Darker

  "I wish you'd never gone to work this morning."

  "Me, too. But I am busy. Hang up."

  "You hang up." I grin.

  "We've been here before," she says in that teasing tone she has.

  "You're biting your lip."

  She inhales, quickly.

  "You see, you think I don't know you, Anastasia. But I know you better than you think."

  "Christian, I'll talk to you later. Right now, I really wish I hadn't left this morning, too."

  "I'll wait for your e-mail, Miss Steele."

  "Good day, Mr. Grey."

  She hangs up as the elevator doors open.

  BY 3:45 I'M BACK in my office. The mayor's visit was a success and a PR windfall for GEH. Andrea buzzes me.

  "Yes?"

  "I have Mia Grey on the line for you."

  "Put her through."

  "Christian?"

  "Hi."

  "We're having a party for your birthday on Saturday and I want to invite Anastasia."

  "Whatever happened to 'Hello? How are you?' "

  Mia makes a dismissive noise. "Spare me one of your lectures, big brother."

  "I'm busy on Saturday."

  "Cancel it. It's happening."

  "Mia!"

  "No ifs or buts. What's Ana's number?"

  I sigh and stay silent.

  "Christian!" she shouts down the phone.

  Jesus. "I'll text it to you."

  "No bailing. You'll disappoint Mom and Dad and me and Elliot!"

  I sigh. "Whatever, Mia."

  "Great! See you then. Bye." She hangs up and I stare at the phone with frustrated amusement. My sister is a pain in the ass. I hate birthdays. Well, my birthday. Reluctantly, I text Mia Ana's number, knowing that I'm unleashing the force that is my little sister on an unsuspecting victim.

  I go back to reading a report.

  When I finish, I check my e-mail and there's one from Ana.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: Antediluvian

  Date: June 15 2011 16:11

  To: Christian Grey

  Dear Mr. Grey

  When, exactly, were you going to tell me?

  What shall I get my old man for his birthday?

  Perhaps some new batteries for his hearing aid?

  A x

  Anastasia Steele

  Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP

  Mia is as good as her word. She hasn't wasted any time. I have some fun with my response.

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Prehistoric

  Date: June 15 2011 16:20

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Don't mock the elderly.

  Glad you are alive and kicking.

  And that Mia has been in touch.

  Batteries are always useful.

  I don't like celebrating my birthday.

  x

  Christian Grey

  Deaf as a Post CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: Hmmm.

  Date: June 15 2011 16:24

  To: Christian Grey

  Dear Mr. Grey

  I can imagine you pouting as you wrote that last sentence.

  That does things to me.

  A xox

  Anastasia Steele

  Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP

  Her reply makes me laugh out loud, but what do I have to do to make her use her phone?

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Rolling Eyes

  Date: June 15 2011 16:29

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Miss Steele

  WILL YOU USE YOUR BLACKBERRY!!!

  x

  Christian Grey

  Twitchy Palmed CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  I await her answer. It does not disappoint.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: Inspiration

  Date: June 15 2011 16:33

  To: Christian Grey

  Dear Mr. Grey

  Ah...your twitchy palms can't stay still for long, can they?

  I wonder what Dr. Flynn would say about that?

  But now I know what to give you for your birthday--and I hope it makes me sore...

  ;)

  A x

  Finally, she's using her phone. And she wants to be sore. My mind goes into overdrive imagining the possibilities this presents.

  I shift in my seat as I type my response.

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Angina

  Date: June 15 2011 16:38

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Miss Steele

  I don't think my heart could stand the strain of another e-mail like that, or my pants for that matter.

  Behave.

  x

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Steele

  Subject: Trying

  Date: June 15 2011 16:42

  To: Christian Grey

  Christian

  I am trying to work for my very trying boss.

  Please stop bothering me and being trying yourself.

  Your last e-mail nearly made me combust.

  x

  P.S.: Can you pick me up at 6:30?

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: I'll Be There

  Date: June 15 2011 16:47

  To: Anastasia Steele

  Nothing would give me greater pleasure.

  Actually, I can think of any number of things that would give me greater pleasure, and they all involve you.

  x

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  TAYLOR AND I PULL up outside her office at 6:27. I should only have a few minutes to wait.

  I wonder if she's had any thoughts about my proposal. Of course, she needs to talk to Flynn first. Perhaps he'll tell her not to be a fool. The thought depresses me. I wonder if our days are numbered. But she knows the worst and she's still here. I think there's room for hope. I check my watch--6:38--and stare at the door of her office building.

  Where is she?

  Suddenly she's in the street, the door swinging behind her. But she doesn't head toward the car.

  What gives?

  She stops, looks around, and slowly sinks to the ground.

  Fuck.

  I open the car door and notice out of the corner of my eye that Taylor is doing the same.

  We both rush to Ana, who is sitting on the sidewalk, looking faint. I sink down beside her. "Ana, Ana! What's wrong?" I pull her into my lap to check what's wrong, holding her head between my hands. She closes her eyes and sags against me as if in relief. "Ana." I grasp her arms and shake her. "What's wrong? Are you sick?"

  "Jack," she whispers.

  "Fuck." Adrenaline sweeps through my body, leaving a murderous fury in its wake. I glance up at Taylor. He nods and disappears into the building. "What did that sleazeball do to you?"

  Ana giggles. "It's what I did to him." And she doesn't stop laughing. She's hysterical. I'm going to kill him.

  "Ana!" I give her a shake. "Did he touch you?"

  "Only once," she whispers, and her giggling stops.

  Rage fuels my muscles as I stand holding her in my arms. "Where is that fucker?" From inside the building we can hear muffled shouts. I set Ana on her feet. "Can you stand?"

  She nods. "Don't go in. Don't, Christian."

  "Get in the car."

  "Christian, no." She clasps my arm.

  "Get in the goddamned car, Ana."

  I'm going to kill him.

  "No! Please!" she begs. "Stay. Don't leave me on my own."

  I drag my hand through my hair, trying and failing to hang on to my temper while the muffled shouting inside SIP intensifies. Abruptly it stops.

  I pull ou
t my phone.

  "Christian, he has my e-mails," Ana says in a whisper.

  "What?"

  "My e-mails to you. He wanted to know where your e-mails to me were. He was trying to blackmail me."

  I think I'm going to have a coronary.

  That motherfucking asshole.

  "Fuck!" I growl, as I call Barney.

  "Hello--"

  "Barney. Grey. I need you to access the SIP main server and wipe all Anastasia Steele's e-mails to me. Then access the personal data files of Jack Hyde and check they aren't stored there. If they are, wipe them."

  "Hyde? H.Y.D.E."

  "Yes."

  "All of them?"

  "All of them. Now. Let me know when it's done."

  "Will do."

  I hang up and dial Roach's number.

  "Jerry Roach."

  "Roach. Grey."

  "Good evening--"

  "Hyde. I want him out. Now."

  "But--" Roach blusters.

  "This minute. Call security. Get him to clear his desk immediately or I will liquidate this company first thing in the morning."

  "Is there a reason--" Roach tries again.

  "You already have all the justification you need to give him his pink slip."

  "You've read his confidential file?"

  I ignore his question. "Do you understand?"

  "Mr. Grey, I completely understand. Our HR director is always defending him. I'll see to it. Good evening."

  I hang up, feeling somewhat mollified, and turn to Ana. "BlackBerry!"

  "Please don't be mad at me."

  "I am so mad at you right now," I snap. "Get in the car."

  "Christian, please--"

  "Get in the fucking car, Anastasia, or so help me I'll put you in there myself."

  "Don't do anything stupid, please," she says.

  "Stupid!" I see red. "I told you to use your fucking BlackBerry. Don't talk to me about stupid. Get in the motherfucking car, Anastasia--now!"

  "Okay." She holds up her hands. "But, please, be careful."

  Stop shouting at her, Grey.

  I point to the car.

  "Please be careful," she whispers, again. "I don't want anything to happen to you. It would kill me."

  And there it is. She cares. Her affection for me is plain in her words and in her kind, concerned expression.

  Calm down, Grey. I take a deep breath.

  "I'll be careful," I say, and I watch her walk to the Audi and climb in. Once she's in the car, I turn on my heel and stride into the building.

  I have no idea where to go, but I follow Hyde's voice.

  His irritating, whiny voice.

  Taylor is standing outside an executive office, beside what must be Ana's desk. Inside, Hyde is on the phone and a security guard stands over him with his arms crossed.

  "I don't give a fuck, Jerry." Hyde is protesting into the phone. "The woman is a pricktease."

  I've heard enough.

  I storm into his office.

  "What the--" Hyde says, shocked to see me. He has a cut over his left eye and a purplish bruise is forming on his cheek. I suspect Taylor has been administering his own brand of discipline. I reach down to the phone cradle and press the hook, ending his call.

  "Well, look what the fucking cat dragged in," Hyde says and sneers. "The boy fucking wonder."

  "Pack your things. Get out. And she may not press charges."

  "Fuck you, Grey. I'll be pressing charges against that little bitch, for kicking me in the balls in a completely unprovoked attack--and I'll be sending your goon here down for assault, too. Hi, handsome," he calls to Taylor, and blows him a kiss.

  Taylor remains stoic.

  "I won't tell you again," I state, glaring at the cocksucker.

  "Like I said, fuck you. You can't come in here throwing your fucking weight around."

  "I own this company. You are surplus to requirements. Get out while you can still walk." My tone is low.

  The color drains from Hyde's face.

  Yeah. Mine. Fuck you, Hyde.

  "I knew it. I knew something shady was going on. That little bitch your spy?"

  "If you mention Anastasia once more, if you even think about her, if you even think about thinking about her, I will end you."

  His eyes narrow. "You like it when she kicks you in the balls?"

  I hit him square on the nose and he topples backward and smacks his head on the shelves behind him before he slumps onto the floor.

  "You mentioned her. Get up. Clear your desk. And get out. You're fired."

  Blood is pouring from his nose.

  Taylor steps into his office with a box of tissues and places them on the desk for Hyde.

  "You saw him," Hyde whines to the security guard.

  "I saw you fall," the security guard says. The name on his badge is M. Mathur. Good job.

  Hyde struggles onto his feet and grabs a handful of tissues to stem his nosebleed. "I'm pressing charges. She attacked me." Hyde continues to snivel, but he begins to put his belongings in the box.

  "Three hushed-up harassment cases in New York and Chicago and the two warnings you've had here. I don't think you'd get very far."

  He regards me with dark eyes and unadulterated, feral hatred.

  "Pack your things. You're done," I spit.

  Turning, I head out of his office to wait with Taylor while Hyde packs up his stuff. I need to distance myself.

  I want to kill him.

  He takes forever, but he does it in silence. He's mad. Real mad. I can almost smell his blood boiling. He gives me the occasional poisonous glance, but I remain impassive. The sight of his messed-up face gives me some satisfaction.

  Eventually he's done and he picks up the box. Mathur follows him out of the building.

  "Are we finished here, Mr. Grey?" Taylor asks.

  "For now."

  "I found him groveling on the floor, sir."

  "Really?"

  "Miss Steele appears to know how to defend herself."

  "She's always full of surprises. Let's go."

  We follow Hyde out of the building and both of us head to the Audi. Because Ana is already in the front seat, Taylor gives me the key and I slide into the driver's seat. Taylor gets into the back.

  Ana is quiet as I pull out into the traffic.

  I don't know what to say to her.

  The car phone rings.

  "Grey," I answer.

  "Mr. Grey, Barney here."

  "Barney, I'm on speakerphone, and there are others in the car."

  "Sir, it's all done. But I need to talk to you about what else I found on Mr. Hyde's computer."

  "I'll call you when I reach my destination. And thanks, Barney."

  "No problem, Mr. Grey." He hangs up and I stop at a red light.

  "Are you talking to me?" Ana asks.

  I glance at her. "No," I mutter. I'm still too mad. I told her he was trouble. And I told her to use her phone for e-mail. I was right about everything. I feel vindicated.

  Grey, grow up, you're behaving like a child.

  Flynn's words circle my brain. I've long held the belief that you never really had an adolescence--emotionally speaking. I think you're experiencing it now.

  I glance across at her in the hope I can say something amusing, but she's staring out of the window. I'll wait until we get home.

  OUTSIDE ESCALA, I OPEN Ana's car door while Taylor climbs into the driver's seat.

  "Come," I say, and she takes my hand.

  While we wait for the elevator, Ana whispers, "Christian, why are you so mad at me?"

  "You know why."

  As we enter the elevator, I punch the code into the keypad. "God, if something had happened to you, he'd be dead by now. As it is, I'm going to ruin his career so he can't take advantage of young women anymore, miserable excuse for a man that he is." If anything had happened to her...Leila yesterday. Hyde today. Hell.

  Slowly she sinks her teeth into her lower lip while staring at me.


  "Jesus, Ana!" I pull her to me and twist so that she's pinned in the corner of the elevator. Tugging her hair, upturning her face, I capture her lips with mine and pour my fear and desperation into my kiss. Her hands grasp my biceps as she returns my kiss, her tongue seeking mine. I pull back and we're both breathless. "If anything had happened to you. If he'd harmed you--" I shudder. "BlackBerry. From now on. Understand?"

  She nods, her expression earnest, and I straighten up and release her. "He said you kicked him in the balls."

  "Yes."

  "Good."

  "Ray is ex-Army. He taught me well."

  "I'm very glad he did. I'll need to remember that." As we exit the elevator, I take her hand and we walk through the foyer and into the living room. Mrs. Jones is in the kitchen cooking. It smells good.

  "I need to call Barney. I won't be long."

  Sitting down at my desk, I pick up the phone.

  "Mr. Grey."

  "Barney, what did you find on Hyde's computer?"

  "Well, sir, it was a little unsettling. There are articles and photographs of you, your mom and dad, and your brother and sister, all stored in one folder called 'Greys.' "

  "That's odd."

  "That's what I thought."

  "Could you send me what he has?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "And keep this between us for now."

  "Will do, Mr. Grey."

  "Thanks, Barney. And go home."

  "Yes, sir."

  Barney's e-mail arrives almost immediately, and I open the "Greys" folder. Sure enough, there are online articles about my parents and their charitable work; articles on me, my company, Charlie Tango and the Gulfstream; and photographs of Elliot, my parents, and me taken, I assume, from Mia's Facebook page. And last, two photos of Ana and me--at her graduation and at the photographer's exhibition.

  What the hell would Hyde want with all that shit? It makes no sense. I know he has a thing for Ana, that's consistent with his modus operandi. But my family? Me? It's like he's obsessed with us. Or maybe it's all about Ana? This is weird. And frankly disturbing. I resolve to call Welch in the morning to discuss. He can investigate further and get me some answers.

  I close the e-mail, and sitting in my inbox are a couple of final acquisition agreements from Marco. I need to read them tonight--but first some dinner.

  "Evening, Gail," I call out to her when I'm back in the living room.

  "Good evening, Mr. Grey. Dinner in ten, sir?"

  Ana is sitting at the kitchen counter with a glass of wine. After dealing with that asshole, I think she's earned it. I'll join her. I retrieve the open bottle of Sancerre and pour one for myself.