Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 116

“Rebranding?” Her eyebrows shoot up. “In what way?”

“I think you know.”

She sighs. “Please don’t tell me you have interrupted your day, after three weeks away, to come over here and fight with me about my name.”

That’s exactly what I’ve done.

I cross my legs and remove a speck of lint from my pants, playing for time.

Steady, Grey. “Not exactly fight. No.”

She narrows her eyes. Pissed. “Christian, I’m working.”

“Looked like you were gossiping with your assistant to me.”

“We were going through our schedules,” she hisses, as her cheeks color. “And you haven’t answered my question.”

There’s a knock on the door. “Come in!” Ana yells, surprising us both. Hannah enters, bearing a small tray with coffee, which she places on Ana’s desk.

“Thank you, Hannah,” Ana mutters, subdued.

“Do you need anything else, Mr. Grey?” Hannah asks.

“No, thank you. That’s all.” Deliberately, I give her my most excellent smile. It has the desired effect, and she scuttles out. “Now, Ms. Steele, where were we?”

“You were rudely interrupting my workday to fight with me about my name.” Ana spits the words at me, her fervor taking me by surprise.

She is really mad.

So. Am. I.

She should have

“I like to make the odd impromptu visit. It keeps management on their toes, wives

“I had no idea you could spare the time,” she retorts.

Enough. Cut to the chase, Grey.

Striving to keep my tone respectful, I ask, quietly,

“Christian, do we have to discuss this now?”

“I’m here. I don’t see why not.” This is important to me, Ana.

ton of work to do, having been away for the last three weeks.”

ashamed of me?” I inquire, surprising myself, and inadvertently revealing the darkness that resides in my soul.

I hadn’t intended to go here.

I hold my breath.

Don’t fight, Maggot.

“How is this not about me?” I cock my head, willing her to explain. Of course this is about me; it’s my name.

Her expression softens. “Christian, when I took this job, I’d only just met you.” It’s like she’s talking to a child. “I didn’t know you were going to buy the company—” She closes her eyes, as if this is a particularly painful memory, and puts her head in her hands. “Why is it so important to you?” she asks and looks up, beseeching me.

“I want everyone

“I am yours—look.” She holds up her hand, which bears her wedding and engagement rings.

“It’s not

“Not enough that I married you?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Ana, don’t distort what I’m trying to say to you.

“What do you mean?” she demands.

“I want your world to begin and end with me.”

eyes are impossibly blue. “It does,” she says, and I don’t know if I’ve ever heard two words filled with such quiet passion before; they suck the air out of the room and take my breath away. “I’m just trying to establish a career,” she continues, warming to her subject, “and I don’t want to trade

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