If you ever get a notification that a new chapter has been posted, but there's nothing there, it was probably just me making changes to things or deleting certain A/N's. Don't fret. I really wish the site had a better notification program.


He sat desolate, alone in his office. Was it possible that he was cursed? No matter what he did, misfortune always fell upon him. He finds a girl, obviously very sexually liberated - and not the type to seem shy to new adventures - with just the right amount of independence and willingness to comply to orders, that made her the perfect submissive; not to mention her tight, round ass and silky smooth skin.

Christian sighed and put his head in his hands. For the first time in twelve years, he was feeling actual disappointment. The feeling was alien to him, almost painful. He was happy to live his life cold and unfeeling, completely apathetic to the world around him. Now, he had gotten himself immersed with some girl… Some foolish, quirky, attractive girl that had a child.

He sure knew how to pick him, huh?

Christian didn't necessarily hate children… Just didn't like them. They were loud, needy, and messy. They were too dependent. The thought of someone needing you every single second of the day, relying on you for their survival, was absolutely appalling to him. He couldn't fathom how someone could willingly sign up for such an arduous task as being a parent. Obviously it required a certain degree of patience and tenderness… Which clearly Christian lacked.

And for that reason, he could no longer involve himself with Anastasia. The thought of him having to find another submissive greatly angered him. He slid his office chair back, stomping over to his small bourbon cabinet to pour himself a drink. He rubbed his temple with his left hand, taking a deep breath. It felt like he had lost one of his buyers, or been swindled out of one of his business ventures. For him to have the perfect vision of what he wanted, and then to have it all destroyed in the blink of an eye, infuriated him. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't gotten his way.

He made sure to play it right, too. He had toned down his attitude, followed the wishes and whims of that pale, mousy girl, made sure not to give too much away… All for nothing. He had to settle for a girl that wasn't Ana… And that felt like defeat.

"Damnit," Christian hissed, slamming his glass down on top of the cabinet. The more he thought about his current situation, the angrier he got. He loosened his tie and ran his hands through his hair, pacing up and down the length of his office. Just to prove a point, just to not fail, he still wanted to pursue her. Even if their relationship didn't work - it couldn't work - he wanted to be able to say that he could've gotten that girl. He wanted to have her just to have her… It was quite immature if you thought about it, but Christian was a petulant man, after all.

He wanted her fine print on the contract, wanted one session in the playroom, just to say that he succeeded. Just to say that he could have anyone he wanted, convince anyone to do anything he wanted. It was a power play, or that's what he truly believed. A faint, small tickling within his subconscious knew otherwise, aware of his desires and motives before he even knew them himself.

Was it worth the effort? He thought to himself. What if he fucked her once, then ended up wanting more? Could he simply cut her off without an explanation, without a second thought? Anything long term was already off the table, with her child and all. Christian would have to share her, share her time, body, and attention with a drooling, whining, soul-sucking child. He refused. The long term aspects of any type of relationship between them were already settled, it was how he'd react to their short term that worried him.

It'll be fine… I'll be fine. She'll be fine, he told himself. Truthfully, he didn't care, nor did he dedicate any time to rationalizing his actions. He wanted her - it was simple. He didn't care if it was for one night, one day, one week; he needed to know that Anastasia Steele would give herself to him.

He needed to know that he was still in control.

With his mind already made up, Christian could relax. The feeling of helplessness had subsided; finally he could map out the next course of action he would take. He took his last swig of liquor, leaving the glass on the cabinet. He sauntered back towards his desk, removing his phone from one of the drawers. He would call Elena, surely she would know the best way to deal with someone new to the BDSM community. She did turn him out, after all.

He opened his email app, preparing to send a private message to Elena, when suddenly his phone vibrated and a blocked number flashed across the screen. He frowned at the image before him, suspicious of how someone could possibly have access to his personal phone number. The few business associates that called his private cell were listed in his contacts, along with his family and security team. All other calls were taken care of by Andrea at GEH. Could it be a telemarketer? He thought, but immediately dismissed the idea. His cell phone number was almost as hidden as his sordid involvement with BDSM, there was no way someone could publicly access that information, not to mention that the caller was purposely hiding his or her identity.

He hit decline, then promptly commanded Taylor to see him in his office. Something about the whole ordeal felt off to him. Not even thirty seconds later, his phone flashed again, with the same number printed across the screen. He was starting to get frustrated now, even tempted to answer and show the unknown person what exactly happens when they call his phone unannounced. He declined the call once again, his jaw tightening with irritation.

The third time the number appeared, Christian didn't hesitate to answer. Faintly, he wondered where the hell Taylor was, and made a mental note to scold him for his lack of promptness.

"What?" Christian hissed, slamming his fist onto the desk.

He waited for a reply, but all he could hear on the other line was deep, raspy breathing. Christian frowned, his eyebrows pulling together. After the day he had just had, he was not in the mood for games.

"Who is this?" He demanded, his voice cold and threatening, "Tell me your name this instant!"

The unknown caller continued to breathe for about five more seconds, then suddenly the line went dead. "Hello?!" Christian asked, his voice ragged. He looked at his cell phone's screen to realize that the caller had hung up. He placed his blackberry on his desk, pursing his lips. The whole situation puzzled and upset him, especially since he had no way of tracking the person who had dialed his number.

Taylor appeared at the threshold of his office, his hands at his side as he stood expectantly. "Sir?" He asked, slightly concerned at Christian's current state. "Is everything okay?"

Christian looked at him, eager to tear him a new one, but simply said nothing. Something about that call didn't sit right with him. It wasn't some twelve year old trying to be funny, the call felt ominous. The caller almost felt… Threatening. Christian wasn't scared, but he was incensed. Who was stupid enough to challenge Christian Grey?

"I think you and the team might have someone to watch out for," he answered.


"Where's Scarlett?" He shouted over the loud music, a $50 bill already outstretched towards Raven. "I have a surprise for her."

Raven smiled and snatched the bill from him, placing it into the crook of her bra. "I think you're becoming my new favorite customer," she remarked. "She's getting ready, she'll be on in ten."

"Where's the dressing room?" He asked.

"That way," she said, pointing to a small room to the left of them. "But you can't go back there."

Christian nodded, taking a sip of his drink before leaving. He set the glass on the counter and wiped his mouth before making his way towards the dressing room. Raven had said that he couldn't go back there, but she didn't say he couldn't try. Unlike the private dance area, there was no bouncer stationed outside the room. Luckily for Christian, tonight it was very crowded, so he easily blended in with the horde of desperate, lonely old men.

He cautiously looked around, making sure that no security personnel were watching him. Even if he did successfully get into the room, he wasn't so sure the ladies would take too kindly to a strange man encroaching on their territory.

Well, it's not like I haven't already seen every inch of their body…

Once the coast was clear, he ducked through the door, quickly but quietly shutting it behind him. There were about ten girls inside, each stationed in front of their own mirror. Some girls sat down applying lipstick and mascara, while others were rearranging their wigs and corsets. Most of the girls were young, some looking so youthful that it actually worried Christian. He was sure one of the girls couldn't have been older than 17.

Do their fathers know they're doing this?

He stood near the door for a good ten seconds before someone actually noticed him standing there. A short, round redhead peered over at him, a slow smile making its way across her face. "Girls, we have company," she announced, "Is this another one of your fuckbuddies, Lola?" She teased, causing a tall, petite blonde to swat at her head.

"Shut up, chubby chaser," she hissed. The redhead laughed, giving the girl the middle finger.

The redhead turned away from the mirror, looking Christian up and down. She crossed her arms. "Looking for someone in particular? If not, I can be your girl for the night," she murmured, a seductive lilt present in her voice.

Christian cleared his throat, more annoyed than flattered. Women threw themselves at him all the time - eventually it gets old. "Unfortunately I am," he responded. "Is Scarlett around?" Christian rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, the many women in the room staring at him. Some of them sent him lustful looks and pleasant smiles, while others were too shy to look at him for long.

The redhead rolled her eyes, turning back around to look at her reflection. "Why does she get all the rich ones?" She grumbled under her breath. She grabbed a thin, clear plastic strip of some sort and placed it onto her top row of teeth, closing her mouth and running her tongue along her teeth. She opened her mouth and smiled at the mirror before calling over shoulder, "Scarlett! One of your sugar daddies is here!" Christian took note of the bitter edge to her voice.

He could hear footsteps coming from the other end of the room as Ana pushed her way through the orange, beaded curtains. "Shut the fuck up, Trixie," Ana mumbled, her heels clacking on the hardwood floor. Her eyes immediately flitted to Christian, who reached into his pocket and retrieved her phone, dangling it theatrically. "Forgot something?" He asked.

Ana bit her lip and crossed her arms, walking towards him. Christian expected her to stop in front of him, but instead she pushed past him and grabbed the doorknob. "Keep it - I already got a new one," she whispered, looking down.

Before she could fully get out the door, Christian grabbed her arm. "Can we talk?" He asked lowly, lifting her face to look at him, his eyes peering deeply into hers.

"About what?" She said, ripping her arm out of his grasp. "I already told you that it's best if you stay away."

Christian sighed, shaking his head. "What are you so afraid of?" He asked, almost pleading. From the moment he met this girl, she was one of the few people that he could tell was hiding more than he was. She was a mystery, an enigma… And he wanted to learn everything about her, to make her his. A sort of longing throbbed in the pit of his stomach, a longing to conquer her body and mind. She was the ultimate merger and acquisition.

She huffed, closing her eyes tightly. When she reopened them, her powder blue eyes were moist, a layer of her armor chipped away. It was the most vulnerable he had ever seen her.

"Nothing," she lied, "I would just appreciate it if you left me alone." She walked out of the door, Christian staring at her mahogany strands as they cascaded down her back, bouncing with each step.

He groaned. Ana was going to be a challenge… And for some reason he liked that.

"Tsk, tsk," Trixie stated, sucking her teeth. Christian peered over at her. "Haven't you learned, buddy?" She asked, "You can't love a whore."


"Oh, God!" Ana grumbled, stamping her feet. "Don't you take the hint?" She yelled, rolling her eyes at Christian.

He stood leaning against her car, a mocking and sarcastic expression on his face. "Actually, no. I'm very persistent."

"As I can see," she hissed. "You know, I'm thinking of filing a restraining order. You're starting to become kind of a stalker."

"There are ways to get around a restraining order," Christian remarked matter-of-factly, then frowned when he realized how creepy he sounded, "but I don't think that will be necessary."

"Oh, really?" Ana asked, her voice lilting sardonically. "Not from the looks of it."

She crossed her arms, her lips formed into a pout. Christian faintly thought of how cute she looked, then scolded himself for his wayward thinking.

She's not supposed to be cute, she's supposed to be fuckable. Don't lose sight of the goal, Grey.

Ana was nothing more than a game, a test of skill, you could say. He wanted to make her vulnerable, naked… To uncover her secrets and get her to submit to him. Nothing more, nothing less. Referring to her as "cute" would get him nowhere.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, his eyes softening. He put on his good guy mask, needing to do damage control for his rash actions. "I was just… Worried. You took off pretty soon the other day."

She nodded. "Something… Came up."

"Something or someone?" Christian asked, hinting at Ana's weird behavior before she left the shop.

She frowned, backing up defensively. "I don't think that's any of your business," she snapped. "You're in front of my car, so I'd appreciate it if you moved!" She growled, shoving Christian's arm. Her attempt was feeble, but Christian played along, moving his body over to the side. "You know?" She started, "You're really beginning to piss me off."

"Sorry, it's a habit," he quipped.

Ana dug into her bag, looking for her car keys. She ignored his smart-ass remark, eager to get out of his sight. Christian tugged on her jacket, causing her to sigh and put her bag down, her eyes boring into his.

"Look around you," he demanded, gesturing towards the broken sidewalks of the street and the seedy alleyways surrounding the building, "this isn't a nice neighborhood. You're small, pretty… Vulnerable. Is this really where you want to be day in and day out? A girl like you has a bright future, people who care about her… Depend on her," Christian stated knowingly, raising his eyebrows.

Ana narrowed her eyes, turning her head suspiciously. "What are you getting at?" She asked.

"I'm not getting at anything, just stating the obvious. It's clear you're in trouble, but do you think you can protect yourself? It wouldn't be hard to snatch you away out here."

Ana gulped, licking her lips nervously. "I think I should go," she whispered.

"No, I'm not done yet," Christian insisted. "Stripping gives you fast money - lots of it, but at what price? Anyone can walk into that club, ask about you, find out information, show up at your car…" He trailed off. "Wouldn't you prefer a safer option? I think your family would."

Ana looked down, clutching her jacket tightly. She fingered her zipper, the gears turning in her head. She glanced at Christian, pursing her lips. She shifted her weight from her right foot to her left. "I don't have any other options…" She whispered.

"Sure you do," he argued.

"Like what?" She asked, frowning.

"Come with me and I'll tell you."