EIGHT MONTHS EARLIER

Elena's voice trembled slightly as she spoke, "If I had any other choice or anyone else to turn to, I would." The words escaped her lips before Christian had even stepped through the door. She had sounded desperate on the phone, compelling him to agree to come over despite his reservations.

"What is going…" Christian's words faltered as he took in the scene before him. Her home was bare. "Were you robbed?" he asked, concern etched across his face as he turned to look at her. She appeared weary, her usual poise replaced with a disheveled appearance that alarmed him. He couldn't recall ever seeing her this out of sorts, not even during the time when the truth about them had been revealed to his family.

"Yes and no," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please, sit down." Christian hesitated momentarily, but ultimately, he did. He didn't want to be there, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

"When you signed your share of Esclava over to me, there was so much I didn't consider," she began, her eyes downcast. "I hadn't accounted for the incidentals you absorbed because GEH took care of it. Maintenance, taxes on the building… it was entirely my doing." The last part came out quickly when she saw his anger. "I am not blaming you for anything here. I'm just trying to explain what led to this."

"Go on," he replied, his tone icy.

"Despite all that, I was doing well. A new chain opened a few months back, and I didn't pay them much attention initially. They weren't taking any of my clients, then in a move I couldn't have possibly anticipated, they poached Franco and a few of my other stylists. With that, ninety percent of my clientele vanished. Suddenly, I couldn't fill a chair. I struggled to keep the clients I had left. I had to close two salons and focus on the Bellevue branch. Even then, I had to slash prices. Within weeks, it became clear that wasn't sustainable. In the end, I closed that too. The bank was threatening to call in the loans." That didn't surprise Christian if her accounts suddenly looked worse for wear.

"I sold a few things to pay them enough to keep them off me. In the end, I ended up selling everything I could. I…" Her voice faltered. "I knew that if I deposited the cash, there was every likelihood the bank would call in the remainder of the loan and leave me with nothing." Christian was beginning to see where it was going.

"You weren't robbed of your valuables, but the money you made from selling them," he deduced.

"Yesterday, I put the three salons on the market. This morning, the banks seized them to cover my debts." Her despair was evident, yet something about all this wasn't adding up, but Christian couldn't figure out what. If Elena had paid a portion of the loan. Selling her assets to pay the remainder was perfectly acceptable. The bank had no right to suddenly seize them. It was as if someone were orchestrating a scheme to ensure Elena wouldn't profit from the sale.

"Were you behind on your taxes?" he asked, grasping at the only plausible explanation.

"No, I'm paid up for the year." The answer only heightened his suspicions. There was a critical piece of information that she was withholding, but he wasn't inclined to press her further.

"So what do you want from me?" he wasn't about to offer to speak to the bank if she wasn't forthcoming with the entire story.

"I need a loan." The request caught him off guard.

"Right." He couldn't help but feel that she was holding something back. Given his connections with the bank, why wouldn't she ask him to speak on her behalf? "A loan. How much?" he finally asked.

"Two million," she whispered.

"And exactly how do you plan to repay this loan when you've lost everything?" he probed.

"I had this house appraised." She handed him the paperwork, her hands trembling slightly. The value of her home was just over two million dollars.

"Why not sell the house then?" he questioned, annoyance creeping into his voice.

"I've lost everything, Christian. I can't lose this too; it's my home." Elena's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she displayed a rare vulnerability that tugged at his heartstrings.

"Okay," he conceded, even though every part of him wanted to refuse her request.

Ana leaned against the vanity. "You keeping the facial fuzz?" she asked playfully, noting that he had been so lost in thought that he hadn't realized she had finished his haircut. Despite the turmoil in his mind, he couldn't deny that he looked good, even if it wasn't his usual style.

"No, I'm not keeping the facial fuzz," he replied, managing a smile despite the mental gymnastics his brain was performing.

"Good; unfortunately, you will have to make do with my shaving gel." Ana rummaged under the vanity until she found what she was looking for. Christian didn't care what shaving gel she had; the mere fact that she was shaving him filled him with a sense of warmth he hadn't expected.

"When did you decide to go after her?" he asked as she began trimming the length of his beard before applying the shaving gel.

"When I got her background check in New York," Ana answered. His reaction made it clear he hadn't expected her to answer.

"I called Phillip Hatton and told him to do whatever it took to get Franco and whoever else he could find. He talked about how great Franco was and how he and a few others like him made Esclava what it was. He jumped at the chance." To his astonishment, Ana produced a straight razor.

"You shave your legs with a straight razor?" he asked, his voice laced with bemusement.

"I find it easier, as it's what I was taught to shave with. I stick to what I know, especially when it works." She stepped between his legs, her concentration unwavering as she deftly ran the razor along his cheek, down his jawline. "When I got back, I had lunch with Elliot. I picked a time I knew Kate couldn't make it. If there's one thing I learned about Elliot, he's loyal even when that loyalty isn't reciprocated. So, I knew he hadn't told Kate why you weren't talking to your family." His stomach twisted at the reminder of the hurt he had caused.

"Considering your background check, I knew she had gotten her hooks into you at an early age. I never once guessed you were as young as fifteen years old. I offered to get rid of her, but Elliot insisted you had to deal with her yourself. You needed to see her for who she really was." The last of his mustache disappeared.

"You had the bank take the salons," he stated, realization dawning on him.

"I don't have that much power. Lincoln still owns the buildings that housed the salons. She tried selling them to Hatton, but he had no interest. She is trying to sell them, but for some…" Ana paused, a laugh bubbling out of her. "That's why Lincoln hasn't been advertising the sale of the buildings. She told you the banks took them. That's how she was going to get two million out of you?" Ana realized, her eyes widening. She hadn't listened to the recording and had no idea how Lincoln had gotten him to agree to the loan.

"With every passing minute, I feel more of an idiot when it comes to her." She'd played him at every step, and he'd wilfully blinded himself to it all. Ana finished the last remnants of the hair under his chin, then gently ran a warm, damp cloth over his face.

"Now, you look more like yourself," she said, admiring her handiwork.

She shooed him out of the bathroom when he offered to help her clean up. He returned to the sofa, staring into space. He had changed his number and hadn't heard from Elena since the barrage of calls and messages she had bombarded him the day he left for England. Roz hadn't mentioned whether she ever showed up at GEH again. He knew she had gone to Escala, only to find that the code to the elevator had been changed. Christian had blocked her email address and hadn't checked his messages much since then. He understood he would have to meet with her at some point, but he didn't care for answers. Christian didn't need them. He had come to understand what he had allowed her to do to him. He needed to let her know exactly where she stood with him. He needed to face her and cut the cord once and for all.

Ana joined him then. "I am sorry. I know my plan was a spectacular failure," Christian murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "But all the same, I am so sorry I ever thought to…" His words trailed off helplessly.

"There is one thing I never figured out. What were you hoping to achieve?" Ana asked, her curiosity piqued.

Christian felt a wave of shame wash over him. "That Elliot would hate you because of my actions." It sounded juvenile even to his ears.

"And how were you going to achieve that?" Ana pressed, genuinely intrigued.

"I was going to fuck you and dump you." The confession slipped out before he could stop it, and he could see the amusement on her face, she then broke out in fit of giggles.

She'd manage to calm down after several minutes of laughter, only to look at him and start again. His shoulders dropped at her reaction. He'd take her laughing at him than her anger. "I'm sorry, it's just… it's so fucking juvenile. Yeah, that could work if I were seventeen." She shook her head in disbelief. "As for hating Elliot because of your actions, that would never happen. Your actions are your own, not his, and I sure as hell will not punish him for it. The only person capable of making me hate Elliot is Elliot himself if he carries on turning up at my apartment at the crack of dawn on the few days I get to have a lie-in. Not even Kate can get me to hate him, and I've known her since preschool." Christian looked down at his hands.

"Honestly, had you managed to seduce me in the least, even a minuscule amount. I might have fucked you and be gone by the time you came back from the bathroom. You wouldn't have had the chance to dump me." His head shot up at her frankness. "I'm not a virgin, Christian. On the flip side, even if you had been honest in your pursuit, it wouldn't have made any difference. Nobody was going to put up with your inability to process the truth. You'd disappear for weeks, then return using work as an excuse. In my case, you returned because your shitty surveillance team saw me out and about with another man, then there you were. You are going to have to get real comfortable talking about some uncomfortable truths real soon, or your six months were a damn waste of time." Ana was pulling no punches.

"I know," he admitted quietly. He could see it just by looking at Elliot. His brother had a million and one questions. So would Mia and his parents. Thanks to Elena, he didn't have that many people in his life; if he did, she would never have gotten her hooks into him as deeply as she did.

"You were right about one thing. I wouldn't have been so irritated and angry when you brought up her name if I didn't care. I needed you rattled." He nodded; he had figured that much out.

"Then I responded with threats, forgetting that my secrets could topple a mountain. I realized that I cared for and wanted you in my life. To realize I meant so little to you… or that you didn't have an ounce of care for me was a sobering reality. It took me months to realize I couldn't expect you to care when I didn't care about myself. I wasn't blind to what Elena was or just how much she'd fucked me up, but there I was, still letting her hang on to my coattails."

"Amen," Ana whispered, her voice softening. "What matters the most now is that you realize there are people here, ready and willing to support you, but you will need to open yourself up to that support. Don't disappear or bury yourself in work when you don't like what you hear. Napoleon had a saying often mistakenly attributed to Sun Tzu: 'N'interrompez jamais un ennemi qui est en train de faire une erreur.'"

"Do not interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake," Christian translated.

"Anyone who will watch you dig the hole you dug isn't your friend. Elena Lincoln not only handed you a shovel, but she also grabbed a digger and helped you bury yourself. Remember that when you're getting hit from all sides, and all you want to do is crawl under a rock and ignore everybody."

"I am not that deluded to believe we are friends, but do I get the chance to earn your friendship?" he asked, vulnerability lacing his voice.

"You wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't, in some way, care for you. Sandwich or no sandwich. So yes, you have a chance." Ana's sincerity was evident, and Christian felt a flicker of hope for the first time in a long while.

"I will earn it." The conviction in his voice surprised even him, but he meant it.