APOV
It's a rare treat to be awake when Christian is sleeping and I take full advantage of the gawking I can do in private. He's sprawled on his back with one arm draped over his face, the other under the sheets. I snap a picture on my phone and then pull down the sheet to see all of him without his watchful eyes assessing me. I'm not at all surprised to see his hand is holding onto his dick and suppress the urge to take a picture of that.
He's a marvel to appreciate. Even in rest his body is tight and toned, ready for anything that comes its way. Each breath expands his wide chest, each exhalation shows the defined cuts of his abdomen. I notice the little things now though, the way his knees have no hair on them and the small scar on his left hip. How is it that this man wants me? I want so badly to touch him but I don't dare wake him. I thought I had recovered enough but two more rounds after the car have left me acutely aware of what I was doing tonight.
My diamond bracelet twinkles in the moonlight when I lay back down and rest my head on his shoulder, laying my arm across his lower belly to admire the sparkle. The arm over his face comes down and pulls me close as he mumbles my name in his sleep. Reaching blindly for the blanket he grabs it and covers us both before falling back into whatever dream he was in.
"Do you want me to come with you to your Krav class later? I can clear a few things and meet you there."
"I'll be ok, Ray helped to verbally kick my ass yesterday about it and as much as I hate when he's right, he was. I need to just do this, face it and deal with it."
"If you change your mind, I'll be there, Ana."
I don't want to dwell on my impending lesson, I'd much rather face the paparazzi that has surely gathered outside of Steel Translations so the less I talk about it, the better. I slide off the stool to put my dish in the sink, forgetting to hide the wince and as usual, Christian misses nothing.
"Are you still sore? I thought you said you felt better?" I put the bowl in the sink and turn, giving him an 'are you serious' glare.
"You're huge. I'm small. It's been a week. It's getting better, I'll tell you, just like I did the other day, if I need to stop having sex." He grins with satisfaction.
"You are really tight, we should probably fuck as often as we can so that you can get used to me." After a swig of orange juice he saunters over to me and lifts me onto the counter, nudging my knees apart to stand between them. "In fact, we should start that training now."
"As much as I'd like to, oh, that feels good…" My legs hold him tightly so that his hard on is pressed directly against me, rubbing up and down the seam of my skinny jeans while watches me. "Ah, stop, you've got to stop, I've got to get to work and so do you."
"Mm, just give me ten minutes." His feather light kisses to my neck and ears beg me to reconsider.
"I want to, I really do but I've got a call at nine and it's already 8:40, I've got to go now if I'm going to make it." He pulls away abruptly and walks to the doorway. His sudden departure leaves me on the counter with my legs spread like an idiot and I snap them shut with humiliation when he turns.
"I'll tell Ryan you're ready to leave. Wouldn't want you to be late for your call." What in the fuck was that about?
I hate to run after a man but he leaves me with no choice. I hunt him down in the bedroom where he's putting his shoes on and I notice he ties them just a bit harder than normal. At first I thought maybe I'd read his attitude wrong but when I walk in he doesn't even look up.
"What the hell was that about, Christian?"
"What?" He stands and shrugs into his suit jacket, grabs his sunglasses and wallet and texts Taylor about leaving.
"Are we going to play games? I'm really not interested in that type of juvenile relationship." That stops him but it angers him also. Tread carefully, Ana.
"What the fuck does that mean? You want out, Anastasia?"
"No, I'm not looking to 'get out' as you put it. If something is bothering you and I ask what it is, tell me. If you say, 'what' or 'nothing' or any of those other cliché responses, then you're playing a game. Either you're mad or you're not." Now I'm pissed.
"I'm fine, Anastasia. You'd better go before you're late for your call." I resist the urge to scream in frustration and walk past him to the elevator. He stands silently next to me, an unreadable expression on his face. Mine's pretty clear, I'm furious.
"Honesty, Christian. It comes in all forms, emotional honesty being one of them." He just raises his eyebrows quickly and extends his arm for me to go into the lift first. Oh whatever! I still feel the pull but along with the desire to wrap my legs around him I also want to slap him. But I'm a lady so I just walk to the car and allow him to kiss me quickly.
"Have a good day. Are you still planning on going to dinner with your girlfriends tonight?" I have never been more grateful for a social life than I am right now. He's been a bit moody since we woke up earlier and pouting, it does not look good on him.
"Yes, I'll see you tomorrow." He pauses a beat and closes his eyes before settling them back on mine in a blaze of anger.
"You're really still insisting on staying at your place? Alone? Even though that fucker is still out there?"
"Yes, I am and I'm not going to be alone. There are FOUR girls coming back not to mention an alarm system NASA can't crack into and three armed CPO's. I'm pretty sure we'll be ok." And with that I get in the car, shut the door before he can shut it for me and start texting anyone I can think of so that I'm not looking at him.
Three hours, two coffees, fourteen paparazzi and a vent session with Missy and I still don't know what happened in the kitchen. Surely that couldn't have been because I said no to him. I get that he's a bit mercurial but that was such an extreme turn around it still stings. Missy comes back in, tosses a few Reeces on my desk and sits down across from me.
"You gonna call him or what? You're in LaLa Land over here. I mean, it's Friday at noon and we still haven't ordered our sushi. Being distracted is one thing, skipping out on our weekly sushi fest is a whole nother beast. Either call him or call Shiro's, I'm hungry."
"You call Shiro's. Ask them for sake too." Her eyes shoot up along with her hand.
"Damn, Anastasia Steele is pissed! Sake it is."
Thirty minutes later our food has arrived and been inspected by Ryan. Does he really think someone at Shiro's is going to poison me?
"Are you going to hire him or what?"
"I think so, he's definitely competent and I think he'd fit in well with us. The big question is if he eats sushi. That, is a deal breaker." I pop another piece of spicy tuna into my mouth while Missy toasts to finally finding someone who can fill in on some more of the Asian languages she and I lack.
"Hear hear! So where are we going tonight anyway?"
"Somewhere casual, Jose's show took a lot out of me, it took four cotton balls to get that polish off my nails. I even wore hairspray!" She laughs at my fake horror face and stands to clear the food away.
"I bet, you looked pretty smoking hot. What'd you think of his new girlfriend?"
"I liked her, it doesn't hurt that she's from Ireland either. I bet their kids would be beautiful. We should ask her to come tonight." And that reminds me, I never did talk to Christian about his jealous little outburst where he all but shoved me behind him so that Jose couldn't hug me.
"Is there any more sake?" Tipsy in the middle of the day. If I could I'd keep it my little secret but since he knows the number of calls I get a day, I'm sure Ryan will report not only how much I drank, but the times of each sip.
At two o'clock there's a brisk knock on my door and before I can answer, Christian opens it, shuts it, locks it and lifts me from my chair, sitting me on my desk and grabbing the back of my head, kissing me as if his life depended on it.
"What in the fuck are you doing?" My head is spinning from the kiss and from his sudden appearance but he says nothing and starts to unbutton my blouse. "Christian, what are you doing?" He kisses me again, silencing me and pulling the shirt open before moving to the button of my white skinny jeans.
"Christian!"
"I need you, Ana. I can't fight with you, I just can't." His kiss is only broken when he stands back and tugs my jeans off, tossing them behind him onto the bookshelf. "Please?" He pleads into my mouth and I say nothing because I can't. I'm still flabbergasted at what's going on but my hands have a mind of their own and weave into his hair to kiss him back. I hate myself right now but he smells so good and god, the way he kisses fans that slow burn I can't seem to get rid of since meeting him.
With one hand he pulls me forward by the small of my back while his other hand unzips his pants to free himself. For the first time since I've met him he seems frantic and disjointed but his touch still sets me on fire. Between his hands and his mouth I feel him everywhere.
"I need you." He says again before his hands spread me. His thumb hooks in my white lace thongs and pulls them to the side and begins to lick me with long rough strokes. When I cry out he bends his middle finger into my mouth to silence me and I suck it greedily, biting it when I can't take the pleasure. Just as I'm about to explode he stands and pulls me back to the edge of the desk and kisses me.
"Can I take you, Ana?" Take me?
"Christian, I don't understand what's going on. What do you mean, take me?" He chuckles and presses his cock against me. Oh! Take me.
"Oh." I just shimmy myself down onto him the best I can from this position and watch as his face turns from frenzied chaos to serene focus. It's remarkable really, the transformation I see come over him and with every thrust, every grab of my breast or squeeze of my hip he comes further and further away from whatever was chasing him.
"Ana." He says it like a prayer and lays me down as if my desk were an altar. My fingers curl around the edge above my head and grip tightly in an effort to keep from crying out. With practiced ease he pulls my bra down and grabs my breasts, his thumb and index fingers pinching each nipple and not letting go even as I'm driven further up the desk.
I'm going to come, I can feel it in my belly, in my legs, in my back and I arch and wrap my legs around his waist in a bid to get closer to him. Just as I begin to tip over the edge I look up and grab the back of his neck, leaning up as far as I can on my elbows.
"Come with me, Christian." He stifles a cry, his face red and tense, his eyes betraying whatever is going on in his mind and he comes silently, his liquid desire shooting into me and enhancing out my own climax.
Almost fully dressed and laying across my desk we hold each other, sweat and breath mingling as I try to make sense of what's going on with him. He was a lost man when he walked in here but now, when he pulls back and out, I see my Christian again. Carefully he pulls my bra back up and buttons my shirt as I lay there with him still inside me. He grabs a few tissues and holds them beneath us when he pulls out, cleaning me with a satisfied grin and ignoring my embarrassment.
"Thank you, baby." He says when he arranges my panties back into place and hands me my jeans. He zips himself back up and tosses the tissues in the garbage, grabs my now jeans clad ass and pulls me tightly against him. "I needed that so badly. I need you so badly. I'm sorry about this morning."
I'm in a daze, not so much a sex induced one but a relationship induced one. Is this how he expects us to work through things? Because as great as that was, that'll only get us so far.
"I've got to get back to the office, call me before dinner." He kisses me goodbye and hugs me tightly again and then…he's gone.
What the fuck just happened?
"Hey." Missy walks in and takes one look at the desk and my hair and nods her head. "Yup, you just experienced a fuck and duck."
"A fuck and duck?"
"He comes in, fucks, and ducks right on out. Did you at least get off?" That is exactly what just happened.
"Don't you have something to do right now?" She raises her arms and goes, shutting the door behind her. Did I just get used? I feel used but knowing Christian, he won't see it that way. But I see it that way and right now, that's all I care about. I've never felt anything but cherished by him but in the last five hours he's managed to make me feel stupid, frustrating and now, used. Tears sting my eyes and fall down my cheeks until they pool in front of me on the desk, right where my ass had been just five minutes ago. It only adds to my embarrassment and my confusion.
"Now, Anastasia, are you ready for today?" I nod, afraid to speak.
"You will do your basic positions and you will tell me, word for word, what happened last Monday night. You will use names and you will take back your power." Eyal turns and points to the door. "You! Out." Ryan looks at me but I want him gone, I don't want anyone else here so I just nod again and watch him leave.
"Now. Begin." As Eyal barks out positions I do them, waiting for him to command me to speak. "On Monday. Begin."
"On Monday I was attacked." Fear, punch.
"His name!"
"On Monday I was attacked by Jack Hyde." Paralyzing fear. Eyal comes to me, touches my shoulder and stops me.
"Say his name again."
"Jack Hyde."
"Again, this time you yell."
"Jack Hyde!"
"Good, now what did he do?" I stand still even when he turns and gives me a position. He repeats himself and on autopilot I crouch and sweep.
"He grabbed my neck. He pushed me and pulled me to a dark part of the parking lot and then he tried to kiss me and strangle me at the same time."
"Strike!" I punch out and turn my hand sideways in a simulation of a neck cut. "Continue!"
"I froze." Which is exactly what I do right now. My arms hang limply at my sides and I stare at Eyal when he approaches me and puts his hands on my shoulders again.
"You did then. You will not anymore. Strike and tell me the rest." I shake my head, I can't.
"No." He accepts this and walks away turning.
"Next time you will tell me more. Now, you will tell me everything you just said while you fight me."
An hour later I am exhausted, sore and I'm sure bruised on my ass since that's where I spent half the lesson as he fine-tuned the moves I did know and focused on the finer art of self-defense. Ryan opens the car door and hands me my phone.
"Mr. Grey wants you to call him." Well isn't that nice. He continues to glance in the rearview mirror willing me to call Christian. Ten minutes later his phone rings and I hear him say 'yes, sir', 'I did sir', 'no sir' before he hands the phone back to me. I only take it so that Ryan doesn't get fired, my accompanying eye roll immensely satisfying even though there's no one else to see it.
"I don't feel like talking. I'll call you later." I know I sound like a bitch but right now, I just don't give a fuck.
"Ana, baby. Ryan said the lesson went better, are you ok?" He thinks that's why I don't want to talk. For once he's not in tune with me. The one time when he is the problem and it just sails right over his head.
"I'm fine, I just don't want to talk. I'll call you later." He stutters his goodbye. I hand Ryan's phone back to him and look at my own. Nine missed calls in 10 minutes.
"Here, drink this." Missy hands me a glass of ice and vodka. It burns going down but it feels good; rebellious and dangerous. I've moved past hurt and straight to pissed. I may be a novice at relationships but I know what being used feels like and I don't like it.
"Alright, spill it. What's the deal?" I'm surprised it took Kate this long to ask. We're at some random bar, standing around the high-tops drinking beer and vodka. Lisa and Heather are off dancing with some random guys they just met leaving me, Kate, Missy and Rachel.
"Nothing, I'm just a bit overwhelmed by some office stuff." I shoot Missy a look that she thankfully gets right way.
"Yea, it was a bit of a tough day, interruptions and demanding clients. Annoying shit really. Hey, how's things with Elliot? What's he up to tonight?"
Kate launches into how wonderful her new boyfriend is, how he's so protective and so in tune to her needs. Between the two of them they've slept with half of Seattle but listening to her, you'd think nobody but them ever existed for each other. I want that. A little voice in my head whispers, 'you have that' but do I really? Does Kate get a fuck and duck from her boyfriend in the middle of the work day after a fight?
I mean, he didn't even ask if I was doing something, if I was busy. Nothing. He just started undressing me, overwhelming me and then fucking me. It was kinda hot.
"What?"
Kate turns her face towards me and repeats herself. "Elliot is with Christian at some bar. I was thinking of surprising him, maybe get him to do me in the bathroom. Did he say where they were going? "
Well, no, because I don't know anything about what Christian does in his time away from me. But he knows everything about what I do.
"I forget." I'm too humiliated to tell Kate that I didn't even know they were hanging out.
Two hours and god only knows how many vodka tonics later Kate's phone pings and she looks at it, her eyes widening with horror.
"Oh my fucking god! What the fuck?" I reach for the phone just as she realizes she's speaking out loud and turn it to look at a picture of Christian and Elena Lincoln walking into an Italian restaurant. She's smiling towards the camera while he trails behind, Taylor on his heels.
"What is this?" My stomach drops as vulgar scenarios play out in my head. "When was this, Kate?"
"It's a Google alert. I have it set so that anytime any of the Grey's are mentioned in the media, I get an alert. What the fuck is he doing out with her?"
"When was this?" She opens the accompanying tag and reads aloud; "Christian Grey and longtime friend Elena Lincoln share an intimate lunch at Trattoria 121 in Seattle today. Ms Lincoln is the owner of The Esclava Salon Chain. The two dined in a private room and left after a leisurely lunch."
"When was the picture taken?" Missy is watching me very closely, her unblinking eyes never leaving mine.
"Ana," she says low so no one can hear her. "Don't go jumping to conclusions."
"Um, the time stamp says 12:43." Mother fucker. He had lunch with her and then came to me right after desperately needing a fuck. He used me because he didn't fuck her. I'm going to be sick. "Ugh, that woman is a cunt. I don't care if women shouldn't call other women that, I abhor her. She is a vile, dried up cunt and I loathe her."
"Why?" I blink at her, does she know? She looks at me, her internal debate obvious and then opens her mouth to speak.
Just then Jose shows up looking every part the successful photographer. Rachel jumps into his arms and kisses him soundly and I watch as her hands run across his chest and onto his upper back, anchoring him to her. It's so easy, so thoughtless and normal.
He speaks to her in Spanish, obviously forgetting that I can understand as he tells her how beautiful she is, how he couldn't stay away from her, how happy he was to see her. She answers him in her Irish lilt, her Spanish surprising the hell out of me enough to snap me back into the present. Beautiful and smart, go Jose.
Shoulders thrown back I walk over and hug him in greeting since my boyfriend isn't here to stop me and then walk to the bar to buy him a drink. There are random men everywhere and even I can see that most of them are checking our little group out. Heather is wasted, hanging on some guy with tattoos up and down his arms and Lisa is literally sucking face with his friend. She waves me over so I go to her, drinks in hand.
"This is Mike. He's got tattoos."
"I can see that. Are we dropping you off at Sawyers house on the way out of here?" Suddenly she's alert and far less drunk, Mike a forgotten memory.
"Shit, do you think I should? I mean, I'm way drunk."
"Yes, I can see that. I'm ready to go now though, do you want me to have Ryan drop you? He can call ahead and make sure it's alright with Luke but I'm sure he won't mind seeing you."
"Ana, he's got a huge dick. Like, humongous. And stab wound or not, he knows how to use it. I can't get enough, if I show up, he's going to think that I'm a slut." You are. But I don't say that of course, it's one of the things I admire about her actually. She just assumes men want her and most of the time, she's right.
"I'll have Ryan call him now. I'm leaving in ten minutes, come say hello to Jose with me."
In the car Heather goes on and on about Sawyer and his big dick and how she loves it so much so that when we finally get to his apartment I shove her out the door and wait until I see her wave out the window. When she got out I could see the pink of Ryan's face and maybe it's the vodka, maybe it's the confines of the car or maybe it's because I never had a brother but either way, I can't help myself.
"Prude. You'd think working for someone like Christian Grey would beat that shyness right out of ya. Pun intended of course." His laugh escapes before he can stop it and I realize sadly that even though I spend more time with Ryan than anyone else at this point, this is the first time I've seen him smile. Collecting himself he pulls back onto 4th Avenue before speaking.
"Mr. Grey would like you to come to Escala tonight since plans have changed and Ms. Plato and Ms. Badlecki aren't spending the night."
"You can tell Mr. Grey to go fuck himself. Take me home, my home, or I'll get out and walk."
Ryan says nothing but drives me to the apartment, walks me in, does a sweep and then sets the alarm. I go in my room, put on my pajamas, brush my teeth and crawl into bed, crying as soon as the lights turn off. Tuesdays meeting and then today's lunch with Elena, a quick random fuck on my desk and then out with Elliot. What else don't I know?
CPOV
At nine am precisely Tony Lain enters my office and hands me a stack of papers.
"Take a seat. Tell me why you don't just email these to me?" He sits and stutters out a quick apology. "What am I looking at here?"
"The top sheets are the transfers made into the fake account for Magdalena Corsica since its inception. You'll notice there are no withdrawals. The next page is the contact information for the bank manager and the assistant manager. I felt those were important to include since they'd have to sign off on any CTR reports and they never did. It shows collusion, at least, that's the way I see it and I'm pretty sure a court would too."
There are pages and pages of deposits, most of them smaller amounts. Under the excel listing is a page with names and numbers.
"And this?" He takes a deep breath and moves to the edge of his seat.
"Those are the names and social security numbers of three more young children who died around the same time as the real Magdalena Corsica. Again, no connection at all to Elena Lincoln, two are from New Jersey and one is from Virginia. I had Welch run a check on the older issue social security numbers listed on that particular banks database. All four accounts have the same mailing address." He leans back, quite pleased with himself and he should be, "All four use an address in Waitsburg. Welch is sending a guy out there as we speak to check it out. I hope you don't mind us taking the initiative but you said you wanted something today so we pushed ahead as quickly as we could with this."
"You had access to the banks database?" He shifts uncomfortably and looks down.
"From what I could access, those three accounts show the same type of activity, a few $100k deposits followed by $25k deposits and a large number of smaller cash deposits. The total of the four accounts is over $11 million dollars."
I'm impressed. With both Tony and Elena.
"Good work, Mr. Lain, now what about Esclava's books?"
"Nothing. They're clean, I'm finished with the audit. I found a few minor problems, none of them illegal and none of them related to the financials that Mrs. Lincoln would have access to."
"Damn it! Fuck! So this is the best we can do? Numbers on paper with no trace of who or what they're for? When will Welch know about the address?" He raises his hands and shrugs. Fuck! I was counting on some sort of ammunition for my meeting with Elena today and this just pisses me off further than I already was.
Ana's rejection of me this morning still smarts. I know I acted like an asshole about it but what am I supposed to say, 'I've got to meet with my former molester, my company may get taken down by one scumbag woman and being inside of you makes me forget about it all?'
"We need to find out where this cash comes from. How far back do the deposits go?"
"Eight years." Eight years, $100k deposits. Cash. Suddenly the dates make much more sense to me. Holy shit, this is the money I paid to her to find me and train submissives.
"And there's no way to trace the cash?" He shakes his head, I breathe a sigh of relief. "I'll talk to Welch and let you know if you need to do anything else. For now you can resume your normal duties and return Mrs. Lincolns financials to her." I sit, dejected, my heart pounding as I look at further evidence of my depravity. I paid my molester to find women for me to hit and fuck.
"Sir?" I look up and blink, I had forgotten he was sitting there. "If I may, there's still the matter of her missing personal finances. She's never sent them over and according to your contract with her, she must provide them and have them audited congruent with her business audits."
"I'll speak to her. For now just forget about Lincoln. Thank you, Mr. Lain." If she's taken the pains to cover her tracks with fake social security numbers and a bank across the state, I know we're not going to find anything in her tax returns.
When he leaves the weight of the numbers staring back at me crush me. I quickly run through them and as I knew already, they add up to $1.4 million dollars. Fourteen one hundred thousand dollar payments for fourteen submissives. I paid almost one and a half million dollars to beat and fuck women that I could barely be in the same room with unless they were naked. My disgust drops to a new low.
I go back, lining up each $25k deposit with a $100k one. All of them done within two weeks of each other. Why the connection? Why after I've paid Elena was someone else giving her $25k?
Picking up my phone to call Taylor, the picture of this morning's affirmation pops up. The red of the lipstick she wore last night contrasts harshly with the white walls of my shower but I find it beautiful nonetheless.
You are honest.
Am I? How honest am I when I still haven't told her how I really feel about her? I still haven't told her the shit going on here in the office or what my Dad told me. She still doesn't know about the pimp and the burns or the fucking connection between her and my subs.
Overwhelming hatred consumes me and I call Bastille instead, demanding that he meet me in the GEH gym asap for a spar. He consents and Andrea has the gym closed so that I can fight in private.
No matter how hard I hit or how many times I connect a punch I can't shake the anger or the fear or the aggression eating at me right now. I need Ana. After Bastille leaves I call her a half dozen times and then call Ryan who assures me that she's in the office working and seems to be very busy on the phone. Just knowing where she is helps to take the edge off.
Elena emails with instructions as to where I'm to meet her. Welch has tracked down the bank account she wants the $10 million wired into to Switzerland, no surprise there. Unless we have a person inside the actual bank, and we don't, that's a dead end for us. She actually has the audacity to sign her email with xoxoxo Elena.
"Hello darling, so good to see you again. I trust the money has been sent?" She air kisses me but I don't reciprocate, instead motioning for her to walk.
I hate this woman but I will get out of her every bit of information I can before I drop the hammer on her. I'm not happy to be using my ace against her so early on but without an investigation into the bank accounts we found, I've got little else to use. Welch is actively pursuing every lead he can and has a team of men in Walla Walla as we speak but I'm hesitant to even clue her in to the fact that we know she's got the accounts and Welch agrees, it gives her too much of an opportunity to do something about it. The host leads us to a private booth in the back and brings us the wine list. My hand quickly rises to refuse it.
"No thank you. What's the quickest dish you can get out here?" He looks a bit stunned and takes a minute to think.
"Spaghetti."
"I'll take that and water. Thank you."
"And for you ma'am?"
"She'll have the same." Elena laughs, actually laughs and waves me off.
"I'll have a glass of your best Argentinian Malbec, a house salad and whatever dish takes the longest to prepare."
My exaggerated intake of breath has her laughing again. Once she receives her wine she tips it back and smiles. "Well, it's been too long. How are things? How's your parents? Your siblings? Your little girlfriend?"
"I told you not to talk about her at all. She's off limits, you got it? In fact, add my family to that list, I don't even want their names coming out of your vile mouth." I'm seething, rage simmering so low beneath the surface I'm afraid my skin might burst into flames with it.
"Sweetheart, you can tell me whatever you want. What I choose to do with it is my choice." She sips again and then sneers. "Tell me, does she give good head? Remember that one sub you had, Jillian or something, the one that would gag every time? Pity, I had such a hard time finding her someone after you knowing that she couldn't give a decent blow job."
"Elena, give me the pictures now. I'm not here to play with you, I'm not here to walk down memory lane. I'm here to get what we agreed upon."
"And you will, after we've eaten and I receive confirmation from the bank. That was part of the deal as well." She takes a diminutive bite of her salad, no dressing, and leans back, crossing her arms. "I want to know, does she give good head? I'll sit here all day until you answer me, you seem to forget who's in control right now."
"The best. Careful there, don't choke on your tomato, I'd hate for you to die." She didn't like that, her eyes turn to slits as she leans forward and begins to recite to me each of my submissives names.
"Lillian, Tracey, Rosanna, Michelle, Courtney, Lucy, Sandra, Kristen, Susannah, Jillian, Julie, Sarah, Leila, Kate. And let's not forget me. What do these names mean to you, Christian?"
"What's the point of all of this Elena? What are you after?"
"You." She hisses, her red finger nail pointing at my chest. "You went and found someone without me, left me out of the loop after all the shit I've done for you, all the messes I've cleaned up for you, all the time I invested in you. I fucking saved you and how do you repay me? By one day deciding that I wasn't good enough for your services anymore, not even good enough for lunch and then you want to fucking audit me! Well guess what? Nobody leaves me." I sit back and smirk. I get it now.
"I see, so you thought that you'd always have me in your pocket? Always have THE Christian Grey as your ticket to the upper echelon of society. You never had me, Elena. Not even when I was a child, you were nothing more than a hole that felt good to stick my dick into. Trust me, I've found better places."
"You're a real asshole you know that?" She shuts her mouth as our food arrives but I don't touch mine. I couldn't eat if my life depended on it.
"I do. Where are the pictures, you're eating, we're done here."
"No. We're not. I'm not done. You've left a trail of women in your wake who fell in love and I'm the one who's got to hear them bleat on and on about it. I want recompense for it. One million for each submissive. Wired into the same account."
"Are you fucking nuts? You've got to be fucking kidding me!" She jeers at me then tips her wine glass in my direction as a mock salute.
"They have a club you know, they all get together to talk about how they can't get over you and no other Dom has ever lived up to you. It's nauseating but even I concede that you were the best. You have until Monday." What? How do they even know each other?
"Or what?" She reaches into her bag and hands me a large brown envelope. I snatch it and open it, the pit in my stomach growing deeper as a picture of me, naked and holding a whip stare back at me. The girl in the picture could be any one of the many subs I practiced on in Boston, her face is obscured by the mask and gag but the tension in her body is evident. She's afraid. Of me.
"Keep looking, you know you want to. Does Anastasia let you whip her? Tie her up? Fuck her ass? I'd hate for you to find yourself back at the clubs looking for someone to fulfill all of those needs when I've got women lined up to come to you." Her voice softens, "Come back to me, Christian. We can put all of this," she waves her hand between us, "behind us, pretend it never happened. Let me find someone better suited for you. You know she can't measure up."
The photos are lurid and my face is clear in almost all of them, an angry scowl that reeks of hatred and rage. There are pictures of me fucking two girls at once, a picture of me getting a blow job by a woman hanging from the ceiling. Pictures of women tied up, gagged, on their knees. All with their hair braided and brown. My throat stings with bile but I sip my water and look her dead in the eyes.
"This is all of them? The negatives? Every copy?"
"Yes. I'm nothing if not honest." Right. I don't believe her for a minute.
"Good." I lean forward, crushing the pictures between me and the table. "Because I will destroy you, Elena. I will rip your heart out through the back of your head if any picture or video of me leaks anywhere. I will burn your house, your salons, your cars to the ground and piss on the ashes."
"Such vileness from such an educated man. How sad." I toss a leather bound package on the table and it lands with a satisfying thud. "What's this?" she snaps.
"My ten, no, make that 24 million dollars. Did you think you were the only one with pictures you stupid cunt." She is stock still. "Take a look. You're going to want to see these."
She flips the leather open, her eyes widening with horror before she slams the portfolio back down.
"Where did you get these? How did you get these?"
"At one of your tedious as fuck dinner parties two months ago. You're the only idiot I know who doesn't change the passcodes on a safe regularly. I've got Welch tracking down the boy as we speak, it's clear that he's under age, isn't it? You're a sick twisted bitch."
"But…these are still in my safe, I just saw them two days ago!" I say nothing, just take out my phone and snap a picture of her sitting there across from me in disbelief.
"Technology and all that shit." I stand and lean forward so that she can hear my low growl. "When we track that kid down, and we will, I will bury you." She stutters for a few seconds before gasping out a rebuttal.
"You have more to lose, Christian, you'd be a fool to go against me and you know it. Forget the money, we'll call this a wash."
"Desperation looks bad on you, Elena. I'm not dropping anything. You think I'm going to knowingly allow you to continue to molest children? I. AM. DONE. If you so much as breathe near me or Ana, I will fucking kill you."
"Take me to Ana." Is all I can manage when I get in the car. I know that with the media still camped outside her office, fucking losers, that me showing up in the middle of the day will be all over the internet but I don't care. I have to see her.
"Mr. Grey! Are you here to see Anastasia Steele?" No, asshole, I'm here for shits and giggles.
"Mr. Grey! What steps have you taken to ensure the safety of your money?" My heated stare in Taylors direction doesn't go unnoticed and I see him drop back to 'talk to' the offending journalist.
Prescott hits the elevator button as soon as I walk in the lobby and Ryan has the door opened before I can even get to her office. I give a quick nod to Missy who stands with surprise and then walk into Ana's office and lock the door. Just seeing her makes me feel better, as if her mere existence helps to balance out the Elena Lincolns in the world.
Her surprise has her asking questions but I hear none of them. Inside I'm tormented by the pictures now locked in my briefcase, tormented by the pictures of another young boy who's mind will wreak havoc on him for years, tormented by the fear of my parents finding out, the media finding out, of Ana seeing what I've done.
"I need you, Ana. I can't fight with you, I just can't." I need you, I need your acceptance of me just as I am. I need to taste all that is good and right and it's only when my tongue feels the soft flesh of her labia that I finally calm down inside. All of her, I need all of her. Just as her body gears for release I pull back and up, positioning myself so that I can feel the comforting warmth of her body surrounding mine.
"Take me?" Her innocence and trust in me fulfills my every need. When the light bulb goes off in her head she moves her body down and takes me inside of her. Yes! This is exactly what I needed. With each thrust the tension of the day falls from my shoulders.
Afterwards, as I lay on top of her in the post coital glow I've recently started experiencing I grin when I think of her commanding me to come. The irony that today of all days Ana would take control isn't lost on me. Once I leave, calmer, centered, and back in control I think about her command over and over.
It doesn't feel the same as when Elena ordered it of me years ago and in some small way I actually liked her taking ownership of my body like that. But I've had control over my sexual interactions for far too long for a comment like that to not unnerve me. I dial Flynn myself and have Taylor drop me off for a quick 30 minute session.
"Why does Anastasia, a woman you have admitted to loving, who you are in a safe, stable, loving relationship with, commanding you to orgasm have any negative feelings associated with it?"
"Isn't it your job to tell me?"
"No, it's my job to help you figure out what the issue really is. Tell me, did it feel good?"
"Fuck yea, it always does. It's like, I can't describe it, it's always better with her. And I think that's what's fucking with my head the most. She commanded me to do something that only Elena ever has. And I not only obeyed, I liked it."
"Christian, there is always going to be things associated with your past relationships that will be repeated in your sexual life with Ana. That does not mean that those things are bad or even need to be analyzed. They're just part of a normal healthy relationship and you need to learn how to accept them as that."
"I guess on some level, anything I've done previously seems so dark and tainted that I want to keep Ana from it entirely."
"And her commanding you to orgasm seems dark and tainted?" Well, now that I think about it, no. It was hot hearing those words come out of her mouth.
"It did, it doesn't now." My head lifts and I sit up straighter. "I liked being owned by her, giving her power over me. I trust her." Flynn nods sagely and stands to open the door.
"It's only been six minutes!"
"Yes, congratulations! That was the quickest breakthrough you've ever had. Now get out before you start rethinking it."
"Welch, where are we at with the pictures and with the address? What about the Swiss account?"
"Sir, the bank account is a problem, it's in a foreign country so none of my usual databases or contacts have any available information. Without knowing the balance, the opening date, the way in which it's been funded, we can't report it to the IRS."
"And the photos?"
Welch sighs into the phone before he begins. The main photo itself is graphic but it's the very obvious age of the male, on his knees with a collar that we all find so disturbing. When I had gone into Elena's safe it was to find any pictures of me that she may have had. I found none of those but I found plenty of her with other men and some women. This picture though, was the only one in which the age of the participant was evident. In the others of him, his back is to the camera but I took copies of them nonetheless.
At the time I felt sick but I could relate the boy in the photo, that had been me at one time. But as the days went by I began to find myself becoming more and more uncomfortable with it and that reason alone is what spurred me on to sever our business relationship. I had handed Welch the photos within hours of retrieving them and outside of everything else he'd been doing, he had also been trying to track down the boy.
Surveillance on Elena's house hadn't provided anything incriminating, the only male that had come to visit was Issac, her current submissive but he's well over 18 and a consenting adult. At first, the motivation was to have a further insurance policy against her but as the days went by and the sick feeling didn't lessen, the focus on finding this child was to save him from what I now know is a twisted pedophile.
"Well, that's a bit tougher. The kid isn't on any facial recognition software, he's got no tattoos or piercings for us to begin with, and he's not been to the house as far as we can tell. If she's still meeting with him, it's a different location."
"I want you to call Raymond Steele, he has a friend who I'd like you to get in touch with. Totally private, no names, no connections, absolute secrecy. He can't even tell Ray what his added assignment is. Use whatever funds necessary, cash, and prioritize this with the Hyde issue. If we don't have a name by this time next week, we go to the police as is." I interrupt him before he can argue with me again about it. "I don't care if they can only get her on one count of possession of child pornography. Anything is better than nothing at this point."
"Andrea!" the click of her heels becomes louder but it's Jacqueline that appears in the doorway.
"Andrea is meeting with Ros's assistant to plan your Miami itinerary. Can I assist you with something?"
"I want Bastille here in an hour." She stands there, staring at me. "What?" She's almost as bad as Olivia.
"Um, I'm sorry, didn't you already meet with him today?"
"Your point?" She blinks and nods.
"I'll call him now. You have a meeting with Sheldon Morgan in ten minutes and you have colored lip gloss on your collar." I smile and breathe in the calm that Ana brings to me even when she's not here.
"It's Ms. Steele's. I'll change before he gets here, tell Ms. Jones that she'll need to send in a few more shirts tomorrow." OK, now get out.
Elliot meets me in the GEH gym after work and spars with Taylor as I take on Bastille. I end things a bit early so that I can check in on Ana, her lesson should be over now and the texts I've received thoroughout from Ryan assure me that she did much better this time around.
"What the fuck do you mean she doesn't want to talk? Did you tell her it's me? Is her phone on? Did you check to make sure it's charged? Is she crying? Put her on the damn phone now!" What the fuck is this shit? She'll 'call me later'? What the fuck? Her brush off of me is a continuation of her mood from this morning but I thought we had moved past that? Maybe she's just upset again by her Krav lesson?
"Ryan, are her girlfriends at the house now? I don't want her alone."
"Yes, sir. Myers brought Ms. Kavanagh there an hour ago. The hairdresser is there now."
"He's been vetted? A background check has been completed?"
"Yes. All clean."
Elliot watches me expectantly, try as I might, the stress of the last few weeks is beginning to get to me and I know it's showing on my face.
"Run?" he says and I nod, stretching with Taylor for a few minutes. Nine miles later my mind is cleared, I've determined that the problem with Anastasia is her Krav lesson, and I've beaten Elliot by two laps. I'm happy.
"Kate and I are going to Bermuda with her family in a few weeks. Her entire family."
"So you've met her parents? I hear Old Man Kavanagh's a real peach."
Elliot scoffs into his beer and rolls his eyes.
"Yea, he's a fucking piece of work alright. Kate pretty much hates him though she hasn't said that much but it's obvious as fuck to me. Her moms gorgeous and really sweet and the guy does nothing but travel, with his mistresses, and there are many. I don't get it, you're fucking married asshole."
It's something I see regularly in my world. Men, powerful, wealthy, in control of huge worldwide conglomerates and they can't control where they put their dicks.
"I see it all the time, Elliot. You'd be surprised at how pathetic some men are when it comes to restraint."
"No, I wouldn't be, I see it too in my circle. I guess we just got lucky with dad. I mean, could you ever do that to Ana? Fuck some other woman while she was at home? Play her like the fool like that? Fuck that, I could never do that to Kate." There's an anger behind his words that surprises me, clearly this is about more than philandering men.
"No, I could never do that to Anastasia. I don't even want another woman, she's all I think about, all the time." I chuckle. "It's pathetic actually."
"No, it's not. It's love and it's great." He turns to me with a serious expression on his face. "I'm happy for you man. Really really happy for you." I swig my beer and look away, this conversation is a monumental effort on my part.
"Thanks. What's really bothering you about Kavanagh though?" He guffaws and chugs the bottle back, raising it for the bartender to bring him another.
"I'd never cheat on Kate. You know that, I know that. I'd never even put myself in a position that she could misconstrue as cheating but because of the way her dad is, she just can't buy into the fact that not all men are pigs. So even though I haven't even checked out a chick since I first laid eyes on her, she still has a hard time trusting me. It's bullshit. I get to pay the price for the sins of her father."
"What about Ethan? Is he like his dad?"
"Fuck no. That kid hates his dad more than Katie does. He hardly ever goes to visit and when he does, it's almost always when it's just the mom there. He's going to ask Mia to come to Bermuda with us." He laughs again and throws his hands up in exasperation.
"Can you fucking believe it? I'm finally in a relationship, with a woman that I love enough to go away, for two fucking weeks with, with her family, and my baby sister is going to be there as well. Go figure."
Now I'm laughing. "Hey, as long as it's you and not me!"
"Is Ms. Steele inebriated?" I've done my best to not breathe down securities neck and let Ana have a night with her girlfriends but I've hit my limit. I just want to ensure that she's safe...and that nobody is hitting on her.
"Yes, sir. Not too bad but enough."
"And you're taking her home now?"
"Yes."
"Put her on." I want to be with her tonight. I haven't been away from her overnight in almost two weeks and I have no intention of it now.
"Sir, she doesn't want to speak to you right now."
"What? What did she say?" What the fuck is going on?
"She said, and I'm quoting, 'Tell Mr. Grey to go fuck himself.'" The fury from before blazes bright as visuals of her ass, red with my handprints burst in front of me.
"Taylor, take me to Ana's apartment. Don't tell anyone we're coming."
When we pull up there are thankfully no paparazzi outside, I'd hate for them to see me pounding in there at one in the morning looking as pissed as I am right now. 'Go fuck myself'? Is she fucking kidding me? To one of my fucking employees no less.
"She's in her room." Prescott opens the door for me and I stride into the empty apartment, makeup and clothes everywhere, evidence that five women used the place to get ready in.
Ana's door is closed, the lights are out and there is silence but I burst in anyway, ready to confront her about her words. Until I see the crumpled tissues next to her pillow and the small body huddled under the blankets. What is going on with her?
The rage I felt is quickly replaced by sadness and trepidation. I strip to my boxers and climb in behind her, wrapping her in my arms and pulling her tightly against me. Even though she's sleeping she still pushes back into me before relaxing against me. I whisper against her hair, hoping that she feels the words I say.
"I'm here now, baby. I'll take care of you."