loves me and
doesn’t try to control my every move. The phone rings.
“Jack Hyde’s office—”
“You assured me you wouldn’t go out,” Christian
interrupts me, his voice cold and hard.
My heart sinks for the millionth time this day. Shit.
How the hell does he know?
“Jack sent me out for some lunch. I couldn’t say no.
Are you ha一ving me watched?” My scalp prickles at the
notion. No wonder I felt so paranoid—
someone was watching me. The thought makes me angry.
“This is why I didn’t want you going back to work,”
Christian snaps.
“Christian, please. You’re being”—So Fifty—“so
suffocating.”
“Suffocating?” he whispers, surprised.
“Yes. You ha一ve to stop this. I’ll talk to you this
evening. Unfortunately, I ha一ve to work late because I can’t
go to New York.”
“Anastasia, I don’t want to suffocate you,” he says
quietly, appalled.
“Well, you are. I ha一ve work to do. I’ll talk to you
later.” I hang up, feeling drained and vaguely depressed.
After our wonderful weekend, the reality is hitting
home. I ha一ve never felt more like running. Running to some
quiet retreat so I can think about this man, about how he
is, and about how to deal with him. On one level, I know
he’s broken—I can see that clearly now—and it’s both
heartbreaking and exhausting. From the small pieces of
precious information that he’s given me about his life, I
understand why. An unloved child; a hideously abusive
environment; a mother who couldn’t protect him, whom he
couldn’t protect, and who died in front of him.
I shudder. My poor Fifty. I am his, but not to be kept
in some gilded cage. How am I going to make him see
this?
With a hea一vy heart, I drag one of the manuscripts Jack
wants me to summarize into my lap and continue to read. I
can think of no easy solution to Christian’s fucked-up
control issues. I will just ha一ve to talk to him later, face to
face.
Half an hour later, Jack e-mails me a document that I
need to tidy up and polish, ready for printing tomorrow in
time for his conference. It will take me not
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