CHAPTER IX
CHECK MATE
Monday
came fast enough. I wake up before the radio alarm goes off. Anastasia and I
are wrapped in each other’s arms. If I move, she’ll wake up. I shift in the bed
slowly trying to move my arm under her head. But that makes her roll into me,
and she holds my torso in her sleep, trying to situate herself in the bed
trying to fit her soft body to the contours of my hard muscles. As she moves to
find a perfect position to sleep in my grasp, her breasts rub around my chest
hair, and her nipples awaken my senses. My erection springs, laying between us a
thick and heavy rope, digging into her. Awareness
of my intruding cock, throbbing over her soft flesh wakes her up.
“Good
morning to you, too, husband,” she says smiling half asleep into my chest.
“Hi,”
I kiss her forehead.
“Hmmm,”
she murmurs. Shifting her head slightly, she kisses my neck. "Guess you're happy to see me."
“We
don’t have to… if you don’t feel up to it…” I say.
Ana’s
hand reaches to my erection and she rubs her thumb over the burning wide crest
of my erection spreading the dew over the tip. Her singular touch almost
immediately fires up my body, and send shock-waves all through my extremities
curling my toes. She fucking lit the fuse!
“We’ve
gone all weekend without it. Can’t treat me like I’m made of glass, Christian,”
she complains.
I
groan and take her lips with urgent demand, sucking her lips and feel the luscious
softness. My tongue is all over her mouth at once, thrusting, caressing deeply,
stroking in sensual licks. She moans into my mouth, surrendering and taking. My
hands move to her head to hold her in place, and as I carefully place her
beneath me, I loom over her.
“Christian,”
she moans, raising her head, her mouth meets mine, her arms wrap around my neck.
“I’m hungry… I just got a bad craving,” she murmurs into my mouth.
“Huh?
Now?” I ask incredulous, lifting my head up to get a good look at her face.
Once Anastasia is turned on, she normally has no off switch. She wants food
now, yet she looks at me as if I’m something to eat.
“Now,”
she groans, and her tummy gurgles as if to back her up. Puzzled, I pull back up,
hot and frustrated.
“Well,
I guess we can get breakfast,” I say looking down at my disappointed erection,
now throbbing.
“I
want a chocolate Popsicle.”
“A
chocolate Popsicle ” I ask, testing the words of her odd request. I’m the
husband of a pregnant wife. Guess I have to be prepared to get odd food
requests at unexpected times, like when I’m ready to make love to her.
“Uhm…
I’m not sure if Mrs. Jones purchased any chocolate Popsicle. I’ll have to
check in the freezer,” I say. “You sure you don’t want breakfast?” I ask trying
to hide my disappointment.
“Oh,
I want breakfast alright, but I want it here. You find the chocolate syrup in
the pantry and bring it back please; I’m looking at my Popsicle right now,” she
says her gaze is locked on my erection. It takes me a moment to register.
“You
want to dip my cock in chocolate?” I ask as my gaze is darkening with wanton
desire.
“I
want my Christian Grey flavored chocolate Popsicle, now!” she demands.
“Yes,
ma’am,” I reply with another glance at my wife and pull the sheet from the bed
leaving her completely naked for my eyes, and wrap it around my waist. Wordlessly,
I go out of our room, and quickly make my way to kitchen. Gail is in the
kitchen working. She looks up as my feet softly pads way towards the pantry.
“Good
morning Mr. Gr... Grey,” she say stuttering seeing my half naked state under my bed spread, and immediately lowers her eye.
“Morning
Gail,” I reply and open the pantry. My gaze quickly scans the contents situated
on the shelves. Finding a bottle of Ghirardelli’s Sweet Ground Chocolate Sauce,
I take the bottle, and with Gail’s puzzled gaze following my retreating steps,
I make my way back to our bedroom. Seeing the Ghirardelli bottle in my hand,
Anastasia grins and rubs her hand together.
“Yes!
My favorite!” she says and almost attacks the bottle ripping it out of my hand.
It’s fucking hot because not only my wife wants to suck me dry but also eat off of me. She
licks her lips hungrily her gaze going from the bottle to my heavy erection.
“I’m
hungry, husband. Feed me,” she says smiling lustfully, beckoning me with the crook of her
finger, then pats the space on the bed next to her like the Siren’s call.
“Alright
Mrs. Grey. Have it your way,” I say as I stretch next to her. My cock, a thick rope lies heavy against my belly. Anastasia grins and straddles me.
Placing the unopened bottle of chocolate next to me, she slowly, purposefully
leans down until her nipples slowly touch and tease me on her ascent towards my
lips. When she reaches my neck, she places light kisses over the side of my
neck, my ear. Capturing my earlobe between her teeth, she slowly tugs it into
her mouth and sucks deep. Oh shit! I feel the effects of it on the crown of my
cock. Her lips move to the side of my face, my chin, grazing over my
stubble, stimulating her senses. When she finally makes her way to my lips, she
traces them with the tip of her tongue, and finally covers it with her now
swollen lips. Our lips mold over each other, kissing passionately, sucking and
teasing.
“I
am going to lick the chocolate off your cock and then suck my favorite Popsicle
dry,” whispers against my mouth making me even harder. As her lips retract back
slowly, making me feel bereft and needy, she travels back down my body slowly,
kissing, licking and nipping.
Once
her lips reach my belly button, she traces the circumference with her tongue,
and darts it into my belly button. Then slowly and leisurely, she traces her
nose over my happy trail, still moving south. Finding my heavy ball sack she lifts it with her hand
and gently sucks it. I hiss a harsh breath between my teeth. She pays the same
attention to my other ball. Finally, she traces her tongue from the root of my
cock to the dewy tip. The wide crest of my cock is both feverish and pulsing
with need for her. Anastasia leans down, her hair cascading on the sides of her
head in chestnut waterfalls. Her right hand grasps the root of my thick cock. She slightly lifts her long eyelashes and our gazes
meet. Anastasia runs her tongue over her upper lip showing me how hungry she is
for my cock.
“Fuuuuck!”
The word escapes my lips in a hissing blow. She lowers her mouth; her gaze
still locked with mine and her soft lips encases my steely erection starting with the soft
tip first. The tip of her tongue swirls and strokes the crown gently,
rhythmically. I clutch the pillows on both sides of me. Then her lips and mouth
leaves my cock and I feel the cool drips of chocolate on the very tip of my
cock as Anastasia’s hand is holding the root up like a Popsicle. When the first
lazy drop hits the tip, the sensation coupled by her ravenous gaze on her prize
is thrilling. She licks her lips. Then another and another and another drop of
chocolate land on my crown and slowly oozes down the shaft and over my
erection, finally coating the crescent formed by her thumb and the index
finger, pooling. Once my cock is completely covered with chocolate, looking
like a rather overlarge banana, Anastasia grins as she looks at me, and without
breaking her gaze, her mouth descends on my cock.
Her
lips first touch the tip, and she sucks the chocolate rather ravenously,
jolting my body with an incredible sensation. She keeps her attention on the
tip first and when she slightly raises her head just to look at me, her lips
are covered in dark brown chocolate. A swipe of her tongue clears the most of the chocolate out of her lips, and I want to do that, but I restrain myself. She bites her lower lip and
descends her mouth on my chocolate covered cock again. This time she slowly
licks the chocolate off as if she’s licking melted ice-cream from a cone to not
to let it go to waste. She finally looms down and sucks my cock to the hilt. As
her mouth ascends back up to the tip, so does her hand covered in chocolate, freshly
coating my cock again.
My
heart is racing, my toes are curling, and my eyes are rolling into the back of
my head with the overwhelming and rather unexpected but extremely welcome
amorous attack. Her mouth, lips, teeth and hand work tirelessly on my cock, and
I build up and up, but try to hold the sensation in a little longer. As she
grazes down my cock with the slight clasp of her teeth and soothing the sting
with her talented tongue, I hold the sides of the headboard, buck my hip into
her mouth matching her movement. She pushes my cock to the hollow of her cheek,
with suction, and pulls me in deeply inviting my come into her mouth. I reach
my peak shouting, “Oh, ffffuuuck! Anaaa!” and come in large spurts into her
welcoming mouth.
When
the sparks before my eyes subside to give way to sight, I see her smiling face,
her lips and chin covered in chocolate. I sit up in a rush and come face to
face with her. I take her face between my hands and possess her lips with mine,
taking not asking, conquering not visiting. I taste a mingle of flavors in her
mouth. Chocolate, Anastasia and me. What an intoxicating concoction!
“Mrs.
Grey, now that we’ve assuaged one of your appetites, I think it’s time
to satisfy others,” I murmur into her mouth as I carefully lower her onto her
back. This time, I loom over her.
“Let’s
see how this chocolate tastes on you.” My smile is dark and lascivious. I take
the chocolate bottle and let large drops fall onto her nipples lazily slide
down over her soft peaks. I make a trail leading down to her belly and partly
over the junction of her waxed thighs.
“Don’t…
Move…” I order distinctly. I hold her hands above her head with one of mine and
lick the chocolate trailing down to her sternum making my way up over the peak.
With a swipe of my tongue, I clear the chocolate, leaving a light residue
behind, and suck the peak with a force that Ana bucks her hips, and spreading
chocolate to my torso.
Every Breath You Take - Sting
“Oh,
baby, you moved,” I say grinning, and restrain her legs with mine.
As
my mouth moves down towards her belly button, she moans incoherently, trying to
move and create a friction.
“You
move when I tell you to move, baby. Slow, Ana, slow…” I say looking up from her
belly button. I dip my tongue into her belly and lick the trickling chocolate. Once
it’s all cleared, I seal my lips over her womb, and kiss our baby, stopping all
of Anastasia’s movements, even breathing. Our gazes lock, and I let go of her
hands, and then move over her sex. It’s been waxed clean. I lean down and lick
over her pubic bone. Once it’s clear, I lower my lips to the blooms of her sex.
My tongue slowly lapping, and dipping into her tight slit. I thrust my tongue
further into her, and her hands reach my hair, and pushing her hips into my
mouth, her fingers tangled in my hair pulls it hard, urging me to get her to
her climax. I take my tongue out and run my stubble over her sensitive tissue,
and she shrieks in delight.
“Please,
Christian!” she begs.
“And
please you, I shall, baby…” I murmur, and suck her clit into my mouth while
relentlessly pleasuring her with my tongue. As she starts building and
screaming her pleasure, I dart my tongue into her sex, plunging deep, I swoop
it around counter clock wise, and find her secret spot in the front wall of her
vagina, giving her double orgasm.
As
she is writhing in pleasure, I plunge my cock to the root, driving her into the
mattress, pounding. Every slap my balls deliver to the base of her sex stimulates me even further, massaging, and coaxing. As I thrust my cock into the
depths of her sex, I hold Anastasia’s buttocks and gyrate my hips, locating her
sweet spot. When I further lean to capture Ana’s lips she moves down and pulls
my right nipple into her mouth between her teeth and then sucks… deep and hard making my cock
thicken even further in her sex. My urge to fuck her goes animalistic, and I
lean down grinning, forcing her lip up to meet mine. We’re all tongue, lips,
and sex, driving into each other madly. When we let go of the lips, I capture
her nipple, sucking her.
“Christian,
hurry!” she shouts, tipping me over the edge. We come loudly, both of us lost
in pleasure, both of us sticky with chocolate and sex. Grabbing her rolling
onto my back, I let her collapse onto me. Connected, holding each other, we lie
on the bed for several minutes.
“I’ve
missed this… I’ve missed fucking you, being inside of you, Mrs. Grey,” I say.
“Making
love,” she corrects me.
“No
matter how rough, how driven, how animalistic, it’s always making love with
you, wife…always.”
*****❦ ♡ ❧*****
After
shower we quietly dry each other. Anastasia’s bruises are nearly gone, thank
God. I slowly kneel down drying her body with a plush towel, and finally reaching down to her feet with the towel making sure she's completely dry.
“Are
you going to work today?” she asks.
“Yes,
I have work to catch up,” I say though I have quite a lot of work completed at
home. Linc might be released today. I have to prepare for a battle.
“I
want to go to work today. I’ve missed a lot of work, too.”
“I
would prefer that you stay home…” I say.
“Christian!”
she starts protesting. “I want to work. Hyde is in jail. Elisabeth is in jail.
I want to go to work. I’ll be bored to death at home,” she protests.
“You
didn’t let me finish,” I say softly, rising up. When we come face to face, I
lift her chin up to look at me. “…but, I will let you go to work if you follow
ALL the security protocols. It’s not just about you anymore. I need to protect
our baby as well,” I say my hand on her belly.
“You
want to keep this little blip safe, don’t you?” She nods her head, completely
silent, breathless. “Then you and I have to cooperate when it comes to your
safety and our baby’s…” she nods her agreement wordlessly, her eyes wide.
“There’s
going to be additional security at SIP…”I say and she rolls her eyes, groaning.
“Baby,
you have to remember that your boss, Elisabeth Morgan passed my security’s
scrutiny, your judgment and we’ve completely overlooked her relationship with
Hyde. There will always be others who will have ill will towards us. I’m a high
profile man, unapproachable for nearly all of those people who wish me harm. But you, my lovely wife,” I say holding her face in my hand, “…you are my Achilles
heel.” She frowns.
“I’m
not weak, Christian!”
“No,
baby,” I caress her cheek with the back of my hand. “No… You’re not weak. But I am
when it comes to you… Can you understand that?” I ask searching her face. “You
are the single most important person in the world to me. More important
to me than my own life! You are my safe place. The only person that has the power to
make me whole, to make me deliriously happy, madly in love, passionately angry,
and the only person who holds the power in her small hands to destroy me,” I
whisper.
“Christian!
How could you say that? Why or how would I destroy you? How could I wield such
a power?” she utters emphatically with hurt.
“Baby,
you are easier to approach. You are my world. If you’re gone in any shape or
form, I’m irrevocably destroyed. So, protecting yourself also means you’re
protecting our child, and your husband,” my voice goes lower. “We’re team, Ana.
How could you think I survive, if you didn’t?”
She
nods her head unequivocally, agreeing. “Okay. Yes, yes, to the security. But,
please give me room to breathe. Because I don’t want to have the fear of asking
your permission to do simple things, and not doing what you exactly want me to do in order to get a little room to breath. And…" she says changing gears, "I also want to thank you for treating
me like an adult and explaining,” she says swallowing.
There
are a lot more I need to conceal from her for the time being keep her from worrying. Lincoln is a
threat still to my family’s well-being.
*****❦ ♡ ❧*****
We
get dressed. Anastasia chooses a charcoal grey suit for me with a crisp white
shirt. She puts on her cream colored lace bra and underwear. The she sits on
the bed, and makes a mouthwatering show of putting her tan color silk stockings
on. When she clips them onto her garter belt, a hard swallow passes through my
throat. Locating her sleeveless cream colored silk blouse with a V neck
perfectly fitting her form, she puts it on and buttons them only up to the
bottom of her bra. I narrow my eyes on her. She only smiles mischievously in
response and then slowly, purposefully puts her pencil skirt on which matches
the color of my suit. After shaping her hair into a chignon she applies lip
gloss, eye liner and mascara. After rubbing and smacking her lips together, she
puts her tan high heeled Louboutins on. She looks good enough to peel those
clothes off and make love again!
“You
don’t plan on walking out of here, with this, are you? Wife?” I ask raising my
eyebrows. My index finger is tracing the lines of her silk bra.
“What
would you suggest, husband?” she asks batting her eyelashes innocently.
“These,”
I say my hand rubbing over her straining breasts, “these are mine! And so are
you! Don’t forget that. I don’t want other men ogling my wife. My pregnant
wife,” I whisper soft and dark.
“You’d
do well to button it up at least two more buttons,” I add.
“Oh,
Christian!” she protests. “Maybe one more. I’m yours! Everyone knows that,” she
negotiates rolling her eyes.
“Ok,
Mrs. Grey, one more. Just as long as everyone knows you’re mine.”
*****❦ ♡ ❧*****
The
ride to SIP is silent. I hold Anastasia’s hand, running gentle, sensual circles
inside her palm, then over her knuckles.
“How
do you feel?” I ask.
“Good.
I ate a lot at breakfast,” she says making a displeased face. “Mrs. Jones packed my lunch. I
think I’m good to go. I’m looking forward to getting back to normal,” she says
and I nod.
Taylor
pulls in front of the SIP, putting the car on park. Sawyer jumps out and opens
Ana’s door as Taylor opens my door. I step out of the car, and walk behind the
SUV in sure strides and hold my wife’s hand. Sawyer follows us a few steps back
discreetly. Coming to SIP’s door, I pull her to me, and kiss her with all I’ve
got. Nearly losing her, first thinking she was leaving me, and then thinking
she died, and finally seeing her in the hospital in a comatose state, permanently and conclusively changed me. Carpe Diem. I want to take every
opportunity to kiss her, love her and declare to everyone that this woman is my
wife! Mine and mine alone! When she’s thoroughly kissed and breathless, I hold
her hand again, and walk her into the building.
“Welcome
back Ana!” greets the African-American receptionist. Her large hoops of earring
are dangling as she stands up rushing to Ana to give her a hug, taking her
completely by surprise. Ana returns her hug with one hand as her other hand is
firmly held in mine. “Soooo glad to see you well! Oh, hello Mr. Grey!” she
says, her eyes widening. Finally, I manage to take Ana into her small office
with ‘welcome backs’ and other well wishes. But of course, every single one of
these employees are have already been thoroughly checked and examined. The
security Welch has put in SIP are as good as Sawyer. Their job is to watch
Ana, and tightly examine each and every visitor. They’re the first line of
defense to Anastasia.
Hearing
the commotion, Roach comes out. Seeing me in the building, his eyes widen, and
with hasty steps he approaches me.
“Mr.
Grey! How nice to see you. Is Ana back?”
“Yes,
she is back today.”
“Would
you like to sit down, sir?”
“No,
I just came to drop my wife off.”
“If
there’s anything…”
“Not
at the moment, Roach,” I say, nodding to Sawyer, I walk out.
“Examine
all the employees who wish to have contact with Ana. Other editors, staffers,
clients, everyone. Stay close to her, and let me know if anything, I do mean ANYTHING,”
I say emphasizing, “…is suspicious, different, or unexpected approaches Mrs.
Grey to if she intends to do anything of that nature,” I order.
“Yes,
sir.”
When
I get back to the SUV, Taylor lets me in the car and closes the door behind me.
His eyes meet mine on the rear-view mirror. I raise my eyebrows questioning.
“Welch
called. He’s at the Grey House with two of your lawyers. Lincoln has been
released on $250,000 bail this morning,” he states.
“Anything
else?” I ask with carefully reined anger.
“Yes,
three of Welch’s men are on stakeout 24/7 following his every move,” he says as
he puts the SUV in gear and eases into the morning traffic.
*****❦ ♡ ❧*****
“Mr.
Grey! How nice to see you, sir!” Andrea greets me.
“Thank
you Andrea. Where are they?” I ask.
“I
thought it would be best to put them in Meeting Room 1, but if you wish I can
send them to your office. What would you prefer?”
“Send
them into my office in ten minutes.”
“Yes,
sir. Would you like me to go over your schedule now, or after you’re done with
your meeting?”
“After
would be fine.”
I
turn my computer on, and sit in my leather executive chair. Andrea’s
disembodied voice alerts me of my company.
“Send
them in Andrea,” I say, the back of my chair turned to the door. My gaze is
fixed on the city of Seattle. I hear the door close behind me. Someone clears
his throat.
“Sit
down gentlemen,” I say.
“Taylor,”
I hear Welch’s short greeting.
“Welch,”
he responds with a greeting of his own, equal in its cool.
I
turn my chair around to meet three curious gazes, two of which are anxious
except for Welch.
“What
have you got for me this morning?” I ask turning my gaze to the lawyer who
fucked up with Hyde’s release.
“Mr.
Grey,” he starts clearing his throat, the swallowing. “Mr. Lincoln has been
released this morning on $250,000 bail. We have of course made every attempt to
prevent his release. The two security guards who have been seriously injured
have filed complaints, and we have made it very clear to the judge that if Mr.
Lincoln is released on bail, he has the potential of harming others as he has
harmed two security guards who were only doing their jobs. His attorneys argued
that the Mr. Lincoln experienced extenuating circumstance with a hostile takeover of his company and was in a complete shock. He
thought he was going to his own company where he was the CEO and finding
resistance from the security guards when they tried to prevent his access, his
lawyers argued that Lincoln went into temporary insanity.”
I
look at Welch. Raise my eyebrows wordlessly, questioning whether he was at the
hearing.
“Yes,
sir I was there,” he replies gives me an imperceptible nod confirming what the
lawyer is saying. My lawyers Trent Baxter who is still on my shit-list and
Larry Hodge look surprised.
“How
did you rebuttal Lincoln’s lawyer’s statement?” I say in a menacingly soft
voice, the focus of my piercing gaze is singularly located on Baxter. He shifts
in his seat uncomfortably. Then Hodge clears his throat.
“If
you allow me Mr. Grey, I’ve made that argument. I argued that Mr. Lincoln is
not the owner of Lincoln Timber, but the CEO even if the company that bears his
name. It has been a public entity for the last 15 years. For him to claim it as
his own would be fallacious. In business world companies and stocks are traded
and it should not be a shock to Mr. Lincoln that a publicly traded company will
have buyers and the ownership of it will change daily. That’s the nature of
corporate business. Understanding this fact, Mr. Lincoln has made the company
public, offering ALL of its stock for sale fifteen years ago, and appointing himself as the CEO.
The
outcome of such an act should not surprise Mr. Lincoln, because has made the
decision to forego of the entitlements the ownership of a private company, in
return accepting a position only as a CEO, and the governing board has the
power to vote a CEO out of a job even if the company wasn't sold. These are all written in the corporate
charter which he signed.
Therefore,
it was not a temporary insanity problem Mr. Lincoln experienced, but a severe
anger management issue which left two security guards with broken limbs and
bones who will take weeks if not months to recover.”
“His
lawyer argued that in due process, if the governing board voted the CEO
out, Mr. Lincoln would have to be informed face to face; they argued that he was fired without an agreed on communication plan.
They said that he had not even received a phone call.”
“What
did you say to that?”
“He
said,” Welch says looking at Larry, “your honor, Mr. Lincoln isn’t fired. He’s
still the CEO. A lot of the decisions in regards to the purchase and inclusion
of Lincoln Timber is still under gag order. Therefore I’m not at liberty to
discuss the details per the provisions of those laws governing that business
transaction. But what I can tell you is that Mr. Lincoln should have contacted
his new boss, Mr. Christian Grey as opposed to beating the security guards an
inch of their lives.’ Then of course, Lincoln’s face changed, he jumped to his
feet, his shackles and cuffs jangling and shouted, ‘who the fuck did you say?’
Guess he didn’t know for sure that it was you who fucked him over. His face was
priceless, by the way.
The
judge called the court to order and severely reprimanded Lincoln’s lawyer to restrain
his client. Then Lincoln shouted that such information was to be told to him
face to face, and not over the phone or not in the mail. But Baxter here,” says
Welch jabbing his thumb in Baxter’s direction, “…said that Lincoln never gave
the due process a chance. The certified mail just arrived that very day which
of course the final day of the waiting period, and the land wasn’t even owned
by us anymore, but by two other companies. In truth, it wasn't even our business to tell him anyway. Lincoln was meddling into
the other companies’ business dealings.’
‘I
am the CEO of Lincoln Timber!’ he shouted, and of course the Judge was pretty
pissed by then and said his lawyers better restrain their client for the last
time, if he has another outburst like that he will be removed from the
courtroom. And Baxter here said that Mr. Lincoln did not lose his job at all. He was
still the CEO of Lincoln Timber and he needed to confer with his new boss, namely
you, sir,” Welch finishes.
“What
did the judge order?” I ask, Welch continues.
“Before
the judge could order anything, Lincoln jumped up, and his lawyers stood up on
both sides, trying to force him down back to his seat, and being cuffed and
shackled he shoved them both, and tried to lunge forward towards your lawyers.
The bailiff ran and a couple of them tackled Lincoln down as he was still
writhing and struggling. They removed him from the courtroom, of course. The judge saw firsthand
that he was having anger management issues. After he was removed, and his
lawyers cleaned themselves up, then the judge ordered the asshole, I mean, Mr. Lincoln to
go through an intensive anger management course and the reports were to be
submitted to the court as well as go through a psychiatric evaluation to see if
he has other issues as his attorneys claimed to get a treatment…”
Baxter
cuts into the conversation and says, “this outburst of behavior is precisely
what will aid us, sir. Because we can claim that Mr. Lincoln is unfit to make
healthy management decisions and therefore it is better if he stepped down from
his position as the CEO of Lincoln Timber which of course is a company no
longer exists. He will come here this afternoon as Mr. Welch has indicated,” he
says and starts babbling on how his research over the weekend, which was time
away from his plans of sailing with his family. And all his efforts now gave us
the glowing results he managed to pull through this morning.
“Stop!
Talking!” I order in a dangerous, but clear voice resonating through my office.
Even though I’m not shouting, and my voice is in a soft tone, it is
unmistakably commanding and dominating. Baxter stops immediately.
I
turn my face to Welch.
“He’s
due here at 1:30 p.m. today.”
“Got
the paperwork?” I ask Larry.
Baxter
clears his throat again. “I prepared them for you on Sunday, sir,” he says
extending a large folder.
“I
went over the corporate charter and the clauses to fire the CEO. The rules state…” he starts.
“I
know what the corporate charter contains Baxter. I am well aware of the clauses
Lincoln has put in to cover his ass. The new clauses indicated that they didn’t
foresee a revenue growth until 2014 due to the global recession, and if he was
fired for not turning a corporate profit, he would have to have his lawyers
waiting for him.
If
he was being fired for reasons other than profit, then that would have to be
sexual harassment, specter of a bad PR, or facing allegations of expense fraud.
It doesn’t even have to be proven. It just has to be a substantial allegation.
I have PROOF!” I say and slam my folder down to my mahogany table making both
Baxter and Larry jump. “I have the paper trail and not just an allegation. What
I want you to draft now is a strong separation agreement so that if he takes
another job I can live with it and he will never get to sue me or ask for a
settlement. Put in the breach clauses. Should he breach the agreement, then he
agrees to the financial penalties without argument or refusal.”
Both
Baxter and Larry look dumbfounded. They blink for a minute wordlessly, their
mouths agape with identical facial expressions.
“Close
your mouths,” says Welch, shaking his head.
“It’ll
take me at least until late tomorrow to draft it and it might not even be ready by
Wednesday, uhm, sir,” babbles Baxter.
“You
have until 1 p.m. today. You two better get to it then. I don’t care how you do
it. My assistant can provide you one of the meeting rooms to work in. Call your
assistants; get it done on time, by not one minute later than 1:00 p.m. today,
gentlemen!”
“Mr.
Grey, it’s a bit complicated…” wrings Baxter his hands. “You see, I’m due in
court this afternoon, and I was going to attend a dinner by the Washington
Bar Association.”
“Apparently
I’m not making myself clear… Baxter!” I hiss leaning on my table, my hand
splayed. He takes an involuntary step back. “I was hoping that there was a
whole brain between the two of you. I don’t want, need or care for your
excuses. I don’t give a shit about your next court schedule, or who you will
rub elbows with tonight, or what school function your brood is going to have
that you absolutely must attend!” I exhale through my flaring nostrils. My eyes
are focused on Baxter.
“I’m
asking you one God damned task!” I shout only loud enough as I slam both my
fists on the table. “You will complete this task today by the appointed time
without excuses, without a single letter out of place, and on time. Welch,
clearly they can’t do anything without being baby sat! I need you to look over
every fucking detail they write, and bring it to me before the fucker arrives.
Do you have any excuses Larry?” I ask my senior attorney.
“No,
sir. I never did,” he says giving Baxter a dirty look for getting him in
trouble. “I have no problem completing the contract and then some.”
“Very
well. Do it!”
As
Welch herds out the now skittish Baxter, huffing Larry who is still scowling at
his associate, Taylor suppresses a smile and trains his gaze on the lamp
directly in his line of vision.
I
sit back in my chair, and Andrea comes into the office with her tablet.
“Mr.
Grey, is now a good time to go over your schedule?”
“Yes,
let’s.”
“Since,
you said that you weren’t absolutely sure if you were coming today, there’s one
scheduled meeting after lunch, and Ros would like to have a meeting with you
over lunch. I also e-mailed you design schematics from the engineering team for
the wind-up technology with a solar back-up…” she says and I raise my eyebrows
interested.
“They
were looking to schedule a meeting this week. Shall I put a meeting in the
agenda, sir?”
“Tomorrow
perhaps, sometime in the morning. I might not be available in the afternoon,” I
say thoughtful. “Get me an appointment with Dr. Flynn tomorrow afternoon after
business hours, five p.m.”
“If
he’s not available, is there any other day you wish to make the appointment?”
What the hell is this today? All of a sudden, I have to accommodate others.
“No,
Andrea! I want my appointment at five p.m. tomorrow evening. Not 4:55 not 5:05
p.m. 5:00 pm. Got it? That’s the only slot I want. And the only way there won’t
be any appointment tomorrow is if Dr. Flynn is dead,” I order with my gaze
fixed on her.
“My
apologies, sir. Of course. Five p.m. at Dr. Flynn’s office.” I pay Flynn a
small fortune to be accommodating and available. I have not had an appointment
with him in the last few weeks. He can fucking accommodate me!
“Is
there anything else I can do for you sir?”
“That
would be all.” Andrea retreats from my office quickly like a rat running away
from a sinking ship.
As
soon as Andrea leaves, I dial Anastasia’s number. She answers after six rings.
The late reply momentarily concerns me. Just before her voice mail picks up,
she responds in a breathy voice.
“Helloo?”
“Ana!
Are you alright?” She clears her throat, and takes a gulp of something. Water?
“Yes,
I am. I had something to eat, but it didn’t agree with me, and well, just came
back from the bathroom. I rushed through my door to get to the phone, and I
nearly stumbled on my heels.”
“What?”
I say standing up. Taylor is alert. I shake my head.
“Calm
down. I didn’t fall down. When I heard your ring tone, I was anxious to talk to
you. I’ve missed you today.”
“I
missed you too, baby,” I whisper.
“Listen,
Christian. I talked to Ray this morning, and he said he is going to be
discharged this afternoon. I wanted to leave early at maybe 3:30 and see him
before he leaves.”
“Ana,
I’ll come with you. Or rather, I’ll meet you at the hospital. I have a meeting
this afternoon. I’ll leave as soon as I’m done with it. Who’s taking Ray back
to Montesano?”
“Jose
and Mr. Rodriguez,” she responds softly.
I
remain quiet for thirty seconds.
“Are
you mad?” she asks.
“Truth?”
“That
would be nice."
“Well, I'm not mad, however I’m always jealous of my wife, but I’ll deal,” I respond.
“Oh,
Christian. I’m yours, and I love you. You have nothing to be jealous about. You are my husband and the father of our baby,” she says emphatically. And
somehow the knowledge, the proof of my possession, our baby is more than
welcome if she gets to see Jose Rodriguez this evening.
“Yes,
I am. Okay, I’ll see you after my meeting. I love you.”
“I
love you too, Christian.”
“And
Ana…”
“Yes?”
“Sawyer
comes with you everywhere. Lunch in the office.”
“Oh,
Christian. I just puked my lunch out. I might have to go to the deli and get
something else to eat.”
“Remember
to go with Sawyer!”
“Yes,
Sir!” she says exasperated.
“I
know you’re rolling your eyes,” I whisper. She giggles in response.
“I
know you do, Mr. Grey. Hang up now. I’ve got tons of work to do before I go to
the hospital.”
“No,
you first.”
“You
know I don’t want to,” she says giggling.
“I’ve
missed you already, Ana.”
“I’ve
missed you too, husband. But…” but we’re interrupted by her intercom.
“Ana,
Mr. Roach would like to talk to you. Could you pick up line 1 please?”
“Guess
I have to go. My boss is calling.”
“What
the hell does he want?”
“I
won’t know until I pick up the phone, Christian. I’ll see later at the
hospital. I love you!”
“I
love you, too. Bye baby.”
“Bye!”
she says and we both hang up at the same time.
Jose
Rodriguez… Ironically, I don’t feel as insecure about his presence near my wife
at the hospital. There is a certain sense of ease in me. I am absolutely sure
of my wife’s love for me, and we have the blip to prove it. Our blip. Not Rodriguez’s.
Ours… Ana’s and mine.
“Mr.
Grey? Ros is here sir,” Andrea’s disembodied voice calls, bringing me out of my
self pep-talk.
“Send
her in!”
Fifteen
seconds later Ros walks through the door.
“Hi,
Christian! Welcome back. How’s Ana?”
“She’s
well, thank you. Also back to work today.”
“I
thought we’d discuss strategy when you do the honors of firing Mr. Lincoln’s
very violent ass.”
“You
talked to the lawyers?”
“Talked
to them? I was at the court this morning. I wanted to take notes. I think the
firing was going to come, and I wanted to assess and measure the man myself.”
“And
what’s your conclusion?” I ask curiously.
“Infuriated
but controlled, domineering and calculating. But the biggest kicker was when he
heard your name, he had the look of a deer in the headlights; completely blindsided
which changed in an instant to something I had never seen before. Pure,
absolute hatred which makes him extremely dangerous, Christian. He reined in
his temper which was in a flash. I’ve never seen anyone to go from full blown
rage into a placid face; like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” I will have to keep
Lincoln under tight scrutiny to prevent him causing any harm to my family.
“He’s
Jekyll alright. Hyde’s ass is already in jail.”
“What?”
“Nothing…Let’s
just go to lunch, and discuss the strategy,” I say, and Taylor opens the door
for us.
*****❦ ♡ ❧*****
We
are back at exactly 12:55. The lawyers are ready with the contract I asked them
to draft.
“Ros,
let’s go over the items on the contact,” I say. She takes a chair pulling it up
next to me and in the next twenty minutes, we go over each item on the
contract. Feeling satisfied with the outcome, she takes one of the copies in
the folder.
Andrea walks in:
“Mr.
Grey your next meeting has arrived. I’ve taken them into the Meeting Room 3,
sir.”
“How
many of them?”
“Mr.
Lincoln and two of his lawyers, sir.”
“Showtime,
Ros,” I say and exit my office flanked by Ros and Taylor. My lawyers and Welch
are waiting outside my office.
We
open the door to the Meeting Room 3, and Lincoln is pacing the room as his
lawyers are situated in their seats looking extremely uncomfortable. Their
demeanor changes as we enter into the room.
Lincoln’s
gaze gets colder and colder when he sees me. His eyes are solely focused on me.
We are two predators caged in the same environment.
“Welcome
everyone, please be seated,” Ros says pleasantly as my group take their seats except Taylor and Welch. They take the opposite sides of the door in a guarding position. Lincoln takes note of their stance.
“I
don’t have to listen to a cunt!” hisses Lincoln.
“Well,
shut your mouth up so you don’t have to hear yourself Mr. Lincoln. Seat
yourself,” says Ros still smiling.
Linc’s
gaze and mine are locked, and both of our stares are filled with rage, and
animosity towards each other.
“So,
you stole my company out under me and you think you can get away with it?” he
hisses.
“Mr.
Lincoln?” warns his lawyer. He shoves his lawyer's arm.
“You
have not had a company for the last 15 years. It was a public company where you
were
the CEO,” I say calm and controlled, exerting all my faculties to rein in my
temper. I want to fucking beat the shit out of him. But I will not give him the
satisfaction of breaking down and giving into my anger. A dominant knows how to
manage that anger. “However, since last week after your violent outbursts where
you harmed my employees on my land…” I say but he cuts me off.
“Your
land! Your land?? Are you fucking insane? It’s been my land since my
grandfather! It’s my company’s land!” he shouts, trembling in his spot.
“Mr.
fucking Lincoln! Let me remind you again since it doesn’t seem to register in
your brain that you have not owned the company in the last
15 years. It hasn't been yours to begin with.” The words are out of my lips like a poisonous hiss. “I cannot in good
conscience continue to employ you Mr. Lincoln. Hospitalizing two of my company's employees, combined with today’s outbursts
at the court, you have proven that you have anger management issues and
possibly manic episodes or schizophrenia which would be detrimental for a high
level officer in my company; a risk we are not willing to take. You are fucking fired Mr. Lincoln!”
“How
dare you?! How dare you fire me! How dare you sell my fucking company I worked
so hard for?”
Woke up This Morning - Alabama
“I
dare Mr. Lincoln. You stirred the hornet’s nest! You fuck with me, I will make
sure you are impotent to never to fuck with anyone else again!”
“You
sold my company!” he shouts! "My fucking heritage!"
“I
sold a company where I owned the majority of the stocks; a company from which you stole nearly
$54 million Dollars! What have you done with the investors’ money, Lincoln?” He pales with the accusation, but quickly composes himself.
“You
have no proof of that!” he says, but his voice is hesitant, knowing well that he has embezzled.
“Oh,
I have plenty of proof. IRS is eager to hear stashed away money in various off shore accounts, and I can’t wait to see the look on your face when
the Feds indict your ass and put you away for a very long time!”
“You
fucking dare to threaten me? Who do you think you are, prick! Who do you think
you are? You are nothing! Do you hear me? You are fucking nothing! Less than
nothing. Do you think the clothes you wear make you a man? Well, do you? You
are absolutely NOTHING, son of a whore fucked by countless johns, a pathetic adopted bastard! All you will ever be is nothing!” Everyone's mouth drops open including his lawyers'. Taylor's body shifts toward Lincoln ready to attack any moment.
These lines might have worked on my insecurities a week ago, but not today. I have a
wife who is in love with me and we are expecting our child. My parents love me;
my sister and brother love me. I am a fucking happy man, who is an orphan no
longer. When he sees no change in my face, he gets even more furious. He tries
to lunge forward.
“Guess that's all you got," I say calmly. I take a relaxed breath, though I'm anything but. "Lincoln,
I’m giving you one and only option that will be offered to you today and the time is
now. This get out of jail free clause will never be offered to you again. Ever!
If you sign a contract firing yourself from the Lincoln Timber and you will not
be turned over to the Feds, the IRS not to mention the investors who put their
money and trust in your sticky hands. I will make sure that every penny I make
from the sale of each single timber, plywood, land, asset of Lincoln Timber that your grandfather has established, your legacy as you put it is
dedicated prosecuting you to the highest extent of law and make sure that you
will never see a free day again for the rest of your pathetic life!”
“Mr.
Grey, your accusations of Mr. Lincoln is baseless! We’ve come here to fulfill
the judge’s request today…” his lawyer starts.
“Shut
up Wazowski!” hisses Lincoln without even looking at him. His gaze is locked on
me alone. His custom tailored Alexander Amosu suit moves with his body as if he’s
born in it. I know his suit alone to be well over $17,000. It’s custom fit, and
the fabric is hand selected. I have three similar suits. Amosu’s prices start
at £3,500 and his most expensive suite is just under $900,000. Lincoln has
probably his most expensive ensemble on him today because he clearly wants to
establish his supremacy in every possible way. He wants to look like million bucks, outshine, and outdo me. But that tactic wouldn’t work on me. I
can outdo him in my birthday suit.
“Mr.
Lincoln, I suggest you sit down sir,” says his second lawyer silently urging him to calm down.
“Get
out!” he hisses under his breath.
“What?
Sir, we are looking out for your interest here.”
“I
said get the fuck out!” he shouts slowly losing his battle to his rage. My
presence is tipping his carefully restrained menace.
“Mr.
Lincoln! Roger!” says the older attorney. “Think carefully. Speak carefully…”
he says in a voice a little louder than a whisper.
“Tom,
you have been my attorney and a friend for twenty five years. But right now, I
don’t give a shit about either one of that. Get your fucking ass out of this
room!” he hisses with pure malice in his voice. He spares his glance at his
friend and not even a hair softens in his demeanor.
“This
is my oooold ffffrienddddd, aren’t you Christian?” he enunciates slowly, a
predatory grin overtakes his lips, showing his large, whitened teeth as his
eyes try to exert his will and supremacy on me. In that glance I can see that
there’s nearly nothing human on his face. He is finally laying all his cards on the table. “Yes, we go waaay back to a time when
he was nothing… Less than nothing, a drunken teenager who slept with another man’s
wife to cover his costly addictions who perhaps gave you the alcohol money?” he asks raising his eyebrows.
My
gaze trains on him. Rage, fury rises in me. I can strangle this fucker, but
that’s exactly what he wants. I won’t give into his will. This is his way of
demanding submission from me even in the presence of a roomful of people.
“I
don’t doubt one minute that you would also sleep with that woman’s husband as
long as your needs were met!” Taylor stiffens, every muscle in his body is
trained on Lincoln; barely restraining himself ready to attack, waiting for my
command. He looks at me, and my gaze says 'no'.
“Wow!
I know that losing to someone in business and in life in every fucking aspect this
spectacularly
must be killing you,” I enunciate as I rise up like a predator from my seat, “Mr. Lincoln. To someone who is
nearly half your age, someone who isn’t even 30… To think that you envied my
abilities since I was a teenager in some sick fantasy, seeing my potential to
overtake your useless life in an imaginary jealousy is simply unbelievable. You
have created your own self-fulfilling prophecy. After all, I AM
your superior, your boss, your god, the man who is better in every fucking
thing you can ever dream of achieving! I am the man who holds your
fate in his hands… Do you really want to cross me, Lincoln?” I hiss in a
malicious tone, arching my eyebrows, and take three confident, arrogant, and
domineering steps towards him.
“But, I
don’t know whether to congratulate you, or sue you in a libel suit and take the $54 million bucks
you stole, for making these colorful accusations created in your very vivid imagination, Mr. Lincoln. I am now convinced more than ever that you also need
to be locked into a mental institution. We have plenty of witnesses here.”
“You
stole my company!” he shouts.
“I
bought the company which you made public fifteen years ago. Anyone can buy it! It’s
perfectly legal. You, you made it public!” I raise my
voice pointing an accusatory finger. “So, in all your years in business, it
never occurred to you that someone, someday might come and buy it when you so
made it available for purchase? And now you come and make fantastic accusations
because I own your ass, lot, stock and barrel! I’m a businessman Mr. Lincoln. I
was aware of the fact that one of the companies where I own large stocks, a
company that should be doing well is simply was not generating enough return. Then
I discover that there are large sums of money being embezzled by none other than you…”
As
angry as Lincoln gets, he never mentions paying for Hyde’s bail. It’s the giant
shit colored elephant no one talks about. I’m not about to give him the
evidence and make him aware of what else I have over his head. But, I have
every intention of making him suffer the way he made me suffer by causing harm
to my wife and sister! He doesn’t want to incriminate himself here. He has that
control and I can see it in every carefully chosen word he utters no matter how
impromptu or how personal he may sound. What he wants is to get me riled up,
lose my cool, and attack him so that he has something to hold over me both for
when we are alone and in public; that's his tactic to get me submit to his provocation. I wouldn’t be surprised if he lay down, remain motionless and let
me beat the shit out of him just to get me arrested. I will never give him that satisfaction, or the control.
I will beat the shit out of him alright, but in at a time and a place of my own
choosing. Not in video feed, and in the sight of many witnesses. He wants
revenge, I’ll give him revenge my way.
“I
don’t look kindly on being robbed in broad daylight, Mr. Lincoln. I have the
money trail. All I have to do is just leak it to Seattle Time, and I can
guarantee you that all the investors you’ve had over the years will come to
devour you faster than Great White sharks!”
Lincoln
grits his teeth so forcefully, everyone can hear the noise. His attorneys are
half sitting and half getting up to leave the room for the last three minutes,
somehow unable to move from their positions.
“What
the fuck do you want after you sold my entire fucking company right under my dick?” he shouts. I grin knowing I got him in the submissive position.
“I
want you to fire yourself! The corporate charter states that even the
allegation of expense fraud is enough reason for me to fire you. I have proof, not just
allegation! I want you to sign the separation agreement. I will have control over where and when you have a job next time. You will agree to all of the breach clauses.
Should you breach the agreement my lawyers have drafted, then you agree to the
financial penalties without argument or refusal,” I state.
"I thought you were already firing me! Why are you asking me to do it?" he asks.
"I think you know the answer to that Mr. Lincoln," I say with an impassive gaze. I want the pleasure of seeing him end his own career. My revenge.
“If
I don’t?” he ask with murderous malice.
“If
you don’t, I promise you that you will be back to the jail in short enough time
to make it there for dinner…” I remain silent for twenty seconds to let that
sink in. “After you sign the papers today, if you ever, ever
cross my path, or get involved in anything that would directly or indirectly
cause harm to anyone I know,” I say my gaze getting serious, and his with a triumphant
glint, “I will not question you, take you to court, or have a civilized meeting
like this. Even if you were to dream about causing harm to anyone I know, if they
sneeze because you coughed on them, I promise that the day you saw your company
sold piece by fucking piece compared to what I will do to you was holiday in
the Hamptons.”
“I
want to keep my personal assets!” he hisses. “What more do you want? You’ve
taken all of my company!”
“For
the last time: It was not your company to begin with. Not for the last 15
years. I will promise nothing. You deserve no favors! Your personal assets are
monies stolen from what is rightfully mine now. This is non-negotiable. You
either take the deal I give you, or I will fucking make sure that every penny
earned from your granddaddy’s company is spent on prosecuting you to the
fullest extent of the law!”
“I’ll
sign. But this isn’t over Grey!” he hisses.
Before
I can say, “A threat?” Taylor, blindsides him and hits him under the jaw, and
crosses both his arms into a submissive position, slamming him down to the
table, making everyone jump except for me and Welch.
“I
am Mr. Grey’s bodyguard. Any implied threat is taken seriously, Mr. Lincoln,”
Taylor hisses to his ear. “Do you want me to escort this asshole to the sheriff’s
deputies, Mr. Grey? The judge already knows his fucking anger management issues
and mental instability to making this fucker a menace to society. In light of
the recent events, this will not be taken lightly at the court, sir. He can
keep his girlfriend Hyde in company.”
“I
said I’ll sign!” Lincoln says in a muffled voice, his face pressed down on to
the table.
“Let
him sign.”
Taylor
shoves him, and stands only two feet behind Lincoln. Baxter stands up and gives
a copy to Lincoln and a copy each to his lawyers. Lincoln goes over each page,
reading, initialing and signing as directed by Baxter. His lawyers sign
witnessing his signature. All three of the documents are signed and notarized
before witnesses. Check mate!
“Show
yourselves out!” I say as I turn on my heels leaving the room with Taylor
following behind me.
As
Taylor closes the door behind him, he asks, “Where to sir?”
“To
the hospital to see Ray.” Taylor nods and presses the call button of the
elevator with a rare smile.
♥Happy 22nd Birthday Rach! ♥
Next update is on August 13th at night. Thank you for waiting patiently!
Next update is on August 13th at night. Thank you for waiting patiently!