ere your
e-mails to me were. He was trying to blackmail me.”
Christian’s look is murderous. Oh shit. “Fuck!” he
splutters and narrows his eyes at me. He punches a
number into his Blackberry.
Oh no. I’m in trouble. Who’s he calling?
“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 . . . Yes, all
of them. Now. Let me know when it’s done.”
He stabs the off button then dials another number.
“Roach. Grey. Hyde—I want him out. Now. This
minute. Call security. Get him to clear his desk
immediately, or I will liquidate this company first thing in
the morning. You already ha一ve all the justification you need
to give him his pink slip. Do you understand?” He listens
to give him his pink slip. Do you understand?” He listens
for a moment and hangs up seemingly satisfied.
“Blackberry,” he hisses at me through clenched teeth.
“Please don’t be mad at me.” I blink up at him.
“I am so mad at you right now,” he snarls and once
more sweeps his hand through his hair. “Get in the car.”
“Christian, please—”
“Get in the fucking car, Anastasia, or so help me I’ll
put you in there myself,” he threatens, his eyes blazing with
fury.
Oh shit. “Don’t do anything stupid, please,” I beg.
“STUPID!” he explodes. “I told you to use your
fucking Blackberry. Don’t talk to me about stupid. Get in
the motherfucking car, Anastasia—NOW!” he snarls and a
frisson of fear runs through me. This is Very Angry
Christian. I’ve not seen him this mad before. He’s barely
holding on to his self-control.
“Okay,” I mutter, placating him. “But please, be
careful.”
Pressing his lips together in a hard line, he points
angrily to the car, glaring at me.
Jeez, okay, I get the message.
“Please be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to
you. It would kill me,” I murmur. He blinks rapidly and
stills, lowering his arm while he takes a deep breath.
“I’ll be careful
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