Hello, Gentle Reader!

This story has been custom written for Snezhana, a very special member of the FB group, FSOG Fanfic Followers. Earlier in the year we held a contest for the 7th Anniversary of the group and Snezhana won a custom crafted fic. She has graciously allowed me to share the story with you.

She asked for: 1) a story set after the first book, 2) Ana does not communicate with Christian after the belt incident, 3) Ana discovers she is pregnant, but does not tell Christian, 4) an unhinged Christian reacts very badly to learning he's a father, 5) multiple complications, and 6) HEA. I endeavor not to disappoint Snezhana, or you, Dear Reader. I trust you'll let me know whether or not I have fulfilled Snezhana's request.

There may be times when you dislike Ana or Christian and that's as it should be. By the end of this long story, I hope you'll be happy with their progress.

Many thanks to Carol222 and nikkistew2 for the best story consultations. You have shared your knowledge and insight with great kindness and generosity.

All the best, Paula

Chapter 1

Christian

Shitty weekends always led to shitty Mondays.

Christian Grey hadn't had a decent weekend or tolerable Monday since Anastasia Steele had left him.

It had been nearly a year since he'd taken the belt to her and she'd headed for the proverbial hills. She'd taken his sex life with her when she left, leaving him perpetually on edge.

On this Monday, due to Mrs. Jones' absence, he'd been forced to eat a breakfast of cold muesli and banana.

"Mr. Grey, are you ready?" Luke Sawyer, the newest member of the CPO team, stood before him, grinning and eager to serve.

"Of course. When am I not?" He snapped, without a care of coming across as rude or surly. He strode quickly to the elevator, with Sawyer only a step behind. "When will Taylor return?"

"Late afternoon or early evening," the young CPO said. "I'll be with you all day, sir."

Fuck my life.

Christian wondered how anyone could always be so damn cheerful. The smile never seemed to leave Sawyer's face.

The ride to Grey House was short and quiet, something to be appreciated. As the Audi wove through traffic, he looked over the daily agenda sent by his personal assistant, Andrea. Monday mornings were typically spent in meetings with Ros Bailey, his COO, and Michael Nicholls, his newly hired CFO. Today was not supposed to be an exception to routine. However, there was a notation from Andrea saying Welch, his security chief, had requested a meeting ASAP, in regard to an "extremely urgent matter." He texted Andrea to push back his other meetings and give Welch priority.

When Christian exited the elevator, Welch and Andrea were doubled over, sharing a laugh. They straightened up as soon as they saw him.

"Coffee, sir?" Andrea asked.

"Yes. With milk." He strode into his office with Welch fast on his heels.

Welch had a folder tucked under his arm. They would need space to spread out any paperwork, so Christian pointed at the round table and chairs in the corner of the room. "Have a seat."

"Yes, sir. Did you enjoy your weekend?" Welch was always polite, but never solicitous. This made him wary of the information Welch was about to share.

"My weekend sucked. Let me guess the reason for this meeting. Corporate espionage or embezzlement?"

"Neither, sir."

"Well?" Irritated, Christian reached for the folder.

When Welch didn't hand it over, he raised his voice.

"Tell me what the hell is going on or get the fuck out of my office."

Welch nodded, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

"As you know, we monitor all of your former female partners…"

"Shit. Don't tell me Leila Williams finally offed herself. I thought she was doing well." While he felt sympathy for her condition, he also resented her. He considered her manipulative maneuvers as contributing factors to Ana's departure.

Leila had interrupted his trip to Savannah and had distracted him from the woman he cared so much for. Maybe Ana had noticed his emotional distance and mistakenly thought his interest in her was only casual. The belting incident had mostly been his fault, of course, but Leila's interference in his life hadn't helped.

"Sir, this isn't about Miss Williams. I'm here regarding the matter of Anastasia Steele."

Shit. Is she ill? Or worse? Christian tried to hide his alarm.

"Is she okay?" He'd kept up with her via Welch and Katherine Kavanagh. Ana had been let go at SIP, something to do with her supervisor, Jack Hyde, and her position being phased out, but he had understood she was now happily living with her father in Montesano.

"As far as we can ascertain, Miss Steele is well. The thing is, a couple of months ago, she delivered a baby boy. His name is Raymond Christian Steele."

Welch slid a paper across the table to him.

Christian could not believe what he held in his hands. It was a copy of a birth certificate.

Ana hadn't named a father, but the infant's middle name was Christian. The child had been born on February 17th at Summit Pacific Medical Center in Gray's Harbor County.

A boy. Ana was the mother of a baby boy.

It didn't compute. It couldn't be real.

If Ana had been pregnant, Kavanagh must have known. Why all the secrecy?

"As you've pointed out, the birth was a couple of months ago. Why the hell am I hearing about it now?"

"My computer is synced with the state vital records database. These small counties are often slow about forwarding records to the state agency. As soon as I learned of the birth, I expedited a copy of the birth certificate. I also put a private investigator on the case. Miss Steele and her child are living with her father. They rarely leave the house, making it difficult for the PI to get photos. Saturday morning Miss Steele and her father took the infant along on a grocery trip. Here are the photos from that outing."

Christian was dismayed to see Ana in sweatpants and a hoodie. She would look lovely in anything, of course, but she should be dressed in silks, satins, and cashmere. The infant was obscured in each photo.

"I ran the child's birthdate through a due date calculator and it appears the child was conceived in the time frame during which you were seeing Miss Steele. Unless you have reason to believe she was seeing someone else concurrent with your relationship, evidence points toward you being the father."

Shit, shit, shit.

He'd never felt so helpless or so angry in all his life. He absolutely could not be a father. It wasn't in him.

"That's it, sir. That's everything we have. Unless you have further instructions for me, I'll leave you with the folder."

"What the hell am I supposed to do with this information?"

Welch wore a befuddled expression, clearly not understanding that parenthood wasn't an option for his boss.

"Well, sir, the obvious steps would be to contact Miss Steele and make arrangements for DNA testing, even if you believe the child can't possibly be yours. It's best to clear things up as soon as possible."

Christian glanced at the glider model, a gift from Ana. It had become his most cherished object, but in this moment, it became a symbol of Ana's betrayal. He was hurt, gutted, furious. He pulled at his hair, then looked up toward the ceiling as if searching for heavenly intervention.

"And if the kid is mine, then what? I can't be a father. I can't do it." His vision began to dim and he felt light-headed.

"If the child is yours, I'm sure you'll make a fine father." Welch gave him a small, hopeful smile. "I firmly believe you can do just about anything you set your mind to."

"Fuck my life."

Feeling utterly lost, Christian stared at the photos in front of him. He was conflicted. He didn't want the baby to be his, but he also didn't want it to be someone else's.

Ana shouldn't have a child at all.

It was all too much.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Welch asked.

Christian answered him with a shake of his head.

"Very well. Good luck, sir."

As Welch exited his office, Andrea entered, carrying a small tray.

"Your coffee, sir."

"What?" He wondered why she was bringing him coffee.

"Coffee with milk, sir, just as you requested. Mrs. Alexander brought in those lemon bars you like so much, so I saved some for you. Will you be working from this table or moving over to your desk?"

The walls were closing in on him. He didn't want to work at all. He wanted to find Anastasia Steele and beat the shit out of her. He wanted to make the belt beating look like it had been a walk in the park.

"Sir, you don't look well. Are you okay?"

"I don't know." He felt cold, clammy, dizzy.

"You look pale and your hands are shaking. Low blood sugar, perhaps? Maybe the lemon bars would help."

"I don't need a motherfucking lemon bar," he growled.

Andrea raised her brows and swallowed hard, but maintained her composure.

"Very well, sir. Shall I let Ms. Bailey and Mr. Nicholls know you're ready for them or would you prefer to cancel the meeting?"

"Cancel!" He barked.

"Cancel just that meeting or all of your morning meetings?" Andrea asked coolly.

"All of them. Morning and afternoon. Tell Sawyer I want to go home." He couldn't remember the reasons for any morning meetings. Nothing could be as important as getting to Ana. He'd told her enough to indicate that he didn't want a family, but apparently she hadn't understood and needed a reminder. He had to get to her.

"Of course, sir."

Anastasia Steele must be put in her place.

Yes, he would punish her severely for her misdeeds.

Her first transgression was leaving him; her second was giving birth.