Chapter 17 – Sophisticated Tastes

Placing both hands on her full stomach, Ana lets out a long exhale. She contemplates Christian's gripe over her college sweetheart, while the sight of her rubbing her belly distracts Christian.

Until recently, he swore he'd never have kids. The first fifteen years of his life were rough. He wanted no part of bringing a life into the world that would do the things that had been done to him. In fact, for years, he considered permanently handling the issue of ever being a father.

He is relieved that he hadn't jumped the gun, because as images of Ana with child dance in his brain, so does a comforting feeling. Besides making her his wife, her carrying something that they made together out of love would be the ultimate gift for him.

Until he laid eyes on her for the first time, he hadn't believed in love. In darker times, he thought love was something you did out of obligation. He had no choice but to love the couple who had literally saved his life. He had no choice but to project the other two adoptees he grew up with, his siblings.

But when Ana came along, he had to convince himself not to love her.

This isn't right.

She's not mine.

I'd never betray Elliot.

She will never be mine.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't shake her. He eventually decided to stop fighting it and gave in. Since then, his love for Ana has expanded beyond measure. Her love has lifted him to heights he'd never known.

It would be easy for him to be selfish and keep all that love all to himself. But at the age of thirty-two, he has been around long enough to know that this would be highly unreasonable. He is well aware of the fine line that exists between neglect on the right, and suffocation on the left. He is constantly checking himself to make sure he's not jumping too far left.

The old man would have been too selfish to share Ana with anyone else, including his own mother. The new man adores seeing the bright smile on his girl's face when Tammy and the rest of her friends walk into the bar to meet them for Thursday drinks. The new man finds joy in her sweet laughter whenever Doren or José cracks a joke.

But the old man is never far behind.

Images of the handsome bearded man in the suit embracing his fiancée snatch him out of blissful reverie. Earlier, he'd watched and re-watched the CCTV footage from his office. Many moons ago, when he first gave Welch a list of names to alert him if they ever appeared in Mylegent's visitor badge database, he thought the chances of Douglas Dorsey ever showing his face would be a long shot.

Someone on Christian's team obviously dropped the ball. He required intel on any and everyone who'd go near SafeDriver. Dorsey's name was never mentioned as an external candidate. Christian thought he'd made it perfectly clear to Don Richards that all director candidates would have to be vetted by GEH, unless of course that candidate was Ana. As soon as Christian heard about Dorsey earlier in the day, he had his assistant reach out to Richards to schedule a come-to-Jesus meeting on Tuesday.

Christian wants to make certain Dorsey doesn't get to keep the job. Oh, the not-so-reformed puppet master had no doubt that the other WSU Vancouver graduate would land the spot. Compared to the other three candidates, Doug was most qualified for the role.

Ana's critical gaze pulls him out of his thoughts.

"Did you know Doug was being interviewed and didn't tell me?"

"No," he answers in an agitated tone.

"But you found out afterward? Did he get the job?"

"I sure as fuck hope not," Christian snaps. If he did, he won't be there long enough to set pictures on the desk.

Ana winces, beyond surprised by his sudden harshness. "I hope you're not taking this out on me, because I'm getting that impression. I had no idea Doug had moved back to Washington from California. He'd been living there since we graduated. We'd lost touch."

Christian coaxes his racing heart to slow down and his boiling blood to fall to a simmer. He is upset, yes, but the last thing he wants is to take it out on her. Closing his eyes, he counts to five before reopening them. He reaches out and takes her hand in his.

"Baby, I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm…" He searches for the words to describe what he is feeling, but he keeps striking out. Instead, he opts for the honest to God truth. "Look, I saw Dorsey hugging you. I saw as he watched you walk away. I saw him go in your office, and I saw him walk out of it." He grits his teeth. "Goddammit, it took everything in my being to not leave my office right then and go to Mylegent to bash his fucking brains in. That asshole wants under your skirt…bad."

After Ana snatches her hand away, it takes a few moments for her outrage to register for him. He starts to wonder if he should've taken sixty seconds of silence to find the other words he'd been searching for earlier. He's afraid he gave Ana the impression of him being an insanely jealous, dangerous asshole.

But I am that, his mind says in an echo.

"Ana," he pleads. "Look—I never said I was totally cured of my selfish ways. I know I'm a jealous son of a bitch. And unfortunately, that will never change. I'm sorry."

Instead of easing up at his not-an-apology apology, Ana's expression tenses up even more.

"How on earth do you have access to the surveillance at my job?! I mean…. Really?! What the hell, Christian!"

So, it wasn't the 'bashing Dorsey's head in' part that upset her, he thinks. He swallows hard before responding.

"I told you, I'm going to be majority owner of Mylegent once SafeDriver launches."

"Which isn't for another year!"

"As long as my proprietary technology is behind those walls, I have every right to know every little thing that's happening there. I've spent hundreds of millions perfecting that groundbreaking tech. I'm not putting my investment at risk by any means. GEH has every right to surveille every nook and cranny of that fucking place. And I have every right to vet whoever gets near SafeDriver. That is the deal Richards and I made."

Ana scoffs. "I don't think that deal included the Founder and CEO of GEH monitoring me personally." She tilts her head sideways in a critical gaze. "Unless you instructed Welch, Barney, Betty, Fred, and Wilma to call you the moment they see me speaking to a guy who isn't my boss, Doren, or Noah. Because that happens often." Her irritation turns into befuddlement. "Why, Christian?"

He clears his throat and looks at her with assuredness.

"Because SafeDriver and all my assets combined don't even come close to how much you're worth to me."

Christian adjusts his seat, so he is facing Ana head-on. He pulls both her hands into his as his eyes bore into hers with unmistakable certainty.

"I'd waited years to finally have you, and was willing to wait a lifetime if need be. I ripped my family in half, and I'm okay with that. I'd also be fine with losing all of this," he says, gesturing slightly with his head at their surroundings. "I'd be content living in a fucking refrigerator box. But if I ever lost you…"

"Christian." Ana's eyes water, but she widens them to stop the tears.

He clears his throat, not taking his eyes away from her. "I don't ever want to live in a world without you. From the first moment I saw you, I knew I couldn't do that. You split time in two, Ana. There was Before Ana, and now there's Since Ana. There is no after you for me, baby."

Christian presses his lips firmly against the back of Ana's hand, and her heart somersaults. She has never known a love like this, and it has been a shock to her system. After being completely neglected for years, to now, being fanatically worshiped, is giving her a severe case of whiplash.

There is no in between with these Grey boys.

"I told you," Ana pleads softly, "I'm not going anywhere. Why are you so upset about Doug? Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you wholeheartedly. But there are very few who I trust to handle things that belong to me. And when it comes to you, I trust no one. And I damn sure don't trust the likes of Douglas Dorsey."

Ana sighs and shrugs. "We've been over for six years. I have moved on, and I'm certain he has, too."

"He's single."

She groans at his quick response. "Unmarried doesn't imply not having someone."

"He's not seeing anyone."

"Oh my God… Christian," she gasps. "Don't tell me you've been stalking my ex…"

He cuts her off. "It is my job to know everything about anyone who has anything to do with…"

"Fucking SmartDriver…"

"No—you. I've had my eye on Dorsey for years, Ana. Just as I've had my eye on my brother."

The very thought of Christian being well aware of Elliot's deception while Ana stayed in the dark remains a sore subject for her. She lets the bitter thought roll off her back, but not before Christian catches a flash of her sour expression.

"What's wrong?"

Ana is flabbergasted by the loaded question. "Do you even have to ask? This is not normal. You don't—follow people. You let them live and it's no skin off your back unless their actions directly affect you."

"Oh, but they do," Christian counters with an arched brow. "Right now, Elliot is in Paris trying his damnedest to find enough dirt on me to stop our wedding."

"Paris?" Ana gapes. "Since when?"

"Today."

She's beside herself. "What for? Who is he there to see?"

"Elena."

The sound of her name makes Ana's skin crawl. Ana had never met the woman, but if she had, Ana knows it would not be a civil encounter.

…

When Elliot first entered the library of a modest bed-and-breakfast in Montmartre, he was perplexed. He knows for a fact that Elena isn't staying here. The former Mrs. Lincoln is still living good as a result of her ex-husband's flimsy prenup. Based on her settlement, one would think she was the one who was cheated on. Last Elliot heard, Elena's apartment in the eighth district was worth over three million euro.

He'd brought two coffees in paper cups and lids from the living area and placed them on the table in the library before browsing the old battered hardbacks on the weathered shelves. Soon, the woman he came here to see makes a grand entrance. She shed her Chanel suit from earlier and now wears a modest-looking cream blouse and black skirt. But anyone who knows Elena Lincoln knows that there is nothing modest about her. Nothing in her wardrobe is without a high fashion house's name on it.

Elena takes a seat at the faded wood table and pours creamer into the coffee her visitor set aside for her. Elliot saunters over and takes the seat across from her.

"I love Paris," she says in a substitute greeting. "I didn't think I could manage living here year round. It's been what…five years?"

He shrugs. "I don't know your life, lady. I barely know mine."

She briefly frowns before regaining her iron-clad composure. "I miss Seattle, but this is my home now. Still, it's unfortunate that I lost my place in society back there after some asshole spread vicious lies about me. Regardless of what you may have heard, those young men, my partners, they were all at the age of consent."

Elliot's gaze narrows. "How old were they?"

He can tell by the way she shifts in her seat that his question makes her uncomfortable, but she answers anyway.

"A couple of them were seventeen. One had just turned sixteen. That's the relationship giving me the most problems back in the States."

Relationship? Elliot is thrown off, but he lets her continue.

"His father claims my relationship with his son had begun several months before he turned sixteen. That's bullshit," she hisses. "The parents only want to wring my wallet dry and see me rot in prison."

What the fuck, Elliot thinks.

Is she THAT self-unaware?

In a blink of an eye, Elliot decides that Elena Lincoln's severe lack of accountability had no bearing on him. He didn't come all this way to chastise her, as she assumed. He is here for ammunition. Ammunition to break up an engagement. With that in mind, Elliot steers the conversation right where he wants it.

"How old was my brother when you taught him how to fuck?"

Elena turns white, and Elliot grins as if he'd just hit a bullseye. When several beats pass, the color slowly returns, and that color is red. The lady is furious.

"What is your angle, Elliot?" she snaps. "What are you getting at?"

"No angle," he retreats with a muted smirk, holding both hands up in surrender. "Look, I'm only here to get my girl back. Christian took her from me. She's…" He wrestles with the foreign feeling inside of him. Ultimately, he decides to be completely honest with himself for the first time. "She's the love of my life." Elena is taken aback, yet he continues. "I honestly didn't know it at the time. But I do now."

During a thirty second stretch of silence, Elena takes the time to study him thoroughly. Unbeknownst to Elliot, she is searching for true intent underneath his desperate plea. It is impossible to bullshit a bullshitter, her subconscious reminds her.

"I know about it," she says, finally breaking her silence. "It's international news. 'Billionaire gets engaged to brother's ex-fiancée.' Very salacious story that has piqued the world's interest. Not only that, but it's pertaining to one of the most powerful businessmen out there. He's bigger than Seattle and the States, but you'd never know that unless you leave the Washington bubble. Before I came here, he was just—Christian to me. Here, he's an international juggernaut."

Elena takes a drink from the paper cup, holding it in both hands. As she stares into the space just past Elliot's shoulder, her thoughts take her captive for a beat. She speaks it out.

"I'm proud of what he's been able to accomplish in the span of twelve years. I knew he'd take my initial investment and make something great happen. He has and continues to far exceed my high expectations." She clears her throat, signally a change of lanes. "But on the outside looking in, it's as if he's not Christian anymore. I don't know who this man is."

Elliot blinks a dozen times, trying to decipher the meaning behind his mother's old friend's words. He notices an affection in her eyes when she speaks of Christian. Elliot had known she'd helped his brother get his business off the ground back when his parents refused because of him dropping out of Harvard. But there is something much deeper going on. This isn't just some proud mom, concerned mom act, he thinks. This shit runs deep.

The 'head-on' approach hadn't work. Elena still hasn't come clean about the true nature of her relationship with Christian. This time, Elliot decides to give quid pro quo a whirl. I'll share something intimate, and maybe she'll return the favor.

"Ana has never been…sexually adventurous. I've heard about some of the things my brother is supposedly into, and quite honestly, it scares the living shit out of me. I am literally afraid for her."

What he said elicits a scowl from Elena. And for a second, he regrets his new approach. He wonders if he shouldn't have laid it on so thick, so soon. Elena moves her mouth, as if to speak, but then clamps it shut. Her lips purse, and her head wanders all over the place. If Elliot didn't know any better, he'd assume she was paranoid. Taking the cue, he stands, walks over to the open door, and shuts it before reclaiming his seat. Like clockwork, Elena exhales.

"Were either you or your ex in the lifestyle?"

"No," Elliot answers quickly. "No BDSM. Ana is a good girl. She's not into that heavy shit."

Her lips purse tighter in disapproval. "That's what I feared."

"I take it that's your jam? Whips and chains and shit? And you got my brother into it, too?"

She vets her next words carefully before speaking out. "As a teenager, your brother was on a downward spiral. He was angry with no outlet. He needed some way to channel it."

Elliot scoffs. "And what makes you Dr. Phil?"

"I'm a dominatrix, Elliot." He jerks his head back at the explosive admission but lets her continue. "Not only that, but I also train people like me. I've done so for many, many years."

"Did you train Christian?"

"Look," she says sharply. "This conversation never leaves the room—you got that? Do what you have to do to break up this mistake of an engagement, but don't just use what I'm about to tell you as your only source. Your brother will poke holes through everything. You will have to dig deep. Don't be lazy and not do your homework. Because trust me, Christian Grey is doing his."

"How will your information benefit me if you're telling me to dig deeper?" Elliot growls. "Did I waste my time coming here?"

"Not so fast," Elena says with a smirk. "The point is to never take the path directly from A to B. It's too easy to get figured out that way. Make a detour. Go from A, to H, to Y, then to B. Why? Because I am one hundred percent sure Christian has eyes and ears on us right this second. When you return home, he will be ready for you to attack. And the moment you turn the fire hose on at him, he has already re-engineered it to spray back at you. Tell me this, he's already thwarted your attempts, no?"

Elliot doesn't justify her question with a response. Her smirk widens.

"You thought your brother was just a reclusive brainiac with loads of money. You had no idea that his drive for control runs so deep, it will blow your natural mind. What is your ex's name? Anastasia?"

Elliot nods with reluctance, and she continues.

"I'm willing to bet all I have that your brother had his eye on her from the very beginning. She was the perfect persona in his mind's eye." She points to each finger as she names each attribute. "Pale skin. Long brown hair. Blue eyes. Submissive. She checked all the boxes. If you went down the line of every submissive Christian has ever had—They. Look. Just. Like. Her. And she looks just like his birth mother."

She isn't moved by the startled expression on Elliot's face. "You mean to tell me my little brother loves oedipussy?"

Elena scoffs. "I'm sorry, what?"

Elliot shakes his head to kill the subject.

"Christian will think I betrayed him by talking to you today," she says. "But if he knew my heart, he'd understand that I still care for him very much. I'm going to make a deal with you. I'll tell you everything you want to know. In exchange, I need three things. One, help in any way you can to clear my name back home. Two, Christian is not the marrying kind, and as a dear friend, I don't want to see his life destroyed. You need to stop this wedding. And three…"

Elena leans forward at an engaged Elliot to ensure he hears every word. "It's been a while since I've taught a vanilla new tricks." She kicks a high heel forward and rubs her ankle against Elliot's thigh.

He doesn't even flinch. "Me? A vanilla? I don't do ball gags and bondage, but I still get dirty."

"Any objections to spending the night with an older woman?"

Elliot chuckles. "You may be older, but you're still hot. I'd fuck you."

Elena leans back in her chair and takes her foot with her. "Very well. Those are my terms."

In a surprise gesture, Elliot extends his hand across the table. Elena takes it, and the two shake in agreement. As soon as their hands come back, she jumps right into the meat.

"Christian was my prized pupil. There was no other dominant like him. He pleased every woman I ever brought his way."

Elliot's gaze widens. "Wait—you brought women to him?"

"Yes, submissives. Hand-picked and well vetted."

"How many did you bring him over the years?"

"I can't say."

"Was it more than seven?"

"It was higher than that."

"Shit." Elliot shakes his head in disbelief. After all these years, he never really knew his little brother at all. "Did they just stay the night with him?"

She shakes her head. "Each girl he selected entered into an agreement with him."

"Fuck," he murmurs. "The NDA."

"Yes, and the terms of agreement," Elena adds. "The two parties would agree on the nature of their relationship by signing on the dotted line."

"A fucking contract for one night of fucking? That makes no sense."

"No, this is a relationship. A monogamous relationship. They each spell out what they are willing to do, or not do, during the course of the relationship. The submissive usually has to agree to live with Christian from Friday to Sunday."

"I think I heard about that from the stripper."

"It was probably Deanna."

"That's her name?" Elliot frowns. "She wouldn't tell me."

"Christian was disappointed in her for choosing that path. He covered the cost for her to finish college, but she ended up dropping out. Deanna was never a huge fan of perseverance."

"He took care of all of them," he sighs. That's one way to keep mouths closed.

Elena nods. "Even though they've been out of his life for years, he has every one of them on a string. Those girls would never betray him. He has the power to make them disappear." The shocked expression on Elliot's face causes her to backtrack just a little. "You know your brother isn't a murderer. The girls still live a very good life. Better than they would have had they not met him. What I meant is that a few of them are off the grid. Two in particular, you'll never find. Believe me, I've tried. But Christian knows exactly where they are."

"Yeah, he's the one who put them there."

An idea enters Elliot's mind.

He's surveilling me, but I need to turn the tables on him for a change. Maybe I'll catch him or his head of security interacting with these exes who are tucked away. I can make a deal to get these girls out of hiding. Maybe use some of my trust money as the hook.

…

Elliot is the last to enter the dainty looking upstairs bedroom at the bed-and-breakfast. After shutting the door behind him, he realizes that for the first time in ever, he's a bit out of his element. Nervousness isn't something he's used to feeling when alone with a woman. But there is something about this woman in particular that elicits fear.

"Take off all your clothes," the older blonde orders with a stern face. Elliot is hesitant. "Don't worry. We'll both get naked and stick to just plain ol' sex this time. I want to see what I'm working with." She slowly unbuttons her blouse.

He scoffs. "Plain ol' sex? What does that even mean? If you're talking about soft and gentle, I'll pass. A guy likes to fuck rough."

Her laugh startles him. In the decades he's known Mrs. Lincoln, he has never seen her truly laugh. Normally when he makes a woman laugh, he feels proud. But this laugh makes him feel small, like an idiot.

"This is not a scene and there are no roles. That is what I meant by just plain ol' sex. Fuck hard, whatever—just show me what you'd do to any woman you were alone with."

For sure, I can do that, he tells himself.

Ten minutes later, they are both naked on top of the duvet. Elena's head is propped up by two pillows as she watches Elliot down below. His head full of blond hair bobs in between her thighs. Deep breaths and a symphony of sounds can be heard below.

Elliot is confident he's doing his best work as he hums into her clit. This woman is a sexual aficionado, so he knew he had to bring his A-game. She's been around the block a few times, training others on how to give and receive pleasure. He knew this was a test, and once he got started, he was dead set on passing it. His soaring confidence makes him work his neck and tongue a bit more.

Thankfully, he doesn't look up all that much, because if he did, he'd see that the lady is quite bored. Every so often, Elena pretends to be engaged, closing her eyes and giving the impression of pleasure. However, she's not feeling it. She tells herself that this is a complete waste of time. If this were anyone else, she would have flung them off of her and slapped the shit out of them for being so inept to pleasing a woman at their age. In her assessment, he should have made her come three minutes ago. He is too focused on him and how he's doing than to check up on his recipient.

That's not how this works, she thinks with a bitter twist to her mouth. He has so much to learn, but I have no time to teach it to him.

After she fakes an orgasm, Elliot rolls on a condom, bends her yoga-trained legs all the way back until they touch the mattress, and fucks her furiously fast with his eyes tightly closed. The whole time, Elena's eyes are wide open as she rolls them, repeatedly.

Elliot comes hard, falls over to the side, and nods off.

…

His eyes flicker open from the bright light shining from the ensuite. The room would be pitch black otherwise. He sees a sultry silhouette adorned in a fitted dress and pulled up hair, dabbing perfume on her décolletage.

One would never know just by looking at her that this woman is midway to fifty. She practically looks the same as she did twenty years ago. The saying about how evildoers age rapidly obviously missed her. Elliot wonders if feasting on the blood of young men is her secret to immortality.

She had done nothing tonight other than watch and observe. Still, Elliot had the impression that she really had to restrain herself in order not to release her true nature in the bedroom. He was being critiqued, so he brought his best effort to the table. He didn't expect to go full-throttle and poop out like that.

Chalk it up to jetlag, he tells himself.

Everything leading up to me conking out was great.
She was feeling it.
She let me know it with her orgasm.

So, why is she dressed?

He leans over to the nightstand and checks his cell phone. It's after midnight.

"Where are you going?" he asks in a groggy voice.

"I'm going to a BDSM club, for an actual fuck this time."

His eyes narrow in confusion, yet a smirk forms across his lips. "I gave you a real fuck. I fucked you damn good, if I do say so myself."

He must have said something offensive, because Elena spins around in her Manolo Blahnik pumps like a force of nature. She saunters over to the nightstand and turns on the lamp so Elliot can see her good.

"You are no prize in bed, Elliot Grey."

"Excuse me?"

"First of all, I faked coming so you would stop. Not once did you look me in the eye to make sure I was being pleasured. You needed to work my cunt like a marionette. Instead, you treated it like a blind man shampooing someone else's hair."

"What?! Fuck off, lady!"

"You were sloppy and unmethodical. And at close listen, I could have sworn I heard you humming the alphabet song. Who does that?!"

"No!" he scowls vehemently.

"From start to finish, you didn't put my pleasure first. You were too occupied with getting your own rocks off. Fast and hard doesn't mean good. If you're going to fuck the shit out of me, do it right. Make me beg for more. What you were doing, I did not want more of that."

Elliot laughs this time. "You are so full of shit right now. You talk a big game, but you all you did was lay there like a starfish."

She shifts from one heel to the next. "I told you, this was me seeing what you had. And if that's all you got, no wonder Anastasia left you for Christian. Your brother is a choice filet while you're..." she gestures to his body, still naked under the covers. "You're a Big Mac. You may be good at first bite, but in the end, you leave nothing but regret."

Her words leave him enraged. Calling him inept is one thing, but bringing up his ex and pushing him far below his own brother? It's enough to make him spring out of bed naked. Once on his feet, he closes in on her personal space. If anyone were here to witness the level of disdain in his expression as he looked down at Elena, they would surely intervene.

"Get the fuck out of here. You don't know me or what I can do. You just caught me on an off day. I recently landed after a very long flight. At least I don't have to tie a girl up and beat her ass in order to make it good."

"The jetlag excuse," Elena says with mirth. His towering figure doesn't intimidate her in the slightest. "Why don't you come along with me so you can see how I do it? Perhaps you can even learn a thing or two about how to really please a woman. At the very least, you can see some of the things that your ex might be into now."

The thought of Ana going hardcore causes a sinking feeling in Elliot's stomach.

…

(Nearly Two Weeks Later)

Friday seemingly took forever to get here. It's been a rather stressful week at Mylegent for Ana. She's been pulling double duty, on top of dealing with the bittersweet emotions that come with moving on and facing new challenges.

Last Friday, her soon-to-be-former team took her out to lunch to celebrate her promotion as director. Sherrie, April, and Mike were among those wishing her well on her newest endeavor. Since April is dating Doren, she let it slip to her boyfriend that they were having a farewell luncheon for Ana. So Doren, Tammy, Noah, and Isa crashed the party.

Last Friday was a fun time.

This Friday left much to be desired.

On Monday, she came to work, raring to go. Her things were moved to a new office. Now, she had a window. Her last office was a converted closet, so she had no concept of time while working hard in there. Christian would often have to call to remind her of their plans for that night. With a view of downtown Seattle right in front of her, it would be difficult to lose track of time now.

After taking an hour and a half to set up her new office, she met with her old boss, Marsha, to sift through resumes for Ana's replacement. There were still meetings for the old job she had to tend to. But after lunch that day, she had to attend a meeting for her new role. She would have to face Doug again.

Even after four days of attending the same meetings, Ana still hasn't gotten used to working alongside her ex. When Christian stopped asking her about him on Wednesday, she knew that wasn't a good thing. It was a sign that her fiancé definitely had something up his sleeve. Whatever it was, she hoped not to be blindsided.

Ana enters the conference room for the SafeDriver IT update five minutes before one o'clock. She takes a seat in the middle of the boat-shaped table, sitting across another female director. The woman congratulates Ana on her promotion, and the two catch up. As a group of attendees file in, Doug is among them. He takes a seat next to Ana.

"So, one week as director," he smiles. "How does it feel?"

Ana shrugs. "I don't quite know yet. I'm still doing my old job, so nothing has really changed for me."

"Well, I hope they backfill your previous role quickly."

"Me, too. How's your first week been at Mylegent? Do you miss your firm in California?"

"It's been great here," Doug beams. I actually got to spend time with Don Richards."

"Really? That's great," Ana smiles back. "He's a good guy and a great leader."

"He kind of reminds me of Tom Hanks a little. You don't see it at first, but he has certain um…mannerisms. I can't describe it…"

Ana's nose wrinkles, unable to see the correlation. "No way. Really?" She watches as all the surrounding chairs become occupied.

"You have to look a little deeper. I got a 'League of Their Own' Tom Hanks vibe from him. He doesn't yell at women or anything like that, but he has this way of pushing you to do your best."

"I can see that," Ana nods.

"Hey, remember John from college?"

Her eyes widen fondly. "Of course. You two were best friends."

"Still are," he nods. "The three of us and Kate, we had so much fun together back then. How is Kavanagh doing these days?"

Ana's smile wipes clean off. "We aren't really speaking."

"Wow," Doug gasps. "I guess it's harder for girls to stay friends than it is for guys, huh?"

She can only shrug in response. It's a topic she doesn't feel like getting into.

"Well, anyway, John misses you."

"Aww," she coos. "Tell him I said hello."

"I will. He always liked you for me. He will never let me hear the end of it. Says I screwed up a good thing."

Ana is stunned, but she quickly composes herself when President Don Richards enters the room. But coming in behind him is Christian, so her shock returns. He didn't tell me he was coming here this afternoon, she thinks.

"Christian Grey, huh," Doug murmurs. "I guess we'll be working with him a lot, being that SmartDriver is his brainchild."

Ana is so enamored by the model-esque man in the custom-fitted suit, that she misses Doug's statement entirely. It never ceases to amaze her that a man she lives with day in and day out can stir up these intense feelings. They are just fifteen feet apart in proximity, yet their distance brings about such longing in her. This is the first opportunity she will truly get to experience Christian Grey, the mogul.

Don Richards takes a seat at the head of the table, with Christian settling to his right. As Don leans toward Christian to speak something in private, the latter's line-of-sight shoots straight down the table. He locks eyes with his fiancée, who frowns playfully. Thanks for the heads up, Grey. Christian's eyes narrow to the point of being deadly when he spots the man sitting next to her. Ana freezes, but the tension between them dissipates the moment Richards starts the meeting.

Mylegent's IT department proceeds to update everyone on the status of their technology exchange with GEH. Barney, Christian's top tech guy, is on the phone along with two other members of his team. Every so often, Don and his management team interject with questions. Christian, along with his team on the phone, do a fine job in explaining the nuances of their tech and how to best integrate it with Mylegent's current system.

Ana is fully engaged and is feverishly taking notes. For the first time, she has a front-row seat to witness firsthand why Christian Grey and his company are at the top of their game. She already knew as much, but seeing it play out in a business setting is a sight to behold. It is such a turn-on for her, that she has to remind herself she and Christian are working. Despite this, she looks forward to dinner tonight, so she has the opportunity to pick Christian's brain a little more about some of the things he spoke about in this meeting.

Mylegent's research head takes the floor, spouting out the latest statistics. An alarming slide projecting on the screen shows the uptick of traffic and subsequent collisions in large cities in the States, including Seattle. It's enough to set Don Richards off on a monologue.

"This is a huge problem. We need SmartDriver," he says.

Doug leans over to whisper to Ana. "Houston, we have a problem." Ana snorts as he continues. "Tell me he doesn't remind you of Tom Hanks now."

Ana lowers her head and covers her mouth to laugh. Christian so happens to look up and see her at that moment. If anyone else were observing Ana and Doug, they'd probably see two colleagues quietly sharing a private joke. But the only thing the most powerful man in the room can see is red. He balls his fists tight under the table.

If that fucker lays a finger on her, I will turn over this table, he stews.

When Christian initially aired his grievance two weeks ago concerning Mylegent's latest external hire, Richards had assured him that Dorsey's background was checked thoroughly, then checked again. For them, Doug Dorsey was hands down the best man for the job. Christian would not spill the true nature of his disapproval. Richards didn't need to know that it was personal.

Over the past week and a half, Christian had tried coaching himself off the ledge regarding Ana working side by side with her ex. He has probably done more deep breathing exercises than ever before. Just the thought of Doug working near her is enough to induce rage. But actually seeing the source of his ire right before his eyes, leaning into his fiancée and making her smile and laugh, makes him feel homicidal.

Stay cool, Grey. No need to cause a scene.

You've always had a steady hand.

Never let 'em see it coming.

When Ana shifts her focus back over to a speaking Don, she can't help but notice the scowl on Christian's face as he looks down at his open leather-bound notebook. She closes her eyes and sighs. She prepares herself for the earful she'll receive after this is all done.

After one hour, the meeting adjourns. The cacophony of sliding chairs, shuffling paper, and colleagues conversing fill the room. As Ana gathers her belongings, Doug taps her on the shoulder. She turns to face him.

"Hey, can we meet this afternoon to talk about a developing training plan for SmartDriver?"

Before she can answer, she's interrupted by another shoulder tap. Doug looks at the intimidating figure standing next to Ana in surprise, wondering how he could walk back here so fast.

"Miss Steele."

Jesus, Ana groans within. She knows there is something else laced in that monotone greeting. She turns to her fiancé with a smirk. "Mr. Grey."

"Who's your new colleague over here?" The expression on Christian's face is likened to a cat tossing a ball of yarn from one paw to the next.

Ana humors him. "This is Doug Dorsey, another brand-new director with the team." She turns to Doug. "Doug, meet Christian Grey."

Doug winces in surprise, then quickly recuperates. When he extends for a handshake, Christian doesn't bother looking down, nor does he reciprocate. Doug is thrown off by the shade.

"Um, hello. Great to meet you. I've admired your conservation work over the years," praises Doug.

Christian turns away from Doug without responding and looks directly into Ana's wide eyes. "Can we speak privately for a moment?"

Ana opens her mouth to talk, but nothing comes out of it. She is taken aback by how rudely Christian is behaving. Doug takes the hint.

"Ana, we'll catch up later. Again, nice meeting you, Mr. Grey." He nods, then walks away.

"The fuck you will catch up," Christian growls.

A gasp sounds out of Ana's mouth, which has been wide open ever since Christian refused to shake hands with Doug. In this moment, she cannot articulate how upset she is. Christian waits a little while longer as meeting attendees continue to trickle out of the room. Don Richards breaks free from his four-man impromptu powwow up front to join Christian and Ana in the middle of the room.

"Ana!" Don greets the future Mrs. Grey with a hug. "Good seeing you! I hope we didn't bore you to death in your first joint SmartDriver update meeting."

She forces the lump of agitation down her throat to respond kindly to the president. "No, not at all. It was very informative. I'm happy to be a part of this."

"Good," Don beams. "We are so glad to have you here on the team." He claps Christian on the shoulder. "Don't let this man scare you. We don't bite in here."

"Speak for yourself," Christian says with a devious smirk. Don laughs, and Ana rolls her eyes with the utmost contempt.

"We'll talk later, Grey. And Ana, again, it was great seeing you. Marcy misses you, by the way. We all should do brunch again soon."

"Of course," Ana says adamantly. "Tell her to bring that scarf she's been knitting for the past year next time so I can show her how to finally finish it."

"I will do that."

Don bids the engaged couple a farewell, and Christian's eyes shoot to the two men still lingering in front of the room. One of them was about to start on a brand-new harangue until he sees the CEO of GEH burning a hole in his forehead. The men quickly take the hint and clear the room, shutting the door behind them.

Ana unleashes.

"What was that?!"

"You tell me," he growls back.

"You were so rude…"

"I know you're still new to this, but you're no longer a call center manager. You are a director now, so you should act like it."

"Excuse me?! How dare you…"

"I saw you giggling and carrying on with Dorsey. These meetings may not mean much to you, but they are important."

Ana flings open her notebook and practically shoves it in his face. "See! I've taken notes! I even have questions I was going to ask you about tonight. What is wrong with you!"

"Doug Dorsey, that's what."

"Jesus, Christian! Come on! I thought we settled this. Why is this now a problem again?"

"We settled nothing, Ana. I want him gone. Period."

"Gaaaahhh!" she roars in frustration. "He's actually been quite nice to work with, and extremely professional. I don't get why you're making such a big deal out of this. He's able to put the past aside and do his job, and so am I."

With gray eyes full of contempt, Christian squares his shoulders. "I'm sorry, what part of 'the two of you used to fuck' aren't you getting? I don't give a shit how professional he seems. He's a man, Ana. A man never forgets."

Ana is beside herself. "Unbelievable," she grumbles.

"I'd never do this—but let's just say, hypothetically. How would you feel if I hired my exes to work alongside me?"

Her eyes and mouth widen, and she tilts her head sideways. The question is appalling.

"I'm waiting on your answer," he taunts in an indistinct voice.

"Sir?"

The male voice coming out of the speakerphone startles both Christian and Ana.

"Mr. Grey, it's just me. Barney. Sorry, I forgot to hang up."

Ana's cheeks redden with embarrassment, and her hands fly up to cover her face.

…

A knock at the door takes Ana's eyes off her laptop. Without waiting for permission, Doug walks into her office and shuts the door behind him. He takes a seat on the other side of her desk. The first thing he sees is a framed photograph of Ana and Christian Grey hugging in front of a massive beach house near beautiful blue waters. Doug picks up the photo to get a closer look.

"Where is this? It's beautiful."

"Maui," Ana answers. "At our house. Well, one of them."

In this moment, she longs to be there. She'd rather be doing all the things she and Christian enjoy, versus fighting. The thought of their current state makes her chest ache. Doug being alone in her presence is a sore reminder that her future husband would not approve of this whatsoever.

"I'll admit, I don't keep up with the gossip columns. I had no idea until someone told me this afternoon that you were engaged to him."

Ana finds that hard to believe. Her business has been everywhere. How could he not have heard? Still, she shrugs it off.

"I also heard you were engaged to his brother."

Ana bites down, not feeling up to filling in her ex about her scandalous love life. Doug doesn't take the hint.

"That's gotta be super awkward. I mean, how does that even work?"

"You know Doug, I really don't feel like discussing this here."

"Touchy subject?"

"To say the least."

"I get it. Hey… You are a knockout, Ana. No wonder Christian Grey snatched you up when his brother was too dumb to see how good he had it. Hell, I can relate. I had a really good thing back in college, yet I was too young and stupid to see it."

Ana freezes in place.

"I mean that. If I could do it all over again, I wouldn't have let you go. Since we broke up, I've been striking out in the love department left and right. No matter who it is, I'm just not connecting with them. To be honest, nobody measures up to you."

To say that Ana feels awkward would be a severe understatement.

"Look, I know our relationship is old news. You've moved on in a major way. I just hope you can forgive me for being such a jackass."

"It's not a big deal, Doug. It was a long time ago."

Had they had this conversation three years ago, Ana's wounds would have still been fresh. But Christian had done such a bang-up job in cleaning up her exes' messes that she'd forgotten what it felt like to be brokenhearted.

"We're colleagues now, but I hope we can become good friends again. We've known each other for years. And just as you were in college, you're a rock star here at Mylegent. Even though we are on the same level, I hope you would consider being a mentor to me."

Ana is speechless. "Wow… Doug..."

"Don't say no just yet. How about we talk more about it over coffee next week. Deal?"

…

Friday date night had been so tense, Ana was unsure if either of them would be in the mood for their usual ritual when they got home. They held hands throughout the movie, and Christian would regularly press hers to his mouth to kiss it. Still, there was a distant look in his eyes that wouldn't leave all night.

This Doug thing was really bothering him to the point that it started to bother Ana. And to top it off, when Doug met her in her office today, he said certain things that almost validated Christian's concerns.

As they left the theater, Ana pulled on Christian's arm and said, "If you want Doug gone, I understand. Just be sure he lands on his feet. No demotion. No pay cut."

Christian closed his eyes and exhaled. That would be as good as a response as she would get. She didn't need to know what he had up his sleeve. He would take care of it his way.

When they returned home, Ana decided to unwind the ball of stress in her belly in the library by re-reading her favorite passage in one of her favorite books. The sound of her buzzing phone snatches her out of revelry and into the here and now. A text message.

Christian: It's time. Meet me in our bedroom.

I guess that answers THAT question, she thinks. A smile teases her lips as she stands to put the book away. This is exactly what we need—to reconnect OUR way.

As Ana heads towards the master suite, Christian meets her halfway. She looks down and notices that he's holding a red suede pouch with tan braided rope as the drawstring. Now out of his suit from earlier, he is barefoot and wearing a gray t-shirt and faded jeans. Ana immediately thinks to herself that this man is illogically perfect. Whether he's in a bespoke suit five days a week, or lounging around the house in jeans, he always looks sensational.

Still in her jeans and sweater that she'd been in all day, she suddenly feels overdressed. That's resolved as soon as the two are in the bedroom and Christian shuts the door behind them.

"Take off your clothes," he commands. "Slowly." Usually, Ana could spot a semblance of mirth on his lips. But right now, in this moment, there is no sign of amusement.

Once she is completely naked, Christian opens the pouch and takes out a low-cut diamond necklace. It's the most beautiful necklace Ana has ever seen.

"Christian…"

"I figured we just try this one. It's valued at fifty million dollars," he says nonchalantly.

Ana nearly stumbles to the floor as he brings it closer.

"Fifty million?!" she gapes. "That doesn't make any sense! That's a complete waste of money! Why would you…"

He presses a finger to her lips. "Shhh. You're going to have to stop doing that every time we go through this. This isn't going to end, so you need to quit being surprised."

When he removes his finger, it doesn't stop her from being dumbstruck.

"Christian. Fifty million? That is insane. Do you know what this money would do for certain small countries who truly need it?"

"I've given that, and more," he assures her.

"Jeez…"

She freezes when he steps behind her naked body and drapes the extremely pricey gem around her neck.

"This is way too much," she whispers, knowing very well that Christian doesn't care.

He steps back into her line of sight and pulls out something else. A wand-like contraption riddled with gemstones.

"Wha…what is that?"

"A vibrator," he says plainly.

"Oh?" She can't hide her oncoming smile.

He nods. "One million."

She has an immediate knee-jerk reaction. "Fuck, Christian!"

"That is the point," he answers with a straight face."

"Wha—why?!"

He reaches behind her, slaps her ass hard, and she yelps.

"Get ahold of yourself, Miss Steele," he orders. "You knew what this was when you agreed to marry me. We do things insanely big here, baby. I spare no expense. And believe me when I tell you that the thought of you stark naked and making that fifty million dollar necklace jingle around your neck while I fuck you in our bed with this million-dollar vibrator makes me so fucking hard right now," he says through clenched teeth.

"Oh," she chokes.

"Yeah. Oh."

For the first time all day, he smiles, and it's all the reassurance Ana needs. She has to remind herself regularly that Christian Grey is not a regular man. He's a multi-billionaire with very expensive tastes, both out in the world and inside the bedroom. She will have to come to grips with that, eventually.

Ana reaches out for him, but Christian quickly steps back. She flinches as if being slapped. Had she blinked again, she would have missed a single flash of compassion, letting her know that her Christian is still in there. He's playing a game now, she tells herself. With that in mind, she squares her shoulders and adjusts her arms flat on her sides. She points her chin up towards him.

"Now," he murmurs, "get in bed."

Twenty minutes later, she finds herself tied to the bed with rope the same tan color as the drawstring on that velvet pouch. Each limb is stretched nearly to capacity. Still fully dressed, Christian teases her with the solid platinum bejeweled wand, moving it down her breasts and to her stomach. Panting hard, she moans.

"Beautiful," he murmurs. "So, so beautiful. And so mine."

"Yours," she says, reassuring him.

"Say it again," he orders.

"Yours. I'm yours—all yours."

With that, he presses the vibrator to her clit, and she buckles.

"Fuck!"

"Mmm hmm," he taunts. "A little intense?"

Ana can only answer with a loud moan. When he responds by sticking the cool, slick tip at her entrance, she gasps.

He crouches up so she can see him. "He-who-will-never-be-mentioned-in-this-bedroom can't ever have this back. God knows he wants it. Bad."

Her big blue eyes stare wide into his fiery grays. He tilts his head sideways.

"Wait, you didn't know?"

"Huh?" Ana barely gets the word out through her heaving chest. She wishes she could see his face, but she is bound.

"He's had his eye on you ever since he saw us arm in arm on the internet at the last big charity gala we attended. He obviously liked what he saw. A stronger, more confident Ana than the one he knew back in college. He saw that the new Ana looked delicious in expensive, tight-fitting gowns. It was enough to make him pack up his shit and bring his ass back to Washington. He knew you were up for the director job, and he knew he'd be a shoo-in for the other. He's banking on your nostalgia to kick in. His plan? To keep reminiscing about the good old days, hoping you would yearn to have them back."

Before Ana can respond, he drops back down in between her sprawled thighs and sticks the vibrator deep inside of her. She throws her head back with a shout. He lets her get used to the feeling first before he thrusts it in and out of her repeatedly.

"What he doesn't know—the 'good old days' he knew have been replaced with this…"

He jerks it harder, and Ana's hips levitate from the bed. The combination of pain and pleasure is multiplied by the fact she can't move her arms and legs. The sound of the clinking diamonds on her neck sound like wind chimes in a violent storm.

"Those days pale in comparison now, don't they?"

"Christian!"

"That's my name on your lips," he growls, "not his. And he needs to know that. We will tell him."

"Oh yes! Oh my God! Fuck me, Christian! Please! Take what's yours!"

Ana nearly rips the bed apart after hearing the sound of Christian throwing the million-dollar vibrator across the room. Before she can chastise him about it, he's deftly slicing away the rope from her ankles with a pocketknife. Ana kicks her legs free as she watches him on the floor, stripping down to nothing.

Once he is back in bed, he bends her legs until her thighs are firmly pressed against her breasts and the necklace. Holding her steady, he thrusts inside of her, granting her deepest wish.

…

For the past two weeks, something Elena said continued to echo in the chambers of Elliot's mind.

"You had no idea that his drive for control runs so deep, it would blow your natural mind."

Those words haunted him so much, that he had an old friend meet him at a bar. She was a Latina waitress he flirted with in front of then-girlfriend, Ana, a while back. That flirting soon turned into fucking. Repeatedly.

The beautiful young woman spots Elliot sitting alone at one of the high-top tables near the bar. She's happy to see him. Before she can give him a hug, he wards her off with an outstretched hand and urges her to take a seat. She's taken aback by the cold greeting.

She proceeds to ask him what his problem is in Spanish, and he jumps right into it, responding in her native tongue.

"I saw the BMW you just parked. Who got it for you?"

When she immediately turns into stone, Elliot desperately wants to explode and scream so many things at her. Instead, he holds his breath, closes his eyes, and counts to three. When he's back with her, he pleads for her honesty.

"My brother destroyed me, Marisol. I need you to tell me if he had anything to do with that BMW. Did he pay you to seduce me?"

Thick droplets of tears fall down the sides of her cheeks. An admission of guilt.

"I don't know if it was him," she whispers in a shaky voice. "It was a muscular man in a suit. He had a buzz cut and wasn't all that friendly."

"Taylor—fuck!" Elliot stops just short of letting his tight fist hit the table.

"I needed the money for Papa," Marisol pleads. "You knew he was sick. We couldn't afford the medicine."

"You fucking let my brother buy you!"

"I didn't know it was your brother…"

"You didn't care! As long as you got paid! When you saw I had a girlfriend, you wanted nothing to do with me. Then suddenly, I get a phone call from you saying you changed your mind!"

"How am I the bad guy now?! You cheated, not me!"

Elliot blinks when Marisol switches from Spanish to crystal clear English.

"And whether it was with me or someone else, you were still going to cheat!" she sobs. "Hell, you tried to cheat with me that same night you brought your girlfriend to the restaurant!"

"You should have told me about the deal you made."

"You got what you wanted," she hisses. "I gave you sex. What's so wrong with helping my family in the process?"

Elliot place both hands firmly on the table, then leans forward to look her directly in the eye.

"Was that BMW part of helping the family? I call bullshit. You're nothing but a high-priced whore, Marisol. Not only did you destroy a relationship, but you put lives in danger. I hope you're happy."

With contempt riddled all over his face, he stands and slams down a twenty-dollar bill on the table before turning to leave. He doesn't bother looking back when Marisol calls out behind him.

"Wait—what do you mean in danger?"

A/N: Faithful readers! Thank you for being so patient with me. Since the last update, I've completed two books and I'm working on the next. I have another tight deadline, so it will be at least a month before I can update chapter 18.

I will say that I am looking forward to the next chapter. It is some scandalous ass shit, haha! Spoiler…Mr. Grey will get the upper hand with an ex of Ana's. No surprise.

Right now, I'm still aiming to finish this story in the next three chapters, but I may have to slide one more in there. We will see! I promise that AMT will conclude before the end of the year. I need to finish this so we can all move on with our lives, haha!

Oh, make sure you read Family Business before it comes down in July. I will be turning that into an original series that will publish in November and December. Also, if you are in my Storie Tells All FB group, I'm having a giveaway for one of my books based on this chapter!

Thank you so much for sticking with AMT! Until next time.

- TK (aka storietella2)