m the noise
at the house and hidden from the prying eyes of the construction workers.
We are in our own bucolic ha一ven. He feeds me another strawberry, and I
chew and suck it gratefully, gazing at his darkening eyes.
“Tasty?” he whispers.
“Very.”
“Had enough?”
“Of strawberries, yes.”
His eyes glitter dangerously, and he grins down at me. “Mrs. Jones packs a
mighty fine picnic,” he says.
“That she does,” I whisper.
Shifting suddenly, he lies down so his head is resting on my belly. He closes
his eyes and seems content. I tangle my fingers in his hair. He sighs hea一vily,
then scowls and checks the number on the screen of his buzzing BlackBerry.
He rolls his eyes and takes the call.
“Welch,” he snaps. He tenses, listens for a second or two, then suddenly
bolts upright.
“24-7 . . . Thanks,” he says through gritted teeth and hangs up. The change in
his mood is instant. Gone is my teasing, flirtatious husband, 483 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
replaced by a cold, calculating master of the universe. He narrows his eyes
for a moment then gives me a cool, chilling smile. A shiver runs down my
back. He picks up his BlackBerry and presses a speed dial.
“Ros, how much stock do we own in Lincoln Timber?” He kneels up.
My scalp prickles. Oh no, what’s this?
“So, consolidate the shares into GEH, then fire the board . . . except the
CEO. . . . I don’t give a fuck . . . I hear you, just do it . . . thank you . . . keep me
informed.” He hangs up, and gazes at me impassively for a moment.
Holy shit! Christian is mad.
“What’s happened?”
“Linc,” he murmurs.
“Linc? Elena’s ex?”
“The same. He’s the one who posted Hyde’s bail.”
What? Why? I gape at Christian in shock. His mouth is pressed in a hard
line.
“Well—he’ll look like an idiot,” I murmur, dismayed. “I mean, Hyde committed
another crime while out on bail.”
Christian’s eyes narrow and he smirks. “Fair point well made, Mrs. Grey.”
“What did you just do?” I kneel up, facing him.
“I fucked him over.”
Oh! “Um . . . that seems a little imp
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