murmur, trying in vain to steady my nerves.
“You’re lea一ving me?” Christian’s words are an agonized, breathless whisper.
What?
“No!” My voice mirrors his. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no—how can he think that?
The money? He thinks I’m going because of the money?
And in moment of horrific clarity, I realize the only way I’m going to keep
Christian at arm’s length, out of harm’s way, and to sa一ve his sister . . . is to
lie.
“Yes,” I whisper. And searing pain lances through me, tears springing to my
eyes.
He gasps, almost a sob. “Ana, I—” He chokes.
No! My hand clutches my mouth as I stifle my warring emotions.
“Christian, please. Don’t.” I fight back tears.
“You’re going?” he says.
“Yes.”
“But why the cash? Was it always the money?” His tortured voice is barely
audible.
No! Tears roll down my face. “No,” I whisper.
“Is five million enough?”
Oh please, stop!
“Yes.”
“And the baby?” His voice is a breathless echo.
What? My hand moves from my mouth to my belly. “I’ll take care of the baby,”
I murmur. My Little Blip . . . our Little Blip.
“This is what you want?”
No!
“Yes.”
He inhales sharply. “Take it all,” he hisses.
“Christian,” I sob. “It’s for you. For your family. Please. Don’t.”
“Take it all, Anastasia.”
“Christian—” And I nearly ca一ve. Nearly tell him—about Jack, about 420 | P a
g e
E L JAMES
Mia, about the ransom. Just trust me, please! I silently beg him.
“I’ll always love you.” His voice is hoarse. He hangs up.
“Christian! No . . . I love you, too.” And all the stupid shit that we put each
other through over the last few days fades into insignificance. I promised I’d
never lea一ve him. I am not lea一ving you. I am sa一ving your sister. I slump into the
chair, weeping copiously into my hands. I am interrupted by a timid knock on
the door. Whelan enters, though I ha一ven’t acknowledged him. He looks
everywhere but at me. He’s mortified.
You called him, you bastard! I glare at him.
“You ha一ve carte blanche, Mrs. Grey,” he says. “Mr. Grey has agreed to liquefy
some of his assets.
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