NOTE FROM RIOTTORI: LET THE GAMES BEGIN...

Ana:

I'm sitting in the office, waiting for her. Her work is spread in front of me, the words that had so hurt me now serve to make me furious. The sweet splash of anger, an emotion that I can use, drips deep inside. I can almost hear it, trickling through.

I am making her wait. I am putting her on edge. She will wait for me to call her in. I imagine her out there, all false bravado to go with her fake persona. In a few short minutes I will come face-to-face with a cheap imitation of me. This is no longer about her and Christian. This is about me and the girl who thought she could replace me; the girl who thought she was stronger than me; the girl who brought out the worst shades of Ana – her weakness and shame. And today she will wish she'd never fucked with Anastasia Grey.

Alice:

I'm waiting to go in. I look around the open-plan office. The ubiquitous sound of the work place – people typing, answering phones – is an interesting backdrop to the show-down that is about to happen in Anastasia Grey's office. I am going to ruin her, I will replace her name plate on the door with my own: Alice Grey. She will give me those days back that I desperately needed to take her husband.

I hope she hasn't told him about the manuscript but I have a feeling that the detail I went into will have driven them even further apart. They haven't been back to Black's for weeks. She hasn't visited Escala. If she has told him, I guess getting Christian is over. Then it will be all about the money. I'll settle for the money but I really want Mr Grey.

Ana:

I take a deep breath, stand and smooth my skirt down. I want to be standing when she enters. I want us to be eye-to-eye. The voice is telling me to go easy. I may have to play a victim – it depends what she wants. I am about to find out. I pick up the phone with a surprisingly steady hand.

"Marie, can you send my 12 o'clock in, please?"

She doesn't knock, just pushes the door open. I bet that behavior wouldn't have been accepted at my husband's office. She stands before me, a trace of a smirk on her face. What I wouldn't do to wipe it off her. I was sounding more and more like my husband!

"Miss Thomas?"

"Mrs Grey?" Her eyes are challenging and she emphasizes the 'Mrs' part of my name. Christian was right about the new generation – they were blood-thirsty.

"Take a seat." I am careful to sound as bland as possible. I need to know what she wants from me, from my husband, before I choose the role to play.

She sits, the smirk becoming wider when she sees her work fanned out before me.

"I found your work very interesting."

She looks at me and I hear the smirk coating her words. "Hmm, I thought you might, Mrs Grey." I'd never known a person so filled with venom that it penetrated everything about her – her words, her posture, her expressions. This is who your husband fell for? This is who reminded him of you? God, lust really did make you blind. And stupid.

I push the voice to one side, but not completely away. I may need it later.

"May I ask you about the inspiration behind your work?" I am treating her as I would any new author.

She flashes another smile at me.

"Your husband."

It's been said, it's out there. I am almost stunned by how brazen she is. She obviously wants to get down to business, no sugar-coating, no pussy-footing around. Our eyes meet over the desk, the blues lock together. She is now unsmiling and unblinking. "It's all about my experiences with your husband and the world he introduced me to."

"What do you want?" I drop the facade. I am looking at her as wife now, not editor.

"Have you told Christian about the manuscript?" I cannot stand to hear my husband's name on her lips. I swallow.

"No."

"Good," she says and flashes me another smile. "Smart girl." She's patronizing me? Under the desk, my fingernails dig into the pads of my palms.

"I want you to divorce your husband."

I breathe in deeply through my nose and exhale through my mouth. It calms me slightly, but only slightly.

"And what do I get in return?"

"The manuscript."

"I could just purchase the manuscript from you." I pretend that I'm making a deal.

She laughs, a cold, hollow sound. "No deal. I don't only want money."

"And what will you do if I say no?"

She shrugs as if we're discussing something light, not the calculated collapse of my marriage. "I'll take it to another publisher. I'm sure someone else will be interested, especially when I change the names back."

I blink at her. "You can't," I gasp. "You must have signed an NDA..."

She laughs again, injecting more ice into my office.

"I never signed an NDA."

I close my eyes. "Oh, Christian."

"I know. Your husband was quite careless."

I shake my head slowly then open my eyes.

"Listen," I say, sounding desperate to make a deal. "This could do irrevocable damage if it ever got out. Please, Alice." She assesses me with her cold stare, showing absolutely no remorse.

"Divorce your husband. Let him be free to come to me. If it wasn't for you," she practically spits at me, "we'd be together now. He loves me."

The girl is delusional.

Is she? Asks the voice. Or has your husband been lying to you even more than you originally thought?