Chapter 162
Chapter 162
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Nervously, I put the phone to my ear. “Mr. Steele?” Feeling Ana’s gaze on my back, I wander into my study just in
case it’s bad news.
“Christian, I think you ought to call me Ray. Sounds like my little girl is crazy about you and I’m not one to get in
her way.”
Crazy about you. My heart flips and soars.
“Well, thank you, sir.”
“You hurt her in any way and I’ll kill you.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
“Crazy kids,” he mutters. “Now you take good care of her. Annie is my light.”
“She’s mine, too…Ray.”
“And good luck with telling her mother.” He laughs. “Now let me get back to my fishing.”
“I hope you top the forty-three-pounder.”
“You know about that?”
“José told me.”
“He’s a talkative guy. Good day, Christian.”
“It is now.” I grin.
“I HAVE YOUR STEPFATHER’S rather begrudging blessing,” I announce to Ana in the kitchen. She laughs and
shakes her head.
“I think Ray is freaked out,” she says. “I’ve got to tell my mom. But I’d like to do that on a full stomach.” She waves
in the direction of the counter where our food is waiting. Salmon, potatoes, salad, and an interesting dip. She’s
also selected some wine. A Chablis. “Well, this looks great.” I open the wine and pour us each a small glass.
“Damn, you’re a good cook, woman.” I raise my glass to Ana in appreciation. Her lighthearted expression fades
and I’m reminded of the expression on her face outside the playroom this morning. “Ana? Why did you ask me not
to take your photo?”
Her consternation deepens, worrying me. “Ana, what is it?” My tone is sharper than I intended and she jumps.
“I found your photos,” she says, as if she’s committed some terrible sin.
What photos? But as I say the words, I realize exactly what she’s talking about. And I feel like I’m back in my
father’s study, waiting for a pompous dressing-down for some infraction I’ve committed.
“You’ve been in the safe?” How the hell did she do that?
“Safe? No. I didn’t know you had a safe.”
“I don’t understand.”
“In your closet. The box. I was looking for your tie, and the box was under your jeans. The ones you normally wear
in the playroom…Except today.”
Fuck.
No one should see those photographs. Especially Ana. How did they get there?
Leila. NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.
“It’s not what you think. I’d forgotten all about them. That box had been moved. Those photographs belong in my
safe.”
“Who moved them?” Ana asks.
“There’s only one person who could have done that.”
“Oh. Who? And what do you mean it’s not what I think?”
Confess, Grey.
You’ve already alluded to the depths of your depravity.
This is it, baby. Fifty shades.
“This is going to sound cold, but—they’re an insurance policy.”
“Insurance policy?”
“Against exposure.”
I watch her face as she realizes what I mean. “Oh.” She closes her eyes as if she’s trying to erase what I’ve told
her. “Yes. You’re right,” she says quietly. “That does sound cold.” She stands and starts to clear the dishes; it’s to
avoid me.
“Ana.”
“Do they know? The girls. The subs?”
“Of course they know.”
Before she can escape to the sink, I fold her into my arms. “Those photos are supposed to be in the safe. They’re
not for recreational use.”
They were once upon a time, Grey.
“Maybe they were when they were taken originally. But—they don’t mean anything.”
“Who put them in your closet?”
“It could only have been Leila.”
“She knows your safe combination?”
I guess. “It wouldn’t surprise me. It’s a very long combination, and I use it so rarely. It’s the one number I have
written down and haven’t changed. I wonder what else she knows and if she’s taken anything else out of there.” I’ll
check it. “Look, I’ll destroy the photos. Now, if you like.”
“They’re your photos, Christian. Do with them as you wish.” And I know she’s offended and hurt.
Christ.
Ana. This was all before you.
I take her head in my hands. “Don’t be like that. I don’t want that life. I want our life, together.” I know she
struggles with not being enough for me. Maybe she thinks I want to do those things to her and photograph her.
Grey, be honest, of course you would.
But I’d never do it without her permission. I had all my submissives’ consent to having their photographs taken.
Ana’s wounded expression reveals her vulnerability. I thought we’d moved on. I want her as she is. She’s more
than enough. “Ana, I thought we exorcised all those ghosts this morning. I feel that way. Don’t you?”
Her eyes soften. “Yes. Yes, I feel like that, too.”
“Good.” I kiss her and hold her, feeling her body relax against mine. “I’ll shred them. And then I have to go to work.
I’m sorry, baby, but I have a mountain of business to get through this afternoon.”
“It’s cool. I have to call my mother,” she says, and makes a face. “Then I want to do some shopping and bake you
a cake.”
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