All Characters respectfully belong to Fifty Shades Trilogy by E.L. James.
Prologue - Awakening
I twist the handkerchief in my hands violently refusing to lift my gaze to the eyes boring into my skull. I focus all of my will power on the elegantly embroidered monogram CG lettering on the corner.
My mind is as white as a sheet of paper, still not digesting the events that happened not less than an hour ago in this penthouse, the ivory tower, in the great room, with the white-sheet covered corpse still laying on the cold floor among the shattered glass, the knocked over flowers and the round center table.
And although I am sitting in the dining room, the one for special company though it never served its purpose, far removed from the sight of said body, the image is burning loud and clear into my mind. Scenes that I will never forget, one that will haunt me till my dying day.
I close my eyes and I am transported back to that moment and I remember the face, the eyes and the blood. All that splattered blood, on the walls, the floor, little bits on the ceiling though shocking that it has made it there considering how truly high the ceiling was. And as I look down, there were drops of him on my clothes.
Swallowing the bile and willing my nausea to subside I returning to the piece of cloth still being vandalized by my fingers as I clutched it even tighter, it served as a tranquilizer to my nerves. I hunched over as I refused to even acknowledge the trained eyes on me, refusing to even let them enter my peripheral vision.
Thought I know they are there and I hear them discussing about me, about the body, what to do next, the necessary procedures and from one moment to another they glance in my direction as I sat there silently. I uttered not a single word, shed not a single tear, and merely cocooned myself.
I wasn't mentally prepared to see the hand that entered my field of vision, and covered both my hands in one of his, seeming miniature in size in comparison. The startling contact of his warmed palm on my freezing pale skin jolted some life into me. This hand, this beautiful muscular, strong yet gentle hand that I have been familiar with on infinite moments brought on a new shade of haze in my numbed cerebrum.
I lift my head and my eyes immediately transfix to his grey eyes, expecting to see rage or anger in their beautiful orbs. But I see only worry for me.
"Ana? Are you ok?" his beautiful deep voice lances at my heart. He already has so much on his shoulders, yet I add more sitting here so passively.
I nod, still not quite sure where I have misplaced my voice. Probably left it there with the dead body.
No don't go there! Your husband needs you to be strong. You have to be stronger. If you are both strong together then you will survive this. If you are strong, you are invincible!
Immediately I took in the other eyes focused on me. The familiar eyes assessing me and the stranger eyes dissecting me. The familiar eyes belonging to the people whom I personally trusted and knew quite well, those were filled with concern and worry, Taylor, Sawyer, Ryan, Mrs. Jones, and even Dr. John Flynn. The not so familiar faces, which I knew by name, yet not by any other identity were Barney … Sullivan? And Marcus Welch who looks likes a carbon clone of Taylor. I wouldn't be surprised if they were related. And the last person was one I didn't quite catch his name, the one other than me that looked slightly out of place, and one that I wished to not let my gaze linger on for too long.
I shouldn't have been placed at the head of the table, for them to study me so closely. But everything happened so fast, so sudden, and the aftermath left me almost in a state of paralysis. But that is the least of my worries, shuddering at the thought.
"Anastasia, I need you to focus, baby." I looked back to my beautiful angel, my savior in this disaster. And at this very moment, my voice of reason in this swirling chaos of my mind. "This is a critical moment, and as much as I would want nothing more than to relieve you of these horrid …."
"No, I am as much a part of this and more, than anyone in this room. I will not push that responsibility on others, Christian." I interrupted.
I wont be kept in the dark, not now and not ever. I wont be cuddled and sheltered like a little child. After what I did I deserve the complete opposite. I deserve a hard, cold slap to the face to handle the consequences of my actions.
He is dead because of me. And as much as I willed myself to feel some semblance of remorse and guilt and blame, I felt nothing but calm. A numbing sedate induced, fog of calm.
My beautiful grey-eyed husband with his beautiful lips, now pressed in a thin line in anger at my stubbornness slumped in his seat resigned at my resolve to play my role in this and not be the innocent bystander.
Innocent no more. And certainly not a bystander.
After all it was my finger that pulled the trigger, which set these events into motion.
"Anastasia, you have already been through the wringer. You don't have to put on a brave face. Let Gail fix something for you, baby. And John is here if you need to talk." He stroked his thumb on my knuckles. "We will handle the rest."
"I am perfectly fine, Christian! The more you talk down to me, the more agitated I become." I glared at my beloved husband. Daring him to say otherwise. He sat there, momentarily stunned before he put on that well control passive CEO mode mask.
"I killed someone. I. killed. him." I can see the rage and conflict in his eyes. "I wish I can say that I take it back, but I wont. He terrorized us. Nearly succeeded in killing you. He got what was coming to him. And if I had a do-over, I would do it again."
I pried one of my hands from under his and placed on his hand, relishing the warmth, squeezing it for his assurance and mine. "Fine. But if I find that for one second you cant handle it, you falter for even an inkling, you leave the room." He said. His Dom side slithering through the cracks.
"Christian, considering what she has been through, she is taking it rather well. Give her some credit." John Flynn voiced in, giving me a small smile of assurance.
"John, you are not here to pacify me. You are here for Ana." Christian retorted, clearly not liking Flynn's stand.
"I am here for both of you, Christian. You are my friend first, and patient second. What is done cannot be undone. And I am here to help you move forward." John voiced confidently. I still don't know how he came to be involved in all this. Did Christian really include him for my benefit, did he call him over?
"Are you sure you want to be a part of this, John? You do realize what is going to transpire next." Christian raised his eyebrow, seemingly doubting Flynn's presence as well as mine.
John placed his hand on my shoulder, smirking confidently. "Like I said, friend first. Patient second. What ever I can contribute to the full extent of my power I will give without hesitation." He looked to me and winked. I don't care why he is here, but right now I am grateful because his is on my side in me being not shunned, and on Christian's side as a friend and supporter.
After a little pause, of what i assume Christian and John exchanging a rather silent debate with their eyes, Christian spoke."Very well." He was resigned.
Giving my hand a final squeeze before examining my face one last time, I assume to find that little chink in my resolve to banish me to the bedroom, or any other place other than here. A little irritate at my stubbornness, that I wont simply give in.
You did not marry a submissive, my husband! My subconscious added sarcastically. He finally acknowledged the other heads in the room, keeping his hand laced with mine.
"So lets proceed." He declared. Half controlling to the other people, half surrendering to my role in this little spin. Fifty-fifty, the irony wasn't lost on me.
"Jack Hyde seemed to have worked alone on this. So he is the only loose end that needs to be tied?" Christian looked from one face to another.
"Yes, sir." Barney spoke. We all turned our attention on him and the laptop situated in front of him. As he went on to explain the process of Jack Hyde's invasion into our home. And how he came to be the dead corpse that was growing colder and none too missed by the second.
I should have been scared and terrified of how he was able to accomplish all this, and how far and beyond he went. But as I sat there, the only problem I faced was trying to control the gleeful grin that was threatening to erupt at the fact that this fucking bastard was out of our lives and out of this world for good.
I, Anastasia Grey, solely made sure of it with my own hands.
I hope you enjoyed the Prologue. I had this idea brewing in my head for a while when I started updating again. If you wish to see it progressing, let me know.