Today is the day of the ball and Christian has arranged a hairdresser, nail artist and a makeup artist to come to the house throughout the day to get me ready. I asked if he didn't think it was all a bit much, but he assured me that his parents' balls are one of the most prestigious in the city.

"It's an annual affair," he says as we lay together in the bath. "Everyone goes all out trust me."

We start the day by having a lazy morning together. After a lie in and breakfast, we're taking a bath together in order to relax before the chaos of tonight takes place. Since Christian's family will all be in attendance at the ball, Gail will be babysitting Violetta which she is looking forward to. Their bond is super sweet.

"What if your family hates me?" I ask, leaning down to shave my leg.

He takes the razor from me and finishes off my leg. I'm not sure why but there's something sexy about having him do that for me.

"Why would they hate you?"

I shrug, leaning back against his chest. He carries on shaving my legs until they're silky smooth.

"They won't hate you," he says. "They're nice, I promise. Well, most of the time."

I laugh at that and he leans forward, skimming my neck with his nose. I inhale sharply.

"Is there anywhere else you need shaving?" He whispers.

My face flushes hot at the implication. Christian and his dirty mind never fail to amaze me.

"You're something else," I murmur, shaking my head.

He just chuckles and leans back.

"Maybe next time," he grins.

"I wouldn't bank on it," I scold.

After our bath, we put on the new white hotel robes Christian has just ordered and I practically melt into it.

"Egyptian cotton, one thousand thread count," he tells me matter of factly.

When the hairdresser and nail artist arrive at noon, I'm still chilling out in my robe sipping a glass of champagne Christian has poured for me. I imagine that a wedding would feel much like this. I picture myself as I lounge around in an expensive robe with my drink and fancy hairstyle, waiting to marry Christian. I look over at him, deep in conversation with Violetta and wonder if the thought ever crosses his mind. I know that Christian cares for me deeply. I'm even quite sure that he loves me but there's things I'm still uncertain of. With men, they never really want to commit. Not properly at least. They get bored easily and marriage is a huge step. Will he get bored of me soon? What if some fancy prim internship girl comes into his office and tries it on? Like Meghan...

My thoughts take the familiar path of past memories and my insecurities start to rear their ugly head. Thankfully, the hairdresser and nail artist distract me as we head into the lounge and they setup their tools.

Two hours later and my hair is the prettiest it's ever looked. It's properly curled, all of it, which took a while to do since it's now waist length. I have half up in a delicate bun pinned with little crystals and the rest is sweeping down my back. My nails are buffed and polished to perfection and we've gone with a classic acrylic ombré French manicure because it will go with everything. When Christian comes to check out their work, I can tell he's impressed. He fingers one of my curls delicately and sighs in approval.

"Lovely," he murmurs, sliding it back into place.

When they leave, I run my new nails down his arm, and he shivers. I plan on using them to my full advantage later on.

Gail makes me a quick omelette for lunch and a while after that, my makeup artist arrives. He's a very flamboyant gay man named Aled from Britain who over enunciates each word and makes oohing and aching sounds constantly.

"Such flawless skin," he coos, pinching both my cheeks like a baby. "This will be a breeze."

He sets to work on my face, and it isn't really a breeze at all. There is so many steps that I don't even consider when doing my own makeup. All in all, it takes about an hour until he declares me 'perfection.'

When I look in the mirror, I have to admit I look beautiful. My eyelids are a sparkly rose gold with long fluttery lashes. My lips are full and glossy and my cheeks rosy. I look like a doll.

Violetta is in awe.

"Oh, I want to look like this," she breathes, running her fingers through my hair and playing with the sparkly clips.

I pull her into my lap and kiss her cheeks, making them all glossy. She giggles. I inhale her baby scent. Strawberries and soap.

"How about I give you a makeover this weekend?" I ask her. "See if I can make you look like this. No promises though."

She nods enthusiastically and I brush her curls back from her face. She's so gorgeous sometimes she doesn't seem real. Christian's genes are strong, and I can't help but wonder what our child would look like if we ever had one...

I shake my head as I let Violetta down. I don't know what's wrong with me lately; my stupid irrational chain of thoughts. I've never felt more like a young girl in my life. Marriage and babies; such a cliché. Before Christian, I never even used to think about things like that. It seemed like the wants and desires of other people, never me.

Christian comes in a few moments later and I watch as his pupils dilate visibly.

"You look stunning," he murmurs, coming over to me and brushing a finger across my cheek.

"Careful. You'll ruin my face."

He chuckles.

"Does that mean I can't kiss you?" He asks.

I shake my head. "No kissing these lips. They're covered in Fenty gloss."

I watch as his eyes focus on my lips and it's hot. I like teasing him, making him crazy with desire. The end result is always worth it, and I can't imagine how good it will be once the night is over and we've finally crawled home into bed.

A little while later, Christian helps me into my dress but not before he lingers on my underwear underneath. I'm in a black little ensemble complete with stockings and a garter belt. He stands behind me, hands stroking across me sensually. His nose skims my neck and then further down. Across my shoulder blades and down my back. When he kisses my butt and gets down into his knees, I feel my own go weak.

"Stop being naughty," I murmur, not meaning what I'm saying at all.

"You're so sexy," he says back. "I want to make you come before we go."

"We can't," I say, closing my eyes and savouring his touch. "I'll ruin my pretty underwear."

I'm waiting for him to rip them off and tell me he doesn't care but he presses some more gentle kisses before rising back up.

"If you insist," he says, pressing a last lingering kiss against my neck before pulling away.

I turn abruptly, whining at the loss of contact. He's wearing his signature smirk and I look up at him pleading.

"What?" He asks.

"I didn't think you'd stop," I whisper, trailing my fingers down his chest.

"No. I think you're right. We wouldn't want to ruin that pretty underwear," he says, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear.

"We can take it off."

He chuckles and just kisses my nose.

"Come on," he gestures out his arm for the dress. "Let's get this on."

The dress is beautiful of course but I already knew that. I'm wearing a pair of black Louboutin's to match and as we sit in the backseat of Taylor's SUV, I feel my stomach clench repeatedly.

"Relax, it's okay," Christian says, taking my hand in his. "You'll have fun. Trust me."

I squeeze onto his hand, hoping more than anything that he was right.

When Taylor pulls up to the Grey's mansion, I'm awestruck at the sheer opulence. The house and grounds itself are amazing but the decor they've put on for the ball is something else entirely. Each tree is adorned with twinkling fairy lights making the land look like something from a movie. There are endless rows of flowers and rose bushes filled with tiny lanterns.

"Wow," is all I say as Taylor parks and opens the door for us.

Christian grasps my hand in his and together we walk up the front steps where the doors are flanked by two big security guys.

"Mr Grey," one acknowledges with a curt nod.

The doors open up at once and soft music flows out. The entrance is grand with marble flooring and a winding staircase. At the front, there is a woman seated at a desk and she smiles at us both as we make our way inside. The house is even bigger inside. There are people everywhere, laughing and chattering to one another. Most have a glass of champagne in their hand. A waiter stops by to offer us some and Christian grabs a flute for us both.

We walk into the entrance room where the main event is happening. Grace is the first to spot us and she looks lovely in a vivid blue dress with pearls. Her lips are a soft pink and she gives us both a big hug.

"Oh Anastasia you look beautiful," she gushes. "Come now I must introduce you to the rest of the family."

I squeeze Christian's hand extra tight and practically down my champagne like a shot as we let Grace lead us to a small ensemble of people gathered by a desk of food.

"Anastasia dear, this is my husband - Christian's father Carrick."

She parades me in front of a tall fair-haired man in a suit cut to perfection. He has vivid blue eyes and gives me a polite smile.

"Carrick," Grace continued. "This is Christian's new girlfriend. Anastasia."

"Pleasure to meet you," he smiles kindly, offering his hand.

His handshake is steady.

Next there is Elliot who I've obviously already met and then finally Christian's younger sister, Mia. She is beautiful in a little red dress and vivid red lips. Her face holds an old time elegance and her eyes are wide and kind. To my surprise, she hugs me instead of a handshake.

"It's good to meet you! I'm so happy my brother has finally found a woman. It's been so long," she gushes.

"Mia love," Carrick chides her, but I just laugh.

Christian shoots her a glare.

Mia offers me a canapé and we make small talk for a while. She tells me she's studying fashion. I tell her about my own studies.

"I heard you were a ballerina," she grins. "Violetta talks about you all the time. I'll have to watch you dance one day."

"She's a vision," Christian chimes in.

I blush at the praise.

After a few more flutes of champagne and Mia's pleasant chatter, I'm starting to feel much more comfortable. Christian's family are nice and that's all I can really ask for. Christian gets dragged away by some important people after a while, but Mia keeps me company. She introduces me to Christian's two best friends from high school. I learn their names are Cal and James. They're pretty much idiots but they're friendly. I like them.

I'm on maybe my third glass of champagne now and I'm actually enjoying myself.

"So, what was Christian like when he was a kid?" I ask, genuinely intrigued.

Apart from him getting into trouble a couple times, I don't really know anything beyond that.

"Oh, he was wild," Mia says, sipping her own flute. I think she's had about five. "He was full on. Like, I genuinely felt sorry for what mom and dad had to put up with."

"Was he really that bad?" I say.

I'm having a hard time picturing it.

"Oh yeah," James says. He's got a beer in one hand and a champagne flute in another. "He was always fighting at school. Got expelled from like two different ones. We always stayed friends though. We're tight."

I smile at that. I want him to have good friends like I do.

"He used to fight pretty bad," Cal says, joining in. "Really roughed a couple guys up one time. Broke a guy's jaw. One of the kid's parents pressed charges. He was looking at jail time."

Mia goes a bit quiet then, wondering if Cal's gone too far. I'm shocked. The image of Christian doing that to somebody isn't something I can conjure up.

"It was alright though," James interceded. "Everything worked out in the end. He got better, sorted himself out. Just a bad teenage phase."

I grimace, knowing exactly how he sorted himself out. A shiver runs through me and I try to put it out of my mind.

Damp pedo.

A girl interrupts us by bounding over to Mia and engulfing her tightly. She's small and blonde. Thin. Pretty.

"My Mimi," she gushes, her voice an obvious octave higher. "I've missed you. You look like an angel."

"Hi Cassie," Mia grins, hugging her tight. "I've missed you so much. How was London?"

They trail off into their own conversation and Cal informs me that Cassie is Mia's best friend from childhood. He also kindly informs me that her and Christian had a thing back in the day. James shoots a glare at his friend and I feel my insides bristle as I glance over at her. She's gorgeous, there's no denying that. He never mentioned her when I asked about ex-girlfriends. He only told me he'd ever had subs, but I can't see a normal girl like Cassie being into whips.

I feel him by my side a moment later, a hand on my shoulder. He looks over at his friends with guarded eyes.

"I hope they haven't told you anything too bad about me," he says with a smirk.

I ignore him and stalk off to find another drink. He follows me of course.

"Come on," he says, his smirk still in place. "What did they say about me?"

I shrug and he laughs.

"You're all huffy and annoyed. What did they say?"

"Okay," I say quietly, taking a sip of my drink. "Well, they told me that you used to have a thing with Mia's best friend. Cassie."

He rolls his eyes, sipping his drink. "That was eons ago. I was a teenager."

"So?"

He sighs and moves closer to me. "Let's not ruin a good night with old news. This is the now and right now, I'm with you."

I can smell the champagne on him, and I know he's drunk. They'll be no getting anything out of him tonight, so I drop it. For now.

I excuse myself to pee and after I'm finished, I wash my hands as I stare at myself in the mirror. My makeup is still fresh, but my gloss is faded. I look a little flushed and know I need to pace myself with the alcohol.

A woman comes in to fix her makeup. She stands at the sink next to me and I can smell the cloying perfume. I glance over at her. She seems to be in her early fifties and she's blonde with immaculate hair and expensive jewellery. One of Grace's rich friends I assume.

She catches me staring and I look away quickly. It's too late though; she's looking me over.

"You must be Anastasia," she says.

Her voice is soft and sultry. Kind of like the voices you hear on a porn video.

"Uh, yes, do I know you?" I ask, confused as to how she knows me.

She laughs, but it's a mocking one. Like she's in on some little secret I'm not. "I'm not sure. Perhaps," she says vaguely and then extends her hand and introduces herself.

"My name is Elena Lincoln. It's nice to finally meet you."