allow it to hurt you," he swore.

"WE WILL SEE HER. IT'S OUR RIGHT!"

Anastasia began to tremble in Christian's arms.

CHAPTER 114

Anastasia's parents burst into the room, faces red with indignation. They had somehow shoved their way through Christian's security. When he had a minute, he told himself, he'd fire the lot of them.

He wrapped his arms even more tightly around Anastasia. Ray and Carla came up to the side of the bed and leaned over a shivering Anastasia. They stared at her.

"You look different, girl. See, Ray, that's want you look like when you have money."

Anastasia pulled herself up and closer to Christian. When Ray reached out a hand to touch her, Grey slapped it away. Ray looked startled.

"Hey, look here, sonny. This is my little girl!"

This remark jarred something in Anastasia and she stopped shaking. Instead, she leaned closer to her father and then cracked him furiously across his face. He put a hand to his cheek and stumbled back a few steps. Hellfire blazed in his eyes and he came at her.

This time Anastasia wasn't afraid. She had Christian, who was off the bed in seconds, slamming Ray up against the wall. He would have pummeled the man to death if Taylor hadn't arrived to pull him away.

"Sir, I can't continue to keep you from killing this man. Please return to your wife."

"How were they allowed to get near this room, Taylor!?"

"There was a distraction. I'll explain later. Mrs. Grey, good to see you again. Shall I remove these people from your room, from the hospital, from Seattle, from planet Earth?"

Anastasia giggled. Taylor made a joke! "It's good to see you as well. Could you stay while I talk to my parents? Christian, honey, I need your arms."

In an instant, Christian was back in the bed, with his wife reclining against his chest and his arms embracing her. Ray and Carla had been "settled" into chairs several feet from the bed, faces aflame with fury.

" 'Stasia, you've changed into a hellcat," Carla rebuked her daughter. "We didn't raise you like that. You should be a lady."

The hellcat threw her head back and laughed. "Raised me? You didn't raise me. You spent 18 years trying to kill me, is more like it. And that whole damned town sat back and watched, clucking their tongues in disapproval of those filthy, disgusting Steeles. And, no, daddy, your drinking buddies down at the bar were not your friends. They were laughing at you as you passed out on the floor or managed to stumble down the road to the cabin.

"And mommy, you loved it when daddy wasn't home 'cause then you had free rein to beat me."

Carla's mouth dropped open. "Is that what she's been telling you, Mr. Grey? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. She's always been a liar. I tried to beat it out a her but the devil had a stronger hold on her than my love did."

Anastasia laughed again but it was a bitter laugh. Christian nuzzled her shoulder and murmured that she smelled wonderful. She relaxed a little.

"My friends down at the bar knew why I drank so much, 'Stasia. It was because of you. Carla and I were happy until you came along. You made me think she cheated on me! You weren't supposed ta be born but somehow you snuck around that thing that was supposed to keep you away. I'm guessin' the devil helped you out. We didn't have the money for the 'bortion thing so we had ta keep you. You made me beat Carla! Beat her so bad that she's had the tremors ever since and birthin' you ruined her for lovin' so I had ta cheat on her. She's been real understandin' 'bout that."

"Yeah, some of that cheating you did was with me, wasn't it, Ray?"

"Hey, I'm your father. You give me my respect and don't be callin' me Ray! I never did nothin' ta you that you didn't deserve. And it's thanks ta me that you went off into the world knowin' what's out there. I put a roof over your head, food in your belly and saw ta it that you got a good education."

Christian began to speak but Anastasia stopped him with a touch on his hand. "Don't bother, honey. I'm okay. I see so clearly now how ignorant they are. Neither of them finished high school, read a book, talked to anyone with any intelligence. I can see now that they were just a way to find you. You know that song I'm always singing…about the crooked road and how I had to travel it to get to you? Look at them. If ever there was a crooked road…."

Ray and Carla looked at each other in confusion. What did she mean? What crooked road? "Just shows that she ain't right in her head. Mr. Grey, we're grateful that 'Stasia conned you into takin' her in. She was always good at foolin' folks. One of her teachers come ta the house one day and had the gall ta tell me that I needed to feed the girl more. She'd eat her lunch on the way to school and then make everyone feel bad for her."

"A slice of bread for breakfast was not also a lunch, Carla."

Ray jumped to his feet. "What did I just tell you about disrespectin' us, girl?!" Taylor pushed him back down into the chair.

Christian was shaking his head in absolute befuddlement. "You did not make it nearly clear enough how stupid these people are, my darling wife."

"Mr. Steele, would you mind telling me something about your upbringing? Did you have a happy childhood?"

Ray began a long spiel about his alcoholic father, his mother dying when he was six, him…being the oldest…having to look after his siblings…having to quit school to earn money…wanting to join the army but had too many responsibilities at home. He was beaten regularly to keep him humble and respectful.

Carla's story was the same with the exception of a few details. They were both looking for a way out so they got married and moved to Montesano. Their lives would have been good but they were targeted by the devil and now they were both sick and old and poor. It was time that 'Stasia repaid them.

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Steele, I'm sorry that you had it so rough and, lord knows, I'd like to repay you for all you did to my lovely wife but Taylor won't let me," Grey said, glaring at Taylor.

"I don't know why some people survive their parent's mistakes and go on to grow and thrive like Anastasia has. It is she who rescued me. If we hadn't met, she would still have found a way to a good life. That's the kind of woman she is…smart and capable. I'm immensely proud of her. I admire her and am so thankful that she married me."

Ray and Carla snorted in derision. "See, Carla, we taught her well. She's got him by the balls." Carla cackled.

"I'm tired, Christian."

"So am I," he chuckled. "These two really wear on a person. Taylor, please escort the Steeles to their vehicle."

Then he eased his body down the bed next to Anastasia, enveloping her in his arms and they were asleep in seconds.

Ray and Carla simply gaped at their rudeness.

CHAPTER 115

The Steeles kvetched all the way to their car and tried several times to turn around only to run into a wall of security men who then escorted their car to the city limits. They were warned that if they were caught trying to get back in, their tires would be blown out. And so, they continued on down the road with Carla yelling out the window that 'Stasia better not think that this was the end of it.

Back in their private waiting room, the Greys sat on one side and newcomers sat on the other. It was getting dark and no one was budging.

Christian and Anastasia slept peacefully in each other's arms.

The doctor, who was just getting off a double shift and was himself hoping for a long rest, had one last job to complete. He was not looking forward to it.

"Good evening. Our patient and her husband are sleeping soundly. I don't expect them to awaken for some time…perhaps late morning. One is physically exhausted and the other emotionally."

Grace interrupted him. "Doctor, say nothing in front of these people. Our children's health is none of their concern."

"Of course, Dr. Trevelyan." He turned to the Hydes and asked them to step out into the corridor. They refused.

"It's no good your sitting here all night. Non-relatives are not allowed to visit patients anyway and I can't give you any information. Any further inquiries that you have will have to go through the Greys themselves or their lawyers, I suppose. This hospital cannot be involved and I will have to call security if you resist leaving."

The Hydes huffed and, casting a scowl at the Greys, left. The Greys let out a collective sigh of relief.

"That was an unexpected and foul surprise," Grace remarked. "They actually thought that they would be allowed to interrogate our daughter-in-law. They referred to her defending herself as murder! It got pretty hot in here for a while."

"Well, hospital security and your son's security will certainly be enough to keep them away. I'm hoping to release Mrs. Grey by noon. Her condition is a miracle considering what she's been through. No internal injuries. Plenty of external ones. She'll be sore for a while but we'll send her home with some pain medication. Detective Parks has been hounding me for permission to speak with her but I've told him that he'll have to discuss that with her family."

He turned to go, paused and turned around again. "Mrs. Grey has a multitude of defensive wounds. She put up a terrific fight. Quite an amazing woman," he smiled.

The Greys flopped wearily into their seats and were silent for some time.

"Mom, if you can talk Chrissy into bringing Anastasia back to Grey Manor for a while, do you mind if I move back in, too?"

"Yeah, me, too," Elliot put in. "I'd like to get to know this girl."

"We all agree on that," Carrick said. "It will mean a mess of paparazzi crowding the gate, however. You prepared for that, Gracie?"

She smiled and nodded. She'd wear her son down somehow. She and Anastasia were already acquainted and there would be a doctor in residence so she felt that she had enough ammunition to persuade Christian. As they left the room, Grace looked in either direction and then put a finger to her lips, beckoning everyone to follow her…quietly.

They moved quickly down the corridor to Anastasia's room and slipped inside with barely a creak of the door. Then they all stood around the foot of the bed, gazing down at the "children" as they slept. No one spoke. It was quite a sight. They'd never seen Christian seeming so at peace as he lay on his side, his arm lying across Anastasia. Her face, so badly beaten, brought tears to Mia's eyes.

Riding home in the Mercedes, it was quiet…each person dwelling on their own thoughts. One that they had in common was being impatient to get to know Anastasia. How could they have ever thought that Christian had made a mistake in choosing her for a wife? The entire day had been an eye-opener.

Carrick was thinking of the Hydes. From what he'd seen of them, the family could be in for a battle to protect Anastasia.

CHAPTER 116

Christian lay on his side, leaning on his elbow. Anastasia had been home almost a month and she was largely healed. Anxiety still kept him up long after she'd gone to sleep. Nightmares still woke him in the middle of the night. He'd begun seeing Dr. Flynn regularly to deal with his mental health…or rather, the lack of it. He tried to hide his fears from his wife. She didn't need to be sharing them with him.

In the month since she'd escaped from Jack Hyde…appearing in the penthouse drenched in blood…Christian had fought an ongoing battle to relax, to trust that if he left the room, she'd be safe. Time was not healing him.

The only time he felt somewhat at ease was in the early morning when he lay like this, watching Anastasia sleep. He'd tell himself that they'd made it through…through it all. The weeks of fearing Jack, the week of Anastasia's abduction, the encounter with her parents, the interrogation by the SPD.

Anastasia had saved herself. He'd done nothing but sit around waiting and hoping, ineffectual and useless. His petite wife had rescued herself from a monster with her bodyguard's pocketknife.

Detective Parks had spent almost two hours grilling Anastasia about every detail of her abduction and escape. How did she put off Hyde killing her for days? How did she overpower a man more than twice her size? Where did she find the strength to drive a knife deep into his body? How did she find her way home? Why didn't she use Hyde's burner phone to call police? Why didn't she ask anyone she encountered on the street to help?

"Please, Mr. Grey, I know that it's hard for you to sit still and listen to me…to feel that I'm harassing your wife. You have to understand that I'm trying to cover every tiny detail that a court will want to know. I'm also trying to protect Mrs. Grey from William and Doria Hyde. They are going to demand an inquest and they have the money and the influence to possibly get away with it.

"Mrs. Grey, you've been quite thorough in answering my questions and being patient with me. I am completely on your side. If you want to stop…for now…I can come back after you've had some more rest."

"On the contrary, Detective, it's you who has been so patient with me. It seems that every other answer I give is "I don't recall". My doctor told me that memory loss was likely after a trauma. I'm sorry that I haven't been more help. Maybe after I've been home for a while. I do have these fragments of memory. Maybe they'll begin to fit together.

"As I said, I recall getting him to talk, letting him rant at me. That seemed to calm him after a while. He had someone to listen to him and he wanted to savor that for as long as possible. However, as the days went on, I was getting too tired to begin conversations. I remember Jack being angry with me then.

"While he slept, I worked the knife out of my pocket and cut my ties. My arms were aching and limp. As I was stretching, Jack woke up and kind of panicked. I assured him that I was going to sit still but he said that it was time. That's the way he put it.

"I don't remember the fight clearly. It's all a terrifying blur. He had a couple of sharp weapons…I don't know what they were. I just remember being slashed and punched and Jack laughing. At some point, I lashed out at him with the knife and he just dropped.

"The next thing I remember is walking out of the elevator and seeing Christian's face and then falling to sleep."

"Well, my men retraced your steps by watching for blood. They said that Jack had a neck wound. One stab in the neck that hit an artery. He would have been dead within seconds.

"Now, don't worry about charges. The situation is clear. Unfortunately, it's just as clear to the Hydes that you ran away with their son, argued and stabbed him to death. I don't think they'll get far…just wanted to alert you. It's easy to see where Jack got his crazy."

Since that day with Detective Parks, Carrick had been dodging every demand from the Hydes that Anastasia sit down with them and their team of attorneys to "explain her culpability in the death of their son". Their demands for an inquest had been denied…with the judge trying futility to tell them that the case had already been thoroughly investigated and the facts were clear. There were no grounds to hold an inquest. However, the Hydes would not give up.

They somehow had gotten the number of Grey's private line, as well. He hung up them. Then they came to Grey House and refused to leave the reception area across from Andrea. Grey felt imprisoned in his office and Andrea was tiring of being harassed by the couple. Reluctantly, Grey summoned his steel and ice persona and allowed the Hydes into his office. He figured that it would probably be good to suss out their resolve, get an up-close understanding of their characters.

William Hyde's resemblance to his son was disturbing. It was almost as if Jack were present but shorter. Doria was another case altogether. She was at least 20 years younger than her wealthy husband and was obviously paying herself for being with an older man. She wore a fur, jewels and clothes from top designers. She even tried to break the ice in the room by jovially complaining to Grey that she'd had no luck in finding "decent" apparel in Seattle.

"But," Doria giggled girlishly, "one certainly has no trouble finding the human dregs of society, does one? Hobos are everywhere. Did you know that they are right outside your door here?" She pretended to shake with disgust and fear. Then she stood, waiting, along with her husband for Grey's invitation to sit. The invitation was not forthcoming.

CHAPTER 117

"Grey," Hyde boomed, "we want to talk to you about our son's murder." Doria dabbed at her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief.

"I gathered," Grey said, drolly. He was a good 6 inches taller than Hyde and he used this to his advantage, staring down at the man with no attempt to disguise his contempt.

Doria was beginning to totter on her stilettoes. She turned to whisper to her husband. Looking irritated with her, Hyde requested that his wife be given a seat. Grey nodded toward the couch. It was not a firm couch. Doria sat and sank, her knees level with her chin.

"It's clear that your wife killed my son," Hyde stated…as though he was making a shocking announcement.

Grey's demeanor did not change. He exhibited no reaction. Hyde was frustrated.

"What do you have to say about that, Mr. Grey?"

"My wife put up the fight of her life, won the battle and returned home to me covered in her blood from head to toe."

Hyde shook his head impatiently. "Yes, yes. I've heard all the colorful "facts" from Detective Parks. She'd tired of my son's company, wished you to believe that she had fought to get back to you and so began a fight with Jack. His attempts to defend himself…failed."

Doria sniffled loudly. If Hyde's mangled tale of events had not been so humorous, Grey would have splattered him against the wall.

"Your inability to discern reality from more comforting fiction was inherited by your son. It ruined his life and, ultimately, destroyed it because he thought that he could easily control my petite wife. If you continue down the same ruinous path, you, too, will face destruction."

Grey pressed a button on his desk. Hyde began to sputter out threats. Grey's countenance was thunderous.

"My wife lived with your son's threats for months. I foolishly allowed it to continue when I should have just ended your son immediately. I'll not make the same mistake twice."

"My god, are you threatening me?!" Hyde responded in horror.

Grey approached to within inches of Hyde's beet-red face. "Yes."

Two burly, uniformed men appeared in the office. They looked at Grey's visitors and then at Grey.

"Sir. Instructions."

"Inspect the person of these two. Look specifically for recording devices. Give me their phones."

Doria looked up in awe as one of the men lifted her to her feet and began to search her purse. Then he patted her down with no attempt at discretion. Doria didn't mind. It was the most she'd been aroused in memory.

Meanwhile, the other man was doing likewise to William Hyde…all as he protested vigorously.

The man inspecting Hyde produced a cellphone…set to record. Grey erased its contents. As an added touch, he also erased all of Hyde's contact numbers after transferring them to his own phone. There were a few pictures of Grey's building and the inner offices. These two were erased. Hyde howled.

Doria's man also offered up a cell phone. Under contacts were a dozen women's numbers. Grey figured that she needed someone to complain to about her husband. As Doria looked on hopefully, Grey grimaced and handed her phone back. She smiled at him, batting her eyes as Grey rolled his.

Assured that neither had proof of their "chat" with him, Grey ordered his men to escort Mr. and Mrs. Hyde to the street and put them in a cab.

"One recently stained with vomit…if you have a choice," he smirked at his security.

Security smirked right back. "A pleasure to serve," one replied. "Perhaps you'd like us to station ourselves at the main elevator for a few days?"

Grey smiled. His security was well worth the hundreds of thousand he paid each year.

"Excellent suggestion, Walsh. Carry on, then." He turned his back to the departing Hydes and sat in his chair. He rarely used his dominant persona since falling for Anastasia and now he found that it left him with troubled feelings. He looked at her pictures and dialed her number.

CHAPTER 118

"Christian! I'm glad you rang me up. You'll never guess who came to call this morning." Anastasia paused a beat for effect. Christian smiled.

"Jack's parents!" Christian's face fell.

"Are you all right?"

"Perfectly fine, dear husband. I didn't actually see them. Charlie announced them and asked if he should let them up. He's such a sweetheart. Do we pay him enough, Christian?"

"He's paid by the condo board, Honey, but I'll look into it. It didn't upset you to know that they were just 20 stories down?"

Anastasia laughed one of her full-throated laughs and Grey knew that she was okay. When she stopped laughing, she asked if he was okay because she kind of figured that they'd go to Grey House next.

"Love your intuition, darling. Yes, they came, they saw, I conquered."

"The Tragedy of Julius Caesar!" Anastasia popped out with.

"Yes. Have you been reading Shakespeare?"

"Yes…well, slowly and not very well. I don't understand most of it."

"You're so smart, Anastasia. I'm sure you'll be able to explain all of it to me one day."

"Ehhh….I doubt it. But tell me, what happened with the Hyde's visit? Don't spare the details or spare me?"

Christian relayed every word of his confrontation with the Hydes. Anastasia giggled. "Oh, gosh, honey. You certainly know how to sock it out of the park. When are you coming home?"

"I have a tent in my pants and I need relief. Ten minutes. Be naked…and in bed."

As always, a few words with Anastasia calmed and relaxed him. She was the soothing balm of his life. She took him out of this life and into her eyes.

He made a quick call to the president of Escala's board. The man answered in a bored voice that picked up immediately upon learning to whom he was speaking.

"Mr. Grey. What can I do for you?" His voice was quivering with excitement but Grey didn't notice since that was the way that most people sounded when they realized to whom they were talking.

Grey got right to the point. How much was Charlie being paid? He'd like that raised by at least 30%

The president hesitated and then explained that he'd have to take that up with the rest of the board. Grey said that he understood and that the president should make clear to the board how important this was and that he'd be very unhappy if other tenants didn't appreciate the service that Charlie provided. He told the president that he would pay the 30% himself until the board's approval came through.

An hour of loving Anastasia and another hour of holding her in his arms as she laughed about all the little things in life that tickled her and Christian was too content to move a limb. Every few minutes he would murmur that he loved her, was madly in love with her, and variations thereof. He couldn't help himself. The words welled up inside of him.

Anastasia would stop her story, gaze into his eyes and understand his need. She would tell him that he was so much better at expressing his feelings than she was but that, nonetheless, she felt the same about him.

"I am very much in love with my husband…my sweet, kind, loving husband. And he should never doubt that for a moment."

He would look at her for a minute. She'd giggle and then say, "oh, yes…and I will never ever leave you." She wanted to add "unless I'm abducted", but Christian was still deeply unsettled over her kidnapping and wouldn't see the humor in her little joke.

Anastasia was the stronger of the two. However, she now carried a pocketknife with her wherever she went.

CHAPTER 119

"I can't believe this, Harry. They must have bought off a judge."

"It's LaRue, Carrick. So, yes, it's possible that they got to him somehow…money, threats, something. I suppose you could work the same way. After all, your son is much richer and more powerful in this town."

"Once upon a time, yes, but my son has softened since marrying Anastasia and now, he's a different man. Still, I'll give it a try. LaRue, eh? Such a putz."

His sweet daughter-in-law…would her trouble never end? he wondered.

Anastasia had been terrorized by Jack Hyde. His attempt to kill her and her successful defense of herself had given her new confidence. Jack wasn't the first man to try to harm her. She'd been defending herself from men all her life. She'd been beaten and raped several times. But Jack was different. Her husband saw to it that she was protected. Someone cared about her. Someone wanted her to be with him every day. Even when that wasn't possible, when she sat on that concrete floor with plastic cables holding her to a pole as she kept her captor talking or watched him sleeping, she felt strangely safe.

Christian was out there…searching for her. Anastasia's fears were all for him, not herself. She rescued herself for him. She still did not understand how it was that this man who could have anyone…wanted her. It had taken time for Anastasia to at least believe that Christian meant every word he said and that he wasn't crazy. He loved her. She was nothing but he loved her. It was impossible but, yes, he did love her.

She'd never been of importance to anyone. She'd never mattered. The few random kindnesses were not enough. She'd tried not to think about it. "Pity party"…an expression she'd learned while working in the Portland bar…couldn't let herself sink into a pity party and that's what would happen if she thought too much about anything other than survival.

But now. Now was different. There was someone to whom she was everything. He needed her. His very sanity would shatter if she did not return to him. Anastasia knew that she could escape. She knew that she could convince Jack to loosen the cables and that she could then wriggle loose while Jack slept. She tested him to learn that he slept very deeply…probably those pills he took. Once he slept, she could simply slip away.

But even if the police caught him then, Christian would constantly worry about how Jack would get to her from jail. He would be holding strategy sessions with Taylor. She didn't want Christian to be on edge all the time. She didn't want him stressed. She'd read articles about how stress could kill a person. No. That couldn't happen.

So, Anastasia planned her escape for it to be the end of the Hyde saga. She got herself out of the cables. Jack would be groggy when awakened suddenly. She nudged him with her foot. It took quite a bit of nudging to rouse him. He looked up her…eyes blinking, confused. Then, he jumped to his feet.

Anastasia smiled at him wickedly. "You have me, Jack. Isn't this what you've been wanting? Me, helpless, no bodyguards. You've been wanting to kill me so this is your chance."

Jack grinned. He didn't stop to consider why this little woman was no longer bound or why she didn't seem to fear him but it didn't matter. He was going to kill her…slowly.

For 15 long minutes, Jack lashed out at Anastasia with various tools. He cut her, he beat her with wooden handles, he slapped her and punched her. He knocked her to the hard floor over and over. Somehow she kept getting up…with trembling legs. He bounced her head off the concrete pole. Still, she wouldn't lie down and die.

He stopped as she again stood before him. "Why aren't you dead yet?"

"That isn't the plan, Jack. I'm not going to die. You are."

He stared at her, astonished. Then he laughed in derision. "You little slut. I'm done playing with you. It's time."

Anastasia nodded her agreement. She was ready to crash and she was bloody and hurting…but she had Jack where she wanted him. She pretended to back up in fear of his next attack. This empowered him. He backed her up against a wall and grasped her neck with his two hands. As he commenced strangling Anastasia, she pulled Baxter's pocketknife from behind her and stealthily brought it up as she kept Jack's eyes on hers.

She pushed the knife into Jack's neck. In his fury, his vein was bulging…an easy target. A deluge of blood ran from Jack's neck. His face took on an expression of shock. His eyes left hers. His hands loosened and then fell away from her neck. Some of his blood dripped down…landing on Anastasia's face.

She pushed him away. He lay on the floor, his eyes open and dead. Anastasia wanted very much to sit and sob. She'd never killed anyone and knew this would haunt her the rest of her days. She'd planned and executed the murder of a man.

She didn't have time to cry. She had to get home to Christian. She had a vague idea of the direction she should go and she knew it couldn't be far, judging by the distance she felt Jack had driven to bring her here. So, being in a bit of shock herself, she set off for home.

All that mattered now was Christian. She was only sorry that she had to lie to him. He thought that she was such an innocent and that was important to him…that she was in need of his protection.

CHAPTER 120

Anastasia had a cold which seemed to be morphing into flu. Thus, Christian was distracted as he sat in his father's study. Grace had insisted that he bring Anastasia to Grey Manor so that she could have a doctor on call. His brother and sister were also hanging around, trying to be of some help.

For a long time, it had seemed that Anastasia's world would be a bubble with Christian, Mrs. Jones and the security team but she had finally succumbed to her husband's gentle entreaties to go to dinner with his family.

"Sweetheart, I promise you that they are good people and they already like you. In fact, they've already met you…after a fashion. While I was speaking with your doctor, they snuck into your room to see you."

"Why did they have to sneak in?"

"Well, the doctors were worried about any undue stress you might feel. You were so beaten up and they were pretty sure that their examination was thorough but were still concerned that they might have missed something. So, they didn't want anyone that you didn't know getting in and upsetting you."

"But my parents got in?!"

"Yeah, that shouldn't have happened and believe me, the security who let them are still in recovery from the blistering beat-down they received from me. Honey, my family sat in a waiting room from the moment you were brought in until I assured them that you were going to be okay. That was a long time. And, they spent part of that time first with your parents and next with the Hydes."

Anastasia suddenly looked pained. "Oh, Christian. What must they think of me…putting their son and brother through all that trouble? Oh, and meeting the people I came from? I'm so embarrassed!"

"They know that my Anastasia is not the same person as their 'Stasia."

"Oh, my lord! Stasia. Stasia. Geez, that word is one of the many reasons I left home. I was in high school before I found out that my name was really Anastasia. Christian, if you ever call me that word, even in jest, I'll divorce you on the spot!"

Christian chuckled. "You think I'd ever divorce you or let you divorce me? Nothing…you could have affairs, grow a mustache, gain 100 lbs., start throwing things at me, take up swearing, spend all our money, even refuse to sleep with me…nothing, Anastasia, could ever induce me to end our marriage."

"Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I'd just leave, take a pile of your money and move across the ocean," Anastasia huffed at him.

Christian moved closer until he'd backed Anastasia up against a wall. He took hold of her wrists and held her arms above her head and kissed her hard. She returned his passion with her own. They broke the kiss only to catch their breath.

"You could run," Christian panted. "You could go anywhere…the highest peak, the densest forest, the deepest cave…nothing could keep me from finding you. You could scream like a hyena all the way back to Seattle but I would bring you home. And if you left again, I'd find you again. Do you think that I'd let go of the best thing to ever happen to me? The person I literally cannot live without? The woman who owns my soul?"

He released her wrists and wrapped his arms tightly around Anastasia, burying his face in her shoulder.

"Now, Christian. Please," Anastasia begged. Oh, she wanted this man more than she wanted life. She needed his hands all over her body. She needed him inside her body. She needed him.

Christian picked up his wife and walked quickly to their bedroom. They didn't emerge for hours. Mrs. Jones cornered Jason Taylor in his office and demanded that he soundproof that room or, as much as she loved her job, she would be looking for a new one…perhaps with an elderly couple…very elderly.

CHAPTER 121

So now Anastasia slept peacefully in the best Grey Manor guestroom. Grace had given her a slight dosage of sedatives to help her sleep through some of the effects of the flu. Over the past few months, with the finest in medical care that a multi-billionaire could buy…and extensive dental care…Anastasia had put on weight and was no longer hiding her smile. Now, in a word, she was a knockout. She'd look in the mirror at her curves, her soft face and her bright smile and wonder if that girl was her. All she'd ever seen before was a gaunt young women with bones poking out, a sunken face, stained teeth…where she had teeth. Now this, this woman in the mirror, was this a woman worthy of Christian Grey?

Then she would close her eyes and drink in a breath and see her husband in her mind. He had loved her before…before she was this woman and he'd told her every day that she was beautiful. She never understood it. She thought that Christian was breathtakingly handsome and she knew that she wasn't the only one who felt that way. They didn't go out much…she was shy and ashamed of her appearance and her husband was happy just being home with her…but a couple of times they had gone to a restaurant he owned called The Mile High Club. Her teeth were much improved and he wanted to celebrate his beautiful wife, he told her. All that time in a dentist chair was hard work and he was proud of her.

She was still scrawny with dull, thin hair. At least, this was what she saw in the mirror. Christian would come up behind her, wrap his arms around her waist and look at her reflection. She could see easily by his bright silver eyes and his loving smile that he thought she hung the moon.

She tried to keep this moment in her mind as they walked through the restaurant to a private room. Grey was accustomed to being stared at and so didn't notice all the swiveling heads. Anastasia knew that the looks were not for her because they were looks of admiration…and in the case of many of the women…of lust. When she went into the ladies lounge, she was followed and stared at…but in a different way than the stares aimed at Christian.

The expressions on the faces of these ladies were of bafflement, envy, disgust…none were friendly or nonchalant. One of the women felt no compunction to be respectful. She outright said that she couldn't understand how a god like Christian Grey wanted Anastasia's company. The others nodded. Anastasia lowered her head and left the lounge without comment.

When she returned to their room, Christian saw the tears brimming in her eyes. Anastasia had never been vain…had never spent much time pondering her lack of beauty…but these women, shiny and bright and done up to the nines, had wounded her deeply. Worse, Anastasia was angry with herself for her own vanity, for allowing these strangers to make her feel ugly.

Christian wanted to rise to her defense but she refused. She swallowed the pain and became bright and happy again. He knew that she was trying to make it a nice time for him so he pretended along with her. And soon, they weren't pretending anymore. The way he looked at her… Those women were blind and jealous. Anastasia touched his face and gazed into his silver eyes as they grew darker.

They'd packed up their desserts and hurried home to make love.

The next time they went out, Anastasia was truly beautiful…even in her own eyes, she considered herself much improved and now her husband didn't have to be ashamed of her. The women in the lounge were simply jealous and angry that she'd caught the fabulous Mr. Grey.

She and Christian still packed up their desserts and hurried home to make love.

CHAPTER 122

"Son, try to relax. It's only the flu." Carrick shook his head in dismay as he observed Christian pacing the study. It could have been a mosquito bite and he would be verklempt. Anastasia was weak and pale and…though she tried to keep it from her husband, she felt lousy.

"It wasn't so long ago that she was malnourished with infected gums and covered in bruises and cuts, Dad," Christian pointed out. "Any small illness could set her back."

"Your mother says that she is doing fine. She only needs to rest. Now. Sit. We need to talk about the Hyde problem."

"What do they want anyway? Maybe I can just throw a couple million at them."

"The Hydes are rich…not Christian Grey rich, certainly…but it isn't money that they're after. It's revenge and validation."

"They've spoken with Detective Parker. Don't they know what their son did? Do they approve of his actions, fer cryin' out loud!"

"Christian, I'm not going to say it again. Sit. Your mother has Anastasia well-in-hand. You need to focus or you'll never get these people out of our hair. From what I've seen of them, they might be as crazy as Jack.

"Christian, I know that they're already stalking Anastasia."

Christian sat. Pulling himself together, he looked at his father. "When? Where?"

"Taylor is stalking their stalker. He spoke with one of them."

"ONE of them! Good grief! How many are there?" Christian had jumped to his feet again with his eyes popping out of his head. Carrick waved his hand, indicating that Christian should sit back down. Breathing hard, Christian settled back on the chair.

"One at a time. Different men. Some less threatening than others. Apparently, William has connections…stay still…to unsavory elements. He isn't using agencies. The man that Taylor spoke with referred to a gang. He and I haven't been able to suss out why Hyde wouldn't just use the normal detective agencies. Taylor asked the man if he had orders to harm or abduct Anastasia and the guy said no…just follow and observe."

"Well, thank god for that…if we can believe him." Christian sighed and rested his head in his hands.

"Well, one advantage to these underworld amateurs is that they aren't trained well. Heck, the guy that Taylor nabbed didn't have a clue that he was being followed right up to the moment that Taylor put a hand on his shoulder!" Carrick laughed.

"Also, it doesn't appear that Hyde intends to intimidate Anastasia. He's just keeping watch for…oh, I don't know…to keep her from fleeing the country?" Carrick chuckled.

"What. Does. He. Want?" Christian said between gritted teeth.

"An inquest, son. A formal, legal inquest. One which he believes will prove his son's innocence and Anastasia's guilt."

CHAPTER 123

Anastasia's head was pounding and she was over-heated. Kicking off the covers hadn't helped. The cool cloth Grace had put on her forehead was pleasant but not enough. She'd been sedated but not deep enough to keep the dreams away. The same old dreams…with a twist. She liked the twist.

Her parents were coming after her…screaming "'Stasia"! Men, of every description, tried to grab her. Hyde grinned maniacally as he drew closer. She was so hungry and weak. All was lost. She was at the end of her tether, unable to fight anymore.

Then a tall, dark and very handsome man with silver eyes came walking to her. He glared at her attackers and they whimpered and withdrew. The man picked her up in his arms and cradled her close against him. He smelled good. She was saved.

Then it started all over again. Her father hunting her down in the woods. The strange men hitting her, knocking her down, doing things to her. Hyde spitting in her face as he whined about being misunderstood and mistreated while she sat tied to a pole. Despair overwhelming her until…the silver eyes looked into hers and…in a soft, strong voice…murmured that she was safe and would always be.

Grace applied a fresh cloth to her forehead. Anastasia was certainly healthier than she had been but 20 years of malnourishment and abuse had left its mark. This was the second case of flu that she'd suffered in as many months. Grace downplayed her concern to Christian. Lord knows, he was a champion worrier when it came to his wife but Grace didn't want him to know that she worried, too.

The more she learned of Anastasia's life, the more she marveled at this girl. Indeed, she'd come to marvel at the homeless littering the city…beginning to understand just how clever they had to be to survive…beginning to understand the forces they were up against. She was kinder now to the people who came to the hospital. She went out of her way to help them get the help they needed. She now understood the weariness on the faces of the social workers who were trying to work within a system that fought against them.

She'd had one victory. A patient with two children who lived in an RV on the side of a road. He'd had a house, a wife who also worked…life was good…until. The medical bills for his wife's cancer treatments, the funeral costs, rehab for a teenage daughter who turned to drugs to deal with her anguish. He'd had to sell the house and he was laid off for missing too much work. Now he worked two jobs and struggled to get the money together for first and last month's rent and a security deposit…if he could find an apartment.

He told her all this very matter-of-factly. It was a familiar story. With Grace's help, he got a job at the hospital with good pay and insurance. He found an apartment and was repaying Grace a little out of every paycheck for the necessary start-up cost. Life was better for him and his kids but Grace knew that she couldn't repair all the lives she saw being lived out on the streets of Seattle.

Thank god Christian had found Anastasia. Grace had come to love the girl and the thought that if her son hadn't taken Anastasia off the streets…. It was too much to contemplate. How long might it have been before even her strong daughter-in-law's mind had snapped?

She'd been through so much and thought that she'd finally found safe haven. Christian hadn't let on yet that Jack's parents were not done with her. He'd asked his father to keep it on the downlow but word was certain to leak soon. William Hyde was making the news with his insistence that his son was an innocent murdered by the wife of a powerful man who'd bought off the SPD and the justice system.

Anastasia didn't read the tabloids or watch the news. She was too busy working her way through her library. Still, she was intuitive and it might not be long before she caught on.

"Dad, there must be a way to stop the Hydes. Anastasia has a will of steel but I don't know if she can take much more. She needs peace. She's never had that."

"I know that, son. The DA is doing everything he can to avoid an inquest and the Hydes really don't have a leg to stand on but that isn't stopping them. They're trying to drum up support, talking to the press all the time and, of course, if the press can provoke you into a reaction…well, they'll sell papers. As soon as Anastasia is well, wait until late and try to sneak her home."

"How do I keep her from making her daily grocery stops down the street? Now that Jack is gone, there are more people coming. People are complaining about my wife encouraging encampments at their front doors. I can't blame them, either. Anastasia won't accept those complaints. She has no sympathy for our "posh" neighbors, as she puts it. Even with security, I'm afraid that she's going to hear or read something."

"I don't know what to tell you, son. The Hydes aren't going away."

CHAPTER 124

"Baby, why donja have a martini? Try to relax a little. It's been a real tough few weeks since Jackie died and I'm kinda worried about your health." Doria and her multitude of bracelets and necklaces jangled across the room to her husband, William.

"I don't think we got him a big enough grave marker, Doria. It didn't have enough room to say all the things I wanted to say."

"Oh, I don't know, Billy. You listed all of his accomplishments. I didn't even know that he had a Ph.D in business finance."

"He didn't. He intended to get one but that tramp murdered him first…so I figured he deserved it to be noted on his marker. I wanted to list the name of the woman who killed him but the monument company wouldn't do it. Probably afraid of the Grey family. They made some excuse that since he wasn't officially listed as murdered, they couldn't put that on his marker. Bullshit. I'm going to have another made up in New York and have it shipped here. I want it on the record…on his record. The last one he'll ever have."

"How long do we gotta stay in this awful town, Billy? It rains all the time. I still think that we shoulda taken Jackie home with us so we coulda visited his grave now and again."

"Yeah, that would have been nice, Sweetie, but I wanted him here where people could never forget what was done to him. And we have to stay here until we get an inquest and justice for our son. God, do you remember what he looked like? Dead, I mean. By the time they found him, he didn't have any blood left in his body. She drained it all out of him. He didn't deserve to die like that."

Doria shook her head in sympathetic dismay and sat down next to her husband. She could never let him know that she disagreed with him. Her stepson had always treated her like dirt no matter how hard she tried to win him over. Heck, he treated his own father the same way…although Billy refused to see it. He preferred to believe that Jack was just depressed…his latest reason being the lack of appreciation shown him by Christian Grey. Billy opted for his impression of Jack…as told to him by Jack…a genius who was saving GEH after his mediocre boss had spent years running it into the ground.

Grey, Hyde believed, should have understood that he was indebted to Jack for keeping the company afloat. Grey should have saved Jack from charges of assault instead of saving that druggie who tried to knock Jack down and steal his money. Grey was well aware that Jack was the better man. He knew how much he owed Jack. Jack had told his father that Ros Bailey, the COO, was incompetent but Grey was fucking her and so refused to fire her and promote Jack. Poor Jack had endured humiliation after humiliation because of his loyalty to Christian Grey.

And, then, the final humiliation…a posthumous conviction of kidnapping and attempted murder. No, Hyde swore to himself. He would not let this stand. He would show the world what kind of man he knew Christian Grey to be…him and his little whore.

Just as soon as he got those two into court and on the stand, the truth would come out. The wife would go to jail and Grey would pay a multimillion-dollar punitive judgement.

"Billy, when we get that big, fat payoff from Grey, can we getta bigger villa…with a pool this time?"

"Sure, honey, you can spend your whole day in a bikini," Hyde grinned. As soon as Doria was distracted by something, the grin on Hyde's face vanished. If things didn't go his way, he'd make them.

CHAPTER 125

Anastasia's fever had abated. She slept dreamlessly. Her face was peaceful and she had a bit of color. Christian couldn't stop himself from tracing her forehead with his finger. You are mine, he said to himself. Hyde can't have you. He tried to tap down the rising anger and anxiety. He waited for her beautiful blue eyes to open and look into his. Then he'd feel better. He'd come to realize, of late, that her strength far exceeded his. He had a lot of resources at hand to protect Anastasia but Anastasia had only her own strength. His admiration of her grew each day.

Still, he wanted to be her knight in shining armor. He didn't understand that she already thought that he was.

Slowly, her sleepy eyes began to open. A moment to focus and she smiled up at her gorgeous husband. He's mine, she thought. I'm safe. With Christian, I'll always be loved and safe.

"Hi, husband. Tell me…what's the latest problem?" She smiled teasingly. He was taken aback. How did she read him so well?

"What is my give-away?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. He always tried so hard to shield her from his worries yet she always caught him out somehow.

Anastasia laughed. "I can't tell you that or you'd hide from me. Christian," she reached up to touch his face, "I don't want you to hide from me. Granted, I don't have much in the way of experience with married couples who share their troubles but I've watched your parents and I do a lot of reading so I know that we're supposed to be in this together. Now. What is bothering you?"

Christian sighed. He had no experience with sharing much of anything…except, perhaps, business problems with Ros Bailey. And now his strongest inclination was to protect but the person he wanted to protect wanted to share. This was an uncomfortable situation for Grey. However, he couldn't say no to his wife. That was the conundrum. She was the one person to whom he could deny nothing.

"Bill Hyde won't go quietly back to Portugal. He's like his son…certain of his position in face of all evidence to the contrary."

"Well, I did kill his baby boy, Christian. He isn't wrong about that."

"Anastasia…it was self-defense!" She said nothing. Yes, self-defense after she set him up…a secret that she would carry to her grave. Christian couldn't read her the way that she could read him. He'd never know that she'd been one step ahead of Jack the whole time. She wished that he hadn't shot Baxter but other than that, her abduction had gone as she wished. Now, she had to somehow outthink William Hyde. She smiled to herself. Christian's methods were so straight forward but she was different. She'd had to learn to be devious and conniving to survive Ray and Carla and the streets. You had to be clever to live poor.

"What is he trying to achieve, Christian?"

"He thinks that an inquest will exonerate Jack and reveal your guilt. Of course, it won't and he isn't going to get one anyway. Even if it was allowed, he'd be defeated. The problem then is that if he is defeated, he won't quit. He'll stay here in Seattle and spend every day and every dime he has to find another way to punish you if the courts won't.

"Sweetheart, I know how you love to help out the homeless on our street but…"

"No, Christian," Anastasia interrupted, "I won't stop feeding them until you determine a way to house them and help them fix their lives. Those people are the most desperate of the desperate. Besides, I very much doubt that Hyde will come after me and my little army. He's still fixated on doing things the legal way. We have time yet."

"What are you thinking?" Christian asked suspiciously.

"Step one in getting rid of William Hyde is to give him his inquest. If we're lucky, step one will be all we need."

CHAPTER 126

Dinner that night was quiet…with only the sound of silverware clinking on china. Mia, sitting to one side of Anastasia, would occasionally reach out to rub her back. She was worried…like everyone…about the decision to petition for an inquest. Mia had been having nightmares about her sister-in-law stumbling off the penthouse elevator, bloodied head to toe, like something out of a horror movie.

Anastasia smiled at Mia and squeezed her hand. She spoke…the first words out of anyone's mouth.

"It will be all right, Mia. I promise you."

"You can't promise that, Anastasia," Elliot mumbled. He, too, couldn't shake the memory.

"I don't make promises lightly, Elliot," Anastasia said softly as she gazed at her husband. She'd promised him that she would never leave him, that she loved him, that everything would be all right. She hadn't promised that she would never keep secrets.

Carrick sighed heavily. "I don't know yet if the judge will agree to an inquest. After all, the investigation is closed. To allow an inquest is to question the investigation done by the SPD which that department will fight. To allow an inquest is to say that there are still undiscovered facts, that the SPD failed to be thorough…and, in this town…possibly showed bias in favor of its most prominent citizen.

"Of course, I will explain the situation to the court and perhaps that will sway some judge."

"Judge Hanover, dad," Christian said wearily. "I own him."

No one blinked at this statement except Anastasia. "What do you mean that you own him?"

"I paid for his election campaign," Grey said nonchalantly. "And if he wants me to pay for the next one, he'll agree to my demands. Honey, don't look so shocked. I don't tell him how to rule on every case. Most of the time, I pay no attention to him. However, now and again, he comes in handy. Like when I wanted to marry you and I didn't want to wait the three days required," Christian smiled at the memory.

"Okay, smarty pants. What if he decides to rule in favor of the Hydes at the inquest?"

Christian took his wife's hand and kissed it as Elliot moaned "ewe". "We don't have to worry about that, dear. There are no facts in favor of the Hyde's position. No, what I'm worried about is the grilling you're going to get on the stand. It's going to be brutal, Anastasia."

"You married a tough cookie, darling. What I'm worried about is that the Hydes will not accept the verdict. What could they do next, Carrick?"

"Nothing in the courts. However. Christian, if you didn't get the results you wanted, what would you do?" Carrick already knew the answer to this question. He knew his son.

"Well, first I'd get my investigator to dig up as much dirt as possible…including anything that could be twisted into real dirt. I'd sue in civil court with whatever Welch came up with and if I lost, I'd appeal. If the appeal failed, I'd go after my opponent's happy home life. Their kids wouldn't get into the university they wanted. Jobs would be lost when the company switched ownership. Likewise, they would lose the insurance on their home and vehicles and lives. In a word, money. I'd use every dime I have to destroy them."

Christian grinned as he inquired about dessert while his wife stared gobsmacked at him. The rest of the family seemed unmoved.

Grace scowled. "Cherry pie, of course. If we didn't have pie, Elliot would eat the table." Elliot nodded agreeably.

"Don't be alarmed, Anastasia. Christian is all talk."

"No, he isn't," Anastasia replied. Now, everyone stared at her, including Elliot who was ignoring his pie for a moment.

"Why are you surprised that I know my husband?" Anastasia asked. "He is a wonderful, dear, protective, loving man who will turn into an absolute somabitich in defense of his loved ones…which includes GEH, of course."

To herself, she was thinking that, as with Jack Hyde, she had to get to the Hydes before Christian did to keep him out of jail. When it came to her, Christian would lack finesse. He'd just blindly seek revenge. She would have to protect him from his worst inclinations.

"Anastasia, dear, you sound almost as if you approve of such behavior?" Grace remarked with reproach.

Anastasia just grinned with a certain wicked charm.

CHAPTER 127

While Anastasia recuperated from the flu at Grey Manor, Mrs. Jones had been supervising the workmen at Escala as they soundproofed the walls in the master bedroom. When the Greys returned home, they could carry on as loudly as they liked, she thought…and I can sit in my room, reading and sipping a cup of tea without having to listen to the howls of the happy couple. This thought made her smile.

Escala was such a happy place since Mr. Grey had brought Anastasia home. Mrs. Jones was well aware that he was a brilliant businessman but now she also knew him to be a brilliant judge of character. No one else would have dreamt that a strange homeless girl could bring him such a wealth of well-being. He was a different man now…healthy in body and mind. And Anastasia was a wonder. She even insisted on cleaning their bedroom herself. Mrs. Jones no longer had to change their sheets. She shuddered at the memory of cleaning that room after Mr. Grey had his one-night stands. But, after some resistance, Mrs. Grey had convinced Mrs. Jones to teach her how to use the washing machine.

Now she sat in the sitting room of her cozy apartment, drinking tea and reading an Agatha Christie mystery while the bosses celebrated their homecoming. They could have been playing chess for all she knew. It was that quiet.

Of course, in the master bedroom, it was loud with Anastasia panting and crying out, gripping Christian's hair as he buried himself between her legs. Christian was even louder as Anastasia sucked his cock as hard and deep as she could manage. This, in their opinion, was the fun stuff. What they really loved was being physically connected…his cock buried inside his wife, feeling her walls hugging him, her legs around his back holding him tightly…his one arm around her as his other hand ran up and down her body, groaning at her soft and silky skin.

He didn't want to cum. With all the women he'd been with before, he could control his reactions. With Anastasia, he could not. He wanted to stay hard, to stay with her…but all too soon, he would lose himself in her. In those moments, he was in a different world…one with only Anastasia.

He told her that he loved her…again. He told her a dozen times a day. When he left the room, he told her that he'd try not to be gone long and that he loved her. When he left for GEH and when he arrived at GEH. When he left GEH and when he came off the elevator.

For a girl who'd lived alone her whole life…even in the cabin, she hid…she adapted quickly to company. She hated when Christian left for work. She was grateful for Mrs. Jones but she needed Christian.

"Do you have to go back to work in the morning?"

"Yes, honey. I've left GEH in Ros's hands too much, too often. She has a life, too, and I've been keeping her from it. She recently met the woman she thinks is the "one"."

"I'd like to meet Ros."

"Well, why don't you come…" he was interrupted by Taylor's knock. "Don't move. And for god's sake, don't dress."

Anastasia giggled as he wiggled his eyebrows while he donned his robe. He stepped into the hallway with Taylor.

"Soundproofing working?"

"Indeed, sir. I think that Mrs. Jones will be staying with us. Of course, now I never know what I'm interrupting," he grimaced.

"Maybe we should mount a red light on the outside wall…like the ones at movie studios that say, "don't enter when red light is on", Christian laughed. Taylor did not smile.

"I received word from your father regarding the inquest. It's a go. Wednesday. I would like to register my formal objection. This is a farce. The Hydes will turn it into a circus. Detective Parks is in agreement with me. Thus, he is going to loan us as many of his force as he can spare. It would be impossible for me to put together a large enough team to protect everyone in such a short time. There will be not only our local paparazzi. I'm sure that there will be news people from national media…possibly even international."

"Well, offer my appreciation to Detective Parks, would you? Your objection is noted. However, perhaps you could persuade my wife to withdraw her acceptance?"

Taylor snorted. "Your father wants to spend the next couple of days prepping you and Mrs. Grey. Maybe that will change her mind but I doubt it. Your wife, sir…if I may be so bold…is no longer the wilted flower she was when you brought her home."

Grey threw his head back, roaring with laughter. He thanked Taylor for the update and returned to his fully bloomed flower.

The soundproofing worked both ways so Anastasia didn't ask about the laughter. She was in the shower and, thus, within seconds, so was Grey.

CHAPTER 128

"Hey, Mrs. Grey, is it true? Did you murder Jack Hyde?!"

"Mr. Grey, did you buy off the judge?!"

"Mrs. Grey, what's in your prenup? How much do you get?!"

Christian held Anastasia close to him as Taylor and his team plowed a way through the paparazzi and up the courthouse steps. Once inside, they were quickly ushered into a private room where they could catch their breath and wait for the inquest to begin.

"Christian, what is a prenup?" Anastasia asked….perplexed. "That man wanted to know how much I get. Get what?"

"It's nothing to do with us, honey. Nothing to worry about," Christian said, trying to distract Anastasia…who would not be distracted. She simply looked at him until he sighed and gave in.

"All right, Anastasia. Prenup is short for prenuptial. Some people make a contract prior to their wedding that details what each will get in case of divorce. Usually, these arrangements are made between people who have unequal assets and the wealthier of the two wants to protect themselves."

"That sounds like us."

"No, Anastasia. That is nothing like us. Can we drop it now?" The tension in Grey's voice froze everyone in the room…except for Anastasia who paid no attention.

"I have nothing and you have everything. Maybe we should have a prenup."

"Anastasia, we have everything. Everything I have is yours as well," he said with a finality in his tone…except that Anastasia wasn't done.

"But it wasn't before we married. If we divorce, I could take half of everything you own."

"Anastasia," Christian said firmly, "there will be no divorce and therefor, no need for a division of property. Now, that's all there is to it!"

Anastasia opened her mouth to continue but was interrupted by the bailiff coming into the room to summon the Greys to the hearing. The entire family breathed a sigh of relief. Anastasia was still whispering to Christian whose shoulders were very straight and rigid to which Anastasia was oblivious.

She was still holding close to Christian and talking prenups as they walked into the courtroom. She stopped in her tracks and suddenly found it difficult to breathe. The room was filled…mostly strange people, all of whom were staring at her pointedly. The bailiff hustled the family into the front rows. There were people sitting in the jury section…something Anastasia hadn't expected. She'd forgotten to ask Christian how inquests worked. She'd also forgotten that she and her husband were celebrities.

"Christian, I don't feel well. I can't breathe and I'm shaking. I feel like I'm dying."

Christian wrapped her up in his arms and rocked her. "You're my tough cookie, remember?" He was scared, listening to her panting and feeling her trembling violently. He looked over her head at his mother and mouthed the words…panic attack. Grace shrugged. There was nothing she could do right then.

"Today, Anastasia, the DA and the judge will ask questions of witnesses. The coroner will present evidence that he has found while examining the deceased. The intention is to determine if Jack died by accident or murder. You may be asked to testify but you have nothing to fear. The DA won't let anything happen to you."

Anastasia began to calm down but still…she feared that she would say the wrong thing, give away her intention to force Jack to attack her so that she could kill him.

"Hello, Mrs. Grey. Time to be called to account," someone behind her sneered.

CHAPTER 129

Anastasia jumped at the sound of William Hyde's voice. Grey whipped his head around and swore at Hyde. He would have gone further but the bailiff announced the arrival of the judge. Judge Hanover made no sign of recognizing Christian as he banged his gavel. He called the coroner to the stand and asked him to disclose the results of the autopsy he'd conducted on Jack Hyde. Death by exsanguination due to the introduction of a knife into the jugular vein of the neck.

Detective Parks was next to testify. He was asked how a knife found its way into the deceased's neck. At this point, an attorney representing the Hydes objected to Jack being described as the deceased rather than victim. The judge ruled that it had not yet been decided if Jack was a victim. Hyde grumbled behind the Greys. The detective succinctly detailed the abduction of Mrs. Grey, her appearance in the penthouse after having escaped and his examination of the crime scene. He concluded that Mrs. Grey had been quite fortunate to have lived through the experience.

The Hyde's attorney objected strenuously to almost every fact presented by the detective. He questioned how it was that Mrs. Grey happened to have a knife on her person.

"Her bodyguard carried a pocketknife. As she hugged him goodbye in the park, she managed to pull the knife from his pocket and tuck it into the back of her jeans."

"So! She intended to stab Mr. Hyde!"

"She intended to defend herself if possible."

The attorney and the detective quibbled back and forth for quite a while until the judge called time. He declared that the detective had supplied as much information as he had and asked him to step down.

"Your honor, I would like to question Jack Hyde's killer, Mrs. Christian Grey." The attorney was promptly reprimanded for referring to Anastasia as a killer. He didn't care. The jury had heard him.

Anastasia smiled at Christian and assured him that she was fine now even though he could see that she was pale and trembling. Tough cookie, indeed. Neither of them was holding up well. He leaned forward to whisper to the DA.

"My wife isn't feeling well. Don't let that mafia mouth-piece rip into her." The DA nodded his understanding.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Grey. You look awfully pale for an innocent woman."

The DA objected and like all the objections forthcoming, it was sustained. The Hyde's attorney tried mightily to get Anastasia to admit that she was not abducted…rather, she ran off with Jack Hyde.

"I have a devastatingly handsome multi-billionaire husband who adores me. Why would I want to be with a homely psychopath who tried to beat me to death?" There was a snicker from some of the people in the gallery.

"Why did you just happen to have a knife on your person the day you ran off with Jack?

"Detective Parks already testified about that. Your honor, do you want me to repeat the information?"

No, his honor did not. "Mrs. Grey, you used the knife to cut up some cable to make it appear that you'd been held captive, did you not?"

"I did not." "Mrs. Grey, you stabbed Mr. Hyde in the neck while he slept, isn't that true?"

"No, I did not. I stabbed him while he was strangling me to death."

"Liar, liar!" William Hyde screamed. The judge pounded his gavel. In a blur, Hyde ran into the aisle and toward Anastasia. The burly bailiff tackled him before he could reach the stand. Hyde continued to scream out his truth…his son was a victim of this prostitute. She set him up. They'd made plans to run away together. Jack was in love. Hyde's rant went on and on. A second officer was needed to hold him down and cuff him.

Christian took advantage of the chaos to rush to his wife and carry her from the witness stand. When Hyde had finally stopped struggling, he was removed from the room and the judge told the jurors to retire to make their decision.

"Please forgive my husband," Doria said, leaning forward. "He's lost his only child and he just can't accept it."

"And you, Mrs. Hyde?"

Doria sat back in her chair and smirked. "That kid hated me from the get-go. No loss there. Keep that to yourselves, please.

"I hope they jail Billy for a night, at least. I could really use a break."

CHAPTER 130

The bailiff escorted the Grey family back to the private room without realizing that Mrs. Hyde was trailing along behind them. The bailiff closed the door and the family all slumped into chairs before looking up to see Doria doing likewise.

"Mrs. Hyde," Grace said icily, "wouldn't you be more comfortable in your own quarters?"

Doria was unaffected by Grace's hint. Instead, she smiled sweetly at Seattle society's premier doyenne.

"I like the way you guys talk. Yer real classy." Then she looked sad. "Billy makes funa me all the time 'causa the way I talk. I tried ta change but, ya know, it's hard when that's the way ya grew up." Then she went silent, picking at her fingernails.

For a while, the room was quiet. Then Anastasia spoke up.

"Doria, may I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, sure," Doria replied, her head bobbing up and down.

"Do you believe that I murdered Jack?" Doria appeared stunned by the question. She began shaking her head back and forth.

"Oh, no. Jack was cray-cray. I knew that when I met 'im. He was such a strange little kid…ya know, the kind who pulled the legs off a spiders and the wings off a butterflies? At first, I felt real sorry for him but the longer Billy and I were married, the scareder I got. One day he accidentallycut me with a real sharp knife and looked like he was gonna," Doria made air quotes, "accidently" cut my face next. Billy came running and saw all the blood and heard me screaming in pain. The next day he shipped Jackie off ta one a them boarding schools for troubled kids."

"Did you and your husband know that Jack was stalking my wife for weeks? He'd nearly killed her but he didn't take responsibility for it and blamed her for the charges against him. When he abducted her, he planned on finishing the job."

"Yeah, well, try tellin' that ta Billy," Doria shrugged. "Billy's kinda like Jack, too. He never wants ta take the blame for anything. Sometimes it's hard livin' with him. There's days when I wished that I didn't fall in love with him. 'Course, I never been too smart about men," she chuckled. Then she paused. "But he needs me and I guess that I need that…ta be needed, I mean."

Christian tightened his arm around Anastasia. He understood.

Doria sighed and went back to examining her fingernails. Then it was silent again for a bit.

"Doria, don't feel badly about being poorly educated," Anastasia said softly. "I was living in my car when Christian found me and he and his family are the most prominent in Seattle. It took me a while to feel comfortable around them. Now they're my family, too. Don't let your husband treat you badly. Insist on being respected. You have talents he doesn't have…like knowing how to treat people well. You deserve better."

Doria smiled but she didn't think that her situation was like Anastasia's. It was clear that her husband was in love with her but Billy just wanted an amiable wife who'd provide him with good sex. If Doria stood up for herself, she'd soon find herself working for tips in a café. So…she gave Billy what he wanted and he gave her a credit card.

CHAPTER 131

The conclusion of the court was, as expected, that Jack Hyde died as the result of a lawful killing. William Hyde was present, in handcuffs and seated by himself accompanied by two bailiffs. He'd been judged to be in contempt of court and would not be released until he apologized to the court and paid a fine of $500. He got off easy because he was also guilty of slugging a bailiff but his attorney argued that Hyde was under undue stress.

Now, as he sat listening to the conclusion of the jury, his face turning ever redder, Christian again held his wife close. He'd wanted her to stay back in their waiting room but Anastasia just kissed his cheek and marched down the hallway to the courtroom. Sometimes, Christian reflected, his wife overestimated her ability to take care of herself. He knew that being independent was important to her but if she was determined to handle the world on her own…well, she was married to the wrong man.

"It is the opinion of this court that this hearing was unnecessary. The facts of the case of Hyde vs. the State of Washington were clear from the beginning. Jack Hyde was a violent individual who probably should not have been released on bail following his vicious assault on the former Anastasia Steele. The court apologizes to Mrs. Grey and her family for this error in judgement and recognizes that only the resources available to a man with Mr. Grey's wealth kept her safe while Jack Hyde stalked her and threatened her.

"Jack Hyde shot Mrs. Grey's bodyguard while they walked in a private, fenced park and then extorted her cooperation by threatening to kill the bodyguard. Mrs. Grey cleverly gained possession of the guard's pocketknife while hugging him goodbye. Hyde then took her to an underground bunker, secured her to a concrete pole with plastic cable ties and announced his intention to torture and then kill her.

"Mrs. Grey kept him talking, discussing and sympathizing with his delusions of being persecuted by the world and, thus, stayed alive for several days. Finally, while Hyde slept, she managed to complete her goal of getting the knife she'd hidden behind her into a position where she could cut the cable ties and free herself.

"As she tried to slip away, Hyde awakened and grabbed for her. They struggled. Mrs. Grey's injuries from this struggle for her life are well documented. The autopsy of Mr. Hyde showed, besides the fatal injury, only a small bruise on his arm. Jack Hyde backed Mrs. Grey up against a wall and proceeded to strangle her. With her final bit of strength, Mrs. Grey jabbed the knife into Mr. Hyde's neck, striking his jugular vein which led to him bleeding out within minutes. He fell to the floor and Mrs. Grey ran for her life…somehow finding her way home in spite of being badly injured, bleeding and in a highly dazed and confused mental state.

"These are the facts of the case, clear and undisputed by all legal authorities, including the Seattle Police Department, the office of the coroner and this court. There will be no further inquiries. This case is closed." With that, Judge Hanover brought his gavel down and swooped out of the room. He had a tee time.

All this time, William Hyde had not spoken…no loud objections. However, he would continue to be incarcerated as long as he refused to apologize to the court, pay his fine and go quietly. In addition, he'd not been a model prisoner. He acted out continually…fighting, throwing food at the guards, swearing rants in the middle of the night. A court ordered psychiatric review showed him to be a sociopath with violent tendencies who required inpatient care. He was moved to Sunny View Sanitorium for treatment while his attorney was getting rich on billable hours, trying to get him out.

Doria visited Billy every day, tsk tskiing while he raged about injustice. When visiting hours were over, she happily skipped to her cab and returned to her suite at the Fairmont where she drank and looked through all her purchases of the day. After all, she had to look pretty for Billy and uphold a proper appearance for him in public.

She was also being interviewed often by the local tabloids and even national news. She told all the reporters that her beloved Billy was being mistreated and that he was misunderstood and innocent of all the terrible things that people said about him. Doria was clever. She had a way of saying one thing while implying another. Thus, the news coverage of William Hyde's ordeal was not helpful. Doria was portrayed as a loving and dutiful wife trying desperately to convince herself of her husband's and her stepson's innocence.

Hyde's behavior worsened at Sunny View. He felt humiliated to be considered mentally ill. Soon, the doctors were dosing him to calm him down. He fought the nurses so the dosages were strengthened. He became confused and simply wandered the ward. Doria found that he'd forget her visits so she did so less and less. When she did appear, he was easily convinced that she'd been there each day but he just forgotten. He began to forget a lot. Doria fired his attorney…a waste of money. She took charge of his finances and found that she had a natural ability to invest. A new attorney arranged for her to be Hyde's guardian…of both his person and his money.

CHAPTER 132

Christian followed Anastasia into their en suite and waited outside the toilet room door. Sometimes Christian's presence was…unwelcome. Thus, Anastasia had arranged for a loud fan to be installed in the toilet room so that she could have some privacy. Christian paced the room until his wife emerged. Then he relaxed as they went about their daily ablutions.

Christian wasn't such a love-struck idiot that he didn't understand that his love for Anastasia bordered on obsession. He had discussed his neediness with Dr. Flynn who advised him that as long as he continued to recognize this, he would be all right. He would, in time, Dr. Flynn told him, become more secure and would overcome his fascination with his wife. Christian would nod and agree that Dr. Flynn was probably correct.

But…he didn't believe it. He'd begun to recognize that devotion to one's mate actually ran in the family. His father still watched his mother walk across a room and would forget what he'd been saying a moment before. Seated together on the couch, Carrick always had his arm around Grace. Given an opportunity to talk about his wife, he could run on and on with his praise of her intellect and beauty.

His brother, Elliot, had, several months earlier, met a journalist who was covering the Hyde story and had written a brilliant in-depth investigation about it that would go on to win several awards. Elliot no longer spent his weekends catting around Seattle. He spent every spare moment he had with Kate. If she had to stay late at the office, he would set up camp at an empty desk and work on his own projects. He no longer "borrowed" money from his big brother. He, in fact, paid back every dime because he wanted to be his own man, a good man, for Kate.

If he and his father were talking, they went mute if Grace and Kate walked by. "Hmmm…where were we?" was a common refrain at family dinners at Grey Manor. If the women of the house were sitting on a couch, merrily discussing whatever women discussed, the men of the house would be sitting on the opposite couch with goofy expressions on their faces, watching them talk. Grace and Kate paid no attention but Anastasia would catch Christian's eye and wink at him. Soon after, they would be tired and need to head home.

"Tired?! It's 7:30!" Grace would object.

"Well, it's a 30-minute drive into the city and then I have some work to do for tomorrow's meetings," Christian would explain. Anastasia would shrug in resignation. There would another 15 minutes of goodbyes and then Taylor would drive them home while they canoodled in the back seat. He would raise the divider and crank up the volume on his earbuds. He had, at one time, forbidden his horny bosses from engaging in actual sex but, despite their best intentions, they continued with the moaning and groaning all the way home. Taylor would have the Mercedes detailed once a week but he would make one of his minions take the car to the shop. He figured that he put up with enough embarrassment.

Now, the couple brushed their teeth and showered and had still more sex. Then they would strip the bed and put clean sheets on together. The bed was huge and too much for one person to attach the sheets. They wondered how Mrs. Jones had done it by herself all those years before Anastasia. As Christian bundled the sheets to carry them to the laundry, Anastasia threw something into the wastebasket before changing the plastic bag.

"Anastasia, what was that? What did you throw away?" He was just curious. She smiled.

"Something I won't be needing again for almost a year."

"Huh?

CHAPTER 133

Eleven months later, Anastasia gifted Christian with something he didn't even know that he'd so desperately wanted in his life…a son. Little Joe was the apple of his father's eye until a second apple arrived shortly after Joe's 3rd birthday. Their children's birthdays being within two weeks of each other made for a harried month…especially since Elliot's and Kate's twins were born that same month.

After cleaning up after baby Vivienne's birthday party and putting all the kids down for naps, the adults crashed on the living room couches. Birthday party month was over until next year.

"Honey, Vivienne is a year old now," Christian whispered as he nuzzled his wife's neck. Elliot and Kate were already asleep on another coach and Carrick and Grace were just enjoying the quiet.

"Oh, my brilliant husband," Anastasia teased. She was feeling good and she never, for a second, took that for granted. Life wasn't perfect. Her parents had turned up at the penthouse quite unexpectedly when she was seven months pregnant with Vivienne. They had dressed nicely and told Charlie that they'd been invited by their daughter to come see Joe. For socially clumsy people, they had worked up a quite convincing line of bull to feed sweet Charlie who sent them on up.

It was a weekday. Christian had reluctantly taken a flight to Toronto to discuss a business deal. He'd been dumping most of the out-of-town trips on his COO Ros Bailey but since she'd married Gwen, she was pushing back at these requests. He was only going to be gone a night but he absolutely hated leaving Anastasia…more so now that she was in her third trimester. He'd wanted to leave Taylor but Taylor refused. Grey, he felt, was his responsibility. Besides, Baxter was devoted to Anastasia so she'd be fine. Grey had been receiving more than the usual number of threats so Taylor wasn't taking any chances. He'd already had to add three new people to the security team just to track down and evaluate the risk level of all the incoming intimidations. 99% were nothing but talk. However, that 1% required a lot of work to subdue.

Unfortunately, Taylor had not included Anastasia's parents in the 1%. They were alive…making them an active danger to the family…Anastasia in particular.

So, as Taylor stood quiet and watchful in a corner of the conference room as his boss intimidated the owner of a yacht company into selling it to GEH, he was not yet aware that a heavily pregnant Anastasia was alone in the penthouse with just her son and her parents. With all the threats, she had insisted that Baxter accompany Mrs. Jones to Eddie's Grocery.

The elevator ping surprised Anastasia. It was too soon for Baxter and Mrs. Jones to have finished with their shopping. Mrs. Jones investigated every bit of produce for perfection and Baxter always took his time choosing ice cream flavors.

As the doors slid open, Anastasia felt a chill in her bones. She grabbed Joe and rushed to his bedroom and put him to bed. They'd been playing for the last hour and he was, thankfully, a bit tired so he didn't protest being put down for a nap.

The Steeles stepped into the foyer, wondering why no one greeted them. They'd expected a butler or a maid to offer to take their coats. 'Stasia's man was real rich, right?

They began to explore on their own…poking around the living area, the kitchen, the balcony. They'd just begun heading to Christian's study when Anastasia appeared on the stairs, holding a baby monitor. The last time they'd met, Christian had been sitting on her hospital bed and she'd felt strong. Now she was alone with two babies to protect.

CHAPTER 133

"'Stasia, god, look at you. So fat," Carla sneered.

"She's knocked up, you stupid cow," Ray sneered right back at his wife. "We was in town so we came ta see our grandson."

"He's down for his nap. I don't want him awakened." Anastasia said as firmly as she could. She finished descending the stairs on trembling legs. She needed to sit before she fell.

"It ain't gonna hurt him none ta wake him up ta visit his grandpa!" Ray bellowed. Anastasia could smell the alcohol on his breath from several feet away. Carla started for the stairs.

"Mom, no!" Anastasia stated as sternly as possible. "He gets very cranky if he's woken before he's ready."

"Well, now, that's just crazy. I'm his grandma. He's gonna wanna see me."

"He doesn't know who you are. He'll be scared. Would you both like something to drink?" Anastasia was trying desperately to distract them. Baxter, she thought, please come home.

"You got beer in this fancy place?" Ray growled. His eyes were reddened and watery. With any luck, he'd drop dead, Anastasia thought.

"Yes. I'll check the kitchen." Christian rarely drank beer but he kept a few craft beers on hand for Elliot. She quickly went to the kitchen, needing to get the beers before her mother tried to go up the stairs again. When she returned to the living room, Carla was studying a wall lined with family photos. She took the beer without noticing her daughter. She was too interested in the photos.

"Look at this, Ray. They got all these pictures of people and we ain't in a one of them. I guess we don't count 'cause we ain't the rich side a the family."

Anastasia's phone rang. Her parents looked disapproving when she answered it. "Seems like when you got company, you don't talk to people on your phone. We raised you better than that but guess we don't count now you got rich relatives."

"Anastasia, dear, I'm just out doing some shopping and I wondered if you needed anything for Joe or the baby. Maybe a new toy or a new robe for you?" Grace's voice was light and sweet and Anastasia wanted to cry.

"Grace," she whispered into the phone, "please come."

"Who you talkin' ta over there? Why you whisperin?" Carla charged over to Anastasia and grabbed the phone. "Who is this? Whadja want?"

"We were hoping to interest you in a new internet service, ma'am. We have several…" Carla threw the phone onto the couch and glared at her daughter.

"Don't you have the sense ta hang up on these people. Bet you could get talked into anything, eh? Now yer rich, bet you spend yer husband's money like water. You keep that up and he'll get wise ta you. You'll find yerself out on the street with those two little bastards of yours. Are they even his kids? Bet you been cattin' around while he's workin', ain't that right? That's why you don't want us ta see our grandson….'cause he don't look nothing like Christian."

Anastasia wiped some spittle off her face and tried to back away from her mother. "Well, I ain't waitin' 'til the kid wakes up. Time he learned that what he wants comes second ta what his grandparents want."

Ray held Anastasia's arms while Carla mounted the stairs. A minute later, she could be heard cussing as she tried to find Joe's room. Then her raspy voice on the monitor as she woke him from his nap, scolding him for fussing. His cries broke Anastasia's heart. She knew that he must be afraid of this strange, awful woman who was suddenly grabbing him. Carla told him to stop crying over nothing…that she was his grandma and that they were going to be great pals.

Joe's cries grew louder and more terrified. "Momma, momma," his voice trembled. Carla told him to shut up. He was actin' foolish. A moment later, she appeared at the top of the stairs, wobbling on drunken feet, struggling to keep hold of Joe who was wriggling in her grasp.

Anastasia fought to get out of Ray's arms…to rescue her son before Carla dropped him or fell with him down the stairs…but Ray was too strong and she was too pregnant. "Please, mom, be careful."

"Don't be tellin' me 'bout how ta hold a kid. You never got away from me, did you?" she cackled.

CHAPTER 134

The elevator pinged and Grace entered. She took in the situation instantly and marched up the stairs. The Steeles were momentarily stunned…long enough for Grace to grab Joe from Carla. She walked in a circle at the top of the stairs, cooing to Joe and kissing his head. His breath came in heaves for several minutes until he calmed down. He looked up at Grace and said pleadingly, "Momma?"

"Yes, baby, I'll take you to Momma." Carla began to protest. Holding Joe in one arm, Grace put her hand on Carla's face and shoved her to the floor. Then she went down the stairs to Anastasia and put Joe in her arms. She took out her phone and pressed a single number. Putting the phone back in her pocket, she turned to Ray and grabbed the beer from his hand. By now Carla had stumbled down the stairs to find that her beer had disappeared as well.

Grace put her arm around Anastasia. With the fierceness of a mama grizzly, she tore into Ray and Carla.

"How dare you come here uninvited!?"

"We don't need no special invitation ta…"

"You are nothing to Anastasia but a bad memory. You're in the hall of fame of rotten, abusive parents and you ought to be charged with assault!"

"Now, see here. Just 'cause yer rich and all hoity-toity, don't mean that you can talk ta us like that. 'Stasia is our girl…not yours!"

"She is not yours and never was. Nature makes mistakes now and then and she made a big one when she gave Anastasia to you. This dear person deserved to be loved and cared for…something you know nothing about!"

"Yeah, well, we was poor but we did our best and she had a roof over her head and she went ta school. That's a lot more than some kids. Just 'cause we ain't got money, you don't got the right ta look down on us!"

"I do look down on you and it has nothing to do with money. You are horrible people…wretched, rancid…lowest of the low. You are to leave and never come here again. You are not welcome and never will be!" Grace finished with a snarl in her voice.

"You got nothing ta say about it, your ladyship. 'Stasia is our daughter and this is her home. You got no right to waltz in here and order us around."

"Go away, mom, dad," Anastasia said in as strong a voice as she could manage. "Don't come back…ever. I don't want to see you and I don't want you in my life. I don't want you near my children." She felt Grace's arm tighten around her.

Ray moved toward them with drunken fire in his eyes and his hands clenched into fists. Grace moved to stand in front of Anastasia. The elevator pinged and half a dozen men stepped out, immediately surrounding them. Grace stepped out of the circle of muscle and stood almost toe to toe with Ray Steele. Arms akimbo, she looked him in the eye.

"You heard my daughter. These men will escort you and Carla to whatever piece of junk brought you here. They will follow you to the edge of town. My son knows every detail about your lives. If you wish to continue living as you do, you will keep in mind that he is very powerful and very dangerous when in defense of his family. After this "visit" he will have eyes on you at all times. He will be aware of every move you make and if any of those moves portend harm to anyone in his family…but most especially his wife and children…it will go very badly for you. Do you understand you piece of…" Grace halted and took a breath. "Oh, dear, the language you provoke from me." Behind her, she heard Anastasia giggle.

"We just wanted ta meet our grandson…and maybe since she's rich now…she might want ta help out her sick old parents. We don't got much and I'm gettin' on…can't work anymore since the doc says that I got a bad heart." Ray had backed up a dozen steps from Grace with Carla behind him.

"But we understand that our only child don't want ta see us or know anything about us. We just gotta live with that, I guess. He's a real cute little feller, 'Stasia. Come on, Carla. We gotta go."

"Wait!" Anastasia stepped forward, handing a curious Joe to Grace. "Stay with Grandma for a minute, Joe. I'll be right back." She walked toward the study with three of the men following while the other three stood with Grace, glaring at the Steele's. After a few minutes, Anastasia returned with a manila envelope.

"I know that you don't have a bank account but you should open one. Also, you're drunk and stupid most of the time so I'm certain that this is money down a rat hole but"…she handed the envelope to her father…"this is what you really came for so take it and never return for more. With this, you can pay your bills and survive for a very long time if you don't waste. I know you will but I will feel better knowing that I've once again taken care of you. This is the last time I will. So, it's your choice. Be prudent…excuse me…careful and you'll be fine. Be who you are and you'll need help again but it won't be coming from me.

"Look in my eyes, dad. Do you believe me?"

Ray took the envelope and looked inside. His eyes popped wide open. He moved forward as if to hug his daughter but the fear in her body was clear to the bodyguards and one of them moved to her. As Reynolds stood next to her and put out an arm in front of her, she relaxed and whispered, "Thank you, Rennie". He responded, "Yes, ma'am".

Ray nodded. "I believe you, 'Stasia. Thank you for this. It's real generous. I hope you don't get into trouble with your husband for giving us this money."

"It's my money, too, dad." Ray and Carla looked surprised. A couple of men nudged them toward the elevator, followed by the rest except for Reynolds who decided that it was best to stay with Anastasia. The doors closed but she didn't look back. She wanted to forget what those people looked like.

Grace handed Joe to Reynolds as Anastasia broke down. Grace settled her on the couch and rocked her as she shook and sobbed. Reynolds, bouncing Joe in his arms, watched, uncomfortable. Mrs. Grey was always so good-natured and happy. To see her so shaken was highly distressing. He wanted to go downstairs and go a round with Ray Steele but he knew he couldn't be beating up an old man.

"Reynolds," Grace said softly, "my son is not to know of this day until he returns from abroad."

"Mrs. Grey, we have standing orders to keep Mr. Grey informed of everything at all times. I could lose my job if he learns that I kept this from him."

"Reynolds, you have new orders now. Not a word to my son. You might find that with me you'd lose more than a job. I'll handle Christian. Understood?"

CHAPTER 135

The moment that Christian set foot on the tarmac, he saw Anastasia waiting for him with Joe in tow. He took off running and swooped up both in his arms. Joe giggled in delight and kept yelling "Daddy, daddy. Home. Daddy home!" Christian kissed his son's cheeks and then kissed his wife's lips, lingering a bit too long for Joe.

"Want daddy hold me!" His parents laughed and gave in. Oh, for the days when Christian and Anastasia could make out in the car and then the elevator and then rush to their bedroom…but those were the days without Joe and that was inconceivable.

All the way home in the car, Joe kept up a steady chatter about his toys and his cartoons. Then he said, "daddy, I meet Grampa Ray and Grandma Cara! They scary, tho'. Mommy cry real hard." After that, Christian didn't hear anything else that Joe said.

Anastasia bit her lip and tried to suppress a giggle but Christian caught both and his pants were suddenly quite uncomfortable.

He tried to glare at Anastasia but he also knew how terrified she was of her parents so he found himself reaching an arm around the back of Joe's car seat and massaging his wife's neck.

"Taylor, who should I be firing?"

"Charlie. He let them up."

"Oh. No, I can't fire Charlie. Who else?"

"No one, sir. Must I remind you once again that I do the hiring and firing? Besides, it would be Baxter."

"Baxxer!" Joe yelled. "Play legos with Baxxer! Now, momma?"

"When we get home, Joe." Anastasia tousled her son's hair and sighed. Christian's hands on her neck were driving her wild and Baxter was going to be playing legos for a very long time.

Taylor could feel the heat from the back seat. He raised the divider. Joe or no Joe, he wasn't taking the chance.

Christian and Anastasia locked eyes, leaned over Joe and locked lips. Joe began patting their faces with his little hands.

"At some point, you got some 'splaining to do, Mrs. Grey." Anastasia laughed at his Ricky Ricardo imitation.

"They came, Grace saw, she conquered…along with a half dozen security. You keep $20 thousand in cash in the study safe. I gave them my half."

Christian grinned. He loved it when she remembered that everything he had was hers as well. She could have given them the whole $20 grand. It was hers to give. Still, he knew the Steeles would run through the money in a few months and, despite their promise to never again contact Anastasia, they'd come begging again. He'd have to speak with Taylor about deterrents. He turned on the speaker.

"Taylor…"

"Yes, sir. Done, sir," Taylor interrupted.

"He's a wonder, isn't he?" Anastasia smiled.

"Yeah," Grey smirked…"a wonder." Taylor smiled to himself. Poking the bear was fun.

Christian went back to working his strong fingers on Anastasia's soft neck. He felt her groan. God, he ached for her.

EPILOGUE

Vivienne was born healthy and on schedule. Six weeks of drought were relieved by six weeks of their mouths all over each other. Still, the ache to be connected was still there and Christian decided that his daughter was going to be the last person to come between him and Anastasia.

However, they made such beautiful, charming children that soon the twins were on the way along with the Grey's seventh anniversary.

Elliot and Kate had yet a second set of twins and a deliriously happy Carrick and Grace were awash in grandchildren. Mia was seriously dating a fine young man so the grandparents anticipated both a bank-breaking wedding and more babies.

Having spent the entirety of Anastasia's largesse within a year, Ray and Carla hopped in their truck to head to Seattle for another visit. Anticipating push-back from Mr. Grey, they planned to extort the money by threatening to give interviews to any and all news outlets.

Drunk off their bums, they did not anticipate the tree that jumped in front of their truck as they left town. They wouldn't be needing money anymore.

The efforts of GEH to disentangle all the issues that left people with nowhere to live but on the streets continued. Grey personally saw to it that all of Anastasia's favorite homeless were appropriately housed and employed. Some required more help and he coaxed them into rehab. A few resisted returning to normal society.

Elena's Elite Escorts? Well, she served some time for colluding with Jack Hyde and when she emerged into a rainy day, she found that she had nowhere to go. She had not abided by her NDA and thus, as Christian had warned her girls, there were consequences…life-altering consequences. He had bought both the notes on her business and her house. When last seen, she was bartending at a little dump on the less posh side of town.

William Hyde's psychosis deepened the longer he spent in Sunny View. Doria saw to it that his care was continued. Her investments were doing well. She bought property in Portugal, including a villa with a pool…and a pool boy.

And the man who started it all in his brutal way? His flat stone sank into the earth and was soon covered in weeds. He was forgotten.

Oh…and for his 35th birthday, Anastasia bought her husband a storybook cabin on a crystal blue lake.

THE END