t splattered all over it. It’s chilling
and makes me grateful that Christian is taking me
somewhere else.
“A replacement will arrive on Monday,” Christian says
bleakly when he’s seated beside me.
“How could she ha一ve known it was my car?”
He glances anxiously at me and sighs. “She had an
Audi A3. I buy one for all my submissives—it’s one of the
Audi A3. I buy one for all my submissives—it’s one of the
safest cars in its class.”
Oh. “So, not so much a graduation present, then.”
“Anastasia, despite what I hoped, you ha一ve never been
my submissive, so technically it is a graduation present.”
He pulls out of the parking space and speeds to the exit.
Despite what he hoped. Oh no . . . my subconscious
shakes her head sadly. This is what we come back to all
the time.
“Are you still hoping?” I whisper.
The in-car phone buzzes. “Grey,” Christian snaps.
“Fairmont Olympic. In my name.”
“Thank you, Taylor. And, Taylor, be careful.”
Taylor pauses. “Yes, sir,” he says quietly, and
Christian hangs up.
The streets of Seattle are deserted, and Christian roars
up Fifth Avenue toward the I-5. Once on the interstate, he
floors the gas pedal, heading north. He accelerates so
quickly I’m momentarily thrown back in my seat.
I peek at him. He’s deep in thought, radiating a deadly
I peek at him. He’s deep in thought, radiating a deadly
brooding silence. He hasn’t answered my question. He
glances frequently at the rearview mirror, and I realize he’s
checking that we’re not being followed. Perhaps that’s
why we’re on the I-5. I thought the Fairmont was in
Seattle.
I gaze out of the window, trying to rationalize my
exhausted, overactive mind. If she’d wanted to hurt me,
she had ample opportunity in the bedroom.
“No. It’s not what I hope for, not anymore. I thought
that was obvious.” Christian interrupts my introspection,
his voice soft.
I blink at him, pulling his denim jacket tighter around
me, and I don’t know if the chill is emanating from within
me or from outside.
“I worry that, you know
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