Stronger Together Christi Whitson

Summary: Last summer, Christian Grey met the only submissive who had ever touched his heart. Exactly one year later, he married her. Now their newlywed bliss will be disrupted by a new foe… or is it an old one?

Rating: M for kinky lemons, a healthy D/s relationship, and violence. 24 Chapters. Part 2 of 2. HEA. No Cheating.

About This Story: This is the sequel to Strong and Submissive. Same rules apply – if you’re offended or scandalized by portrayals of a loving BDSM relationship, read no further.

Contents Prologue ............................................................................................................................... 3

Chapter One ......................................................................................................................... 4

Chapter Two ...................................................................................................................... 12

Chapter Three .................................................................................................................... 21

Chapter Four ..................................................................................................................... 29

Chapter Five ...................................................................................................................... 38

Chapter Six ........................................................................................................................ 46

Chapter Seven .................................................................................................................... 54

Chapter Eight .................................................................................................................... 63

Chapter Nine ...................................................................................................................... 71

Chapter Ten ....................................................................................................................... 80

Chapter Eleven .................................................................................................................. 89

Chapter Twelve .................................................................................................................. 95

Chapter Thirteen ............................................................................................................. 103

Chapter Fourteen ............................................................................................................. 112

Chapter Fifteen ................................................................................................................ 120

Chapter Sixteen ............................................................................................................... 130

Chapter Seventeen ........................................................................................................... 138

Chapter Eighteen ............................................................................................................. 147

Chapter Nineteen .............................................................................................................155

Chapter Twenty ............................................................................................................... 167

Chapter Twenty-One ....................................................................................................... 174

Chapter Twenty-Two ....................................................................................................... 182

Chapter Twenty-Three .................................................................................................... 189

Epilogue ........................................................................................................................... 198

Prologue

Ana crumpled to the floor, her cheek and temple throbbing painfully as she tried to maintain consciousness. The cool marble beneath her was unforgiving, sending a different sort of pain through her knees and hips when they made impact. The man looming over her sneered and lifted his arm slowly. For a moment, the only thing her eyes could focus on was the shiny black gun barrel that was pointed at her forehead.

A cold wave of adrenaline swept through her body, numbing the pain but sharpening her other senses. She only had a second or two to consider the imminent possibility of her own death, however, before her line of sight became blocked by a familiar head of honey-blonde hair. Ana could hear the woman’s voice pleading with the man who held the gun, begging him to shoot her instead.

What? No… Another surge of pain made the voices sound muffled and distant, and her vision blurred. They were arguing, and a third voice soon joined the conversation. Amidst their words, Ana could hear a strange sound from outside. Is that a helicopter? A man’s hand was wrapping itself around her bicep, attempting to yank her to her feet, but the woman tried to intervene again.

Their momentary struggle was interrupted by the deafening sound of gunfire. Multiple shots were being fired, the bullets colliding with the marble interior as the shooters shouted back and forth at one another. It was difficult to make sense of anything, and Ana felt as though someone had filled her ears with cotton and put wax paper over her eyes.

Swift and searing as a bolt of lightning, a flash of pain ripped through her right thigh, and she screamed in shock. The woman collapsed against her, and Ana quickly realized that she hadn’t been the only one injured. She tried to pull the woman out of the way of the gunshots, leaving a smear of crimson on the dark marble until they were huddled against the wall.

Ana squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed into the woman’s soft, blonde hair, waiting for the bullet that would end it all.

Chapter One

Friday September 26, 2014

Anastasia Grey sighed morosely as she read the latest email from her husband. Though they had hoped to meet for lunch that day, Christian’s schedule was apparently more crowded than he’d expected. Ana was disappointed but not altogether surprised. The last few months had been taxing on them both, and there was little hope for improvement any time soon. She typed a quick response assuring him that no apologies were necessary and that they would have plenty of time together that evening. In truth, she knew he’d probably end up working late that evening and most likely part of the weekend as well.

There had been a number of mishaps at GEH over the last few months, and Christian had been working relentlessly to resolve the situation. The trouble had started in June while they’d been on their honeymoon. Christian and Ana had married on the anniversary of the day they’d first met, and when they’d returned from their three-week honeymoon, it had been clear that some things had fallen apart in Christian’s absence.

The first critical error had resulted in the loss of an important acquisition and had cost the company more than a million in lost revenue. It had apparently been an accounting error, and several of the businesses under the GEH umbrella had been audited since. It had taken the majority of July to pinpoint the source of the problem. August had been fairly quiet, but another issue had been uncovered only a few weeks ago, proving that the first botched deal wasn’t merely a fluke or a glitch.

At first, Christian had thought to blame his Mergers and Acquisitions department for the botched deals, but there were discrepancies in the system that had led to the Finance department instead. Information had been altered in a few places, leading to a significant loss with each failed deal. According to Barney, Christian’s ‘tech guru,’ it had seemed like a fairly standard hack, but there was no trace of a worm in the system. It was a classic case of ‘too many cooks in the kitchen.’ The changes had been made at times when multiple employees were working the deal and making adjustments here and there. Barney could tell who had edited the documents but not precisely which details each person had changed. His current task was to fix that particular shortcoming in the programming so that they could track document changes more efficiently. Unfortunately for everyone involved, it was a slow process.

Ana pursed her lips sympathetically as she read the email again. She understood the demands of Christian’s job, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t missing her husband lately. She knew that he was making every effort to connect with her each morning before work and each evening before bed, but his long hours were still taking a toll on her. Ana was doing her best to be there for him when he needed her, but it was difficult at times. There were some nights that he didn’t come to bed until well after midnight, and she hated falling asleep without him.

Shaking off her impending dour mood, Ana scanned through her inbox at the messages that had come in during her last meeting. She smiled at the sight of Ray’s name amongst

the list of senders. He’d written a short missive, merely checking in and catching up on the events of the week that had passed since they’d last spoken on the phone. Ray asked after Christian’s work situation and requested that she pass along news of an impressive catch he’d made that morning. Ana chuckled at their ongoing fishing rivalry.

Ray had met Christian on Thanksgiving the previous year. The Greys had invited him to join in their celebration, and although Ana had been nervous at the prospect of introducing the two most important men in her life to one another, she needn’t have worried. There had, of course, been the standard warning that most fathers issue to the men dating their daughters, but any doubts or concerns Ray might have harbored had vanished that same day.

Over their polite Thanksgiving dinner conversation, Grace had unwittingly opened a proverbial can of worms when she’d mentioned having met Ana at the hospital several months previously. Ana was then forced to give Ray a vanilla version of the events that had led to her being treated for exposure to rohypnol. Ray had been predictably upset and angry over the situation as well as the fact that he was hearing about it three months too late to do anything about it. Christian had been quick to soothe his temper.

“Ray, I can assure you that the man responsible was found and held accountable for his actions. Although the law was too lenient on him, in my opinion, I personally made sure that he got what was coming to him in other ways.”

“Do I want to know what sorts of ‘other ways’ you’re referring to?” Ray had asked cautiously, still getting a feel for Christian’s character.

“Nothing illegal. The man lost his marriage as well as his cushy job, and he now works as a manager at a fast food establishment,” Christian had grinned. Ray had laughed appreciatively and nodded in approval.

“Good riddance, then. Thank you for being there for her, Christian. And for keeping her safe.”

“Ana’s safety and happiness are my top priority,” Christian had promised, sincerity ringing in every word. “It’s always been that way, and it will always be that way.”

From that point onward, Christian and Ray had gotten along splendidly, and she’d been left feeling as though she’d spent a lot of energy worrying for no reason. Their bond had been strengthened further the day after Thanksgiving when the Ray had joined the Grey men for a day of fishing while the women had gone Black Friday shopping.

Ana sent a quick reply to Ray’s email before moving on to the next. A couple of authors had gotten in touch to confirm the details of meetings and launch parties, and there was a short email from Grace as well. Ana had gotten to know Christian’s mother very well over the past year, through the wedding planning process as well as through several in-depth conversations about Christian’s past.

Grace had indeed taken Ana up on her offer to explain the BDSM lifestyle in relatively simple terms, and although it hadn’t been the most comfortable conversation Ana had ever endured, it hadn’t been as awkward as one might have expected. Grace’s inquiries had mirrored Kate’s in many ways, and Ana had done her best to give honest answers without divulging details too intimate to be shared with her mother-in-law. Grace had

kept an open mind, but it had still been a very fine line for Ana to walk. Once Grace had come to understand the reality of the lifestyle, she’d had an easier time accepting it.

The only issue that remained was her feelings of guilt over what her son had endured as a teenager. Carrick shared her feelings as well, and although Christian had assured them countless times that he didn’t blame either of them for what had happened, his parents still blamed themselves. They’d both had a few therapy sessions with one of Grace’s colleagues, and they were doing their best to let it go. Ana knew that Grace was still struggling with the burden, but she was pleased with the closer relationship Christian now had with both of his parents now that there were no more secrets between them.

Grace’s email was primarily a check-in, like Ray’s. She had apparently attempted to get in touch with Christian that day but had been unsuccessful, and she asked if they might be able to make it to dinner this coming Sunday evening. Sunday dinners were still a regular tradition for the Greys, and both Ana and Christian generally enjoyed them. Their attendance had been sporadic over the last few months, however, due to the mishaps at GEH.

Ana made a mental note to discuss the matter with Christian that evening and went back to her daily tasks. Grey Publishing was doing well, thanks in part to several best-sellers that Ana herself had championed. Those who had suspected nepotism due to her relationship with Christian had long since been disabused of the notion. Ana’s professional successes were entirely her own, and anyone paying attention could see it.

The remainder of her workday flowed smoothly until it was time to go home, and Ana smiled to herself as she closed her office blinds and dug her riding clothes out of her duffle bag. Although her CPOs might hate the days that she was able to ride Tony to and from work, Ana lived for them. The fresh air was the best thing to wake her up in the morning, and the wind in her face was the perfect antidote for a long workday. Her husband, or more specifically in this case, her Dom, was still in favor of Ana being chauffeured by her hulking bodyguards everywhere she went, but they’d eventually come to an understanding in regards to her bike. As long as the weather was fair and the press wasn’t an issue, she was free to ride wherever she wanted.

Fortunately for Ana, the press hadn’t really posed a security threat since the Mark Kisler scandal had fizzled out. The media still loved Ana, and the majority of the coverage was positive. There had been the occasional ‘gold-digger’ or ‘prenup’ talk in the days after the engagement had been announced, but Christian had put the kibosh on those stories as quickly as possible. His head of Public Relations, Judy McKay, had advised they give a brief press conference to make the announcement, take a few photos, give some general wedding information, and ask for privacy. Predictably, one of the reporters had asked about a prenup, and Christian had responded with a simple but resounding no. That had been the end of it, as far as he was concerned.

The media exposure at the wedding had been tightly controlled, and although the paparazzi still showed up on occasion, Ana no longer felt the need to employ evasion tactics. When anyone attempted to snap her picture, she would wave and smile kindly, and if the questions weren’t rude or imposing, she would occasionally answer one or two. It seemed to Ana that the press, like some animals, could practically smell fear. They were much better behaved when they got just enough of what they wanted. True, it was

exhausting at times, but at least now when they published pictures of her doing such mundane things as perusing her favorite bookstore, she looked less like a frazzled mess and more like someone worthy of the Christian Grey.

Sawyer and Mathison, her full-time CPOs, pulled into the garage at Escala just behind her, and the three of them rode the elevator to the penthouse together. The two men veered toward the staff quarters when the doors opened, and Ana headed for the kitchen.

“Evening, Gail,” she greeted their housekeeper. The older woman offered her trademark sweet smile as she opened the oven to siphon the excess grease from her meatloaf. Ana’s stomach growled at the delicious smell.

“Good evening, Ana. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Just some water, I think,” she replied, helping herself to a bottle from the refrigerator. “Need any help?”

“No, thank you, dear. I’m just about finished. Any idea when we might be expecting Mr. Grey?”

“Not yet.” Gail smiled sympathetically at the disappointed tone of Ana’s response.

“Alright, well dinner should be ready shortly.”

“Thanks,” Ana nodded, replacing the cap of her water bottle and leaving it on the breakfast bar while she went to the bedroom to change her clothes. As she pulled her shirt over her head, her phone alerted her to an incoming text message.

If you’re feeling up to it tonight, I’d like you to head to the playroom after dinner. I need you, princess. It’s been far too long since I’ve been inside you, and even longer since the last time I made you beg for release. :) - C

Ana shook her head as she read the text. And just like that, I’m a quivering, wet mess, she thought with a giggle. Her thumbs fairly flew across the screen as she typed her reply.

:) I think that can be arranged, Sir. I need you too. - A

Her expectations for the evening had been lifted along with her mood, and there was a new spring in her step as she returned to the kitchen a short while later. Gail was in the process of filling two dinner plates, and Ana’s brows lifted in surprise.

“Jason just texted; they’re on their way,” she explained, and Ana returned her smile.

“Thank goodness. I was expecting them to be late again tonight.”

Gail and Taylor had eloped last Christmas, and Ana knew that she wasn’t the only woman in the house who’d been missing her husband lately. Both of their faces lit up when they heard the elevator doors open, and Gail bid her a quick goodnight as the men rounded the corner. Ana turned to watch her husband shrug out of his suit jacket and loosen his tie.

Yum, she sighed inwardly. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to the fact that someone as wonderful as Christian actually belonged to her. Aside from the devastatingly good looks and overwhelming sex appeal, he was the most thoughtful, most compassionate person she’d ever known. It seemed almost unbelievable that he could love her as much as she loved him, but he certainly went out of his way to show it at every

opportunity. His lips were curved into a sexy smile as he walked toward her, and she hopped down from the barstool to greet him.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Mrs. Grey.”

“Likewise, Mr. Grey,” she grinned back, tilting her chin upward as he leaned down to kiss her. He pecked her lips softly twice before nibbling the bottom lip he was always so fixated upon. Ana moaned, her lips parting to tease him a little with her tongue.

“Fuck,” Christian groaned. “Let’s eat. You’re going to need the calories.” Ana giggled and gave him another quick kiss before returning to her seat. “How was your day, baby?”

“Not bad. I got confirmation on the dates for that symposium in New York. It’s the first full weekend of November. I’ll probably have to leave that Thursday night.”

“And return on Sunday?” She nodded, and he gave a deep sigh. “I wish I could promise that I’ll be able to come with you, but I just don’t know at this point. All of this bullshit at work is taking longer to sort out than it should. It seems like every time we get a handle on one thing, something else falls apart.”

“I know. It’s ok,” Ana assured him. “I’d love to see New York with you, but I’ll have to work most of the weekend anyway.”

“I’m still going to try to clear my schedule. If I can swing it, I’ll be there. If not, then we’ll definitely plan a weekend trip once things slow down a bit. I hate the idea of you going without me,” he admitted.

“It’ll be okay,” she smiled. “I’ll have plenty of security, and I’ll be staying in your apartment there--”

“Our apartment there.”

“Right,” Ana laughed. “It’s hard to imagine owning a home I’ve never even seen.”

“I guess I can see your point. Get used to it though, Mrs. Grey. What’s mine is yours.” They shared a smile, and Christian felt a now-familiar rush of satisfaction when she didn’t argue the point.

To his relief, Ana had given up her opposition to gifts and sharing possessions when they’d gotten engaged. It had taken her some time to come to terms with the sheer volume of Christian’s wealth, but she had eventually made her peace with it. The money she made at her job now went into the same very large bank account, and she felt fine about spending from it with the knowledge that she was at least contributing as much as she could. Ana wasn’t sure that she would ever truly get used to having so much money, but she didn’t try to fight her husband’s expensive tastes anymore.

As they ate dinner, they traded other details about their workdays. Christian watched her eyes sparkle as she relayed a funny story about a coworker, feeling the tension of the day ease gradually from his muscles as well as his mind. Coming home to her was one of his favorite parts of each day. She breathed new life into him, soothed his anxieties, and reminded him of what was truly important. He wouldn’t have traded that feeling for any number of flashy cars or successful business ventures.

“All finished?” Christian asked, eyeing her nearly empty plate with satisfaction. Ana grinned at the obvious pleasure in his expression. He always loved to see her eat, and she doubted that would ever change.

“Yes… as long as I can have you for dessert,” she replied as her eyes wandered downward from his face.

“Perhaps if you’re a very good girl. Meet me in the playroom in ten minutes, princess.” Ana’s eyes gleamed, and her lips curved into a devious smile.

“Yes, Sir.”

That night, Christian showed a level of patience that contradicted the sort of day he’d endured at work. Ana spent a good half hour tied to the bondage table while he edged her with his hands and mouth, and when at last he let her climax, he drank her orgasm as though he were dying of thirst. Next, he moved her to the swing, then the spanking bench, then the bed. By the time he’d bound her ankles above her head and fucked her within an inch of her sanity, Ana was practically sobbing with pleasure and exhaustion. Part of her craved more while the other part wanted to beg for his orgasm and the physical relief that would come with it. His release was almost violent in its intensity, thundering through him like a tidal wave and flooding her with his warmth.

Ana gave a sated whimper as he released her ankles and unfolded her body into a more natural position. Christian stretched out next to her and gathered her against his chest, stroking the sweat-dampened hair from her forehead.

“Are you alright, love?”

“Mmmm,” she moaned back, nodding her head but unable to speak. He chuckled and rained kisses over her face and neck before lifting her hands to press his lips to each individual fingertip. Ana smiled at him, her eyes glazed as though she were intoxicated.

“You look drunk,” Christian teased, trailing his index finger over her cheek. He knew subspace when he saw it, and he felt a thrill at being able to bring her so much pleasure. Normally, he’d have begun the cleanup part of the aftercare process, but he didn’t want to move away from her while she was in that state. “You’re exquisite, Mrs. Grey. Absolute perfection.”

Ana was flying. Her body was limp with exhaustion, and yet her blood still pulsed with adrenaline. She imagined that being high from certain illegal substances might feel something like this. Nothing had ever felt so powerful as the connection she shared with her husband, her mate, her Dom.

Once Ana began to come back to herself, Christian cleaned them both up and carried her to the master bedroom. She moaned softly as he kissed her goodnight and tucked her head beneath his chin.

No matter how overwhelming their lives could be at times, they always found solace in each other’s arms.

Saturday September 27, 2014

Ana stretched like a lazy cat in the early morning sunlight, feeling rested and content after a good night’s sleep. When her arms sought the warmth of her husband, however, she was disappointed to discover that his place in their bed was vacant. She groaned and buried her face in her pillow, wondering if he’d been awoken by some new emergency at work.

“So early for such an attitude, little girl.”

Ana’s head popped up at the sound of his voice, and she smiled happily when she saw that he hadn’t been working at all. He’d been fixing a breakfast tray. Over the past year, she had eased Christian into the culinary arts, and although he’d had plenty of mishaps, there were a handful of meals that he could pull off without starting a fire. He made decent scrambled eggs, he could handle a few simple pasta recipes, and anything that came with detailed instructions on the box was usually a safe enough choice. A few of his more daring attempts in the kitchen had been disastrous, but all in all, Ana was proud of his progress.

“Sorry,” she giggled. “I was afraid something else had come up at work.”

“I’m sure I’ll hear from a few people, but I’m going to do my best to stay out of the office today. Scout’s honor,” Christian winked.

“I don’t think your uses for knot tying are quite what the Boy Scouts had in mind.”

“Probably not,” he laughed, picking up a piece of buttered toast. “Eat.”

Ana obediently took the bread from his hand, but her eyes gleamed with mischief. She took a bite with excessively slow movements, licking the melted butter from her lips with the tip of her tongue. Christian’s eyes darkened, his gaze locked on her mouth.

“You’re playing with fire, Mrs. Grey.”

“Well, it has been a while since we’ve played with wax…”

He growled playfully and caught a handful of her hair in his fist, tilting her head back abruptly as he brought his face within an inch of hers. Ana gasped at the heat in his eyes, and his expression dared her to make another smart comment. As much as she’d have liked to, his actions had scrambled her wits, and she knew with absolute certainty that her panties were a mess. Christian captured her lips, tasting the smoothness of the butter and the sweet, addictive flavor that was simply Ana.

Their impromptu makeout session was interrupted by the buzzing of Ana’s cell from the nightstand. She reached over blindly to retrieve it and brought it to her ear without looking at the screen.

“Mmm… Hello…?” she answered between kisses.

“Ana? Are you alright?” Her mother’s panicked voice halted her show of appreciation for her husband’s mouth, and she looked at the phone with a frown. Why didn’t I check the caller ID?

“I’m fine, Mom,” Ana replied uncertainly. “Are you okay? You sound… off.”

“No, I’m absolutely not okay. I’m sorry to call so early, sweetheart, but I had to make sure you were safe.” Carla’s voice was loud and panicked, and Christian’s brow furrowed as he heard her words.

“What’s going on, Mom? What happened?”

“I… A letter came in the mail this morning…” she paused, and Ana could hear paper rustling in the background. “Took the bastard almost ten years, but I knew it wouldn’t be the last we heard of him.”

“Who? What are you talking about?” Ana felt a chill descend over her body as her mother spoke a name she hadn’t uttered in years.

“Stephen.”

Chapter Two

Saturday September 27, 2014

Ana sat in stunned silence for a moment while her mother’s panicked voice continued to ramble on. She felt strangely disconnected from her body, and it was difficult to keep up with her mother’s rapid speech. Christian watched her in concern and held out his hand for the phone. Ana met his eyes with a blank expression and gave herself a mental shake.

“Mom…”

“...I can’t believe this is coming back to bite me after all this time. There wasn’t even a postmark on the letter; it was just sitting in the mailbox--”

“Mom…”

“...I mean, you’d think a few years in prison would’ve done him some good, you know? Sobered him up at least--”

“Mom!” Ana had to shout to get her mother’s attention. “I need you to take a deep breath, okay? Take a few. Christian’s with me, and I’m going to put you on speaker. Can you read the letter out loud? Or maybe take a picture with your phone and send it?”

“Yes, of course. Hello, Christian,” Carla said, still flustered but doing her best to breathe evenly.

“Good morning, Carla. What’s going on?”

“She got a letter from her ex-husband,” Ana explained, sparing them both a fresh round of Carla’s panic.

“Morton?”

“Ana told you about him?” Carla asked in surprise.

“Christian knows about all of it, Mom. We don’t have secrets.”

“Oh… Well, that’s good, I suppose. Christian, that’s part of the reason I called right away. I know how you are about security, and I thought you two should know immediately. This letter… It’s ugly.” Ana could hear the paper rustling again. “I’m sending a picture of it. Let me know if it’s illegible, but I’d rather not say these things out loud.”

Christian’s jaw and fists clenched, and he retrieved his own cell from his pocket to fire off a quick email to Welch. They would need more information on Stephen Morton as soon as possible. When he finished, he looked up to see Ana staring at the screen of her phone in shock and disgust. He scooted closer to her to see the image her mother had sent.

Carla,

I’ll bet you never thought you’d be hearing from me again. I’m not surprised that you found yourself another husband, but changing your name and moving across the country doesn’t mean I can’t find you. I would’ve thought you’d learned that lesson years ago. I would have found you sooner if I hadn’t been locked up, but I’m a free man now.

So free that I can stand right outside your house on the sidewalk and see you through your kitchen window, and you never even think to look up. I could’ve had you right then, but what would be the fun in that? Too easy. You made my life difficult for far too long, and the least I can do is return the favor. The same goes for your daughter. I hear the little bitch is actually a proper whore now. Married to a billionaire even, but no amount of money can change the fact that she’s trash. Just like you. Both of you are going to answer for what you did to me. Marrying you was the worst thing I ever did, and I didn’t even get the payout. My life went to shit as soon as you and that little slut walked into it. I’m going to make you both regret the day you turned on me.

Stephen

Christian was on his feet, pacing the bedroom floor and looking like he might be rethinking his stance on the second amendment. Ana’s hands shook slightly as she cleared the image from the screen and returned her attention to her mother, who was, not surprisingly, still talking.

“Did you read it all?” Carla asked.

“Yeah. Look, Mom, let’s just… try to stay rational about it, alright? He just got out of jail, apparently, so he’s got to have a parole officer. There’s a good chance he broke the rules by leaving Nevada, so maybe we can turn him in for that and get him locked up again.”

“Maybe, but if he was telling the truth, he was right outside…” Carla’s voice shook, and Ana’s stomach turned at the thought of how exposed her mother had been to someone who clearly wished to do her harm.

“I can hire private security for you, Carla,” Christian spoke up. “They can be in place before the end of the day.”

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Of course. I already have my head of security putting together a new background check on Morton, and with any luck, my team will be able to track his whereabouts. No one can travel that distance these days without leaving some sort of paper trail or showing up on surveillance cameras. We’ll find him,” he promised. Ana smiled sadly up at him, for once in full agreement with her husband’s fundamental need for safety.

“Thank you, Christian,” Carla sighed.

“You’re welcome. You were right to call us immediately.”

“Yes, I thought you’d want to know.” Carla had seen firsthand the evidence of Christian’s focus on security when she’d flown in for the wedding.

“In the meantime, Mom, you should stay inside. And you shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m sure as hell not going anywhere today. Bob went golfing this morning, but he’s on his way back.”

“Good,” Ana nodded.

“Carla, I know it may be difficult, but if you can give me any information about Morton that might be useful to my team, I’d appreciate it.”

“Oh…” The line was silent for a few moments, and Ana tried to offer some encouragement.

“I know you don’t like to talk about him, or even think about him for that matter. Neither do I. But having more information about his personality might help us track him down. I only remember that he was a mean drunk who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Unfortunately, that doesn’t get us very far.”

“A mean drunk…” Carla muttered. “That’s an understatement. He was a manipulative, perverted scumbag. I’ll never forgive myself for putting you in that situation…”

“I came out okay, Mom. You were there when it counted most.”

Carla sniffled, and Ana knew her mother was probably crying. They hadn’t really talked about Morton since she’d sent Ana back to Washington, and although Ana had found a way to move on from the incident, she wondered now if her mother had ever really dealt with the emotional fallout.

“I texted Taylor,” Christian announced. “He should probably hear this too. Let’s go to the study and talk there, alright?”

Ana nodded and explained to her mother what they were doing. She forwarded the picture message to Christian’s phone, pausing to slip into a robe before following her husband out of the bedroom. Taylor and Sawyer were waiting for them, and Ana was only half-listening as Christian filled them in on the situation. Taylor’s trademark neutral expression faltered as he read the letter from Christian’s phone.

“Carla, are you still with us?” Christian asked once everyone was seated. Ana placed her phone on the desk, pulling her robe a little tighter around her body and trying to ignore the fact that she hadn’t had time to put on a bra.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Alright, I’ve got Taylor and Sawyer here with us, and they will probably have some questions for you as well. You met them at the wedding,” he reminded her.

“Yes, I remember. Hello.”

The two CPOs greeted her politely, and Taylor took the lead in asking questions. Ana was thankful that Christian had included them because many of the questions were things Ana wouldn’t have thought to ask. They took notes on everything from Morton’s choice of alcohol and cigarettes to the kinds of clothing he usually wore. Carla told them what she knew of his work history up to their divorce as well as the scant information she had on his family.

As she listened to her mother describe Morton, Ana tried to push back the images that flooded her mind. His large, dirty hands, always finding ways to touch her. His dark eyes, bloodshot from liquor and cigarette smoke. The weight of his body when he’d held her down that night. The clink of his belt buckle…

She was startled by the touch of her husband’s hand on her cheek. Christian gazed at her in concern and sympathy, and Ana gave him the best reassuring smile she could manage. He frowned, undeceived, and took her slender hand in his. Ana refocused her attention on her mother’s words. Taylor had apparently gotten around to asking her about the wording of the letter.

“I don’t know how he can blame either of us for him ending up in jail. From what I understood, he was driving drunk and killed four people. I don’t know how he even managed to get out of jail this quickly,” Carla wondered aloud.

“We’re looking into the details of his release, ma’am,” Taylor replied. “The information we have on file indicates that he was charged with four counts of involuntary manslaughter. The penalty for that is usually much less severe than the penalties for first or second degree murder.”

“He’d still be on parole though, right?” Ana asked.

“Most likely, Mrs. Grey. Welch will track down that information as well.” He paused, looking again at the text of Morton’s letter. “Mrs. Adams, do you know what he was referring to by ‘payout?’ He mentions regretting that he didn’t get ‘the payout’ from your marriage. Was there a settlement of some kind involved?”

“No… If anything, he always made it sound like he had more money than he actually did. He knew that I wasn’t coming into the marriage with anything of value. I really don’t know what he meant by that.”

“He meant me,” Ana said, her eyes fixed stubbornly on the floor. “I was sixteen at the time. He was a pedophile, and he thought that marrying my mother would give him… access. He’s referring to the fact that he never got to…” She couldn’t finish the statement, but everyone in the room understood what she meant. Taylor and Sawyer looked grim and uncomfortable. Christian looked ill… and furious.

“I guess that makes sense,” Carla admitted softly. “I never saw it, not until…”

“It’s alright, Mom. Like I said, it’s in the past. Let’s just focus on keeping everyone safe now, okay?”

They moved on to discuss security arrangements going forward. Taylor was in full agreement with Christian’s suggestion to hire personal security for Carla. She would have two CPOs on a rotating schedule so that she had at least one man with her at all times. Ana was pleased to hear that Carla sounded much calmer by the end of the call, and she promised to let them know if anything else came up. Taylor and Sawyer retreated to the staff quarters as Christian wrapped his arms around his wife.

“Are you alright, baby?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice a bit shakier than she would have liked. “I’m just worried about my mom. I know we’re not all that close, but I don’t want anything to happen to her. I hate the thought that he was that close…” She shuddered in his arms, and Christian pressed his lips to her forehead.

“We’ll make sure she’s safe, Ana. And I’ll make sure you’re safe too. I won’t let anything happen to you; I swear it.”

“I know. I’m… I’ll be alright. It’s worse if I let myself fear him. He doesn’t even deserve that much from me. I don’t want to think about him.”

“I don’t want you to be afraid either. I do need you to be aware, though. If you see something or hear something that seems off, you need to tell Sawyer or whomever is with you at the time. If he knows we’re married, he knows where to find you.”

Ana sighed, closing her eyes as she buried her face against his chest. An hour ago, she’d been looking forward to a enjoying a relaxing Saturday with her husband. They’d had so little downtime lately with everything going on at GEH. Now another mess had been dumped into their laps, and she felt suddenly exhausted.

“Let’s go reheat our breakfast,” Christian suggested. Ana’s stomach churned, and it must’ve shown in her expression. “You need to eat, Ana.”

“I’ve lost my appetite. I think I’d rather take a shower first. Maybe I’ll feel like eating after that.”

Christian wanted to argue, but he held back, hating the lines of stress that marred her beautiful face. He nodded and kissed her softly, following her as far as the bedroom to retrieve their abandoned breakfast tray. Ana disappeared into the bathroom, and he sighed as he watched the door close behind her. Christian didn’t want to leave her alone at the moment, but he knew that she needed a little time and space to come to terms with things. He took the opportunity to check in with Ros and Andrea on the current state of things at work, hoping to put out any new fires quickly so that he could have a proper day off.

Christian knew that as soon as Ana wrapped her head around the problem, she’d seek him out for support, and he was determined to be there for her in any way he could.

Ana washed herself more thoroughly than usual, as though she were scrubbing away the residual feeling of Morton’s hands on her body. She berated herself for letting him get to her, for letting the fear in even a little. She hated the thought that he’d succeeded in making her afraid, especially since she knew that was exactly the sort of thing he got off on. Morton had been a predator, and apparently he hadn’t changed much. His tactics were intimidation, manipulation, and degradation.

Shake it off, Ana. He didn’t win then, and he won’t win now.

Despite her internal pep talk, her appetite still hadn’t returned by the time she’d dressed and gone looking for Christian. She found him in the living room, barking orders into his cell phone as he paced in front of the couch. Ana listened to his words for long enough to discern that the conversation was work-related rather than anything pertaining to Morton, but it sounded like the situation at GEH was still a mess. She sighed ruefully, wishing they could simply go back to bed and start the day over.

Ana wandered into the kitchen and found her breakfast plate waiting for her in the microwave. Once it was reheated, she took it to the breakfast bar and tried to force down enough food to satisfy her husband’s relentless desire to feed her. In spite of her uneasy stomach, the thought made her smile. Even when their lives were chaotic and stressful, Christian never stopped looking after her needs. He’d meant it when he’d told her that she was his first priority, and he proved it every day. At times like this, Ana did her best not to pile on or ask too much of him, but he never made her feel as though he wouldn’t move heaven and earth to make her happy, regardless of whatever else he might be dealing with.

“Sorry about that,” Christian apologized as he entered the kitchen from behind her.

“It’s alright. Although, you might consider apologizing to whichever employee you were shouting at,” Ana replied, giving him a smirk that was clearly a weakened version of her usual sass.

“Limpdick,” he muttered sourly. “He’s just feeling petulant that I have to fire his girlfriend.” Ana snorted at Christian’s uncharitable nickname for Nicholas Limbrick, his head of Mergers and Acquisitions.

“You really shouldn’t call him that.”

“It fits him at the moment. He’s whining about Delilah getting fired, and he’s requesting time off in the middle of this mess.”

Ana frowned, considering what she knew of Limbrick. He’d been hired by Ros about a year ago, around the time Christian had gone to Hong Kong to try to salvage a deal that had been mishandled by M&A. Ana had only run into the man a handful of times, and aside from the fact that he had a bit of a staring problem, he seemed like a nice enough guy. Limbrick was good at his job, and although the recent problems had affected his department, they hadn’t originated there. Instead, the majority of the blame seemed to have fallen upon the Finance department, which until very recently had been under the direction of Delilah Martin.

“Limbrick is dating Delilah?” Ana asked, curious in spite of herself. She didn’t generally waste time with office gossip, but in this case, it intrigued her. She couldn’t have imagined a more unlikely couple. Limbrick was a good-looking, intelligent man who was around the same age as Christian, and by all accounts, he was a bit of a player. Delilah Martin was pushing forty, only mildly attractive, and was prone to simpering when Christian was in the vicinity. Ana had always written her off as a rather vapid woman who was more concerned with her image than with her actual responsibilities.

“Yeah, they reported it to HR back in April, apparently. I couldn’t care less, but I suppose it makes this situation awkward for him. Whether she was directly involved or not, she was still negligent to the fact that this mess started with her department,” Christian grumbled. “He’s so concerned over whether or not she has a job that he’s forgetting to do his own.”

“Hence the shouting.”

“Yes.”

“So do you need to go into the office then?” she asked hesitantly. Please say no.

“Not at this point. I may have to login and do some work later this evening, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m all yours for the day, Mrs. Grey,” Christian smiled, leaning in for a kiss. He lingered on her mouth for several long moments, tasting the sweet remnants of the jelly from her toast. When he lifted his head, he moved his hand to touch her cheek. “Are you doing alright?”

Ana sighed and nodded with slightly more confidence than the last time he’d asked her that question. Showering had helped, but it hadn’t erased the unwanted memories from her mind.

“I didn’t mean to push you away or anything. I just--”

“Needed a little time,” he finished, his voice gentle. “I didn’t think you were pushing me away, baby. I knew you just needed to collect your thoughts. Now we can deal with this together. Like we do everything else.”

Ana smiled sadly and moved to hug him, trying to pour every ounce of her gratitude into the embrace. She knew that, no matter what happened, Christian would always have her back.

They spent the day enjoying each other’s company. Ana coached Christian through preparing a pot of chili, and they discussed the measures that would be taken to tighten security in light of Morton’s threat. She was able to talk her husband out of assigning a third full-time CPO to her detail, but as anyone who knew Christian could have predicted, he was adamant about the ban on her motorcycle. It was only temporary, and Ana could still visit the track when the weather permitted, but riding anywhere else left her too exposed. She couldn’t help but agree with his logic, and it made her angry with Morton all over again.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms that night, but Ana’s peace was short-lived. She seemed to fall into a dream almost immediately, but it was the horrible kind that felt exactly like reality. She was back in the tiny, damp-smelling house she’d lived in with Stephen and her mother. Ana walked through the house in a sort of trance, taking note of the clutter and disrepair. The paint on the walls was cracked and chipped in several places, and the carpet was musty and stained. The trashcan in the kitchen overflowed with empty liquor bottles and beer cans. The air was stale with the scent of smoke and mildew.

Ana looked down, taking in the baggy jeans and oversized top she was wearing. It didn’t seem to matter how much she tried to hide in her clothing or how much weight she lost due to her anxiety, Stephen never stopped watching her. He followed her with his eyes, scrutinizing and criticizing her every move. And waiting. Always waiting for an opportunity to get her alone.

She moved down the hallway, realizing that she was alone in the house at the moment. Her mother was probably at work, but she couldn’t be sure about Stephen. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than her stepfather banged his way through the front door. He was already yelling for her before he was even inside, not caring whether or not the neighbors heard him shouting obscenities at a teenage girl. Ana tried to flee to her room, but his steps were longer and faster than hers. He barged in before she could get the door closed properly.

“Think you can hide from me, you little slut?” he growled, stalking toward her. Ana watched in horror as he drew his fist back and slammed it into her face. The pain stunned her and yet filled her with an odd sense of déjà vu.

This already happened… It’s a dream…

She tried to wake herself up, but her brain refused to comply. Ana sobbed as Stephen pushed her backward onto the bed, pushing his forearm hard against her throat. She fought for oxygen and for freedom, but the weight of his body held her in place. She could feel him push his hand beneath her shirt, squeezing her breasts mercilessly. The rattle of his belt buckle brought her panic to new heights, and she struggled harder.

Where’s Mom???

Ana heard her pants tearing and felt his hand inside of her panties. She kicked harder then, thrashing against his weight and clawing at his face, at his chest, at the arm that was suffocating her. Black spots invaded her vision, and her body began to feel numb. It was getting harder to keep her eyes open…

Ana shot straight up in bed with a gasp, her hands automatically going to her throat as though to check whether the monster in her dream had damaged it. To her surprise, it actually felt a little sore. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the familiar shapes and shadows of the bedroom she shared with Christian, who was, remarkably, still asleep. She worked to slow her breathing and swallow back the tears that stung at her eyes and throat.

It was just a dream, Ana. Get a hold of yourself. She lay back down, careful not to rouse Christian. For several long minutes, she tried to focus on anything but the dream, but her mind refused to cooperate. She could still feel his hands on her skin, still smell the whiskey on his breath as he hovered over her.

Ana sat up again and slid out of bed, glancing back at her husband once more before she left the room. It was after midnight, and the penthouse was silent. The city lights of Seattle twinkled at her from beyond the wide windows, and she watched them for a few minutes before searching for something else to focus upon. She considered grabbing a book from the library, but her eye was caught by Christian’s piano in the corner. The large lid was down, and she wondered if the noise would wake him.

The instrument was truly a thing of beauty. Ana had once Googled his piano, out of curiosity for the reasons he might’ve chosen that particular model. She’d been only mildly surprised to see the exorbitant price tag, but it had made her feel much more apprehensive about the possibility of accidentally damaging the thing. For that reason, she’d never touched it. However, at that moment, it seemed to beckon her. Ana knew that Christian had once used music to cope with his own nightmares, and she hoped that perhaps it would work for her as well.

The black and white keys stood out even in the dim moonlight, and she searched her memory for a song. She could read music, but she couldn’t read and play at the same time. She primarily played by ear, and she only had a few pieces memorized. She placed her feet on the first and third pedals, and her fingers moved over the keys, finding a slow, peaceful tune.

Christian stirred, his arm outstretched in search of his wife. When he felt nothing but empty bed sheets, his eyes opened in alarm. The bathroom was dark and vacant, as was the balcony, but after a moment, the soft sounds of piano music reached his ears. He recognized the piece and wondered if she’d chosen it intentionally from his playlist. He climbed out of bed and followed the sound of Erik Satie’s Gymnopédie No. 1.

To his immense surprise, it wasn’t emanating from his iPod dock but from his actual piano. He stood in the shadows, thoroughly impressed as he watched her play through to the first ending and started over again. Ana’s hair fell loose and long over her shoulders, and her clear skin seemed paler than usual in the soft moonlight. Her melancholy expression made his chest ache, and he suddenly found the distance between them to be

intolerable. Christian crossed to the piano slowly, not wishing to startle her. When he came into her periphery, she stopped playing.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Ana said quietly, meeting his concerned gaze only briefly.

“You didn’t, but I was worried when I woke up to an empty bed.” He moved to sit next to her on the bench, and she scooted over a little to make room for him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you could play?”

“I don’t, not really. I can’t play nearly as well as you can,” she smiled a little. “I never had lessons or anything like that. I’ve just memorized a few songs.”

“I heard you; it was good. That’s not exactly a beginner’s piece,” he pointed out. Ana shrugged slightly.

“It always seemed calming to me… restful.” Her fingers played over the keys a little more.

“Is there a reason you’re playing in the middle of the night, baby?”

“I remembered that you used to play when you had nightmares. I thought it might help clear my head.”

“You had a nightmare?” Christian asked in concern. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You’ve been working such long hours lately,” she replied, shaking her head. “You need sleep. I was coming back to bed soon.” Christian tilted her chin gently so that she was forced to look at him directly. Her eyes had a haunted look about them, and her lower lip trembled a little.

“That doesn’t matter, Ana. If you need me, I want to be there for you.” Ana nodded and closed her eyes as he gathered her against his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. At least… not tonight.” Christian squeezed her a little tighter and kissed the top of her head.

“Come back to bed, baby. I’ll hold you all night if that’s what it takes.”

Ana allowed him to lead her back to the bedroom where he wrapped his arms around her and enveloped her in warmth. The scents from her nightmare were chased away by Christian’s familiar, masculine one, and she inhaled it like a drug that promised to numb the pain in her heart. She slept soundly for the rest of the night, and when she woke the next morning, her husband’s arms were still around her, warding off her demons and keeping her safe.

Chapter Three

Saturday October 4, 2014

A week had passed since Carla had called about the threat from Morton, and Ana was feeling slightly better about the situation. Christian had coaxed her into explaining her dream, and she’d felt better after letting him into her head. The overwhelming emotion now was anger. She was angry with Morton for refusing to simply go away, angry with Carla for marrying the asshole in the first place, and most of all, she was angry with herself for allowing him to have such an effect on her. It made her feel weak, which bothered her more than anything else.

It was in that frame of mind that she suggested their next trip to the playroom be a little more intense in terms of impact play. If they hadn’t done away with their physical contract long ago, they would’ve had to go back to change it multiple times since. She’d been Christian’s submissive for over a year, and her tolerance and limits were evolving. Although she had started out in the lifestyle under the impression that she would most likely never enjoy a high level of pain in her play, she had since learned that that was not necessarily true. It was the submission part that made it enjoyable. She and Christian had both agreed that they wanted to push her limits, and they were both proud of how much she could take. She needed to feel that pride again. She needed to feel strong, to feel that sense of complete and utter peace that she found through her submission.

Ana’s limits weren’t the only things that had evolved. Her opinion on the marks Christian left on her body had changed a bit as well. The first time he’d inadvertently left a bruise on her wrist, he’d felt incredibly guilty. Ana had assured him that it didn’t hurt, and the more she’d looked at it in the days that followed, the more she’d liked it. Seeing his marks on her made her feel proud and aroused at the same time. They felt like badges of honor, tangible proof that she belonged to him.

After that epiphany, Ana had begun to crave the visual evidence of their playtime. The typical red marks left by a crop or a flogger never lasted longer than an hour or so. The belt marks faded quickly as well, but bruises… Ana could feel those for days. She loved having the physical reminder of him, and once she’d explained that to her husband, he’d started to see the issue in a different light. Perhaps it was the sadist in him, but knowing that Ana actually wanted the bruises and was aroused by them changed his opinion of them as well.

It was still a very fine line to walk. It required even more control on his part and more trust on hers. He’d seen Doms at the club get carried away before, and he knew that it was possible to seriously injure a submissive if the Dom didn’t know what he was doing. Before Christian had given into Ana’s request for more intense play, he’d thrown himself into researching the safety precautions. He’d gotten some tips from Brett and purchased a few new implements for the playroom, practicing his technique multiple times before he brought them anywhere near his wife.

Ana still didn’t like the idea of a whip, but she’d come to favor a sturdy wooden paddle and, on occasion, a polished cane that he’d ordered with specifications that made it as gentle as possible. The first time Christian had used either implement on her had left him with a sense of awe for her strength and stamina. He knew the bite of a cane all too well and had detested it, but the fact that this one was wielded by a loving Dominant made all the difference. He knew her body, her sounds, her expressions. He could read the tension in her muscles, the tremors in her limbs. He could tell when she was approaching her limit or simply nearing an orgasm. Christian still checked in with her verbally as well, probably more than was really necessary, and he usually stopped well before she reached her limit.

Tonight, they were in the playroom again, and she waited for him naked but for the diamond eternity collar he’d given her on their wedding day. The stones gleamed brilliantly even in the low light, and he would never forget the moment he’d fastened it around her neck. Cartier’s A Belle Époque choker consisted of twenty round cut diamonds, each within collet-set hexagonal diamond frames. Each of the frames was bordered and connected by two smaller diamonds, and everything was set in platinum. Christian knew that Ana had never researched her collar, because if she had, she’d probably have lost her head over the price. She had no idea that she wore nearly half a million dollars around her neck every day. It was stunning, and she was stunning in it.

“How do you feel this evening, little girl?” He watched her tremble a little at the deep tone of his voice and smiled at how responsive she was. He hadn’t touched her yet, but he suspected that she was already wet for him.

“Needy, Sir,” Ana replied, grinning at her own honesty. She craved his touch, his Dominance, his roughness. Christian chuckled at her answer.

“I’m sure we can take care of that. Stand and look at me.” He helped her to her feet and felt his breath catch when she met his gaze. Her blue eyes were glittering as much as the diamonds around her neck, but the depths of those blue orbs were far more captivating. “So beautiful,” he whispered, tilting her chin upward to brush his lips across hers.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Christian led her over to the plush sofa and left her standing next to it for a moment to retrieve the thick wooden paddle. He returned to the sofa and sat down, gauging her expression as he looked up at her.

“Are you sure this is what you want tonight?”

“Yes, Sir,” she answered breathlessly. Her adrenaline level had spiked when she’d spotted the paddle in his hand, and it surged even higher as she followed his instruction to lay across his lap.

There were many positions that would have suited this particular implement, but he preferred the intimacy of having her body draped over his thighs. He could feel her squirm and clench against him, and each movement communicated what she was feeling.

“Shall we count, princess?”

“Yes, please.”

Though counting each strike was generally done only in a punishment situation, Ana preferred to count during play. Christian never used impact for punishments anyway, and she wanted to keep track of her growing level of tolerance. She was proud of herself when the numbers grew steadily higher and she felt no desire to safeword, and he was proud of her too.

Christian used his hand to deliver a few swats to each of her buttocks, conditioning the skin so that the impact of the paddle wouldn’t be quite as harsh. Ana moaned a little with each smack, clenching her thighs in an attempt to ease the ache between them. The first thud of the paddle caught her a little by surprise, and the air expelled from her lungs in a rush. She counted each thud out loud, and by the time she reached twenty, she was panting with lust and need.

He was mostly letting gravity do the work for him, as the paddle was thick and heavy, and he had no desire to give her more than she could handle. Christian listened attentively as the wood connected with her skin, relishing in the different sounds it made when he brought it down on different parts of her ass. A slap directly to one cheek sounded slightly different than one delivered evenly across both. However, the most satisfying sound came when he struck the fleshiest part of her buttocks, right where they connected with her thighs. It had become one of his favorite sounds, along with the slap of a heavy flogger and second only to the sound of her uninhibited orgasm.

When he reached thirty strikes, he gave her a moment to breathe, slipping his hand between her thighs to glide his fingers through the evidence of her arousal. She was dripping. Christian groaned loudly and felt himself grow impossibly harder. Her ass was red and splotched in several places, and he knew that those brighter patches would become the bruises she desired.

“Ready for more, my love?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpered breathlessly.

Ana counted out another twenty strikes of the paddle, feeling gloriously empowered when she uttered the word fifty. She heard the paddle land on the sofa next to him, and he moved her carefully to cradle her in his arms. He kissed her with a passion that left her gasping for air and clinging to his broad shoulders. Christian pulled back to look into her eyes, their blue depths clouded with desire as he caressed her cheek. The surge of adrenaline had left her flushed, and he drank in the sight of her in such a state. He kissed her once more before helping her up and guiding her over to the bed.

He would have loved to restrain her, but the ache in his cock warned him that there was no time for that. Ana was already so close to the edge that she was shaking with the effort to maintain control of her release. Christian laid her on her back and positioned her on the edge of the bed, mindful of her sore bottom. The strength of his first thrust forced a shout of exhilaration from her throat as he filled her, and she clutched fistfuls of the crimson sheets beneath her. He set a vigorous rhythm, allowing the sounds of her ecstasy to push him harder and deeper.

If it weren’t for the paddling he’d given her, Christian would’ve happily fucked her well into the wee hours of the morning. He could tell that her energy was waning, however. He wrapped his hands around hers, allowing her to hold onto him for support rather than the sheets. Ana’s eyes met his as the tip of his cock slammed repeatedly against her cervix.

She would be sore in more ways than one tomorrow. He felt the tell-tale tremor in her thighs and knew that she was holding onto her orgasm with the last bit of control she had left.

“Come for me, Anastasia! Right now!”

Her climax was so intense that he could feel her essence drenching every inch of him as she spasmed. Christian followed close behind, giving a primal roar of pleasure as he erupted within her. As their pulses slowed, he kissed every perfect feature of her face, whispering words of love between each brush of his lips.

“So strong, baby. You’re so incredible.”

Ana was practically purring beneath him, and she clasped her arms and legs around him to prevent his withdrawal from her body.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“No, princess. Thank you.”

Monday Oct 6, 2014

Ana twisted her body so that she could examine her rear end in the bathroom mirror, grinning in satisfaction at the lingering evidence of their weekend playroom activities. Just looking at them turned her on, and feeling them every time she sat down brought a smile to her face. She forced herself to continue with her hair and makeup preparations. She and Christian were expected at a banquet for the Seattle Chamber of Commerce that evening, and Christian was to receive an award for his help in revitalizing the city’s oldest waterfront area.

Things at GEH had quieted down significantly over the past week, and Christian’s hours had returned to normal. Barney had finished making some changes to the system, and everyone hoped that this sort of mishap would not be repeated. If in the event that it did happen again, they would at least be able to tell exactly who had tampered with the data. Christian was relieved to be able to leave Grey House with Ana each night. Grace had been thrilled to see them at Sunday dinner for the first time in weeks, and Ana had spent several hours showing him just how happy she was to have him home all weekend.

“I hope you’re planning to wear a little more than that, Mrs. Grey,” Christian teased her from the open doorway, eyeing her lingerie set with hungry eyes.

“Perhaps,” she grinned back, baiting him. “Would you like to choose something suitable, Sir?”

His eyes lit up at her suggestion, and he disappeared into the walk-in closet. Ana shook her head with a chuckle. So easy to please sometimes, she mused. Christian didn’t often choose her clothes, though it was common practice for many Doms. Ana didn’t really mind one way or another; Christian had good taste and sound judgment when it came to clothing.

He returned a moment later with a deep purple, floor-length gown. She smiled in approval and stepped into the dress, turning away from him so that he could close the zipper. The dress was strapless and fitted from her breasts to her lower thighs before flaring gently

outward to the floor. It was simple and elegant in an understated way, and Ana’s collar and wedding ring added just the right amount of sparkle to the ensemble. She decided to leave her hair down but gathered to one side and swept over her shoulder.

“Exquisite,” Christian declared, his eyes moving appreciatively over her curves. She smirked and mimicked his perusal.

“Speak for yourself. You look sinfully good in a tux, Mr. Grey.”

“There’ll be time for sinning later,” he smirked deviously. “We need to be going.” Ana gave him a playful pout but followed him willingly from the bedroom, grabbing her handbag on the way. They bid Gail a good evening and joined Taylor and Sawyer in the elevator.

The drive to the event venue was mercifully short, and the four of them joined the queue of well-dressed attendees filtering into the building. Ana was unsurprised to see a few camera crews set up in the lobby, photographing notable business owners and members of the Seattle elite. She smiled politely for a few pictures, her hand tucked into the crook of her husband’s arm. Ana recognized a couple of the reporters and gave them a friendly wave. She didn’t know them by name, but their faces were familiar, and they’d never been disrespectful.

Christian and Ana followed the flow of foot traffic into a large ballroom that was filled with round tables. A stage and podium was situated against one wall, and one of the event coordinators directed them to a table near the front. Although the room was large and open, the air grew oppressively warmer as more bodies filled the space. Ana found herself wishing she’d put her hair up after all.

There was one seat left vacant at their table, directly across from Ana, and no one came to occupy it until shortly before dinner was served. When the newcomer joined them, she glanced in the man’s direction and did a double take.

Fuck. Not good. Really, really not good.

Joshua Brentwood was a good-looking black man who stood a few inches taller than Christian. He had a broad, muscular build and walked with visible confidence. His dark skin made his gleaming white teeth stand out when he smiled, but Ana hadn’t forgotten the way his eyes sometimes narrowed and made him look a bit sinister. She eyed his large hands as they arranged a cloth napkin on his lap, remembering all too well which fingers she’d broken nearly two years ago.

Joshua’s eyes fell upon her, and his eyebrows lifted in recognition. Ana was torn between wanting to avoid his gaze and wanting to make sure that he didn’t think she was submitting to him in any way. His eyes narrowed in that familiar way, and she stiffened visibly, drawing the attention of her husband. Christian frowned in concern, taking in her suddenly defensive posture, but before he could ask what was wrong, Joshua addressed him directly.

“Mr. Grey, I hoped I might get the chance to make your acquaintance. I’m a big admirer of yours. My name is Joshua Brentwood.” He lifted his glass of champagne as if to toast Christian’s good health.

“Nice to meet you,” Christian replied distractedly. He had no earthly idea who the man was, nor did he particularly care. He leaned toward Ana to whisper in her ear, “Are you alright?”

She nodded stiffly and squeezed his hand beneath the table. He lifted one brow in inquiry, and Ana shook her head to dismiss his concern. Later, she mouthed. Christian was clearly displeased with her response but didn’t push her.

Dinner was delicious, though the portions were a bit larger than necessary. Ana’s appetite had waned considerably, and Christian frowned a little at her half-full plate. She avoided his gaze as well as Joshua’s. After they’d finished their meal, there was a little time to wait for the awards ceremony to begin, and Ana’s eyes swept the ballroom for an exit. She spotted a terrace through a glass door some twenty feet away and placed her napkin on the table.

“I need some fresh air, I think,” she told her husband, gesturing in the direction of the terrace.

“I’ll join you.” His tone brooked no argument or refusal, and he signaled to Taylor and Sawyer who were standing near the main exit, indicating that they didn’t need to follow. Christian followed his wife through the glass doors and was pleased to find the moonlit terrace unoccupied. “It’s later,” he announced. Ana couldn’t help but smile at his predictable behavior as she turned to face him.

“I’m fine; it was just really warm in there,” she tried to assure him. The last thing they needed was her husband making a scene with the press nearby. He’d asked for Joshua’s name over a year ago, when they’d discussed their romantic histories, but she’d refused to give it to him. Seattle was a large city, and Ana had never imagined that they might actually run into the man. Christian tipped her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“I asked you a question, little girl,” he said in a low, quiet voice. Ana sighed, knowing there was no way to refuse him this time.

“I knew that man,” she admitted.

“So I gathered. Would you care to elaborate?”

“I… You have to promise to keep your temper in check. This isn’t the time or the place to make a scene.”

“You’re not making me feel very optimistic about keeping my temper right now, Mrs. Grey,” Christian warned, his dark eyes brooding. She sighed, biting her bottom lip unconsciously.

“I’ve actually already told you about him. I just didn’t tell you his name.” She watched his frown deepen in confusion. “When we first got together, we had a long talk about our romantic histories… Including my… previous attempts at finding a Dom?” Ana whispered the last word, hoping that he wouldn’t need her to repeat the story again.

He didn’t.

Christian’s eyes flashed dangerously, his jaw and fists clenching at the simultaneously. He turned to go back inside, but Ana skirted around him and stood between him and the door, her hands on his biceps.

“Please, Christian. You can’t make a scene right now. There are hundreds of people in there and half a dozen reporters.”

“You’re telling me that,” he jabbed a finger in the direction of the ballroom, “is the fucker who ignored your limits and your safewords? The guy whose hand you broke trying to get away from him? And you want me to just let him sit there across from us like it was nothing?!”

“Technically it was just a couple of fingers, and yes, I know it’s difficult, but… You have to control yourself.”

Christian gritted his teeth, frustrated beyond belief but unable to deny that Ana was right. Beating the living hell out of Brentwood might make him feel better, but it wasn’t the only way to see justice done. I’ve got the fucker’s name now, he thought, trying to calm himself. He pulled Ana toward him, wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his forehead to hers. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, and when he opened them again, Ana was smiling up at him.

“Better?”

“Not really, but I’ll behave. For now,” he amended, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“Emailing Welch for a background check?” she guessed, taking advantage of his distraction to roll her eyes.

“Of course.” Before she could deliver the sassy retort that was on her tongue, the door behind them opened.

“Fuck,” Ana cursed bitterly. The Fates were not on her side today. Joshua gave them one of his charming smiles, but it faltered when Christian began to move toward him menacingly. Ana stood in front him again, this time with her back to him and his hand clasped in hers. Joshua eyed Christian speculatively and held his hands up to show he meant no harm.

“I just wanted a quick word with Ana,” he said neutrally. “In private.”

“It’s Mrs. Grey. And you can fuck off,” Christian spat. Ana squeezed his hand, and her eyes flickered to the two figures standing in the shadows behind Joshua. The tension eased from her body, and she immediately felt better about the situation. Neither Taylor nor Sawyer would let Christian do anything rash.

“No… You can say whatever it is you want to say, but Christian stays,” Ana declared. Joshua attempted to hide his irritation, and Christian analyzed the man, seeing him differently than he had in the ballroom. He was both alarmed and proud that his wife had held her own with the guy. He was nearly a foot taller than her, and his thickly muscled arms and shoulders made it clear that the gym was his house of worship.

“I… I just wanted to congratulate you on your marriage. You look wonderful… It’s too bad things didn’t work out between us,” Joshua shrugged, flexing his now-healed fingers unconsciously. Though his words were directed at Ana, his eyes were on Christian, watching for a show of surprise at his implication. Christian remained silent, but his expression was one of disgust.

“I’m absolutely certain it was for the best,” Ana replied coldly. “You obviously had needs I couldn’t possibly fulfill.” Like a fetish for consensual nonconsent, she added silently. Joshua’s expression shifted into an unattractive sneer.

“You were a good sub… when you weren’t disobeying commands.”

“And you were a good Dom when you weren’t ignoring my hard limits and violating my consent,” she fired back.

Christian nodded to Taylor and Sawyer, who stepped forward on either side of Joshua. Their faces were grim as they escorted him back through the doors, and Ana winced a little with regret for what they’d overheard. Not that they don’t already know about our lifestyle, but still… awkward.

She turned and slipped her arms around Christian’s waist, leaning up on her tiptoes to peck his lips softly. He rested one hand on her lower back and the other on her cheek.

“In case I don’t say it often enough… I’m so very proud of you, Anastasia. I’ve never known a more incredible person.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, blushing with pleasure at his praise. He’d never been one to hold back on the compliments, but hearing that he was proud of her never failed to make her chest ache with emotion. “I love you, Christian.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Chapter Four

Tuesday October 7, 2014

When Christian and Ana had returned to the ballroom for the awards presentation, Joshua Brentwood had been conspicuously absent. Christian’s eyes had sought out their CPOs as he helped Ana into her seat, but he’d found only Taylor standing near the exit. When Sawyer had reappeared a little while later, he’d been flexing his hand in much the same manner Joshua had done, and Christian and Sawyer had shared a nod of understanding. In that moment, he’d felt exceedingly glad that he hadn’t fired Sawyer as he’d wanted to do last year. Sawyer’s loyalty to Ana was unwavering, and Christian knew that he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. Ana noticed the bruising on his knuckles the next morning as they rode the elevator up to her office, and her heart melted a little.

“You really should have put some ice on that hand last night,” she commented with a sympathetic smile.

“You should see the other guy,” Sawyer winked. Ana laughed and shook her head.

Though she’d never imagined having a full time bodyguard, much less two, she’d made good friends with both of hers. Sawyer took her safety very seriously, but he wasn’t quite as reserved and detached as Taylor often pretended to be. Kent Mathison played the silent, brooding type when he was on the clock, but Ana knew that he also had a good sense of humor. When it was just the three of them, they joked around like lifelong friends, and neither of them had ma’am-ed her in nearly a year, even when Christian was around. Her husband still preferred to keep things professional with his staff, but he had eventually acknowledged that Ana’s friendship with her CPOs had fostered in them a stronger urge to protect her. He would never argue with that which kept her safe.

Sawyer and Mathison usually took turns sitting at a desk outside of her office, and Sawyer took the first watch that morning. Ana spent some time catching up on emails and other correspondence, and after a half an hour or so, Hannah’s voice over the intercom drew her attention.

“Ana, I think you’d better get out here.”

Ana’s gaze flew to her office window and the area where her assistant and security usually sat. Hannah was looking at her in alarm and pointed in Sawyer’s direction. He was talking to two uniformed police officers. Ana grabbed her cell phone and rose quickly from her desk.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she approached them.

“You’re Anastasia Grey?” one of the policemen asked.

“Yes. Has something happened?”

“Are you acquainted with a man named Joshua Brentwood, ma’am?”

Fuck.

“I know who he is, but that’s about the extent of it. What’s this about?” she pressed, glancing nervously at Sawyer, whose expression was guarded.

“Mr. Brentwood filed an assault charge last night against Mr. Sawyer,” the cop explained, gesturing to Sawyer. “He’s your bodyguard, correct?”

“Yes,” Ana replied, texting a quick ‘911’ to both Christian and Taylor. “What was the accusation?” The two policemen glanced at each other, and the taller of the two, who had been silent up to that point, frowned as he replied.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions down at the station, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I didn’t see anything,” she shrugged. “So there’s really nothing for me to say. Are you here to arrest him?”

“We’re hoping that won’t be necessary at this point, ma’am. Right now we’re just trying to ascertain the validity of the claim.”

“Then you can do that here,” Christian’s cool voice spoke up from behind the two policemen. “You can use the security office, but not until Mr. Sawyer’s attorney has arrived.” Ana nodded in agreement, wondering which of her husband’s highly paid lawyers would be called upon.

“That’s really not necessary, Mr. Grey. Right now it’s just an investigation into Mr. Brentwood’s claims.”

“Be that as it may, he will have representation, and if he’s not under arrest, then he’s under no obligation to go anywhere with you. I’m happy to offer a private room where you can conduct your questioning, as I’d prefer not to disrupt my employees’ workday any further. I’m sure you can appreciate the delicacy of the situation,” he said smoothly.

Ana glanced around the main office area and saw that Christian was correct; more than one person was staring. The police officers nodded reluctantly in acceptance of the plan and allowed Taylor to lead them back to the elevator. Once they were out of earshot, Christian addressed Sawyer.

“Let’s take this conversation into Ana’s office. I’m calling my father. He has more clout with the county judges than most of my personal attorneys.”

“You should call Brett too,” Ana suggested as they walked into her office and closed the door behind them. “I know it’s not his department, but he might be able to help in some way.”

“Good idea,” Christian agreed. “In the meantime, Sawyer, don’t say anything to them without a lawyer present.”

“Understood, sir, but he had a legal right to file charges. I’ll accept the consequences, but it doesn’t change how I feel about it. I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Sawyer said firmly. Ana smiled at him fondly as Christian shook his hand in gratitude.

“I know that, and that’s why I’m going to make sure you’ve got plenty of support. Thank you for standing up for my wife. The only thing I’d have liked better would’ve been the chance to beat that fucker’s ass myself.”

Thursday October 9, 2014

Sawyer had been as honest as possible during questioning, only leaving out the specific details of what he’d overheard on the terrace on Monday night for the sake of Ana’s privacy. She had corroborated his story, explaining that she’d had a few dates with Joshua Brentwood a couple of years ago and that he had tried to take advantage of her. Carrick had shown up at Grey House for the interview and been quick to assure everyone that Sawyer’s charitable motives as well as his lack of a record would work in his favor. Still, it had been hard for Ana to watch the policemen lead Sawyer away in handcuffs.

He’d made bail that same day, and Brett had ensured that Sawyer’s experience hadn’t been terribly unpleasant. A formal hearing was scheduled for the following week, and Carrick was confident that he could get the penalty reduced to a fine, which Christian would gladly pay.

“What I don’t understand is why he never filed charges on me for breaking his fingers,” Ana mused aloud as she and Christian rode the elevator to the penthouse. “I mean, if he’s really such a pussy about getting his comeuppance, you’d think he would’ve whined to the cops back then too.” Christian snorted at her colorful language, agreeing with her assessment of Brentwood too much to even pretend to disapprove.

“He probably didn’t want anyone to know that someone like you was able to do that to him.”

“Someone like me?” she echoed.

“Ana, you’re nearly a foot shorter than Brentwood, probably a hundred pounds lighter, and the guy looks like he lives at the gym. The fact that you managed to hurt him at all is impressive.”

She smiled at his compliment as the elevator doors opened. In truth, she hadn’t come away from the botched scene completely unscathed. The bruising on her face had taken days to fade. The reason face-slapping had always been a hard limit for her had more to do with Morton than anything else, but her encounter with Joshua Brentwood had cemented its place on the list. Some of her other limits might have evolved recently, but that one would never change. Ana couldn’t see herself ever being turned on by degrading names or humiliation either. There were many submissives who found that sort of thing arousing, but it would never be the case for her.

Gail was putting the finishing touches on dinner when they arrived, and she greeted them both with a smile. Christian inquired about the menu and went to choose a bottle of wine that would complement the meal.

“Today’s mail is on the counter there, Ana. I hadn’t gotten around to taking it to the study yet,” Gail told her.

“That’s fine; you can leave it. I’m going to go change.”

Ana retreated to the master bedroom and shed her skirt and blouse, selecting a comfortable pair of lounging pants and a t-shirt she had purchased a few months ago to provoke Christian. It was black with white lettering that read ‘I’m sorry, did I roll my eyes

out loud?’ She snickered a little as she pulled it over her head. ‘Poke the Sadist’ was still one of her favorite games.

To her disappointment, however, Christian spared her only a brief glance when she joined him in the kitchen. His attention was focused on the piece of paper he held in his hand, and his face had lost nearly all color. All thoughts of playful teasing forgotten, Ana spotted a torn envelope next to him on the counter, and picked it up to read the return address.

Elena Lincoln ℅ Washington Corrections Center for Women 9601 Bujacich Rd NW Gig Harbor, WA 98332

“What the fuck?” Ana swore, turning to look at her husband again. He swallowed with difficulty and wordlessly handed her the letter before getting up to pour a glass of Johnnie Walker Blue. She watched his hand tremble as he lifted it to his mouth. “Christian?”

“Read it,” he replied, his voice low and angry. Ana chewed her bottom lip for a moment before obeying, sick to her stomach as she began to read.

Dearest Christian,

I hope this letter finds you well. I don’t get to watch the news often, but I do read the newspapers, and I’ve been very pleased to read about the success of GEH. You’ve truly made something of yourself, like I always knew you would. I’m glad that I could be a part of that, even if only in the beginning.

On a related note, I also read the announcement of your wedding. When I first read the engagement notice, I felt sure that it was a false report or that, at the very least, you would back out of it long before you actually made it to the altar. I thought I’d taught you better than that, but perhaps my absence has led you to forget those lessons. And no prenup? What were you thinking? For your sake, I hope that this Anastasia person isn’t just after your money, though I don’t know what else someone like her would see in you. Does she know about your predilections? Is she in the lifestyle as well? Please tell me you didn’t walk away from everything I taught you for a pair of pretty blue eyes.

I’m sorry that I haven’t written to you before now. I wanted to, but I was angry at your refusal to speak on my behalf during my trial. Your testimony would have gone a long way, and I might not even be here now if you’d done right by me back then. I’m sending this letter to give you the opportunity to correct that mistake. You know as well as I do that you owe me greatly for everything I did for you, and now you have a chance to return the favor.

I’m up for early parole in January. My lawyer was able to pull some strings and get the hearing moved up on account of good behavior and overcrowding. I’m permitted to call character witnesses to speak in support of my release, and no testimony would be as effective as yours. The hearing date is January 8th. I can forgive you for failing me last time, but don’t let me down again. You owe me this much, Christian.

Please communicate with my attorney to make the arrangements. I’ve enclosed his information with this letter. He’ll let me know as soon as you contact him.

I look forward to seeing you in January.

Elena

Ana suppressed the urge to heave over the kitchen sink as she finished reading the letter. She folded it up and put it back on the counter, hating that she’d even held something the Bitch Troll had touched. She crossed the kitchen to her husband and gently took the half-empty glass of Scotch from his hand, knocking it back before she lifted the bottle to pour another. The dark liquid burned a smooth trail of fire down her throat, and for the first time, she truly appreciated Christian’s expensive tastes. There was indeed a palatable difference between a fifty dollar glass of Scotch and the cheaper versions she’d tasted in the past.

“Not too much,” she said quietly, watching him swallow another mouthful. “Let’s come up with a plan before we get hammered. You’ll feel better.”

“What plan? There’s no fucking way in hell I’m going to do what she wants. I wouldn’t give her so much as a piece of string if she wanted it, and she really thinks I’m going to speak on her behalf? And what the fuck are they thinking paroling her so soon? She’s not due to be released for another five goddamn years. How can they do that?”

“I don’t know…” Ana shook her head, glancing at the dinner plates Gail had left waiting for them. “Look, let’s eat, okay? I know how you feel about drinking on an empty stomach.”

Christian sighed and nodded reluctantly, kissing her forehead before leading her around the bar and pulling out her chair. The meal Gail had prepared had looked delicious a few minutes ago, but his appetite had vanished. He forced a few bites down anyway, hating the idea of wasted food.

“I think we should call Brett. This was one of his cases, and he probably doesn’t know yet. If he did, I’m sure we would’ve heard from him first,” she pointed out.

“What’s he going to be able to do? It’s up to a judge.”

“Ultimately, yes, but there are some things to consider here. The fact that she’s asking you for help confirms what you’ve always suspected; she doesn’t know that you had a hand in the investigation. And I think that simply ignoring her letter might not be the best decision.”

“Even if she doesn’t know that I was involved, how the hell does she even have the audacity to ask me to speak for her? It’s like even after spending years in jail, she still has no concept of the fact that she did something vile and wrong. She talks like her incarceration is my fault, as if it weren’t her actions that put her there,” Christian growled.

“Some people will never take responsibility for their actions. After everything that’s happened, she still believes she was doing you a favor. It’s disgusting.”

“I used to think of it that way,” he admitted, loathing his former self as he stabbed a piece of chicken with unnecessary force. “She brainwashed me to think that I’d be a drug addicted low life if it weren’t for her. That I’d be as worthless as I believed my birth mother was.”

“But you don’t think that way anymore?” Ana asked, knowing his answer but still feeling the need to gauge his feelings on the matter.

“No. I might not be exactly where I am today, but I had good parents and a bright mind. It would’ve taken me longer, perhaps, but I would still have fought tooth and nail to reach my goals.”

“I know you would have. Do you…” she hesitated, knowing that the topic of his birth mother wasn’t something he liked to discuss. “Do you still believe that your mother was worthless?” Christian met her nervous gaze, and his expression softened.

“No… I think she had me too young and didn’t know how to be a mother. I think she did what she had to do to survive, and when she got in too deep with the wrong people, she simply couldn’t get herself out of it. I’d like to think that she did the best she could with what she had, even if it wasn’t good enough.”

“I agree,” Ana smiled sadly. “I think she must have loved you very much, even if she wasn’t always able to show it.”

Christian sighed, contemplating the situation in silence for a few moments before he pulled his phone from his pocket. He texted Brett with a brief description of what was going on and asked him to call. His phone rang less than two minutes later, and he turned on the speakerphone so that Ana could hear as well.

“Have you heard anything about this, Brett?” Christian asked after they’d exchanged greetings.

“Not a word, but that’s not all that unusual. I’m sure the documentation is working its way through the channels. I’m not all that surprised that she contacted you though. If anything, I’m surprised it’s taken her this long.”

“Oh yeah, apparently she thought she was giving me the silent treatment I deserved for not speaking for her at her trial,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“She’s still quite a piece of work, then. What are your thoughts at this point?”

“I’d like to burn the letter in my fireplace and see her burn in hell.”

“Don’t burn the letter. It could be used as evidence if need be,” Brett argued. “The way I see it, you have a few options.”

“How do you figure?”

“Well, I know you’re not considering speaking on her behalf, but you do have the option to speak out against her release. The state could call you as a negative character witness based on your former association with her.”

Christian frowned, feeling queasy again. Testifying against Elena would reveal to the public that he’d been one of her victims as well as draw attention to his former business ties to her. Is it worth it? he wondered. The picture in his mind wasn’t a pretty one, but it wasn’t a new one either. He’d harbored the same fears a year ago when Mark Kisler had threatened to release pictures of him in Elena’s dungeon. The full extent of Christian’s connection to her becoming public knowledge had the potential to ruin him, and it would put Ana in a difficult position as well. She handled the media fairly well, but the exposure she’d had so far would be a cakewalk compared to the potential fallout he was imagining now.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Christian answered honestly, his eyes full of regret as they gravitated toward his wife. “There’s so much at risk…”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Ana declared, interpreting his expression correctly. “You do what you think is right. I’ll support whatever decision you make. You know that.”

“I know, baby. But I hate the thought of putting you through that.”

“More than you hate the thought of Elena Lincoln walking the streets a free woman?” Brett asked. Christian growled involuntarily, unable to push the images from his mind.

Elena and Ana coming face to face... His parents confronting her... Starting a family with Ana while Elena out there somewhere…

He fought the urge to throw something across the room, and Ana slipped her hand into his, squeezing it encouragingly.

“Look,” Brett said with his usual no-nonsense tone. “The way I see it, you have three options.”

“As many as that?” Christian asked sardonically.

“You can give a live testimony at her hearing and do your best to have your PR department handle the fallout… That would ensure that she’s not released, and if you include that letter in your statement as proof that she really has no remorse for what she did, there’s little chance that she’d get out early at all; overcrowding be damned.”

“Or…?”

“Your second option would be written testimony. It would still become part of the public record, and it wouldn’t carry as much weight as a live testimony, but at least you’d be spared the ordeal of having to say all of this shit out loud. Personally, I’d advise against this option because you’d be taking all of the risk without the full potential gain.

“The third option would be to step back and let my department focus on our efforts to get the other victims to come forward again. They’ve all moved on with their lives, but I’m sure none of them want to see the bitch released any more than you do.”

“Would their testimonies be enough?” Ana asked.

“I don’t know. Depends on how good her attorney is, I suppose.” Christian gave him the name Elena had scribbled onto the bottom of her letter, and Brett sighed. “He’s good. He’ll present her clean behavior record, and she’ll make a show of being remorseful and contrite. He’ll argue for probation, and there’s a good chance they’ll win. She’d still be a registered sex offender, but all she’d need to do is pick up and move to a different city where no one knows who she is. Maybe use her maiden name or something.”

“She’d be a sex offender no matter where she lived,” Ana pointed out.

“Yeah, but that sort of thing wouldn’t come up unless someone knew what they were looking for or did a background check on her. She’s not the type to work a regular job, and as long as she didn’t purchase a house anywhere near a school, she wouldn’t have any legal issues.”

“Fuck,” Christian swore, resting his elbows on the bar and clutching fistfuls of his hair.

“Look, you two have a lot to talk about. Sleep on it, alright? You don’t need to decide anything tonight.”

“Thank you, Brett,” Ana said sincerely.

“Any time. If you guys are up for it, maybe we can all do dinner this weekend, huh?”

“That would be lovely. Tell Celia I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Will do. Goodnight, guys.”

“Goodnight,” Christian replied. “And thank you.” Once he’d ended the call, Christian turned toward his wife with a defeated expression. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Hey… None of that. You have nothing to apologize for. I meant what I said; I’m behind you no matter what you decide.”

“You don’t deserve to be put through that, Ana. The press loves you now, but they can turn so quickly. It might not be possible to keep our lifestyle a secret if certain things come out, and society has a very negative collective opinion of it. And that’s not even half of the problem. If it comes out that I accepted a business loan from someone I knew was a pedophile… That’s it. It’s over.”

Ana watched him with sympathy for a moment then glanced at his half-full plate.

“Let’s put your plate in the fridge for now. You can heat it up if you feel hungry later, but let’s go talk in the other room, okay?”

Christian nodded in agreement and followed her suggestion, leading her right past the living room in favor of the master bedroom instead. He needed to hold her. He needed her as close as possible, and that was more easily achieved if they were lying down. Ana seemed to understand his needs without his having to voice them, and she settled herself on the mattress without a word, holding her arms open for him. He climbed into bed and allowed her to cradle his head against her chest while he wrapped his arms and legs around her body.

“I knew when I accepted that loan that it might come back to bite me,” he admitted quietly. “It was a risk I took out of hubris and the desire to prove my father wrong.”

“How did you justify it back then?”

“Well, my thought process was a bit different then, I suppose. I never thought it would come back on me quite like this. At that point, I still saw her as a positive influence in my life, even though I’d decided that I didn’t particularly agree with her brand of kink. It wasn’t until a couple of years later that I accepted the reality of what she is. Back then, I figured that at most she would want money from me in the future or that she’d want to use my social connections somehow, which of course she did. But I thought that so long as I didn’t piss her off, it wouldn’t be an issue for anyone but me to be concerned with.”

“From that perspective, I guess I can see your logic. It’s hard to imagine you being in such denial about her, but then again, you’d been conditioned to think that way. I’m just glad you don’t see it like that anymore,” Ana replied, running her fingers through his hair in soothing strokes.

“So am I. I can’t even imagine what a mess I’d be today if I’d let her control me the way she wanted to back then.”

“The way she still wants to,” Ana corrected. They were silent for a few moments before she spoke again. “You know, if it does somehow come out publicly… I think if you explained it that way, a lot of people would understand. She groomed you, brainwashed you. It’s what pedophiles do, and there are mountains of research to prove it.”

“It’s hard to get the press to cooperate with logical explanations in that sort of situation, Ana.”

“Well, I just happen to know an honest reporter who would make sure the truth had fair representation,” she smiled. Christian smiled too. His initial reservations about Kate Kavanagh had been reasonable but ultimately unnecessary. She had given them her unwavering support from the very beginning, and her stories about Ana and Christian had set the tone of the media coverage on several occasions since.

“True,” he conceded. “But the loan wouldn’t be the end of it. There’s a very good chance that our lifestyle would come out too. Even if the media somehow failed to connect the dots to at least ask the question, I’m willing to bet Elena would sell the story just to spite me. Especially once she realizes that I’m not going to do a damn thing to help her. It would be the only card she’d have left to play.”

“As difficult as that would be… It might not be the end of the world. It’s not like we’re the only people on the planet who enjoy power exchange and sadomasochism, Christian. It wouldn’t hurt for someone influential to encourage an open dialogue about it. I was able to bring Kate around on it; maybe she could write something to shape and control the message. Too many people see it as something shameful and dirty, but I do think the BDSM community would support us.”

“And our families?” Christian pressed. “Do they deserve to be under the spotlight as well? You know the press would harass them too.” Ana frowned, and he sighed against her. “I don’t disagree with the fact that society in general needs a reality check, but do we really need to be the ones to give it to them? We’d never be able to take it back, Ana. I want a family with you someday, and I’d really rather not have to explain our lifestyle to our children. When they’re adults, maybe, but they’d find out long before that. Long before they’re old enough to really understand.”

Ana lay in contemplative silence, still stroking his hair. She couldn’t deny the logic of his argument. She wasn’t even remotely ashamed of their lifestyle, but she didn’t want to subject their families to the potential media circus that would stem from certain intimate details becoming public knowledge. Christian was right; they didn’t deserve that.

“Let’s follow Brett’s advice and sleep on it,” she suggested. “Like he said, you have plenty of time to make a decision. In the meantime, maybe you can talk to your PR department and get an idea of what the best approach might be when it comes to the press.”

Christian nodded and squeezed her tighter against him. His stomach was still a sour pit of anxiety and disgust, but the warm, clean scent of his wife brought him peace. It soothed him to know that even if he managed to lose everything else in his life, she would always be at his side.

Chapter Five

Sunday October 12, 2014

Christian opened the back door of the SUV so that Ana could step out onto the brick-paved driveway of his parents’ home, continuing the debate they’d been having on the drive over.

“All I’m saying is that if you and Celia are planning more time on the mat, Brett and I should at least get to watch. You two have been at this for months.”

“She’s nervous,” Ana explained. “She made me promise not to let you guys in until she was ready to give a demonstration of what she’s learned.” Several months prior, Brett had given Celia an assignment to learn a bit of self-defense, and Ana had offered to help with her instruction. They’d been practicing with her trainer about once a week, and Celia was progressing well, but the fact that it had been an assignment from her Dom had amped up her perfectionist qualities.

“I thought your trainer said she was doing well.”

“He did, and she is, but it’s still her call. Brett didn’t give her a timeframe for the task, so she’s… being thorough.”

Christian smiled and shook his head a little at his wife’s clever evasion. He’d long since suspected Ana had banned him from her trainer’s facility in order to prevent him from causing a scene over the sight of her sparring. While the idea of his wife being in such close quarters with a man he’d never even met certainly didn’t make him happy, he trusted her above all else. Territorial Christian, as Ana had named his grouchy alter-ego, only made an appearance when another member of his sex forgot their manners.

They continued to banter playfully as they reached his parents’ front door and waited for an answer to Christian’s knock. Grace greeted them with her usual warmth, clearly happy to see them for the second Sunday in a row. She ushered them inside, hugging each of them in turn. Christian was still a bit reserved when hugging anyone other than Ana, but he’d made great strides with his family over the past year. He doubted that he’d ever be able to handle the touch of a stranger, but that limitation didn’t bother him.

He’d decided not to bring up Elena’s letter to his family just yet. As things stood at that moment, Christian truly had no idea what he wanted to do about the situation, and he reasoned that there was no cause to alarm them until he made a decision one way or another.

They could hear Mia and Elliot arguing from the living room as they handed their jackets to the Greys’ blonde housemaid, and Christian guided Ana towards the noise with a hand at the small of her back.

“Come on,” Mia whined. “There will be lots of hot girls there…” She let the figurative carrot dangle from the end of her sentence.

“I’ve already banged too many of your friends,” Elliot muttered.

“Elliot!” Grace chided.

“Come for the alcohol then,” Mia insisted. “And the food. I’m bringing stuff home from work.”

“What are you two arguing about?” Ana asked, taking a seat on the chaise next to Christian.

“Halloween! I’m throwing a party at my place, and you guys have to come! It’s even on a Friday this year, so you have no excuse.”

“It’s a costume party,” Elliot clarified. “Mia, don’t you think we’re just a little bit old for that sort of thing?”

“Says the guy who sent me a video just last week of himself lighting his farts on fire,” Christian said dryly. Everyone laughed but Grace, who fixed her elder son with a glare that barely managed to conceal the amusement in her eyes.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll go if they go, Mia. But good luck getting Christian into a costume. That’ll be a cold day in hell.”

“He has a point,” Christian agreed.

“That’s the beauty of it!” Mia exclaimed. “I already have everyone’s costumes. The party is themed, and so I wanted to coordinate them.”

“What’s the theme?” Ana asked suspiciously. Mia was well-known for her grandiose ideas, and Ana didn’t relish the idea of spending the evening dressed as something ridiculous.

“That part’s a surprise, but I promise you’ll love the costumes. They’re very tasteful.”

“I’ll think about it,” Christian hedged, fully intending to make sure his calendar was full on the evening in question. Ana’s too.

“Mia, when you say ‘hot girls,’ do you mean the friends of yours that I’ve already met or…?”

Ana rolled her eyes and tuned out her brother-in-law, wishing that he and Kate could get their act together. They’d been on and off for the past year. Neither of them felt quite ready for a commitment, but they were constantly drawn together because of Ana and Christian. They had originally split up in January of that year, but they’d ‘hooked up’ many times since. Kate insisted that focusing on her career was more important to her at the moment, but although Elliot played nonchalant about the whole situation, it was impossible to miss the longing in his eyes when Kate was in the room.

Still, Ana thought, the idea of getting Christian in a Halloween costume has merit. It’s damned near impossible to get him out in public without a suit. She wondered if she might be able to convince Mia to let slip the theme of the party before they really committed to showing up. Even she had her limits, and if Mia had gotten it into her head to dress them all as pieces of fruit or zombies or slutty nurses, Ana would have to veto the whole thing.

“You know,” she whispered into her husband’s ear as they made their way to the dining room a short while later, “A costume party might actually be fun.” He looked at her with wary incredulity.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, come on… A little role play…?” Ana trailed off suggestively. She was pleased to see a gleam of interest in Christian’s eyes as he got her less-than-subtle innuendo.

“We wouldn’t have to subject ourselves to a Halloween party for that,” he whispered back, his cock already stirring at the images her words had planted in his head.

“True, but still… it might be a fun way to set the scene.” She grinned at him coyly as he held out her chair and then took the seat next to her.

“We’ll see.”

Ana let the subject drop for the moment but spent a good part of dinner trying to come up with a way to get Mia to spill the beans on the costume plans. The thought of engaging in a little costumed role-play with her husband was only part of the reason for Ana’s interest. The other part was for the distraction the party would provide. They’d been through several months of dealing with one stressful situation after another, and in light of the letter Christian had received, Ana knew that their stress levels weren’t due to improve any time soon. She knew that it would be good for him to get out of his head a bit and do something normal… like celebrate a goofy American holiday by eating junk food and dressing up as a cartoon character.

Christian was only passively listening to the dinner conversation around them. The majority of his mental energy was occupied with imagining what sorts of role-play scenarios he and Ana could incorporate into their playtime. They’d discussed the idea in the past, but they’d yet to actually try it. The thought of exploring new sexual territory with his wife was incredibly tempting, perhaps even worth suffering through one of Mia’s parties.

He was pulled out of his own musings at the touch of his wife’s hand stroking his thigh beneath the table and gradually edging toward his erection with each pass. Christian’s breath caught, and his pants tightened perceptibly. His eyes darted to Ana’s face, but she seemed to be paying him no mind as she engaged in deep conversation with Grace about sights to see in New York on her business trip next month. Christian stifled a groan and placed his hand over hers, holding it away from his crotch.

Ana wiggled her hand out of his grasp and continued her conversation as though nothing had happened. However, only a few minutes later, she was at it again, and this time Christian slopped his wine down his chin when she startled him. Elliot snickered, blissfully unaware of Ana’s devious behavior. Christian leaned over to whisper in her ear, his breath raising goosebumps on her neck.

“Bathroom. Now.”

One at a time, they excused themselves from the table as covertly as possible, and Ana’s heart was racing as she waited for him in the small guest bathroom off of the foyer. She pounced on him the moment he’d closed the door behind him, her lips locking into his while their tongues did battle and their hands wandered.

“What’s gotten into you?” Christian breathed.

By way of answering, Ana dropped to her knees and had his pants undone in less than three seconds. In another heartbeat, she’d swallowed him whole, pushing the tip of him

to the back of her throat. Christian struggled to stay quiet, watching in amazement as she deep throated him. She bobbed her head twice, three times, before pulling him completely out of her mouth and licking the head of his cock. Their eyes met, and he saw a split-second gleam of mischief before she hastily tucked him back into his pants, stood up, and walked out of the room.

Ana giggled under her breath as she returned to the table, sipping her wine innocently before jumping into the conversation between Grace and Mia. Christian eased himself back into his seat a few moments later, and her eyes darted furtively to his face. He was, as usual, a picture of well-mannered composure and polite interest, but Ana recognized a hint of frustration playing about his lips. He speared a bite his salmon a little more forcefully than necessary and cleared his throat a few times.

Christian was aching to take her over his knee for her teasing, especially since he knew that was precisely what Ana wanted, but they couldn’t leave just yet. Would anyone hear her from my old room? he wondered. They’d managed it during the gala last year, but the house had been mostly empty at the time.

For the rest of the evening, Ana’s hands continued to wander, and Christian kept count of just how many times she’d teased him. By the time they were preparing to leave, she was up to twenty-five spankings, not counting her little stunt in the bathroom. He figured that was worth five on its own. Christian shook his head at the smirk she couldn’t quite keep hidden as he helped her into the car.

“Headphones,” he muttered to Taylor and Sawyer, rounding the vehicle to climb into the other side. “And eyes forward.” Both men nodded and kept their expressions neutral; neither was a stranger to their employers’ active sex life.

Ana’s smirk widened into a full blown grin as she watched both CPOs slip their earbuds into their ears, and she bit her bottom lip at the obvious lust in her husband’s eyes. Taylor guided the SUV toward Escala, and Christian stopped her hands as they moved to buckle her seatbelt, catching her chin in a firm grip. Ana felt the moisture trickle through her core, saturating her panties, which had already been a ruined mess for the better part of an hour.

“Topping from the bottom, Mrs. Grey? Apparently you’re in need of a reminder of who’s in charge.” He pulled her lower lip from between her teeth and captured it with his own, sucking on the rosy flesh and eliciting a groan from her chest. Christian released her lip and pulled back to look into her heavy eyes. “Suck my cock.” The whispered instruction made her pulse race, but her playful mood hadn’t waned.

“Or what?” Ana grinned.

With a hungry growl, he lifted her from her seat and lay her face-down across his lap, bringing his palm down on her ass with a resounding slap. It was noisy, even through her clothing, and Christian’s gaze darted to the CPOs in the front seat. Neither gave any indication that they’d heard anything, so he spanked Ana again, refocusing his attention on her.

“‘Or what?’” he repeated her words, slapping her ass a third time. She moaned loudly and squirmed against him, feeling the rigid length of his arousal through his pants. He

punctuated his words with more slaps. “Or earn yourself an attitude adjustment, little girl.” Slap. “Since that’s clearly what you need.” Slap. “Isn’t it?” Slap.

“Yes, Sir,” she panted, perilously close to an orgasm. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d given her a release without even removing her clothing.

“Who’s in charge, princess?” Slap.

“You, Sir.”

“Who controls your pleasure?” Slap.

“You, Sir.”

“Who owns your body?” Slap.

“You, Sir!”

“Who owns your pussy?” Slap.

“You, Sir!”

“Who owns your ass?” Slap.

“You, Sir!”

“Who owns your heart?” Slap.

“You, Sir!”

And with that, she broke, convulsing rhythmically against him as the waves overtook her. Christian covered her mouth with one hand and gripped her ass hard with the other. His command of her body seemed to lengthen her orgasm until she was whimpering against his fingers.

“Oh, Anastasia. Coming without permission? Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me this evening,” he grinned. She nodded and gave a muffled noise of assent. Fuck yes, she moaned inwardly. He helped her back into her seat and buckled her seatbelt, chuckling under his breath at the glaze that had settled over her eyes.

The sound of her heavy breathing filled the quiet space of the SUV, and Christian fought for self-control. He was one breathy moan away from coming in his pants like a teenager. It amazed him that even after a year with Ana, she still had that kind of effect on him. He’d always assumed that the physical aspects of a relationship would fade with time, but he just didn’t see that happening with Ana. If anything, the fact that she was now his wife made her even more appealing to him. His lust for her was as insatiable as it had been that first day in the elevator, and he couldn’t imagine ever feeling differently about her.

Her power over him went far beyond the bedroom or playroom as well. Even now, when his head was still a mess after receiving Elena’s letter, Ana had the ability to clear his mind and redirect his focus solely upon her. She could remind him of what was most important without ever uttering a word on the subject.

Taylor and Sawyer disappeared immediately the moment they stepped out of the elevator and entered the penthouse, and Christian wasted no time sweeping Ana into his arms. To her surprise, he strode right past the staircase and headed for the bedroom instead. She’d

assumed that he would want to continue what they’d started in the car, but Christian had other ideas.

He spent hours worshipping her body that night, from her full lips to the tips of her painted toes, making love to her with the sort of devotion and reverence that most people might associate with a religious experience. Their eyes remained locked on one another as he moved within her, thrusting deep, hard, and slow into her warmth. One orgasm bled into another until Ana had no idea how many times she’d climaxed in his arms, and it seemed that Christian’s appetite for her was never completely satisfied. No matter how many times he came that evening, she could feel him harden again within minutes.

By one a.m., Ana was begging for reprieve. Her center was swollen and warm to the touch, and she didn’t even want to think about how uncomfortable it would be to sit at her desk the following morning. Christian seemed to delight in her soreness but took her pleas to heart nonetheless. He curled up behind her and wrapped his arms around her slender body, pressing his lips to her neck, her cheek, her temple, her hair…

“I love you,” she breathed, her eyes refusing to stay open.

“I love you too, baby. Sleep now, my love.”

Ana murmured a barely audible ‘goodnight’ and was out.

Tuesday October 14, 2014

Christian threaded his fingers through his hair in frustration as he listened to several department heads throw accusations at one another. It wasn’t even nine a.m., and already he wanted to go home and crawl back into bed with his wife. Not that she’d be there, he corrected the thought. He was grateful that his father had been able to intervene on Sawyer’s behalf the day before. Aside from paying a fine and Brentwood’s attorney fees, there was nothing more to be done, and Christian was glad that at least one problem had been resolved easily. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take at the moment.

Barney and Welch had approached him first thing that morning with the latest fuck-up, and to say that Christian was irritated would be an understatement. There had been a security breach of epic proportions, and this time, the privacy of his employees had been compromised. The issue had been brought to their attention the day before by a lower-level manager in Marketing, and when Barney and Welch had begun to investigate the matter, it had become apparent that multiple employees had been the victims of identity theft over the course of the last six months.

“Sir, we’ve only begun to scratch the surface of this mess. There’s every probability that more people will come forward once the word is out,” said Barney, his expression grim.

“That could cause a panic and not just among the staff. Surely there’s a way to handle this quietly?”

“Mr. Grey, we can’t keep something like this to ourselves,” his head of Public Relations argued calmly. Judy McKay was a sharp, confident woman in her early fifties, and Christian had come to admire her instincts. “There are too many people who have been affected, and to be honest, I’m surprised we haven’t heard about it before now. These early reports are from people who keep a close eye on their financial interests and caught some

discrepancies in their credit reports. So far, we only know about the ones who caught it themselves and brought it up while at work. I’m sure there are even more who have been affected but haven’t realized it yet.”

“Are we even sure that the cases are all connected? I employ thousands of people, and identity theft happens all the time, right?” Christian was flustered, his stress level inching higher by the minute.

“That’s why we didn’t come to you right away, sir,” Welch explained. “We wanted to make sure that the incidents were connected, and the most obvious place to start was the personnel records system. There’s clear evidence of a hack, and although it’s a nasty one, it’s not very subtle. The person responsible could’ve taken measures to conceal it better, but he or she either didn’t know how or didn’t care enough to bother.”

“Then it shouldn’t be that difficult to find the culprit. I want this fucker identified as soon as possible.” He knew he was shouting, but he didn’t care. GEH paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to make sure their systems were secure, and the knowledge that someone had breached that security made his blood boil.

“We’re on it, sir. In the meantime, I agree with Mrs. McKay that an announcement of some sort will need to be made. Grant in Marketing may have picked up on it first, just from hearing his colleagues complain about it, but if I can work it out, anyone could. It’s bound to come out one way or another, and if it looks like you knew and didn’t warn your employees, the fallout would be much worse.”

“Exactly,” Judy agreed. “We’ll do the best we can to manage the situation from a PR standpoint, but concealing it would have the potential to backfire severely. We should send a company-wide email and have a system in place to assist those whose information has been compromised.”

Christian stood from his desk and turned his back to the others in the room, staring out of his office windows at the neighboring skyscrapers. He knew the potential damage this mess could do to his company’s reputation. Even if Barney managed to get the hack sorted out quickly, the fallout would take much longer to repair.

“This will go further than the staff,” Christian said, still looking out the window as he shook his head in frustration. “If other companies begin to doubt our ability to even keep our employees’ information private, they won’t want to do business with GEH, and rightly so. That’s the call I would make in their position. It will damage our reputation as a business as well as an employer.”

“The consequences will be worse if we try to keep it to ourselves, sir,” Judy insisted. “We need to make it clear that we’re handling the breach appropriately and that those who have been affected will have our full support in repairing whatever damage has been done.” Christian sighed deeply, begrudgingly accepting her logic.

“Alright,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “I want anyone with access to personnel records double and triple vetted, and I want the name of the culprit on my desk by the end of the week. I want to see plans for improving our information security measures as soon as possible. I also want a team in place to field the reports of identity theft and ensure that the livelihood of those employees and their families is not affected. No one goes hungry

or loses their home because of this; I don’t care if I have to pay their bills out of my own pocket. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the others chorused.

“Good. Judy, get to work on that company-wide email, and send me the draft when it’s ready. Let’s also put together a press release to have ready if this mess goes public. Maybe we’ll get lucky and be able to avoid that, but if it happens, I want to reassure our employees and business partners that the situation is being handled appropriately and with all due haste.”

“Very good, sir,” Judy nodded.

Once the others had left his office, Christian returned to the floor-to-ceiling windows. His eyes stared through them, unseeing, as he contemplated the downward turn his morning had taken. This fallout of this breach would take months to sort out, and the process wouldn’t be a simple one. If even one of his employees discussed the situation with the wrong person, the press would have a field day with the story. There were many in the business world who resented Christian’s success, primarily due to his youth, and they always seemed to be waiting for him to fail. The naysayers would do whatever they could to profit from this situation, and a company’s reputation was not something that could be easily repaired.

The rest of his day was spent managing the new crisis in addition to his already busy schedule. Christian glowered at his wristwatch some eight hours later and sent an apologetic text to his wife stating that he wouldn’t be able to make it home for dinner.

Chapter Six

Wednesday October 29, 2014

Ana sighed listlessly at the solitary dinner plate on the breakfast bar. Christian was working late yet again, despite having worked past dark every day for the last two weeks and straight through the last two weekends. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d shared a meal that had lasted longer than ten minutes and actually included a real conversation. Ana refused to complain, knowing that Christian needed her support right now, but she missed her husband terribly.

She tried to occupy herself in a number of ways. She threw herself into her own work, read more manuscripts than usual, did some volunteer work for one of Grace’s charities, and put in extra time at the gym with Celia. Unfortunately, nothing could distract her from the gloom that seemed to hover over her head. Ana’s feelings frustrated her, but no matter how many times she berated herself for being selfish and needy, the persistent torpor refused to wane.

She’d been looking forward to Mia’s upcoming Halloween party this Friday, but now Ana doubted that Christian would even be able to make it, whether he was willing or not. Mia was still tight-lipped about the theme, but Ana had decided that she would make an appearance even if her husband couldn’t. Anything to break up the monotony of waiting for him to come home would be a welcome change.

Tonight, she had plans to meet up with Celia at the gym, and Ana was looking forward to the excuse to get out of the penthouse for a while. It’s cavernous, marble interior was too sterile and empty when Christian was gone. She hated the fact that she was wallowing, and she hoped that a good workout would boost her endorphins and improve her mood, even if only temporarily.

Ana arrived at the gym before Celia and was thoroughly warmed up by the time her friend joined her. Sawyer and Mathison watched from the sidelines as Ana worked with Matt Brennan, her martial arts trainer. Matt had been training her for years, since she’d first decided to learn, and he often praised her as one of his best students. He was a kind, paternal man whom Ana had liked instantly. It wasn’t a stretch to think of him as a father figure. ...A father who could easily kill a man with his bare hands, Ana mused.

She sparred with Matt first, and when she’d beaten him twice in a row, she called Sawyer and Mathison onto the mat. She took them both on together, eventually managing to hold them each on the floor until they tapped. Ana winced apologetically at the bruise forming on Mathison’s cheek and directed him toward the first aid kit in Matt’s office.

“What’s going on with you?” Celia asked as she watched Ana pummel the bag for a few minutes. “This is the second time you’ve shown up here acting like you’re invincible. I didn’t push last time, but now I want to know.”

“Fuck,” Ana cursed as she hit the punching bag at a bad angle and heard her knuckle crack ominously. She flexed her hand and was relieved that it didn’t appear to be broken. “I

don’t know, Celia. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I go from angry to frustrated to sad to just… numb. I don’t know how to snap myself out of it.”

“What’s Christian say?”

Ana snorted derisively and immediately felt guilty for her attitude.

“Christian doesn’t know,” she admitted glumly. “He’s been working so much for the last couple weeks that we hardly see each other. Some nights he just sleeps a few hours on his office couch and doesn’t come home at all.”

“He’s still dealing with the identify theft hacker thing?” Celia asked. Ana nodded sadly. As Christian had feared, word of the system hack and subsequent identity thefts had indeed been made public, and the backlash from the business community had been severe. Christian’s competitors were giving soundbites to any reporter who would listen, bashing GEH and ridiculing its CEO.

“I know he needs me to be supportive, and I’m really trying. When we have a rare few minutes together, he doesn’t push me away, but I hardly ever see him. I’ve volunteered to help him at work when he stays late, but he refuses and sends me home. I’ve tried to at least connect with him over text or email, but he says he just doesn’t have time to talk unless there’s an emergency. Half the time he sends messages through Taylor or Sawyer.”

“Ana, you need to talk to him. Nothing is going to get resolved if you don’t communicate. Didn’t you guys go through something like this once before?”

“Sort of, but nothing that lasted this long. I want to talk to him, Celia, but there’s just never a good time.”

“You have to make time, and so does he. I know it’s difficult; when Brett gets wrapped up in a case, sometimes it feels like he forgets I exist. You have to get his attention and make him listen. I know he’s going through a hard time right now, but so are you. You have to support each other equally. As for the mood swings and depression, I’m betting there’s a pretty simple explanation.”

“I miss my husband?” Ana suggested a little sarcastically.

“You’re experiencing subdrop,” Celia corrected gently. Ana paused in the act of stretching her hamstrings and met her friend’s gaze. ‘Subdrop’ was the term commonly used to describe the abrupt crash of endorphins following a BDSM scene, and it was one of the reasons aftercare was so important. The resulting depression could last for weeks, depending on the circumstances.

“I thought that only happened right after a scene.”

“Theoretically, yes, but I’ve found that’s not always the case. Have you ever felt it before?”

“No, Christian’s always really good about aftercare and validating whatever I’m feeling after a scene. We haven’t played in weeks, so how can this be subdrop?”

“It’s because you haven’t played in weeks. And because you’re feeling lonely. Your particular case is more like withdrawal. The hormone drop happened gradually, but it still happened,” Celia elaborated.

Ana frowned thoughtfully and considered the situation from that perspective. She hadn’t really thought much about their recent lack of playtime. She missed her husband on many levels, and while power exchange was one of those levels, it wasn’t at the top of the list. She missed talking to him, laughing with him, sharing stories about their day, spending quality time together… Now that Celia had brought it up, however, Ana realized that she was missing her Dom dreadfully as well. It wasn’t really even the kinky sex part, though she woudn’t turn that down if given the opportunity. What she was craving more than anything was that sense of liberation, peace, and safety that she found in submission. She was hungry for that intense connection they had when they were in their respective roles, and the absence of it was suddenly unbearable. Ana felt a twinge in her chest, and her eyes stung a little.

“I didn’t think of that, but you’re right. How do I fix it if I can’t even get a minute alone with him?”

“Like I said, you have to make him listen. Tell him what you’re feeling; don’t leave anything out.”

“I feel like the most selfish person in the world,” Ana admitted softly. “I’m stronger than this. It’s not like he’s out partying without me or screwing other women. He’s working his ass off and handling a very bad situation. He doesn’t have time to deal with me and my needy mood swings right now.”

“Be that as it may, he’d want to know. You know he would. If the roles were reversed, wouldn’t you want to know if he was feeling like this?”

“Yes,” Ana sighed. “Alright… I’ll try to figure out what to say to him.”

“Talking will help, but you may not feel much better emotionally until you have some sort of a scene,” Celia warned. “It doesn’t have to be about sex.”

Ana nodded, already assuming that Christian wouldn’t have time for a visit to the playroom. At this point, she would settle for an hour spent sitting at his feet with her head in his lap. Even just a simple task or two would probably help stabilize things a bit, she thought.

Ana and Celia parted ways a little while later, and it was nearing nine p.m. by the time Ana returned to Escala with Sawyer and Mathison. She was unsurprised to find her husband absent but was disappointed nonetheless. She texted Christian to ask when he might be home and decided to take a quick shower while she waited for a reply. His responses had once been practically instant, but that hadn’t been the case lately. Her phone buzzed just as she was drying her hair.

Don’t wait up. I’ll be at least another couple of hours. I’m sorry, baby. I love you. - C

Ana sighed forlornly and typed her reply.

I love you too. And I miss you. Please don’t leave tomorrow morning without waking me. - A

I promise. Sweet dreams, my love. - C

In spite of the amount of energy she’d worked off at the gym, finding sleep was difficult for Ana that night. She knew that her husband wouldn’t be making an appearance any time soon, but that didn’t stop her from listening for the familiar ding of the elevator. As she lay in bed, her mind played out what she might say to him when they finally had time for a real conversation about things. Celia had been right; they couldn’t go on like this. Ana felt emotionally unstable, and she knew that Christian was the only one who could help her with it. She didn’t expect him to bend over backwards to make her feel better or put the problems at GEH on a backburner for her sake. All she truly needed was for him to let her in, to let her help in whatever way he needed.

Ana finally dozed off a little before midnight, missing the sound of her husband’s arrival by only a few minutes.

Friday October 31, 2014

Ana groaned in exhaustion as she ended a call from her mother. Nothing more had been heard from Morton, and Carla had relaxed somewhat about the whole thing. She didn’t argue over the presence of her CPOs, but she was sounding progressively less anxious with each check-in call. Both Ana and Christian were reluctant to call off the security detail, especially since no one had been able to locate Morton as of yet. The man had managed to disappear off the radar after his visit to Savannah. They’d expected him to make an appearance in Seattle, but so far he was still in the wind.

Christian had kept his promise to wake her on Thursday morning before he left for the office, and Ana had soaked up every morsel of comfort she could find in his embrace. She’d kissed him as though she were starving for his lips, and he’d had to literally pry himself out of her arms so that he and Taylor could leave for Grey House. Unfortunately, he’d been forced to sleep on his office couch yet again last night, and he hadn’t been available to see her at lunch on either day.

Ana left GEH a little early and headed to Mia’s apartment. She’d promised to help with the setup and stay for a little while once the party got started. Mia had managed to convince Elliot to make an appearance as well, though Ana suspected that Kate’s acceptance of her invitation had been the deciding factor for him. When Mia let Ana into the apartment, Ana lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

“I thought you wanted help setting up,” she teased. “Looks like you’ve already done everything.” The spacious living room and open kitchen were decorated with the traditional Halloween favorites in addition to a handful of cardboard cutouts that Ana guessed were related to Mia’s chosen theme. “Superheroes?”

“Yes! Don’t you love it? So many options for costumes, so planning was really easy. I wanted you here early to get you ready. Yours will require hair and makeup,” Mia said excitedly, and Ana did her best to smile at her enthusiasm. “Kate will need it too. She should be here soon.”

Ana followed her sister-in-law down the hallway to her bedroom where a rack of costumes stood waiting for them. She glanced through the outfits, spotting one or two familiar designs, but her eyes widened in shock when Mia held up the one that was designated for her.

“You can’t be serious,” Ana said, her mouth hanging ajar. “Is this supposed to be a joke?”

“Kinda,” Mia giggled deviously. Ana felt the corners of her own mouth turning upward as she studied the frighteningly small article of clothing.

“As jokes go… it’s pretty good,” she admitted.

“My brother will lose his shit, right?” The level of glee in her voice was bordering on inappropriate.

“Your brother won’t even see it. He’ll probably be working all night again.” Ana worried her lower lip apprehensively. There was no way in hell Christian would’ve approved of this costume, and the brat in her wanted to put it on under a trenchcoat and strut into his office. Now that would be a scene, she thought longingly.

“Leave that to me. I’ll get him here one way or another,” Mia promised. Ana frowned doubtfully but didn’t have the heart to quash her optimism. “Now let’s get you dressed! I’ve already got the hot rollers warming up, and I know exactly what to do with your makeup…”

Christian gave a haggard sigh as he and Taylor rode the elevator to the parking garage at Grey House. He was utterly drained and wanted nothing more than to enjoy a hot meal and take a hot bath with his hot wife. A few orgasms before bed are in order too, he mused. He’d been missing his wife terribly, and he knew that the feeling was mutual. Christian couldn’t remember working so many hours since the early days of his company when he’d practically lived in his office for the better part of a month.

Although everyone in his Human Resources department had passed through the vetting process, the hacker had yet to be identified. The other department heads had been charged with reviewing their own staffs, but nothing had come up there either. Christian was beyond frustrated and had threatened to fire Welch and Barney on a daily basis over the past two weeks. New firewalls and protocols had been implemented, but they were no closer to finding the person responsible for the breach.

More than a hundred employees had come forward to report incidents of identity theft within the last six months. The taskforce of sorts that Christian had established worked with each employee on a case-by-case basis, determining what damage had been done and walking them through the steps of resolving it. Most of the social security numbers had been sold to illegal immigrants who had then used the information to work. There were over seventy-five open casefiles with the IRS and the SSA in connection to falsely reported wages. In addition to those issues, nearly every affected employee had fraudulent activity on their credit reports that, in most situations, would take months to resolve.

Helping his employees to recover from the identity theft was only half of Christian’s headache, however. The other half stemmed from the public scrutiny that was now focused on GEH. He’d followed Judy McKay’s advice and opted for full disclosure to his employees in the hopes that his transparency would stymie those who sought to accuse him of corruption. The strategy had been somewhat successful, but it hadn’t stopped his competitors from badmouthing GEH’s security standards at every opportunity. Considering the company’s prominence in the communication technology field and the

rise of privacy as a ‘hot button’ issue, the breach had the potential to do catastrophic damage to GEH’s reputation.

“Sir?” Taylor’s voice pulled Christian out of his thoughts, and he met Taylor’s gaze in the rearview mirror of the SUV.

“Yes?”

“Sawyer just reported that Mrs. Grey is at your sister’s apartment this evening.”

“What? Why?” Christian demanded in frustration. His intense need to see his wife was bordering on pathetic, so much so that he had to fight the urge to throw a Christian Grey tantrum right there in the backseat.

“Miss Grey is hosting a--”

“Halloween party,” Christian finished, cursing in disgust. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and speed dialed his wife, only be sent to voicemail. “What the fuck?” he swore under his breath, dialing Sawyer’s number instead. The noise of a crowded room and loud music preceded the CPO’s greeting.

“Sawyer.”

“Tell my wife it’s time to come home,” Christian ordered abruptly. “Mia doesn’t get to hold her hostage. I know she can be intimidating, but I’m pretty sure you can take her.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll notify Mrs. Grey. Are you headed to Escala as well, sir?”

“We’re pulling in now. And tell Ana to answer her phone,” he added irritably.

“Yes, s--”

“Christian, Ana can’t leave yet,” Mia’s voice interrupted Sawyer’s reply. “The party’s just getting started! Get your ass over here!”

“Mia, I don’t give a fuck about Halloween. I’ve been working around the clock lately, and I’m finally headed home at an almost reasonable hour. I want to spend the evening with my wife, dammit.”

“Then you should definitely come here, because that’s where she is. And she looks hot,” his sister giggled. “I even had your costume sent over to Escala. Gail put it on your bed, so get changed and come over! Bye!”

“Mia--”

Christian cursed again as the line went dead. He didn’t have the patience for this, and it took all of his self-control not to chuck his phone against the marble floor of the foyer when he stepped out of the elevator. He was glad that he didn’t, because a few seconds later, it rang in his hand.

“Ana,” he said in relief as he answered the call.

“Christian? I’m sorry; I didn’t hear my phone earlier. Mia says you’re coming over? Did you see your costume?” Her voice was audibly excited, and Christian’s heart ached a little. He knew that he’d been neglecting her a bit lately, and he hated himself for it. At that moment, it sounded as though her elation at the prospect of seeing him was something akin to Christmas morning for a five-year-old.

“I… Ana, just come home, baby. I want to see you. I need you.”

“I need you too, Christian. Look… I’ll try to sneak out, but Mia is being rather militant about getting you here and keeping me from leaving.”

“Baby, you have two muscled bodyguards. I think you’ll manage.”

“Sorry, have you met your sister?”

Christian sighed wearily as he opened the door to the bedroom and flipped the lightswitch. His eye was immediately drawn to the bed where his gifted Halloween costume lay. It was a US Air Force uniform, but it wasn’t a modern design. If he had to guess, he would place it in the WWII era. What the fuck?

“Did she go for some military theme?” he asked in confusion, frowning at the dress uniform. His wife giggled.

“No, but if I had to guess, I’d say right now you’re looking at a WWII Air Force uniform. Am I correct?”

“How did you know?”

“Our costumes are coordinated. I’m dressed as your um… girlfriend, I guess.”

“Who am I supposed to be? Who are you supposed to be?”

“Actually, I think you should come to the party and find out, Mr. Grey. It would do you good to cut loose a little. You’ve been working so hard,” she insisted. Christian could hear a hint of mischief in her tone and recalled his sister’s comment about Ana looking hot.

“Anastasia,” his voice dropped half an octave, and Ana felt her stomach clench. “What are you wearing right now?”

“Um… It’s kind of hard to describe. You should just come over. Pleeeeease?” He sighed and began to change his clothes. He’d never been one to deny her anything, a fact she knew all too well.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I’ll make an appearance, but then we’re leaving. I want you all to myself, Mrs. Grey.”

“Deal! Love you!”

“I love you too,” he chuckled, shaking his head as they ended the call.

Christian had a feeling that he wasn’t going to care for Mia’s choice of wardrobe for Ana, and his mind flicked through the terrifying possibilities. She always looks hot, but if Mia thinks so, then she probably dressed her in some token naughty costume. Maybe a slutty army nurse? he wondered, buttoning the dress uniform and eyeing himself in the mirror.

He had to admit, he could see the appeal of a man in uniform, from a purely empirical standpoint. Brown wasn’t typically his color, but the cut of the jacket flattered his broad shoulders and toned biceps. As replicas went, Mia had managed to find a good one. Christian grabbed his cell and wallet before leaving the room. Taylor regarded him with barely concealed humor and followed him into the elevator, wisely deciding to remain silent about the change in plan.

When they reached Mia’s apartment building some ten minutes later, it was clear that she wasn’t the only one hosting a party. Costumed adults loitered around the lobby and the hallway outside of her apartment, but no one else seemed to be dressed as a soldier. Christian was even more mystified over the theme as he spotted a cardboard cutout of Spider Man just inside the door to her apartment. His eyes scanned the crowd in search of his wife, and he noticed that the majority of Mia’s guests were dressed as comic book superheroes. Elliot was garbed as the Joker, and his lips were firmly attached to the neck of a Harley Quinn look-a-like, who Christian assumed was Kate Kavanagh. Sean, Mia’s occasional boyfriend, was dressed as Superman, and Christian shuddered in revulsion, feeling immensely grateful that his sister hadn’t tried to dress him in tights. He wove his way through the crowd until he spotted Sawyer, who pointed toward the kitchen where a patriotically dressed brunette was serving a round of shots to a group of Mia’s frat-boy friends.

It took Christian only a moment to realize with horror that the stunning Amazonian goddess was his wife.

Chapter Seven

Friday October 31, 2014

Red. For a split second, it was all he could see, but when he blinked in disbelief, he noticed the other colors of her costume. Blue, white, gold, and yes, red. Christian’s lips tightened, and he felt his face grow hot with anger and lust.

Fucking Wonder Woman. His sister had dressed his wife as Wonder Woman and him, apparently, as Steve Trevor. Ana’s long brown hair was loose in curly waves over bare shoulders, accented by the signature gold headband. Her breasts were thrust upward by her red and gold corset, narrowing her waist even more than usual above the feminine swell of her hips. Her star-spangled bottoms clung to her like a second skin, hugging her ass in a way that was almost indecent. The metal forearm bracelets gleamed in the low lighting, and her ‘Lasso of Truth’ was coiled at her hip. The only departure from the traditional costume was the diamond collar around her neck and the wedding ring on her left hand.

Ana’s cheeks were flushed from the heat of the overcrowded apartment and the attention of Mia’s guests. Though she would never have chosen such a revealing costume for herself, she had to admit that it did make her feel attractive. She’d been making drinks for the better part of a half an hour, pausing only to talk to her husband on the phone, and she’d received dozens of compliments. Several of Mia’s more flirtatious guests had made her feel a little uncomfortable, but it helped knowing that Sawyer and Mathison were hovering nearby.

A tingle of electricity shot down her spine and compelled her to look up from the cocktail she was mixing. Ana’s mouth went dry as she locked eyes on her husband. Holy fuck, she moaned inwardly. Christian in uniform was downright sinful, but even without the enhancement of the costume, his Dominant, commanding presence would’ve had her trembling in her knee-high boots. The crowd seemed to melt from his path as he moved through them, but he paid them no mind. His eyes were fixed on his wife. Ana gulped at the dangerous expression on his face, and if they’d been alone, she’d have fallen to her knees then and there. She managed to stay upright, but her eyes lowered of their own accord, her lips fighting a smile she knew would infuriate him further.

Christian was hard as granite, and his blood was boiling in more ways than one as he joined her in the kitchen. As if the sight of her in that costume weren’t enough, she was subtly but very publicly submitting to him. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to whip off his uniform jacket and shield her from the eyes of the men in the room or toss her over his shoulder, carry her home, and fuck the living hell out of her. He settled for staking his claim.

He slid one hand behind her lower back and pulled her against him, using the other hand to tip her jaw upward. Christian seized her lips with a passion that seemed to make the air around them crackle with sexual energy. Ana melted against him, and the sounds and smells of the party faded until there was only him. Her husband, her lover, her Dom. She

was breathless when he finally lifted his mouth from hers and turned his head to scowl at their audience.

“Make your own drinks,” he growled. “My wife has better things to do.”

“I’ll say,” one of the frat boys muttered sarcastically, his eyes locked on Ana’s heaving chest. Before Christian could berate his rudeness, however, Mia appeared at his side.

“That was quite the display of testosterone,” she said with a dry chuckle. “And I know you’re about to go all caveman and high-tail it out of here, but you guys have to stay at least an hour. And you’re not allowed to punch anyone for staring at her, Christian. Your wife is hot. Get over it.”

“The fuck we’re staying an hour. We’re leaving right now, and you are never going to choose her clothing again,” he decreed, still hot with anger. Christian glanced down at Mia’s attire and recalled the Superman number he’d seen Sean wearing. Mia’s tailored jacket, pencil skirt, and miniature notebook were clearly meant to represent Lois Lane.

“Come on!” she whined. “You’ve been working nonstop lately; cut loose and have a little fun! Act your age for once!”

“Christian,” Ana’s soft voice reclaimed his attention. When his eyes darted back to her, he was overwhelmed once again by the sight of her in costume. “Maybe we could just stay a little while longer?”

Christian pursed his lips but said nothing as he put an arm around Ana’s shoulder and ushered her out of the kitchen and down the hallway to one of Mia’s guest rooms. He’d have thrown her over his shoulder if it weren’t for the fear that her breasts might fall right out of her costume. When they entered the bedroom, he slammed the door and shoved her against it, capturing her lips with his own once again.

“Mine,” he growled in her ear, his hands exploring her curves with proprietary admiration. “You seem to have forgotten, Mrs. Grey. Everyone of those adolescent fuckers was ogling what belongs to me, and I won’t have it.” He brought one hand to her throat and forced her to meet his gaze, her heart hammering in her chest. “Say it, little girl,” he commanded.

“Yours, Sir,” she whispered.

“Good girl.”

Christian reached behind her to lock the door, and Ana felt her core dampen with the knowledge of what was coming. Their playtime had really never been restricted to the playroom, but the risk of being caught always seemed to heighten the experience. She was more of an exhibitionist than Christian, but his territorial nature prohibited them from truly putting on a show for anyone the way Brett and Celia sometimes performed at the club. Tonight, however, Christian was half tempted to take her with the door standing wide open. He wanted every last gawking party guest to be left with no doubt that she was his.

Ana gasped as his hands gripped her ass tightly and lifted her, pressing her crotch against the erection that was waging war with the zipper of his trousers. Christian carried her over to the neatly made bed and set her on her feet before stepping back to look at her again.

Now that they were away from the crowd of lusting frat boys, he could admire her without the competing urge to bash anyone’s face in.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed, unbuttoning his uniform jacket and tossing it over a nearby chair. “Just when I think you can’t get any hotter, any more stunningly gorgeous… You prove me wrong. Time and time again.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Ana blushed. Every nerve in her body seemed to be on high alert, quivering beneath his heated gaze. Christian’s hand moved to the coil of soft golden rope hanging from her hip, and his lips quirked upward mischievously.

“I think we can do something with this, princess,” he crooned. Ana swallowed thickly and nodded, unable to find her voice. “Don’t move.”

She stayed in place as Christian moved about the room, opening the closet door to search for anything else he could use in a pinch. He’d have preferred to have her in his playroom that night, but there was simply no way they were going to make it that far. He needed to claim her, to be inside of her, to make her come so hard that her screams of ecstasy would be heard by everyone who had admired her charms that night. But above all of that, Christian needed to rekindle the connection they’d both been missing over the last two weeks, and he knew that Ana was equally hungry for it. He returned to her with a couple of objects in his hands, and her pulse fluttered erratically when she caught sight of them. Christian had managed to find a wide leather belt and a red silk scarf.

“Would you like to play, Anastasia?”

“Yes, Sir,” she moaned.

He nodded his approval and turned her to face the bed, drawing her arms behind her back and rigging them with the gold rope from her costume. Christian shook his head again at Mia’s choice of costume, wondering if the irony had been intentional. The creator of Wonder Woman had been a polyamorous fetishist who was heavily into bondage and submission. Mia, as well as the rest of his family, had known about his lifestyle for over a year, but it rarely came up in conversation. If the costume choice was Mia’s idea of a joke, he was grudgingly impressed with her audacity.

Christian was pleased to find that the rope was quite a bit longer than it had appeared while hanging from Ana’s hip, and he was able to knot it skillfully over her arms, torso, and thighs. Her arms were bound straight down her back so that her joined hands rested against the swell of her buttocks. Next, he took the red scarf and twisted it slightly to create a gag, tying it securely behind her head.

“Snap your fingers if you want me to stop. Understood?”

Ana nodded and whimpered a little through the gag. He eased her shoulders downward so that she was bent over the bed and used his foot to nudge her legs further apart. There was so little material on her lower half that the thin, star-spangled spandex rode up to reveal the lush curves of her buttocks. Christian groaned as his hands massaged them appreciatively, landing a few hard slaps to each cheek to warm her up.

He picked up the belt he’d found in the closet and folded it in half, fisting it in his hand and testing the weight. It was of a lighter weight than what he usually preferred to use on

her, but it was also wider. The leather was soft and supple, and Christian knew that there would be more sting than thud with each strike.

The first snap of the belt caught Ana by surprise, and she flinched in spite of herself. The second and third strikes were harder, and by the fourth, she was panting into the mattress. The fifth connected at the tops of her thighs, and she cried out against the gag. Christian paused to caress her tender skin, easing the pleasant sting into a delicious warmth. Ana wiggled against his hand, desperate for his touch at the place she needed it most.

“Ah, ah, princess. You’ll come when I allow it and not a moment before.”

His hand disappeared, and he brought the belt down again and again. By the tenth strike, Ana was shaking with need, whimpering her pleas for release but unable to speak the words. She heard the belt drop to the floor and felt Christian’s hands at her core, pulling the thin material of her costume aside. He knelt behind her and thrust his tongue into her warmth, bringing a cry of ecstasy from her throat. His tongue moved in long upward strokes, pushing her toward the brink and holding her there for several long minutes.

“Come in my mouth, Anastasia. Let me taste you,” he commanded gently. His lips sucked hard on her clit, drawing it into his mouth so that he could tease it with his tongue simultaneously. Her essence flooded his mouth as she came spectacularly, her screams muffled by the mattress and the gag. Her legs shook as the aftershocks continued to roll through her, and Christian didn’t release her clit until she started to struggle in earnest, seeking mercy from the continued stimulation of her oversensitive flesh.

Christian’s arousal was painful, and he shed his pants and shoes quickly before adjusting Ana’s position. He helped her to climb on the bed, keeping her head and shoulders down while her ass rose into the air. He retrieved the belt from the floor and knelt behind her on the bed, passing the strip of leather beneath her hips and holding an end in each hand. Ana shouted against the gag as he thrust his entire length into her with one stroke, filling her until he bottomed out within her, then drawing back to repeat the movement. Christian used the belt to pull her hips against him, easing the burden of his thrusts on her upper body since her arms were bound behind her back.

“Is this what you needed, little girl? To feel my cock filling you up? To be tied up and fucked until you can’t take anymore?” he asked in his low, Dominant voice. “I think you’ve missed this as much as I have. I’ve been dreaming about pounding your tight little pussy for weeks.”

Ana groaned, as aroused by his words as she was by the hard and rapid movements of his hips against hers. Her breasts had spilled out of her corset and were pressed against the mattress, and the embroidered material of the comforter stimulated her nipples. Fuck yes, I needed this, she agreed silently. Harder, Sir…

Christian continued to slam into her, edging her closer and closer to a second climax. When he felt her walls begin to flutter, he gently pushed his thumb against her tight rosebud and ordered her to come. She screamed so loud that for a brief moment, he wondered if she’d managed to free herself of the gag. The rhythmic spasms of her orgasm were more than his cock could take, and he exploded into her with a roar of satisfaction.

Ana’s body fell limply to the mattress as he pulled out of her, and he hurried to remove the gag and ropes. She rolled onto her side, easing her arms into a more natural position

as Christian reached out to caress her exposed breasts. He curled up on the bed behind her, holding her tightly to his chest and pressing his lips to her bare shoulder.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you, baby,” he breathed into her dark, curly hair. Ana turned her head slightly so that she could kiss him. When they parted, she was smiling more brightly than she had in weeks. He felt simultaneously pleased at her happiness and guilty that the change was so obvious. “You’ve been needing this for a while, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” she admitted softly, hiding her face slightly.

“I’m so sorry, Ana. Why didn’t you tell me I was neglecting you like that?” Christian frowned, troubled at the realization that she’d been suffering in silence. Ana rolled over to face him and stroked his stubbled cheek tenderly.

“You’ve had more than enough on your plate lately, Christian. I didn’t want to be… needy like that. You work so hard, and you take such good care of me. Asking for more from you seems unfair.”

“Is this why you’ve been moody lately? I know you’ve been trying to hide it from me, but Brett texted me earlier today asking if you were alright. Apparently Celia is worried,” he explained, feeling guilty.

“We talked for a little while at the gym the other night. She thinks it’s some kind of subdrop,” Ana replied quietly.

“Fuck,” he winced, cursing himself for having failed her. “I’m sorry, baby. You have to tell me when you’re feeling that way. I need to know. We’ve been through this before, and my opinion hasn’t changed. If you feel like you need a scene, then you should never be afraid to tell me that. I want to know. I love being the one to meet those needs, and it’s my responsibility as your Dom, one I value very highly.”

“I’m sorry,” Ana whispered. “I just didn’t want to burden you with anything else when everything has been falling apart at work lately.” His brow furrowed, and he cupped her jaw with his large hand, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“You are never a burden, Anastasia. I like that you need me. It makes me feel important… loved.”

“You’re both of those things, Mr. Grey,” she smiled, kissing him softly.

“So are you. You’re the most important person in my life, and you will always come first. I can’t promise that I’ll always have the time or energy for a full scene, but I can promise to make more of an effort to work some power exchange into our daily routines. More than that, though… I’ll try harder to make sure we always have at least a little time together every day.”

“No more sleeping in the office?” she grinned hopefully. He smiled back and squeezed her tightly against him.

“Not unless you’re there too, Mrs. Grey.”

Wednesday November 5, 2014

Ana squirmed self-consciously at her desk, supremely aware of her lack of undergarments while she watched the clock tick slowly closer to her lunch hour. She had a lunch date with her husband, and she knew that they would be doing more than enjoying a meal together. Christian had given her a task or two every day since Halloween, and Ana had been thoroughly enjoying the addition to their routine. Her mood swings had stabilized, and she even had more energy, which allowed her to focus a little more on making Christian’s life easier in whatever ways she could. She’d begun colluding with Andrea to make sure that he was eating regularly, and on more than one occasion, she’d dragged him from his office or study late at night and demanded that he get some sleep.

When it was finally time to head up to his office for lunch, Ana rode the elevator up with Sawyer, whose expression remained impassive. It had been poor Sawyer who had stood guard outside of Mia’s guest room on Halloween, preventing anyone from disturbing them. He’d avoided eye contact with her for the rest of the weekend, and even now, Ana couldn’t help but blush at the memory of her own lack of inhibition. The elevator doors opened into the executive lobby, and Andrea greeted her warmly before waving her through to Christian’s office.

Kara, who had replaced Olivia shortly after the new year, smiled kindly and handed her the lunch Christian had ordered for them. Ana didn’t know Kara all that well, but she liked her well enough, since just about anyone would’ve been an improvement over her predecessor. Olivia had reacted poorly to the announcement of her boss’s engagement, and she’d made the mistake of voicing her opinion within earshot of Christian. He’d fired her on the spot and hired Kara Walters less than a week later. Kara was sweet woman in her mid-forties, and by all appearances, she was both well-mannered and competent in her job.

Ana thanked her for the food and slipped into Christian’s office. She locked the door and paused to admire her handsome husband as he sat behind his desk, issuing instructions to whomever was on the other end of his phone call. He gave her his panty-dropping smile, and Ana giggled, shaking her head at the irony. He’d had her panties in his pocket since the ride to work that morning.

Christian watched her place the to-go containers on the conference table and beckoned her toward him, pointing at a pillow he’d apparently placed on the floor before she’d arrived. Ana sighed happily and kicked off her shoes before settling herself on the pillow. She lay her head in his lap and closed her eyes, welcoming the familiar blanket of peace that always enveloped her at times like this. He alternated between stroking her silky hair and tracing the delicate bone structure of her face. Ana was reminded of the first time she’d knelt on his office floor. She’d been needing a scene then as well, and he’d more than come through for her.

After ten minutes or so, he ended his phone call and gave her his full attention, smiling down at her with so much love in his gray eyes that Ana felt her breath catch in her chest. She lifted her head and climbed onto his lap, letting his heady, masculine scent fill her lungs.

“Mrs. Grey,” he crooned, pressing his lips to her temple. “How’s your day?”

“Looking up, Mr. Grey.” They shared a smile and another sweet kiss.

“Mine too. Especially because I plan to have my dessert before lunch.” Christian helped her to stand and reached behind her to move a couple of things on his desk. He then reached into his pocket to retrieve the black lace thong she’d surrendered to him that morning. “Now, perhaps if you’re a very good girl, you can have these back before you return to your office.”

“I’ll do my best, Sir,” Ana grinned.

“I know you will. Now lay back, princess. Show me how wet you are.”

Ana did as she was told, leaning back onto the desk and resting her weight upon her elbows. She kept her head upright so that she could watch his expression as he parted her legs and pushed her skirt up over her hips. Christian had been somewhat torn over his desire to confiscate her panties that day, since he hated the thought that one of her gawking male coworkers might be able to detect the scent of her arousal. He was happy with his decision now, however, because this little game would’ve been more difficult had she been wearing pants.

His fingers found her center, and, sure enough, she was dripping for him. Christian’s mouth watered at the sight of her glistening folds, unable to let another second pass without tasting her. He worshipped her with his mouth for several long minutes, watching as her jaw fell open and her eyes clouded with lust. Ana threw her head back with a gasp when he bit down on her clit, and suddenly Christian was desperate to fuck the pale, slender throat she revealed.

He stood abruptly and helped her to turn her body in the opposite direction so that her feet perched on the front edge of his desk and her head dangled over the side where he usually sat. Christian nearly popped the button off of his pants in his haste to free his erection, and Ana moaned hungrily as he touched it to her open lips. The angle was awkward for her neck, but it made it much easier to deep-throat him, and she held tightly to the desk as he thrust himself in an out of her mouth.

Christian reached over her body to touch her exposed pussy, fingering her lightly for several minutes before pulling his hand back to deliver a sharp slap to the slick flesh. Ana cried out in surprise, the sound muffled by his cock as he fucked her face.

“I want you to come like this, little girl. Come for me while I’m fucking your sweet mouth.”

Ana relaxed her muscles and stopped trying to resist the orgasm that was barrelling toward her. He spanked her pussy again, this time keeping his hand in place and curling his fingers inside of her. She whimpered and trembled as the waves of her climax overtook her, losing herself in the delicious tremors that shook her body from head to toe.

“Fuck!” Christian shouted, finding his own release at the back of her throat. Swallowing was more difficult in this position, but Ana managed every drop, sucking him clean until his over-sensitized flesh could bare no more.

They smiled at one another as Christian helped her off the desk and righted her clothing. He led her into the private bathroom and took a few minutes to clean her up, wiping away the traces of their mingled fluids and brushing through her tangled hair. Ana pushed herself onto her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pouring every ounce of her love into a kiss that left him breathless and hungry for more.

“Keep that up, and we won’t have time for food at all, baby,” he warned. Ana grinned and gave a playful shrug, taking his hand and pulling him toward the conference table.

“Let’s eat then. You won’t be missing any more meals on my watch, Mr. Grey.” Christian chuckled and allowed her to push him into the chair on the end.

“It seems you’ve already forgotten who’s in charge,” he teased. “I’m not sure how I feel about you bossing me around.”

“As much as it may be your responsibility to take care of me, it’s my responsibility to do the same for you,” Ana smiled. “Especially when you refuse to take care of yourself. Now eat.” Christian laughed and obediently tucked into his meal, regarding her with playful speculation. She caught his gaze and rolled her eyes, demonstrating her uncanny ability to read his mind. “We’ve already had this discussion.”

“You have to admit…”

“Just because I enjoy taking care of my man doesn’t mean I’m a Switch, Christian.”

He held up his hands in surrender and continued to smirk as he took another bite of his sandwich. Not long after Ana’s impressively executed takedown of Mark Kisler, Christian had brought up the fact that she had behaved a little like a Domme. He’d asked if she had ever considered switching roles in the playroom, and she’d laughed out loud at the suggestion.

“Christian, I may have been able to play the part for a few minutes just to see the little weasel squirm, but I’m no Domme,” she’d told him.

“I’m only asking because if it was something you wanted to explore, I’d be willing to try it. For you.”

“You’d submit to me?” Ana had asked incredulously, intrigued despite having just laughed in his face at the idea.

“You’re the only one I’d submit to. You’re more than worthy of it, and you have my complete trust. I couldn’t promise that I wouldn’t struggle with it a little, but I’d try if that’s what you wanted.” In truth, the prospect had daunted him more than he’d been willing to let on. Christian had wanted to fulfill every single one of her fantasies, but his past experience with submission had left him a little more traumatized than he’d ever wanted to admit. Still, if she’d wanted to try switching roles, he wouldn’t have wanted to stifle her.

“Christian, that’s incredibly sweet of you, and I’m so happy that I have your trust,” she’d said, gazing at him lovingly. “But I have no desire to Dominate you. I might playfully boss you around a bit and Top from the bottom here and there, but I’m really just hoping for a spanking,” she’d giggled.

Christian smiled at the memory of that conversation as he watched her nibble on her own sandwich. He’d teased her about it a few times since then, but the subject of switching roles had never truly been on the table again. His opinion on the matter hadn’t changed, however; he was more than willing to try if she ever decided it was something she wanted.

“What time do you think you’ll be home tonight?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I’m hoping to be able to leave with you and spend the evening worshipping that gorgeous body of yours, Mrs. Grey.”

“You won’t hear me complaining,” Ana chuckled at his mischievous expression. “I do have to finish packing though. I need to be at the airport by nine tomorrow.”

“Well, at least you know the jet won’t leave without you.” His smile fell a bit as he continued, “I’m sorry I can’t come to New York with you.”

“Don’t be,” she insisted. “I’ll be working pretty much all weekend anyway, and you have plenty to focus on here. Taylor has already agreed to take over with making sure you eat and sleep, and you’d be wise to listen to him.”

“You do realize that he takes orders from me, right? Not the other way around.”

“Then you’d prefer I call your mother?” Ana smiled innocently. Christian scowled and went back to his meal.

“No, thank you,” he muttered.

Chapter Eight

Thursday November 6, 2014

Christian sighed in disgust as he stared up at his bedroom ceiling. He’d been berating himself for nearly an hour for being so co-dependent that he couldn’t fall asleep without his wife in bed beside him. Pathetic, he grunted inwardly. Ana had left early that morning to fly to New York for a fiction symposium, and although he would have loved to join her, there was still too much going on at GEH to allow him to take that many days off. She was staying at their apartment, and although he knew that Sawyer and Mathison would keep her safe, the distance between them made him anxious. Other than the nights he’d slept on his office couch, they hadn’t spent a night apart since she’d moved in with him. Christian had never expected to feel so much separation anxiety, and he wondered if his wife was suffering as well.

Eventually, and to his surprise, he did manage to fall asleep. Not surprisingly, his nightmares ruined any chance of peaceful slumber. They weren’t the standard recreation of the trauma of his toddler years, however. This time, Ana played a starring role. He was bound and helpless in Elena’s dungeon while Ana took a beating at the hands of his former Domme. Christian screamed and struggled against his metal shackles, but Elena merely laughed, fixing him with a malicious smile as she summoned someone else into the room. Ella’s pimp was as dirty and revolting as he remembered, and the familiar smell of his cigarette made Christian’s stomach heave. He fought harder to free himself, screaming at both of his abusers to stay the hell away from his wife. The pimp rubbed his crotch appreciatively as he studied Ana, her back covered with bloody welts from Elena’s whip. She shrieked in pain when the end of his cigarette was pushed into one of the welts, and Christian screamed as well, bolting upright in bed.

He was instantly on his feet, running to the bathroom and making it to the toilet just in time for his dinner to make a reappearance. He heaved until his stomach was empty and stumbled to the sink to splash cool water in his face. Christian gazed at his pale complexion in the mirror for a few moments before brushing his teeth.

Pathetic, he chastised himself. The clock on the nightstand told him that he’d only been asleep for a few hours and that dawn was still quite a ways off. He scrubbed a hand over his face and flopped backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling once again. She’s fine. She’s safe, and that bitch is in jail, he thought, trying to reassure himself. He didn’t know where the pimp was, but if there was any justice in the world, the man was in the ground somewhere. Christian lasted another ten minutes before caving in to the desire to check in with Sawyer. He knew that Ana would be asleep, but it was after five in New York. Sawyer just might be awake…

Ana’s CPO answered on the third ring, his voice slightly lethargic. Christian couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty for waking him, however, and he insisted on holding while Sawyer checked on Ana. He reported back that she was indeed sleeping soundly, and Christian

declined the offer to wake her. After thanking Sawyer and ending the call, he headed for the piano. Old habits die very hard indeed, he grimaced.

As his fingers found the notes of the piece he’d heard Ana play not long ago, he tried to analyze his nightmare objectively. The pimp was nothing new, and it wasn’t even the first time he’d dreamed about Ana. His fears about her safety on her motorcycle had tormented his dreams on more than one occasion. Elena was the new element, and it didn’t take a genius to understand why.

Christian had yet to make a decision about her parole hearing, and when things at GEH had gone downhill again recently, he’d seized the opportunity to put it out of his mind. He’d told himself that there were more important things to worry about than the pedophile, and while he hadn’t necessarily been wrong about that, Christian had to acknowledge that perhaps his subconscious wasn’t able to let go of the matter that easily.

His first instinct was to speak out against the bitch and revel in the stunned expression that would no doubt be on her face if he testified. She would finally understand the part he’d played in putting her behind bars, and the fifteen-year-old victim inside of him very much wanted to see that. However, the instinct to guard his privacy and protect his family from the unfair judgement of the public was nearly as strong as his need for closure. Christian knew that his wife and his marriage were strong enough to withstand the criticism, but the fact remained that their families didn’t deserve to go through it as well. They would be ridiculed right alongside them: guilty by association.

He finished the song and lifted his hands from the keys, sighing with exhaustion as he gazed blindly at the glittering Seattle skyline. It was a view he’d taken in hundreds of times on the nights he’d spent dodging the demons of his past. Before Ana, he smiled softly. Christian gave himself a mental shake and berated himself yet again for his own perceived weakness, heading for his study rather than his bed.

May as well get some work done.

Saturday November 8, 2014

Ana smiled politely at her dinner companions, pretending to follow their heated debate about the rise of dystopian themes in young adult fiction. She’d enjoyed her time in New York, and she’d found the symposium to be very interesting, albeit a bit less formal than she’d expected. Several editors from other publishing companies on the west coast had invited her to join their group at a local restaurant, and Ana had welcomed the opportunity to network. Her distraction, however, was due to the persistent stare of an attractive, dark-haired man a few tables away.

Although he looked oddly familiar, Ana couldn’t quite place him; she assumed that he was perhaps another attendee at the symposium. She had no desire to encourage his apparent fixation with her, so she forced herself not to make eye contact. As the minutes ticked by, however, she found it impossible to ignore him. The man was staring at her in a way that made her feel as though she were sitting there naked rather than in a Marc Jacobs cocktail dress.

From his post a short distance away, Sawyer noticed Ana’s behavior and followed her gaze across the room, raising his eyebrows in recognition when he found the source of her

discomfort. She wanted to ask him for the stranger’s name, but before she could do so, the man in question had risen from his table and was walking toward her. What the fuck? she thought irritably. She used her left hand to raise her wineglass, hoping that the enormous rock on her finger would dissuade the handsome stranger from approaching her. To her disappointment, he merely smiled and extended his hand when he reached her.

“Mrs. Grey?” he greeted her smoothly. Ana blinked in surprise and reluctantly shook his hand.

“...Yes?”

“Nicholas Limbrick. I work for your husband at GEH.”

“Oh!” Ana exclaimed, recognizing the name. “Of course, I apologize. You’re head of Mergers and Acquisitions.” She felt silly for having misinterpreted the reason for his staring. He hadn’t been undressing her with his eyes; he’d probably been trying to ascertain that she was indeed his boss’s wife.

“Yes,” Limbrick flashed a brilliant smile of approval. “I realize we’ve only met a handful of times and have never really spoken, but I thought it would’ve been rude of me not to say hello after I’d recognized you.” There was still something odd about his expression that put Ana on edge, and she gave a polite sort of laugh.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you as well. I’m here for work and wasn’t expecting to run into anyone from home. What brings you to New York?” Shouldn’t he be working his ass off like the rest of the department heads while GEH is in such a state? To her dismay, Limbrick took her polite question as an invitation to settle into the empty chair beside her.

“I’m visiting my mother, actually. I wouldn’t have asked for more time off, especially now, but she’s not well. Stage four lymphoma,” he explained, his smile shifting to one of saddened acceptance. Ana wanted to kick herself for her snarky attitude and looked back at him with true sympathy.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. My father had cancer a few years ago. Acute myeloid leukemia. He managed to beat it, but his health has never been as robust as it once was. For a while, I didn’t think he’d make a recovery, and I know how difficult it is to watch your parent deteriorate like that.”

“I wouldn’t wish it on anyone,” Limbrick shook his head ruefully. “Were you able to help your father through his recovery?”

“Yes, though not as much as I’d have liked. I was in college at the time, and he refused to let me drop out to move back home. We hired someone to help him at home and drive him back and forth to his appointments when I couldn’t be there, but I always felt guilty that I couldn’t do more for him. I can’t even imagine how hard it would be to live so far away from your mother in this situation.”

Limbrick leaned toward her in interest as she spoke, his intense gaze only leaving her face to glance at her chest. Ana shifted in her chair, feeling her previous discomfort return. She shook off the desire to bring her hand to her chest and shield her cleavage from his view.

Her eyes darted to Sawyer and Mathison, who watched them attentively but kept a respectful distance

“Well, I’m originally from New York. Lived here all my life except for the years I spent at Harvard,” he grinned, his charming smile making a reappearance. His tone was rather boastful, however, and Ana quelled the urge to roll her eyes. “Until I moved to Seattle, of course.”

Limbrick’s eyes dropped to her chest once more, lingering a little as he licked his lips unconsciously. What a creep, Ana grumbled silently. She was suddenly reminded of Christian’s less than flattering nickname for the man and stifled a bit of uncharitable laughter. Limpdick, indeed.

“Well, it was nice to see you,” she lied, flagging down her security detail, “but I’m afraid I need to be going. I’m headed home tomorrow.” Ana made her farewells to her colleagues who seemed to have ignored her side conversation with Limbrick. She stood when Sawyer reached the table, and Limbrick stood with her.

“I’m headed back tomorrow as well,” he said enthusiastically. “What time is your flight? We might even be on the same plane.” He looked far too excited at the prospect, and Ana had rarely felt more grateful for her husband’s private jet.

“We have a private plane,” she hedged, inching away from him. “Take care.”

Ana followed Sawyer to the exit, refusing to look back at Limbrick as they joined up with Mathison and left the restaurant. She was relieved to get away from him, but as the town car they’d rented made its way to the apartment, Ana wondered if she hadn’t overreacted a bit. Limbrick definitely had a case of wandering eyes, but it wasn’t as though she’d never encountered that in man before. She didn’t understand why he had unnerved her so much. Maybe I was just imagining it, she mused. He’d have to be an idiot to actually come on to his boss’s wife, especially when the boss is Christian Grey.

Her attention was caught by the sound of her own name, and she belatedly realized that Sawyer was on the phone in the front seat. She knew that he was most likely reporting the encounter to Taylor, and Ana wondered what Christian would make of it when they told him. On the rare occasions that he’d mentioned Limbrick, she’d gotten the impression that Christian found him to be competent at his job if not also a little full of himself. The latter was something she could now attest to as well. Ana wouldn’t deny that Limbrick was physically attractive, but his personality left much to be desired.

Ana’s phone rang shortly after they’d reached the apartment, and she smiled happily at the sound of her husband’s ringtone.

“Good evening, Mr. Grey.”

“Is it?” he chuckled. “Taylor just told me about your uninvited dinner guest.” Ana rolled her eyes at the absurdity of grown men passing messages like gossiping high school students.

“It was no big deal. I didn’t recognize him at first, but he was polite enough,” she shrugged.

“Sawyer said you looked uncomfortable.”

“Maybe a little. He has an… odd personality.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Christian scoffed. “He makes my arrogance look like low self-esteem. He’s good at his job though.”

“I was surprised you gave him the time off this weekend with everything that’s going on, until he told me about his mother.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I didn’t want to approve it, but the whole cancer thing… I couldn’t help but think of Ray. I did at least verify that his mother is actually ill. Her prognosis isn’t good.”

“Was he one of the people you vetted after the breach?” she asked curiously.

“We vetted everyone after the breach. There was nothing to implicate him. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering. One sec.” Ana put the phone on speaker and set it on the bed so that she could slip out of her dress and into one of the t-shirts she’d stolen from her husband’s dresser.

“It’s late there. Are you going to bed soon?” he asked quietly. She could hear the fatigue in his voice, and she hated being so far away from him.

“Yes. I was just changing, actually. Your t-shirts smell like you,” she smiled, lifting the material to her nose and inhaling appreciatively.

“All of those silk nightgowns and you still prefer my shirts,” Christian chuckled.

“Those are a little too revealing to wear when it’s just the staff here.”

“Damn right.”

“And when I’m with you, I’d just as soon sleep naked.”

Christian groaned and wished for the umpteenth time that he’d gone with her to New York. He hadn’t enjoyed a decent night’s sleep since Wednesday, and his exhaustion was really beginning to wear on him. He had once perfected the art of functioning on almost no sleep, but Ana’s entrance into his life had shaken things up. Now that he’d been spoiled by her soothing presence, he’d become accustomed to sleeping peacefully, and his body was rebelling against her absence.

“Are you still at work?” Ana asked, glancing at the clock and calculating the time difference.

“No, Ros sent me home,” he muttered, sounding a little petulant. “Apparently your absence has turned me into a grouchy pain in the ass.”

“Is that so?” she laughed. “Good thing I’ll be home tomorrow then.”

“Not soon enough, Mrs. Grey. I’ll let you get some sleep. You might want to nap on the plane tomorrow too. You’ll need your energy when you get home.”

“I can’t wait. I love you.”

“I love you too. Goodnight, baby.”

Sunday November 9, 2014

Ana glanced around the master suite of the New York apartment for anything she might have missed in her haste to finish packing. She spotted her phone charger and hurried to unplug it from the wall, coiling it to fit into her purse. There was a knock upon the open bedroom door, and she turned to see Mathison holding a long, rectangular wooden box.

“Yes?” she greeted him, eyeing the box curiously.

“There was a delivery early this morning, Ana. It was addressed to you.”

Ana’s brow furrowed in confusion as she took the box from his hands. It was surprisingly heavy, and she set it down on the dresser to read the message that was attached to the box’s ornate handle. Who even knows I’m here?

Anastasia,

It was a pleasure to talk to you last night. I hope you’ll enjoy this vintage. I think you’ll like it better than the wine you were drinking at dinner. Have a safe flight, and I hope to see you again soon.

Nicholas Limbrick

Ana’s eyes were wide as she opened the box and read the label on the bottle of wine inside. 2011 Château Coutet, Barsac. As wines went, he’d chosen well, but that made her feel even more uncomfortable. Christian had taught her a thing or two about wine, and Ana knew that this particular white wine sold for more than eighty dollars per bottle. It was often reviewed as a romantic wine because of its rose gold hues and sweet taste.

What the fuck is he thinking? Ana thought, wondering if the man could really be so dense. Limbrick had been working at GEH long enough to have the measure of his boss by now. Christian’s protective nature when it came to his wife was no secret at the office. Hell, thanks to the press, it’s no secret anywhere. Ana couldn’t think of a more inappropriate gift, but as she read the note again, she wondered if perhaps she was overreacting again.

There was nothing overtly sexual or provocative in the missive. Maybe he just knows how Christian is about wine and assumes that I’m the same way… Limbrick wouldn’t have been the first person to send Christian a bottle of wine to suck up. Except he didn’t send it to Christian, she recalled.

“Thanks, Kent,” Ana said distractedly. “I’ll be downstairs in a minute, and we can leave for the airport.” Mathison nodded and disappeared down the staircase.

She frowned down at Limbrick’s gift again, examining the wooden box. It looked expensive, possibly handcrafted. Ana tried to ignore the unpleasant sensation in her gut, but the way the man had been staring at her the night before made the whole situation even more uncomfortable. She closed the wine box and shoved it into her suitcase, wondering what Christian would think of his employee’s gift.

Ana was surprised and elated to see her husband waiting outside of the private flight terminal, and she raced toward him, jumping a little to wrap her arms around his neck. Christian caught her easily and squeezed her tightly, devouring her lips hungrily. They didn’t separate for several minutes, parting only when a fellow traveler whistled appreciatively. Ana blushed as he set her back on her feet properly.

“I’m going with you next time; I don’t give a fuck what’s going on at work,” Christian declared. Ana laughed and shook her head.

“We’ll see.”

“I hear you have an admirer, Mrs. Grey,” he said rather flatly as he guided her through the airport toward the parking lot.

“I don’t know that I’d go that far. I think Limbrick was probably just trying to suck up. Your affinity for good wine is common knowledge.”

“Hmm. I suppose that’s possible. Still, it was a rather inappropriate gift to send to another man’s wife.”

“I won’t argue with you there, but his judgment in social situations seems to be a little skewed anyway. I’m sure he didn’t really mean anything by it,” Ana assured him. She wasn’t entirely sure she believed her own words, but she didn’t need to set Territorial Christian loose at Grey House right now.

Christian gave a noncommittal grunt as he opened the backdoor of the SUV for her. He climbed in on the other side and promptly pulled her into his lap. They made out like teenagers for the entire ride back to Escala, and they were far too distracted for the rest of the day to discuss Limbrick and his inappropriate gifts.

Tuesday November 18, 2014

Ana had only been home from New York for a few days when she’d had the misfortune to run into Limbrick again. The encounter had been in the elevator at GEH, and this time Ana had been certain that he’d been flirting with her. His eyes had traced her curves shamelessly, regardless of the fact that they hadn’t been alone in the elevator. Sawyer had fixed him with a Christian-worthy stare-down, but Limbrick hadn’t been dissuaded in the least. She’d thanked him awkwardly for the wine he’d sent, and his answering smile had made her feel even more uncomfortable. She’d been relieved to escape him when the elevator had stopped on her desired floor.

Ana had spent an enjoyable weekend with her husband, who had effortlessly managed to clear her mind of stress. She’d taught him how to make grilled chicken breasts, and he’d let her try her hand at flying Charlie Tango with his assistance. Between the cooking and helicopter lessons, they’d also found time for a few rounds in the playroom, and they’d discussed the menu for Thanksgiving. It would be their first time hosting the family for Thanksgiving lunch, and Ana was very excited at the prospect.

Nicholas Limbrick didn’t cross her mind again until the following Tuesday afternoon when Hannah informed her of a delivery that had been made while she’d been in a staff meeting. Ana could see a large bouquet of flowers sitting on her desk, and her forehead creased in confusion. She could already tell that they weren’t to her husband’s usual taste, and when she plucked the card from amongst the yellow carnations, the handwriting on the envelope confirmed her suspicions.

This guy must have a death wish, she mused incredulously. Ana ripped open the envelope and removed the card, but the message inside baffled her even further. It was no more than three words written in the same cramped, shaky script.

See you soon.

She glanced through the open office blinds and caught Hannah’s attention, raising her hands in a gesture of confusion. Hannah connected the intercom.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, was the name of the sender on this delivery somewhere? There’s nothing on the card. Where did it come from?”

“They didn’t leave an invoice or anything, but did you check the envelope that came with it? I set the vase on top of it.”

Ana looked down and, sure enough, there was a large yellow envelope beneath the vase that she hadn’t noticed before. She thanked Hannah and turned off the intercom before opening the clasp on the envelope. There were no documents or letters inside, but there were pictures. Dozens of them.

She flipped through them in shock. It was like holding a photographic chronicle of the last few weeks of her life. Ana recognized the outfits she’d worn the week before, and one of the photos looked to have been taken less than twenty-four hours ago. By the time she reached the last few photographs, her hands were shaking. These pictures were of Carla, and Ana gasped with the realization that the flowers hadn’t come from Limbrick at all.

“Sawyer!” Ana shouted through the open door, forgetting the intercom entirely. He appeared almost immediately, frowning in concern as she met his gaze with wide eyes. “We’ve got a problem.”

Chapter Nine

Tuesday November 18, 2014

Sawyer’s face was grim and pale as he scanned each photograph from the envelope, many of which pictured him and Mathison as well. There were roughly twenty photos, and all but five of them were of focused on Ana. The rest were of Carla and her security detail.

“I need to take these up to Taylor’s office,” Sawyer told her, shoving the pictures back into the envelope and picking up the vase of flowers.

“I’m coming with you,” Ana replied firmly. He nodded in agreement.

“Mathison is already up there, and you’re sure as hell not staying here alone. There weren’t any pictures from inside the building, but we’re not taking any chances.”

“How far away do you think they were taken from?” Ana asked, keeping pace with his long, quick strides toward the elevator.

“Hard to say. Depending on the camera lens, he could’ve been a hundred feet away. Or he could’ve been much closer,” Sawyer added in a low voice. “I think we’d have noticed him if he were too close, though. Unless he was wearing a very good disguise. The entire security team has his most recent mugshot and knows who they’re watching for, but if he’s gone to any great length to change his appearance, that might hinder us.”

“I’d think it would be cheaper for him to buy a wig and dress differently rather than pay for an expensive camera and a zoom lens. Assuming he doesn’t have a job, or the opportunity to get his hands on some money,” Ana postulated. They stepped off the elevator and into the executive lobby, heading straight for Taylor’s office.

“We’re not ruling anything out at this point. He’s been quiet for over a month, but we haven’t taken his silence for granted. We expected that he would turn up again in some way.”

Sawyer held the door open for Ana, and Taylor looked up from his array of security camera feeds in some surprise. Though he’d seen them coming up the elevator, he’d assumed that Ana was coming to see Christian. Mathison was surprised as well but kept silent.

“What’s wrong?” Taylor asked, instantly alert at the frowns of concern on their faces. Sawyer tossed the envelope onto Taylor’s desk but set the vase down a little more carefully. Taylor emptied the envelope into his hand, and Ana could see the anger on his face at the sight of the first photo.

“What the fuck?!”

“Check them all, T. They’re not all of Ana. Some are of Mrs. Adams and her security.”

“Morton,” Taylor concluded, his tone dark and angry. “How the fuck did neither of you notice this asshole, Sawyer. He couldn’t have been that far away.”

While the three men debated the probability of Morton having expensive stalking equipment at his disposal, Ana pulled out her phone to text her husband. She didn’t know what was on his schedule for that day, but he replied to her text almost immediately. Apparently, he’d had a cancellation and was presently unoccupied.

“You guys got some helmets or padding to put on? We need to tell Christian.” If she hadn’t been so anxious, she’d have laughed out loud at the nearly identical looks of dread on their faces.

Ana was the only person who had walk-in privileges for Christian’s office, and he was already expecting her after her text. She’d given nothing away, but one look at her face told him that something had happened. He was immediately on his feet and crossing the room.

“Ana? What’s going on?”

“I got a delivery a little while ago,” she began, holding her hand out toward Taylor so that he could pass her the envelope. They’d left the flowers in the security office. “You should sit.”

“I think I’ll stand,” Christian replied grimly, extending his own hand for the envelope. Ana sighed ruefully and passed it to him, bracing herself for the fallout. He didn’t disappoint. “What the fuck is this?!?” he bellowed.

“We believe they came from Morton, sir. I’ve got Welch on his way up to discuss the investigation,” Taylor explained.

“How the fuck does Stephen Morton get this close without any of your team noticing?” Christian shouted, holding up one of the apparently close-range photographs.

“Sir, we don’t know if he was truly that close or if the photo was taken with a high zoom lens. Sawyer and Mathison would’ve recognized him if he came within fifty feet of her.”

“We think he’s either done a good job of altering his appearance or else he’s got a pretty impressive camera,” Sawyer added. “I haven’t seen anyone who looks even remotely like Morton, sir.”

“And yet, this fucker was not only able to get pictures like this, but he was able to have them delivered right to her fucking desk! Why wasn’t the delivery intercepted?”

“Christian, I get deliveries at work all the time. That envelope looks almost exactly like the ones we use for manuscripts, and it came with a flower arrangement--”

“That bastard sent you flowers??”

“Yellow carnations,” she admitted quietly. “I’m tempted to Google the meaning, though I don’t think he’d be clever enough for that.”

“Was there a card?” Christian pressed. Ana looked away uncomfortably as Taylor produced the tiny card he’d plucked from amongst the yellow blooms. When she glanced back at her husband, his face was stony and pale. A knock on his office door spared them from a more verbal reaction, and Sawyer opened the door to reveal Welch.

“There’s been contact from Morton, sir?” he asked, looking slightly nervous.

“I think that’s putting it mildly,” Christian growled, thrusting the photographs at him. He kept the small card in his hand and read it again, feeling his stomach roll at the implied threat in Morton’s words. This fucker has no idea who he’s dealing with, he thought, clenching the bit of cardstock in his fist as he looked back at Welch. “You were ordered to track this fucker down weeks ago. How the hell does he set foot in Seattle without my knowing about it?!”

“Sir… I apologize for the oversight. We were able to confirm that Morton violated his parole, and there’s a warrant out for his arrest in Nevada. His parole officer hasn’t heard from him in weeks, and of course we know that he left the state when he visited Mrs. Grey’s mother in Georgia…”

“You’re not telling me anything I didn’t already know, Welch. You’ve had more than a month to find him and keep tabs on him, so how is it that I’m holding a handwritten message from that bastard that ended up on my wife’s desk this morning?”

“May I see the card, sir?” Welch asked.

Christian shoved it into his hand, and Ana stepped toward her husband, wrapping her arms around his waist in the hopes that her touch would calm him. His arms came around her as well, pressing her tightly against his chest. She could feel his heart hammering beneath his skin, and she covered the thudding beat with her hand.

“The handwriting does seem to match that of the letter Mrs. Adams received,” Welch confirmed reluctantly.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Christian persisted. “How the fuck does this happen when you and your team were supposed to be finding and keeping track of him?”

“Well…” Welch shifted on his feet a little. “Sir, with everything going on with the security breaches, the Morton issue was inadvertently deprioritized.”

Wrong answer, Ana winced, cringing away from her husband as he began to shout again. She sighed and went to sit down at the conference table, turning her chair toward the others in the room but staring blindly at the floor, lost in her thoughts. Ana was still confident that Morton wouldn’t be able to actually hurt her with her security team in place, but she had to admit that seeing those pictures had frightened her.

Her past experience with Morton had had the potential to be so much worse; she knew that. Ana was fully aware that had her mother not entered the room at precisely the right moment that night, Morton would have almost certainly raped her. Even now, she had mixed feelings about her mother as she realized that she would have to call her and give her the update. As Ana had assured Carla many times, she’d been there when it had counted. She’d gotten her daughter out of a dangerous situation. And yet, Ana couldn’t deny harboring a bit of resentment over Carla’s refusal to believe her claims about Morton’s behavior. She had done her best to forgive her mother for that negligence in light of the fact that everything had turned out well enough in the end, but Ana couldn’t help but wonder how things might have gone had her mother simply believed her in the first place. Would they be dealing with Morton now, after all these years?

Ana’s unfocused gaze was disrupted by the sudden appearance of her husband, squatting on the floor in front of her and gently tipping her chin upward to meet his eyes. Christian was frowning in concern, and she gave him a weak smile of reassurance.

“I will not let anything happen to you, baby. I swear it. Please don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” she promised, not entirely sure if it was the truth. “I’m worried, but… I feel safe enough. I do need to call my mom though, and I’m not particularly looking forward to that. I’d started to hope that Morton had just decided we weren’t worth the effort.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “We dropped the ball on this. All of us. We’ve been too distracted by everything going on here, and we’ve let things slip.” Ana could hear the self-loathing in his voice and scowled, bring her hand to his cheek.

“Stop that. You have so much on your plate every day; this isn’t your fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault. It’s just shitty timing.” Her eyes flickered to the other men still standing in the room, talking quietly amongst themselves. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m going to call Brett and see if we have enough to open a case against Morton. He’s clearly stalking you and your mother now. That’s probably enough for a restraining order, but considering he also has an outstanding warrant, the police might be able to help us track him down. If that florist has security cameras, the cops might be able to get a hold of the footage so that we can at least see whether or not Morton has changed his appearance.”

“That’s a good idea. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense that he’s disguised somehow. Even if Sawyer and Mathison wouldn’t have recognized him, I should have. Even though it’s been a long time, I don’t think I’ll ever forget his face,” she said, shuddering a little. Christian squeezed her hands and brought them to his lips.

“We’ll find him, Ana. Then we’ll make sure the cops arrest him and send him back to Nevada and back to jail. Clearly, he never should have been released in the first place,” he muttered in disgust.

“Would a restraining order really even be worth the time and effort? It’s obvious he has no respect for the law. What’s the point?” It was Taylor who answered her question, and they both turned to look at him.

“It’s a means of documenting the events, Mrs. Grey. If it comes down to a judge deciding whether or not Morton did wrong, a restraining order is tangible evidence that you felt threatened by his actions. It might not change his behavior, but it will help in the long run.”

“Does my mom have one?”

“Her CPOs advised her to file for one back in September, and she was granted a temporary protection order that will remain in place for one year. We couldn’t secure one for you, because the first threat took place in another state,” he explained. Ana nodded and looked back at Christian.

“I need to call her.”

“Invite her and Bob to Thanksgiving,” he suggested. “Your dad is already coming, and you haven’t seen her since June. It would give us the chance to talk about all of this too.”

“I guess I probably need to tell Dad too. I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to, but if Morton’s in Washington, then he needs to know.”

“I agree. I’m surprised you didn’t tell him back in September.”

“I didn’t want to worry him. His blood pressure has been high at his last few checkups, and he doesn’t need the added stress.”

Christian pursed his lips in disagreement but said nothing. Ray’s battle with leukemia had made Ana extremely protective of him, and sometimes she seemed to forget that Ray was a grown man who didn’t need to be coddled. Christian knew that Ray put up with it for Ana’s sake, knowing that it was simply her way of showing love. She would have done anything in her power to make his life even the slightest bit easier.

“Why don’t we head home? I can take my last conference call from my study, and you can call your parents, alright?”

Ana nodded and accepted his hand as he helped her to her feet. She was irritated that Morton had managed to derail her workday, but she knew that there was no way she’d be able to focus with the scent of those flowers lingering in her office. She shared a quick kiss with her husband and returned to her office with her CPOs to grab a couple of manuscripts and inform Hannah of her departure. They met Christian and Taylor in the lobby and left together for Escala.

“You’re getting more security. At least one more body at all times,” Christian told her as they made their way across town. “It’s not up for discussion.”

“I wasn’t planning to argue,” she said quietly, gazing out the window. He looked at her in surprise.

“Well… good.” He watched her for a few moments and tightened his grip on her hand. She squeezed his back but didn’t look at him. Her eyes continued to scan their surroundings as they drove, and Christian realized that she was looking for Morton. “Hey,” he whispered, waiting until she glanced in his direction. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“I know,” Ana nodded, giving him a tremulous smile. “I just really never thought I’d have to see him again. Especially after you found out that he was in prison. I didn’t realize that him being released was even a possibility considering the fact that he was in jail for killing four people. Whether he did it by driving drunk or with his bare hands, they’re dead all the same. How is it that those four souls, two of them children, are dead because of him… and now he walks free?”

Christian knew that this wasn’t the time to try to explain the intricacies of Nevada’s homicide penalty system, so he kept silent and pulled her against him. He struggled to keep a calm expression, but behind his facade, he was still boiling with rage. He was pissed at Morton for everything he’d ever done to Ana, both in the past and more recently. He was pissed at his staff for failing to do their jobs. He was pissed at the still-unknown person who had breached the GEH mainframe and wreaked so much havoc over the last month, causing this and probably many other issues to be overlooked.

Shortly after they arrived at Escala, Christian disappeared into his study for his last conference call of the day, and Ana went to the bedroom to call her mother. Before she could connect the call, however, her phone rang in her hand, and Ray’s face lit up the screen. She took a deep breath and answered, deliberating over whether it would be better to discuss Morton in person rather than over the phone.

“Hey, Dad,” she answered with false cheer.

“Annie, are you alright? Are you safe?”

“Why? What’s going on?” Ana asked, concerned by the alarm in his voice.

“A letter came in the mail today, and I just now got around to opening it. It’s from Stephen Morton.” Ana felt the air leave her lungs in a rush and couldn’t form the words to respond. Ray kept talking, speaking rapidly in his agitation. “Is Christian there? He should hear this too so he can tell his security team. This letter… I don’t understand all of it, but it’s pretty clear this asshole has it in for you and your mother both.”

“Uh…” Ana faltered for a moment before giving herself a mental shake. She squared her shoulders and pushed her fear to the back of her mind. “Okay, can you send me a picture of it? Is there a postmark on the envelope?”

“Yeah, there’s a postmark from Seattle. Jesus, Annie, what the hell is going on? I thought you’d be shocked.”

“I’m surprised he contacted you, but it’s not the first we’ve heard from him. He sent Mom a nasty letter in September, and--”

“September??” Ray practically shouted. “Why am I just hearing about this now?”

“Dad, please calm down. You know what your doctor said about avoiding stress.”

“I don’t care what the damn doctor says; when someone threatens you, they threaten me too. Why didn’t Christian call me? I’d have thought I could at least count on him to take your safety more seriously.”

“Of course he is, Dad. Please just stay calm, and I’ll explain, okay?” Ana paused, listening to him take a deep breath on the other end. “The letter Morton sent Mom made it sound like he blamed us for him ending up in jail. I guess he figures that his life started to go downhill after he married Mom and that it got worse when we left him. He’s got some sort of vendetta against the both of us. Christian upped my security and assigned two CPOs to Mom too, but no one heard anything else from him until today.”

“When I got this letter,” Ray finished.

“Well… that and something else. I was planning to talk to you about it when you’re here next week.”

“Tell me now, young lady,” he said firmly. Ana grimaced at the familiar reprimand.

“He sent flowers to my office today, along with an envelope of pictures. Some were of Mom, but most were of me. We’re trying to figure out how far away they were taken from, and Christian is assigning another CPO.”

“Good. They don’t check your deliveries before they get to you?”

“I’m sure they will from now on,” she sighed. “There was nothing suspicious about it until I opened the envelope. We’re going to get a restraining order too. Mom already has one, and I guess we should get one for you too.” Ana’s head began to ache, and she felt suddenly exhausted.

“I’m sending a picture of this letter so you can match the handwriting. I’ve gotta say though, Annie, I really don’t understand part of it. You never told me much about your time in Nevada, and from the sounds of this, there’s quite a bit I don’t know.”

“I… I’ll explain, Dad, but not over the phone, alright? We can talk about it when you’re here next week.” Ray was quiet for a few moments, and Ana silently implored him to let it go. “I’m going to see if Mom can come too, and we can all sit down and talk about it together.”

“No more hiding things,” he said firmly. “I know you want to protect me, but it doesn’t even come close to how much I want to protect you. You’ll understand someday when you and Christian have kids of your own. No matter how old they get, you’ll never stop worrying about them. Promise me, Annie. Full disclosure from now on.”

“I promise,” she replied, but Ray could hear the reluctance in her voice.

“I’m not above going straight to Christian if I think you’re holding back.”

“I know.” Her phone buzzed upon receipt of the picture message, but Ana didn’t open it right away.

“Do you want me to bring your Beretta when I come next week? It wouldn’t take much to get your permit renewed.” In spite of the gravity of the situation, Ana smiled at the thought of her husband’s response to her carrying a gun.

“No, that’s alright. I’ll have at least three CPOs whenever I’m in public from now on. I feel safe enough. Do you want Christian to send someone to you though?” Ray scoffed loudly.

“I’m not afraid of Morton. That bastard would be stupid to show his face here. I’d shoot him on sight, and he knows it.”

Ana scanned the letter her father had received. It was more of the same belligerence he’d put in his letter to Carla, with a little extra cryptic gloating about the things he would do to Ana when he got her alone. She read one line in particular several times, certain that it was the reason Ray had brought up her time in Nevada.

“I know Carla sent her to you when they ran away. I hope you at least made the most of the opportunity. It would be a shame if both of her stepfathers missed out on the chance to enjoy her at that age.”

“Thanks for sending the picture. It does look like the same handwriting as the other letter. I’ll make sure Christian’s security team gets it so they can add it to the evidence file when we go to the police.”

“Alright, Annie. Keep me posted, okay? I’ll be there on Wednesday, and we can have a long talk about all of this, but in the meantime, I want either you or Christian to check in once a day. Just a text is fine; I know you’re both busy.”

“We will, Dad. I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“I understand your reasons, Sweetheart. Don’t think I don’t appreciate how much you care, but sometimes you forget that I’m the parent and you’re the child.”

They said their goodbyes and ended the call a short while later, and Ana dialed Carla next, hoping to keep the conversation as short as possible. In spite of the mess that revolved around them both, she wasn’t in the mood to talk to her mother. A small part of her still resented Carla’s past choices and behavior.

Carla was predictably concerned by the developments of the day, and to Ana’s surprise, she agreed to come for Thanksgiving even though Bob would be unable to join her. Ana couldn’t help but think back to her college graduation when Carla had been unable bear the thought of leaving her husband alone with a broken foot for long enough to watch her daughter receive her diploma. Ana had long since become accustomed to being low on her mother’s priority list, but the slight had still hurt her feelings.

They made plans for Carla to come by way of the GEH jet on the following Tuesday and stay through the holiday festivities in one of the guest rooms. Ana wasn’t sure how she felt about having her mother around for several days, but she tried to focus on the positive. It would be the first time since the wedding that the entire family would be together.

Once she was off the phone with Carla, Ana knocked quietly on the study door, still holding her phone. She didn’t know what her face looked like, but she knew that Christian must’ve seen something in her expression. He frowned in concern and beckoned her toward him, patting his thigh invitingly. Ana climbed onto his lap with a grateful sigh and curled her body against him. To her relief, the conference call he was on was audio only, but in that moment, she wouldn’t have really cared who saw her. She waited in silence for Christian to finish the call, allowing the continuous strokes of his hand on her back to soothe her.

“Thanks, Ros. Keep me informed,” he instructed before disconnecting the call and turning his attention to his wife. “Did you talk to your mother about Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah, but I talked to Dad first. He called me.” She handed him her cell phone and buried her face in his neck as he read the letter Ray had received. She could feel his arm tighten around her and his pulse quicken beneath his skin.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled. “He will never get his hands on you, baby. Not while I’m breathing.” Ana nodded in acknowledgment, hoping that it was truly that simple. “So you told Ray what’s been going on?”

“Yes, but… he wants us all to sit down and talk about it next week. He wants to know everything that happened in Nevada before Mom sent me back to live with him.” Christian sighed at the anxiety in her voice.

“I understand why you didn’t tell him back then, knowing you as I do… But why didn’t your mother ever tell him? I’d imagine you were dealing with some degree of emotional trauma after what happened. Why didn’t she warn him so that he could help you get through it?”

“I asked her not to,” Ana admitted. “I told her that I’d talk to Ray about what happened, but I never did. Not in detail, anyway. She never brought it up again, so I didn’t either.”

“Ana,” Christian chastised gently, tightening his hold on her. Even at sixteen, his wife had been determined to fight her battles alone, and he hated the thought of her trying to cope with that trauma on her own. It was a wonder she’d been able to move on from the experience the way she had.

“Are you finished working?” she asked, sitting up to look at him directly. He nodded and gave her a long, lingering kiss that made her limbs feel gelatinous and pushed all thoughts of Stephen Morton to the back of her mind. His lips moved to her neck, and when he spoke, his breath danced across her skin.

“Tell me what you need, Mrs. Grey.”

“Just you, Christian. Just you.”

Chapter Ten

Tuesday November 25, 2014

In the week that followed the delivery of the flowers and photographs, the security team threw themselves back into the investigation of Morton’s whereabouts. New protocols for handling deliveries to either Ana or Christian were established, and several new CPOs were hired so that none were on duty too long. Although handling harassment cases wasn’t under the usual purview of Brett’s department, he stepped in to help Ana with the process of obtaining a protective order. He was also able to offer an official presence when Christian and Taylor went to speak to the owner of the flower shop that had supplied the carnations. Unfortunately, the shop’s security cameras were merely for show and hadn’t been in use for quite some time. None of the employees recognized Morton’s mugshot, which gave weight to the theory that he’d done something to change his appearance.

Ana and Christian coped with the added stress in their usual manner: play time. They’d spent time in the Red Room four days out of the last week, and they’d played in other places on the other three. They’d had sex in every room of the penthouse, apart from the staff quarters, and Ana had begun to wonder how much the ache between her legs was making a noticeable change in her gait. Sawyer had gone so far as to ask whether she’d injured herself somehow. Her answering blush had shut his mouth quickly, much to her relief, and he’d avoided eye contact for the rest of the day.

Carla was due to arrive in Seattle that day, but due to weather delays on both ends, the exact time of her arrival was uncertain. Christian arranged for someone on his staff to meet her at the airport and transport Carla and her CPOs to Escala while he and Ana were at work. The penthouse was silent when Carla stepped out of the elevator at nearly two p.m.; Gail was out shopping for Thursday’s feast, and Ray wasn’t due to arrive until Wednesday.

Carla thanked her CPOs, Young and Garwood, waving them off to the staff quarters when they offered to carry her bags to her room. She climbed the stairs and found the room she’d occupied in June when she’d come for the wedding. Tossing her bags onto the queen sized bed, she briefly considered unpacking them, but it felt a little silly when she only planned to stay a few days. She made a point to hang up the outfit she’d designated for Thanksgiving but left the rest of her belongings in the suitcase. Carla glanced around the room and stopped for a moment to listen to the complete and utter silence of her daughter’s apartment.

Silent as a tomb, she mused. Creepy. She hadn’t had much opportunity to explore the penthouse on her last visit, since everyone had been focused on the wedding festivities, and she couldn’t help but nose around a little now that she had the place to herself. Carla peeked into the other guest rooms, smiling at the furniture occupying the room next to hers. She recognized it as Ray’s handiwork and was unsurprised to see that Ana had held onto it even after no longer having much use for it. Ray’s relationship with Ana had always

been better than her own, and it was hard, at times, not to feel a bit left out. Carla loved her daughter very much, but they’d never been particularly close.

She closed the door and moved further down the hallway toward the staircase. The last room on the left was completely dark when she opened the door, and Carla was momentarily thrown off by the contrast to the other rooms. The afternoon light had filtered through the windows of every other room, but this one seemed to lack windows entirely. It had an odd smell, like leather and citrus, and she couldn’t make out the shapes looming in the darkness. Carla retrieved her cell phone from her pocket and used the screen’s illumination to locate a lightswitch. Instead of the standard chrome switchplate she’d noticed in the other rooms, however, there was a low-lit flat screen panel inviting her to touch the center button. When she did so, a series of lights came on one at a time, keeping the light low but sufficient to see the room.

Carla’s mouth fell open as she took in the red walls and the many objects mounted upon them. It was a bedroom, and yet… not. There was an impressively sized bed, a sofa, and several chests of drawers, but those were the only pieces of furniture she could identify. As she stepped further into the room, she recognized a few of the object lining the blood red walls.

Oh my God...

Ana sat with her assistant going over the schedule for the following week. She planned to take Wednesday and Friday off so that she could entertain her mother, but that meant that she would have a very busy week when she returned to the office.

“Terrance Yates wants to discuss the menu for his launch party, something about offering some gluten-free options. And Elsie Jansen called again about the last round of edits she received. She has some… concerns,” Hannah explained, opting not to quote the author’s rather colorful remarks on the publication process.

“Yes, well I have concerns that she’s made her protagonist’s subconscious a character all its own and that she can’t be bothered to pick up a thesaurus now and then. That crap shouldn’t even be on my desk, but she’s got an in with Jerry, so that’s that.”

Hannah chuckled and moved to the next item on the list. Her words were interrupted by the sound of Ana’s cell phone, however, and Ana frowned in confusion at the name on the screen. She winced apologetically and held up a finger to beg Hannah’s forgiveness as she answered the call.

“Hey, Dad, what’s--”

“Anastasia Rose Steele, if I weren’t a hundred miles away right now, I’d have that husband of yours strung up by his hundred-dollar necktie!” Ray shouted into the phone. Hannah’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, and she made a hasty exit, closing Ana’s office door behind her.

“Dad, what on earth are you talking about?”

“That bastard looked me in the eye and swore he’d never hurt you, Annie. He promised to keep you safe, and I gave him my blessing to propose.”

“Dad,” she practically shouted into the phone, wondering if he could even hear her. “You’re not making sense. Christian would never hurt me; what are you talking about??”

“Your mother called me a minute ago,” he growled. “She’s at your apartment.”

“Okay…? What does that have to do with Christian?”

“Well, I assume that Carla, being Carla, found herself all alone in that art museum of yours and decided to poke around a bit. When she called me, she was absolutely hysterical. I tried to calm her down, but to be honest, I’m pretty pissed off too. What kind of sick shit is Christian into? Has he hurt you? Do you need me to come get you?”

Fuck. My. Life. Ana buried her face into her palm, realizing exactly which room her mother had stumbled into. Of all the ways she’d imagined someday talking to her parents about her lifestyle, this one hadn’t even crossed her mind. She and Christian had been in the playroom so frequently over the past week, that she had actually been too embarrassed to let Gail tidy up. She’d taken the task upon herself, and she’d apparently neglected to lock the door when she’d finished.

“Shit… Dad, it’s not what you think. I know what it looks like but… You’ve got to trust me, alright? You know me, Dad. You know full well that I would never let a man abuse me or take advantage of me.”

“Love makes people do crazy things, Annie.”

“I won’t argue that, but no amount of love would lead me to tolerate of the kind of abuse that’s in your head right now. I swear to you that Christian has never done anything with me or to me that I haven’t consented to. He would never violate my consent in any way.”

“Consent,” Ray muttered. Ana could hear him pacing across his squeaky living room floor. “I’m not completely ignorant of that… sort of thing,” he said uncomfortably. “I was in the Army, and guys talk about sex more than anything else. I understand the basics, but Annie… I swear if I ever find out that he’s crossed the line, there won’t be enough bodyguards in the world to save him from the ass-kicking he deserves.”

“You’d have to get in line behind me, Dad. I wouldn’t stand for it either. I promise you though, it’s not even remotely necessary. I’m very safe and happy in my marriage, and Christian is a good man. We trust and respect each other on every level.”

Ana heard him sigh as she began to shove her things into her bag, signaling Mathison through the open blinds. Her mother was alone and going to pieces in the playroom. She needed to get home. Immediately.

“Alright, Annie. I believe you,” Ray said, sounding a great deal calmer than he’d been at the start of the conversation. “But don’t think we’re not going to talk about this tomorrow. Christian too.”

“Okay,” she replied, her voice ringing with the dejected acceptance of a chastised teenager. She and Mathison headed to the lobby, joining up with Sawyer and Ryan on the way to the parking garage.

“You should get home quickly. I told Carla to wait downstairs for someone to come home. I guess your housekeeper is out running errands or something. Pour her a good strong drink when you get there; she’s gonna need it.”

“I’m on my way now. Thank you for calling me rather than Christian.”

“Oh, I tried him first, but he didn’t answer. We’ll discuss this more tomorrow, alright? I should be there by three or so.”

“Alright, Dad. I love you.”

“I love you too, Annie.”

Ana ended the call and groaned out loud as she sent a quick text to her husband, giving him a heads up about what he would be coming home to in a few hours.

Big trouble at home. My mom was left alone in the penthouse for long enough to go snooping around, and I apparently neglected to lock the playroom door. - A

Fuck. What happened? Where are you? - C

On my way there now. She called Dad in hysterics, and he called me. He wanted to come to Seattle to kick your ass, but I talked him down. Hurry home when you can. Don’t leave me alone with the crazy woman for too long, please. :/ - A

It’ll be okay, baby. You’ve had this talk with my mother and with Kate. You can handle this. I’ll be home as soon as I can. - C

Ana sighed, reading his last text. He was right about one thing; this wasn’t her first time at this particular rodeo. However, talking to her mother about her rather unique sex life was something Ana had hoped to avoid altogether. Explaining the lifestyle to Kate had been easy and even somewhat fulfilling. Ana had enjoyed being able to educate Grace as well, even if that conversation had been a bit more awkward at first. Talking to Carla about BDSM, however, was nothing but awkward. Aside from the safe sex lecture her mother had given her in her teenage years, the topic had never come up in their conversations. Ana had never felt close enough to her mother to share such intimate details, and no one really wants to know that much information about their parent’s sex life.

She spent the brief ride to Escala organizing her thoughts in preparation for a very uncomfortable conversation, and when she entered the penthouse, she was only mildly surprised to find her mother in the kitchen, helping herself to a rather large glass of wine. Ana dumped her purse and shoulder bag on the counter and gazed at Carla apprehensively. Her mother seemed more calm than Ana was expecting, but the hand that held the wine bottle was shaking.

“Hi…” Ana greeted her lamely. Carla met her gaze with an expression that she couldn’t quite decipher. It was a mixture of anger, shock, concern, and… fear? “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d be willing to table this discussion until tomorrow when Dad gets here? I’d rather not have to repeat myself if--”

“Not a chance, young lady. You tell Ray whatever you want tomorrow, but you owe me an explanation, and I want it now!” she demanded, her voice raised but not quite shouting. Ana bristled at her words in spite of her best intentions to remain calm.

“First of all, I don’t owe you anything when it comes to this. You were snooping around my home and found something you didn’t like, but that something has nothing to do with

you. I’m happy to give you an explanation in a respectful, adult conversation, but don’t act like you’ve done nothing wrong here.” Ana watched as Carla’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she looked away and took a sip of her wine.

“You’re right; I’m sorry. It didn’t occur to me that there might be… a room like that in my daughter’s home. I’d never have gone exploring if I’d known.”

“Thank you for apologizing. Can we sit down?” Carla nodded stiffly and took her glass into the living room, waiting for Ana to pour a glass of her own and join her.

“I just want to know what really goes on between you and Christian. I know I didn’t set the best example for you when it came to men, but I thought you’d at least be smart enough not to get yourself into an abusive relationship. Especially after everything we went through with Stephen.”

“Okay, first and foremost, Christian is not abusive in any way. I understand why the things you saw might make you believe otherwise, but you have to trust me on this. Christian and I have always had a very healthy relationship, and now we have a healthy marriage… which includes a healthy sex life.”

“I don’t understand how any of the... things I saw in that room can be considered healthy, Ana,” Carla argued condescendingly. Ana took a steadying breath and forced herself to stay calm.

“Let’s start somewhere simpler,” she suggested. “What do you know about BDSM?” Carla shifted uncomfortably and took another gulp of wine.

“A little, I guess. But I’ve never known anyone who actually enjoyed pain that way… Stephen was always forceful and tended to get very rough, but even he never used the kinds of things I saw hanging in that room.”

Ana couldn’t help but hear the disdain in her mother’s voice whenever she mentioned that room. It was difficult not to be offended by Carla’s obvious disgust for a room and a lifestyle that Ana found such comfort in, particularly when she knew that her mother didn’t truly understand what it was about. It was even more aggravating to hear her compare Stephen to Christian, even if indirectly. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before launching into what she hoped was a simple enough explanation.

“Sadomasochism is just one part of the lifestyle. A lot of it doesn’t involve pain at all. It’s more about power exchange. A submissive chooses to give a Dominant a certain degree of control over her life and her body. The extent of that control varies from couple to couple, but every single part of it hinges upon consent. Nothing happens without the submissive’s consent, and a single word can stop a Dominant’s actions immediately.” Ana paused, uncertain of precisely how much detail she should divulge, and Carla took the opportunity to speak.

“Did Christian pull you into it?”

“No. I was already in the lifestyle before I met him, and so was he.” Carla looked slightly mollified by her answer.

“So it’s just about sex, then? When you’re not in that room, you don’t let him control you?” she asked. Her tone was still disapproving, and Ana pursed her lips, trying not to react defensively.

“It’s about much more than sex, though that’s a big part of it. It has more to do with a deeper connection and a higher level of respect and trust. Those aspects don’t disappear when we leave the playroom.”

“I just don’t understand why you would put up with that sort of thing from any man. Aside from the sex stuff, which I can sort of understand, why would you want a man to control you like that? I thought you were a strong, independent woman, and… now I feel like I don’t know you at all,” Carla admitted, her expression troubled.

“I am a strong, independent person, Mom. I’m as strong as I’ve ever been… Even more so maybe, because I have a strong partner who supports me. I’m still independent too, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy letting someone else make the decisions from time to time.”

“You know, it really doesn’t surprise me to learn this about Christian. He has a very dominant personality, and I suppose it’s served him well. But it seems like you’re letting him define you, and that definitely surprises me.” Ana frowned, her hackles raising once again.

“That’s pretty rich, coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Carla demanded, looking equally offended.

“You’ve flitted from one relationship to another for the past ten years, Mom. Thankfully, you didn’t marry all of them, but if anyone is guilty of needing a man’s validation, it’s you.”

“That’s unfair,” her mother argued. “Especially coming from someone who just admitted to letting a man control her both inside the bedroom and out of it.”

“Willingly submitting to a loving Dominant is not the same as needing a man in order to feel complete. I don’t need a man in order to be a happy, confident, independent woman. I fit that description before I ever met Christian, and I still do. He makes me happier, but if something happened to our relationship or to him, I wouldn’t feel compelled to immediately fill the void with another man, the way you’ve done for most of your adult life.”

“My past relationships aren’t the issue, here, Ana! I raised you to be a feminist, and here you are taking orders from your husband on how to have sex and who knows what else. Does he control what you eat or what you wear? Are you only allowed to voice an opinion so long as it coincides with his?” Carla was almost shouting now, and Ana had had enough.

“Lower your voice,” she hissed. “We have a staff, and they don’t need to hear this.”

“So they don’t know that their boss likes to beat his wife with belts and paddles?” Carla sneered.

“They know as much as they need to know and no more. It’s not anyone’s business what goes on behind closed doors between me and my husband, least of all yours.” She watched her mother cross her arms and look away like a petulant child. “As for feminism, you seem to have forgotten the meaning of the word. Feminism is about women being free to make our own choices. It’s what gives me the choice to submit of my own free will, and I find power in that choice. I find comfort and acceptance; I find peace in submission because

it’s a gift that I choose to give to a man I deem worthy of it. How is that anti-feminist? You sitting here demeaning my choice as a woman, now that’s anti-feminist.”

The two women sat in silence for a few moments, staring in opposite directions. Ana hated that she’d lost her temper with Carla, but her mother’s self-righteous indignation had been out of line. She was being overly critical of something she didn’t understand that had nothing to do with her anyway. Ana felt as though she’d been transported back in time, reliving other arguments between her mother and her teenage self. They could never quite see eye to eye, and she wished that just once Carla would set her preconceived notions aside and listen to a new perspective.

“Look…” Ana tried again, her previously agitated tone reverting to a more reasonable one. “I’m hoping that your judgmental comments are at least coming from a place of concern, so let me reiterate… Christian is not abusive. He doesn’t belittle me or bully me. He doesn’t manipulate me, guilt me, or coerce me into doing anything I don’t want to do. He doesn’t consider my opinion any less valuable than his own. He doesn’t think I’m inferior to him or to men in general, and he would never ever do anything to me that I didn’t want him to do.”

Carla didn’t respond immediately, still stubbornly avoiding eye contact, but her expression had changed. She looked guilty and upset, and while Ana’s intention had never been to upset her mother, she felt it was a marked improvement over the disdain that had lined her features a few minutes earlier. After a moment or two of heavy silence, Carla spoke.

“Was I really such a bad mother to you?”

Ana frowned in surprise at the change of subject. Unless she thinks that my being a sub is an indication of her failure as a mother. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“You were never a bad mother. Why are you asking me that?”

“There’s this whole side of you that I never knew about. It’s not like we never talk, but clearly there’s a lot going on in your life that you don’t want to share with me,” Carla elaborated. Ana was silent for a moment, digesting her mother’s words.

“I guess I always felt more like a spectator in your life rather than a participant,” Ana admitted. “But I know you love me, and I’ve never thought you were a ‘bad mom.’”

“A spectator? What you do mean by that?” Carla frowned.

“You’ve always moved so quickly from one thing to the next,” Ana shrugged. “Hobbies, jobs, relationships… I’ve never really been sure where I fit into all of that. When we talk, it’s mostly about what’s going on in your life, and… sometimes it feels like you’re not all that interested in what’s happening with me.”

“That’s not true,” her mother insisted, her eyes filling with unshed tears. Ana hesitated to go on, but it felt liberating to be honest with Carla about their relationship. It was almost cathartic.

“Maybe, but that’s how it feels. With the exception of the night Stephen tried to hurt me, I’ve never really felt like I was your priority, and that hurts. I’ve gotten used to it over the years, but…” she trailed off, noticing that her mother’s tears were now streaming over her cheeks.

Carla took a moment to compose herself, accepting the tissue Ana offered her. She wanted to be offended at Ana’s words, but she recognized that there was at least a small bit of truth to them.

“You’re right… to an extent,” Carla admitted reluctantly. “Once you went back to live with Ray, my focus shifted away from my responsibilities as your mother, and I focused on myself instead. My own problems, my own desires… I assured myself that you were happier with Ray anyway and that you didn’t need me anymore.”

“I always needed my mom,” Ana contradicted her. “I still do. Maybe not as much as I did back then, but I’ll always need you, Mom.” Her own eyes were stinging with tears, and Carla sobbed into her tissue.

“I’m so sorry for making you feel that way. I wish you’d told me how you felt a long time ago. I always just assumed that you were okay with the state of things between us. I’m sorry, Ana.” She pulled her daughter into a tight hug, her shoulders shaking with repressed sobs. “We’ll do better. I promise. The distance makes it hard sometimes, but I promise to make more of an effort.”

“I will too,” Ana vowed, pulling away to grab a tissue for herself. “Growing apart is partially my fault too, and I want to change that.”

Carla gave her a watery smile and hugged her again. They were still embracing a moment later when the elevator dinged, announcing Christian’s arrival. He entered the living room cautiously, taking in their tear-stained faces.

“So… What are you guys talking about?” he smiled, attempting humor to lift the heavy atmosphere. Ana laughed and wiped her face again, rising from the sofa to kiss him hello. Christian gazed at her adoringly and brushed his thumb over her cheek, admiring the color in it even if he hated the tears that had put it there. Carla watched them with new eyes, understanding much more about their obvious devotion to one another than she had the last time they’d all been in a room together. She cleared her throat to regain their attention.

“I owe you both an apology. I jumped to the wrong conclusion, and I overreacted.”

“It’s understandable,” Christian said reassuringly. “You’re not the first, nor will you be the last.”

“Thank you. I do want to understand this… lifestyle… of yours better. I promise to try not to be judgmental. If Ana says she’s safe and happy, then I believe her. And… I’m sorry for calling Ray.”

Both women cringed at the thought of the impending conversation with Ray, and although Christian wasn’t looking forward to it either, he couldn’t help but smile at how alike they looked at that moment. Being adopted, he didn’t resemble any of his family members, and as he watched them, he felt a little envious. He marveled at how special it must be to look into another person’s face and see traces of oneself staring back.

“We’ll get things sorted out with Ray tomorrow. I’ll have Gail hide the knives, and Taylor can frisk him before he comes up,” Christian laughed.

“You think you’re joking,” Ana murmured, following her husband into the kitchen. “Let’s give Gail the night off tonight. I’ll throw something together for dinner.”

“I’ll help,” Carla volunteered.

They smiled at one another and got to work while Christian watched them and occasionally contributed to their conversation. The change in their interaction was obvious, and he was eager to find out exactly what had been said before he’d arrived. For now, however, the sight of his wife’s easy smile was enough to appease him.

Chapter Eleven

Tuesday November 25, 2014

The conversation over dinner flowed fairly well, all things considered. Although Christian could definitely see a difference in the interactions between Ana and her mother, there was still a bit of awkwardness between the two women, and he felt Carla’s curious gaze upon him more than once. It was strange to think that everyone in their immediate family now knew about their lifestyle. His parents had taken it better than he’d ever dared to hope they would, and now it seemed that Carla might be equally tolerant. Christian still wasn’t sure exactly what had been said before he’d gotten home, but the end result seemed to be a positive one.

“You never did send me a picture of the letter Ray got, Ana,” Carla reminded her. Ana looked up from her plate briefly, clearly uncomfortable with the change of subject.

“It was basically just more of the same, Mom. I didn’t think it was necessary to spread his negativity any further.”

“What does Ray think about the whole thing? I didn’t really give him a chance to bring it up earlier,” she replied, looking a little guilty. Ana sighed and gave a slight shrug.

“He’s pissed off. He had some questions that I didn’t want to answer over the phone, so it looks like we’re in for a very long discussion tomorrow.”

“What questions?”

“He wants to know what really happened in Nevada,” Ana said quietly, pushing her food around her plate.

“Ana… why didn’t you ever tell him? I know you didn’t want to right after it happened, but you two are so close. I thought you just wanted to take a little time to recover.”

“That was my intention… at first. That’s why I asked you not to tell him, because I thought things between you two would be better if he heard the story from me, but the longer I waited, the harder it was to just bring it up. Eventually, I decided that it wouldn’t really do him any good to know the full story. It would’ve just made him feel angry and guilty, and none of it was his fault.”

“No,” Carla murmured. “It was mine.”

“Stop.” Ana’s voice was suddenly firm, and she held her mother’s gaze with a stern expression. “No one is laying blame on anyone. I gave Dad some vague details back then, but I didn’t really talk about the way we left. I’m sure that I’d have been raped that night if you hadn’t been there, so stop berating yourself.” A low growling noise emanated from Christian’s chest, and Ana reached over to squeeze his hand. “It never went that far, and I’m perfectly fine now. It happened, and it’s in the past.”

“But it’s not,” Christian contradicted. “That asshole is threatening you now. It may be in the past for you, but that doesn’t seem to be the case for him.”

“And we’ve taken precautions,” Ana reminded him gently. “We’ve increased security on everyone, and we’ve put new protocols in place.”

“I’d feel a lot better if you’d agree to work from home until this whole mess is resolved.”

“No,” she shook her head adamantly. “I won’t let that man drive me into hiding; I’m not afraid of him anymore. My job is important to me. Besides, he’s only sending hate mail and taking pictures. Half of the tabloid-obsessed population of Seattle is guilty of the same thing.”

“If he can get a good shot with a camera, he can do the same with a gun, Ana.” Her heart ached a little as she heard the fear in his voice, but neither she nor her mother could contain their simultaneous snorts of amusement at his suggestion. “How the hell is that funny??”

“I very much doubt that Morton knows how to shoot,” Ana replied, sipping her wine but still doing little more than playing with her food. She felt her husband nudge her and saw his eyes drop pointedly to her full plate and back up again. Ana sighed and made more of an effort to finish her dinner.

“He didn’t when I knew him,” Carla spoke up. “He’s been in prison for most of the time since then, and I don’t think that’s something they’d teach the inmates.”

“He was never sober long enough to learn a skill like that,” Ana agreed. “There’s no way he’d be able to get a conceal and carry permit now anyway.” Christian scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes.

“Like that ever stopped a maniac from getting his hands on a gun.”

“Well,” she replied with a teasing smile, “if it would make you feel better, I could renew my own permit. My Beretta is back in Montesano, but Dad did offer to bring it with him tomorrow.” Carla chuckled at their exchange and the stunned look on Christian’s face.

“Absolutely not,” he sputtered, appalled at the idea. The thought of his sweet wife holding a gun was terrifying. He decided in that moment, however, that all of their CPOs would be armed from that point forward, at least until Morton was apprehended. Christian hated the idea of having so many guns around, but he was willing to set aside his views temporarily if it meant keeping Ana safe.

“Things between you and your mother seem… okay?” Christian asked as they got ready for bed later that evening. “I take it the conversation went well then?”

“Not at first, but I think I got through to her at least a little. She was very stuck on the image of me as a weakling who has no self-respect and lets you dictate my every move,” Ana replied, shaking her head in disapproval. He laughed out loud at the absurdity of it. She might give up control when it suited them both, but she was also the strongest woman he’d ever known.

“What brought on the tears? It looked pretty tense when I walked in.”

“It was,” she sighed. “We talked about the reasons we’ve grown apart over the years, among other things. She seemed to be genuinely interested in fixing things between us.”

Christian studied her expression and could tell that she was hesitant to believe that she might actually be able to have a healthy relationship with her mother.

“I hope so, baby. As much as I disagree with the way she’s treated you in the past, I think it would be good for you to give her a chance to redeem herself.”

“Me too. We promised each other we’d try to do better. Hence the crying,” Ana shrugged, smiling a little.

“I’m glad. What was up with you at dinner though? I don’t remember the last time I had to push you to eat.”

“I’m just distracted, I guess. I meant what I said; I’m not afraid of Morton. I’m just really not looking forward to talking to my dad about him tomorrow. Not to mention everything that came up today.”

“Do you want me to be there?”

“God, no! You’ll go to work, and I’ll text you when it’s safe to come home,” she said with mock severity. Christian chuckled and pulled her body against his, pulling the sheet up over them both.

“Think the family jewels are in danger, Mrs. Grey?” he teased. He had to admit, he was slightly nervous about Ray’s reaction to everything, but worrying about it wouldn’t change matters. Ana smirked at his joke and kissed him softly.

“No, but if I’m wrong, I think we should make good use of them tonight, Mr. Grey.”

“Is that so?”

Christian trailed a line of kisses from her lips to the center of her chest, his hands exploring the smooth skin of her back and upper thighs. Ana gasped as he simultaneous squeezed a handful of her ass and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Even after more than a year together, it took almost nothing on his part to bring her to a state of arousal. On days when they were together more than not, she was practically a walking pair of damp panties. When he permitted her to wear them at all, that is.

“Can you be quiet, princess? Your mother may be giving us the benefit of the doubt, but let’s not test her resolve with the sounds of your orgasms.”

“I can… try,” she giggled. Unless she was fully in subspace, Ana found it difficult to control her volume when being intimate. He chuckled along with her and quirked an eyebrow at her teasingly.

“Perhaps I’ll have to help you then.”

“Mmm,” Ana moaned as his fingers hooked around the waistband of her panties. “Yes, Sir.”

She smiled lazily up at him in the dim light of his bedside lamp, admiring the muscled contours of his bare chest and arms. Her husband worked hard to maintain his body, and it showed. Ana had a definite fetish for his arms in particular. She loved to see him in a well-tailored suit, but the sight of her hot husband in a snug black t-shirt was enough to have her panting with lust. Christian tugged her panties down her legs and wadded them in his hand, crawling upward over her body until their eyes were level.

“You’ve done very well today, little girl,” he whispered as he stroked her hair. “I know today was stressful, but you handled it so well. Probably better than I would have. I’m so proud of you, Anastasia. I think you deserve a reward.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she grinned, basking in his praise.

“You’re welcome. First, I think we need to make sure your vocal tendencies don’t get out of line. Your screams of pleasure aren’t meant for your mother’s ears.” With that, he kissed her long and hard, then pushed her panties into her mouth. Ana was already writhing a little against the sheets, and he caught her wrists in a firm grip above her head. “Shall I restrain you, princess? Shall I tie you up and worship your body until you beg for mercy?”

She whimpered and nodded, her eyes pleading. Christian smiled in approval and kissed her forehead.

“Don’t move,” he instructed before rising from the bed.

He disappeared into their large closet and returned a few moments later with a handful of neckties and something small and purple that Ana couldn’t quite make out. She hadn’t moved a muscle, and his pleased expression made her skin tingle. Sometimes she found it so very easy to make her husband happy. The simplest of gestures could make his face light up, and although her moments of unfettered submission were constantly earning his approval, Christian was still every bit as enamored of her quick wit and sharp tongue.

He scooted her body upward on the bed and moved the pillows out of their way, using his ties to bind each of her wrists to the steel rings he’d had installed in hidden places on their headboard. They’d never truly limited their playtime to the Red Room, and throughout their time together, they’d made covert additions to the decor that were creative enough to hide in plain sight. Similar hidden tie-down rings had been added to a footstool in the living room, a tufted bench in the library, and the desk in Christian’s study. The padded chaise in the master bedroom had been replaced with a sleek tantra chair, and he’d bound her to the stationary equipment in the gym on more than one occasion.

Ana gazed up at him as he finished securing her hands, and he encouraged her to keep her legs flat against the mattress. His eyes moved hungrily over her body, taking in every inch of satiny skin. Christian stood briefly to remove his pajama pants, but his eyes never left his wife. He didn’t know how it was possible, but Ana seemed to have grown even more beautiful since he’d met her. More than a year of frequent and sometimes acrobatic sex had given her muscle definition she hadn’t possessed a year ago. The hours she’d devoted to martial arts training over the past few months had only emphasized it. Her breasts were slightly larger, her waist a little smaller, and her shapely limbs and derrière were toned to perfection.

“So beautiful, little girl. I could spend hours just staring at you. Studying you until I have every perfect inch of you memorized.” Ana whimpered, her eyes pleading for his touch. Christian gave her a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, princess. I’m a weak man, and the temptation to touch is just… too much,” he whispered, trailing a single fingertip in a straight line from her lips to her core.

Ana trembled when he touched her clit, feeling as though a shock of electricity had touched the little bundle of nerves rather than merely her husband’s finger. As he stroked

her wetness with increasing pressure, it became very difficult to keep her legs still, and her knees began to rise from the bed of their own accord.

“Ah, ah, Anastasia,” he murmured, removing his finger to her consternation. “You’ll be able to move those legs soon, but not until I give you permission. Understood?”

Ana nodded and gave a little noise of assent that was muffled by the panties he’d pushed into her mouth. Christian’s hands began their torturously slow exploration once more, but this time he focused on her arms, then her breasts. Her nipples were hard as diamonds, and goosebumps covered the majority of her skin. He wrapped his lips around one of the rosy peaks, sucking hard and flicking his tongue against it within his mouth. The sweet torment was unbearable, and just when Ana feared she might come, he moved away to focus on another part of her body.

It was maddening, and yet she loved it. She knew that her eventual climax would be ten times better after his edging, and she moaned deliciously when he fastened his mouth to her core a few moments later. Christian groaned loudly into her folds, savoring the sweet, familiar taste of her. When he felt her thighs began to shake on either side of his head, he sat up, stifling a chuckle at low whine of disappointment from her chest.

He retrieved the other item he’d found in the closet and held it up for her to see. Ana’s breathing accelerated immediately as she recognized the small object. It was the U-shaped vibrator he’d instructed her to wear at her first Coping Together gala. They’d played with ben-wa balls this year, but it hadn’t been quite as satisfying as the remote control toy, which they’d only used a handful of times since that first gala. Christian generally reserved such games for public events, as it gave them both a thrill to engage in power exchange right under the unsuspecting noses of Seattle’s elite. She was surprised and excited to see it again.

“I trust you remember this,” he grinned. Ana nodded and squirmed against the bed. “We’re going to use it a little differently tonight. Do you trust me?” She nodded again, her blue eyes shining with affection. Christian leaned down to kiss her lips softly. “Good girl.”

As usual, those two words seemed to melt through any defenses Ana had left, and she moaned loudly through her makeshift gag. Christian delivered a light slap to her outer thigh to remind her to stay quiet, and she renewed her efforts to obey. She felt his fingers at her core once again, testing her wetness before he slid the U-shaped vibrator into place. One end rested against her clit while the other was pressed against her g-spot, and even before he turned it on, Ana knew that her hold on her orgasm was tenuous at best.

Christian seemed to realize it as well, and to her surprise, he didn’t immediately activate the vibration. Instead, he took his rigid length in his hand and guided it slowly into her, stretching her gently to make room for his girth in addition to the toy. Ana gasped at the feeling of immense fullness, and when he was completely inside of her, their gazes met and held. He gasped in pleasure at the extremely tight fit, trying like hell to hold himself steady until she was ready for more.

“Are you alright?” he asked, glancing only briefly at her fingers for signs that she might need to snap them call a timeout. Ana was breathing heavily, coaxing her body to adjust to the unexpected intrusion. Once she was sure she could handle at least a little movement, she nodded and tried to smile, at least with her eyes.

Christian leaned slightly to retrieve the remote, initiating the lowest vibration setting as he began to move within her. It was almost too much for both of them. Within five seconds, he could feel her walls fluttering, and this time he didn’t retreat or command her to hold back.

“Come when you can, as much as you can, Anastasia.”

His movements increased steadily in depth and tempo, and when he kicked the vibration up another notch, Ana exploded around him, shouting through the gag and pulling against the silk ties that kept her in place. The force of his thrusts and the stimulation from the toy extended her orgasm considerably. It seemed to stretch endlessly until her brain was scrambled from the overload of pleasure. The sensation of being inside of her was so intense that he felt as though the air had been stolen from his lungs. He could neither breathe nor speak as he slammed into her repeatedly, pushing her body to its limits. Her climax lasted easily five times as long as normal, and she didn’t stop coming until Christian erupted within her.

He fumbled with the remote to turn the toy off and fell against her, desperate for oxygen. When he opened his eyes to look at her, black spots danced in his vision where her face should have been. He blinked them away, removed the makeshift gag, and leaned down to kiss her. Ana returned his affection dazedly, feeling utterly drained and spent. She felt him release her wrists, but she was too exhausted to move her arms out of position or even open her eyes. Christian chuckled in amusement and forced himself to get up and see to her needs rather than collapse in a heap as his body would have preferred.

As he guided a warm washcloth over her sweat-dampened skin and between her legs, he couldn’t resist placing another series of kisses on all of his favorite parts of her body. There were many, and by the time he finished, Ana was fast asleep. Christian smiled lovingly and turned off the light, gathering her in his arms and holding her against his scarred chest.

No matter how many times or ways they made love, he would never have his fill of her.

Chapter Twelve

Wednesday November 26, 2014

Ana, Carla, and Gail spent a good part of the day in the kitchen on Wednesday, preparing a few dishes that would keep well in the refrigerator for the Thanksgiving meal. Their anticipated guest list for lunch had grown to include not only Carla but Brett and Celia as well, in addition to Ray and the rest of the Greys. Ana planned to cook for the staff as well, though they wouldn’t all fit in the dining room of the penthouse. Ryan and Mathison were setting up an extra table and chairs, and Gail took a break from cooking to handle the decorations.

Ana was truly excited about hosting their first Thanksgiving as a married couple. Grace and Carrick had hosted both holidays the previous year, and they planned to cover Christmas dinner again this year. Having a holiday party in her own home was another milestone of adulthood that Ana hadn’t realized she’d been anticipating. It was a strange and wonderful feeling to be cooking a holiday meal alongside her mother, and she felt herself daring to hope that they really could turn things around even after so many years of relative detachment.

Ray had been due around three p.m., but the holiday traffic had delayed him by more than an hour. Ana greeted him with a smile and a huge hug when he stepped out of the elevator. Ray hugged her back and nodded politely over her shoulder at Carla.

“Something smells good,” Ray commented appreciatively. “I’ll admit I’ve been looking forward to Gail’s cooking.”

“Actually, that’s my dessert you’re smelling,” Ana grinned. “But it’s for tomorrow. Gail will be starting dinner pretty soon though since I assume you… want to talk?” she asked nervously, her smile dropping a little.

“That I do. I see you managed to calm your mother down.”

“She did,” Carla said with a reluctant smile. “I’ll leave you two be. I’ve got to call and check in with Bob anyway. Nice to see you again, Ray.”

Ray murmured something in reciprocation, and Carla disappeared up the stairs to her room. Ana directed Sawyer as to which room her father would be sleeping in so that Ray’s duffle bag could be relocated, and neither of them heeded Ray’s insistence that he was capable of carrying his own bag upstairs. Ana grabbed a couple bottles of water from the refrigerator and led Ray into the library, which she had long since appropriated for her own work-from-home purposes. They sat opposite one another in a pair of plush armchairs, and Ana took a swig of her water, trying to shake the feeling that she was about to be interrogated.

“Look, I know you said over the phone that you were happy and safe, and I want to believe you. But naturally, I have some concerns, Annie.”

“I know,” she nodded. “You can ask anything, and I promise to tell you the truth. I’d rather you choose what information you want to know, though, if that’s alright with you.” Talking to one’s father about her sex life was not something most women enjoyed, but most fathers enjoyed hearing about it even less. She didn’t want to inadvertently divulge more information than he could handle.

“You promise me you’re not being abused in any way?” Ray asked, his expression tight and guarded.

“I’ll swear on whatever you want, Dad. Christian and I might have a slightly atypical relationship, but it’s still a very healthy and happy one.”

“Carla made it sound like she’d stumbled into some kind of torture chamber. Paddles, canes, belts… I know enough about BDSM that I was able to figure out what the hell she was talking about, but I would never imagined that my strong, smart daughter would be into something like that,” he said sternly. Ana fought the urge to roll her eyes at once again being confronted with society’s misconceptions about her lifestyle, but she felt a great deal calmer with Ray than she had been with her mother.

“What do you know about it? And where did you learn it?” Ana asked, letting him guide the conversation.

“Like I said yesterday, Annie, you don’t stay in the military as long as I did and not hear just about everything there is to know about sex. Seventy-five percent of the conversations amongst the soldiers had to do with sex in at least some form,” he said blandly. “Which of you is the Dominant?” Ana’s brows lifted in surprise at his direct question.

“Christian.” She watched him shake his head and gaze blindly across the room for a moment.

“I just don’t understand how you could’ve fallen into this, Annie. It doesn’t seem like you at all.”

“I’m the same person I’ve always been, Dad. I just know myself a lot better now. I got into the lifestyle before I even met Christian, and the same goes for him. No one corrupted anyone. Like I told Mom yesterday, Christian doesn’t do anything without my complete consent, and he’d never do anything that would put me in any real danger.”

Ana paused, watching her father’s expression carefully. Ray seemed to be torn between the desire to know the full truth and the urge to finish the conversation as quickly as possible.

“Look,” she sighed. “This isn’t a conversation I ever wanted to have with either of my parents, but it’s very important that you both understand the reality of all this rather than make the wrong assumptions. Christian loves me. He respects me, takes care of me, and keeps me safe. He’d never do anything I didn’t want him to do, and I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life. He makes me happy, Dad.”

Ray looked at her for a long moment before standing up and pulling Ana to her feet as well. He wrapped her in a hug that actually made it a bit difficult to breathe, but she merely smiled against his shoulder and squeezed him back.

“I’ll try to let it go,” Ray promised. But if Christian thinks he’s getting out of a man-to-man talk, he’s got another thing coming, he thought. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“Thank you for not judging,” Ana replied. “Mom didn’t do so well with that. Christian’s parents didn’t have the easiest time with it either at first.”

“Grace and Carrick know?”

“Everyone does now,” she nodded, feeling momentarily amazed by the realization. “His family found out last year when Mark was causing trouble for us. Kate knows too, and I don’t think we can really keep much from the staff,” Ana chuckled awkwardly.

Ray winced sympathetically as he imagined the sorts of things their staff had probably seen and heard, even if only by accident.

Dinner that evening was a fairly simple affair of pulled pork and vegetables. Gail had left the pork in one of the crock pots throughout the day, and it had been blending with the other tantalizing scents wafting through the penthouse as the Thanksgiving preparations continued. Christian had arrived home just in time to eat, and he was relieved that Ray greeted him with a friendly handshake rather a solid right hook.

After dinner, the four of them moved to the living room, Ray and Carla settling into separate chairs and Ana and Christian curling up together on the long sofa. No one had wanted to bring up either of the elephants in the room over dinner, and there was still much to discuss.

“So Christian, Annie tells me you’ve had quite a mess at work over the last month or so. I’ve heard a little about it on the news too, of course. Is everything under control now?”

“The issue of the system breach was resolved fairly quickly, but it’s had far-reaching effects. The employees who had their information compromised are being assisted in repairing the damage, but some of that will take months to resolve. Then there’s the damage to GEH’s reputation, which has been a headache for my PR department.”

“How do you improve on that?” Carla asked curiously.

“My head of PR has lined up quite a few engagements for Ana and I over the next month or so. Charity events, mostly. Maybe a couple of interviews,” Christian explained.

Ana wanted to groan at the thought having to suffer through a long string of formal events, but the memory of their playtime the night before gave her hope that her husband could be counted upon to make sure she wasn’t bored out of her mind. Insanely turned on, perhaps, but never bored. She glanced at Christian and noticed a hint of a smirk on his face as he gazed back at her, blushing a little at the thought of what her own face must look like. Thankfully, neither of her parents seemed to be paying attention, and her father had taken advantage of the lull in the conversation to remove a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

“I know this business with Morton is unpleasant, but I think it would be best if we were all on the same page,” Ray announced, rereading the letter he’d received with a disgusted expression.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Christian replied, extending his hand toward Ray. “May I?”

Ray nodded and handed over the letter, and although Ana was sitting right next to her husband as he read, she averted her eyes, having no desire to read Morton’s hateful words a second time. Christian’s arm tightened around her, and he pressed his lips into her hair before passing the letter to Carla. Ana’s mother had yet to see this letter, and her face grew pale as she read.

“First of all, I want to know what the hell really happened in Nevada. It’s pretty clear I didn’t get the whole story from either of you,” Ray grumbled, looking between Ana and Carla.

“That’s my fault,” Ana admitted. “I’m sorry, Dad. I just… couldn’t talk about it back then.”

“And what about now?”

Ana sighed and searched her mind for a place to begin. She knew her father would be angry and rightfully so, but the worst of it was that he would be hurt by the secrets she’d kept from him for nearly ten years. She’d kept those details to herself to spare him from any misplaced guilt, but in doing so, she’d taken that guilt upon herself in a way. His feelings would be hurt, and the fault would be hers.

“How much do you remember about it?” Carla asked, sparing Ana the task of speaking first. Ray frowned and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“I knew that Annie was unhappy in Nevada, but I didn’t have any idea that things were that bad until you called me saying that she needed to come back home. She had a bruise on her face when I picked her up from the bus station. When I asked where it had come from, she told me that Morton hit her and that you had come in at the right moment and stopped him from doing it again. I hadn’t thought there was more to the story until I found that piece of filth in my mailbox,” Ray said, glaring at the letter Carla had placed on the coffee table.

“There was a bit more to it than that,” Ana spoke up. She drew a deep breath and plunged ahead. “He always made me feel uncomfortable. When Mom wasn’t around, he’d always find ways to corner me, invade my space… touch me and act like it had been an accident. He’d start arguments for no reason, call me names, push me around… I caught him watching me undress more than once, and he disabled the locks on the doors to the bathroom and my bedroom.”

“That sick son of a bitch,” Ray cursed. “Why didn’t you tell your mother? Or me, for that matter? We talked on the phone all the time, Annie.” At this, Carla looked horribly guilty, and tears welled in her eyes.

“She did tell me,” Carla whispered. “I just didn’t believe her.”

Ray sat in stunned silence for a moment, and Ana could feel a low growl resonating in her husband’s chest. He had heard the story early on in their relationship, but for Ana’s sake he had kept his feelings about Carla’s neglect mostly to himself. Ana had to admit that hearing her mother say the words out loud made the whole thing a little more real, made her feel that her residual anger was perhaps a little more justified. She squeezed her husband’s hand and watched the emotions play across her father’s face. Shock, disgust, fury…

“What the hell do you mean you didn’t believe her?!” he nearly shouted, his gaze locked on his ex-wife.

“I never saw the things she was complaining about,” she explained. “I did confront him about it, but he always had a logical explanation and made it sound like Ana must have misunderstood his words or actions. I even talked to a couple friends of mine about it, and they shrugged it off as typical teenage behavior. I thought that she was just unhappy about having to move away from you, and teenagers have a tendency to be melodramatic about things or even fabricate--”

“She was never that kind of teenager, Carla! Jesus Christ, if ever there was a child who was born with the mind of an adult, it’s Annie! She never lied or manipulated us to get her way; she never overreacted when something went wrong. Hell, she was more responsible than you by the time she was ten years old!

Ana’s mouth hung open at her father’s outburst, but she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt him. Some part of her felt a perverse sense of satisfaction to hear him chastise her mother for her neglect. Someone needed to, even if it came ten years too late. It wasn’t until she noticed that his hands were shaking that she remembered his blood pressure issues.

“Dad, please calm down. I know you’re angry, but it was a long time ago. She made up for it--”

“Don’t you defend her, Annie. If she’d just listened to her own child in the first place, we might not be in this mess right now.”

“Dad--”

“No,” Carla interrupted. “He’s right, Ana. I made a mistake, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I was so stupid. He was hurting me, so I don’t know why on earth I believed him when he said he wasn’t hurting you. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Abuse messes with your head, Mom. You get so wrapped up in trying to hide it from the world that eventually you end up hiding it from yourself too,” Ana said quietly. Christian tightened the arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. He knew the truth of her words better than many. He’d hidden the truth of Elena’s abuse for years, not only from his family but from himself as well. The four of them sat quietly for a moment before Ray spoke again, his voice a good deal calmer than before.

“What happened that night? The night Carla called and sent you home?” he asked his daughter.

“Mom was working late, and I’d just gotten out of the shower. I hadn’t finished getting dressed yet when he came into my room, trying to start an argument. I don’t even remember what he was shouting about. He was abusive to both of us, but he’d never actually hit me in the face until that night. It stunned me for long enough that he was able to push me backwards onto the bed and… climb on top of me. I could hear him trying to unbuckle his belt when Mom came in.”

Carla shuddered as she remembered the scene. Ana’s hair had still been wet from her shower, and she’d worn nothing but an oversized nightshirt and a pair of underwear. She’d been shouting at Morton to get off of her, and although she’d been struggling, it hadn’t made any difference with a man so much bigger and stronger.

“I picked up something heavy from the floor,” Carla said, gazing blindly at the city lights beyond the window. “For the life of me, I can’t remember what it was. I swung it hard at the back of his head, though, and it was enough to knock him out. Long enough to get Ana out of the house. I was sick with guilt that I hadn’t believed her, to the point that I actually had to pull over and throw up on the side of the road after we left. Pretty quickly, I came to the conclusion that she was better off with her father, and I didn’t waste any time putting her on a bus to Washington.” Carla paused and looked directly at her daughter.

“Knowing that you… flourished the way you did over the next few years was my only consolation to having failed you as a mother, but in a way, it also made me feel worse. I eventually came to believe that you were better off without me. It wasn’t until our talk yesterday that I realized that that’s not true. You need both of your parents, and by distancing myself, I failed you yet again. I meant what I said, Ana; I’m determined to do better from now on.”

“Me too, Mom. I guess I didn’t realize how hard it was for you to let me go back to Dad. Thank you for doing what was best for me even though it hurt you,” Ana said genuinely. Her mother gave her a nod and a tearful smile.

Ray had remained silent throughout Carla’s explanation, but the pent up energy and adrenaline in his system had brought him to his feet. He paced across the living room rug, not looking at anyone. He was grateful that Carla had been able to intervene at the critical moment, but he was still outraged that the situation had ever gotten to that point in the first place. Their daughter should never have had to endure something like that. Ray stopped pacing and looked at Christian.

“Did you know?”

“Ana told me the story not long after we started dating,” Christian replied, his tone slightly apologetic. He could see the hurt in Ray’s eyes, and so could Ana.

“I’m sorry I kept it from you, Dad. At first, I didn’t feel like I could talk about it, and once I started to move on emotionally, I didn’t want to talk about it. I just wanted to move on and forget it ever happened. I knew you’d feel guilty for not having been there, no matter what reassurances I gave you. It wasn’t your fault, but you still would’ve blamed yourself.”

Ray sighed deeply and sank back into his chair, rubbing his temples in a circular motion.

“Well, I’m glad you at least talked to someone about it, even if it took years. I’m also glad I was able to provide a safe place for you, even if I didn’t realize the extent of what that meant at the time,” he said ruefully. “What about now? Why is that bastard causing problems after all this time?”

“Well,” Christian replied, “After Ana first told me about him, I ordered a background check which revealed that Morton was sent to jail for multiple counts of vehicular manslaughter. At the time, I assumed that meant that he would stay in prison where he belongs and we wouldn’t have to worry about him. After he left the first letter for Carla in her mailbox, I got an updated history, and my team has been trying to track down his whereabouts.

“He got a little time for driving under the influence, plus six months of jail time for each person he killed in the accident. I believe there was a thousand dollar fine for each as well. He spent a lot more than just a few years in prison though, because his behavior following

his arrest led to the addition of several felony assault charges to his record. He was only released a few months ago. We know that he violated his parole by leaving Nevada in September, and by the looks of things, he’s been doing quite a lot of traveling,” Christian said grimly.

“The letter I got was about as ugly as the one you received,” Carla told Ray, “but it was hand-delivered. He gloated about how close he could get to me without my realizing it.”

“That was near the end of September, and we didn’t hear anything from him until the other day,” Ana explained. “He’s been taking pictures of both me and mom for at least a few weeks, I’d say. He’s obviously done enough digging to learn where I work and who I’m married to.”

“Yes,” Christian added, “and the fact that we live at Escala is no secret either, so security has been tightened here as well as at GEH. Ana now has three full-time CPOs, and all of them will be armed starting Monday morning.”

“I offered to bring you your gun, Annie. The offer stands; you just say the word,” Ray said with a grim expression. Ana chuckled as she felt Christian’s grip on her shoulder tighten a little.

“I appreciate that, Dad, but like I said the other day, Christian doesn’t care for guns.”

“Didn’t you just say the security staff is going to be packing come Monday?” Ray asked in confusion. “What’s the problem with adding one more?” Christian pursed his lips, not wanting to offend his father-in-law.

“I don’t want to get into a debate about it, but let’s just say that growing up with a mother who frequently worked as a doctor in the ER exposed me to a lot of stories about the things that can happen when a gun falls into the wrong hands. The only reason I’m arming our CPOs is because there is a viable, active threat. Otherwise, I don’t allow them to carry weapons of any kind.”

Ray shrugged empathetically when Christian brought up his mother, but his opinion on the matter didn’t change.

“Well, I assure you, my Annie knows what she’s doing. She’s been shooting since she was twelve years old. Might be a little rusty these days, maybe, but it’s nothing a bit of practice couldn’t fix.” Ana winced as her husband’s hand tightened again.

“I really don’t think it’s necessary, Dad,” she said confidently. “I’m very well-protected, and I’m not afraid of Morton.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ray nodded. “I’m proud of you for that, and I agree that you’re well-protected, but if you do ever change your mind, you just let me know. Hell, I’ll even come to the range with you and get in some practice too.”

Ana glanced up at Christian, whose expression was that of someone chewing glass, but he remained silent. He was determined not to come across as a domineering asshole in light of his in-laws’ newly acquired knowledge of their lifestyle.

The four of them chatted a little while longer before eventually retiring for the night. As Christian lay in bed with his wife in his arms, he replayed parts of the evening in his mind, casually stroking the smooth skin of her back.

“I thought for sure your dad was going to haul me into some locked room and interrogate me when I got home earlier.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will. I think he’s planning on doing that tomorrow while we women are cooking,” Ana smirked. Christian’s hand stopped moving, and she chuckled as she felt his muscles stiffen. “Don’t worry, I think you’ll survive it. He took it a lot better than Mom did. You can handle it.”

“Famous last words,” Christian muttered, resuming the caressing of her back. She giggled against his chest and pressed her lips to a few of his scars.

“At least you can be sure he probably won’t ask to see the playroom. Lots of torture devices in there.”

“Don’t I know it,” Christian grinned. He switched off the light next to the bed and pulled her closer. “Get some sleep, Mrs. Grey. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

Chapter Thirteen

Thursday November 27, 2014 Thanksgiving Day

Escala was abuzz with activity on Thanksgiving morning, even before the majority of the guests arrived. Grace had shown up early to help with the cooking, and her presence in addition to that of Ana, Gail, and Carla made the spacious kitchen feel cramped. They used the stoves in both the main penthouse and the staff quarters to heat the casserole dishes they’d prepared the previous day, and there were fruit and pasta salads cooling in the refrigerator. The rest of the Greys were due to arrive a little before lunch, along with Brett and Celia who were bringing a dessert.

To everyone’s delight, Taylor had been able to talk his ex into granting him little holiday time with his daughter, Sophie. He and Gail would be having lunch with Sophie in the staff quarters. Most of the security team had the day off to spend with their families, but one or two planned to join them for lunch as well. Ana was adamant that the staff should enjoy a Thanksgiving spread every bit as grand as the one the family would have, even if there wasn’t enough room for everyone to simply dine together. As such, it had taken the majority of Wednesday and all morning on Thursday to prepare the food.

“Not going to help in the kitchen?” Ray asked his son-in-law as the women bustled about.

“I think they’ve got it handled,” Christian grinned. “Besides, I guarantee you if I even attempted to step over the threshold, I’d have at least three women shouting at me to get out.”

“The ones who’ve had the misfortune to taste your cooking?”

“Exactly.”

Ray chuckled and continued to watch the activity going on around them. He had every intention of pulling Christian aside for a short discussion and a well-phrased threat or two, but he wanted to observe things for a little while longer. He’d done a little internet research after they’d all retired the night before, and now he felt as though he was seeing his daughter and her husband with new eyes.

As the morning wore on, he noted Christian’s chivalry toward his wife and women in general. It wasn’t the first time Ray had noticed it, but his manners took on a new meaning now. Christian was always very attentive with Ana, and it was clear that he took his role as a caretaker very seriously. He seemed to be constantly watching her and checking to make sure she had whatever she might need or desire.

Even when the rest of the guests arrived a few hours later, Christian and Ana stayed very near to one another, almost always touching in some way. Their body language painted a very different picture now that Ray knew what to look for. It was subtle but undeniable. Christian was her protector, and Ana seemed to defer to him without conscious thought. Their happiness together was blatantly obvious, and that soothed Ray’s concerns more

than anything else. The love between them lit up the room, bathing everyone in its warmth and glow.

It was also clear to Ray that his daughter and son-in-law were not the only couple in the room who shared their particular type of relationship. He’d been introduced to Brett and Celia several times before, but he hadn’t picked up on the subtle hints of power exchange that he could detect now. Ray didn’t want to make assumptions, but he suspected that they were in the lifestyle as well.

As everyone did their best to empty their heavily-laden plates, the conversation flowed with a variety of topics and frequent laughter. Elliot and Mia quarreled like children, as usual, while Grace admonished their manners and pled with her husband for intervention. Ray, Carrick, and Christian discussed the prospect of another fishing trip. Brett and Elliot bemoaned the disappointing record of the Seahawks that season, while Mia pestered Celia about setting up their next trip to the gym. Mia had occasionally joined Celia and Ana for a few training exercises, but more often than not, her limited free time was devoted to her first love: shopping. Ana was enjoying her role as hostess, contributing to the conversations going on around her and retrieving forgotten items or refills from the kitchen.

Christian gazed around the table at their family and felt heaviness upon his heart that somehow managed to coexist with the feeling of immense gratitude for his many blessings. No matter how much money he made, he knew that the people around him would always be his greatest treasure. The heaviness, he knew, was due to his indecision in regards to Elena Lincoln. Christian knew what he should do, but he was held back by the thought of bringing down a shitstorm of media attention on his family. They were all so good to him, Ana most of all. Am I really willing to let them all burn with me?

“Would anyone like a cup of coffee or a glass of wine with dessert?” Ana asked the group as a whole, pulling Christian out of his disheartening thoughts. A few people raised their hands.

“I’d prefer a beer, if you’ve got any,” Elliot replied with a smile. Ray and Brett agreed, and Christian rose to help his wife with the drinks.

“Just water for me, please,” Celia requested. Brett gave his wife a brilliant smile, and Ana paused on her way out of the room to watch them.

“What’s that all about?” she asked curiously.

“Nothing, I just… prefer water,” Celia shrugged, blushing at the sudden attention of everyone else in the room.

Ana and Christian made a few trays of drinks and returned to the kitchen a few minutes later. She watched Celia covertly as they passed the drinks around and replaced several empty serving dishes with desserts plates. Once everyone was tucking into their desserts, Ana nudged Celia beneath the table, raising an eyebrow and looking pointedly at her friend’s glass of water.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you ask for a glass of water rather than tea or soda, if not wine. Care to explain that one, dear?” Ana smirked, already fairly certain she knew the reason.

“Well… I’m trying to avoid alcohol and caffeine because… I’m pregnant,” Celia admitted, her smile brighter than Ana had ever seen it. There was a general cry of happy surprise around the table, and Ana leapt up from her seat to hug her friend.

“Congratulations! Guess this means you’re off the mat for a while, huh?” She hugged Brett as well before returning to her seat. Talk exploded throughout the group, several of them peppering Brett and Celia with questions.

“When are you due?”

“Was it a surprise?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Are you going to find out the sex?”

Celia looked overwhelmed but very happy as she answered each of them in turn. She was due in May and feeling great so far. It was definitely a surprise, but they were happy about it. They were of two minds about finding out the sex. Brett wanted to be surprised while Celia was hoping to sneak a peek at their next scan. Carla and Grace began to whisper back and forth after a little while, and Christian caught the gist of their conversation.

“We’ve been married less than six months, Mother,” he interrupted them, rolling his eyes. Ana raised her eyebrows at his sarcastic tone.

“Well, babies do take nine months to make,” Grace retorted. “There would be nothing wrong with getting started.”

“There’s no guarantee that it would happen right away either,” Carla reminded them, grinning excitedly. Christian and Ana traded smiles and shook their heads in good humor.

“Personally, I’m not quite ready to share my husband just yet,” Ana announced, winking at her husband. “We have plenty of time for babies.” Grace sighed and glanced involuntarily at her other two children.

“Don’t look at me!” Elliot laughed, throwing his hands up defensively. “I go to great lengths to make sure that doesn’t happen!”

“And I don’t even have a boyfriend, Mom,” Mia said, rolling her eyes.

“What happened to SuperSean and his shiny spandex?” Elliot asked, the alliteration making him sound a little like Daffy Duck. Those who hadn’t attended Mia’s Halloween party exchanged looks of confusion.

“We broke up,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “He’d been seeing someone behind my back, and she happened to show up at the party. Which you two would know if you hadn’t disappeared with your dates less than an hour in.”

“Hey, my date was my wife,” Christian replied. “Where does Sean work? Want me to get him fired?”

“No, thanks,” Mia smiled.

“Can you even do that?” Ray asked in surprise.

“Depends on where he works, but most likely,” Christian shrugged. Ray glanced at Carla to gauge her reaction to their son-in-law, but she was once again absorbed in conversation with Grace.

“Just leave it. He’s not worth the trouble,” Mia shook her head. “I wasn’t even all that upset, which says a lot.”

“Well, you should come back and hang out with us tonight,” Ana suggested. “Kate is coming for dinner, and she’s bringing Ethan with her.”

“Kate’s coming?” Elliot jumped in, his face lighting up perceptibly.

“Who’s Ethan?” Christian frowned.

“Her brother,” Mia and Ana answered in unison.

“I thought he was in Europe,” Elliot wondered aloud.

“He was, but he’s finally home now,” Ana smiled. Ethan had been studying abroad for the past two years and now had his master’s degree in international law.

A myriad of other conversations sprang up, and eventually everyone left the table in favor of the living room or kitchen. Once everyone but Ray and Carla had gone home, at least for the time being, Ana and her mother got to work on putting away the leftovers and tidying the kitchen. With the women occupied, Ray took the opportunity to ask his son-in-law for a private word.

“Sure,” Christian nodded, leading the way to his study. He’d known this was coming, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it. He gestured to the seat in front of his desk and then took his customary chair behind from it.

“Look, I’ll get straight to the point. I don’t need or want details about your personal lives, but I wouldn’t be doing my job as Annie’s father if I didn’t at least talk to you man-to-man about what happened the other day,” Ray explained bluntly.

“I understand your concern,” Christian assured him. “Ana and I may not have children yet, but if we did, I’d be concerned for my daughter as well, at least until I knew for certain that she was safe and respected in her relationship.”

“Exactly. Now, I don’t really have any doubts about those things when it comes to the two of you. It’s always been very clear that you make her happy and that you respect her. And you’re even more obsessive about her safety than I’ve ever been. I guess I just want to reiterate the warning I gave you a year ago when you asked for my blessing to propose.

“I warned you then that hurting my daughter, either physically or emotionally, would result in a world of pain for you. Now I’m saying it again. If you ever violate her consent in any way, there won’t be enough bodyguards in the world to save you.”

His expression was fierce, and had Christian been a different sort of man, a lesser man, he might have been intimidated. He could see himself having a conversation like this in twenty or thirty years, laying it on thick for whichever brave soul tried to date or marry his daughter. The thought left him with a warm feeling in the center of his chest.

“I can assure you, Ray, that I have no intention of ever doing any of those things. And if I did, my bodyguards would help you kill me, not that I’d put up a fight. Ana is the most

precious, most important person in my life. I’d never do anything to risk losing her.” Ray regarded him silently for a few moments and eventually gave a stern nod of approval.

“Well, alright then,” he replied, standing and extending his hand toward Christian as if they’d just sealed the deal on an acquisition.

The two men shook hands, and Christian followed Ray back to the kitchen where Carla and Ana were attempting to fit all of the leftovers in the refrigerator. It looked like a Tupperware version of Tetris.

“You know, there’s a fridge in the staff quarters,” Christian reminded them.

“That one will be used for their leftovers though,” Ana replied, adjusting containers of what looked like pasta salad and green bean casserole. Once the last item was in place, she shut the doors with a triumphant smile. “There!”

“You two ladies planning on shopping tomorrow?” Ray asked as they all made their way to the living room.

“Heavens, no!” Carla exclaimed. “I’ll never need anything badly enough to brave the Black Friday crowds. No sale is worth that madness.”

“Here, here,” Ana groaned. “I went last year with Grace and Mia, but there’s no way they’re getting me out of the house tomorrow. It was absolute insanity. I saw a woman my age intentionally trip an elderly lady so she could get to a display of handbags first. Then she grabbed all of them and disappeared into the crowd.”

“People lose their humanity in situations like that,” Christian shook his head in disapproval. “I don’t want you going out in crowds like that anyway. Anything could happen.” Ana smiled and rolled her eyes a little. Her smile grew even wider when she felt her husband’s palm twitch against her shoulder. He cleared his throat meaningfully, and she gazed up at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

Ana was pleased that her parents had been able to come for the holiday, but she was also little relieved that they were both leaving the following day. She and Christian would have plenty of playtime over the weekend. The four of them spent the rest of the afternoon in pleasant conversation until the first of their guests returned for the evening meal. Elliot had picked Mia up on his way to Escala, and they were still bickering at one another in their playful fashion when they stepped out of the elevator, immediately drawing the attention of those seated in the living room.

“It’s so painfully obvious, Elliot. I don’t know what’s wrong with either of you. For heaven’s sake, man up and just tell her already.”

“What part of mind your own business do you not understand?” Elliot griped back, his expression a mixture of weary annoyance and mild amusement.

“No part at all, when it comes to my family. I’m not backing off. Sooner or later you’re both going to pull your heads out of your asses, and I want to be there to say ‘I told you so.’”

“So sweet of you,” he muttered as they joined their hosts. Carla looked utterly lost, but Ray smirked a little. Ana and Christian glanced at one another, easily able to guess the parts of the argument they’d missed.

“Kate?” Ana asked her sister-in-law with a grin.

“Of course. Earlier when you said she was coming over later, his face lit up like a damn Christmas tree, and as soon as we got here, he was looking for her car in the parking garage. When he realized it wasn’t there, he pouted like a little boy.”

“I did not,” Elliot argued, inadvertently proving her point about his maturity level.

“Did too,” Mia retorted.

“Alright, enough,” Christian cut in. “Mia, drop it. All you’re doing is ensuring that when they finally do get back together, you’ll be the last one to know.”

“Damn straight,” Elliot agreed.

“So you admit you want to get back together!” Mia pounced.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Ray cleared his throat, trying to hide his smile at Elliot’s irritation as well as his foul language. He nudged Carla and gestured with a nod in the direction of the media room.

“Since this looks to be a gathering of the young folks, why don’t you and I go see what’s playing on our son-in-law’s obscenely large television.”

“Fine. As long as it’s not football,” Carla teased, smiling in spite of herself. Ray rolled his eyes for Ana’s benefit, who giggled as she watched her parents leave the room. It was nice to see them getting along, particularly after so many years of witnessing little more than begrudging tolerance between them.

To Elliot’s relief, Mia seemed to have let the subject of his feelings for Kate drop, at least for the time being. She’d moved on to other topics instead, namely her plan of attack for Black Friday shopping. It was completely with an itinerary and a detailed list of what stores were featuring which items. She begged Ana to join her and a few of her friends when they started their rounds before sunrise the following morning, but Ana refused as politely as she could. She was saved from her sister-in-law’s pestering by the sound of the elevator doors opening and used the opportunity to greet their guests as a means of ending the discussion.

“Hey, guys!” Ana smiled happily as Kate tugged her brother through the foyer and toward the main living area. His look of impressed disbelief at their surroundings was replaced by one of excitement when he spotted Ana.

“Ana Banana!” he cheered, sweeping her up into a spinning, bone-crushing hug. They both laughed and carried on happily for a moment while Christian looked on in irritated surprise. He knew Ethan only from Ana’s description, and he scowled at the obvious familiarity between them.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Ana laughed breathlessly. Her eyes found Christian’s, and she winced a little at the disapproval in his expression. Ethan followed her gaze and tried to check his broad smile, extending a hand toward his host.

“Ethan Kavanagh,” he introduced himself. “You must be Christian.”

“Yes,” Christian replied with a tight expression as the two men shook hands. “Ana’s husband.”

“Nice to meet you. And congratulations to both of you, of course. I hate that I missed the wedding,” Ethan added, elbowing Ana with a teasing grin. “I can’t believe how much you’ve changed since the last time I saw you.”

“I don’t look all that different,” she rolled her eyes, attempting to distract her husband from his ill-concealed dislike for Ethan’s tactile personality. Ana had last seen Ethan at her college graduation, and she wasn’t sure what changes he could be referring to.

“Aside from your wardrobe, that’s true, but I’m not talking about your appearance. Let’s see, you’d sworn off men after that lying asshole showed his true colors, and you were focused on beginning your career to the exclusion of all else. Since then, you’ve been promoted multiple times, and you actually got married.”

Ana laughed at the mix of pride and teasing in his voice, shrugging as though to concede the point. She greeted Kate belatedly, meeting Elliot’s eyes over her friend’s shoulder as they hugged. The truth of Mia’s earlier words was quite evident in his expression, and Ana too wished that he and Kate would ‘pull their heads out of their asses.’ She felt Christian’s hand at the small of her back and silently acknowledged his presence as he guided her and their guests back toward the living room.

Christian kept a wary eye on Ethan from that point forward. To his relief, it was clear that Ethan had no romantic designs on his wife. The worst that could be said about their interactions was that Ethan was simply a person who was prone to some sort of physical contact during conversation. He generally seemed unaware that he was even doing it, and it was clear that those who knew him well were accustomed his habit. Simple enough fix, Christian thought. Just keep my wife out of the fucker’s reach.

Unfortunately, there was little he could do to extend that course of action to include his sister. As the evening progressed, Ethan took a greater interest in Mia than anyone else, and she seemed to return it. Christian frowned as he watched them, deep in conversation about their individual impressions of Paris. His gaze flickered to his wife, who was observing them with a smug smile.

Not long after dinner, Mia suggested they all find an open club and go dancing. A few of the others looked interested, but Christian apologetically vetoed the idea. They were already short-staffed due to the holiday, and an outing like that would require more security than usual in light of the recent threat.

“Oh, come on! You could ditch the bodyguards for one night and just act your age, Christian,” Mia implored. Ana frowned, anticipating her husband’s ill-tempered response.

“Not tonight, Mia. We didn’t want to bring it up over the family meal, but there are some things going on right now.”

“Everyone knows about the security breach at GEH,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s been in the news for weeks.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I don’t want to get into it right now, but we’ve had a much more worrisome threat directed at Ana. Now isn’t the time to blow off our security detail.”

“It’s always something,” Mia complained, clearly not taking her brother’s concern seriously. Ana could understand her perspective, since Christian had always been a bit paranoid about safety, but in this instance, she was in full agreement with him. Taking unnecessary risks was the last thing they needed to be doing right now.

“I’ve got my CPOs carrying weapons, Mia. That alone should tell you that this isn’t a fucking joke,” Christian growled. The room went quiet, and Ana threaded her fingers through her husband’s supportively.

“Guns?” Elliot asked in alarm, all traces of his usual lightheartedness gone. “What the hell’s going on?”

“Yeah, I’ll second that,” Kate spoke up. “Who’s threatening Ana?”

Christian pursed his lips and looked at his wife, silently asking how much information she wanted him to share. Ana would rather have avoided the topic on what should be a day of giving thanks and enjoying time with family, but she supposed there was little to be done at this point.

“We’ve gotten threats from my mother’s ex-husband,” Ana sighed. “He was a bad guy, and he got out of jail not long ago. He seems to think my mother and I are to blame for all of his problems.” No one in the room knew about Stephen Morton other than Christian, and she could see the confusion in their eyes.

Over the next half hour or so, Ana gave their friends and family the lite version of events from her time in Nevada and the recent threats they’d received. She left out most of the details about the assault. Mia apologized for having been so flippant, and Ethan was full of questions about Morton’s arrest record. His specialty might have been international law, but he had a good foundation in domestic law as well. Elliot and Kate were concerned too, and Kate seemed a little hurt that Ana had never shared that part of her history before.

Once the heavy topic was laid to rest, everyone agreed on a night of drinking and conversation about more pleasant things. They worked through a considerable portion of Christian’s alcohol supply, and the guests stayed long into the night. Ethan and Mia weren’t the only ones who spent most of the evening flirting; Elliot and Kate were far from subtle in their pointed looks and innuendos. When at last they called it a night, everyone retired to the remaining guest room and the plush couch in the media room. Neither Christian nor Ana failed to notice that their guests paired off by couple rather than by siblings.

When they awoke the next morning, everyone was surprised to find that Mia had kept to her plan for Black Friday shopping, and Taylor informed Christian that she’d left in the wee hours. Ana was fairly certain that Mia hadn’t even bothered to sleep, and if Ethan’s satisfied smirk was anything to go by, Mia had made good use of the time. Elliot and Kate had an all-too-familiar glow as well. Everyone indulged in a cup of Gail’s strongest coffee and departed not long thereafter, including Ray and Carla.

When the time came to say goodbye to her parents, Ana wished them safe travels and felt, for the first time in a long while, that she might actually miss her mother’s presence until they could be together again. She begged them both to come again for Christmas, and they each promised to be there if possible. They both also vowed to call and check in a little

more frequently and to contact Ana or Christian immediately if something came up with the Morton situation.

“We have the house to ourselves again, Mrs. Grey,” Christian crooned in her ear as they watched the elevator doors close upon the faces of her parents. The deep resonance of his voice was all it took to send a gush of moisture into her panties.

“It seems so,” Ana grinned back.

“What would you like to do with our reclaimed freedom?”

“Hmmm,” she pretended to think. “Well, I suppose I haven’t kicked your ass at pool lately. Maybe we could play a round or two?”

“Best out of three? Winner chooses tonight’s playroom activity?” he suggested with a gleam of arousal in his gray eyes. Ana’s smile widened appreciatively.

“Bring it on, Sir.”

Chapter Fourteen

Friday December 5, 2014

As Christian had explained to Ana’s parents over Thanksgiving, their social calendar for the month of December was full of charity events and public appearances. Although things at GEH had stabilized enough that Christian had been able to return to his previous work schedule, the damage to the company’s reputation was still very much in effect. Their applicant rate had dropped significantly, and a few more deals had fallen through due to doubts about corporate security. As a result, the PR department was doing everything conceivable to boost the company’s image.

There were always more social invitations extended to the Greys at that time of year, but Christian usually declined them and opted to send a check instead. He and Ana had attended one or two last year, but she hadn’t found them all that enjoyable either. This year, however, there was no escaping them. Making appearances at the many charity functions that always sprang up around the holiday season was an effective way to attract positive publicity. Their calendars were booked with at least one event every weekend of the month and a few on weeknights as well.

While Ana didn’t have any objection to devoting a few evenings to worthy causes, repeating the ordeal so many times did get tedious. It was always the same set of apparently narrow-minded people wearing the same artificial smiles. She tended to get the impression that most of the attendees at such functions were really only there to bolster their own reputations. This, of course, made her feel more than a little guilty for essentially doing the same thing, regardless of the fact that she and Christian would’ve made sizeable contributions anyway.

It was with that in mind that Ana had made arrangements to volunteer at a few local homeless shelters with the scant amount of free time she would have left. Were it not for the recent security threats, she would have kept her plans to herself, but with the way things currently stood, she wasn’t about to venture anywhere on her own. It was arranged that she, Sawyer, and Mathison would leave Escala in plain clothing and a borrowed vehicle and take an indirect route to one of the larger shelters in Seattle. The last thing she wanted was press coverage for this particular outing. Not only was Ana averse to receiving public recognition for volunteer work, but the safety of those in the shelter was a concern as well. Some of the inhabitants might easily be hiding from people in their lives who wished them harm, and having their faces appear on the B roll of the six o’clock news could put them in real danger. Christian approved of her plan and regretted that he couldn’t accompany her himself at least once, but they feared that his face might be too recognizable to allow for it.

The first Friday of the month marked their first event of the season, and Ana stood in the large closet she shared with Christian, scrutinizing her reflection in the full-length mirror. She worried that perhaps the dress she’d chosen for the evening was a little too revealing. Generally speaking, if she even questioned that possibility, she felt obligated to change.

Unfortunately, however, the event they were dressing for was themed, and the only formal gown she had that fit in with the theme was the one she was currently wearing. The personal shopping staff at Neiman’s had sent over a host of dresses in various styles and colors, but only one of them was gold.

The dress probably wasn’t something Ana would’ve chosen for herself, as she didn’t really think that gold was the best color for her skin tone and there were more sequins than one might find on flashy pageant dress. They were placed strategically, heavy around the bust and hips but sprinkled lightly everywhere else. By the time the fabric reached floor-length, the sequins were non-existent, leaving only the sheer, nearly transparent material. It had the effect of drawing the eye to the curvy parts of a woman’s body, and the low cut of the neckline only added to the spectacle. Ana’s breasts were not overly large, but she was far from flat-chested. In most bras, she was comfortable in a D cup, and the gold dress offered just enough coverage to prevent indecency. Though she’d used adhesives beneath a dress before as a precaution, tonight it was an absolute necessity. The neckline plunged into the middle of her abdomen, revealing a generous portion of her breasts.

As Ana adjusted the sequined bodice, she chewed her bottom lip nervously. Christian hadn’t seen her yet, and she knew that he was going to react to her outfit in one of two ways. Either he would make her pay for her daring by teasing her all evening and then hauling her off to the playroom as soon as they got home, or else he would rip the dress off of her right there in the bedroom and they would miss the event entirely. Ana smirked at the thought; she was fine with either alternative.

She’d chosen a pair of silver and gold earrings that were somewhat understated but managed to incorporate her platinum-set diamond collar fairly well. She bent carefully to slip into a rather ridiculous pair of heels that she knew she would likely never wear again. They were completely covered in intricately sculpted gold roses and filigree, and although they matched the dress perfectly, they were so ornate and clearly expensive that it was a little sickening, especially for a charity function. Not that anyone will be looking at my feet, she sighed inwardly, her eyes once again finding the reflection of her impressive cleavage. Ana had twisted her hair into a simple but elegant updo, but now she wondered if perhaps she should have left it down so as to cover herself a little. In any case, it was too late for such an adjustment.

She heard the bathroom door open and knew that Christian would be in his white shirt and tuxedo pants. Ana spotted his jacket and gold bow tie hanging in the closet, so it wasn’t a surprise when he came through the doorway a moment later. Her back was to him, and he couldn’t see her reflection from where he was standing.

“Wow,” he breathed, his gaze moving slowly upward from the floor. The skirt of the gown was snug to around her mid-thigh then flowed more freely due to a long slit in one side. Her back was reasonably covered, so when she turned to face him, the contrast of the front was truly a shock. “Holy fuck! You’re wearing that?” he blanched, unable to tear his eyes away from her breasts.

“I’d rather not, but it’s the only gold dress I have. I couldn’t tell how revealing it would be until I put it on,” Ana admitted, blushing slightly. She couldn’t quite read the expression on her husband’s face, but it made her feel even more self-conscious. “It looks bad, doesn’t it?”

She was tempted to plead illness and take the stupid thing off, and her hands actually moved to the zipper at her side before Christian closed the distance between them and pulled her against his chest. Her gasp of surprise was the last breath she could take before his lips closed over hers. His arms were steel bands snaking around her waist and neck, holding her fast against his muscular body. Ana was stunned for a moment but quickly recovered, clinging to his broad shoulders as her knees weakened a little more with each passing second. When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, his eyes were dark pools of liquid iron.

“If I had my way, you’d be cuffed and bent over something right now. This dress…” He shook his head, unable to form the words. On the one hand, Christian wanted nothing more than to devour her on the spot, to hide her away from the probing eyes of others and worship her body until daybreak. On the other hand, he knew full well that there was no getting out of this event. Not only was the organization expecting his contribution, they’d asked him to give a short speech as well.

“We could just stay home…” Ana replied hopefully, a little smile playing around her lips.

“I wish that were the case,” Christian disagreed. “Judy would probably roast me alive if I backed out now, and though she may be my employee, I am a tiny bit afraid of her.”

“I don’t blame you,” she laughed, backing out of his arms to retrieve his tie. He stood still so that she could tie it neatly and fold his collar over the band.

“Make no mistake, Mrs. Grey; I will have you the minute we get back home. Do you have any idea how many men are going to be staring at those beautiful breasts all night? Judy may well end up wishing she’d just let me send a check, because the mess she’ll have to clean up if I have to remind anyone who you belong to will make the security breach look like a walk in the park.”

“No need to get physical with anyone,” Ana admonished, handing him his jacket.

“No, that will be reserved for my sweet wife. I have all night to plan the perfect scene, but one thing is for damn sure. I’m fucking those breasts tonight.”

If his spontaneous make-out session hadn’t already ruined her panties, that remark would’ve done the job. Ana shuddered as images of his cock moving between her breasts flooded her mind.

“Is that what you want, princess?” Christian said in a slightly firmer tone. She recognized the switch and lowered her eyes instinctively even as her smile stretched wider.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. I had some fun in mind for this evening while we’re out, but you’re already flushed and needy. I’m not sure you could handle anything else tonight.” Christian forced himself to step away from her and to retrieve their outerwear from the rack. He groaned as he took one last look at her chest before she covered it with her white wool overcoat. “We need to get out of here before I change my mind and take you this very minute.”

The charity event went off without a hitch, raising a substantial amount of money for an organization that provided Christmas gifts to underprivileged children. The only

unpleasant part of the evening was the snide commentary offered by a man at the next table shortly after Christian delivered his speech. Ana didn’t recognize him, but Christian later identified him as Thomas Ralston. He’d approached Ralston about an acquisition several weeks ago and had been summarily refused due to the security situation at GEH. Ralston had long envied Christian’s success in the business world, and he’d relished the opportunity to slam the proverbial door in his face. Christian’s speech centered around the importance of remembering those less fortunate, not just around the holidays but all year round. He briefly touched on his own experience with poverty, keeping the details at a minimum but speaking with obvious sincerity.

“That was a very pretty speech you gave, Grey. I almost believed you for a minute there,” a cold voice sneered from nearby as Christian reclaimed his seat. Ana turned in her chair and scowled at the man.

“Is there something you’d like to say, Ralston?” Christian asked in a low, dangerous voice.

“Not at all. So long as you know that no one really believes that horseshit about you being able to identify with the common folk. You’re a fucking Grey for Christ’s sake.”

Several of the guests within earshot frowned in disapproval at Ralston’s foul language, but only one spoke up.

“And you know his entire life story, do you?” Ana demanded in a clear but quiet tone. “Perhaps you’d do better to keep your profanities and your opinions to yourself.”

“Says a woman wearing close to a million in clothing and jewelry to a charity event. Talk about profane,” Ralston muttered.

Ana blushed furiously, having shared a similar thought as she’d dressed for the occasion. She wanted to tell him that he was inflating the worth of her wardrobe by rather a lot, but something in Christian’s expression made her bite her tongue. Her fingers touched the diamonds at her throat lightly, wondering, not for the first time, just how much her husband had spent on her collar and wedding ring set. Somehow, a million dollars didn’t seem that out of character for him. Ana swallowed thickly and turned her back to the offensive man. If you feed a troll, it will never go away, she reminded herself, taking a careful sip of her water. Unfortunately, Christian was not in the mood to turn the other cheek.

“Will you be checking in with the paps outside to report on her ensemble later, Ralston? I didn’t know you were so interested in ladies’ fashion. Make sure you compare next year’s dress as well. Assuming you’ll still be invited to such things once your company folds, that is.”

Ralston went red in the face, gnashing his teeth and apparently unable to deliver a comeback. Christian smirked and turned around to meet his wife’s amused and curious gaze. He winked at her and flagged down a passing waiter to ask for a refill. It wasn’t until later when they were headed home that Ana had the opportunity to ask about the obnoxious man’s identity.

“Why would he think my dress and jewelry were worth that much money?” Ana asked suspiciously.

“Because they are,” Christian smirked, enjoying her shocked expression. She touched her collar again, and this time, his hand joined hers. “I won’t give you an exact number, little girl, but you know me well enough to know that I spare no expense when it comes to you.” Ana shuddered at the return of his Dom voice as well as the feel of his fingers at her throat. The cold, dark interior of the SUV suddenly felt much warmer.

“You don’t think that’s a little absurd? Paying that much for jewelry?” she asked breathlessly. His hand moved to rest above her collar, and his fingers curved around her neck, squeezing gently. “Sir?” she added as an afterthought.

“Absolutely not. That collar and that ring are the most meaningful gifts I’ve ever given anyone. No amount would’ve been too much.”

Ana wanted to disagree with his statement regarding gifts; the best gift he’d ever given her was his love. She kept silent, however, choosing not to contradict him in that moment. He already had the look of a Dom who was preparing to torment his sub with pleasure until she begged for mercy. It was a look she recognized well. For the rest of the drive, his hand never strayed far from her throat, and his lips rarely left hers. By the time they reached Escala, she was dizzy with desire, and he had to keep an arm around her waist to prevent her from stumbling into the elevator.

“Playroom in ten minutes,” he instructed her. “Don’t change out of that dress.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Ana took the opportunity to use the restroom and remove the various pins from her hair. She braided it into the long plait she only wore in the playroom and left her silly gold shoes in the closet. The Red Room looked the same as the last time they’d been there a few days ago. Kneeling in her gold dress was a little tricky, but she managed it by hiking the skirt up and arranging it around her. When he entered the room, she kept her eyes lowered. His quiet footfalls made it clear that he’d removed his shoes as well, but his favored jeans were absent.

“Eyes on me, princess.”

Her gaze lifted immediately, and she saw that he had abandoned all but his tuxedo pants. Their eyes held as he pushed them over his hips, revealing the massive erection he’d been trying to conceal ever since he’d gotten his first glimpse of her dress. Ana’s mouth watered as it sprang forward.

“Do you have any idea how many people were staring at that magnificent body tonight? Not just the men, I noticed. They wanted to possess you, and the women wanted to be you,” Christian told her, stepping closer to touch her. His hand rested on top of her head for a moment before slipping down over her cheek to cup her jaw. The contact was firm but gentle. “The men looked at me with envy, Anastasia. Not because of my money or my success, but because of the stunningly beautiful woman on my arm. My wife.”

Ana closed her eyes briefly and smiled at him, leaning into the warmth of his hand. She hadn’t been oblivious to the stares and whispers, but she’d long since perfected the art of ignoring such attentions. It was an occupational hazard of being the woman on the arm of Christian Grey.

“Stand,” he said softly. She obeyed, and he caught her lips in another kiss. This one was less frenzied than the ones they’d shared in the SUV, but it still set her pulse racing. “As much as I enjoy this dress, I’ve been waiting to peel you out of it for too long.”

He removed the dress at a painstakingly slow speed, pausing to press his lips to the newly exposed skin of her shoulders, her stomach, her hips, her thighs, and finally, her breasts. He slipped the white lacy thong over her hips and knelt to place a quick kiss to her mound as well, making her shudder in response. He was back on his feet far too quickly for her liking, but she held her tongue. Christian stepped away to retrieve a few things for the scene, and she forced herself not to peek at what was coming.

“Come.” He took her hand and led her to the arched bondage table they’d used in their very first scene together, and Ana felt her heart hammering in anticipation. As he carefully bent her backward over the table and cuffed her to the support structure, he continued to speak to her. “I know that when you look in the mirror, you rarely see yourself the way I do. I see long, shapely limbs… beautifully feminine curves… smooth, flawless skin… a smile that warms the soul… eyes that show your strength, your intelligence, your heart…”

His fingers traced a long line from her collarbones to her core, and Ana writhed beneath the feather-light touch, already desperate for more.

“You’re stunning, Anastasia. And you’re mine.”

“Yours, Sir,” Ana moaned.

“Good girl,” he crooned, causing her to pant a little harder. He dipped a single finger into her molten heat and grinned appreciatively before bringing it to his lips. “Always so ready for me, little girl. But I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a little longer for that.”

Christian’s smile widened at her whimper of chagrin, and he wrapped his fingers around the braided handle of the rope flogger he’d selected. It was designed for more sensual play with more than fifty ‘falls’ of thin, unraveled rope. There were small knots in each fall every few inches, adding a bit of thud, but the rope was soft to the touch. No matter how hard he might swing the flogger, it wasn’t possible to inflict any real pain with it.

He brought the implement down swiftly, scattering a series of blows over her torso as she squirmed against the crimson leather of the table. Ana groaned when he paused to drag the thin ropes slowly over body, aching for more. She craved a firmer touch, hungered for his roughness, but he held back. Over and over, the knotted ropes connected with the sensitive skin of her breasts, but it was never enough. She needed more.

Her head was relaxed and hanging off the edge of the table, but it popped up quickly when she heard the flogger hit the floor. Christian gazed at her as a starving man might eye a plate of food, but Ana’s eyes were fixed on his right hand. It moved up and down his shaft, and she had rarely been more jealous of those five fingers.

“Please, Sir,” she whispered, begging for his touch.

“Suffering, are you?” He looked anything but empathetic.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Patience, Anastasia. Just a little longer.”

Christian straddled the bondage table easily, his long legs framing the sides. He smiled in satisfaction as he took her breasts in his hands, massaging them firmly and pinching the rosy peaks. Ana moaned loudly and strained against him. He aligned his cock with her sternum and brought the mounds of flesh together around it, encasing his flesh with hers. It wasn’t the first time he’d fucked her breasts, but he’d never done it while she was bound and helpless. It made a world of difference in her mind, though the sensation was essentially the same.

Power exchange could bring a new taste of intimacy to virtually any act, and this was no exception. Ana struggled to keep her head upright so that she could enjoy the visual of his cock sliding back and forth between her breasts. Her eyes traveled upward periodically to watch his expression, and it was hard to say which she found to be more arousing. If she hadn’t been bound, she’d have leaned her head even farther forward to sweep her tongue against the tip with each pass.

Christian was enjoying himself immensely, watching his shaft move against her full breasts. He’d been picturing it all evening, inwardly gloating to every man who’d ogled his wife that he would be the only one to enjoy all of her charms. There was no part of Ana’s body that he didn’t cherish and lust after, but her breasts were certainly near the top of the list. They were full and round, and he’d long since memorized the weight of them in his hands. Whether they were being pressed against his chest when she hugged him or bouncing rhythmically while he fucked her, they were simply perfect.

As much as he loved fucking her breasts, he knew that his girl was in desperate need of release, and he’d been denying her the touch she needed most. He uncuffed her ankles but left her wrists in place, lifting her legs until they were parallel with his body. Her center glistened in the soft light, beckoning him. He encouraged her to bend her knees and brace her feet against the arch of the table so that he could kneel between her legs.

“Don’t hold back,” he instructed.

Ana cried out as his mouth fastened firmly to her core, pushing his tongue into her. Christian groaned against her slick flesh, devouring her sweet nectar as though it held the promise of eternal life. When he sucked her clit into his mouth, her thighs began to shake.

“Sir… Please!”

He answered her plea by biting down on her clit, and Ana hoped it was his way of granting his permission to come. She shattered against his mouth, unable to hold onto or orgasm for another second. He kept his tongue in motion until the spasms slowed, and when he finally lifted his head, the sight that met his eyes almost unmanned him. Her chest was heaving, her head was thrown back in ecstasy, her eyes were closed, and her lips were parted. A thin sheen of sweat made her flawless skin glow, and the peaks of her breasts were taut and dark.

She was magnificent. And she was his.

Christian quickly moved into position again, straightening her legs and holding them flush against his chest while he buried himself in her pulsating warmth. Ana moaned gratefully as he filled her, and she grunted a little with the force of each thrust. He held her body in place and prevented her from slipping off the table head first. Her wrists were still bound, and his grip prevented any movement on her part. He was finally giving her

the roughness she’d been craving from him, and when her second orgasm fell upon her, it never seemed to end.

Christian came with a shout and a final thrust that penetrated so deep, Ana briefly lost the ability to draw breath. Her eyes rolled backward in her head as the sweet spasms of release milked every drop from him, and by the time he’d run dry, his entire body felt weak with tremor. He withdrew himself slowly and gently lay her legs against the arched table again, leaning down to uncuff her wrists. It took a moment for his strength to return so that he could tend to her needs.

Ana’s body was completely limp, and she gave him a sweet, sated smile as he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the en suite. They relaxed in the sunken bathtub for long enough to regain a bit more awareness, and he washed her body with a slow tenderness that felt like worship.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

Chapter Fifteen

Saturday December 6, 2014

Ana yawned and sipped her hot coffee in the backseat of Mathison’s Toyota Camry. Although she’d certainly had earlier mornings, she was still feeling the fatigue of a late evening spent in uncomfortable shoes, followed by a round of rigorous playtime. Christian had been needed in the office that morning, and Ana was happy to have something important to occupy her time and her thoughts.

Sawyer sat in the passenger seat while Mathison drove. Ana shifted a little in her seat; it felt strange to be in Mathison’s personal vehicle. She had styled her hair differently and had sent Gail on an errand to purchase some suitable clothing and a coat from Walmart, as she’d long since donated her pre-Christian wardrobe. Her CPOs were dressed in a similar fashion, and she hoped that the disguises would be enough to keep the press off their backs. Their mission that day had nothing to do with seeking recognition or salvaging the reputation of her husband’s business. Ana was doing it because she wanted to, not because it was expected of a billionaire’s wife.

Ana knew that the homeless shelter where they would be volunteering was one of the largest in the area, but the size of the place still amazed her. It was only a little smaller than an average-sized warehouse, and there were people loitering around the entrance when they arrived. They paid her no mind as she entered the building with Sawyer and Mathison. A male volunteer eyed her curiously when they stepped inside, but his face showed no sign that he recognized her. Ana asked to be directed to the person in charge, and the man beckoned them down a narrow hallway. They stopped at the last office, the door of which was standing open. A woman in her mid-thirties looked up expectantly from her desk.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, I spoke with a Sarah Dempsey on the phone the other day to arrange some volunteer hours,” Ana replied. The woman’s eyes brightened in recognition.

“Of course, you must be Mrs. Grey.” She stood and extended her hand politely, failing to hide her surprise over Ana’s appearance.

“Let’s just stick with Ana, if you don’t mind,” Ana smiled, shaking the woman’s hand politely before gesturing to her CPOs. “And this is Luke and Kent. They’re here to pitch in as well, but the three of us will need to stay together so that they can do their jobs as my security detail. Covertly, of course.”

“Certainly,” Ms. Dempsey agreed. “That won’t be a problem, and please, call me Sarah. We’re very glad to have you here. Would you like a quick tour before we find a job for you?”

“That would be wonderful; thank you.”

They followed Sarah away from the offices and into the main part of the shelter. When they rounded a corner into an area clearly designated for sleeping, Ana was momentarily stunned by the number of cots on the floor. They were arranged in long rows with narrow aisles in between, and in spite of the time of day, not all of them were empty.

“How many?” Ana asked quietly.

“We have sixty here and another forty in a separate area. We try to separate by gender whenever possible, keeping the women and children in one room and the men in another. There are a number of single fathers, though, so they end up in here with the other parents.”

“I thought most shelters only opened their doors to the public in the evenings and at mealtimes.”

“That’s usually the case, but in the winter, we allow anyone with small children to remain indoors. The others must leave and come back. It’s not ideal, but it’s more than many shelters can offer,” Sarah explained.

“All beds full every night?” Luke asked her.

“Without fail. We’re usually forced to turn away between twenty and thirty people, depending on the weather.”

“Where do they go?” Ana frowned.

“They try their luck at one of the other shelters or take their chances outside in the elements. We serve food for each meal until we run out. There are never leftovers or second helpings. We also have a limited number of showers, and they’re nearly always occupied.”

As Sarah continued to explain the details of the shelter’s operation, Ana’s eye was caught by a small boy some twenty feet away from where they stood. He was sitting upright on a cot next to what she presumed was his mother, though the woman appeared to be asleep. When he turned to look at them, Ana’s breath caught in her chest. It had been his copper curls that had drawn her eye in the first place, but she was stunned when she got a good look at his face. He could have been related to her husband.

For one terrifying moment, she weighed the odds that Christian might actually have a child that he was unaware of, but she quashed the notion immediately. For one thing, the woman asleep on the cot was a blonde. The little boy looked to be around five years old, and Ana knew enough of her husband’s sexual history to know that he’d only had sex with the occasional brunette at Eros during that time period. Still, she mused as Sarah’s tour brought them closer to the boy, it’s almost creepy.

Ana’s eyes kept flickering back to the child, who continued to gaze at her silently. Her heart contracted as she wondered about his story, and it was easy to picture Christian in his place. A dirty-faced but adorable little boy, guarding his sleeping mother in the middle of a homeless shelter on a cold winter day. As she, Sawyer, and Mathison were put to work sorting through clothing donations, the copper-haired boy remained in her thoughts.

The inner workings of the shelter were as one might expect, but what resonated withAna more than anything was the overwhelming feeling of insufficiency. Though there were numerous volunteers, mountains of donations, and enough food to feed over a hundred

people, it still wasn’t enough. There were still so many who would be forced to sleep on the streets that night, so many who would be turned away from the food line once the pots were empty. No matter how many coats and blankets were donated, there would still be those who froze to death in the winter months.

It was heartbreaking, and when Ana returned to Escala later that afternoon, she was almost relieved that Christian hadn’t come home from the office yet. She needed some time to get her head on straight, and she didn’t want to worry him. The interior of their penthouse apartment looked strange to her as she stepped out of the elevator. So much wasted space, she sighed, thinking of the hundred or so homeless people who would cram themselves into the shelter that evening. In that moment, the extreme wealth she shared with Christian had never seemed more perverse.

Ana knew that they donated a great deal to charity. Christian was lauded as one of the most generous philanthropists in the country, but it was hard to remember that when she was surrounded by such extravagance. She worried that she’d become so accustomed to her husband’s expensive tastes that she’d fallen out of touch with reality and forgotten what it was like to be normal.

As Ana shrugged out of her bargain brand clothing and started the shower, the wheels in her mind continued to turn. Volunteering her time had been fulfilling, but she was determined to do more.

Monday December 8, 2014

Within two days of her visit to the homeless shelter, Ana had the beginnings of a plan to improve the lives of Seattle’s displaced citizens. She’d thrown herself into research on Sunday, and once she’d spoken to Christian about her experience, he had set his paperwork aside and given her a hand in tracking down the information she needed. Ana looked up from her crowded inbox as Hannah’s voice came over the intercom.

“I have your mother-in-law returning your call, Ana. Line two.”

“Thanks, Hannah.” She picked up the phone and pressed the button to connect the call. “Grace, thanks for getting back to me. Do you have a little time to talk?”

“Of course, dear. I’m on a break for the next half hour or so. I haven’t talked to Christian in a few days. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Christian and I are great. I actually wanted to talk to you about your charity work. I need some advice.” Ana knew that Grace had a hand in several local charities, including the one she and Carrick had founded themselves. She couldn’t think of a more appropriate person to help her with this endeavor.

“Oh,” Grace said in surprise. “I’d be happy to help. Does someone want you on their board? Because I’d been thinking of asking you to fill an upcoming vacancy on the board for Coping Together, actually…”

“Not as such, no. Though I’d be happy to help with Coping Together in any way I can. This is about something else though. I’d like to start my own charity for the city’s homeless population.” Ana gave her mother-in-law a brief description of her experience at the shelter on Saturday and the feelings that had led her to the decision. “There are so many

of them, Grace. There aren’t enough beds, enough food, enough clothing. There are dozens of outreach programs, but they’re all relatively small when it comes to the supply and demand of the situation. It’s not enough.”

“I couldn’t agree more, dear. The way this country treats the poorest of its citizens is disgraceful. I’d love to hear your ideas.”

“Thank you, Grace. Are you free for lunch today? I have some of the research started, but what I really need is contact information for anyone who might be in a position to help. I know you have a large network of people who would be able to help get this up and running.”

“Absolutely! My lunch hour is at one. We could eat in my office so that we have some peace and quiet, if you like. I know the press has been a concern lately.”

“That sounds perfect,” Ana agreed. They made arrangements for their meal, and she ended the call feeling optimistic.

Ana’s plan for the charity was simple in structure but somewhat grand in scale. Her research had shown that the city’s homeless shelters were too widely spaced and too small to provide for everyone in each particular ‘zone.’ Several areas of the city lacked shelters entirely, although displacement was an issue almost everywhere. When she’d broken down the list of outreach programs, she discovered that most of them were connected in some way to a local church of some kind, and that had given her the basis of a plan for organization.

As in most American cities, there was a church roughly every five or six blocks. They were a bit more spaced out in the suburbs, but Ana’s primary focus was the inner city, at least for now. Increasing the size of the shelters or finding land to build new ones was a difficult undertaking, but increasing the number of them was a more realistic approach.

Ana’s goal was to utilize the community’s churches as night shelters. Most of the congregations already contributed donations to the local shelters, so she hoped that with a little extra support, they would be willing to open their buildings to those in need as well. She wanted her foundation to provide all of the funding they would need for supplies and increased utility usage so that each church need only donate their time and space. If the initiative helped even one person survive the winter, Ana would consider it money well spent.

Her lunch with Grace went well, and her mother-in-law was thoroughly impressed with the idea. She was quick to point out, however, that Ana’s desire for anonymity would be counterproductive.

“Getting all of this set up will require public support, and to get that you’ll have to reach out to the community, Ana. I understand your reasons for volunteering ‘undercover’ so to speak, but you know as well as I do that the Grey name will attract the media attention you need.”

“I did think of that. The publicity would mean that I wouldn’t be able to contribute firsthand again, but hopefully I’ll be able to help more people this way. It’s just that… I don’t know anything about running a charity, Grace. I don’t know where to start or who to talk to…”

“I can help you with that,” Grace assured her with a smile. “It’s a wonderful idea, and I’m more than happy to help you get on your feet. I’ve started making a list of names for you, and I think you should talk to someone in PR at GEH as well. They’ll be able to put you in touch with the right people in the media so that you can get the message out quickly and effectively.”

“I don’t want them to use it as another way of improving GEH’s reputation,” Ana frowned. “My schedule is full of events this month for that purpose, and I don’t want this connected to all of that.”

“I get it, dear, but there probably isn’t much you can do about that. People are going to believe what they choose to believe. Even if you go on record saying that one thing has nothing to do with the other, not everyone will believe it,” Grace said kindly. Ana sighed in disappointment, knowing that her mother-in-law was right. If being in the public eye had taught her anything, it was that perception was reality. “I can see that bothers you, but you have to look at it this way… Do those opinions really matter if the end result is the same? If you can help these people?”

“No,” Ana replied softly, her eyes distant. “You’re right. I’m just so tired of the show, I suppose. I want this to be about something real.”

“What do you mean?”

“All of these public appearances… banquets, balls, ceremonies, luncheons… It’s exhausting. The press expects me to wear a different overpriced designer outfit to every event, different shoes, different hairstyles, different jewelry. They’re so obsessed with that nonsense that the actual focus of the events or charities is completely overshadowed. It’s appalling. I don’t want my outfit to get more news coverage than the needs of the people we’re trying to help.”

“I certainly agree. You’re in the public eye quite a bit more than I’ve ever been, but I can understand how taxing it must be. When I start to feel overwhelmed by all of it, I force myself to focus on what’s most important. On what’s ‘real,’ like you said. The people we love, the work we do, the things that bring us joy… They’re what’s real. You handle yourself beautifully with the press, and I’m sure you’ll continue to do so. Try to think of them as a resource rather than a hindrance, dear.”

Ana left Grace’s office with a list of useful contacts in hand, feeling fairly optimistic about her next steps. She was pleased to see a few names on the list that she recognized, and she decided to start with those names first. Christian glanced over the list that evening and gave her a general summary of those she didn’t know.

“I’ve said it before, but I feel the need to say it again,” he whispered into her ear as they spooned in bed that night. “I’m proud of you, Mrs. Grey.”

“Thank you,” Ana murmured sleepily, feeling the familiar warmth in her chest at his words.

“You saw a problem and came up with a solution that has the potential to save lives.”

“I hope so. I can’t stop thinking about that little boy,” she admitted. “I see him every time I close my eyes. I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened to you if you hadn’t been

adopted. You might’ve ended up just like him… or worse.” She sniffled a little on the last word, and his arms tightened around her.

“I was lucky. It’s strange to look back at my childhood and say those words, but it’s the truth. Grace and Carrick saved my life. And now you’re going to save lives too. I know it.”

Christian kissed her temple and caressed the satiny skin of her bare shoulder, soothing her to sleep with his touch.

Thursday December 11, 2014

Christian guided his wife through the press tent outside of yet another charity dinner, this time for the Fraternal Order of Police. Once inside the venue, they were directed to their table, and Ana’s face lit up when she spotted their dinner companions.

“Hey!” she greeted them cheerfully, rushing forward to hug Celia. Christian shook Brett’s hand and helped his wife into her chair before taking the one at her side. “You look wonderful! You’re totally glowing. How do you feel?”

“I feel great,” Celia replied, returning Ana’s brilliant smile. “I know the second trimester is the easiest though, so ask me again in a few months.”

“I’ve heard that too. Are you feeling any movement yet?”

Christian grinned at Brett as their wives carried on chattering about babies, holiday plans, and the newly created Seattle Homeless Initiative. The company of their friends made the event far more enjoyable than the others they’d attended recently, at least until the soporific speeches and scary dancing started. As things were winding down, Brett rose and moved to the open seat on Christian’s other side.

“Have you given any more thought to the hearing next month?” Brett asked quietly. Christian scowled and glanced around them to check for eavesdroppers.

“Do we really need to discuss that here?”

“You have time for a more private chat sometime before Christmas?” his friend retorted with a hint of a smirk.

“Fair point,” Christian sighed. “I’ve given it some thought, yes… But I haven’t made a decision yet. Things have been pretty crazy lately, at work and at home.” The words were true, but he inwardly acknowledged that he’d used the security breach and the Morton situation as an excuse to avoid thinking about Elena.

“I need to know as soon as possible so I can inform the D.A. We have statements from several of the other victims lined up, but not all of them.”

“Will it be enough?”

“Hard to say,” Brett frowned. “A few didn’t want to reopen old wounds, and one of them died a few years ago. Suicide.”

“Fuck… Because of her?”

“The family seemed to think so. Just another thing she’ll never be punished for, I guess.”

Christian’s brows lifted at the bitterness in his friend’s tone. Brett had wanted him to speak out against Elena at her first trial, regardless of the fact that it was too late to charge her with her crimes against him. Christian had refused out of concern for his family finding out the truth, and eventually Brett had come to accept his decision. Now he was faced with a similar opportunity, and Christian didn’t have to guess his friend’s opinion on the matter.

“Either way,” Brett spoke again, interrupting his thoughts, “I need to know as soon as possible. This judge doesn’t like last minute additions to the witness list, and we need him on our side.”

“I’ll let you know soon,” Christian promised, feeling a little sick to his stomach.

Spending the evening with their friends had put Ana in such a good mood that he couldn’t bring himself to broach the subject of Elena that night. Unfortunately, his subconscious had other ideas.

Christian’s eyes struggled to focus on his surroundings, and it took him a moment to recognize the once-familiar shapes of Elena’s dungeon. His instincts told him to run, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he registered the heavy shackles around his wrists and ankles. He was bound face up on a long, metal table, stripped naked and confined to a cock cage. He hated them, especially because she always left them on for too long.

Elena stood over him, looking like the Domme of his teenage years rather than the run-down inmate she’d been when last he’d seen her. Her bleached-blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail, emphasizing the surgically enhanced angles of her jaw and cheekbones. Her makeup was thick, and her eyes were bright with the sort of curious intrigue one might detect in a child who enjoyed pulling wings off flies.

Her lips were moving, but his brain couldn’t make sense of her words, trapped as it was in the horror of the cruelest of her punishments. She needed no implement to cause him intense pain. It took no more than a single finger pressed to each scar on his chest. Christian screamed and thrashed against the table, but for each time the word RED left his lips, she merely applied more pressure.

Ana was roused from sleep by the shaking of the bed, and she rolled over in confusion to search for the cause. Christian was twisted in their bedsheets, fighting them as though they were a living thing determined to devour him. She gasped in shock at the terrified sound of his voice.

“Red, red, red!”

“Christian!” she sobbed, shaking him roughly. “Wake up!”

With a suddenness that startled him, the unwelcome touch was gone. He was no longer bound and caged on the table but standing in the middle of the dungeon. There was a slender, brunette woman kneeling on the floor with her back to him, showing an expanse of skin that was marred by bright red welts. Christian winced sympathetically, but when he raised his hand to comfort the woman, he realized he was holding a whip. The woman turned to look at him, and the sight of her face froze the air in his lungs.

Ana! No, no, no…

He dropped the whip to the ground in horror, but Elena was at his side in an instant, calling him a coward, mocking him. She tried to push the whip back into his hand and shouted at him to hit Ana again, but he refused at equal volume.

“You’re weak. Pathetic. She needs a firm hand. You’re useless! I’ll show you how it’s done, boy...”

Christian tried to move between the two women, willing to take the lash of Elena’s whip if it meant sparing Ana. To his shock, however, the weapon Elena wielded now was something else entirely. The acrid scent of smoke burned his nostrils, and he leapt backward instinctively. Elena’s hand was inches from Ana’s pale skin…

“Christian!” Ana shouted, her voice cracking with the volume. She’d climbed on top of him in an attempt to impede his thrashing about, but his arms continued to flail as he screamed.

“Ana! No!”

Ana grunted as one of his hands connected with her face, ignoring the wetness she felt trickling from her nose. She wrestled his arms down to his sides, lying on top of him and wrapping her limbs around him as tightly as possible. Her face was level with his head, and she spoke calmly but loudly into his ear.

“You’re okay, Christian. Wake up. You’re safe. I’m right here. Wake up!”

Slowly, his body began to relax, and his breathing became less frantic. Ana didn’t budge, however. She clung to him, sobbing brokenly against his cheek.

“Ana?” His arms came around her at once, easily breaking through her grip. He squeezed her so tightly that the air was forced from her lungs, but she didn’t complain or try to stop him. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he soothed her. Ana sat up, still straddling him.

“Don’t you dare apologize. You were… I couldn’t…” She was still sobbing uncontrollably, and Christian leaned over to flip the switch on the lamp. He gasped at the sight of her face.

“Fuck!” he shouted in alarm. “Oh God, baby, I’m so sorry!” Christian sat up, got a firm hold on her bottom, and stood up. She wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders, allowing him to carry her to the bathroom. He nudged the lightswitch with his elbow and placed her carefully on the counter. “Fuck, Ana… I’m so, so sorry.”

“Stop,” she hiccupped, rubbing her eyes against the brighter light.

Guilt burned a hole in his gut as he took a damp washcloth to her face and wiped away the blood. Her nose didn’t look broken, but he knew that it would be swollen for a day or two. He was still reeling from the intensity of his nightmare, and once he finished tending to her face, he lifted her t-shirt over her head.

“I’m sorry; I just need to see…” His gaze fell upon the reflection of her back in the mirror, and he sighed in relief when it proved to be just as flawless as ever. There were no angry welts, no ugly burns or scars. Christian held his hands against her cheeks and kissed her softly, mindful of her sore nose. Ana was calm enough now to kiss him back, and her arms encircled his waist to keep him close. “Please forgive me, Ana. I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“Enough,” Ana replied, shaking her head and pressing her index finger to his lips. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I hurt you,” he said miserably.

“It was an accident. I could’ve been smarter about trying to wake you up. Next time I’ll get Taylor and let him get the bloody nose,” she teased, trying to make him smile. He merely gazed back at her with watery eyes, and she sighed. “What was it about?”

Christian shook his head and looked away, buying time by rinsing the blood out of the washcloth. He’d been so relieved when his chronic nightmares had stopped, and the few nights he’d had to spend away from Ana were usually enough to remind him just how lucky he was to have her as his talisman of sorts. Tonight was the first time she’d ever witnessed one of his night terrors, and he hoped like hell that it would be the last.

“Christian, please. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you need to. Don’t shut me out.” He regarded her sadly for a few moments but eventually nodded, guiding her back to bed. There was a little blood on the sheet where his pillow should have been, but he didn’t care. He retrieved the pillow from the floor and covered the stain. They could deal with it tomorrow. Ana situated herself so that she could cradle his head in her arms, and he buried his face against her chest, memorizing her sweet scent as he breathed her in.

“I was in her dungeon,” he admitted once they were settled. The slender hands that wove through his hair stilled briefly before resuming their movements. “She was touching me, and it burned… But then it changed, and you were there too. She was telling me to whip you, and you had welts all over your back. I wouldn’t hit you, and she… she had a cigarette…” Christian’s voice began to shake too much to continue, and Ana pressed her lips to his forehead.

“Shhhh. Okay. I’m safe. We both are. She will never hurt you again. And if I’m ever in a room alone with that bitch, she won’t be walking out of it in one piece,” Ana said darkly. They were quiet for a few minutes before he spoke again, more softly this time.

“I won’t ever use a whip on you, Ana. I know your limits are evolving, but consider that one of mine now. I can’t do it.”

“I’d never ask you to,” she promised, kissing him again. “Do you know what brought this on? We haven’t talked about her in weeks…”

“Brett brought up the hearing at dinner. He needs an answer one way or the other.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were so happy tonight, Ana. You actually enjoyed the evening, and I didn’t want to ruin it. I would’ve brought it up tomorrow.” Christian closed his eyes and inhaled her scent again, desperate to chase away the memory of the cigarette’s stench.

“You know I’ll support you no matter what, Christian. That hasn’t changed. But I do think that speaking against her might be good for you. Cathartic, I guess. It might bring you some more closure to the situation.”

“I want to, but… How can I put my family through that? Put you through that? It could get out of hand so easily, Ana.”

She sighed and snuggled him a little closer, resting her cheek against his forehead. It was a difficult decision with potentially severe consequences on both sides.

“Sleep on it,” she suggested. “Let’s talk about it more tomorrow and find some time to talk to our families about it too.” Ana doubted very much that anyone in their family would give anything less than their full support should Christian decide to take the stand, but convincing her husband of that wasn’t something she could do alone.

“I don’t want to sleep. I can’t go back there,” Christian whispered, the pain in his voice making her chest ache. She felt powerless, and as they lay in the darkness, the silence seemed to take on a life of its own. It intensified the loneliness and vulnerability they were both feeling until Ana felt compelled to fill it with something… anything.

She’d never sung for Christian before, mostly due to her own self-consciousness, but the words and notes came to her naturally. The melody flowed easily in spite of the tears she’d just shed and the weight of his head on her chest. Christian held his breath as he listened, stunned by the unexpected sound of her sweet voice. He’d heard many renditions of I’ll Stand by You over the years, but none compared to this. The lyrics were perfect, and it was exactly the message he needed to hear in that moment.

She sang it through twice, but he was asleep before the conclusion of the second round. This time, he slept free of nightmares, safe in his wife’s arms.

Chapter Sixteen

Saturday December 13, 2014

“Christian, take a breath, okay? I really don’t think you have anything to worry about from your family on this matter. They’ve been behind you in everything else. Why would this be any different?”

Ana poured a glass of scotch for her husband as he paced the floor of his study. When they’d awoken the morning after his nightmare, Christian had announced that he’d decided to speak against Elena at her upcoming parole hearing. He was insistent, however, on gaining the approval of their families beforehand. If any one of them expressed opposition to the matter, Christian would respect their wishes.

“They’ve been questioned by the press before, but never about anything this personal. It was always my company, or my humanitarian works, or speculations about who I might be dating. Me being identified as a victim of a pedophile isn’t the same thing, and that’s probably the least uncomfortable thing that could potentially come out.”

“I know,” Ana sighed. “I’m not saying it’s a cut and dried situation or that it’ll be easy, but… There are worse things. We are extraordinarily blessed, Christian. We have a loving family, a successful business, and most importantly, we have each other. This will pass, one way or another. Hell, if my parents can be supportive, then yours certainly will be.”

Christian nodded reluctantly. Ana had called her parents individually that morning to gauge their support in the situation. They had both been appalled to learn about that part of Christian’s past, but they had voiced their support before Ana had even been able to explain the potential fallout. If her and Christian’s lifestyle did somehow become public knowledge, she was certain that her parents wouldn’t be spared from the attention of the media. To her surprise, however, their support hadn’t wavered. Carla was concerned with her own reputation, but she didn’t shrink at the prospect of standing behind her daughter and son-in-law. Ray was squarely in their corner as well, though he certainly wasn’t pleased at the idea of being hounded by reporters.

Christian had been amazed when Ana had relayed both conversations, and it had given him hope that his own immediate family would be just as supportive. Nothing could relieve him of the guilt he was feeling, however. He wished more than anything that he could go back to that humid afternoon in Elena’s backyard and make a different choice.

Ana gave her husband a brief but loving kiss and left him to collect himself before their guests arrived. As she set the table for dinner, she wondered if perhaps she should have invited Kate as well. They could very well end up needing her help at some point, and Ana was confident that her friend would be up for the challenge. She, Kate, Grace, and Mia had spent a few hours Christmas shopping that afternoon, and she could easily have extended the dinner invitation to Kate then. One thing at a time, Ana reminded herself. If anyone in Christian’s family was opposed to his plan to testify, then there would likely be no reason to involve Kate at all.

Christian emerged from the study a short while later, and his family arrived not long after. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits in light of the approaching holiday, and there was quite a bit of playful teasing and hints about Christmas gifts. When most of the family had finished with dessert, Christian cleared his throat to get their attention.

“There’s something I need to discuss with you all, and I’ve put it off long enough. Ana and I have had a very busy schedule lately, but I’d just as soon not wait and bring this up when we’re all together for Christmas.”

“Is everything okay?” Carrick asked, frowning in concern at his son’s obvious discomfort.

“Not really. A while back, I received a letter… from Elena.” He paused, nodding in acknowledgment of the general outcry of surprise and anger from his family. “Seems her lawyer has pulled some strings and managed to get her parole hearing moved up. Something about overcrowding and having a good behavior record.”

“She’s not due to be released for another five years,” Grace sputtered. “How can they do that?”

“Unfortunately, it happens quite often,” Carrick replied, shaking his head in disgust. “Who’s her attorney?”

“Some guy named Harmon. I don’t remember his first name.”

“George Harmon, I’d imagine. He’s good.” Carrick spat the man’s name and reached over to hold his wife’s hand.

“She wants me to speak on her behalf,” Christian explained.

“Are you serious? Who the fuck does she think she is?” To everyone’s surprise, the question came not from Elliot but from Grace, who was shaking with anger. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Mom, I never considered actually doing it,” Christian soothed her. “I’d never defend her to anyone, and certainly not to a judge.”

“Then why bring it up?” Mia asked, her expression troubled. Elliot spoke up from beside her.

“Because he wants to stick it to the bitch. Speak against her.”

“Yes,” Christian nodded. “But I won’t do it without the approval of everyone at this table.”

“Why would we disapprove? She shouldn’t be allowed to walk the streets ever again after what she did.”

“It’s not that simple, Mia,” Carrick explained. “All testimonies will become public record. The extent of Christian’s former connection with Elena would be out in the open. What about GEH, son?”

“It could be problem,” Christian agreed. “Especially when stacked alongside the issues we’re already having. The heat is just starting to dissipate since the breach, but… Depending on what comes out, it could be very bad.”

“Christian, you were a victim,” Grace pointed out, compassion and residual anger warring in her expression. “I know the attention would be uncomfortable, but I, for one, would love to see the look on that troll’s face when she realizes you helped bring her down.”

“That’s not the disclosure that worries me, Mom. I accepted a startup loan from her, knowing that she was a pedophile. When she was on trial before, the media’s focus was on her crimes, and my involvement with her was largely overlooked. It wasn’t like I was the only person she’d had business dealings with. That loan was never made known, though, and regardless of my frame of mind at the time, I can’t deny the fact that I built my business with help from someone I knew was a pedophile.”

The table was silent as everyone digested the information, and Ana copied Carrick’s gesture of comfort, squeezing Christian’s hand encouragingly.

“We’ve talked about this before, Christian,” Ana said softly. “You didn’t realize then what she was. She groomed and brainwashed you, and that’s on her. Not you.”

“The end result is the same,” he shrugged, pursing his lips and forcing himself to continue. “As daunting as that prospect is, it’s not the only thing that could come out if I go out of my way to piss Elena off. She knows about my lifestyle, or she at least suspects it. While I have doubts that any reputable news source would print her side of anything, there are plenty of tabloids that don’t bother with things like ethics. If that comes out, the press will be all over you as well as us.”

“Bring it on,” Elliot grumbled. “People can talk all they want; it won’t change my opinion of you or of Ana. You’re both good people, and you love each other. What you do in private is no one’s business, and I’ll gladly say that to anyone who shoves a mic in my face.”

“Amen,” Mia agreed. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t be uncomfortable, but the people who would be most affected by it are you two. It’s really not up to us.” Ana smiled at them both and thanked them quietly.

“I think there are ways you could control the message, if it came to that,” Grace spoke up. “You have my support no matter what you decide, but if you do choose to speak against her, count me in as well. I’m a former friend of hers and a parent of one of her victims. I’d love a chance to get on the stand and give her a piece of my mind.” Her voice shook with renewed anger, and the others at the table nodded in agreement. Christian gave a pained smile.

“I don’t think it would be necessary, but I’ll pass the offer along to Brett. Dad?” Christian addressed his father, who had fallen into silent contemplation.

“If you choose to do this, I’m behind you. No matter what. But I want you to be sure you know what you’re doing. This kind of scandal…” he paused, shaking his head. “It’s the kind of thing that can bring companies down. It snowballs into one problem after another until there’s nothing left. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it, and I’m not saying there’s no hope if you do. I just want you to go into it with your eyes open and your fists up. Because it will be a fight, one way or another.”

“I know that,” Christian sighed. “I’m willing to fight for what I’ve built, but that’s on me.”

“And me,” Ana smiled encouragingly. “I don’t shrink from a fight.” Her husband smiled sadly back at her and brought her hand to his lips.

“It’s so unfair,” Mia lamented. “What happened to you as a teenager and what you do behind closed doors has nothing to do with your ability to run a successful business.”

“Of course it doesn’t, but we live in a rather Puritanical society when it comes to anything even mildly taboo. People tend to fear or oppose what they don’t understand,” Ana replied shrewdly. “They’ll say I’m a victim of domestic abuse and Christian is mentally ill. They’ll say the abuse he suffered as a teenager damaged his brain somehow. They’ll say he’s too busy beating his wife to pay attention to his company. They’ll say that we can’t possibly love one another if we have a relationship that contradicts the cultural consensus of what’s acceptable...”

“Ridiculous,” Grace growled, shaking her head in disgust. “I may not entirely understand it on a practical level, but anyone who spends even a few minutes in a room with the two of you can see how much you love each other. How devoted you are to one another. I don’t have a problem going on record and saying precisely that.”

“Thank you,” Christian said quietly, bowing his head. He was humbled by their unanimous support. “In her letter, it was pretty clear that Elena has no concept of the fact that she was in the wrong. She has no remorse and takes no responsibility. That, more than anything, is pushing me to speak up. If they release her, she’ll be back to her old tricks in no time. She’s nothing if not persistent.”

“Then that’s what you should do,” his mother encouraged. “We can’t allow our own fears to keep us from doing what we know is right.”

“Have you talked to Kate yet?” Elliot spoke up. “You’re going to need someone in the press on your side. I can’t think of a better person, and I know she’d help you as much as she could.”

“We haven’t brought it up with her yet,” Ana replied. “But we will.”

“I wanted to make sure we had everyone’s support before taking that step,” Christian added, feeling his tension ease a little more as everyone reiterated their agreement with the plan.

The next step would be to sit down with Kate and Judy McKay and discuss the possible precautions they could take. Ana had expressed the opinion that a preemptive strike might be the best approach, and Christian was inclined to agree with her. It was just a matter of when, and he hoped that it could at least be put off until after the New Year. Their lives had been so hectic for the last few months, and he was craving some downtime. He wanted a quiet Christmas with his family, one that would allow them to forget their troubles, even if only for a day or two.

Tuesday December 16, 2014

“And we’re out!”

Ana sighed in relief as the radio producer declared them to be off the air and accepted the handshake of the woman who had just finished interviewing her for the Seattle Homeless Initiative. Public speaking, even from the relative privacy of a sound booth, was not something Ana found to be easy or enjoyable.

Grace’s contacts had really come through for her, especially on such short notice. They had the basic infrastructure for the foundation in place, and eleven local churches had already pledged to join their efforts. The church buildings were of various sizes and

locations, and all were willing to contribute volunteers as well as physical space to aid the city’s homeless citizens through the winter.

Judy McKay had been thrilled at the prospect of yet another opportunity for good publicity, but Ana had quickly made it clear that SHI had nothing to do with Christian’s company. GEH would be welcomed as a sponsor, but the only other connection was the fact that the head of the foundation was married to GEH’s CEO. Judy had been sympathetic to Ana’s desire to let SHI stand on its own merits, but she’d been persistent in her effort to convince Ana not to squander the benefits of her public reputation.

“You took your husband’s name when you married, dear,” Judy had pointed out kindly. “It would be silly not to capitalize on it now, especially when doing so could help so many people.”

As a result of that conversation, Ana had reluctantly agreed to do several radio spots and a press conference to announce the formation of SHI. The Grey name had worked its magic, opening doors and garnering donations almost immediately. Crowds of hovering reporters were once again gathering outside of GEH and Escala on a regular basis. Ana did her best to remember Grace’s advice to see the press as a resource rather than a hindrance, and she tried to greet them with a wave and a smile at the very least.

Ana and Christian were due to sit down with Kate that evening and answer questions for the article she was planning. Kate was in full agreement with a preemptive strike strategy, but after talking it over with Brett, Christian had come to understand that the exact timing of the article was extremely important. If Kate published too late and Elena were to release the information first, they would lose the opportunity to get ahead of the message. If she published too early, word of the article might get to Elena in prison and give her time to come up with a new strategy to secure her release. Christian wanted her to be blindsided in the courtroom, at least as much as was possible. His name would be on the witness list, but Brett had agreed to wait until the last possible moment to make the change. The judge wouldn’t like it much, but in this situation, the element of surprise would be more valuable.

Ana left the radio station in the company of her loyal security detail and directed them to take her home. She had less than an hour before Kate was expected to show up, and she hoped that Christian would be able to make it home on time as well. As if in response to her thoughts, her cell rang from inside her purse.

“Good evening, Mr. Grey,” she said with a smile after reading the caller ID.

“I just heard you on the radio, baby. You sounded great. I don’t know what you were so nervous about; you were a natural.”

“Thanks,” Ana sighed. “It wasn’t so bad once we got going with the questions, but I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy giving interviews.”

“Hopefully that doesn’t extend to your best friend, because you’ve got another one to give tonight.” If the situation had been less serious, he might have chuckled a little, but Ana could hear the underlying tension in his voice.

“Yeah, Kate doesn’t intimidate me. She said she was interviewing a psychologist earlier today though. I must admit, I’m curious as to how that went.”

“Well, I think we’ve both done enough research to know the general consensus in the medical community. I think having an expert weigh in would probably do a lot of good.”

“I hope so. Are you on your way home?”

“Yeah, that’s the other reason I was calling. I’ll be there, but we’ll have an extra guest. Judy wants to sit in. She was… less than pleased today when I told her everything that was going on.”

“Can you blame her? I don’t know when the woman sleeps these days, what with all of the fires she’s been putting out lately. If she can get us through the hearing and whatever aftermath comes with it, you should double her salary. Did you warn Gail that we’ll need an extra plate?”

“Taylor texted her. We’re pulling into the garage now. The press are outside again, so be careful,” Christian warned. Ana shook her head and laughed a little.

“They’re persistent, I’ll give them that. You would think they’d have given up on the whole stake out routine by now. They almost never get anything.”

“I guess it’s the hope of defying the odds. See you soon, baby.”

When Ana arrived home, she opted not to change out of her professional attire in light of their evening plans. She felt more confident and poised in her work clothes. Instead, she focused on helping Gail finish the dinner preparations.

As Ana set the table for four, she looked up to see her husband switching on the lights of the enormous Christmas tree they’d put up together. It was about twelve feet tall, though the high ceilings of the living area were more than able to accommodate its size. They’d purchased the tree last year along with a variety of trimmings. Their parents had each sent a few ornaments from their childhoods, and Christian and Ana purchased a few commemorative ones as well. They had added a new ornament this year to celebrate their second Christmas together.

“You doing alright?” Ana asked her husband as he joined her in the dining room. Christian nodded and gave her a bracing smile.

“I don’t want to do this, but the more I think about it, the more certain I am that it’s the right thing to do. If going public with everything is the only way to keep that woman in jail where she belongs…”

“I agree,” Ana nodded. “What worries me is that even if we beat her this time, she will be released eventually. Five more years isn’t enough. What will we do about her then? We could have children by then…”

“I won’t let her near any of us,” he promised, stepping closer to wrap his arms around her. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep everyone safe, and that includes our children.”

Ana snuggled into his chest, and Christian pressed his lips to the top of her head, inhaling her warm, clean scent. It wasn’t the first time he’d contemplated the prospect of his abuser being released into the same city where he might be raising a family with his wife. He was prepared to take any measures necessary to keep Elena and anyone like her away from his children, no matter how drastic those measures might be.

Kate and Judy arrived almost at the same time, and Christian made the usual polite introductions before they all sat down to dinner. They’d decided to conduct the actual interview after everyone had finished their meal.

“So this hearing is on the eighth of next month?” Kate asked, spearing a bite of glazed salmon with her fork.

“Yes,” Christian replied. “It’s a Thursday. If the judge rules in her favor, the article will need to be released immediately. If he rules against her, I’d say it needs to be within twenty-four hours. Regardless of how it goes for her, she’ll want to retaliate.”

“Because she thinks you owe her something?” Judy asked in confusion. “I apologize, Mr. Grey, but I’m having a hard time comprehending that.”

“She’s not an easy person to explain. One would expect someone in Mrs. Lincoln’s position to feel some remorse for what she’s done, but that’s not how her mind operates. She’s a narcissist. She won’t ever take responsibility for what she’s done because she doesn’t believe she did anything wrong in the first place.”

“And you think she’s going to be pissed when you show up to speak against her rather than for her. She doesn’t know you’re coming at all?”

“Correct. We’re going to try to hold off as long as we can on that and hope that her attorney doesn’t have time to notify her until the day of the hearing.”

“I can understand your reason for the timing of the press release, but I can’t help but wonder why you feel the need to validate any claim this woman might make,” Judy replied.

“What do you mean?” Ana asked.

“Well, this is the word of a convicted pedophile we’re talking about. Only the tabloids will print her story, and even some of those might turn her away. I’m not saying you won’t have to address the issue in some way, but why not simply… lie? I get that you’re basically going to out yourself as one of her victims, but that doesn’t mean that you have to fess up to her accusations about your lifestyle.”

Kate nodded in agreement, and Christian glanced at Ana before answering the question.

“Our immediate families and close friends aren’t the only people who are aware of our lifestyle. There are a few people with whom Ana and I interacted before we met, and there’s a chance that someone somewhere has concrete evidence that would prove the claims. As such, I can’t publicly deny them. If I did, and someone managed to produce proof that I lied, my credibility would be completely gone.”

“This story is going to damage that credibility with a lot of people, Mr. Grey,” Judy pointed out.

“I know that,” he admitted. “But I have to hope that the steps we’re taking to control the message and educate people about the reality of the situation will limit the fallout. I sure as hell don’t want our private lives all over the media like this, but if it’s inevitable, then I want to be the one in control.”

“I guess I can appreciate that,” Kate spoke up, smiling gently. “I can’t really predict what the public response will be, but I would imagine that there will be at least some support to balance out the naysayers.”

“The BDSM community is mostly a silent one, but it’s bigger than you’d think,” Ana replied. “I think we’ll have their support, even if it only comes from behind the safety of a computer screen.”

Once everyone had finished their dinner, they moved into the living room, and Kate began the interview process. The questions were reminiscent of the conversation she’d had with her friend just after they’d solicited her help with the Mark Kisler incident. Kate directed some questions at Christian and others at Ana, making sure to balance the article with both perspectives. She also gave them a brief summary of her interview with the psychologist earlier that day, which she believed would reflect positively on the article.

“Of course, some people won’t care what an expert has to say on the matter. If they have their minds made up, then that’s that. But I’m sure those who are less rigid in their thinking will find it enlightening.”

“Let’s hope so,” Ana sighed.

“Now,” Kate said, closing her laptop and leaning forward with a playful grin. “What are the chances of getting a photo or two of this mythical playroom of yours?”

Judy wore an expression of open curiosity, and Ana laughed at the question. Christian gave Kate a reluctant smile but answered firmly.

“Not happening.”

Chapter Seventeen

December 25, 2014 Christmas Day

“Wake up, Mrs. Grey.”

Ana stirred at the sensation of Christian’s breath tickling her ear, and when she opened her eyes, she let out a sleepy giggle at the expression on his face. There was absolutely no trace of the composed CEO in his features; his gray eyes were bright with child-like excitement.

“I’m awake, Christian. Did Santa come?” she teased. He chuckled and attacked her neck with kisses, eliciting more laughter from her chest.

“Let’s go find out. I have a feeling you won’t find all of your gifts under the tree, however.”

“I have a feeling the same could be said about you.”

Christian’s smile widened, and he rose to his feet, attempting to pull her from the bed by her hands. Ana laughed and insisted on relieving herself before opening any gifts, and he waited impatiently outside the door.

“Stop hovering! Why don’t you go make some coffee?”

“Not tea?”

“It’s seven a.m., Christian. You kept me up past midnight with your kinky fuckery. I’m going to need some real caffeine today.”

Christian snorted in amusement but didn’t argue with her as he left the room to start the coffee. When she emerged from the master suite a few minutes later, he could tell that she’d washed her face and brushed her teeth and hair. Ana’s feet left the ground momentarily when he wrapped his arms around her waist and captured her lips in a deep kiss.

“Mmm. Good morning to you too, Mr. Grey,” she giggled, feeling his morning arousal through his pajama pants. “Sure you don’t want to take care of that first? The presents will still be there.”

“As fun as that sounds, I’d like to get our gifts exchanged before your dad gets here, and if I take you now, there’s a good chance I’ll still be inside you when he arrives.” Hearing him talk about being inside of her would’ve been a turn on had it not come in the same sentence as a reference to her father.

“Yeah, okay. That’s probably not a good idea,” she agreed.

Once they each had a cup of coffee in hand, Christian guided her to the living room. She noted the addition of a few wrapped gifts since the night before and wondered when he’d had time to place them there. Christian insisted that she open her gifts from him first, and Ana was thrilled to receive each of them. He gave her a stunning set of diamond earrings,

several new pieces of lingerie, and a photo album he’d compiled of pictures taken on their honeymoon. When it came time to open his own gifts, he was only slightly more reserved. Ana gave him a new watch engraved with their initials and wedding date, which he immediately fastened around his wrist. The contents of the second package brought him up short, however, and he looked at her with one eyebrow raised.

“This is something you want to try?” he asked in amused disbelief. Ana grinned and nodded, her eyes gleaming deviously. “You know how it works?”

“Of course, Christian. I did some research, saw some pictures online… I think it looks like fun.” He continued to stare at her, and she rolled her eyes pointedly. “If you’d rather not, you can just say so.”

“Oh no, I think it’ll be fun. I’ve never used one before, and I didn’t think it would be something you’d like,” he explained, his arousal now back in full force. Christian looked down at the object in the box again and smiled in admiration of his wife’s dirty mind. It was a silver metal hook of sorts, with a moderately sized silver ball on the shorter end. The long end had a hole through which a length of rope could be threaded.

“Why wouldn’t I? I like anal play, and I like bondage. Combining them makes sense.”

“I suppose it does,” Christian chuckled. “You’re lucky we’re expecting company soon, princess, else I’d insist on trying it out right now.” Their playful gazes held for a moment, and Ana was tempted to beg for some playtime regardless of the fact that Ray would be arriving soon.

“I’ll have a hard time thinking about much else until we’re alone tomorrow,” she grinned, rising to her feet. “You have another gift downstairs though.”

“As it happens, so do you. But first, another surprise.” Christian retrieved his wallet from the end table and removed a small laminated card. Ana smiled brightly as she recognized the familiar image of a motorcycle license.

“Actually… I knew you’d been working on this,” she said gently, still smiling. “You fell asleep one night with your laptop still open to one of the online courses.”

“Damn, I thought you’d be surprised,” he replied, pouting a little as he slipped the ID back into his wallet.

“Don’t be disappointed. Let’s go downstairs and see your other gift.”

They each donned coats over their pajamas and headed down to the garage level, cuddling and kissing in the corner of the elevator for the entire thirty-story trip. When the long row of vehicles came into view, both of their jaws dropped in surprise.

Christian was amazed to see a crimson red sport bike parked next to Tony. He hadn’t learned enough about them yet to recognize the brand, but when he looked at his wife for more information, her eyes appeared to be glazed over and fixed on the gunmetal gray Audi R8 he’d purchased for her. Christian grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, disturbing her mindless gawk.

“I thought you might like a change of pace from the SUV now and then.”

“You… You bought me a sportscar?” she asked incredulously.

“Do you like it?”

“Of course! It’s beautiful! Holy shit, Christian…” Ana hadn’t owned a car since her old VW Bug, and she didn’t really consider the fleet of Audis to belong to her specifically. Since her CPOs had been charged with the task of escorting her safely from place to place, she hadn’t felt a need to purchase a personal vehicle. “You’re actually going to let me drive this?” she chuckled.

“You’re actually going to trust me to drive that?” Christian laughed in return, pointing at the red bike. Ana beamed, belatedly remembering the gift she’d been most excited to give him.

“It’s an MTT Turbine Streetfighter. It’s got a Rolls-Royce turbine engine with four hundred twenty horsepower!”

“Holy fuck, Ana. How much was it?”

“How much was my R8?”

“Not telling.”

“Then neither am I.” The ensuing staring contest might’ve been more intimidating if either of them could’ve wiped the smiles from their faces. Ana broke first. “What are you going to name her?”

“Her?” he parroted teasingly. “You’re going to let me ride another woman?”

“Watch it,” Ana warned, her voice and expression dropping instantly. He laughed and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her soundly as she melted into him.

“What’s a good name for a fast girl in red? Suzie? Lola?”

“No,” she made a face and looked at the bike in consideration. “What about Roxie?”

“Sounds like a hooker.”

“You said a fast girl in red,” Ana chuckled.

“Hmm. Tony and Roxie. I like it,” he grinned approvingly. “I wish the weather was warm enough for a test ride, but we’d freeze our asses off. Let’s get back inside.” Ana followed him back into the elevator, her thoughts returning to her new car.

“You know I can just Google the cost of the car, right?”

“Just as I can with the bike.”

“Oh no, you can find the list price, but that won’t cover the personal touches I had added. Special paint job, upgraded rear camera…” She giggled at his expression and recognized it as that of a Dom warning his brat to tread carefully. Christian shook his head, smiling in spite of himself.

“Well, at any rate, I’m glad you seem to be completely over your aversion to spending our money. Thank you for the bike, baby. I love it.”

“Thank you for the car. I can’t wait to drive it. Maybe we could even race them somewh-”

“Not a chance.”

“So no chance of your mother showing up, huh?” Ray asked later that afternoon as they made their way to Grace and Carrick’s. Carla and Bob had been invited for the holiday festivities as well, but Carla had fallen ill unexpectedly and was not well enough to travel.

“Not this year,” Ana replied with a chuckle. “You’re safe.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered guiltily. “I was just surprised, since I thought you two were doing better lately.”

“We are, but I’d prefer not to catch whatever it is she’s got. She sounds awful.”

Ana had been talking with her mother on the phone or via Skype at least twice a week since Thanksgiving. It was refreshing to feel like Carla was genuinely interested in her life, and she hoped that things would continue to progress. They were both disappointed at the change in their Christmas plans, but Carla had promised to come for another visit sometime in February.

“Anything new from Morton? I noticed your bodyguards are still more numerous than usual, even on the holiday.”

“I promised to tell you about anything else that came up, Dad. There’s been nothing since November. He took two months between letters last time. I’m beginning to wonder if he has an end game at all, honestly. Maybe he just wants to intimidate us and force us to spend money on extra security. That would certainly fit his personality.” Christian threw her a disapproving look.

“Don’t get complacent, Anastasia,” her husband admonished her. “We can’t take anything for granted with someone like that.”

“I agree,” Ray nodded, raising his brows a little at Christian’s use of Ana’s full name. He waited for his daughter to argue the point or at least remind him to call her Ana, but no such rebuttal came.

“I know,” she said softly, linking her fingers with Christian’s. With everything on their plate at the moment, Ana wasn’t about to pick a fight about anything, much less Stephen Morton.

As soon as they stepped over the threshold at Christian’s parents’ house, they were overwhelmed by the heavenly aroma of their holiday meal. Grace and Mia had apparently been working all afternoon to finish the preparations, and Ana’s stomach growled loudly as she inhaled the pleasant scent. Christian smirked as he took her coat and hung it with his near the door.

Everyone greeted them warmly, exchanging hugs and wishes of Merry Christmas. To Ana’s surprise, she recognized Elliot’s date immediately.

“Merry Christmas, Kavanagh. I didn’t expect to see you here; I would’ve brought your gift.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It was kind of a last-minute thing,” Kate waved her hand dismissively, smiling at her friend and tugging her gently away from everyone else. “I think this is it, Ana. We’re back together, and I think it’s for good this time.”

“Really? That’s wonderful! What changed?”

“We both did, I guess. Neither of us have dated other people since last summer. We’ve hooked up so many times these last few months that we both sort of realized that we were already in a relationship again, just without saying the words out loud,” Kate explained, her cheeks pink with elation.

“So what happened?”

“We said the words out loud,” she shrugged. Ana hugged her and whispered a congratulations into her ear.

“I’m so happy for you both. You two belong together; I’ve always known that. You just had to pull your heads out of your asses.”

“That’s exactly what Mia said,” Kate chortled. “And Grace, actually.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I want it to work this time, Ana. I think we were both just too stubborn before and too afraid of change, but he’s the one. I know it. I don’t know why I wasted so much energy running away from him.”

“A little uncertainty is normal, and there’s nothing wrong with taking things slowly. Now you both know what you want, and you’re ready to embrace it,” Ana reassured her, smiling happily. Christian raised his eyebrows inquisitively when they she and Kate returned to the living room, and Ana curled up beneath his arm on the sofa next to him.

“My brother seems a lot more cheerful than when we saw him last.”

“He and Kate are back together.”

“Again?” he said dryly. The back of Ana’s hand connected with his chest.

“For good this time, Kate thinks. She certainly seems different.”

“That explains Mia’s good mood too, then. She’s dancing around the kitchen like a fucking Keebler elf.”

“I heard that!” his sister announced as she came into the room. Her bright smile took the heat out of any irritation she might have been feeling with her brother, and she hugged Ana tightly. “Merry Christmas. It’s time to eat!”

Dinner was a noisy but pleasant affair, and Ana had rarely felt more grateful for her many blessings. Having grown up as an only child, she’d always longed for the bustle and abundant love of a large family. Now she had one, and she loved every single one of them more than she could articulate.

The conversation flowed naturally from one topic to the next, and no one was left out. Mia shared news of an upcoming promotion that would take effect in the new year, and Grace and Ana talked about the progress of SHI. Christian and Carrick traded opinions on the latest developments at GEH, and Ray had apparently joined the grandbaby bandwagon with Grace and Carla. This time, however, Grace’s hopeful gaze flickered back and forth between both of her sons. Elliot shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but Christian merely laughed.

After dinner and dessert, everyone retired to the family room to exchange gifts and enjoy each other’s company. A Christmas Story played on the television, creating a lighthearted

atmosphere while they chatted amongst themselves and let their food digest. When Elliot excused himself to the restroom after a little while, Kate moved to the vacant seat next to Ana, who was once again curled happily beneath her husband’s arm.

“Hey, I wanted to give you guys a heads up,” Kate said quietly. “The article is finished, but we’re going to need at least one photograph of the two of you. Something that shows how much you love each other, but probably not a wedding photo. It should be something a little sexier. I can arrange a photoshoot this week sometime if you want.”

“I’ll see when we’re free and let you know. Can we read the article?” Ana asked eagerly.

“Yeah, it’s on a flash drive in my purse. I thought you’d want to see it as soon as possible, but I didn’t want to risk emailing it.”

“Good call,” Christian nodded. “Thank you, Kate.”

“Anytime,” she smiled. “Let me know about the pictures. It would be great if we could have three or four good shots.”

Everyone said their goodbyes shortly after the movie ended, and Ana tucked Kate’s flash drive into her coat pocket. The ride back to Escala was dark and mostly quiet, each of them battling the fatigue of a long day. Ray bid them goodnight as soon as they entered the penthouse, kissing Ana’s cheek and giving Christian a paternal pat on the back.

“Bed, Mrs. Grey?” Christian asked as Ray headed upstairs to one of the guest rooms.

“Yes, but grab your laptop. I want to read Kate’s article.”

Once they’d changed into their pajamas and settled into bed, Christian plugged the small memory stick into the USB port. The flash drive held the transcript of the interview they’d given Kate as well as that of the interview she’d conducted with the psychologist. The completed article was in a separate document, and Christian clicked the icon with a feeling of slight trepidation. They both leaned forward simultaneously and began to read.

Shades of Grey Intriguing Revelations from the Billionaire and His Bride

by Katherine A. Kavanagh

Whether you’ve followed his career in the professional arena or you’ve been thirsting for the heavily-guarded details of his personal life, chances are that if you live in Seattle, you’re familiar with the name Christian Grey. Making his first million at age twenty-three, and his first billion just two years later, Grey has long been hailed as the most successful man of his generation. More than a hundred companies now fall under the umbrella of Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc, with offices in dozens of major cities in the US and around the world.

While his professional career has been well documented, there is little public knowledge about Grey’s personal life. Many in the society press speculated for years that he might be gay, due to the fact that he was never photographed with a woman aside from his mother and sister. It wasn’t until 2013 that he met the love of his life, Anastasia Steele, and news of their relationship took Seattle by storm.

Anastasia Steele (now Grey) works as a Senior Fiction Editor, and she met Grey when he purchased the publishing house where she was employed. By all appearances, their whirlwind romance has all the makings of a typical fairy tale. Beautiful, small town girl meets handsome, successful businessman. They fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after.

...or so it seems.

I had the opportunity to interview this power couple about a part of their lives that has, until now, remained a secret to all but those who know them best. As Anastasia’s friend and former roommate, I count myself as one of those lucky few who have been privy to the information for some time. When the couple approached me with their need to take the story public, I was eager to help them share their message. Anyone who spends even a few minutes in a room with Christian and Anastasia Grey can see how much they love each other. Their unwavering devotion is as plain as the smiles on their faces, and their protective instincts towards one another are well-known at GEH and to the public in general.

It will likely come as a shock to many, therefore, to learn that behind closed doors, they are more than simply husband and wife. Christian is a Dominant, and Anastasia is his submissive.

The world of BDSM exists largely in the shadows, primarily as a result of a society that doesn’t understand what it’s really about. The acronym encompasses three separate meanings: Bondage and Discipline, Domination and submission, and Sadomasochism. For those on the outside looking in, there is a great deal of confusion and misconception as to what these words represent. Many would see a woman who plays a submissive role in her relationship as someone who is being oppressed or even abused. Others might understand that it is a personal choice, but they may still see it as an affront to feminism and the many women who have worked so tirelessly in the name of equality.

“That perspective always makes me chuckle a little,” Anastasia laughed when I brought it up. “First and foremost, feminism is about choice; it’s about a woman being free to choose the life she wants to lead. It could be a choice between staying home with her children or choosing to go to work, shaving her legs or not, getting married or not, using birth control or not. As women, we have the right to make those choices for ourselves and not be degraded because of them. The choice to submit, or to Dominate, for that matter, is just another example of feminism at its best.”

Christian took the opportunity to add that there are many male submissives and female Dominants in the ‘lifestyle’ as well. Submissive men often suffer a similar stigma of being weak and unmasculine, and Dominant women are sometimes accused of not being feminine enough. It seems there is really no way to satisfy everyone’s ideal concept of what a relationship should be.

Christian and Anastasia took me through some of the key elements of a BDSM relationship. They stressed the importance of acknowledging that relationships, like people, vary greatly from one to the next. However, the BDSM community has a few guidelines for those seeking to explore their kinky sides.

1. Safety should be the top priority of everyone involved. While things like pain play or bondage may involve risks, it’s important to stay as safe as possible and avoid any permanent physical harm.

2. Mental well-being is as important as physical well-being. Creating a fantasy scenario can be fun, but blurring the lines between fantasy and reality can be dangerous. A particular behavior is not safe simply because it doesn’t harm the body; it should also not harm the mind.

3. The full consent of all parties is non-negotiable. It should go without saying, but consent is required not only for sex but for all intimate activities. Everyone involved has the right to set limits upon what they will or won’t do, and those limits are to be respected at all times.

The motto of ‘Safe, Sane, and Consensual’ is widely accepted in the kink community, and those tenets filter down into a number of other things, including, but not limited to, the use of safewords, predefined limits, contracts, and safety training.

Now, if you’re like me, reading all of that might leave you thinking that the whole thing seems a bit… cold. The Greys were quick to correct that misconception.

“On the contrary, my connection with Christian is more intense and intimate than I’ve ever had with anyone,” Anastasia explained. “He cherishes and protects me, and I never feel like anything less than an equal partner in our relationship.”

“A healthy relationship is built on more than just love. It takes trust, respect, and communication. Adding the element of power exchange to a relationship makes those things even more important,” Christian added.

I had the pleasure of speaking to board-certified psychologist Dr. Andrew Wyatt on the subject of BDSM relationships, and he had this to say on the matter:

“There was a study published just last year on the mental health of BDSM practitioners, and the results weren’t as one might expect. Subjects who practiced that lifestyle actually scored better on a variety of personality and psychology measures than those subjects who didn’t engage in ‘unusual’ sex acts. BDSM isn’t classified as a disorder unless it causes harm to the practitioner or to others, and there are many in the mental health community who believe that it shouldn’t be classified as a paraphilia at all.”

When I revealed the full text of the interview with Dr. Wyatt to Christian and Anastasia, neither were particularly surprised at the findings of the study he mentioned. They were, however, quick to point out that they themselves were making no claim of superiority of any kind.

“Our relationship works for us, and that’s all that matters,” Anastasia explained. “Everyone deserves to have a healthy connection with whomever they love, regardless of how they choose to show that love to one another or to the world. The approval of society shouldn’t be a factor. Whether you’re straight, gay, bisexual, kinky, vanilla… Everyone deserves to find love and be happy.”

In light of the fact that the Greys have always guarded their privacy so carefully, I felt compelled to ask what they hope to achieve by ‘coming out.’

“I know that there are many who are curious about the lifestyle and want to explore but may not know how or where to start. I’d like to reassure them first that they have nothing to be ashamed of, and I also want to stress the importance of educating themselves on how to safeguard their physical and emotional well-being, as well as that of others,” Christian replied.

“If nothing else,” Anastasia added, “I’m hoping for a more open dialogue about sex and relationships in our culture. Those who choose to live a little differently than the rest of the herd shouldn’t be ostracized or degraded. We’re all human; we all deserve respect.”

“What do you think?” Ana asked, trying to read her husband’s expression.

“It’s well-written, and I think she did a good job of telling our story. I just wish there was a way to avoid the whole thing.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I’m not looking forward to it either, but I do think that of all the ways our lifestyle could go public, this is the most preferable. It shapes the initial message in our favor and encourages a mature, tolerant dialogue. I think if we stick to that angle, we can weather whatever comes next.”

Christian closed the laptop and moved it to the nightstand before switching off his bedside lamp. Their bodies came together like magnetic puzzle pieces in the darkness, fitting perfectly against one another. He stroked her hair while her hands caressed his scarred back.

“Are you afraid?” she asked quietly. He sighed, and his arms tightened around her.

“Not as long as I have you.”

Chapter Eighteen

Wednesday December 31, 2014

The week between Christmas and New Year’s passed quietly without incident or drama. Taylor and Welch had finished the vetting process on a dozen new employees for the security and IT departments, and the sharing of the workload had improved everyone’s outlook. Their numerous public appearances as well as Ana’s creation of SHI had done much to bolster GEH’s reputation, and Christian was no longer feeling compelled to work such long hours… at least not for that reason. It would have been easy to throw himself into work rather than contemplate the potential disaster that might follow Elena’s parole hearing, but his wife had firmly vetoed that course of action.

“Better to deal with your feelings about it now so that you’re prepared if the shit hits the fan,” she’d advised him.

Unfortunately, ‘dealing with his feelings’ was far more easily said than done. He’d made his peace with the fact that their lifestyle would soon become public knowledge, though he wasn’t particularly looking forward to renewing his adversarial relationship with the press. They were already lurking in higher numbers than usual due to Ana’s charity work, and it was the first time that their presence didn’t automatically feel like a nuisance. For once, they were covering a story that had the potential to affect real people in a positive way, and neither he nor Ana wanted to discourage it. Christian was afraid that once the focus shifted back to their personal lives, all of that good would be negated.

Christian also didn’t relish the prospect of the world knowing that he’d been the victim of a pedophile. The stares and whispers wouldn’t only come from strangers but from colleagues and employees as well. His reputation in the business world had been built upon an image of strength and confidence, and that image would be challenged in the eyes of many once they knew how damaged he’d been. Christian knew that it was only his own pride that bothered him at this point, since their families had given their full support of the plan. He’d always been a proud man, but this was a situation that would require him to swallow that pride for the sake of others. He was determined that Elena Lincoln wouldn’t be released from prison any time soon, so long as he had the power to do something about it. He wasn’t waffling on his decision to testify, but the certainty of knowing that he was doing the right thing didn’t make facing the public resurrection of his demons any easier.

Unable to use work as a distraction, Christian opted for the only healthy coping mechanism left. He’d made it a point to be inside of his wife at nearly every opportunity, and Ana had no objections to the surge in his libido. They made out like teenagers, they made passionate love, they fucked hard in every room of the penthouse… and still he couldn’t be sated. Ana knew full well that he was using sex as a stress reliever, but she didn’t argue with him over it. At the end of each night, as they sweating and panting next to one another, he would take her in his arms and talk about his day. He didn’t avoid the

subject of Elena or try to brush off Ana’s concerns, and it was that more than anything that convinced her that he was coping well enough under the circumstances.

“You’re sure you don’t want to spend the evening with your family?” Ana asked him on the afternoon of the thirty-first. Grey House had closed early for the day, and they’d both opted to take a little work home with them. They sat side by side on the sofa, he with a laptop and she with a manuscript. “Your mom invited us for dinner, and Mia was really hoping to get a group of people to go to the Mile High afterward.”

“Not a chance, Mrs. Grey. As much as I love my family, being around them can get a little tedious during the holidays. I’m enjoying the break.”

“We haven’t seen them in a week,” she chuckled. “You’ve barely let me out of bed other than to go to work. I’m surprised I’m not walking bow-legged.”

“There’s still time,” Christian grinned, placing his computer on the coffee table. “Tonight is the anniversary of the night I proposed. The night you changed my life forever with one little word. I think the occasion should be marked properly, don’t you?” He slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her into his lap, tossing her manuscript toward the far end of the couch. Ana squirmed eagerly in his arms and kissed his jaw softly.

“What does Sir have in mind?”

“I want you completely at my mercy all night, little girl. I want to use as many toys as you can handle, and when the clock strikes twelve, I want to be balls-deep inside of you while you scream your way through an orgasm. I want to see how many times I can make you come. Think you can make it to midnight?”

He was smirking at her, and she wondered if he could feel the wetness of her core through his pants. His words had her trembling and clenching with need, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

“Challenge accepted, Sir,” she smiled teasingly.

Gail and Taylor went out for the evening, so Ana and Christian were on their own for dinner. They worked together to make chicken stir-fry and dined to the music of a playlist they’d been compiling for the better part of a year. When Ana had eaten as much as she could, she sat back in her chair and grinned at her husband. He was gazing at her with a heat in his eyes that she recognized all too well.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of watching you eat, Mrs. Grey. You have no idea how sexy you are.” Ana snorted and rolled her eyes unthinkingly. He growled playfully, his smile widening. “Careful. I’m not in the mood to punish you tonight, but keep it up and I might just change my mind.”

“Sorry,” she laughed. Ana watched him stand and carry their plates to the sink, admiring the way his muscles played beneath the thin material of his shirt. When he returned to the table, he came to stand behind her and curled his hand delicately around her throat, lowering his voice as he spoke.

“Take fifteen minutes to prepare yourself, and then I want you in the playroom. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Ana was amazed at his unfailing ability to make her wet with little more than his words. They had a lot of sex, even for a newlywed couple. They were constantly exploring new sensations and dreaming up new fantasies to fulfill, and it still took no more than the sound of his Dom voice and a well-placed caress to turn her into a panting pile of mush.

She rose from the table on wobbly legs and smiled flirtatiously as she passed him on her way to the bedroom.

Several hours later, Ana wondered dazedly what time it was. There was no clock in the playroom, but she knew Christian had set an alarm on his phone to alert them midnight drew nearer. She had no idea how long they’d been playing, but she was now seriously beginning to wonder if she did, in fact, have the stamina to continue into the new year. Christian had been watching her carefully and had given her several short breaks, but he’d taken his orgasm challenge very seriously. She tried to remember the number of the last one she’d counted.

Seven… It was at least seven, she thought as she edged slowly toward another release. Ana was in awe of her husband’s physique. He had carried her weight several times from one area of the playroom to another and had held her body steady while he pounded into her with a pace that would have put a god to shame.

He’d cuffed her to the St. Andrews cross first, turning her body so that her backside was presented for his entertainment. She’d been gagged and blindfolded with clamps to both nipples and her clit. He’d started slowly with a heavy flogger, then a thick belt, then a narrow crop, gradually increasing the sting level. Between the growing warmth of her ass and thighs and the maddening touch of his firm hands, Ana had reached her third orgasm before he’d seen fit to move on to other activities.

Christian had then released her from the cross and carried her to the sofa, bending her over the cushioned arm to fuck her hard from behind. Orgasm number four. She’d climaxed a fifth time when he’d pulled the clamp off of her clit abruptly. Next, he’d removed everything but the blindfold and laid her out on the large bed, positioning her so that he could kneel to fasten his lips to her swollen clit. Six. Ana had squealed and nearly climbed up the bed when his tongue had swept lower to brush across her rosebud. It hadn’t been her first experience with that particular sensation, but it had still come as a surprise. When he’d added his finger to the game, she’d known that he was preparing her ass for something more intense, and she’d reached her seventh orgasm with a speed that bordered on embarrassing.

“Doing alright, princess?” he asked, grinning at her as he handed her a bottle of water. Ana gazed up at him through heavy eyes and nodded mutely.

Every nerve in her body was alive, awake, and singing. She felt as though the lightest of touches might cause her to burst into flame or else send her rocketing over the edge yet again. Ana sipped the cool water slowly, working to calm her thundering heart. Christian moved about the room, gathering skeins of rope from the hooks on the walls. When he returned to her side, he was also brandishing the silver anal hook she’d given him for Christmas. She blinked at it a few times, nervous excitement making her pulse escalate again.

“Shall we?” he asked, holding up the metal hook.

“Yes, Sir.”

They both enjoyed rope play, but the unfortunate reality was that it had the potential to take a long time to set up. Christian had become faster and more confident with his rigging over time, but it still took the better part of thirty minutes to achieve his goal. When he’d finished, Ana was bound and suspended horizontally from the ceiling grid, an intricate labyrinth of knotted rope encasing her body. Her arms were folded comfortably at the elbows and crossed behind her back, and her legs were angled slight upward at the knee in a position that Ana had learned was more comfortable than having them folded upward.

Her weight was distributed evenly throughout her torso, hips, and thighs, but she knew Christian still had one more addition to make before the scene was complete. He threaded a thinner, softer length of rope through the keyhole on the long end of the silver hook and connected it to a play collar, which he fastened above her diamond choker.

“Ready, little girl?” Christian asked softly, leaning down to look at her face.

Ana nodded, feeling both eager and anxious for what was to come next. She had long since learned that bondage had a unique effect on her psyche. It had the potential to be uncomfortable after long periods, but it was the sort of discomfort that she could easily tolerate in exchange for the effect it had on her mind. It was strange how submission to such confinement allowed her to feel free. It meant truly letting go of her inhibitions, placing her full and absolute trust in her husband’s hands. She relied on her Dominant to keep every single part of her safe: her body, her heart, her mind, her spirit. She gave him everything, and though her body was bound, her mind was liberated. The sensation was overwhelming, both heavy and uplifting at the same time, and it plunged her brain into subspace as though it were a drug.

She felt him spreading copious amounts of lubricant over her rosebud, testing her readiness with his finger. Ana moaned hungrily, craving more. The cool steel of the metal ball on the end of the hook penetrated her quickly, and she gasped as the hook slipped into place, curving around her tailbone. Christian shortened the length of the rope that connected the hook to the play collar until anything more than a slight movement of her head caused the hook to move as well.

It was an odd sort of pulling sensation, but it was neither painful nor unpleasant. On the contrary, Ana felt herself climbing toward the precipice of another release almost immediately. He circled her once, inspecting her body for signs of discomfort or a need for adjustment of the ropes.

“You should see how stunning you look right now, baby. You’re the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Incredible…”

“Will you take a picture, please, Sir?” Ana whimpered, desperately curious to know what she looked like in this position. If it was anywhere near as hot as it felt, she might just come on the spot. Christian looked at her in surprise.

“Are you sure?” They’d talked about photographing a play session before, but they’d never taken photos of anything this intense and revealing. Her most intimate parts were on full display. Ana nodded reassuringly.

“Yes, Sir. I want to see. You can always delete it afterward.”

Christian grinned and went to retrieve his phone, noting that they had only twenty minutes until midnight. He took photos from multiple angles, admiring her beautiful form. Her ass was still a little pink from the impact play, but he knew there would be no lasting marks. Her braided hair was tousled in a way that almost looked intentional, and her cheeks were flushed with adrenaline. The soft rope encased her curves and framed her breasts, emphasizing every perfect inch of her body. When he’d gotten a few good shots, he lowered the phone so that she could see.

“Wow,” she whispered. He’d been right; she looked hot as hell.

“I’ll say,” he grinned appreciatively.

Christian put his phone aside and went to retrieve another small object from one of the many drawers. Ana couldn’t see what it was, but when his hand found her center and pushed the object inside of her, she recognized it immediately. It was the vibrating egg he’d used to torment her during their very first visit to the playroom, when she’d been bound over the arched bondage table, begging for his permission to come. Ana was relieved that there would be no begging for her release tonight; she doubted she’d have been capable of holding back.

The egg vibrated deep inside of her, sending a buzzing sensation into the metal hook as well, and it was difficult to hold still in spite of the onslaught of pleasure. Every movement, involuntary or otherwise, caused objects within her to shift, urging her toward her climax with the speed of an oncoming locomotive.

“That’s two holes filled, Anastasia. Only one left.”

Ana understood him perfectly, even through the haze of pleasure, and she opened her mouth promptly, craving the taste of him. He eased his length toward the back of her throat and wrapped her long braid around his fist. Ana’s movements were restricted, so Christian set the pace and depth of his thrusts. He’d come twice earlier in the evening, and he knew that the orgasm building within him now would hit him harder than the others.

The alarm on his phone sounded, starting a ten second countdown to midnight. At the six second mark, she broke, her entire body spasming against the ropes that pressed into her skin. A high keening sound came from her throat as he fucked it, and as he watched her climax roll through her from head to toe, his tumbled over the edge with her.

He came with a shout just as the clock struck twelve.

Thursday January 1, 2015

“Thank you, baby,” Christian whispered much later as he tucked Ana into bed.

“For what?” she mumbled sleepily. He smiled, extinguishing the light and wrapping her up in his arms.

“For saying yes a year ago. For becoming my wife. For sharing my life with me.”

“As if I would have said no,” Ana chuckled. “You did have me worried though.”

“Why’s that?”

“You were so nervous! You were acting weird for weeks beforehand, and I didn’t understand what was going on with you. Every time I brought it up, you found a way to avoid me. I actually thought you might have been planning to break up with me.”

“Impossible,” Christian replied, shaking his head at the ridiculous notion. “Any man would be insane or stupid to let you go. I’m neither of those things.”

“I agree,” she smiled into the darkness. “Thank you for asking me. For loving me.”

“I can’t imagine a world where I didn’t love you, Mrs. Grey. You’re the very best part of my life.”

“And you’re the best part of mine.” Ana pressed her lips to his and threaded her fingers through his wavy hair. “Now sleep, husband. You and I both know you won’t be able to keep yourself out of the office tomorrow.”

Christian laughed and squeezed her a little tighter, unable to argue with her assessment. Ana was asleep within moments, her head resting against his chest where his steady heartbeat lulled her into a peaceful slumber. He kissed her forehead, cherishing her intoxicating scent and the familiar weight of her body in his arms.

“Goodnight, Mrs. Grey.”

Wednesday January 7, 2015

“Kate sent us a preview of the spread for the article,” Ana announced as she joined her husband in the kitchen for dinner. Gail greeted her kindly and gave Christian compassionate smile. Their families and personal staff had been briefed on what to expect the following day, when Christian would take the stand and speak against the early release of Elena Lincoln. Everyone in the know seemed to be treading lightly around Christian, and it had begun to irritate him over the past week. He appreciated their empathy, but the awkwardness was making him feel worse.

The only person who wasn’t treating him differently was Ana. She was just as loving, supportive, and kind as she’d always been, and Christian had found himself leaning heavily upon her as he’d come to terms with the changes that were about to take place in their lives. Brett had added his name to the witness list that morning; they were past the point of no return.

“How’s it look?” Christian asked, clearing a space on the breakfast bar for the file folder she was holding. Ana opened it to reveal a full-color spread of the article Kate had written, complete with photographs.

Since they hadn’t wanted to share more private wedding photos, Christian and Ana had agreed to a short photo shoot with one of the Times’ staff reporters. They’d had to go through several wardrobe changes, but the end result was a positive one. They looked happy and in love in each photograph. One of the pictures had an aura of sexiness that the others didn’t quite achieve, and Kate had selected that one for the main image. She’d also included a selfie that Christian had taken on their honeymoon, in which he smiled

into the camera while Ana pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. There were two smaller, artistically framed photos, one of a skein of rope and the other of a flogger.

“Wow,” Ana murmured. “It’s strange to see myself like this. I guess you’re used to it.”

“You will be too. Even without all of this, I know a few publications are clamoring for a more in-depth interview about SHI. You should do it. It might help, with… all of this,” he replied, his voice falling at the end of his sentence as he looked back at the article.

It looked good; he couldn’t deny that. The pictures didn’t make them look anything like the stereotypes that would be thrust upon them by thousands of people by the end of the week. Instead of an abused and downtrodden woman, Ana looked like a light-hearted, playful woman in love. Instead of a domineering, sadistic asshole, Christian looked like a man who was happily wrapped around her finger. They looked like what they truly were.

“I just might,” she smiled, closing the folder and setting it aside. The press had backed off a bit over the past week, and Ana had been grateful for the brief reprieve. She knew they would be back in full force once Kate’s article was published and the outcome of the hearing became public knowledge.

SHI had really taken off, and city officials were estimating that the number of homeless on the inner-city streets each night had been reduced by sixty percent. It was wonderful, but it wasn’t enough. Ana wanted every single person to have a roof over their heads at night. She wanted the Initiative to expand to the suburbs, and perhaps even other cities as well. The only thing inhibiting that progress at this point was church politics, something Ana had yet to really comprehend. She hadn’t grown up in a particularly religious environment, and her family had never been the church-going type. She’d expected to find more generosity amongst those who claimed to live charitable lives, but she’d been a little disappointed thus far. Many of the people from local churches seemed to be the type who would gladly give money but had no desire to actually pitch in and help in more practical ways.

Christian and Ana enjoyed a quiet dinner, discussing the events of the day and the agenda for the next. As they were finishing their plates of grilled salmon and baked potatoes, Christian’s phone rang, and he answered it with a mild tone of irritation, skipping the traditional greeting.

“Brett, you’ve prepped me more than my housekeeper preps a turkey. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. You need to relax.”

Ana snorted at the imagery of his words and took a sip of her wine. When she glanced at her husband, she was surprised by the change in his expression. His previous irritation was gone, and in its place was… nothing. He was impassive, completely blank. She frowned and placed a hand on his arm.

“Thanks. If you can, try to get my name off of the witness list before the records are archived.”

Ana squeezed his arm until he met her gaze, and she made a gesture that demanded an explanation for his words. Christian thanked Brett again and ended the call, his features still impassive, though his complexion was a little paler than it had been five minutes ago.

“Get your name off the list? What’s going on?” After all of his indecision and the progress he’d made toward accepting the consequences of testifying, it now seemed that he had gotten cold feet. Christian seemed to shake himself mentally and focused his eyes on her properly.

“There isn’t going to be a hearing,” he said dazedly. “Elena’s dead.”

Chapter Nineteen

Wednesday January 7, 2015

Several moments of absolute silence followed Christian’s words, during which Ana grappled with the far-reaching implications of the news. Dead. The bitch is dead, she thought. Her husband’s face was still a mask of emptiness, and she reached out to touch his cheek gently.

“What happened? What did Brett say?” she asked, pouring him another glass of wine. Christian took a long drink and a deep breath before answering.

“Apparently she’s been in solitary for most of her sentence. You know, for her own protection. Pedophiles don’t fare too well in the prison system.”

“I was wondering how she’d lasted that long,” Ana muttered.

“Right. Well, I guess they sent her back into general population so that she could meet with her counselor before the hearing, and while she was there, a fight broke out between a few of the other inmates. Elena was in the way and got pulled into the scuffle. By the time the guards were able to break it up, she was dead.”

“Holy shit. Did they figure out who was responsible?” Though Ana was in no way upset over Elena’s death, the news had still stunned her.

“No,” Christian shook his head. “No one is owning up to it, and the security cameras didn’t get a good visual since there were so many people.” He was quiet for a moment before adding, “Call Kate right now and tell her to pull the article. I don’t care what it costs for the short notice. There’s no point in putting a media target on everyone’s backs if Elena is out of the picture.”

While Ana was on the phone with Kate, Christian rose to his feet and began to pace the marble floor slowly. He didn’t know how to feel about the situation. More than anything, he supposed, he felt relief. Relief that he wouldn’t have to see her face ever again, relief that he wouldn’t have to share the story of his trauma with strangers, relief that he wouldn’t have to put his family through the public scrutiny and harassment that would have been caused by his testimony as well as Kate’s article... Elena had deserved what she’d gotten, of that Christian was certain, but he’d spent so much energy talking himself into risking everything he’d worked for that he was now left feeling a bit disjointed. All of the stress seemed to have been for nothing, and now he felt weary in his body as well as his mind.

“Are you alright?” Ana asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned to her and nodded, his head beginning to clear as he gazed into her blue eyes. She walked over to him and slid her arms around his waist. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I don’t… I don’t really know. Relief, more than anything else, but… I’m… happy. I’m glad she’s dead,” he admitted, wrapping his arms around her back. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“Of course not. If it does, then I’m a bad person too. She hurt you, Christian. It took you years to heal from what she did to you, and some of her victims never healed. Someone like that doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as the people they hurt. She got what she deserved.” He could hear the bitterness in her tone and nodded in agreement.

“Frankly, I’m surprised it didn’t happen years ago. I heard she was beat up a few times when she first went to jail, but I guess they put her in solitary after that.”

“She deserved that too. I hope someone made her their bitch and gave her a taste of her own medicine,” Ana said darkly.

Although she hadn’t said as much out loud, Ana had been dreading having to sit in the same room with the woman who had abused her husband. When Christian had first told her of his past the year before, she’d forced herself not to Google the woman’s name. She hadn’t wanted to know what she looked like or what her life had been like before her arrest. Her own imagination had given her plenty to work with, and Ana hadn’t wanted to make it any more real. Now, however, she found she was morbidly curious. She’d imagined that someone with Elena’s previously expensive lifestyle and ability to attract younger men had probably been very beautiful at one time. Ana hoped that prison had taken that from her as well.

“Are you sure just having Kate cancel the article is going to be enough to keep it from going public? Anyone who helped her put it together knows what it involved,” Ana reminded him.

“They all signed NDAs before we gave her the interview so that no one was tempted to sell the story to another media outlet,” Christian replied, sounding more fatigued than he had before Brett’s phone call.

“Good.” She glanced at the clock on the microwave and saw that it was just past seven. “We should let the family know what happened.” Christian groaned.

“I don’t think I have the energy to deal with my family tonight. Would it be wrong to just send a mass text and say we’ll talk about it tomorrow?”

“Not at all. I can do that, if you like. Let’s just spend the rest of the evening doing something simple. Mindless, even. We deserve it, after all of this stress.”

“Sounds perfect,” he smiled down at her gratefully, placing a feather-light kiss to her forehead. “Maybe we can watch a little TV and then take a bath.”

“We could,” Ana agreed, kissing his stubbled jaw.

“And then I think I’d very much like to bury myself inside of you and make you come until you can’t keep your eyes open any longer.” His hand crept down to cup her buttock as he pulled her hips against his more firmly. She moaned softly and felt the wetness growing between her thighs.

“Keep talking like that, and we’ll end up skipping everything but the sex.”

“I doubt you’d be complaining,” Christian chuckled.

No, she thought as he took her hand and led her to the media room. I sure as hell wouldn’t.

Thursday January 22, 2015

“You’ve both worked for me for nearly eight years, and in eight years you’ve never had this much trouble keeping things secure. What the fuck is going on?!” Christian bellowed. Welch and Barney winced as their employer’s voice echoed in the marble interior of his office.

Things had been relatively calm in Christian’s life for nearly two weeks following Elena Lincoln’s death. The axe that had dangled over their heads was gone, and they’d been spared the violation of their privacy they’d been expecting. No one had heard anything from Morton since the flowers and photographs in November, and aside from an increase in Ana’s publicized efforts to bolster SHI, both Christian and Ana had begun to hope that their lives might finally be returning to some semblance of normalcy.

Now as he stood in his office glowering at his heads of IT and security, Christian was once again frustrated with their apparent lack of competence. After the last breach involving his employees’ personal information being stolen, Christian had approved the hiring of additional staff for both Barney’s and Welch’s departments, but it seemed that something or someone was still working against them.

Security systems at Grey House had begun to malfunction at random. There was no discernible pattern, and nothing of consequence had happened during the brief times that the systems had failed completely, but neither Welch nor Barney had yet been able to determine what was causing them.

“Sir, my team is focused on finding the root cause of the issues. It’s likely another worm, but--”

“Like what we had in September?”

“No, sir, this one would be far more sophisticated,” Barney clarified. “And since not all of the security servers are local, there’s a chance that someone at the security company could be involved.”

“We think that the issues in September and October were inside jobs, but every employee has been vetted extensively. We’ve found nothing that could be pinpointed to anyone in particular,” Welch added.

“Fuck,” Christian cursed, pacing in front of the window wall. “Remind me who we’re using for security.”

“Aegis Security. They’ve had the contract since we moved into this building.”

“And at Escala as well, correct?”

“Yes, as well as several other subsidiary buildings, but no malfunction has been reported anywhere else,” Welch explained.

“So does that indicate that this is most likely an inside job too?”

“Probably, sir, but I don’t want to rule anything out at this point,” Barney replied.

“And as far as we can tell, no private files have been compromised?”

“Correct. The alarm system has failed a few times, as you know, and the camera system has malfunctioned in several parts of the building. It seems completely random, and the backup systems do come online eventually, but--”

“And the elevator,” Christian reminded him, interrupting. “The codes for the executive elevator don’t always work, and they’ve had to be reset three times this week.”

“Yes, sir,” Welch acknowledged. “Which is why we’re leaning toward a worm in the system, as there is no evidence of anyone going in to change them manually.”

Christian sighed deeply, doing his best not to shout at his employees again. He knew that they were just as frustrated as he was, and it was clear that they’d been working to find the cause of the issue.

“Alright,” he said after a moment’s contemplation. “Let’s eliminate one of the variables. Barney, have your team focused on finding the worm, if there is one. Welch, I want to see files on at least three new security companies, complete with cost estimates and timeframes for installation. Work with Barney to find a company whose programming is different enough from Aegis that whoever this fucker is will have a hard time adjusting his strategy.”

“I agree that would be best, sir. I’ll do some research and have at least one of the options on your desk by the end of the day,” Welch assured him.

“See that you do,” Christian grumbled, returning to his desk to summon Andrea over the intercom. She confirmed that his next meeting was starting in five minutes, and Welch and Barney took that as their cue to leave.

Friday February 6, 2015

“Any preference for dinner tonight? Gail and Taylor have a date night, so I’m cooking,” Ana smiled, watching her husband shrug into his suit jacket. She reached up to adjust the knot of his tie, which was slightly off center.

“Uh… not really, but I’m not sure what time I’ll be home. It might be late,” Christian replied apologetically.

“Again?”

“I know; I’m sorry. We’re getting everything set up for the switch to the new security system, and it’s taken a lot of people’s focus off of the actual business that we have to do. Ros and I have been swamped for weeks.”

“I know. I just thought that since it’s Friday…” Ana shrugged, not wanting to guilt him. “Maybe I can bring dinner to you in the office?”

“That would be perfect, baby. It won’t be a super late night; I just doubt I’ll be able to get home by dinnertime. Maybe pick up some Thai from that place we like?” he smiled, recalling the last time they’d gotten takeout there. They’d sat naked in bed, talking and taking turns feeding each other.

“Okay,” Ana grinned. “Should I get enough for Ros too?”

“No, she has a wife of her own.” They laughed and headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Gail greeted them warmly and filled their plates with their usual breakfast orders. As they ate, Ana steered the conversation to her own agenda for the day.

“I have another interview with Good Morning, Seattle on Monday. Live this time.”

“Nervous?”

“Maybe a little,” she shrugged. “As long as they don’t try to blindside me with unrelated questions, I’ll be fine.” Christian harrumphed in agreement. A talk radio host who had interviewed Ana the previous week had crossed the line with his questions, preferring to pry into their marriage instead. It was unprofessional to say the least, which was why said radio host was now drawing unemployment. “It’s strange that something like a charity can draw so much media attention,” she added, thinking of the paparazzi that never seemed to give her a moment’s peace.

“I wish it really were the charity, but you know it’s not,” Christian said gently. “It’s you. You’re a fascinating person, and not just because you’re my wife. People listen when you speak, and you have a gift for saying what you mean without putting your foot in your mouth.”

“Thank you,” Ana smiled shyly, still a bit awkward when it came to accepting compliments.

“Make sure security stays with you at the studio. They did a check the first time you were there, but another sweep wouldn’t hurt.”

“I know,” she replied, her weariness with security protocol just barely audible in her tone. “Still nothing conclusive with the security hack?”

“No,” Christian muttered irritably. “Barney thought it was a worm at first, but the security programs themselves are clean.”

“So it’s not someone at the security company behind it.”

“No, inside job. Like last time.” The idea that one of his employees was double-crossing him at every turn made his blood boil. “Barney can tell that whoever is behind it is doing it from within Grey House, but he can’t pinpoint a specific employee. This bastard is covering his tracks well. It’s done from a different terminal each time, which makes the number of logins to sort through and keystrokes to trace even higher. Even when he finds the login responsible for each hack, it’s always a different employee.”

“And those employees have been confronted?”

“Of course, but it’s never the login for the person who usually uses that particular computer. It’s always a new hire. I thought about suspending the hiring temporarily, but most of those who are implicated don’t actually work in the building. They’re new employees for different subsidiaries. I can’t suspend hiring everywhere.”

“True,” Ana agreed, flummoxed by the strange complexity of the situation. “The only common denominator would be HR at GEH.”

“Yup,” he said grimly, popping the P at the end of the word. “They’ve all been interviewed extensively, and when I say ‘interviewed,’ I mean more like interrogated. Neither Welch

or Barney has been able to find anything in their computer activity or their backgrounds that would bring up any red flags.”

“Is changing security companies going to be enough?”

“It’s a start. From what Barney’s explained, Aegis had a pretty standard software protocol. Hard to hack but still possible. Citadel’s protocols are more intricate, and they’ve never had a serious breach in the ten years they’ve been in business.”

“Well, that’s good at least. I’ll be glad when all of this is behind us,” Ana sighed, taking her plate to the sink.

“Tell me about it. I can’t promise that there won’t be any more late nights in the foreseeable future. Implementing a new security system in a building as large as Grey House is a massive undertaking. It’ll probably be several weeks before everything is in place.”

“And then you’ll change the systems here too?”

“Yes, but I want to see how effective it is at work first. Since that’s where the problems have been, that’s where we’ll start.”

“Makes sense,” she nodded.

“That being said, though… I still want someone here with you at all times, especially when you’re alone. I don’t want to take chances.”

Ana smiled walked around the breakfast bar to stand behind him, rubbing his neck in a way that she knew had an instant calming effect on him. The tension eased from his muscles, and he groaned appreciatively.

“I promise to be careful,” she said softly. “You’re way too tense for seven in the morning, Mr. Grey. If we had more time, I might suggest a few things to take care of that.”

Christian growled playfully and spun around to face her, capturing her face between his hands and kissing her hard. Ana opened her mouth to him, immediately submitting to his fervor. By the time he released her, she was breathless and wishing like hell that they could both call off for the day.

“Not fair,” she complained, whining a little.

“It most certainly isn’t,” Christian grinned evilly. He stood to leave just as Taylor and Sawyer came through the door from the staff quarters. “Let’s get going, Mrs. Grey. It’s going to be a very long day, but I’m sure we can make up for it this evening.”

Ana sighed in resignation and gathered her things. Once they were in the SUV, Christian surprised her again by slipping his hand between her legs and under her skirt. His fingertips pushed her already damp panties hard against her clit, and she gasped audibly.

“You’ll want to remove those before you bring dinner later.”

Thursday February 19, 2015

Christian bolted upright in bed, his heart hammering rapidly in his chest. His gray eyes scanned the dark corners of their bedroom but found nothing out of the ordinary. He felt

a lingering confusion in the wake of his nightmare, and he took a moment to slow his breathing and focus on what he knew to be reality. His wife was sleeping soundly beside him, safe and oblivious to the images that had awakened him. Christian brushed his lips over her temple and rose slowly from their bed so as not to wake her. He treaded silently across the room to the balcony and donned his terrycloth robe before slipping outside.

It was as cold as one might expect for a February evening in the Pacific Northwest, but the chill of the air was precisely the jolt he needed to completely clear his mind of the dream. In the seconds that had elapsed since he’d woken, the dream had already begun to slip away from him, for which he was very grateful. He knew that it had been terrifying, and that Ana had been crying and pleading for help. He’d felt an overwhelming sensation of powerlessness and desperation.

Christian supposed that the nightmare was merely due to an elevated stress level and physical fatigue, as had frequently been the cause of his parasomnia before he’d met Ana. Though his nightmares had been consistent in those days, he’d managed to get at least a few hours of sleep each night. The addition of any extra factors like stress, fatigue, or illness, however, and sleep had eluded him altogether. The past few weeks had been almost nothing but stress and weariness, in spite of his wife’s best efforts to alleviate it.

The security system overhaul was underway at Grey House, making the building an even busier place than usual. His busy schedule had been rearranged more than once so that new equipment could be installed in various areas, and there were a great deal more bodies in the hallways than usual. At the time that Christian had selected Aegis for their security needs, they’d been the best in the industry, but unfortunately they had failed to keep up with the rapidly changing field of information technology. Citadel, however, offered the most expensive and highest quality security system on the market to date, and Christian hoped that the switch would put an end to the covert and destructive activities of the hacker.

In spite of the return of his long hours, he had made certain to celebrate Valentine’s Day with his wife in style. Being their first as a married couple, the holiday had held a little more significance for them than it might have otherwise. Before Ana, Christian had always shrugged Valentine’s off as a marketing strategy for greeting card and candy companies, not to mention florists. But then, he’d never been one for romance before Ana either.

They’d gone to dinner at SkyCity, the restaurant that was located inside of the Space Needle. The food had been excellent and the company even more so. They’d teased one another shamelessly throughout dinner, and Christian had made sure they were alone in the elevator on the way down. The ride was only forty-three seconds, but he’d made his wife come in thirty-two. He wasn’t entirely sure how they managed to keep their clothes on for the trip back to Escala, but they hadn’t lasted beyond the foyer once they were out of the elevator.

He’d fucked her into a second orgasm against the foyer wall then carried her to the kitchen for dessert. Christian had laid her out on the granite counter and sucked spoonfuls of gourmet ice cream off of her heated skin as she moaned and twisted against him. He’d pounded into her again on the kitchen counter, bringing about both of their climaxes that time. When he’d lifted her into his arms to carry her to the bedroom, he had only made it

as far as the living room before he’d been compelled to taste her. The evidence of his orgasm had been seeping out of her, and licking her clean had been incredibly erotic. Ana had shattered twice more before they’d finally reached the bedroom, where he’d directed her to lay on her stomach with her legs closed. Christian had filled her again from behind, his weight pressing her into the mattress and muffling her grunts and groans. The angle had made the penetration deep, and when he’d growled the word “mine” into her ear, they’d both been pushed over the threshold of yet another release.

The memory of their Valentine’s activities caused Christian’s cock to stir beneath his robe even as he stood in the cold temperature on the balcony, and he was suddenly desperate for the warmth of his wife and their bed. The after effects of his nightmare had been obliterated, and he crept back into the bedroom as silently as possible. The head of tangled brown hair hadn’t moved, and Christian smiled affectionately in the darkness, wrapping himself around her once his body had warmed beneath the blanket.

Ana had always been, and would always be, the best remedy for his troubled soul.

Friday February 20, 2015

“I thought you’d want to sleep in since you took the day off today,” Christian commented, watching his wife flip the sizzling bacon on the stove.

“No, I wanted to get Mom’s room ready for her so Gail didn’t have to do it before she left for her sister’s.”

He hummed in acknowledgment as he sipped his coffee. Since Carla hadn’t been able to make it for Christmas, she had set aside some time for a visit that weekend. She was coming alone and planned to stay through Sunday, and whether Ana would admit it or not, she was excited at the prospect of spending time with her mother for no other reason than that Carla wanted to be there. There was no obligation stemming from wedding planning or holiday celebrations, and she’d left her well-meaning, albeit boring, husband at home. Gail would be gone for the entire weekend, and Christian was still working overtime at GEH. He was relieved that Ana would have someone to keep her company that weekend while the last of the security tests were run at GEH, which was something he felt he should be present to oversee.

“What time is her flight due?”

“Around ten, but she insisted that it wasn’t necessary to pick her up from the airport. She’s coming straight here with her CPOs.” Ana hadn’t been sure why Carla had kicked up a fuss at Ana’s offer to pick her up, but she hadn’t wanted to argue the point. She’d intended to spend the morning working from home anyway, so the plan had suited her needs.

“Alright. Don’t forget about the security meeting at GEH this afternoon. You don’t need to come, but almost all of the staff will be there. I’m leaving Sawyer and Reynolds with you. Your mother’s CPOs will be coming to the meeting as well so they can give their latest reports in person.”

“That’s fine,” Ana nodded, filling two plates with bacon and scrambled eggs. “We might have a spa day tomorrow, but for today we’re just hanging out here. She wants to do some baking, I think.”

“Then I’ll look forward to dessert tonight,” Christian grinned. She chuckled at his boyish excitement over the promise of sweets and took the empty seat next to him at the breakfast bar.

“Only if you eat your dinner like a good boy,” she snickered.

“Don’t I always?”

“Fair point. Any special requests then?”

“Hmm,” he said with exaggerated contemplation. “Brownies would be nice. Cookies too. Unless you’re feeling really generous and want to spoil your husband with some chocolate cake. That last one you made was amazing.”

“You think so?” Ana laughed, recalling the three-layer Devil’s food cake she’d made a few weeks before.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Grey. Though the fact that I was eating it off of you might be weighing in your favor.”

Christian kissed his wife goodbye a short while later, promising to be home in time for dinner no matter how his workday unfolded. Once he had disappeared into the elevator, Ana retreated to the master bathroom to take a shower. She then tidied the guest room a little, making sure to stock fresh towels and sundries in the attached bathroom before heading back downstairs to work for a few hours. She was so engrossed in the contract she was reading that the sound of her phone startled her, making her laugh at her own jumpiness. Ana smiled at the caller ID before she answered.

“Hi, Mom. Are you on your way?”

“Actually, I’m here, but the code you gave me for the elevator isn’t working. Have you guys changed it since the other day when you texted it to me?”

“No,” Ana frowned in confusion, putting her laptop aside and rising to her feet. “That’s strange. I’ll come down and get you.” Carla promised to wait near the elevator, and Ana ended the call as she slipped her shoes on. Sawyer appeared from the staff quarters just as she was walking toward the elevator.

“My mom just called to say they’re downstairs, but the elevator code isn’t working,” she explained.

“Yeah, the concierge called up to check that they were authorized. I can go meet them if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll be right back.”

“You want me to come with you?” Sawyer asked, and Ana chuckled as she shook her head and stepped into the elevator.

“She has her security with her. I think I’ll be safe for just few minutes in an elevator by myself.”

Sawyer nodded and went back to the security office, no doubt to monitor her movements via the surveillance cameras. Ana reached the ground floor without incident and was momentarily surprised by her mother’s appearance as she greeted her with a warm hug

“Oh, I’m so glad to see you, Sweetheart,” Carla gushed. “You look wonderful, as usual.”

“So do you,” Ana replied, pulling back for a better look at her. “Your hair…”

“Do you like it?” her mother grinned, running her fingers through the honey blonde highlights that added new dimension to her light brown hair. “Winter is dismal even in Georgia. I’m ready for summer, even if it’s just in my hair.”

“It looks great,” Ana laughed. “Though I think a few days here will have you wishing for home again, even if it is winter.”

“You’re probably right,” Carla agreed as they piled into the elevator with her CPOs, Young and Garwood. “It could be worse, though. I went with Bob on one of his business trips to Chicago in January once. The wind there was so cold it made your skin ache even beneath your clothes.”

Once Carla’s things were settled in the guest room, she took a moment to freshen up and then went downstairs to find her daughter in the kitchen. They chatted idly for a little while, and Ana made a couple of sandwiches and salads for their lunch.

“We’ll do something more elaborate for dinner later,” Ana told her, carrying their food to the dining room so they could sit more comfortably. “Do you still want to bake this afternoon?”

“If that’s alright with you. I remember we used to do a lot of baking when you were a little girl. I thought it might be nice.” They smiled at each other and tucked into their lunch.

As the afternoon progressed, they talked about anything and everything, from Carla’s latest finds on Pinterest to the last few books Ana had helped to shepherd through the publication process. They baked a few batches of cookies, filling the penthouse with a scent that Ana had always associated with happy childhood memories.

“Do you have the ingredients to make a cake as well?” Carla asked, scanning the pantry shelves.

“All but eggs, I think. We used the last of them for the cookies. I can send someone out for them; there’s a little grocery store right down the street.” Reynolds volunteered to run to the store, leaving Sawyer to keep an eye on things. Ana thanked him and returned to the kitchen to find her mother washing the cooking utensils they’d used.

“How have you managed to get used to having people around like that all the time?” Carla asked curiously. “It’s been a few months for me, but I still haven’t adjusted.”

“It took me a while, but eventually it just became part of our routine. I don’t really think much of it most days. Have you had any issues with your CPOs?”

“No, they’re both very nice young men. Very polite. I just… It’s exhausting sometimes, and I feel like I don’t really have any privacy anymore. I was actually going to see what you and Christian thought about reassigning them once I go home.”

“Really?” Ana asked in surprise. Carla had been relieved when Christian had hired protection for her back in September.

“Yes, well, we haven’t heard anything from Stephen since November, and I really think that if he was going to do something, he’d have done it by now. Patience isn’t in his repertoire. I still have the protective order for another six or seven months, and since Bob

retired, he’s always home… It just seems like a waste of money to be paying two armed bodyguards to follow me around all the time.”

“You know it doesn’t have anything to do with money,” Ana admonished gently. “No expense would be too high to make sure our families are safe. I get it though. I understand wanting your privacy back. If you feel safe enough without them, then I’ll talk to Christian about it.”

She knew that Christian would probably defer to Carla’s judgment on the matter, and Ana felt momentarily envious of her mother. She knew that asking her husband to scale back her own protection would be a waste of time. She’d learned to put up with it for the sake of his peace of mind, which was more important to her than the perceived loss of her privacy.

“Thank you, Ana. Hopefully we’ve heard the last of Stephen and you can get some relief soon too,” Carla smiled, as though sensing the direction of her daughter’s thoughts. “Let’s talk about something happier. How is your friend doing with her pregnancy? Her name was... Cynthia?”

“Celia,” Ana corrected with a smile. “She’s doing great. She’s due in May, and they decided to be surprised about the sex. I’m planning a baby shower for her next month.”

“That sounds lovely. Have you and Christian given any more thought to starting a family?”

Ana chuckled at the hope in her mother’s voice and shook her head as she pulled the last dozen cookies from the oven. She placed the baking sheet on a trivet to cool and gestured her mother toward the living room so they could be more comfortable, since Reynolds had yet to return with the eggs they would need for Christian’s cake.

“We haven’t talked about it lately, but as far as I know, we’re both still content to wait a little while longer. Things have been so hectic with the security messes at GEH, Morton, Elena, SHI… I’d like to get to a place where we have time to just relax for a while, maybe take a vacation together. We want a little more time alone before we have to share each other with another person.”

“As much as I’d love to hold a grandbaby in my arms, I think you’re approaching the situation wisely,” Carla admitted. “You’re smart to wait until you’re both ready. ...Although, to be fair, no one is ever really ready to be a parent. Nothing can truly prepare you for the overwhelming love you feel when they put that baby in your arms.” Her eyes were unfocused for a moment before she met Ana’s gaze and smiled. “It doesn’t go away either. It doesn’t matter how old your child gets; you’ll always love them just as much as you do when they take their first breath.”

Ana’s eyes watered, and her throat tightened with emotion. She scooted closer to her mother on the couch and wrapped her arms around Carla’s shoulders.

“I love you too, Mom,” she said softly. The two women held each other for another moment, grateful that the awkwardness that had plagued their relationship for so long had vanished.

As they pulled apart, their attention was drawn to the sound of footsteps approaching rapidly from the door to the staff quarters. Sawyer sprinted into the room, his face ashen.

“I need both of you to lock yourselves in the security office right now,” he said urgently, pulling them both to their feet as soon as he reached them. Ana was alarmed at the look of panic on his face. In the year and a half that she’d known him, she’d never seen him panic.

“What’s going on?” She nudged Carla in the direction of the security office, but Ana’s curiosity slowed her down a bit. Her anxiety turned to outright shock as she saw him draw his weapon. “Sawyer?”

“Just go! There’s no time. You have to--”

The rest of his words were interrupted by the opening of the elevator doors, and Sawyer quickly stepped in front of them, obstructing their view and aiming his gun at the two men who stepped out. The smaller of the two was faster and fired a shot at them just as Sawyer squeezed the trigger. Sawyer was hit in the chest, causing his own bullet to miss its target. Carla screamed, and Ana watched in horror as her friend collapsed to the floor. Her eyes snapped back to the intruders who were moving toward them quickly, and her blood ran cold as she recognized their faces.

Stephen Morton and Nicholas Limbrick.

Chapter Twenty

Friday February 20, 2015

Ana dove for Sawyer’s gun, but Limbrick proved faster once again. He kicked the gun away, and it skidded across the marble floor in the opposite direction. Ana scrambled to her feet to get away from him, scooting closer to her mother. He aimed his gun at both women, who were gripping each other’s arms in fear.

“Go sit on the couch. Don’t do anything stupid,” Limbrick ordered, his voice cold despite the smirk on his face.

Carla was crying, staring in disbelief at the face of her ex-husband. Ana’s eyes flickered back and forth between the two men, her mind whirling as she tugged her mother back to the couch they’d vacated only moments before.

Morton had indeed altered his appearance, and had she not been haunted by his face for so long, she might not have recognized him. He was older, cleaner, and better dressed than she’d ever seen him. He’d dyed his hair and shaved his unkempt beard and mustache. There was no mistaking that predatory smile on his face, however. It was the same one he’d worn nearly every time she’d found herself alone with him.

As she huddled on the couch next to her mother, Ana glanced furtively at Sawyer. He hadn’t moved since he’d crumpled to the floor, and a dark red pool of blood was growing steadily larger beneath him. She wasn’t sure if he’d been hit in the chest or the shoulder, and she prayed it was the latter. If he dies because of us… She stopped the thought before it was fully formed.

Did he have time to alert anyone? He must’ve seen them coming up the elevator. Ana knew there was a panic button in the security office, but she was fairly certain that Sawyer hadn’t had time to trigger it. It had been a while since Christian had explained how that system worked, but she knew that the elevator doors were supposed to remain closed when the alarm was activated. Ana covertly patted her pockets for her cell phone and cursed inwardly when she recalled that she’d left it in the kitchen.

“Do you have your phone?” she whispered so low that only Carla could hear. Her mother shook her head, still staring at Morton through a haze of tears.

“Go make sure both elevators are turned off,” Limbrick told Morton. “I gave you the instructions. Then make sure both fire escapes are blocked.”

To Ana’s surprise, Morton did as he was told with little more than an irritated grunt. So Limpdick is the brains of this operation, she surmised. How the hell do they know where the fire escapes are and how to disable the elevators? She watched Morton amble off toward the security office, and she hoped that he would be stupid enough to activate the alarm somehow. When he disappeared, her eyes went back to Limbrick, unobtrusively looking for any exploitable opening or weakness.

They were even in numbers but not in size or skill. So far as Ana was aware, Carla didn’t have any self-defense training, and there was no way Ana could take both men on alone. Not when one of them is holding a loaded gun. Fuck. She forced herself to take a deep breath and push through her fear. Play along, Ana. Figure out what they want and then negotiate.

“You clearly have a plan, Nicholas,” Ana said, using his first name in the hopes of building a rapport. “Why don’t you just tell me what it is you want?”

“I always have a plan, Mrs. Grey,” he sneered, his gun still aimed at the two women. Carla was gripping her hand so tightly that Ana had to shake her off a little. If the opportunity arose, she would need the full function of her hand. Instead, she wrapped an arm around Carla’s lower back and moved her hand soothingly, feeling her mother’s heart pounding through her ribcage.

“I know who he is, but I don’t know who he is to you. How do you know each other?”

“We’ll get to that. Maybe. For now, you can shut the fuck up.” Limbrick’s eyes were cold and almost completely devoid of emotion. The hand that held the gun didn’t tremble, even as his index finger caressed the trigger.

Ana’s gaze flickered again to Sawyer, who was still unconscious and unmoving on the marble floor. She tried to discern any movement of his chest that might indicate he was still breathing, but he was too far away to be sure. Sawyer’s gun had slid beneath an end table when Limbrick had kicked it out of her reach, and Ana forced herself not to look at it for more than a second. She didn’t know why neither of the intruders had retrieved it, but with any luck, they would forget its existence until Ana could find a way to pick it up herself.

“It’s done,” Morton announced as he returned with a victorious smile on his face. His gaze settled upon Carla, and his expression became a shade more sinister. “It’s good to see you again, Carla. You look even better than the last time I saw you.”

Carla trembled and swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. She moved to curl an arm protectively around her daughter’s shoulders.

“Not as good as you though,” he continued, his eyes shifting to Ana. His expression darkened with lust, and he actually licked his lips as he surveyed her body. Ana shuddered but glared at him, doing her best to keep her fear below the surface.

“What the fuck do you want?” she asked them again, her tone sharper this time. Morton laughed cruelly, but it was Limbrick who answered.

“I want what I’m due. But first, we’ll need you to call your husband. I’d just as soon he not have this number, and he probably wouldn’t answer a blocked call. Where’s your phone?”

“On the counter in the kitchen.”

He nodded at Morton, who grunted irritably again but retrieved the phone without a word. He came much closer than either Ana or Carla would have liked to give it to her, staring hungrily at Ana as he handed it to her with exaggerated slowness. He didn’t move more than a step away from them, preventing Ana from attempting anything covert with the phone. Limbrick kept the gun trained directly at her head as she located Christian’s name in her list of favorite contacts, willing her hands to remain steady.

“Here’s what you tell him…”

Christian frowned as he listened to his security staff give their reports at that afternoon’s briefing. The new security system at Grey House had been fully operational for one week, and so far things seemed to be going smoothly. There had been one or two minor hiccups in the process, but overall, the majority of his expectations had been met. What concerned him was the lack of information on the cause of the system failures that had led to the changes in the first place. The hacks had stopped, but no one had been able to find sufficient evidence to trace them to any one person.

“Along with the software security, every computer terminal in Grey House has been updated with a program that will allow us to record and monitor every keystroke. Considering the volume of information that will entail, it will primarily be used to identify a hacker after the fact. We don’t have the manpower to monitor everyone in real time, but if this person crosses the line again, we’ll be able to find them,” Barney explained.

“What about remote logins? That’s why you weren’t able to find the person behind it last time, correct? If he’d been circulating around the offices on different computers, we’d have been able to see him on the security feeds,” Christian surmised.

“Correct, sir. From now on, however--”

Barney’s words were interrupted by the sound of Christian’s cell phone, and he fell silent when his boss held up a finger and accepted the call. Most of the men in the room recognized the ringtone Christian had designated for his wife. Those who didn’t could discern the identity of the caller by the smile on his face.

“Hey, Beautiful. I’m in a meeting; can I call you back?”

“Christian?” Her voice was trembling and thick with anxiety, and he sat up straighter in his chair, his heart rate quickly gaining speed.

“Ana? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m at home with Mom, but we have… company.” She emphasized the word company in a way that made it clear that whoever was with her was unwelcome. Christian activated the speakerphone and stood immediately, his instincts moving his feet quickly as he headed for the door, waving for his staff to follow him.

“Who’s there? Where are Sawyer and Reynolds?”

“Reynolds left to pick something up, and Sawyer…” Ana faltered, glancing in the direction of the man still lying on the floor.

“Who’s with you, Anastasia?” Christian pressed as he reached the elevator and stepped inside, whispering an instruction to Taylor to start sending men to Escala.

“Morton… and Nicholas Limbrick. Sawyer’s been shot. I can’t tell if…” Her voice shook again, and she couldn’t bring herself to speculate on her friend’s condition.

Christian’s blood ran cold at the sound of Morton’s name, but he was just as stunned to hear the name of his employee spoken in the same sentence. And they have a gun. An ache of panic expanded in his chest as the blood seemed to rush in his ears. He struggled

to keep his voice calm and steady as Taylor spoke rapidly into his own cell, presumably to Reynolds.

“Baby, I need you to take a deep breath for me, alright? Stay calm and just hold on, Ana. I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything to provoke them; just stand down. I’m on my way.”

“Okay. I love you so much, Christian. My life is better because you’re in it.” Christian could hear the tears she was fighting to suppress, and another wave of panicked anger surged through him as he willed the elevator to move faster.

“I love you too, but don’t you dare say goodbye. You hang on tight, baby. I’m coming.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “They want to talk to you.” Limbrick’s voice came over the line before Christian could say another word, sounding slightly altered in a way that made Christian suspect the speakerphone had been activated on the other end.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Grey,” Limbrick greeted him with cool arrogance.

“What the fuck is going on???” Christian shouted into the phone, angered even further by the sound of Limbrick’s laughing response.

“‘What’s going on’ is me… standing in your pretty penthouse… holding a gun to your pretty wife’s head.”

“You son of a bitch! Get the fuck away from--”

“Ah, ah, now… I’ll be the one making the demands from now on, but let me assure you… this won’t end well if you don’t cooperate.” Limbrick’s voice took on a taunting, sing-song quality, and Christian barely repressed the urge to chuck his phone into the nearest wall. He was running now, his fleet of CPOs flanking him, and they were nearly to the SUV.

“Get on with it then,” Christian growled.

“One billion dollars. Wired to an offshore account. My brother is texting the account information to you as we speak.”

Brother?!? What the fuck?! He could hear a faint gasp over the speakerphone and knew that his wife was stunned by the information as well, but Limbrick continued without pause.

“Once the wire transfer is complete and verified, I want a helicopter on the roof with a pilot who will take Stephen and I across the Canadian border. Where we go from there is none of your concern. You would be wise not to involve the police. Unless you want to come home to three dead bodies rather than just one. I do hope you weren’t particularly fond of Mr. Sawyer,” he chuckled coldly.

“Done,” Christian said quickly. “But if I find one hair out of place on my wife’s head, you’ll regret the day you were born.” Limbrick laughed again, clearly unfazed by the threat.

“One more thing. That billion dollars only pays for one of their lives. So which will it be? The mother or the daughter? Call this number when the transfer is complete.”

Christian’s shout of outrage went unheard by anyone but the other occupants of the SUV as Limbrick ended the call abruptly. Taylor was the first to speak.

“Sir, regardless of what he said, we need to call the police. This is a high-risk hostage situation. If they’ve managed to lock things down, we’ll need a SWAT team to get in.”

“And what if he sees the cops outside and just starts shooting, Taylor? What then?” Christian demanded, unable to control the volume of his voice through the haze of panic.

“I can’t promise that won’t happen, Christian,” Taylor replied solemnly, startling his boss with the use of his given name. “But the odds will be much higher in our favor if we use every resource available, and that means calling the authorities. We’ve trained for this, but there is only so much we can do on our own.”

Christian took a deep, stuttering breath and squeezed his eyes shut, praying that he was doing the right thing.

“Call them.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Ana watched as Limbrick handed the gun to Morton and strolled toward the security office with a confidence that infuriated her. Once again, it was clear that they’d gotten the layout of the place ahead of time, and Ana wondered how they’d managed it. Limbrick aimed an idle kick at Sawyer’s leg as he passed, and Ana was relieved to hear her friend groan in response.

Morton grinned sadistically at both women and sat down across from them on the opposite sofa, keeping the gun trained on Ana. In some far-removed corner of her mind, she wondered why neither he nor Limbrick considered Carla a threat. For the most part, the gun had been aimed solely at her. She spared a quick glance in her mother’s direction and saw that silent tears were flowing over her cheeks. Ana drew herself up a little and fought to keep a stronger grip on her own emotions. The Morton she’d known all those years ago had fed on fear, and she was determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how frightened she truly was.

“I imagine you’re both pretty confused right now,” he said, his tone somewhat bored in spite of the arrogant smile on his face. Ana’s eyes glinted slightly as she seized the opportunity for information.

“Brother?” she asked flatly, repressing a shudder when his grin widened proudly.

“Bet you didn’t see that one coming, huh? The first thing I did when I got out of jail was track down my birth mother. All I had was a name and an old picture. Since everyone else in my family is dead, I was surprised she was still alive. Although,” he snorted tactlessly, “I guess that term is debatable since she was so riddled with cancer that she couldn’t even speak. She gave me the name of someone I could talk to though. A half-brother I didn’t even know existed.”

“Nicholas,” Ana nodded, her eyes fixed once again on the gun so that she could avoid looking at his face.

“Yup. The more we talked, the more we realized that our mother wasn’t the only thing we had in common. Turns out my former step-daughter was married to his boss. And Nicholas had quite a bone to pick with your husband. He’d been sabotaging all sorts of things right under Grey’s nose for months, and no one ever traced it back to him.”

Ana heard what sounded like a hint of fraternal pride in Morton’s voice, and Limbrick’s cold laughter soon followed it as the latter reentered the room.

“It’s true,” Limbrick sneered. “Grey’s had it coming for a long time. Too long. He’s finally getting exactly what he deserves.” He took the gun back from Morton and checked Ana’s phone for missed calls or texts. Ana focused on keeping them talking, half listening and half strategizing as their story unfolded.

“What do you have against Christian?”

“I knew him at Harvard. I’d never seen such a pompous ass, and that’s saying a lot when you look at the kind of people I grew up around. He was so full of himself, and everyone was always kissing his ass. Other students, even teachers. Grey got all of the fucking praise, regardless of whether the work was his or not.”

“What do you mean?” she encouraged, avoiding Morton’s gaze which had once again fixated hungrily on her body. Every so often, his eyes would flicker to Carla, but they showed only hatred for his ex-wife.

“We should have been friends,” Limbrick scoffed. “We both came from money, we were both pursuing similar degrees, we were both brilliant… But Grey was a self-absorbed asshole even then. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he hadn’t used my ideas to build his business model.” Ana’s surprise must have shown in her expression, because he nodded and leaned forward as if preparing to impart some great revelation. “That’s right. Your perfect husband’s empire was built on a lie.

“We had one class together our freshman year, and we were assigned to work on one of the projects in pairs. Halfway through, I got called home for a week because my mother had just been diagnosed. When I got back, the project had already been turned in, and my name was nowhere on it. He stole my ideas and passed them off as his own,” he growled bitterly. “And then he used that business model to become a fucking billionaire.”

“I thought it was Ros who hired you last year,” Ana frowned, thoroughly confused. “Christian didn’t know you before that.”

“Oh, he certainly did,” Limbrick said with open disdain. “He was just too full of himself to remember the name or the face of the kid he got his ideas from. I filed an accusation of cheating with the university, but they just dismissed it.”

“Why didn’t you just make a business plan of your own and start a company too?” The question left her mouth of its own accord, in spite of her husband’s warning not to provoke them. She instantly regretted pressing the matter as she watched Limbrick’s face darken further with anger. The gun in his hand wavered as his hand twitched.

“Because I couldn’t just drop out of Harvard like Grey. I couldn’t get the startup money since everything my father could spare was going toward my mother’s healthcare.”

“I’m sorry,” Ana said softly, hoping to soothe his anger.

Her empathy was largely pretense. In spite of their shared experience of having seriously ill parents, it was impossible to feel any real sympathy for a man who was pointing a gun at her head. She didn’t believe for one second that Christian had misappropriated Limbrick’s ideas. It simply wasn’t in her husband’s nature to do so. His pride in having worked to build his company on his own merits played a significant role in making him

the man he was. Ana kept that reasoning to herself, however, having no desire to anger Limbrick further.

Still more questions burned in her mind as Limbrick uttered a noise of disgruntled frustration and made a show of checking that his gun was loaded. She wanted to ask how he had managed to pull off the security breaches without anyone having traced his activities back to him. He was either much better at manipulating computers than anyone had realized, or else he was an exceptional actor. Perhaps both, Ana conceded silently.

As the four of them waited a few minutes in silence for the phone to ring, she found herself replaying every interaction she could recall having with Limbrick. The restaurant in New York was the most memorable, but even then, he hadn’t given her the impression that he was anything more than socially inappropriate. There had been no overt or underlying malice in his words or actions. Limbrick had apparently waited a good six months into his employment to start any sort of sabotage at GEH, and he’d done a good job of lulling them into a false sense of security more than once since then. The incidents had been separated by weeks, if not months, and the tactics had been different each time. He’d covered his tracks exceptionally well.

Ana’s eyes moved repeatedly back and forth between the two men on the couch and the one still lying in a pool of his own blood. Her head was starting to ache from the prolonged elevation of her blood pressure, and her mind replayed the words Limbrick had said to her husband over the phone.

That billion dollars only pays for one life.

Chapter Twenty-One

Friday February 20, 2015

It took surprisingly little time for the Seattle Police Department to respond to Christian’s call. He supposed that when people like him found themselves in this sort of situation, things just moved more quickly. His fleet of SUVs and nearly all of his security staff were surrounding the entrances of the building. A dozen police vehicles filled the streets as well, blocking and redirecting the traffic as they waited for hostage negotiators from the FBI Seattle field office and a SWAT team. The money Limbrick had demanded was being wired to the offshore account, and the transfer would be completed soon. Christian was still in a state of high panic, in spite of Taylor’s best efforts to keep him calm.

“What’s the word on Charlie Tango?” Christian demanded, addressing no one in particular. Mathison spoke up from a few feet away.

“We’re arranging to have it flown from the hangar, sir. They’re having a hard time finding a pilot who is willing to get involved. Apparently the story has already hit the wires.”

“Then get a cop to do it, or someone from the FBI. They’re obligated to help,” he shouted.

“That’s what we’re working on, sir,” Mathison assured him.

“We have confirmation that both the residential and service elevators have been shut down,” Taylor announced. “The emergency stairwells and fire escapes have been blocked as well.”

“Can we hack into the camera feed?”

“Negative, sir. The surveillance system went offline a few minutes ago.”

“Fuck!” Christian screamed in frustration, not caring who heard him. “How the hell are we supposed to know if either of them are even still alive? He said Sawyer was dead, so they clearly have no problem committing murder!”

A wave of dizziness made his head spin, and his vision went black for a moment. He clutched the hood of the SUV for support, vaguely registering Taylor’s reply.

“Sir, you’ve got to stay calm. Your blood pressure is probably skyrocketing, and your dizziness will only get worse. Why don’t you sit d--”

“I’m not going to fucking sit down, Taylor. My wife and her mother are alone in my apartment with a sadistic fucking pedophile and a guy who clearly has some kind of score to settle with me. How the fuck am I supposed to calm down?!”

Before Taylor could respond, Christian’s phone beeped with the alert that the transfer of funds had been completed. He took a screenshot and sent it to Ana’s phone, pressing the ‘Call’ button immediately after.

Upstairs in the penthouse, the music of Christian’s ringtone broke the silence, but it was Morton who answered this time.

“Why hello, Mr. Grey. I must say, it’s nice to finally speak to you after having spent so long watching from the sidelines. Well, watching Anastasia, I should say. She’s grown up quite nicely, but you should have seen her at sixteen. Mmmm…” He licked his lips as his eyes moved up and down her body.

“You’ve got your money, you twisted fuck. Stay the hell away from my wife.” Christian was shouting loud enough for Ana to hear even without the benefit of the speakerphone, which Limbrick activated only a moment later when he traded Morton his gun for the cell phone.

“I appreciate the photo you sent, Grey, but as you might imagine, I don’t quite trust your integrity. One moment while I check the account for myself,” Limbrick told him, his previous anger now contained as his cold demeanor returned to take its place. He pulled out his own phone, apparently logging into the bank’s website to check for the deposit. After another moment, he nodded at his brother. “Well done, Grey. And the chopper?”

“It’s on its way.”

“Looks like you’re capable of following orders,” Morton taunted. “Now the question is… whose life did you pay for? I suppose you’ll do the predictable thing and choose your wife. Can’t say I blame you.”

“You don’t have to kill anyone else,” Christian argued, his voice pleading in spite of his anger. “You’ve got your money, and soon you’ll have a way out. But I swear on everything I own that if you hurt either of them, I won’t rest until you’re both dead.”

“You’re really not in a position to make threats,” Morton replied, turning to address Ana and Carla and waving the gun back and forth between them. “Both of you get up and go stand against that wall. Move!”

Both women stood somewhat unsteadily and moved to stand in front of the wall that separated the dining room from the living room. They held each other tightly, and Ana’s gaze moved involuntarily to Sawyer and the gun that was still lying beneath one of the end tables. She was closer to it now but not close enough to reach it before Morton or Limbrick. Ana wasn’t entirely sure that they wouldn’t shoot her for trying.

“No!” Christian shouted through the phone. “You don’t need to hurt anyone else!”

“You know, I think you might be onto something, Grey,” Limbrick said, his tone simultaneously lazy and mocking. “Maybe there’s no need for anyone else to die today. We can release one and sell the other. I’m betting someone out there would pay handsomely for your wife, don’t you think? Assuming there’s anything left of her after Stephen and I have our fill.”

“Oh, God…” Carla whimpered.

“Fuck off,” Ana growled.

“Keep your fucking hands off her, motherfucker!” Christian screamed, the speaker crackling a little with the volume of his voice. Limbrick laughed his cold laugh once again.

“Get the chopper here, Grey. Time is running out.”

After Limbrick ended the call, Christian surrendered his phone to Taylor immediately for fear that he might actually smash the thing into the pavement. He grabbed fistfuls of his wavy hair and bowed his head against the images that filled his mind. He didn’t want to imagine the scenario that Limbrick had suggested, but his brain was too fried with anxiety to push the thoughts away entirely.

“Sir, the leaders of the SWAT and HRT teams need to speak to you. It sounds like they may have a plan to get in. Charlie Tango will be inbound shortly,” Mathison explained.

Taylor placed a cautious hand on his boss’s upper arm, hoping to steady him a little. Christian seemed to pull himself together and nodded in acknowledgment, turning to face the two men who were approaching them. They were dressed for combat, down to their bulletproof vests, helmets, and semi-automatic rifles. His heart felt heavy as he realized just how necessary that was.

“Gentlemen,” he said in a hollow sort of voice.

“Mr. Grey,” the nodded in return. They introduced themselves, but Christian forgot their names as soon as they’d uttered them, focusing instead on their next words. “With your permission, we’d like to intercept your helicopter a few blocks away, load as many of our men into it as possible, and land on the roof. They’ve requested the chopper, so the sound of the rotors won’t come as a surprise to them. We can rappel down the outside of the building fairly easily since your apartment is on the top floor. Unfortunately, we’ve confirmed that the fire escapes are blocked from the inside, as are the stairwells. We can break a window, but we’ll lose the element of surprise.”

“What about a balcony?” Christian pressed.

“It might be easier to break in that way, though I still couldn’t guarantee that they wouldn’t hear it,” the shorter of the two men replied.

Christian began to pace for a moment, mentally evaluating the four balconies on the penthouse level. Two were in the staff quarters, which might be far enough removed from the scene so as not to alert Limbrick and Morton to the presence of a rescue squad. One is off the living room, he thought, and the other is…

“The master bedroom has a balcony. It’s the one on the east-facing side of the building. I was just out there last night, and I’m almost positive that I didn’t lock the door when I came back in. That’s your best bet.”

His chest ached sharply again as he recalled waking up from a nightmare in the wee hours of that morning. The fresh air had helped to clear his mind, but the real cure had been Ana. The image of his sweet wife sleeping safely in their bed flickered behind his eyelids, and he wondered with a pang if he would ever see her that way again.

“Very good, sir. I’ll give the order to have your helicopter intercepted. Thank you.” Christian nodded in response, the words of his own thanks suddenly trapped in his throat.

Unshed tears stung his eyes, and it was all he could do not to give in to his fear and break down right there in the street. The SWAT leader walked away to see to arrangements for loading Charlie Tango, but the HRT leader remained behind, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Sir, if I may… I overheard part of the phone call you finished a moment ago. If or when one of the subjects calls again, please allow me to guide you through the communication process. That’s part of my expertise, and sometimes communication with the subjects is what makes a rescue mission a success or a failure.”

“What else was I supposed to say?” Christian asked, angry and desperate. “The bastard was telling me that he and his sadistic brother are going to take turns raping my wife before they sell her to the highest bidder. How the fuck am I supposed to respond to that?!”

“I understand your anger, Mr. Grey, and I don’t fault you for it. I can help you next time. The key is to remain calm. The best outcomes happen when those on both sides of the situation stay calm and rational.”

Christian cursed under his breath but nodded his agreement to ask for help with the next call. The HRT leader thanked him and returned to his team, who were in the preparing to leave for the public helipad a few blocks away.

Christian was beset by another wave of dizziness and nausea so intense that he actually crouched on the ground and put his head between his knees. The tears spilled over his cheeks against his will, and a sob rose in his chest. His mind replayed their affectionate teasing before he’d left for work that morning, and the thought of Ana’s flirtatious grin shook him to his core.

What if that was the last time I’ll ever see that smile?

Ana watched as Limbrick paced to the window and scanned the surrounding sky. She assumed that he was watching for signs of the helicopter they’d demanded, and Ana wondered how Christian would fulfill that particular request. The simplest solution would be to send Charlie Tango, but she knew that he didn’t keep it on standby when it was housed at the private hangar. Doing the pre-flight checks would take a little extra time. Ana craned her neck in the hopes of being able to read one of the clocks in the kitchen, but it was too far away to see.

How long have they been here? she wondered. Time seemed to be moving both quickly and slowly somehow. Her head was aching from the steady flow of adrenaline, but she’d stopped trembling. Her eyes took in every minute detail of the two men who were now bickering with one another over their eventual destination. They were discussing which countries lacked extradition treaties with the US, but they didn’t seem to have settled on their endgame. What concerned her most was that they were talking about it right in front of her and her mother.

Does that mean they’re not planning to let us live to tell about it? The thought made Ana’s pulse quicken once again, and she clenched her jaw in determination as her mind shifted into overdrive. She had to change the status quo. Right now, Limbrick and Morton had all of the power; they had the gun. Her eyes darted again to the gun beneath the end table. Could I reach it while they’re distracted? Would Morton shoot me for even trying? No... They don’t have their helicopter yet, so they need me alive.

Carla followed her gaze and nudged her, her eyes screaming as she shook her head covertly. Ana tried to communicate silently that she had to do something. If Limbrick and

Morton were planning to kill them anyway before they escaped, then this might be their only shot. I need that gun.

Ana watched their captors intently, waiting for the perfect moment. It didn’t take long. Morton still had the gun pointed at them, but he turned his head briefly to talk to his brother, who was still looking out the window and attempting to see the street below in spite of the fact that the balcony was obstructing his view. She took advantage of the opportunity and raced toward Sawyer’s gun. Yes! she thought as her fingers curled around the grip.

Her momentary triumph was brief, however. As she scrambled to her feet and back to the wall where her mother stood, she felt a large hand clamp down on her shoulder and spin her around. Ana had only a glimpse of Morton’s enraged expression before he struck her hard in the face with his gun.

Ana crumpled to the floor, dropping Sawyer’s gun, and her cheek and temple throbbed painfully as she tried to maintain consciousness. The cool marble beneath her was unforgiving, sending a different sort of pain through her knees and hips as they made impact. The man looming over her sneered and lifted his arm slowly. For a moment, the only thing her eyes could focus on was the shiny black gun barrel that was pointed at her forehead.

A cold wave of adrenaline swept through her body, numbing the pain but sharpening her other senses. She only had a second or two to consider the imminent possibility of her own death, however, before her line of sight was blocked by a familiar head of honey-blonde hair.

“Kill me instead,” Carla pled through her terrified sobs. “Please, let her go. Your problem is with me, and his is with Christian,” she insisted, gesturing toward Limbrick, who had moved quickly to his brother’s side. “Ana is innocent. Just let her go.”

“That little whore has never been innocent. Not when she was sixteen, and certainly not now. But whatever,” he grinned maniacally. “I don’t mind killing you both. Sounds like a good, clean break, in my opinion.”

“Wait,” Limbrick argued, placing his hand on his brother’s arm. “We need that chopper first. We can kill the mother on the way out, but the bitch is coming with us.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the sound of whirling helicopter blades reached their ears. Ana struggled to focus on the conversation, but her pain made the voices sound muffled and distant. Her vision blurred sickeningly, and she felt Limbrick’s hand wrapping itself around her bicep, attempting to yank her to her feet.

“Looks like our time together is at an end,” he sneered. “Except for you, Mrs. Grey. We’re going on a little trip. I think a little extra insurance would be wise, don’t you?”

“She’ll slow us down,” Morton argued, turning the gun on Ana once again. “Better to end it now.”

“No!” Carla screamed, attempting to pry her daughter from Limbrick’s hand and block Morton’s shot at the same time.

Their momentary struggle was interrupted by the deafening sound of gunfire. Multiple shots were being fired, the bullets colliding with the marble interior as the shooters

shouted back and forth at one another. It was difficult to make sense of anything, and Ana felt as though someone had filled her ears with cotton and put wax paper over her eyes.

Swift and searing as a bolt of lightning, a flash of pain ripped through her right thigh, and she screamed in shock. Carla collapsed against her at the same moment, and Ana quickly realized that she hadn’t been the only one injured. She tried to pull her mother out of the way of the gunshots, leaving a smear of crimson on the dark marble until they were huddled against the wall.

Ana squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed into her mother’s soft, blonde hair, waiting for the bullet that would end it all. The chaos ended as abruptly as it had erupted, however, and when she opened her eyes, her vision had cleared enough that she recognized the presence of many more people in the room. They were all dressed in black and carrying rifles.

“Ma’am? Are you injured?” one asked as he crouched on the floor next to her. Ana groaned beneath her mother’s weight and nodded, still feeling dazed.

“Just my leg. Help her first. And Sawyer…” She pointed to where he lay a dozen feet away from them. “They shot him when they first came in. Where are they?” Ana asked belatedly, scanning the room for their captors.

“Both dead, ma’am. This is your mother?” he verified. Ana nodded mutely. “We’ve called down for the paramedics, but the elevators are off. Do you know how to turn them back on?”

“No, but… someone on the security staff will. Where’s my husband?”

“He’s downstairs. Just sit tight, okay?”

Ana held Carla’s unconscious body against her, following the man’s instructions not to move her until the EMTs arrived. Her leg was on fire, but she pushed the pain away as she watched the SWAT team secure the apartment and check Sawyer for a pulse. She felt a surge of relief when they confirmed that he was, in fact, still alive. Her eyes settled upon two other bodies that lay prone on the marble floor.

Their eyes were open and unmoving.

Christian rushed for the building’s entrance when he heard the call for paramedics over the radio, but there were multiple sets of hands restraining him.

“Get the fuck off of me! I need to get up there!” he screamed, pushing them away.

“Sir, we need to let the EMTs do their jobs.” Christian glared at the uniformed cop who had spoken, and the man shrank a little in response. Taylor was quick to intervene, directing his response over the cop’s head to the FBI Agent in charge.

“Mr. Grey owns the building and will be going up with the paramedics. What’s the status on Mrs. Grey? Have they turned the elevators back on?”

“Mrs. Grey is injured but conscious--”

“Injured how?” Christian demanded frantically.

“Sorry, I don’t have the details yet, sir, but she’s awake and talking. Her mother and the CPO who was with them both suffered gunshot wounds, but they are both alive. Mrs. Grey said someone on the security staff would know how to resolve the elevator issue…?”

“I can help with that. Get me on the phone with someone up there; I’ll walk them through it,” Taylor replied. The agent nodded and retrieved his cell from his pocket while Taylor returned his attention to his boss for a moment. “She’s okay, sir. We’ll get you up there in just a few minutes.”

“They hurt her,” he growled back. “They’d better be dead, because if not, they sure as fuck will be when I get my hands on them.”

“They’re dead. I heard over the radio that both targets were eliminated. It’s over.”

Christian inhaled shakily and closed his eyes, trying and failing to calm himself. He was glad Limbrick and Morton were dead, but he wouldn’t be able to relax until his wife was back in his arms where she belonged… until he could see with his own eyes that she would be ok. His stomach was a pit of anxiety as he watched Taylor talk someone upstairs through the process of restoring power to the elevator. The moment Taylor gave him the nod, he was racing through the glass door and into the lobby, cramming himself into an elevator with the first pair of EMTs and their stretcher. Taylor shouted that he would follow with the next pair.

The thirty-story trip to the penthouse had never felt so slow. He watched the numbers tick upward at an agonizing pace, bouncing on the balls of his feet until the moment the doors slid open. His eyes found her immediately, as though drawn by some magnetic force. His once-pristine penthouse was in shambles, riddled with bullet holes and shattered marble, but he saw none of it.

“Ana?!” he shouted, drawing her attention away from the HRT agent who was questioning her. Her expression transformed into one of acute relief, and she held her free arm out to him.

“Christian! I’m okay,” she sobbed as he reached her. He pressed rapid kisses all over her bruised face and frantically looked her over. His eyes darkened dangerously when they fell upon her right leg.

“Someone help her!” He turned to search for the EMTs, but they were already occupied with Sawyer.

“No, Sawyer and my mom need help first. Morton shot her. I think the bullet must have gone through her and then into my leg.” Ana groaned as he gently assessed the wound site. Her adrenaline levels were beginning to stabilize, and with that came more pain.

The second pair of EMTs came through the door to the staff quarters, and Christian realized that they must have taken the service elevator. He beckoned them in the right direction and stood back for a moment while they saw to Carla. She was unconscious but had a steady pulse. The bullet had pierced her abdomen and exited through her lower back before lodging itself in Ana’s leg. Once the medics had moved her to a stretcher, Christian rushed forward again to gather his wife in his arms. She squeezed back as tightly as she could and wept into his shoulder.

Christian held her for a few moments before leaning back on his heels to look at her again. Ana’s complexion had paled considerably, and her eyes were somewhat glazed. His gaze fell to her leg, and he cursed loudly before removing his shirt. He folded it clumsily and pressed it to the wound, wincing apologetically when she whimpered in pain. She was bleeding heavily, and Christian recalled that there was at least one major artery in the thigh. He glanced around for the paramedics, but they were all focused on treating Carla and Sawyer.

“Hey, I think she’s bleeding too much! What do I do?!” One of the EMTs working on Carla leaned toward them to get a better look.

“Take off your belt and tie it around her leg above the wound. Pull it tight, and keep pressure on the wound. Another team is on their way up.”

Christian did as he was told but wanted to scream with frustration when Ana cried out in pain.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Hold on. Help is coming. You’re doing great, just stay with me.”

Ana tried to focus on Christian’s voice as the third paramedic team reached them and moved her onto a stretcher. They were asking questions and performing a neurological exam as they attempted to stop the bleeding in her leg. She felt the stretcher rise into the air and bump along the ruined floor as they took her to the elevator and down to the ambulance. Through it all, Christian never stopped talking to her, encouraging her, telling her how much he loved her.

He sat next to her in the ambulance and took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips as he stared at her through anxious, tear-filled eyes.

“I love you,” Ana whispered as her vision began to darken. The wailing of the siren sounded as though it were underwater, and she felt herself drift into nothingness.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Friday February 20, 2015

Christian glanced at the clock on the wall of his wife’s hospital room before returning his gaze to her battered face. He’d panicked when Ana had lost consciousness in the ambulance, but the EMT had assured him that her pulse was steady. On top of the blood loss, her adrenaline levels had crashed, and she’d no doubt been in a great deal of pain. It was a perfect storm for a blackout, as one of the medics had put it. Christian was trying to remain as calm and rational as possible, but he hadn’t seen his wife’s beautiful blue eyes in nearly five hours, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until he did.

Ana had been whisked off to surgery almost immediately after they’d arrived at the hospital. When Christian had shuffled into the waiting room, he’d been mildly surprised to find most of his family already there. The media had been reporting on the hostage situation since shortly after the platoon of police vehicles had surrounded the building, and they’d made national news when the FBI had shown up. Taylor had called Grace once everyone was on their way to the hospital, and Grace had notified everyone else.

The surgery had seemed to take hours, though in reality it had only been one. The surgeon had informed them that the bullet had missed Ana’s femur as well as her femoral artery; she’d been very lucky. She would need to stay off of the leg for a little while, but she hadn’t needed a cast. The head wound had been the bigger concern for her doctors, but her CT scan had shown only a grade two concussion.

Christian watched the steady rise and fall of Ana’s chest, watched her heart rate on the monitor, watched her face for signs of consciousness… The eerie stillness of her body was beginning to drive him mad. The bruise on her face had darkened, the various shades of blue and purple covering about thirty percent of the right side of her face. Her eye was swollen, and the skin had been broken at the temple, requiring four stitches. He hated that she would have a scar, albeit a small one, to remind her of what had happened every time she looked in a mirror. Christian leaned forward for the umpteenth time to softly press his lips to her forehead. When he pulled away, he saw movement behind her eyelids, and he held his breath as they fluttered open.

“Ana,” he breathed, smiling for the first time since that morning. Her return smile was weak, but it brought him relief regardless.

“Hi,” she whispered. Ana looked around the room as though searching for something.

“What do you need, baby?”

“Water, please.” Her voice was hoarse and her throat sore from the intubation during surgery. Christian sprang to his feet and retrieved the bottle of water he’d been sipping from for the past few hours. He paused to press the call button before gently tipping the water bottle against her lips. She swallowed gratefully and gave him another smile.

“Thank you,” she sighed. Christian brought her hand to his lips and stared at her as though he was afraid she might disappear.

“Christ, Ana, I was so… I thought…” Words failed him as his throat tightened and fresh tears spilled over his cheeks. Ana raised her arms toward him, and he didn’t waste time falling into them. He laid his ear over her heart, counting the beats as she shushed and soothed him.

“Hey… I’m okay. It’s over now. Shhhh…” She held him close and stroked his tangled hair as his breathing slowly returned to normal. After a few minutes, a nurse with strawberry blonde hair and paisley-printed scrubs appeared in the doorway.

“Ah, you’re awake, Mrs. Grey,” the nurse observed with a bright expression as she entered the room and came around the bed to check the monitor. Christian leaned back but kept ahold of Ana’s hand. “My name is Jen, and I’ll be on duty until midnight. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. And thirsty.”

“Both normal,” Jen nodded. “I’ll bring you some ice water as soon as I’m finished here. Can you rate your pain level?”

“Maybe a five?”

“Alright. We’ll see what your doctor wants to prescribe for that.”

“How long have I been out?” Ana asked, her eyes gravitating toward her husband again while the nurse took her vitals.

“Five hours and three minutes,” he replied, squeezing her hand. “I’d say the longest hours of my life, but I think the time you spent in the same room as those bastards probably fits that description better.”

“I agree,” Ana nodded, stroking his hand with her thumb. “Is my mom okay? Sawyer?”

“There’s been no word yet, but they know where to find me. Both of them were in surgery, last I heard. Taylor called Bob, and he’s on his way here. Sawyer doesn’t have much family, but Mathison was able to get ahold of his brother. He’s probably here by now. Ray’s on his way too; my mom will make sure he finds us as soon as he gets here.”

“Your mom is here?” Ana asked, realizing belatedly that she didn’t even know what hospital they were in at the moment.

“Everyone is here. My parents, Mia, Elliot, Kate… They were all in the waiting room before we even got here.”

“Wow. How did that happen?”

“Well, the cops had the streets blocked off for a couple of hours. Then there was the matter of FBI tactical teams landing Charlie Tango on the roof and rappelling down to the balcony off the master bedroom. The press picked up on it pretty quickly, apparently. Judy’s already had requests for interviews with you from the major news networks and a few talk shows.”

“Holy shit,” Ana shook her head. “They don’t really even know what happened, and already the vultures are circling.”

“You don’t have to talk to anyone, baby. Let’s not worry about that right now. I’ll text everyone and tell them you’re awake so they can go home. I’m sure they’ll all want to see you in the morning. For now though, let’s just focus on healing.”

“I agree with your husband on that one, ma’am. You should be back on your feet in no time, but for now you need to rest and heal,” the nurse smiled encouragingly. “Your vitals look good. I’m going to page your doctor and let him know you’re awake. He should be in shortly.”

“Thank you.” Once she was alone with her husband, she returned to the conversation. “I assume you know what happened?”

“Not everything,” he sighed. “They shut down the surveillance cameras, so there are a lot of holes to fill. Barney’s team has been digging into Limbrick’s past for the last few hours. The tip that he and Morton were brothers helped to point them in the right direction.”

“I’m surprised it didn’t come up on any of the background checks. With everything going on at GEH, you’d think it would’ve shown up on a cross check.”

“Yeah,” Christian growled, clearly irritated with certain members of his staff. “We still don’t know how he was hacking into everything each time, but it looks like his involvement with Delilah last year is probably how he got access to the finance records for the first hack.

“The family connection to Morton was missed for a number of reasons. They shared a biological mother, whose maiden name was Hughes. She had Morton when she was fourteen and let some friends of the family adopt him. She was sent to live with other relatives after he was born and never saw him after that. Morton took his adoptive parents’ name, and the records were sealed because his birth mother was so young. That’s why nothing came up in a cross check. Some years later, she married Limbrick’s father, but she didn’t get pregnant again until she was in her thirties.”

“So that explains the age difference. They really looked nothing alike, but I guess that’s not all that strange. Morton said that he tracked his birth mother down after he got out of jail, and that’s when he found out about Limbrick. Neither of them even knew the other existed until that. The fact that Morton’s ex-stepdaughter was married to Limbrick’s boss was just… coincidence.”

“Hell of a coincidence,” Christian scoffed. “I still don’t understand why Limbrick had it in for me. Unless it was really just about the money.”

“I know why… sort of. He told me that the two of you had a class together at Harvard your freshman year.” Christian looked mystified, so she continued. “There was a group project or something where you had to work in pairs and create a business model. He said that he contributed his ideas but then was called back home when his mother got sick. While he was gone, you finished the project with his ideas incorporated and turned it in under just your name.”

“I do remember him now,” he nodded after a moment’s contemplation. “He looked very different back then. I’d forgotten his name I guess. I remember that he dropped the project halfway through, but he’d only made a few suggestions. They were things that I’d already come up with anyway. When he left, I didn’t bother to ask for a new partner because he hadn’t been pulling his weight, and I work better alone anyway. I never saw

him again after that class, and I didn’t stay at Harvard through the following semester. I never gave him a second thought, honestly.”

“I figured it was something like that,” Ana nodded. “I didn’t argue with him because I didn’t want to provoke him, but apparently the thought that you betrayed him and stole his ideas to eventually become a billionaire had been festering for a while.”

“Hmm. When Welch was reviewing his background check and résumé again, he pointed out that Limbrick actually had two degrees. One in business and one in information technology. He’d never held any IT jobs, and no one thought anything of it when they were vetting him because it’s actually a pretty common minor or second major.”

“So that’s how he knew enough about hacking to cause so many problems… Wow.”

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “The fact that he was never implicated through all of the checks and interviews is utterly infuriating. Welch and Barney might just have to beg to keep their jobs.”

“Don’t be too hard on them. He was a good actor, Christian. I mean, he hated you, but did he ever give you any indication of that? I thought he was a creep, but he never gave me a ‘psycho’ vibe.”

“I know, Ana, but it’s not enough. With all of the money we spend on security, someone still managed to get into our home and shoot my wife. Not to mention your mother and Sawyer.” He sighed and put both of his elbows on the side of the bed, thrusting his hands into his already disheveled hair.

“They’re dead now. Both of them. Neither of them can hurt anyone ever again.”

“I…” he faltered, looking at her bruised face in anguish. “I want to say that no one will ever hurt you again, but… I can’t promise that, can I? You didn’t have enough protection, and look what happened.”

“We didn’t have any reason to think we weren’t safe at Escala,” she soothed him. “And Sawyer was with us. Reynolds had stepped out for a few minutes, but if he’d been there, they would’ve just shot him as well.”

“Two men obviously weren’t enough, Ana,” Christian argued. “And on top of that, it’s my fault that the security system at home wasn’t updated at the same time as GEH. They offered to do it, but I turned them down.”

“You wanted to make sure it was the right fit. We talked about it, and I don’t think it was a bad decision.”

“How can you say that?” His blood pressure was rising again, and he got up to pace the small room. Ana watched in alarm as he launched into a self-loathing rant. “I should’ve just had them make the damn changes all at the same time. That fucker was able to change the elevator code and disable the panic button protocol before he was even in the building! I left you vulnerable, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“That’s enough!” she said loudly, as close to shouting as her sore throat would allow. “Knock it off right now. This was not. your. fault. Period. Bad people do bad things, and Limbrick and Morton were both determined to get what they wanted. They spent months just toying with us. Attack and wait, attack and fucking wait. It was well planned and

well executed, but they got what was coming to them in the end. So stop berating yourself and come hold me. Don’t make me come over there.”

The end of her speech was infused with her familiar teasing tone, and hearing it after he’d spent the day fearing he never would again made Christian’s chest ache. He moved quickly back to her side and perched carefully on the bed before wrapping his arms around her.

“I’ve never been more afraid than I was today, baby. I thought they were going to take you from me, and I’ve never felt so powerless,” he confessed, burying his face in her hair.

“I know,” she whispered. “I was terrified that I’d never see you again. They were going to kill us; I was sure of it. They started arguing with each other about where they would go once they crossed the border. I knew then that they didn’t plan to let us live long enough to tell anyone their plans.”

“What changed then?” he frowned, sitting back a little to look at her face. She bit her lip nervously and looked away. Christian was confused by her guilty expression. “Ana…” She heard the warning in his tone and met his gaze reluctantly.

“Sawyer’s gun was still on the floor not too far away from where Mom and I were standing, and they were distracted for a minute…” She winced as his eyes widened with understanding and fear.

“Jesus Christ, Anastasia. What the fuck were you thinking???” He knew he was raising his voice again, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of her taking that risk sent a cold wave of terror through his extremities. Ana registered his use of her full name but wasn’t in the mood to be chastised.

“I was thinking that they were going to shoot us no matter what we did and that just maybe if I got my hands on a weapon, I could improve our odds a little.”

The words were spoken with a snap in her voice that he recognized, and he heard the heart monitor beep a little faster. She was right, of course, and he knew it. Christian was proud of her courage, but he privately wondered if she or her mother would’ve been injured if she’d just waited for help to arrive. It was impossible to know either way. He backpedaled, bringing up a hand to cup her cheek.

“Shh, I’m sorry. You’re right. You were in an impossible position, and you were hoping for a better outcome. I probably would have done the same. Please calm down, Ana.”

He kissed her forehead, and she sighed, silently acknowledging that getting upset wouldn’t do her any favors. Her head was already pounding.

“Sorry,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Don’t apologize. I wasn’t there, and I have no right to judge your actions.”

Ana could hear the guilt in his voice and shook her head as she squeezed him a little tighter. She stroked his back soothingly and kissed every part of him she could reach. They held one another as the minutes crept by until a knock on the door alerted them to the arrival of her doctor.

“Glad to see you awake, Mrs. Grey,” the man smiled politely, reaching forward to shake her hand.

“Just Ana, please. Nice to meet you. This is my husband, Christian.” she replied. Christian rose reluctantly from the bed and returned to his seat at her side, accepting a handshake from the man as well.

“Pleasure to meet you both. I’m Dr. Lukens. I’m a trauma surgeon, and I operated on your leg. You were very lucky. The bullet missed your femur as well as your femoral artery. We had to go in to remove the bullet and repair the damaged tissue, but you should be up and about in a couple of weeks. Your concussion was a grade two, and before you’re discharged, I’ll want a repeat MRI.”

“When can I leave?”

“If everything checks out, we can release you tomorrow morning. You’ll be on pain meds for a little while. Crutches too. You’ll need to take it easy and let your body rest and heal.”

“She will,” Christian vowed, and Ana rolled her eyes a little at his declaration. She wondered where they would go when she was discharged. Obviously, Escala wasn’t an option.

“Is there any news on my mom?” Ana asked. Dr. Lukens’ eyes brightened as he answered.

“Actually, yes, that’s the other reason I’m here. Her doctor will come give you a full status report shortly, but she did make it through the surgery. She’s in the ICU, but she’s stable. Her prognosis looks good.”

“Thank God,” Ana sighed in relief. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to hear those words until she registered that her headache was easing up a little. “What about Sawyer?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have information on Mr. Sawyer. He may still be in surgery.”

He may be, Ana’s thought echoed. Or he could have died… Or maybe they’re just not allowed to tell us because we’re not his family. She pushed away the negative thoughts and turned to her husband.

“Can you find a way to check?” she asked him. Christian nodded, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket again.

“I’ve been keeping in touch with Taylor. Last we heard, Sawyer was still in surgery, and that was an hour ago. There should be another update soon. I’m making sure he gets the best possible treatment, Ana. If he’s still in surgery, that means he’s still alive and still fighting.”

Ana released a steadying breath and nodded, refocusing her attention on answering the doctor’s questions. He prescribed a pain reliever and promised to check in with her again in a few hours.

As he was leaving, a female doctor peeked into the room. She was wearing surgical scrubs and looked utterly exhausted. She introduced herself as Dr. Mayer and shook hands with Ana and Christian both.

“How’s my mom?” Ana asked trepidatiously, holding her husband’s hand.

“She’s holding stable in the ICU for now. She had extensive internal bleeding and damage to the large intestine, small intestine, and right kidney. She coded twice on the table, but

she’s tough,” Dr. Mayer said bracingly. “If she holds steady through the night, I’m optimistic that she’ll make a full recovery. The first twenty-four hours are the biggest hurdle, so just try to stay positive, okay?”

Ana nodded, her eyes filling with tears upon hearing that her mother’s heart had stopped twice.

“Can I see her?”

“Not tonight, I’m afraid, but as long as there are no incidents overnight, you should be able to see her tomorrow.”

Ana sighed in disappointed acceptance and thanked the woman for the information. Dr. Mayer took her leave, and Christian promptly settled back into place in his wife’s hospital bed. She cried into his chest as he held her.

“She stood in front of a bullet for me,” Ana sobbed. “She stood between me and a man with a gun and told him to shoot her instead. All of those years that I thought she didn’t really care about me… It all seems like a joke. She has to make it, Christian. She has to.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Saturday February 21, 2015

Much to her husband’s dismay, Ana had refused to sleep until they’d received news that Sawyer had survived the surgery. The damage from the gunshot wound hadn’t been fatal, but there had been complications during the operation, which had prolonged the procedure. He was now in the ICU with a similar prognosis as Carla; if he made it through the first twenty-four hours, his odds of survival increased dramatically. Ana was both relieved and concerned for her friend; after all, he had taken a bullet for her too. Christian assured her that Sawyer would have a job with them as long as he wanted one and promised her that he would want for nothing while he was recovering.

In spite of the nurses’ admonitions, Christian squeezed into the hospital bed with his wife and held her while she slept. Sleep evaded him for quite some time, however, as his mind replayed the horrifying events of the day. It was nearly two a.m. when he finally dozed off, and when next he opened his eyes, they were no longer alone in the room. Ana was talking to her father in hushed tones, clearly attempting not to wake him.

“Hey,” Ana said softly when she noticed him stirring. They were lying close enough to one another that, had they not been married, Christian might have been slightly embarrassed by Ray’s presence. Morning wood was definitely much more uncomfortable when one’s father-in-law was in the room.

“Hey, Beautiful,” he replied, kissing her bruised face. The touch of his lips was feather-light, but she still winced at the contact. Christian frowned. “Need more pain meds?”

“Probably,” she said with a little shrug. He immediately reached around her to press the call button before turning his attention to Ray.

“Morning, Ray. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” Christian eased out of the bed, careful not to jostle Ana’s bandaged leg.

“That’s alright, son. I haven’t been here too long. Got a hotel room last night since visiting hours were over by the time I got here,” Ray explained.

“I’ll have Taylor set you up with a room at the Fairmont when you leave here. That’s where Bob and Sawyer’s brother are staying.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what he did last night. Bob’s got the room next door.”

Christian nodded, grateful that Taylor was on top of things. He excused himself briefly to use the restroom and returned just as the nurse entered the room. She got Ana set up with another dose of pain reliever and announced that the doctor would be rounding on her soon.

“Let’s get back to the story, Annie,” Ray suggested after the nurse had disappeared. “These bastards demanded a billion dollars and a helicopter… then what?”

Ana looked at her husband and patted the mattress next to her. He perched on the side of the bed and took her hand in his, squeezing gently. Over the next few minutes, Ana relayed the sequence of events from the day before, and Ray’s expression grew steadily darker as the tale progressed.

“You should have let me bring your gun, Annie. I brought it with me this time, and I brought the paperwork to get your permit renewed,” Ray told her firmly.

Christian kept silent, for once displaying very little reaction to the idea of his wife owning a gun. He understood Ray’s intense desire to protect his daughter as well as his residual fear that they’d almost lost her. He still felt that guns were inherently dangerous, but how could he say with certainty that it wouldn’t have made a difference if she’d had one yesterday? Ana’s next words only served to increase his ambivalence on the matter.

“Dad, even if you’d brought it to me months ago, it wouldn’t have made a difference yesterday. I was at home, so I wouldn’t have had it on me when they got in. There was no time to hide or prepare to fight or… anything. One second, Sawyer was telling us to lock ourselves in the security office, and the next, there were men coming out of the elevator and shooting at us. There wouldn’t have been time to run and get it.”

“Maybe so, but I’ll feel better knowing you have it from now on. Please, Annie. Do it for me?”

Ana looked reluctantly at Christian, whose expression was impassive.

“It’s up to you,” he said simply. As much as he hated the things, he wondered if perhaps knowing that his wife was armed and capable of defending herself might give both of them just a little peace of mind after this mess. Ana raised her eyebrows in surprise and continued to gaze at him in speculation for another moment, not quite able to gauge his sincerity.

“Alright, Dad. I’ll hold onto it, and I’ll get my permit renewed… But I’m not going to stay locked and loaded all the time. I can’t live like that. I’ll keep it in a safe and only carry it when Christian and I feel the situation calls for it.”

“That’s good enough for me. Thank you.” The words were directed at Ana, but Christian could tell that Ray meant them for him as well. He nodded in acknowledgment but said nothing.

Shortly thereafter, Ana’s doctor came in for morning rounds and confirmed that she would be released later that day so long as her second MRI showed nothing out of the ordinary. They would take her down to perform the test first thing after lunch.

“So I can go see my mom now, then?” Ana asked eagerly.

“We can have someone wheel you up to her room,” the doctor nodded. “We need to minimize the stress to your body though, so let’s get your pain under control first, alright? Give those meds some time to kick in.”

The doctor recommended waiting at least thirty minutes for the pain relievers to take effect, and Ana was demanding a wheelchair after thirty-one minutes. Christian nudged the orderly out of the way so that he could push the wheelchair himself, and when they reached the ICU floor, a nurse directed them to Carla’s room. There was a two-at-a-time

restriction on visitors, so Christian waited outside with Ray. Bob gave Ana a weak smile as the nurse pushed the wheelchair up to Carla’s bedside.

“Hey, kiddo,” he greeted her, his voice weary. She whispered a response and gave him a little wave.

Bob had called her ‘kiddo’ ever since Carla had first introduced them, and Ana had never been entirely sure why. She thought that perhaps he hadn’t known how else to address someone who would be his stepdaughter, regardless of the fact that she was an adult. In that moment, however, it somehow felt right. She might be a full-grown woman, but she’d never felt more like a little girl who needed her mother.

Carla looked pale and small in the large hospital bed, and the sight was heartbreaking. Dark circles around her eyes made them appear a bit sunken, and the blonde hair she’d been so happy to show off was dull and lifeless. She was on a respirator, and her heart rate and blood pressure were being continually monitored. Even beneath the hospital gown and blankets, Ana could tell that her abdomen was heavily bandaged. She appeared to be sleeping soundly in spite of the noisy monitors in the room.

“They’re hoping to be able to bring her out of the coma in the next couple of days,” Bob told her.

“She’s not been awake at all since the surgery?”

“No. The doctors say that her body just needs time to heal. They’re going to stop some of the meds tonight and see how she does, but even then it could still take a few days for her to come around.”

“And that’s normal?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck nervously. “They said they won’t worry about it unless she still hasn’t woken up on her own in three days. Her brain scans looked okay, but she coded twice, and she was down for a couple of minutes each time. They don’t think the lack of oxygen to her brain had any lasting effects, but they’re keeping an eye on it.”

Fuck, Ana cursed inwardly, a sob rising up in her chest. She took her mother’s limp hand and was glad to find it warm.

“I’m sorry, Bob. I know nothing I can say makes this easier, but I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Ana. You didn’t do this. She was so happy to be coming to visit you. She’s been excited about it for weeks. I know you two haven’t always had the best relationship, but she loves you so much, Ana.” His eyes shone with tears, while Ana’s own tears tipped over her lashes.

“Thank you. I know she does. I hate that we wasted so much time avoiding each other,” she sniffled.

“She does too.” He was quiet for a few moments before speaking again. “Since you’re here, I’m going to step out for a few minutes and make some calls. Give you a little time with her.”

“Alright. Thanks, Bob.”

“Of course. I’m really glad you’re alright, kiddo. I’ve been worried about you too.”

Ana smiled gratefully and watched him leave the room before turning back to her mother.

“You know, I never really understood your relationship with him, Mom, but I’m starting to get it. He’s a good guy. He definitely loves you.”

Ana watched her mother for any sign that she might be able to hear her, but Carla remained still except for the mechanically regulated rise and fall of her chest.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Ana whispered. “Please hold on for me; keep fighting. I need you… We haven’t had enough time together, Mama. We need more time.”

Christian waited outside of Carla’s hospital room even after he saw Bob leave; he too wanted to give Ana a little time alone with her mother. He watched her through the glass door, however, and when she broke down against her mother’s bed, he quickly moved to her side.

“She’ll be alright, baby,” he soothed her, stroking her long hair. “She’s a fighter. Just like you.”

Ana wanted to scream at him that he couldn’t know whether Carla would recover or not, but she couldn’t form the words through her tears. She allowed Christian to hold her until the sobs tapered off, and as he wheeled her back downstairs to her room, she couldn’t help but silently replay his words.

He’d called her mother a fighter, and she now knew that to be accurate. Before the shooting, Ana had always taken her mother for a relatively passive woman. Not a coward and not weak, but the kind of woman who intimidated easily. She knew how frightened Carla had been for those hours they’d been held at gunpoint. She’d felt her mother’s body trembling next to her on the couch, watched her cry a steady stream of tears almost the entire time. When Ana had gone for Sawyer’s gun, Carla had seemed paralyzed with fear.

But in spite of her terror, she’d summoned the courage to put herself in front of a loaded gun in the hopes of saving her child’s life. If that wasn’t bravery, Ana didn’t know what was. She knew that motherhood came with its own set of biological instincts, and the instinct to protect one’s child was paramount. However, she’d never seen it in action the way Carla had shown her that day. It was inspiring and incredibly humbling.

When they returned to Ana’s room, Christian insisted that she try to rest for a little while before lunch, and she didn’t argue with him. Seeing her mother in such a state had left her feeling utterly drained, and she was asleep within minutes. Christian woke her for lunch around noon, having declined the hospital meal service in favor of takeout that Taylor had picked up from one of their favorite places.

When he dropped off the food, Taylor reported that Sawyer was still stable. His brother was with him and had invited them both to check in when they could. Ana insisted that she wanted to stop by as soon as she was discharged, even if only for a few minutes. She felt the need to thank Sawyer as well, whether he could hear the words yet or not.

Ana’s second MRI showed nothing that concerned her doctor, so he signed her discharge papers that afternoon. Christian was adamant about following his orders for rest, but Ana

refused to leaving the hospital without seeing Sawyer. When they peeked into his room, the scene was much the same as it had been with Carla, except that the bandages were concentrated over his chest. He too was being kept in a comatose state, and his doctors didn’t expect to start bringing him out of it for a couple of weeks. His brain had been deprived of oxygen for much longer, having been left to bleed on the floor for so long. It was truly a miracle that he was alive.

“Where are we going?” Ana asked once Christian and Taylor had loaded her carefully into the SUV. “I just realized we haven’t even talked about that. We can’t exactly go back home.”

“We’re going to my parents’ house,” Christian replied. “I considered a suite at the Fairmont so that you could be close to your dad, but the press has been a problem.”

“I assumed as much, seeing as how we just snuck out the back entrance and parked in a service alley,” she said lightly. “Your parents are okay with us crashing for a little while?”

“Of course. My mother insisted on it, actually. And it will be good to have a doctor nearby, just in case. It should be easier to keep the press away from there too,” he explained. Ana nodded as his words reminded her of something Morton had said.

“We might need to come up with a better press policy,” she told him. Christian raised a curious brow. “From the way Morton was talking… I think he’d been following my movements through the media. There have been more reporters around than usual over the past couple of months because of SHI. All of the interviews and radio shows I did probably didn’t help matters either.”

“Yes,” Christian growled quietly. “It probably fed into his fixation, made him even more determined to get to you.”

Christian was finding it difficult not to default to his previous opinion of the press. He’d tried to follow his wife’s example and think of them as a resource to be tapped, but their unwitting aid to the men who had hurt Ana was enough to have him hating them again. For all the good they might have done for SHI, their presence had more than likely contributed to the chain of events that had almost taken her from him.

Due to the lengthy discharge process and heavy traffic, it was nearly dinnertime when they arrived at Grey Manor. The entire family was there, as well as Kate and Ethan, and everyone expressed their relief to see Ana awake and out of the hospital. Christian wanted to tell them all to back off, but Ana seemed genuinely happy to see everyone. Her smile was the only thing that held his tongue.

Wednesday February 25, 2015

“It’s been three days now. She’s supposed to be awake,” Ana said nervously as they headed back to Grey Manor after leaving the hospital. Taylor and Mathison were in the front seats while she rode with her injured leg propped on Christian’s lap.

She’d spent a lot of time on the ICU floor since being discharged, and Christian had taken off work to make sure she followed her doctor’s orders. She wasn’t eating enough or sleeping enough to satisfy him, but Ana had insisted upon visiting Carla and Sawyer every day for as long as possible. She was determined to be there when her mother finally

opened her eyes, and as the days passed, she was becoming more and more anxious that Carla’s doctors might have missed something.

“I know, baby. You have to trust that the doctors will know what to do. If she’s not waking up on her own, they’ll probably have to do it with some kind of drug. She’s in good hands, Ana. Everyone on her team, as well as Sawyer’s, is the best.”

That was certainly true. Of the three attending physicians rotating on their cases, two of them had been flown in from L.A. at Christian’s expense. He’d also insisted that all of the residents involved in Carla’s and Sawyer’s care be handpicked by the chief of staff and be at the top of their class. He’d done everything possible to ensure that both of them were receiving the best possible care.

Ana sighed in reluctant acceptance and watched the scenery glide by. She heard a cell phone ring from the seat directly in front of her and listened passively while Mathison took a call. It was brief, but her attention was drawn to his use of the word ‘sir.’ So far as she knew, the only two people Mathison addressed that way were in the car with them. Once he ended the call, he turned slightly toward Christian.

“Sir, that was Special Agent Mills from the FBI. The forensics team has finished their work at Escala.”

“Forensics team?” Ana repeated. “What’s the point? Both Limbrick and Morton are dead.”

“It’s standard procedure apparently,” Christian frowned. “They brought in both SWAT and HRT. They’ll have a lot of paperwork to file, and for that, they need to have hard evidence of what happened. Though, I’m not entirely sure they aren’t just covering their asses.”

“What do you mean?”

“They came in shooting, and the bad guys weren’t the only ones who took a hit.”

“But it was Morton that shot us. Well, Limbrick shot Sawyer, but still…”

“Yes, and the bullet they removed from your leg will confirm that, but they just want to do their due diligence I guess. At any rate, they’re done, and we can start the repairs,” he explained.

Ana frowned thoughtfully. They hadn’t really discussed going back to Escala. Their beautiful home was riddled with bullet holes, and just the thought of setting foot in the place had Ana’s heart racing. She wasn’t ready for that, and she wasn’t sure she ever would be. Christian watched her closely, gauging her reaction. He gently rubbed the calf of the leg that was in his lap.

“You’re afraid to go back,” he surmised, smiling compassionately. Ana flushed and looked away briefly.

“It’s ridiculous. I have far more happy memories there than anywhere else, and I know they’re dead, but…” she trailed off, unable to make sense of her anxiety.

“Well… What if we don’t go back?” When she frowned in confusion, he continued, “I’ve been thinking about it since Saturday, and I think… Maybe we should buy a house.”

“Really?” Ana asked in surprise. She tried to ignore the surge of relief she felt at the prospect.

“Really. It’s as good a time as any to move, honestly. Even with everything going on now, I don’t really see it slowing down much in the near future. Things are always a bit crazy, so… why wait?”

“Okay,” she grinned, growing more excited as the idea took hold. A new home, new memories. A fresh start…

“Okay?” Christian echoed, his own smile widening as well. She nodded happily, and he leaned across the seat to kiss her. “I’m glad you’re on board. I was afraid I might have to do some convincing.”

“Well, that might have been fun,” she laughed, “but I think it’s a great idea.”

“That’s good because… I might have found one.” Her brows lifted in surprise again.

“Already?”

“Well, I had a real estate agent give me an idea of what’s on the market right now. I didn’t have time to browse the internet for hours on end, so I just gave her a checklist. She got back to me with a few properties, but there’s one in particular that I think will work best. I’ve only seen a picture but it looks… like you. It’s a mix of gray stone and cobalt blue stucco on the outside. It’s earthy, and the architecture has an old-world feel, you know?”

“It sounds beautiful,” she smiled. “When can we see it?” Christian thought for a moment before fishing his cell from his pocket.

“Do you feel up to looking at it now? I can see if the realtor can meet us. Considering the commission she’ll get off the sale, I don’t think she’ll tell me no,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, let’s at least drive by. I’ll text your mom and tell her we’ll be a little late.”

Thirty minutes later, they were being welcomed by a short, redheaded real estate agent who introduced herself as Olga Kelly. Ana only vaguely heard her words, however, as she was already captivated by the house. Even before Olga opened the front door, Ana felt as though she were coming home. It was exactly as Christian had described, and the old-world charm carried through to the interior as well. All in all, it needed very little updating, aside from the security upgrades Christian wanted to make. A few rooms would need new carpeting and fresh coats of paint, but it wouldn’t take much at all to make it move-in ready.

Ana was in love, and Christian wasted no time in putting in an offer for ninety percent of the asking price in cash. They parted ways with the realtor and headed back to Grey Manor, exchanging ideas and making plans for their new home. Olga called back before nine that evening, and Christian met Ana’s gaze with a brilliant smile.

“It’s ours.”

Friday February 27, 2015

The following afternoon found Christian and Ana sitting together at Carla’s bedside. They’d finally convinced Bob to make use of his hotel room and get some sleep, and Ana

refused to be anywhere but at her mother’s side. Plans for the new house could wait. Work could wait. As far as Ana was concerned, everything could wait.

She was able to get around on a set of crutches well enough, and when they weren’t at the hospital, she spent most of her time napping. Sawyer’s condition remained stable, but in his case, no change was a good thing. Carla’s physicians had started her on a medication that would stimulate her nervous system a little and hopefully wake her up. They’d wanted her to wake up after three days, and it was presently day five. Ana had begun to worry that her mother might never wake, but the doctors had encouraged her to be patient.

Christian was sitting in one of the armchairs with his laptop, attempting to catch up on the emails that had been flooding his inbox in his absence. Ros was doing a good job of holding down the fort, especially considering they were now short a Head of Mergers and Acquisitions as well as a CEO. Christian knew that he would have to return to work Monday, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. The thought of leaving Ana alone made him anxious. Although he knew it was a natural reaction to the trauma they’d been through, it didn’t make the prospect of being away from her any easier to stomach.

Ana sat next to her mother, holding her hand and keeping up a steady monologue on everything Carla was missing. She described the new house down to the most minute details and relayed the latest news on everyone in their family. Christian listened passively, smiling here and there when Ana made a joke or a sarcastic comment, but he didn’t look up from his computer until his wife suddenly fell silent.

They had extubated Carla when they’d stopped the sedation, and Ana was frozen in place as she watched her mother’s mouth move. She gasped and squeezed Carla’s hand a little tighter.

“Mom? Can you hear me?” Carla’s eyes began to flutter, and Ana quickly leaned forward to press the call button. Christian rose from the chair and moved to stand next to his wife. “Mom? Can you squeeze my hand?”

Ana felt a slight but definite increase in pressure against her fingers, and she gave a laughing sob of relief. Carla’s eyes opened slowly as her mouth formed silent words neither Ana nor Christian could decipher. A pair of nurses bustled into the room and nudged them out of the way while they checked on Carla. They were followed by more doctors, who eventually announced that Carla could be moved to a regular room after another CT scan of her abdomen. By the time they were alone again, Christian had called Bob and told him to come back to the hospital. Ana had made no progress toward getting control of her emotions, and she hobbled back over to her chair and sat down, holding her mother’s hand again.

“Mom... Thank God,” she sobbed, tears of relief falling over her cheeks as she began to ramble. “I was so scared. You were shot, but you’re going to be okay. Bob’s here too. Well, he’s not here, but he’s in Seattle. Sawyer’s alive too! He’s still in a coma, but they think he’ll pull through, and--”

“Ana,” Christian smiled, rubbing her back tenderly. “She’s probably not completely aware yet; give her a minute.”

“She talks too much,” Carla croaked, wincing at the soreness in her throat.

Ana launched into a fresh round of happy tears and kissed the back of her mother’s hand.

“You’re really awake. They thought you’d wake up days ago, but you didn’t, and…”

“It’s okay, Ana,” her mother whispered, smiling weakly. “I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry, Mama. I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, now… None of that.”

“I love you so much.” Ana buried her face into her mother’s hair and inhaled her familiar scent. Carla lifted a shaky hand to pat her daughter’s back and smiled at Christian over her shoulder.

“I love you too, Sweetheart.”

“You took a bullet for me,” Ana wept.

“And I’d do it again,” she vowed. “You’re my child. It wasn’t even a choice.”

Epilogue

Monday May 18, 2015

When Christian and Ana walked through the hospital entrance again three months later, it was under much happier circumstances. Celia had given birth to a healthy baby boy, and Christian and Ana were to be named his godparents. Ana was practically bouncing with excitement as they rode the elevator up to the maternity floor.

“What do you think they named him?” she asked her husband for the umpteenth time. Their friends had been very secretive about the name they’d chosen for their son, and Ana had been trying to guess it for months, much to Celia’s amusement.

“I have no idea,” Christian chuckled. “Just like the last time you asked. And the time before that.”

“Sorry. I just hate that we missed the birth. Not that the vacation wasn’t perfect, but I thought she had another week.”

“So did she,” he snickered. Celia’s water had broken en route from Kirkland to Capitol Hill in rush hour traffic. They’d had to call an ambulance, and the baby had very nearly been delivered in the back seat of Brett’s Yukon. Ana gave her husband a playful swat of chastisement.

“Don’t make fun. Brett did the best he could under the circumstances. I’m sure it was terrifying.”

“Celia said he was raving like a lunatic.”

“And you wouldn’t be?” Ana asked as they departed the elevator into a pastel painted lobby.

“We’ll never know. Because when it’s time for you to give birth, we’re going to have a streamlined plan that doesn’t involve traveling during rush hour. Charlie Tango is equipped for medevac purposes, so I’ll just fly us to the hospital when you go into labor,” he replied in a sensible tone.

“There are so many things wrong with that statement that I don’t even know where to begin,” she shook her head as they approached the desk. Ana smiled at the receptionist. “We’re here to see Celia Neufeldt. She delivered yesterday.”

Once they had signed in, they were directed to Celia’s room and knocked quietly on the open door before entering. She was sitting up in bed, watching her husband and son with a besotted smile on her face. Brett was cradling the baby in his arms and seemed to be giving him his first lesson on Seattle baseball.

“Starting young, are we?” Christian grinned as he caught the tail end of Brett’s sentence. His friend beamed and nodded happily.

“Of course,” Celia chuckled. “He’s got a jersey in every size for the next three years. How was Cabo? You both look wonderful!”

“Oh, hush, you look wonderful. You don’t look at all like someone who just had a baby!” Ana said sincerely, crossing the room to hug her friend.

“Thank you, but I sure as hell feel like I just had a baby. This childbirth stuff is not for wimps. I don’t know who in their right mind would ever do it more than once.”

“If it were the men that had to do it, everyone would be an only child,” Brett seconded. He felt as though he’d lost a good few years off of his life due to the stress of his wife’s labor. Every second of it had been a trial and an adventure, but the reward he held in his arms was infinitely worth it.

“So?! What’s his name?” Ana asked eagerly. The new parents shared a smile as Brett eased the baby into Ana’s arms.

“This is Jackson Brett Neufeldt,” Brett announced.

“Oh, that’s perfect. I love it!”

She held Jackson in the crook of one arm and touched his tiny face with the tip of her finger. He was sleeping at the moment, so she couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but his skin was pink and sweet-smelling. He had a thin layer of soft, dark hair that matched his father’s and stood straight up from his scalp. Since he’d been born quickly and spared a lengthy amount of time in the birth canal, his head had a more natural shape than most newborns, and his facial features were delicate and handsome. He was perfect, and Ana was instantly in love.

Christian watched his wife coo and fuss over the baby and felt a rush of warmth in his chest. They hadn’t had a real conversation about when they would start trying for a baby, but they’d both agreed that when the time was right, they would know. He could tell from the look on Ana’s face in that moment that her uterus was probably skipping beats all over the place, and he couldn’t deny that there was a new yearning in his heart as well.

Their eyes met over the pale blue blanketed bundle, and they shared a long, significant look. They both nodded and beamed at one another, needing no words to confirm that their thoughts were in step. Celia watched them with a smug expression.

“Oh, boy. I know that look.”

“What?” Ana asked innocently, transferring the baby into her husband’s arms. Christian held him awkwardly for a moment before his instincts kicked in. He immediately began to sway a little on his feet without even realizing it, and Ana smiled in approval.

“You know what,” she chuckled. “I’m sure your families will be happy.”

“We’re not pregnant yet,” Ana reminded her.

“And when we are, we’re waiting as long as possible to tell our families. Our mothers will be insufferable.”

“I think your sister will actually be worse. Kate too probably.”

It was true that their mothers hadn’t let up on nudging them toward parenthood, and the change in Carla’s circumstances had only increased her opportunity for encouragement. She’d recovered from her injuries well, and her relationship with Ana had continued to improve after the shooting. It had taken surprisingly little effort on her part to convince

Bob to relocate to Seattle for their retirement. Other than trying to stop Morton, it was the first time in Ana’s memory that her mother had done something so drastic for the sake of their relationship. Ana loved having her mother around more often, and they were closer than they’d ever been. She’d tried to get Ray to move as well, but he was rooted in Montesano, and she understood his desire to stay put. He was still close enough that she got to see him often.

Carla wasn’t the only one who had recovered well after the shooting. Sawyer had come back to work a week ago and now stood waiting outside the hospital room with Taylor. His injuries had been far more severe, and he’d been hospitalized for a little over a month. After discharge, he’d had to endure numerous rounds of physical therapy to rebuild the muscle tissue. Sawyer had become even more protective of Ana after the shooting, and his demeanor had changed a little as well. He wasn’t as impassively austere as Taylor tended to be, but he was definitely more reserved and watchful. His brain never seemed to switch off of ‘high alert,’ and Ana had quickly recognized it as a symptom of PTSD.

Ana, Christian, and Carla had all attended a few therapy sessions in the aftermath of the shooting, but Sawyer had been more stubborn about it. Christian had understood Sawyer’s reluctance, never having enjoyed therapy all that much himself. Ana, however, saw it as a typical tough guy facade that was so common in those with military backgrounds. Nearly every soldier she’d ever known was prone to it. She’d done her best to convince him, but in the end, it had been Taylor’s threat that if he refused treatment, he would be out of a job, that had Sawyer grudgingly agreeing to seek help.

The after-effects of the shooting were far-reaching, but overall, the changes had been positive. The security had been increased tenfold at GEH as well as at the house Christian and Ana had purchased. They had implemented the latest security technologies in as many places as possible, to defend not only from physical attacks but cyber ones as well. Christian had had to hire even more people for his IT and Security departments just to keep on top of everything. New employees were vetted with even greater attention to detail, and existing employees now underwent a complete security every six months. The expense was high, but in Christian’s opinion, every penny was worth it. The fallout of Limbrick’s actions at GEH had been resolved; their applicant rate was back to normal, and they hadn’t lost a deal in months.

After an hour of visiting with their friends and godson, Christian and Ana left the hospital to head home. As they pulled into their long driveway and the house came into view, Ana smiled in gratitude that they’d had chosen such a large home. At the time, she’d secretly thought that eight bedrooms was a bit much, but now it was truly home.

And there was plenty of room for new members of their happy family.

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