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 61: Broken Angel (1,7K)
Christian's PoV
For the past two months, life has been… easy. Surprisingly, blissfully easy. That just shows that talking goes a long way in a relationship. Things had been tense since the gala at my parents', but from the moment I told Ana what was really going on and was open with her, it was all better.
She insisted for me to see Martha and talk about the whole issue so I could have an unbiased opinion, and it was ugly. I didn't mention the surprise to Martha during all those months because it didn't seem relevant, but maybe I should have. Words such as emotional affair were thrown out, and I didn't like it one bit. There was also the whole thing about fulfilling a childhood fantasy, but though I find Gia attractive, I never thought for even a second to act on it. It's the same as Ana drooling over those British actors she sees on TV.
But still, I can see how Ana can see it and how I would have perceived it the same if it had been me wondering. And I would have been much less conciliant than Ana.
So to break the ice, I proposed for her to meet Gia. And it went surprisingly well. So well that they go on lunch dates now, and they are planning a girls' weekend with Kate and Mia. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Ana should spend her free time with me, not in Hawaii getting tan-lined for all pervs to see. But I'm not really in a position to argue against that.
Just like I am not in a position to refuse seeing José. He came to our place to have dinner a couple of weeks ago, and though I know I shouldn't, I just can't help but be jealous. I just know that if I were in his position, I would want to be in Ana's pants, whether I grew up with her or not.
And there is also the way Ana is always more... relaxed with him around. I don't know, it just bugs me. So later that night, when she was beneath me, skin flushed, my name breaking past her lips, I made sure she remembered exactly who she belonged to.
But anyway, the distance that I felt after Valentine's Day is gone. Ana is all cuddly with me, planning museum visits, trips to the bookstores (endless trips), and she's been home every night since then.
Right now, she is humming in the kitchen while making dinner, completely off-key, dancing in one of my shirts, barefoot. I pretend not to notice, but I do. Every once in a while, she likes to cook, and sometimes I join her. Today, I am just watching whilst working on my laptop, the situation at work becoming more and more bothersome. If only I knew who was this mole and why they were acting the way they did. Nothing makes sense. It doesn't seem to be about money because some moves were clearly to undermine me. It's... unsettling.
She's whisking egg white into snow, her body shaking delicately when she tells me, as if nothing,
"So I was thinking..."
"Yeah?"
"Maybe I should use this weekend to bring the rest of my stuff here? I mean, I know I don't actually need them, but... I'd feel more at home with all my stuff and not just the extravagant things you've bought."
I stop what I'm doing and look at her, completely forgetting about my laptop, GEH, work... anything that isn't her. Finally, she is agreeing to make this place her home. Our home. She just said the words, and I am on cloud nine.
"Do you really mean that?"
"No. I just said that as a joke." She rolls her eyes, turning her back on me to pour the yolks in her mixture, and in the blink of an eye, I am behind her, kissing her neck as I take her in my arms.
"Christian!" she shrieks, laughing as I make her twirl.
"You just made me the happiest man on earth."
She leans to kiss me, still up in my arms, and I deepen the kiss, ready to have my way with her right here, right now. Fuck that stupid mole. My girlfriend finally agreed to officially move in with me. Who cares about anything else?
She chuckles but breaks our embrace as she says, "I'm actually making a cake. Be patient, and I'll let you bind me and have your wicked way with me, Sir."
"Ana," I growl. I mean, one should not play with a man's nerves and desire like that.
She smirks and puts her mixture in the oven before disappearing for a brief second. When she comes back, she is wearing leggings underneath my shirt and holding her wallet.
"I just need to pop to the store to buy strawberries."
"We don't need strawberries. We need to have you laying on that kitchen counter and taking my cock in like a good girl."
"I want my celebratory cake to be perfect. And perfect goes with strawberries."
I roll my eyes and walk to her. "Give me five minutes, and you'll have your strawberries then."
"Are you saying that you intend on lasting only five minutes? I don't intend to orgasm in just five minutes."
Well, she struck my ego. Now it will last for hours when I finally get to touch her. I sigh with a grumble, and as I leave the kitchen, she stops me.
"I will be quick, and you look out for the cake. You need to take it out in five minutes."
I glare at her, and as she gets to the elevator, I tell her, "Bring Sawyer with you."
"Yeah, yeah."
She's already in the elevator, and I sigh with frustration. What's the harm in having Sawyer with her? I don't care if the shop is nearby. She can go to the gym downstairs, Sawyer should be with her.
Five minutes after she's gone, I take her cake out, and it smells amazing. A mix of cake and vanilla. But I can't wait to have it in my mouth yet. And I can't wait to have her for dessert. I want to have a bite, but then she won't have her perfect cake, and I don't want to risk being punished and deprived of sex... Listen to me, I am completely pussy-whipped.
I wait, barely paying attention to work, and when thirty minutes have gone, I call her to see where she went to pick her strawberries. But her phone rings in the kitchen. I try to ease this uneasy feeling inside of me, but after five more minutes, I go knock on the security's door and ask Sawyer to go after her. It's better if I stay in case she comes back.
It takes forever for Sawyer to call me and tell me that he is bringing her home, and the tone of his voice presages nothing good. I pace in front of the elevator until they come, and I see the worst thing of my life—Ana, battered and bruised.
Something inside me snaps. My hands curl into fists, my pulse roaring in my ears. Her nose is bloody, her hair tousled as if it was pulled, bruises forming around her neck. I can't look at her.
I barely hear Taylor, Sawyer, and Mrs. Jones questioning her, asking if they should take her to the hospital, asking if she needs anything. All I can hear is the blood pumping in my ears. Who did this? Who dared touch her?! But then again, none of this would have happened if...
"You left without Sawyer," I say, my voice flat, empty.
Her breath stutters as the staff leaves us some privacy. "Christian—"
"This could have been avoided." My voice is sharp, cutting. "If you had just listened. I told you not to go out without him. Countless times."
Her lips part. Her voice is barely a whisper. "Are you saying this is my fault?"
I don't hesitate. "Of course."
She flinches like I hit her. For a second, guilt claws at my chest, but it drowns beneath the fear, the helpless rage I can't swallow down. She could have been hurt much worse.
"I'm going to give you one chance to take that back," she says softly, trembling. "And apologize."
I say nothing, my eyes unforgiving. Doesn't she realize how bad this is?
She waits. One heartbeat. Then another. And then she lets out a loud sigh, getting up and turning her back to me. "Fine. I'm going to bed."
But she doesn't go to our bedroom. She sleeps in one of the guest rooms instead.
And I let her. I don't think she realizes how bad this is, how lucky she is to be alive, and that this could have been avoided if she had just listened to me.
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
When I wake up in the morning, the bed is cold—too cold, if you ask me. I thought that she would have seen reason in the middle of the night and come back to me. Can't she see that I care for her and only fear for her life?
With a sigh, I get up, ready to be the bigger man and take a step toward her, and so I go to the room she slept in. But she's nowhere in sight. Maybe she's already up. I hope she managed to sleep some at least.
I go to the kitchen, where Mrs. Jones is whispering with Taylor and Sawyer, but Ana isn't there. I try to call her, but her phone is exactly where she left it yesterday when I tried to call her.
Something inside me twists. I look at my staff. I don't have to ask for them to know what I want to know, and so Sawyer clears his throat, handing me the key card for the elevator as he tells me,
"She left."
The words don't compute. "What?"
"She left."
A sharp breath. "You were supposed to stop her."
His expression doesn't change. "You pay me to keep her safe, not keep her in a golden cage." A beat. "And she said she wasn't feeling safe here anymore."
It hits like a gunshot to the chest.
I stare at him, my stomach dropping.
I have never felt this empty.
❌PLEASE DO NOT COPY, DOWNLOAD OR SHARE THIS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE❌
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
💚Your thoughts and opinions are always welcomed💚
💚 So ... I guess you're all hating me right now ... Especially with that last sentence from Sawyer ...
💚 But what did you think?
💚 And don't forget, the first two books of From Duty to Love are out now! It would mean the world to me if you could check them out and support my journey. 💖
💚 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 💚💚💚