Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 87

“Will you come home?”

“I don’t see any reason to cut my honeymoon short. The fire was contained and hasn’t done any

damage.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“Grace. It’s okay.”

She sighs. “If you say so, darling. How is your honeymoon going?”

“Well, up until this incident—it’s been wonderful. Ana loves London and Paris and the yacht, she’s yar.”

“Sounds heavenly. Did you go to Saint-Paul-de-Vence?”

“We did. Today. It was magical.”

“I fell in love with the place. I won’t keep you, I know you’ll have a lot to think about and do. The reason

I called was to invite you and Ana to lunch on Sunday, when you’re home.”

“Sure. That sounds great.”

“Lovely. See you then. And, Christian, remember, we love you.” Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

“Yes, Mom. Thanks for the call.”

When I hang up there’s an e-mail from Ana.

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: Thank You

Date: August 17 2011 16:55

To: Christian Grey

For not being too grouchy.

Your loving wife

xxx

I type back.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Trying to Stay Calm

Date: August 17 2011 16:59

To: Anastasia Grey

You’re welcome.

Come back in one piece.

This is not a request.

x

Christian Grey

CEO & Overprotective Husband, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

A couple of hours later, I’m sitting at the small desk in the study and I get the call I’ve been dreading.

“It’s arson,” Welch says.

“Fuck.” My heart sinks.

Who the hell is doing this to me? What do they want?

“Exactly. A small incendiary device was placed beside one of the server cabinets. Interestingly, it was

designed to set off smoke, but that’s it. I think it’s a warning.”

A warning?

“Any idea when it was placed?” I ask.

“We don’t have that information, yet. We’ve already doubled security. I’ll post a guard 24/7 outside the

server room. I know it’s the lifeblood of the company.”

“Good idea.”

“Will you come back early?”

“Do I need to?” I don’t want to end our honeymoon.

“No. I don’t think so. I think the biggest question for me right now is if this is linked to your EC135.”

“Let’s assume it is. That’s the worst-case scenario.”

“Yes. I think that’s prudent,” Welch responds.

“There’s nothing I can achieve there that I can’t do here. Besides, I think we’re safer on the boat.”

“There’s that,” he agrees, then pauses. “I know all our leads for a potential suspect have led to nothing.

But we’ll double-check all the footage in and around Grey House. We will find this person.”

“Do. Nail the prick.”

“The police forensics team are in the server room right now, dusting for prints.”

“I bet Barney’s thrilled about that.”

Welch’s laugh is wry. “He’s not.”

“Goddamn it, this is frustrating,” I mutter into the phone.

“I know, Christian. The EC135 was dusted for prints by the FBI a few weeks ago. We’re still waiting to

see if that yields a suspect. Eurocopter have the helicopter now. They’re assessing the damage to see

if it can be repaired.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll call if there’s an update.”

“Thank you.” I hang up and stare at the coastline, where the city lights of Cannes are beginning to

wake and welcome the dusk.

What the hell am I going to do?

What have I done to deserve this?

Grey, don’t go there.

The tender is being craned onto the bridge deck, which means Ana must have returned.

Ana. My girl.

She might get caught in this crossfire. I put my head in my hands in an attempt to drive the image of

Ana lying unmoving on the floor from my psyche.

If anything happened to her…

The thought is torture. I need to see that she’s back in one piece. Now.

Quelling my morbid thoughts, I go in search of her. Stopping outside the master cabin door, I take a

deep breath to calm my anxiety, and step inside. Ana is sitting on the bed with a parcel beside her. “You

were gone some time.”

Startled, she looks up and eyes me warily. “Everything in control at your office?”

“More or less.” I don’t tell her more; I don’t want to worry her.

“I did a little shopping,” she says with a sweet smile.

“What did you buy?”

“This.” She places her foot on the bed, and around her ankle there’s a silver ankle chain.

“Very nice.” I run my fingers over the little bells that hang from the chain. They have a sweet, delicate

chime, but the chain doesn’t hide the faint red line from the cuff yesterday.

The mark I left on her.

Hell.

“And this.” She holds out a wrapped gift box, a little too eagerly—to distract me, I think. Of course,

she’s bought me something, and my mood switches to curious delight.

“For me?” The package is surprisingly heavy. Sitting down beside her, I give it a quick shake. Grinning,

I clasp her chin and kiss her. “Thank you.”

“You haven’t opened it yet.”

“I’ll love it, whatever it is. I don’t get many presents.”

“It’s hard to buy you things. You have everything.”

“I have you.”

“You do.” She smiles.

I unwrap the paper to find a digital SLR camera. “A Nikon?”

“I know you have your compact digital camera, but this is for…portraits and the like. It comes with two

lenses.”

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