It was brought to my attention that I haven't updated this story in over 10 months. Holy cows, you guys I'm so sorry. I really don't know where the time goes!

I have a new job now that offers me quite a bit of free time in the mornings, so I have more time to work on my stories and original works. I hope that means I'll be able to stick to a more regular updating schedule, but as usual, I cannot make any promises. I also have an art sale coming up next week, and a bunch of assignments due for Grad School. That said, I'll do my best, but it may be the New Year before you see another update. Sorry about that. Real life is such a heartless bitch. Without further ado, here's an update!

Chapter 37

Christian PoV

Despite recovering from brain surgery, Ana was diving into these Thanksgiving plans had first. She'd brought the Seattle community together to create this giving back to the homeless meal. I thought I had pursued plenty of philanthropic projects, but she was leaving me in the dust.

On the day of the event, people were lining up down the block. A few of the coffee shops in Seattle donated hot drinks to those in line, distributing cups of hot cocoa and cider to the eager people. There were some clothing companies donating jackets, the knitting group was handing out their handmade scarves and hats. Another crafty group made a bunch of fleece blankets and was passing them out. These people would to leave here with full stomachs and some items to help keep them warm throughout the winter.

Once the doors open, people filed inside, in a surprisingly orderly fashion. Ana was busy taking down information from each of the homeless people, where they were staying, whether or not they had a job, and so forth. She clearly wanted to continue helping them.

"I want housing for all of them," she told me once she made her rounds. "We need to figure something out. Convert an old warehouse district or something into apartments. The space is here in Seattle, it's not like we're too many people here. I'll talk to Elliot about this, I think." She went to find my brother, but my hand on her arm stopped her.

"Ana, Ana, slow down. This dinner is a huge success, and I can just see how thankful all these people are for a hot meal. You're doing great, baby."

She shook her head. "It's not enough. When their bellies are full, where are they going? Back on the streets. They're getting nice and toasty warm in here, and have received some winter supplies, but that doesn't guarantee a safe warm place to sleep, or that they're going to get fed tomorrow. The money is available, clearly. Look how many businesses came out to give back. I have millions I could invest in this. So do you if you feel so inclined. So do your parents and mine."

"So you want to start a foundation, is what you're saying," I summarized. "Steele Home foundation?"

"Something not so cold sounding. Your name is the same way. When I think of Steele and Grey, I don't think of warm, happy things," she replied. "No offense. It's just our surnames, while lending themselves to plenty of plays on words that can be useful, do not give warm imagery. I think of gray skies, rain, and cold metal when I think of our names. Those images don't jive well with creating a foundation that is supposed to help homeless people."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Having a 'cold' last name certainly added to my persona with my former… er, relationships."

She smiled. "Indeed." She went off to greet more people as they arrived and say goodbye to those that finished. Many didn't want to leave, taking second and third helpings of the meal, once they were told that was alright. I understood there were a few soup kitchens that only allowed one helping per person.

Taking Ana's cue, I began to move around the room as well and interact with the people. One group was having a conversation about how they wound up homeless. Thankfully, I heard nothing about any of them having lost a job at Grey Enterprises or any of its subsidiaries. I liked to think I provided generous severance packages that would allow an individual ample time to seek employment elsewhere before needing the money too badly.

One man said he had been in and out of prison. "It's hard to get a job if you're a convict," he said. "You get out of the big house only to get sent back in within weeks or even days. It's like… no one will hire you because you have a record, so you can't get money, so then you gotta resort to your old ways to get by. Next time I go in, it'll probably be for life. At least I'll get a bed, a blanket, and three squares a day."

That got me thinking. I'd heard stories of some convicts deliberately committing crimes so they would go back to prison just to have a roof over their heads and consistent meals. If Ana was going to start a foundation to help the homeless, I was going to start one to help convicted felons find work and housing once they're out on their own. If they're committing crimes out of necessity, something is seriously wrong with the system.

I collected a few more stories and shake a few more hands before resuming my post in the corner of the room. Soon, Ana joined me and we traded some of the tragic tales we'd heard. "I think I want to start a foundation, too," I told her. "Something that helps convicted felons get jobs. I heard a few tales of how hard it is to find work once you're out, especially if you were in their for a fairly serious crime.

"I think that a person's ability to work, and work hard should have nothing to do with their criminal past. I mean, would I hire a bank robber to work at a bank? Probably not. But that doesn't mean he or she couldn't work somewhere else."

Ana smiled, her eyes glimmering. "That's a wonderful idea, Christian. I think you'll do great at that. I'll help in anyway I can. But about hiring a bank robber to work in a bank… remember Frank Abagnale?

"Who?"

"He was a guy back in the sixties that forged over 2 million dollars worth of checks. He faked payroll checks from PanAm airlines and cashed them at banks all over the east coast. Now he works for banks and other corporate offices helping them ensure their documents and checks are unforgeable. So that's a scenario of hiring the guy that robbed you to make sure you don't get robbed again. Now I'm not saying that every convicted bank robber should have a job like that, but I'd bet there's some guru out there… some person that is really really good at robbing banks that could help a bank become un-robbable."

She made a fair point. Perhaps there could be a rehabilitation program that helped convicts hone their skills that they had previously used to commit crimes to help them turn them into a legitimate job.

We allowed the event to go late into the night to accommodate as many people as we could. By the end, all the food had been eaten and all the donations had been distributed. Ana ended up getting general location information for more than two hundred people, hoping to have housing for them within a month or two. She didn't announce this, but simply told everyone she'd like to visit them from time to time. A couple liked to keep to themselves and did not disclose much information to her, but with her personality, she was well-liked by nearly everyone, and many of them shared their stories with her.

The next day, Ana stayed in her office most of the day pulling permits and finding out what warehouse areas were available for development. If she had her way, and she probably would, she'd have the construction well under way before the New Year, and have the people moving in by Valentine's Day. She called the mayor's office, and even the state's representatives for Congress and House.

By the end of the day, she had purchased a block of abandoned and/or condemned buildings and was communicating with Elliott and her own contractors about getting construction started as soon as possible. She had donations from many other businesses in the Pacific Northwest, myself included, and was well on her way to getting this project going.

For the next few weeks, I hardly saw her. We'd eat breakfast together every morning, sleep together every night, but the hours in between were anyone's guess. She'd occasionally surprise me at work for a little afternoon delight, but then was out the door moments afterwards and back in her office, or at Mammaw's, working with Gail on her coffee shop plans, or working at the block itself, taking tours, and conversing with inspectors to see what needed to be repaired, torn down, or renovated.

She wanted as many apartments as she could fit, to help out as many of the ten thousand homeless people in Seattle King County as possible. Not everyone came to the dinner of course, but many did, and they knew of others. Ana hoped that word would spread through the communities that someone was finally going to do something to help. "I'd like to hire some of them to help with the construction, too," she told me one morning as we were chatting over a plate of pancakes she'd just made. "Let them feel like they're part of something, and that it's not a hand out. I know a lot of them won't want to feel pitied or like they're charity cases. Plus, having a home "

"That's a great idea, baby. Maybe you can set up a job fair right there in the community. Or if they want help getting job offers from other places, we could set up a salon day. Help them get haircuts and professional attire, and so forth. Speaking of salons, we have that project to get undergoing, too."

"Oh yeah, the salons. I got so caught up in the giving-giving day, I forgot all about it. Have you thought about playing around with people's names to name the chain?"

"Well, the two most important people in my life are you and Grace," I told her. "I already named my boat after her, so I could name the salons after you." Her cheeks started burning a delicious rosy shade. "Hey, how about something with your middle name, Rose?"

She smiled. "I like that. That way it's not as obvious as 'Anastasia's Salon,' but still has nods to me, right?"

I nodded. "Exactly. How about Blue Rose? Since your eyes are that incredible shade of blue that see into my very soul." She blushed again. "Yes, Blue Rose Salons. I'm gonna start the project right now."

And then we dedicated at least a half hour a day to working with each other on the salon project. Mia joined us as often as she could. I worried, though, that Ana was spreading herself too thin. She seemed to take it in stride, but as the days progressed, I noticed bags under her eyes. She was sleeping every night, I saw to that, but she was doing too much every day. And the exhaustion was beginning to build up.

Thankfully, we had our Paris trip coming up, and no matter what, she was going to put all of these projects on hold until we returned. It was a battle that I was going to pick, if she tried to resist me. Even if I had to put all her devices on lock and key and make sure Pierre password protected every screen in his home, and spoke with every internet cafe in all of Europe to make sure she left it alone, and actually had a vacation for once in her life. Lately she'd been practically married to her smartphone and I was not about to let it take over our trip, either.

By the time we were leaving for the airport, she had left instructions for her second in command, her assistant, and her siblings. Between the four of them and my sister, they should be able to continue the progress of all her projects. Minus the week they're all going to take off for the Holidays. As much as she wanted to make everyone work around the clock, even Ana knew that it wasn't fair to deprive them of their earned holiday time off.

She had tried to get out of the trip altogether with the argument that the homeless wouldn't be able to go to France, or celebrate the holidays like everyone else. She wanted so badly to help these people but eventually she realized that Rome wasn't built in a day and neither would her apartment complex be. "I'd bet if you asked any one of the people you're going to help, they all would say they'd rather you spend time with your family for the holidays than perseverate on their housing project."

With her lips pursed in frustration, she relented and we finally got her to agree to the trip. It also took a skype call from her new sister to fully convince her and allay some of the guilt she was feeling. On our departure date, we boarded my private plane and strapped in for the long flight to Paris. We had to stop off in New York to refuel but wouldn't have to layover long.

While we waited for the refueling, Ana and I retired to the plane's bedroom and re-discovered each other. I slowly peeled her out of her plum dress and laid her down on the bed. She undid the buttons of my shirt and pushed the sleeves down my arms. But she forgot to undo the cufflinks, so I was trussed up behind my back… and she liked it. "Oh Mister Grey, the shoe on the other foot." Deftly, she wrapped her legs around me and flipped us over, my hands trapped underneath me. "I think I like this. Are you okay with it?"

"Oh yes. Baby. Very much so." She lowered her lips to mine and kissed me long and hard. With my hands pinned underneath me, I couldn't touch her. The torture was exquisite. She trailed featherlight kisses down my neck and my chest. All my old wounds healed, adoring every touch of her on my body. Soon, she'd worked her way to my pants, unbuttoning them with her teeth, and pulling down the zipper. Dear god that was sexy.

I lifted my hips slightly so she could pull my pants down, and she did, along with my boxer-briefs, my erection springing free. She gripped me firmly in her hand and began moving up and down. I was on sensory overload, still feeling her kisses across my torso and not being able to touch her. "It won't be long baby, I'm so worked up," I told her.

She smiled and simply pushed aside her thong and lowered herself onto my awaiting member. The groan and look of pure bliss on her face as she was fully seated on me nearly sent me over, but I was able to keep from exploding by some miracle. She began moving up and down painfully slowly, deliberately torturing me, for as long as possible. "Baby, please," I begged. She hadn't come yet, and neither had I, but I could feel that we were both on the edge, just balancing, and she had all the power to push us over, and she wouldn't do it. I wanted nothing more than to reach up and free one of her beautiful breasts from their lacy prison, but I was utterly helpless.

"We still have a little time," she replied. "I want to savor this." Her fingernails lightly scratched my chest, making me shiver. I couldn't sit up with my hands tied behind me, and I wanted nothing more than to bite her neck. She saw me chomping my teeth together and leaned down, offering me the creamy expanse of her neck. "Go ahead and bite. Just try not to leave a mark. You can do that elsewhere." I sunk my teeth into her flesh, hearing her yell in pleasure. I then peppered her neck with kisses while she continued to slowly ride me.

I could hear the pilots boarding, getting ready to announce our departure. "I'm begging you, Ana. Please!" She smiled and finally relented, speeding up her rhythm and the force of her movements. It didn't take long, and we were both losing ourselves to each other. My fists clenched behind my back as I came, long spurts shooting inside her. Her fingers dug into my chest as she found her release, long moans escaping her mouth.

"Wow," she breathed as we both came down. "Mister Grey, we should tie you up more often."

I laughed. "Don't hold your breath on that one, Ms. Steele. But it was fantastic. Now help me out of this shirt, will you? I'm sure it's too wrinkled to put back on, anyway." She climbed off of me, situated her lingerie and helped me out of my shirt. Sure enough it was wrinkled beyond use, so I fetched a clean shirt from the closet I kept on board.

"No wonder you hardly had to pack. You have a walk in closet on the gorram plane." She peered into it and saw there were a few garments for her as well. "Wait a minute, what's this?"

"When I moved in with you, I had some of the garments I bought for you moved here. In case you ever traveled with me anywhere. You wouldn't have to pack much. I know this trip there were certain things you wanted to bring, and gifts for people, so I didn't say anything."

She kissed me again. "That was very thoughtful of you. Thanks." She stepped into her dress and turned her back to me so I could do up the zip. The Captain announced that we would be taking off soon and that Ana and I needed to be buckled in for takeoff. We headed towards the seating area and settled in for the time until we could go back to bed and perhaps attempt to get some sleep before our trip.

A while later, it was announced that we could move around freely. Ana stopped at the kitchenette and prepared a small meal that we would eat before napping. "I wore myself out earlier," she said as we climbed into the bed. "I think I might actually get some sleep. It'd be the first time ever on a plane, methinks. I suppose our tryst earlier doesn't count as an induction to the mile high club since we were grounded, huh?"

"I think you're right, but we have a long flight ahead of us. And this bedroom is soundproofed. The flight crew would be none the wiser." I leaned over and pressed a kiss against the spot where I'd bitten her before. She purred. I kissed her again, and she groaned.

I pulled away, deciding to make her wait for it. Let her be the one tortured for once. We finished the food and settled in to try and get a few hours' sleep. She curled up into me and I wrapped my arm around her waist. Soon we both drifted off to dreamland as the plane quietly hummed, helping us fall asleep.

Ana and I became star members of the mile high club during our seven hour flight. After a nice shower, we retreated to the main cabin to settle in and watch a movie for the remaining time on the flight. "Are you excited to meet the rest of your family in person?" I asked her.

She nodded. "Talking with them on the phone and on skype has been great but I really want to see them face to face. Hug my siblings, meet everyone officially. It's the big family I never knew I wanted, and now I need it."

When we landed, a car was waiting to take us to the Bhutan home. Pierre appeared to be quite the name in France, as the driver was fawning over us. Then again, maybe it was Ana. She has such an effect on the people around her, and she seems totally oblivious to it.

Within an hour, we were arriving at a colossal estate, presumably the Bhutan home. Ana and I had seen some photos of it, but none of them did the place any justice. Buckingham Palace was a close comparison, and even that may be smaller than this place. The whole clan was waiting in the entrance for us, huge smiles on their face. A couple members of Bhutan's staff rushed to the doors of the car to let us out and to remove our luggage from the rear.

Pierre was the first to embrace Ana, who was then passed off to her sister, Antoinette. She hugged Ana so tight I thought she truly might burst. Then was Audra, who was also over the moon about meeting Ana. Andres appeared bored, but I could tell he was very happy. Yes, he was even more outnumbered than before, with yet another sister, but he secretly liked it, I think.

I shook hand with Pierre and his wife. Antoinette gave me a warm hug, but not nearly as big as the one she gave Ana. Andres shook my hand and asked me about my brother, as he and Ethan had talked with him a bit about architecture over the past weeks. Audra blushed as she shook my hand, and it deepened even more when I kissed her cheek in greeting. Apparently, she had a little crush. She did look a bit like a mini Ana, only with lighter and much curlier hair. But the blue eyes were spot on.

I wondered if Pierre's parents were going to be here and what they made of this situation. He hadn't mentioned them other than saying that Ana had his mother's eyes. I didn't even know if they were alive or not.

"Please do come in," Pierre's wife said in French. She stopped to ensure we both understood her and we, in unison, told her that we both spoke French.

"In fact, I have a funny story about me speaking French," Ana said as we walked through the entryway. She stopped and turned to me. "Too soon?"

I laughed. "No, Baby, I think we're okay with it now being a somewhat funny memory."

As we were led through the house, Pierre and his wife, Susanne told stories about the rooms, and the items found therein. Ana and I both had a good eye for art and architecture, so we oohed and ahhed and complimented them at the right moments. We were shown our room and offered some time to get unpacked and rest.

Ana set to moving all her clothes into the closet, organizing them as she went. I sat on the bed and simply watched her work. She moved on to my luggage after asking if I minded if she unpacked my things. "Feel free to put your paws all over my clothing, Angel."

She blushed and smiled, but kept silent and continued organizing. Eventually, she finished and joined me on the bed. Despite getting a bit of sleep on the plane, we were experiencing a bout of jetlag and felt thankful for the much needed nap. Susanne had told us when dinner would be ready and that we should dress for it. "Pierre's parents will be here," she'd said, which also answered my question about their existence. "They don't know anything about Anastasia yet, so we're trying to ease them into it."

That was news too. Ana asked Susanne why they were keeping her a secret. "Well, they were never fond of your birth mother. To them, she stole their son's innocence and whatnot. Pierre hardly speaks to them, as it is. But he thinks they deserve to at least know of you. I'll put it to you like this. They're lovely people, but it's wonderful that we can send them home at the end of the night."

"Understandable," Ana agreed. But I could tell that she was a bit bothered by the fact that Pierre's parents were totally in the dark. I don't think she liked the idea that they may not like her simply because they didn't approve her biological mother. She's not the type of person to judge another based on their biology. I was a shining example. My biological father was her rapist. All that plus her experience with grandparents thus far hasn't always been positive. Yes, she had her Mammaw, but then there was Elena.

After we lounged in our room for a bit, we showered, dressed, and made the trek to the common area. And it was a trek. Our room was in the east wing, meaning, we had a ways to walk before reaching anyone else. We liked that we would have such privacy, especially when trying to get to know these people. It's always good to have an escape, when necessary. Ana was wearing a black dress with a lace back. It covered her scars, but still showed the delectable tone of her creamy skin. She adorned it with a set of jewelry I had procured for her from Carolyn. "This place reminds me of the castle from Beauty and the Beast," Ana comments as we're walking down the hallway. "I'm half expecting some of the furniture to start talking."

We both stared a an upholstered bench for probably too long as we walked by, waiting for it to start barking at us. I have to admit, I was slightly disappointed when it didn't. Memories of a young me watching that movie with Elliot and a baby Mia came to mind. "Maybe a candlestick will start singing 'Be our Guest,'" I joked. Ana laughed and tucked her arm in the crook of my elbow.

As we reached the common area, Pierre, Susanne, Antoinette, Andres and Audra were all already seated, waiting for us. I didn't spot anyone else in the room, so it appeared Pierre's parents had yet to arrive. "They're running late as usual," Andres told us as we sat down.

We were offered wine, which I accepted but Ana declined. "Ana, you don't like wine?" Pierre asked.

"It's not a matter of not liking it, Pierre. I don't drink alcohol. At all," she replied.

"Are you in a program or something?" Antoinette asked, being her usual blunt self, as I'd heard Ana describe.

Ana laughed. "No. I'm not in any program. I don't have a drinking problem. Can't have a problem with something you don't do. I just don't partake. It's a personal choice." Antoinette gaped at her as if she weren't human. "I know it seems surprising, but if you experienced what I had, when you were young, I'd imagine you'd have a similar outlook."

"How do you mean," asked Pierre.

Ana took a deep breath. I knew what she was about to tell him. "Well, Pierre, to be perfectly honest, because of my mother. My biological mother."

He uncrossed his legs. His formerly relaxed position now a bit tense. "Oh? What about her?"

"Let me preface this information with the fact that I have an eidetic memory. I remember every single thing that has happened in my life, even the trivial things. Now, that said, every moment with my biological mother and her 'friends' has been burned into my brain like a tattoo. Many adults may be happy about that idea, able to relive their childhoods whenever they like. Mine, however, was a nightmare. Hell on earth."

Pierre's expression changed again, this time to shock. "What do you mean? I mean, I knew about Rebecca's substance abuse I'd read about it on the news when I learned of you. But what happened to you?"

"I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that my formative years were literal torture. I have the scars to remind me, even if I could forget." She pushed the sleeves on her dress up and showed the scars on her wrists. "My ankles match, and my back is covered in scars."

"Scars from what?" Antoinette asked, getting closer to get a better look.

"I really don't think you want the details," Ana replied, her eyes flashing to Audra momentarily. At twelve years old, her mind may have been a bit too innocent to know all the horrors Ana endured, some that mirrored my own, and some that were worse. So much worse.

Susanne had Audra leave the room, much to her dismay, and gestured for Ana to continue. "More often than not, I was neglected. Rebecca was a prostitute, and when she had her men come over, she'd tie me up in my crib. For hours at a time. She did this once I was big enough to climb out of it on my own. She'd finish, get her money or drugs, get high, and then forget about me in there. I rubbed my wrists and ankles raw multiple times trying to get out, which is why I have lasting scars.

"On the rare day that she did remember I existed, I was never able to do anything right. I cried too much, or didn't take care of "baby brother" well enough, or my empty stomach was growling too loudly. In those moments, she beat me. She'd make me hold onto a door frame while she whipped me with whatever implement she could find. A wet towel, a belt, the cord from the vacuum. Anything. And if she was too blitzed to do it herself, she'd have one of the men do it for her."

"You couldn't walk around in that dingy apartment without hitting a bottle or a beer can with your feet. The sound of bottles clinking together as someone moved, hearing it get louder as I knew they were nearing my room used to fill me with fear. And ever since, I can't look at alcohol in a positive light. I certainly do not judge anyone that drinks. To each their own."

"Oh Ana," Pierre cried. "My sweet Ana. I am so sorry. I will never forgive myself for not working harder to find Rebecca. I could have saved you from all of that pain." He opened his arms to her and she willingly stepped into them, letting him hold her close. She was still wary around men, but it seemed as though Pierre had made it onto the acceptable list.

Ana gave him a sad smile as she pulled away. "I admit, I thought those same things when I first learned about you. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"What?!" I piped in. "Why?!"

"Because it led me to you," she answered, her eyes twinkling at me. SHe sat down next to me and took my hands in hers, her thumb caressing the promise ring on my finger. "If Pierre had found Rebecca, or never left to begin with, he would have been around for my birth. Perhaps he and Rebecca would still be together today. Maybe not. Maybe he would have found a way to get custody of me and I could have been raised here in France. Either way, I would not have endured the abuse and neglect that I did. My childhood would not have been so similar to yours. And I wouldn't have understood you. I wouldn't have been able to empathize with you. And despite how much I believe we are meant to be, that would have been a huge obstacle between us, and I'm not entirely sure we'd have overcome it. Would I have been happy? Yeah, probably. You'd have been in your tower, shutting out the world, carrying on with your former activities, having no idea that I existed. And I wouldn't have had a clue about you. I just wouldn't want to live in that world. If I had the chance to go back and take away the pain from then, but lose you? No. not for a second."

I couldn't believe that she'd rather live the horrible childhood she had instead of being raised in this palatial home in France by a father that would clearly have loved her more than air. All for me? I know she said I need to get over my self-hatred, but this is a bit beyond. I sit back, reeling at the words she just said. "I love you," was the only thing I could think to say.

"I know," she replied, winking. "I love you, too."

A/N: sorry again for the hella long hiatus, folks. Up next will be meeting the grandparents!

check out pinterest dot com slash craftyrivers slash fanfiction slash

for some pics of what I found for Ana's and Christian's dinner outfits, and Pierre's palatial home.