Chapter 1 – The agony, nine years ago

Westchester, New York

Ana

Amid it all, heavy watery eyes stare aimlessly across the room, my mind tramples over the events that led to this moment. Even if I'd designed it myself, this day couldn't be more perfect. It's the kind of day any young woman who has found the perfect partner would be content with . . . . . So why am I not happy? . . . .

I know why.

This isn't what I want.

I'm drowning inside, ready to scream out loud . . . But I'm not supposed to . . . . Pull yourself together, Ana, pull yourself together.

Behind my façade and my elegant makeup is someone who is about to give in. Today is the day when my soul dies, so in retrospect, this should be my funeral, not a wedding. My vision becomes clearer as I focus on my motionless reflection before a vintage full-length mirror, tears mixed with mascara flow incessantly, leaving an eerie blackened streak-stained mess on my cheeks but I make sure to dab the wetness before it spills onto the pristine dress, I'm enveloped in.

I look so beautiful, perfect. I don't deserve this. I set out to love him, not be like her, not like my mother.

I'm both petrified and muddled as my eyes trail to clenched, trembling fingers. The reflection in the mirror mimics a haunting and unrecognizable young woman. This should be a happy day, a day of bliss, and merriment. The conjoining of love between two families. Instead, I'm sinking in unremitting grief and my life is careening out of control.

I love him, I really do. . . .but I'm not ready to be anyone's wife.

"LEAVE US!"

From the corner of my eyes, I see them scuttle out of the room, funny how I thought I was alone all this time. Sure feels that way.

"ANATASIA . . ." she bites through gritted teeth.

I close my eyes and exhale slowly, I know my efforts are in vain, but if I can shut her out for a few seconds, it will be worth it.

She continues, "What are you doing?"

Her presence is daunting and her eyes are piercing me, I don't have to look at her to feel it.

"Anastasia, I'm asking you again. What are you doing?" she says angrily in a whisper. I open my eyes transfixed, and glare daringly at her face, she isn't amused.

"What am I doing?" I spit mockingly, "Or what am I not doing . . . ."

"For heaven's sake, not this again. And look at you, you've been crying, for what? Because you're not ready to get married?" she laughs sardonically, "We've already spoken about this, and agreed, Anastasia. You are going to marry that boy, today . . . In a few minutes as a matter of fact . . ."

"No" I retort dismissively.

Her eyes enlarge by the pitch of my heightened tone, "No?"

"No" I repeat firmly.

She scoffs and twists her lips scornfully, "Your father is dying may I remind you . . ."

"Leave him out of this . . ."

"No. I. Will. Not" She moves closer, narrowing her icy grey eyes and towering dangerously over me. "I wasn't ready to marry your father either, but we all do what is necessary to survive"

"I don't have to do that, I'm doing just fine, this is about you" I point, stabbing her chest.

She grabs my wrist forcefully and twists it mercilessly. The pain is crippling, and it almost sends my knees to the hardwood floors.

"Carla, stop" I sob wispy.

"You ungrateful fool . . . You will do as I say, or the consequences will be dire for both you and your father. . . . You know the only way out for your father is if you marry Christian Grey, do you?" her grip tightens, "DO YOU?"

"YES," I cry.

"Good, you're in this for the same reasons as I am. So don't pretend that you're so high and mighty and not doing this for his money, his family, or the security he can give you"

"I'm not . . . ."

"Shut up. We agreed to do this weeks ago, and now, at the last minute, your feeble conscience wants to make an attempt to supersede common sense and my plan. I have a good mind to . . . ."

We're startled by a small thud outside the door, and she finally releases my throbbing wrist which I clutch instantly. A well-manicured fingertip moves over her lips, gesturing for absolute silence. Delicately, she moves quietly and fastens her ear against the door, in a swift motion she turns the handle and hauls it open. No one is there or even prowling in the corridor, but I know I heard something. She shuts it and resumes the one-sided conversation.

"Now pull yourself together," she demands.

Awkwardly, I try to stretch my lace sleeve over my wrist to conceal the oncoming discoloration of her imprinted fingers.

"I'm sending Lana up here to fix this mess," she signals to my face, "and then, you're going to put on a smile with Carrick Grey on your arm and walk down that aisle. You think you have it bad now, I can think of worse if you don't go through with this . . . Defy me, and things won't be easy from here on".

She walks out of the room but the warning and coldness still loom around me, threatening to seep under my skin.

Everything within me caves, and it's official. She's won, and I let her beat me, this choice isn't my own. I'm nothing. A vessel without a voice. A pawn for my mother's survival, the key to continuing her lavish and luxurious way of life.

The temptation to leave everything behind beckons me from the outside, but what about Christian, he won't understand. I have nothing and almost no one. My father is dying and my boyfriend is expecting me to marry him, but it's all for the wrong reasons. I let this spiral out of control, I should have told him about her and this devious plot. I know he would stand with me despite the circumstances and if Daddy was around he wouldn't have condoned this either. Unfortunately, he's fighting for his life . . . . and I'm fighting for my right to choose.

Christian

Momentary murmurs wave through the guests with their accompanied looks of concern. My attention is drawn to a familiar face that's pale and her footsteps are quick, almost running along the side of the designated ceremony area. Quickly I make my way past my groomsmen and accompany her to a private room down the corridor. When I enter she's seated and pouring a glass of water with trembling hands. My eyes are overflowing with worry, the woman is breathing like she just ran a marathon to get here. In the back of my mind, I'm anxious, screaming for her to speak now but I give her a minute to compose herself.

She takes a mouthful and exhales, placing the glass on the small table before her.

"I couldn't find Ana, so I went to the dressing room"

"Yes," I prompt.

"Carla was furious, I couldn't hear everything, but I heard her say something about a plan they both agreed on to marry you for money.. . . . I'm so sorry son . . ."

"Go on," I instruct.

"I believe the Steeles are losing their social standings in society, I've been hearing talk of looming bankruptcy, but I didn't believe it. I thought it was cheap gossip, besides, Samantha was perturbed when you overlooked her Elaine as a viable match for you, so when she brought it to my attention I ignored her, thinking that . . . "

"Mother, Elaine Watkins is stunningly beautiful and intelligent, however, she's very narcissistic and sensationally selfish. Beauty has a way of covering flaws effortlessly . . ." I sneer, "Unfortunately I couldn't tell the difference with Anastasia either".

"Don't blame yourself, Christian, we were all swindled by the Steeles, thinking this alliance would have been fruitful enough to make our families the most powerful force in this city".

She pauses, long enough that I understand she is mounting the courage to suggest, one that I may not agree with.

"Are you going ahead with this alliance?" she asks with my back facing her "I believe you shouldn't, this whole thing is a sham, based on lies and empty promises. Think about what we'll have to face after you consummate that farce of a marriage, her and her mother's demands, their entitlements . . ."

"NO," I spit out, "Go announce to the guests that there will be no wedding".

"Christian wait, there's a proper way to attend to these matters, we should . . . ."

"HANDLE IT" I bark, taking long strides away from her.

"STOP" she commands, matching my tone, I halt immediately "Don't be so hasty, you were about to marry the girl, this is not the way to handle such things . . ."

"You're absolutely right, Mother, I was about to marry her before you found out her true intentions before she could make a fool of me. . . . Before she could ruin all our lives" I raise my chin slightly, "This is the price she and her wretched mother will have to pay for their trickery, being humiliated and rejected by our family. It will send a message that the Greys are not to be used or trifled with, we were so bold on the day of my wedding, that I rejected this alliance at the last minute after discovering their disgusting plot. They will be humiliated, and driven out of this city, which is much much less than they deserve, for her deceit, she will never receive a suitable match . . . . never"

My mother shudders under my fierce gaze, it's enough to snap me out of my rage.

"I've nothing more to add, I'll take my leave, Mother", I say softly, turning on my heels.

"Christian, please, wait" she beckons, but I don't respond.

Before I can reach the door handle, it opens suddenly, bumping hard against the door jam. It's my father with a confused expression on his face, I shake my head immediately, curtailing any questions that he may have on the tip of his tongue.

"Grace, what's going on?" he enquires, "Christian . . . Christian" he bellows as I retreat.