My dear little broccolis💚💚💚

💚 So, this story is dedicated to two particular authors with whom I have briefly touched on those issues, and who make amazing stories. paleseptember10 & Krooela. Go check them out, you won't regret it.

💚 Fallen Angel💚

How would have Christian Grey's life turned out if the Greys had intervened when Elena tried to sink her claws into him? Would he still be the same man as we know, or someone completely different ...

‼️Rated M - {Out Of Characters/All Human/Alternate Universe}‼️

‼️Romance/Angst/Drama/Lemons‼️

‼️AS/CG/The Greys/The Steeles/Jack Hyde/Elena Lincoln‼️

💚 READ & REVIEW, DON'T BE A SILENT READER 💚

Chapter 27:In Sin, There Is Holiness (3,7K)

Christian's Pov

‼️THIS IS A REPOST, LET ME KNOW IN THE REVIEWS IF YOU CAN READ IT‼️

If I thought that this week would end up finishing better than it started, I was on a delusional cloud. Ros had to fly at the last second to Shanghai to prevent a rival company that has been trying to sink us for years from doing a hostile takeover of one of our local branches. And I had to go to New York to remind some people who is the boss.

I rarely put myself in this position. Usually, I let Ros do it, not that she minds. She's more diplomatic than I am, and she at least tries to settle things down. I don't. I have no patience, and this has never been news to me. In my personal or professional life, I like when things go as fast as I plan them. Usually, when I intervene, heads are cut off and I start anew.

This is why I like eagerness over experience. Yes, it is always good to take someone who has years of experience and life wisdom, but they never come clean. They have their bad habits, their ways of seeing things and many people from the previous generation do take issue with taking orders from someone my age. I even had a few of them who even had issues with Ros. Whether it is her gender or her skin tone remains unclear, and I respected Ros when she told me to stay out of it and that she would deal with the idiots herself. Me intervening would undermine her authority, in her opinion.

All of this to say, employing someone straight out of college, or straight out of the streets has always been beneficial in my eyes. Yes, it is a long process, because we have to form them, but it also means they don't have to unlearn any bad habits they picked up somewhere else. I'd even say that the ones without diplomas are the most interesting ones and the ones I usually remark.

It's a trend I have noticed. Getting out of an IVY league school doesn't mean you can think quickly and on your feet. Andrea is the perfect example. She was a hairdresser, to begin with. She came as an intern as she was trying to study for a reconversion. She was at the reception, and I highly suspect that Jack hired her back then mostly because she was pretty. She's not my type, but I am not blind, I can tell when a woman is beautiful, even if she's blonde.

But just two weeks in I noticed that she was doing more than expected, and she was making my agenda seem smoother. It was at the beginning of the company when I was running on three hours of sleep and avoiding Grace as much as I could with her doom words such as burnout. So I quickly promoted her and she has never failed me since.

But anyway, since we're hitting a rough patch as of late, I had to spend the past two days in New York with Jack. Well, I mostly asked Jack to come so he could interview and replace the idiots I fired. The ten fucking idiots who thought that because I mostly stayed in Seattle and only bothered travelling when issues were abroad, they could do as they saw fit with my company.

But it's my fucking name on the fucking building. It's my fucking company that I started with my sweat and tears. And I'll kill anyone trying to burn it to the ground or trying to change its core values. I know that some of them go against the idealistic ways of capitalism, and I know that I could make shit loads more money if I did things some other ways. Like my all 'Buy-American', or the fact that I refuse to expatriate anyone and that we only hire locals.

I just don't think of the now and then. I think of the long term, and the impact, ecological or moral that it will leave down the line. I'm not going to pretend that I am humble enough to not want my name to be in future history books, like Ford or Disney. Just like many others have. But I don't want my name to be associated with the downfall of humanity or an ecological or economical crisis.

But all of those issues of the past couple of days mean that I didn't get to see my sweet Ana. Of course, I proposed that she comes with me to New York. I even have a place there, so she wouldn't feel so ridiculously self-conscious about the hotel. But she refused, under the pretence of work. And really …

She works for a small publishing company that I never heard of, and Mia works in this industry, so I know most of them. It's not like she can't ask to work remotely, take a couple of manuscripts and spend two days away with me. And yes, she is coming to Montreal with me, but I could have had her two days earlier.

We barely texted over those two days because of the time difference. Three hours might be nothing, but it's actually a lot when most of your day is being eaten by idiots who think they know better than you how to run your own fucking company.

Right now, I am waiting for Carrick at the Mile High, so we can have lunch together. It was supposed to be yesterday, but I had to reschedule for Thursday. He's not late, but I came straight here after landing, and I was highly tempted to cancel just so I could call Ana and have lunch with her instead. But I'll see her tonight, even if she doesn't know that.

I order some sparkling water and call Ros, knowing that she's not sleeping, despite the fact that it's literally the middle of the night on the other side of the globe.

"Aren't you supposed to be eating?"

"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" I retort and even though I can't see her, I know she smirked.

Ros is a very peculiar woman. A bit like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. She can be such a nice, sweet and considerate person when the doors are closed, but she never shows this side of her to our employees. In fact, it took Jack a while for him to see this side. She never jokes around them, and barely smiles. And yet, she's seen as more approachable than I am.

"I think Jack needs to come here, as well. I'm not sure but I think there is a mole. XE-Tech has too much info about us. They even know about our projects concerning Taiwan, and no one is supposed to know about that."

I let out a heavy sigh, wondering if this week will hold a single good news for me and I ask her, "What does Muchen say? I trust him."

"He thinks there is a mole as well, though he can't say for the life of him who it can be. He even tried to drop some fake news to the people he wasn't sure of, but nothing leaked."

I think about it for a moment. I don't really like the idea of sending Jack if I didn't get rid of the problem. And Muchen already tried to find a solution to our issue.

"What about XE-Tech? Did you try to shake them down?"

"No. You said you wanted diplomacy. Remember? That's why I'm here and not you."

I uselessly nod, rubbing my forehead before glancing up as I see my father being directed to my table and I let Ros know of my decision,

"Come back. I'll deal with it next week."

"Christian … You're not thinking of —"

"Yes, I am. I want that mole problem resolved, but I don't have time to wait around to shoot it down. I've been more than patient with XE-Tech. If they want to play, I'll show them how to fucking lose."

She's about to retort something, probably preaching reason and patience and all that sort of bullshit, but I shake my head, "No. I'll deal with it. Come back home and enjoy your weekend with your wife. I'll see you Monday."

Then I hang up and get up to greet Carrick who smiles at me, shaking his head at my phone,

"What would your mother say?"

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her. Don't go rat on me, I'll know."

He chuckles and sits in front of me, asking for a whiskey, which makes me raise an eyebrow at him. Dad rarely drinks during the day when he's working. Does this mean bad news for me?"

He notices my look and shakes his head reassuringly, "Don't worry. It's just been a rough week, and I'm finally done with a big case. I'm not that confident with the outcome of the jury deliberations."

"Welcome to the club," I mumble beneath, which makes my father laugh before he wisely says,

"Bad weeks are bound to happen. But if we didn't have those awful times, we wouldn't appreciate the great ones as much."

I repress myself from rolling my eyes, not in the mood for sweet moralising lessons and signal the waiter for him to come and take our order. Carrick barely looks at the menu and takes what he always takes when he comes here. Sometimes, he can be such an old man. Depending on the restaurant where he goes, he always takes the same thing, no matter what new exciting thing might be on the menu.

Then the waiter leaves us, knowing that I am going to take the chef's special, to see what's new and once we're alone, I ask straight up what's up with this lunch meeting.

"I thought I passed the age of lectures and the whole birds and bees talk."

Carrick smiles, seemingly surprised that I attacked the thing straight away. It is true that I usually do my best to avoid those kinds of talks. But I usually didn't have a week from Hell with no girlfriend to make me feel like it was all worth it.

"I just wanted to have a talk with you without your mother hovering around. She has taken this whole new step in your life a tad too seriously."

I glare at my glass of water, and remind him, "But it is serious."

"Of course. I'm just saying that she's already planning on having Ana on our Christmas cards, and I wanted to talk with my son without anyone around us going overboard."

Okay, Mom might be getting a tad overwhelmed with this whole Ana situation. I mean, summer has not even ended yet. Plus, though I know how I feel about Ana, and that I definitely would love nothing more but to spend Christmas with her, I don't know how she feels.

Yes, Martha said that flings usually didn't stick around when situations were as particular as I am, but still. Maybe she'll get tired of me soon enough. Or maybe she'll realise that she doesn't want to wait for me to get over my issues. Or … maybe we won't be sexually compatible.

Granted none of us had sex (well, consensual sex) before, maybe once we get there, we will realise that we don't like it with each other. It's not because I have seen countless scenes over the years and observed very carefully how to touch a woman to make sure she gets off that it means that I will manage to do it when the time comes.

"So? What do you want to talk about?" I ask him and Carrick sips on his drink, reminding me,

"I'm not a lawyer, here, Christian. I'm just a father looking out for his son. You don't have to get all defensive."

"Well, I don't recall you summoning Elliott when he made it official with Kate. Or Mia for her last pathetic boyfriend. Why do I get this treatment? Is it because of Ella and her pimp? Or is it because of Elena?"

"Neither. It's just because you are my son. I had a similar conversation with both Mia and Elliott when they had their first love. It's not because yours came later in life that it means that I should be robbed of that bonding moment."

His tone is calm and relaxing, but Carrick has learned to talk like that to me during my teen years when I thought that everything and everyone was against me and that they would blame me for anything wrong in their lives.

So I take a deep breath, reminding myself that I am no longer a kid and that I should try a little bit more often to see the glass half full. Our food arrives, a tad too quickly if you ask me, and once we're alone again, I let my father know,

"She's not my first love, Dad. She's my only. There won't be any after her."

I don't look up because I know what his eyes are going to say. How can I know? This isn't just my first love, this is also my first real relationship. It might go down in flames before I can even fully enjoy it.

But he doesn't say anything, and so I am forced to meet his gaze. He looks nostalgic for a moment. "You remind me of me when I met your mother. Starstruck, in love and naive."

"I'm not naive."

"But you are. So far you only see the positives of this thing you have with Ana. But whether it lasts or not, there will be downfalls. Especially given your position and her aspirations."

"What do you mean?" Ana never made an issue about me being a CEO. Yes, she jokes about it all the time, but she never brought it up as something that could damage her relationship.

"You're a public figure, Christian. No matter how much you want to deny it, you are in the public eye. Mia said that last weekend you were photographed with Ana and this is something that is bound to happen again. Doesn't Ana want to work for the FBI?"

"So what? I never said a thing against her career goal!" I say, obfuscated. Yes, I tease, and yes, sometimes I find her passion for serial killers morbid, to say the least, but that doesn't mean that I would ever come between her and her career. In fact, if she wasn't so much against nepotism, I would have made sure that she would be doing something more in line with what she wants to do rather than working in a publishing company.

"Christian …" I don't like his condescending tone. "The FBI values secrecy and the ability to blend in. Being in a public relationship with you doesn't really help her case."

I didn't think of that. Has Ana thought of that? She did seem slightly concerned when she saw the picture of us. At first, I thought it was because of the violation of our privacy. Then I thought maybe she was worried that her father would see the picture before she would get to tell him. But now … maybe she saw her dream job flush down the toilet.

"I don't want you to overthink this as you usually do, Christian. But know that being who you are, you have more responsabilités coming to you as a boyfriend."

I look at him, my brows furrowed and he sighs, putting his fork down on his plate. "I'm going to tell you what I've told both Elliott and Mia. I am an old man. I am from a different generation. I believe in holding the door for a woman. I believe in buying her flowers just for the sheer luck of making her smile. I believe in walking your date home, no matter how much of a detour it is for me.

But … I know that your generation doesn't always agree with mine. Don't think for a moment that I don't believe in the equality between men and women, but … there are some things that fall on men's shoulders and others on women's. Your mother has always relied on me to protect her, and I have always relied on her to emotionally support me. It doesn't mean that things didn't happen the other way around, but generally, it is how we see things.

So, as I told your siblings. Being a boyfriend isn't just about you and what you feel. It's an exchange. It's … physical, sexual and emotional. The feelings and grand gestures might be great now, but they're not what will last in the long run. It's the little things. Like knowing when she's upset without her having to tell you. Like fixing a broken lightbulb because you've noticed it was broken. Like listening to her vent because she's had a bad day. Like letting her help you out when you have a difficult task ahead. … as I said, the little things."

When he's finished, he resumes eating and for a couple of minutes, we eat in silence. I didn't expect that. I thought he was going to go all lawyer on me, talk about NDAs, and image and how I should be wary that she might be a gold digger. But instead … I just had some fatherly advice. And that's probably why I find myself telling him,

"She touched me Sunday night."

"Oh?"

"It did not go well. I … I hurt her." No matter what Ana and Martha say, I still can't get over the fact that I had hurt her. Yes, she dismissed the thing the very next second, but … she wouldn't have called out my name if she hadn't been in pain, to begin with.

"Is she holding it against you?"

"No. Of course not. She's been perfectly patient and considerate with me. Martha says that maybe … maybe something happened to her."

I was hoping for him to kill that ludicrous idea with factual lawyer-y facts, but nope. He nods, sipping on his water and says, "It is a possibility. But either way, it's not something you can force out of her. Do you think something happened to her?"

"No. But … there are a couple of things she'd odd about. And I'm not a social butterfly like Elliott, so maybe I missed a sign."

Carrick gently smiles at me, slightly shaking his head, "I forget that you're so different from Elliott and Mia sometimes. Stop second-guessing yourself. Just live a little. Follow your guts. It worked for your company, why wouldn't it work for this girl you love?"

It's only as he says that that I realise that I didn't even have to tell him that I love Ana. Is it fatherly wisdom, or am I being too obvious, I don't know. All I know is that I am grateful that I have this talk with him.

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

The day ends much later than I wanted, but that often happens to be fair. Elliott and Mia often joked that the office was my first home. Of course, that was before Ana. And right now, I am on my way to her place, putting into practise my father's wisdom about following my guts.

I mean, I know that Kate is pending the night at Elliott's because he whined to me that he wasn't allowed to come to pick up his woman at her place of work because of me. So it means Ana is alone with that Jose guy, guy with whom she shared a bed not even a month ago.

Even if she doesn't see anything in him, it doesn't mean he doesn't either. Who wouldn't he? She's a fucking gorgeous woman! I only slept with her twice and I can't wait to have her in my arms again. Any red-blooded man would want to have her for himself. Even Jack made an off comment on the fact that Ana was beautiful, as well as Ros. And I have to believe that Jose is the exception? Yeah, right!

So I am going to spend the night with Ana in my arms, and make sure that this Jose character knows that she's not his to take. She's my girl! In fact, if I can convince her to come sleep at my place, it will be even better.

I knock on the door, slightly annoyed when I recall that Elliott has the privileges of a spare key when I still don't, and I present a bouquet of flowers when the door opens. Unfortunately, it is not Ana who opens.

It is a ripped Latino man, slightly taller than me, with rebellious curls falling all over his face, a smirk on his stupid face with his five o'clock shadow. But what's worse than him answering the door of my girlfriend's flat, it's the fact that he is shirtless, his jeans hanging by some miracle since he has no belt, and his torso drenched with sweat.

"You either got the wrong flat or the wrong delivery. This isn't pizza," he says with a devil-may-care attitude, and all I want to do is punch his perfect white teeth.

❌PLEASE DO NOT COPY, DOWNLOAD OR SHARE THIS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE❌

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

💚Your thoughts and opinions are always welcomed💚

💚Joseeeeee! Yes! Finally! What do you think? Why is he shirtless and seemingly sweaty?

💚 What did you think of Carrick in this chapter?

💚 And what about Christian? Any worrisome thought you'd like to talk about?

💚Well, let me know what you thought of this chapter. What was your favourite part? What do you think will happen next?

💚 E L James owns the names of the characters from the Fifty Shades franchise, Everything else is mine (including the mistakes and grammar errors).

Love, Mina 💚💚💚