Chapters of Trust
by
Ava LeBeau
Ten
"I believe it has significant potential, but I wanted to get your thoughts before moving forward," Christian said, adjusting his tie ever so slightly under his father's unrelenting stare.
Carrick raised an eyebrow, leaning forward in his chair. The backdrop of his office was filled with bookshelves and framed photographs—reminders of their family legacy but devoid of warmth. "You're talking about that AI-driven startup? What makes you think they're worth our time?"
"Exactly," Christian confirmed, pulling up a presentation on his screen to share with Carrick. "They've shown impressive growth in their early stages and have secured some notable partnerships already."
As he spoke, he could see Carrick's expression shift from slight interest to skepticism and his stomach clenched. "You know how volatile tech investments can be, Christian. What makes this one different from all the others that have failed?"
"Their business model is solid—they're addressing real market needs rather than chasing fleeting trends. Plus, their leadership team has a proven track record in previous ventures."
"That's all well and good, but what about the financials? Have you looked into their burn rate? How long until they reach profitability?"
"Yes," Christian replied confidently, shifting in his executive chair, his platinum gaze fixated on the video screen in front of him. "Their current burn rate is manageable given their funding rounds so far. They project profitability within two years if they continue on this trajectory." He paused for effect before adding, "And I believe our investment could help accelerate that process."
Carrick studied his son intently through the screen, his icy blue eyes piercing. "You're passionate about this; I can see that. But passion alone doesn't guarantee success, Christian. What's your strategy for recouping our investment if things go south?"
Christian took a deep breath. "Well, if we invest now, we could position ourselves for a lucrative exit when they are acquired. The market's ripe for consolidation… plus, they've already attracted interest from larger firms."
Carrick leaned back in his chair, arms crossed tightly. "That's a calculated risk, but you know how unpredictable these markets can be. Have you considered diversifying your investment?"
"I have, father," Christian replied, feeling the pressure mount. "But I genuinely believe in their potential. Sometimes you have to take bold risks to achieve significant returns."
"Bold risks come with consequences," Carrick shot back, his tone cold and businesslike. "I don't want you rushing into this because it feels right."
"I appreciate your concern, father," Christian said firmly. "But I've done my homework—market research, competitor analysis, and discussions with industry experts who are optimistic about their future."
After a moment of silence, Carrick leaned forward again, steepling his fingers, his expression calculating. "Alright then. If you're convinced this is the right move, I'll support you—but let's set strict benchmarks along the way. Regular check-ins on performance metrics will keep us accountable."
Christian felt a surge of relief mixed with determination. "Absolutely. I'll have a timeline prepared."
"Good," Carrick replied curtly. "Just remember: in this game, sentiment doesn't matter—results do." He paused briefly before adding, "Make sure you deliver."
With that final note hanging in the air like a challenge, Christian nodded sharply. "Understood."
Carrick's gaze was steady, his voice flat. "Your mother wants you for dinner tomorrow."
"Can't. I'm heading to New York today."
"Then at least give her a call."
"Sure." Christian rubbed the back of his neck, maintaining Carrick's cold stare. "Thanks, father."
Carrick offered a brief nod, his expression unreadable. "Safe travels."
As the call ended and his father's image faded from the screen, Christian felt both the weight of expectation and a renewed sense of purpose driving him forward.
On his desk, his phone buzzed insistently. A wave of irritation washed over him, when he glanced at the screen and saw Leila's name flashing. With a sigh, he swiped to answer.
"What do you want, Leila?" he asked, his tone sharp and devoid of warmth.
"Christian," she began, her voice trembling. "I just need to talk. I miss you so much."
He clenched his jaw, leaning back in his chair, raking his fingers through his hair. "This isn't a good time. I'm busy."
Before she could respond, he typed an email to Jack Hyde:
Let's finalize the investment details before my trip to New York.
He hit send without hesitation; this partnership was crucial, and he needed Jack on board—now more than ever. The stakes were high, and Grey couldn't afford any distractions or delays. He knew that with Jack's expertise and their combined resources, they could make the new project a success. As he stared at the screen, waiting for Jack's reply, Leila's voice came again.
"Please," she pleaded, her voice cracking. "I know things ended badly, Christian, but can't we at least try to work things out? I can't stop thinking about yo—."
"Thinking about me won't change anything, Leila," Christian snapped, cutting her off. "We're done. You need to accept that."
Leila's breath hitched as she fought back sobs. "But I love you. Why can't you see that? I'll do anything to make it right again."
For a moment neither of them spoke, Christian toyed with the Montblanc Meisterstück fountain pen that lay in front of him, twirling it a couple of times before he sucked in a deep breath.
"I… I know you love me, Christian…," her voice was barely above a whisper and he hated her for being so weak and pathetic. "I don't have to be The One, you know. I'd gladly be just one of your girls…"
Christian's coldness only intensified. "Love is nothing but an illusion, Leila. I warned you not to fall for me." His voice was unyielding. "You should have known better than to get attached."
There was a long pause on the other end, and he could hear her soft cries breaking through the silence. "I just… I don't understand why you're being like this," she sobbed, desperation lacing her words.
"Because I don't have time for your emotional baggage and drama," he replied bluntly. "You need to move on and stop clinging to something that was never real."
With that final statement hanging heavily in the air, Christian pushed the end call button without waiting for a response, his expression hardening as he set the phone down. He couldn't afford distractions—not now.
"You did what?" José's voice rose slightly, betraying his frustration. "You gave it to him?"
"I thought it might help with the whole thing," Anastasia replied, crossing her arms. "I haven't heard from him in days… and I'm really worried about what he's up to."
"And so you go and reward him with something special?" Jose shook his head, struggling to contain his emotions. "That book was meant for you, Ana. It was a gesture of friendship—something meaningful."
"I know that," Anastasia snapped back, her own frustration bubbling over. "But I don't want to deal with Grey's nonsense anymore. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for peace."
"Sacrifices?" Jose echoed incredulously. "What about your happiness? You're giving away pieces of yourself to someone who doesn't deserve it."
Ana softened at his words but felt cornered. "Listen, José… It's not like I wanted to hurt you or anything…"
"It feels like you don't value what we have," he said quietly, his eyes flickering when he looked at her.
The tension hung thick between them as they stood in silence. Anastasia felt a pang of regret; she hadn't realized how deeply this would cut.
"You're right… maybe I should have kept it," she finally admitted. "I'm sorry."
José let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "You know what? Forget it." He turned sharply on his heel, frustration radiating from him as he stormed out of the shop without another word, leaving Ana standing there with a heavy heart and unresolved tension lingering in the air.
The ring of her phone dragged her out of her racing thoughts. Her gaze darted to the display, her insides clenching when she saw the name flickering across the screen.
"Now, speak of the devil," she muttered, hesitating as she picked up her phone, uncertain whether she should answer the call at all.
Sorry, swamped all day. I'm in on the investment, dude. Where you at?
Christian grinned to himself, typing back quickly,
Just heading to a meeting. Let's grab some drinks and celebrate when I'm back in town.
The lush interior of the limo was a cocoon of luxury, the soft hum of its engine mingling with the distant sounds of downtown New York outside as Sawyer navigated the bedlam traffic with care. Christian relaxed back into the leather seat, his phone now casually pressed to his ear. The city lights flickered past the tinted windows, casting fleeting shadows across his face.
The phone rang once, twice, each ring stretching the moment into eternity; Christian arched his brow.
"Yes?" Anastasia said all of a sudden.
Christian sat up slightly and smiled. "Hey, Anastasia," he said, his voice smooth and confident.
"Just Ana," she insisted and he wondered if she was rolling her eyes when he heard her draw in a deep breath.
"Okay… hey, Ana," he tried again and smirked.
"Hi."
Grey really wished she was more talkative.
"I just wanted to thank you for the photo book, Ana. This was… unexpected."
"Glad you liked it."
"Rodriguez is rather talented," he said, forcing the words out despite the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. He hated admitting it, but he thought it might make him seem more agreeable—even if deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was far superior in every way.
Anastasia bit her lip to stifle a chuckle, wondering if Grey knew just how much José despised him. "He is, isn't he? Anyway, I didn't expect to hear from you."
"I'm not keeping you or anything?" That muscle in his jaw jumped.
A beat passed before her tone shifted to what could only be playful sarcasm. "Oh wait, are you actually calling to confess you forgot to inform me that the demolition company will be here tomorrow morning or something? Because I was starting to think you were losing interest in my bookshop and plotting to bulldoze another building."
Christian raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement breaking through his otherwise stoic demeanor. He couldn't help but smile. "I assure you, my intentions are far less sinister, Ana. How about dinner and a movie sometime soon? Just a laid-back meal—nothing too fancy. I'd love to find a time that works for both of us."
"Right," she replied teasingly. "Because nothing screams trustworthy like inviting someone over for a movie night. Out of the blue. What's next? A blindfold and a white, unmarked van?"
Grey smirked, glancing at his dress watch, "No, not really."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"You're not a serial killer or something, right?"
Christian chuckled huskily, "Well, I truly believe it's important to keep your options open." He paused for mere effect, grinning. "...but no, I'm afraid I'm not. Besides, I'm not the one to lure unsuspecting victims," he said, trying to keep the conversation light despite the ticking clock.
"Yeah, sure thing," she teased and he was certain that this time she was rolling her eyes.
"I promise it'll be more fun than that."
"Okay, great answer," Anastasia laughed on the other end. "But guess what? I'm more interested in substance than showboating. So what's the plan? Discussing your stock portfolio over some takeout from your favorite overpriced restaurant whilst watching 'Wall Street'?"
"You know what? Sounds perfect to me," Christian chuckled again while the limo slowed down in front of an upscale restaurant where Ros stood waiting outside, checking her watch.
"Geez," Ana groaned; Christian smirked.
"Alright, think about it, Ana," he said quickly before hanging up. "I'll send you the details."
Just then, the limo came to a stop. Outside, the cool night air brushed against his face as he fastened the top button of his suit jacket. He flashed a confident smile at Ros.
"You're late," Ros exclaimed as Sawyer closed the door behind Christian.
"Just wrapping up some calls," he replied with a wink, trying to defuse Ros's irritation as they walked toward the entrance of the restaurant.
The elegant ambiance of L'Étoile d'Or enveloped Christian and Ros as they entered the renowned restaurant, its soft lighting casting an inviting glow over the polished wood and crisp white tablecloths. The air was rich with the scent of fresh seafood, and the gentle hum of conversation created an inviting atmosphere.
Christian adjusted his cufflinks, his expression cool and composed, but Ros could sense a sudden tension radiating from him. She glanced at him sideways, noting how his brow furrowed slightly as he pulled out his phone to check yet another email.
"Everything alright?" she asked, her voice smooth and melodic, cutting through the ambient noise.
He looked up briefly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just some last-minute details for tomorrow's presentation," he replied tersely, slipping the phone back into his pocket.
Ros nodded, picking up on the underlying strain in his tone. "You know, sometimes it helps to step away from it all for a moment. We're here to enjoy dinner with our partners, after all."
Christian's lips twitched in what might have been a smile if he weren't so preoccupied. "Right," he conceded, though his silvery gaze drifted back to the entrance where their partners were arriving.
As they settled into their seats at the table—an exquisite arrangement adorned with delicate flowers—Ros took a moment to observe Christian more closely. As always, he was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame. Yet tonight, there was an air of distraction about him that she couldn't ignore.
"Listen, let me take care of this," she said, softly touching his elbow as their partners began to arrive. She turned her attention to the men with her signature charm, effortlessly engaging them in conversation about recent industry trends while subtly drawing Grey back into the fold.
"Christian has been working tirelessly on our latest project," she said with a bright smile, glancing at him encouragingly. "I'm sure he has some insights to share."
"Yes," he drawled. "We've been analyzing market shifts and consumer behavior extensively."
Their clients leaned in closer, intrigued by Grey's sudden engagement. Ros watched as he spoke with authority about their findings, but she could still see flickers of distraction in his eyes whenever he glanced at his phone.
"Christian," she interjected smoothly when there was a lull in the conversation, "I think it's fascinating how you've been able to identify those emerging trends. It really sets us apart from our competitors.
He met her gaze, and for a moment, the tension etched across his features seemed to ease. "Thank you, Ros. I appreciate that."
"It's refreshing to see such foresight in this industry," one of their clients remarked, clearly impressed, raising his glass. "To innovation."
"To innovation," they echoed, clinking glasses as laughter filled the air.
As the first course arrived—an exquisite tuna tartare—Ros took a moment to savor the flavors while her gaze drifted to Christian. He picked at his food, his mind still seemingly elsewhere. She leaned closer, lowering her voice so only he could hear.
"Hey," she said gently, "if it's too much tonight, just let me know. I can handle things here."
Christian looked at her with a mixture of gratitude and resolve, his jaw tightening. "I appreciate that, Ros, but we have a job to do tonight," he replied firmly, pushing aside any hint of distraction. "We're going to get a buy-in from them."
Ros smiled knowingly but didn't press further. Instead, she shifted her focus back to their clients. "So tell us more about your recent expansion plans," she prompted one of them, effortlessly drawing everyone into a lively discussion about growth strategies.
As they spoke, Christian maintained his professional demeanor, engaging with their partners and sharing insights with confidence. He expertly navigated the conversation while internally grappling with the email from Andrea that had disrupted his evening—a quick update about the development project back home in Seattle that had unexpectedly bounced due to unforeseen regulatory issues. It appeared that critical permits had fallen through at the last minute, jeopardizing not just their timeline but also their financial standing.
A sense of foreboding was twisting in his gut, but Grey couldn't share that burden with Ros now; it wasn't the right time or place. Instead, he pushed through the evening with practiced nonchalance, answering questions and offering ideas as if everything were perfectly fine. Yes, Christian Grey had been raised to deliver, to always be on point. Seattle's whizz kid wouldn't disappoint, no matter how much it was eating away at him inside.
Yet every so often, Ros caught Christian glancing at his phone or quickly tapping away at it under the table. She could sense something was off but respected his boundaries.
As their main course—a beautifully plated halibut—was served, she said. "You've been quiet about your thoughts on our upcoming project timeline, Christian. What are you thinking?"
He straightened slightly and cleared his throat as he shoved the phone back into his pocket. "I think we need to ensure that our milestones align with the market trends we discussed earlier," he replied, his tone professional and measured. He gestured toward the others at the table, inviting them to weigh in.
As they engaged in a spirited discussion about timelines and deliverables, Christian forced himself to focus on the conversation, but beneath his composed exterior, his stomach churned with frustration over the Seattle setback. The thought of the investment slipping through his fingers was infuriating, especially when he had worked so hard to secure it.
He pushed his fork through the halibut on his plate, taking small bites while maintaining an air of confidence. To anyone watching, Christian Grey appeared completely at ease, but inside, he felt a tight knot forming. All of a sudden the exquisite food tasted bland; it was as if his senses were dulled by the weight of his worries.
Ros continued to lead the conversation with ease, her enthusiasm infectious as she shared ideas for future projects. Christian had always appreciated her ability to keep things light and engaging no matter how much pressure they were under. Yet tonight, he found it increasingly difficult to match her energy as thoughts of regulatory hurdles and financial implications loomed large in his mind.
"Tell me, Christian," one of their partners said, pulling him back into the moment. "What do you think about expanding our outreach strategy? I know you have some experience in that area."
"Absolutely," Grey replied, subtly pressing his palm against his stomach, a fleeting gesture meant to soothe the discomfort, all while maintaining a composed smile. "We should consider leveraging digital platforms more effectively. It's crucial for reaching new demographics." He spoke confidently, even as he felt a wave of nausea wash over him.
The conversation flowed around him like a current, and he swam along with it, determined not to let anyone see how rattled he truly felt. He glanced at Ros occasionally; her smile was reassuring, grounding him amidst the chaos swirling in his mind.
"Let's make sure we follow up on these ideas next week," he insisted as dessert plates were set before them. "I think we have a solid foundation to build on." He took a deep breath and reminded himself that this dinner was vital for their business relationships. He needed it to go smoothly; there was too much at stake.
The group nodded in agreement, and Christian forced one of his flawless smiles, even as his stomach twisted uncomfortably once more. The laughter and chatter around him felt distant, like he was watching from behind a glass wall.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the dinner came to a close. Their clients stood to leave, exchanging pleasantries and compliments about the evening. Christian managed to keep up appearances, shaking hands and thanking everyone for their time.
"Excuse me for just a moment," he said abruptly, stepping away from the group before anyone could question him, and strode toward the exit.
Outside, the limousine already waited for him, Sawyer was quick to open the door as Christian approached.
"We're waiting for Ros," he said before he slid into the back, taking a moment to collect himself before reaching for his phone, quick dialing Andrea's number in Seattle. The line rang a few times before she picked up, her voice steady and professional as always.
"Good evening, Mr. Grey," she greeted him. "How did the dinner go, sir?"
"Andrea, it went well enough, thank you. I just wanted to check in on the investment project," he said, trying to keep his voice calm despite the tension coiling in his chest, but it was low and strained; he motioned for Sawyer to close the door, he didn't want anyone overhearing him.
"There are some issues arising regarding regulatory compliance," she replied without hesitation. "We've encountered unexpected challenges that may affect our timeline."
Grey felt a wave of annoyance wash over him and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose while he squeezed his eyes shut for a second. "What kind of issues?" he asked, trying to maintain control over his rising irritation.
"There are new regulations that have been introduced which could impact our current strategy. I'm coordinating with the legal team to assess the implications and will provide you with a detailed report shortly," she explained.
"Great," he said, though the word felt hollow against the backdrop of his mounting misgivings. "How serious is it?"
"Mark from Legal says it's too early to determine the full extent, but recommends we prepare for potential delays and consider alternative strategies," Andrea advised, her tone unwaveringly professional. "He's going to reach out to Ms. Matteo and your brother, sir."
Christian rubbed the back of his neck. "Understood. Please keep me updated as soon as you have more information, Andrea."
"Of course, sir. I'll make sure you receive all relevant updates promptly," she assured him before ending the call.
Grey let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. The day was becoming increasingly complicated, and he couldn't shake the feeling that things were spiraling out of control. He needed to find a way to navigate these challenges—and fast.
"There you are," Ros exclaimed when Sawyer opened the car door for her, her smile brightening her features.
"Sorry about that," Christian said, forcing a smile as she joined him. "Just needed a moment."
Ros studied him for a brief second, concern flickering across her face before she masked it with professionalism again. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," he replied quickly, dismissing her worry with a wave of his hand. "Just had to take care of something." He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to breathe deeply and steady his pounding heart as adrenaline pumped through his body.
Ros turned slightly in her seat, her expression shifting from lighthearted to serious. "Christian, is everything really okay? You seemed off during dinner."
He opened his eyes and forced another smile, though it felt strained. "Just some stress about Seattle," he admitted quietly. "We hit some regulatory snags with the development project."
Ros's brow furrowed as she leaned forward. "Oh? The neighborhood project?"
He nodded, clenching his jaw.
"What kind of snags?"
Christian hesitated for a moment before deciding to share more. "The permits fell through last minute. We need to figure out how to address it before it spirals completely out of control." He rubbed his temples lightly, hoping to alleviate some of the tension that had built up there.
Ros nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "That's tough. Do you have a plan?"
"I'm working on it," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
"Alright."
"I'm considering flying back to Seattle to get a better handle on things. Taylor's already on it, and I want to leave as soon as possible."
"Do you think that's necessary?" Ros asked, lightly touching his shoulder. "You have a full schedule here tomorrow. I mean, we can manage things from here if needed."
"I know we can," Christian replied, feeling the leaden weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. "But I want to be there in person—to strategize with the legal team and ensure we're prepared for whatever comes next."
Ros nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Alright. If you think it's best."
As they drove through the city streets illuminated by neon lights and bustling nightlife, Christian shifted in his seat again, trying to find a position that would ease his discomfort. He leaned forward slightly and pressed a hand against his abdomen, hoping that would help settle things down.
"Do you want me to help with anything?" Ros offered gently.
"No," he replied quickly, perhaps too quickly. "I've got it under control." He didn't want her worrying about him; she had enough on her plate with her own responsibilities and his now changed schedule.
"Okay, but just know I'm here if you need anything," she said, her tone encouraging.
"Thanks, Ros," he said appreciatively. "I'll need all hands on deck for this one."
As they discussed logistics and next steps, Christian felt a flicker of determination, however, it was quickly overshadowed by doubt. He knew he had to face these challenges, but the thought of returning to Seattle tonight filled him with unease.
A/N:
Hey there, lovelies, I just wanted to take a moment to say a huge thank you for all your amazing feedback and reviews. You are the best. Seriously, though—what made you think dear Christian might be having a heart attack or something? Haha. I'm dying to know your thoughts, so please let me know in the reviews.
And let's be real—Fifty is definitely in need of some extra loving snark and attention from Ana with all this stress and tension brewing. The poor thing could use a little TLC.
Thanks again for being such an awesome part of this journey. Can't wait to hear what you think. x