ANA

"Why am I punishing you, Anastasia?" His voice is menacing and full of venom. His breathing is labored as he stands behind me with a leather belt in his hand.

"Because I came without permission, sir."

"And is that acceptable?"

"No, sir."

"You will get twenty lashes, Anastasia. I want you to count, but if you make any noise, you will get to more lashes. Understood?"

"Understood, sir."

The first lash comes as a surprise. The leather feels raw on my delicate skin, and it stings.

"One," I mewl.

"Two." The second sting hits the same spot as the first, intensifying the pain.

"Three… Four… Five…" Each lash gets harder and harder to bear. My need to scream in pain grows with every hit.

"Six… Seven… Eight… Nine… Ten…" He's broken skin. Tears pool in my eyes as I try my best not to start sobbing.

I deserve this. I deserve the pain. I disobeyed him, and I must be punished.

"Eleven… Twelve… Thirteen… Fourteen… Fifteen…" The lashes are getting harder. But I don't stop him. I don't safeword. I feel a pool of wetness between my thighs and immediately feel ashamed at my arousal.

"You're such a fucking whore, getting wet from your punishment."

"Sixteen… Seventeen… Eighteen… Nineteen… Twenty." He drops the belt on the floor, and I burst into tears.

"Thank you, sir," I mumble despite the tears.

I lay crying on the whipping bench. He throws a tube of arnica cream near me on the floor.

"Put this on your ass, then go home. I'm done with you."

He puts the belt back on it's designated hook and leaves, slamming the heavy door to his dungeon shut.

He fucks me, punishes me, then leaves me. He says someone like me doesn't deserve his affection. And I believe him. I'm so worthless even my parents didn't want me.

I wake up in a pool of sweat. My throat is dry and hoarse. I've been screaming.

I've been having this dream for months now. It's a memory of my past… my past that's still my present.

He's still in my life, my first dom. Our sexual relationship is over. It's been over for six years now. But he provides me with guidance and advice in my business ventures. He also helps me find other doms, doms who will satisfy my need for pain.

But lately, I've been feeling empty. I run a multi-billion dollar company. I have more money than sense. But I want… need more. Something more…

"How are you, Ana?" John Flynn asks as he takes a seat on the black leather couch across from me.

Leather… Belts… Pain…

"Anastasia?" he prompts.

"Sorry, I got lost for a minute. I'm fine."

"How did the deal with Nordstrom go?"

"Good. The main label is slowly expanding runway pieces into department stores, not just trunkshows and boutiques. You'll be able to buy my haute couture at Nordstrom starting April 1," I state proudly.

I'm the owner and CEO of the world's largest fashion conglomerate. It started with my namesake brand, Anastasia Rose. I've slowly expanded the business, so now we have twenty-five different brands under our umbrella, both affordable and luxury. At twenty-one years old, I became the youngest self-made billionaire. And now, at twenty-four, I'm the fourteenth richest person in the world, and the richest woman ever.

"That's quite an achievement."

"Thank you."

"So what is it that you'd like to discuss today?"

"I've been having this dream for the past few weeks."

"About?"

"Jack." My first dom, the one who introduced me to this lifestyle.

"A good dream?"

"That's what I can't figure out."

He tilts his head in confusion and I continue, "I wake up sweating, and I know I've been screaming."

"So a nightmare then."

"No," I shake my head, "In the dream, he's doing things that I love. Things that I crave."

"What's happening in this dream?"

"He's punishing me with a leather belt. Twenty lashes. And I love it. I get off on the pain."

"If that's the case, why are you making up screaming?"

"I don't know John," I say exasperated, rubbing my temples, "Isn't that what I pay you for?"

He sighs, "What's the last thing you remember from your dream before you wake up?"

"He throws a tube of arnica cream at me and tells me to use it to soothe the pain…" I pause.

"And then?"

"And then he leaves me there. Alone on the whipping bench, aroused and silently sobbing."

"Aren't good Doms supposed to administer aftercare?"

"He was a good Dom!" I defend him. "It was part of the punishment. I came without permission. I knew the consequences. He was giving me what I deserved."

"So you deserved to be left like that?"

"Yes… No… Yes… I don't fucking know John!" I cry.

"How did it make you feel when he left you?"

"Alone… Hurt… Dirty… Used…"

"Do you think you deserved to feel those things?"

"Of course I did. I broke the rules."

"Ana, I may not be part of the BDSM scene, but Doms are supposed to care for their subs."

"He did care for me! He still cares for me."

"Physically and sexually maybe. But emotionally?"

"John, he made me who I am today. He taught me how to believe in myself."

"By beating you into submission?"

"I needed it at the time. I was so shy. I had no self-esteem. When I submitted to him, I felt like I could do anything in the world."

"Ana, I want to give you something to think about. Your so-called dream. Yes, you enjoyed the pain. But what about after. When he left you there like you were nothing to him. Maybe you were upset because you wanted more."

More… There's that word again.

"More emotional connection. Someone to hold you in his arms and soothe you."

I shudder even thinking about letting someone in that close, something deeper than a physical connection. Because once they get to know me, they'll leave. Like my parents did.

"Maybe even someone to love you."

Love? He's crazy. Definitely not. I don't deserve love. I'm not worthy. How could anyone love me? My parents didn't even love me. I don't love me.

I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off, "Think about it, Anastasia. Please."

"Back to the office, Miss Steele?" Sawyer asks as he opens the car door for me.

He's my CPO, kind of like a shadow. He goes wherever I go.

"Please," I reply and get into the back seat of the Mercedes GLS. I have my own fleet of these.

Sawyer gets in the driver's seat and pulls into traffic.

The car ride is silent, giving me a chance to think of John's words.

Someone to hold me… Someone to love me…

No. That will never happen. I need to be beaten. To be treated like a whore. I need a Dom, not a boyfriend, and definitely not love.

I haven't had a Dom in three months. I've been preoccupied with work, but I need to give Jack a call to set me up with a new Dom. That must be why I'm waking up screaming from that dream. I miss the burn of the belt. The harshness of the cane. The pleasure of submitting.

"Hello, Anastasia," he answers his phone.

"Hi, Jack."

"You missed our weekly lunch. I wanted to discuss a business opportunity."

"I'm sorry, I was swamped this week."

"Ah, the Nordstrom deal. How did that go?"

"Good, but that's not why I called. I need a new Dom. Soon."

"I was waiting for this call. I'll find someone by next week."

"Thank you."

"Let's have dinner. I've missed you. Friday perhaps?"

"I have to attend a charity gala."

"Which one?"

"Coping Together."

"Isn't that one of the Grey's charities? Christian Grey's parents?"

"Yes." Everyone knows about Seattle's billionaire bachelor and the richest man in the world, worth a whopping $150 billion.

"Would you like a plus one?" Since when does Jack want to go on a date?

"You know I don't attend events with anyone. And this isn't social, it's business. Carrick Grey provided me with legal advice. I owe him, and coming to his gala will drum up more donations. It's a worthy cause."

"Perhaps another time. Bye, darling."

"Bye, Jack."

Weird. I can't remember a time when Jack has been so nosy about my social calendar. Whatever. He's probably just bored. At least I'll have a new Dom soon. It's exactly what I need. I hope it will get me out of the funk I've been in.

CHRISTIAN

"Elena, why are you here? This is a family dinner."

"Aren't I family, darling?"

She's been getting on my fucking nerves lately. She keeps insisting that I need a new sub, but I don't have the time for it right now. I'm in the middle of the biggest deal of my life with a Taiwanese company, and they're being difficult. A needy sub is not on the menu at the moment.

To add to that, she's been bossing me around… Subtly giving me her opinion when I don't want it. Doesn't she get that I'm not her sub anymore? Christ! And she always wants to speak with me for my opinion on her stupid salons! Salons that mean nothing to be. They're barely a drop in my portfolio.

"No, you're not. Incest is even too sick for people like us. You're nothing more than a business partner."

"Business partner?" She gets closer to me, backing me into a corner, her inner Domme coming out.

"Yes, Elena."

She puts her hand on my forearm, and I immediately pull away. "You're much too tense, Christian. Please, I have the perfect girl for you. Very few hard limits and a high pain tolerance."

"I already told you no. And we are not talking about this in my family's home. Are you crazy?"

"I'm concerned about you."

"You shouldn't be. I'm perfectly fine," I spew, raising my voice.

"Look at you. Your anger is getting out of hand. I taught you control, and it's slipping."

"You didn't teach me how to control myself, Elena. You taught me how to fuck…"

I hear a gasp from the doorway. It's my mother. I've never seen Grace Grey look madder. She walks over to Elena and slaps her across the face.

"Get out of my house right now."

"Grace, dear," Elena tries to explain.

I'm standing frozen in place, speechless. This can't be happening. I've done everything in my power to keep my sexual predilections from my family, and it's like my world is crashing down on me.

"Get the hell out of my house right now, Elena," she screams.

Elena scurries away, looking embarrassed and ashamed. I don't even want to look at my mother right now.

"Christian?" my mother's voice calms.

I keep my eyes downcast and try to walk away. "I'll go now." She'll probably want nothing to do with me anymore.

"Christian," she says more forcefully.

I look up and see the pain written all over her face.

"When did it start?"

I grit my teeth and lie, "I was eighteen."

"Try again."

"Fifteen."

I hear her sob, and tears are streaming down her face.

"I sent you to work at her house that summer. I did this to you."

"No you didn't, mom. It was my fault."

"Your fault? That woman raped you. My innocent baby boy."

"She didn't rape me. I didn't say no."

"Christ! You were fifteen, a child. You weren't old enough to give consent. And she… she betrayed my trust. She knew about your issues."

"I'm sorry, mom. You must hate me."

"Hate you? Why would you say that?" She wipes away her tears with her sleeves.

"Because I disappointed you. You probably think I'm sick."

"This is not your fault. I should've known. Abused children end up in abusive relationships." There's a pause before she continues, "That's when you stopped drinking. Your grades got better. Your father and I didn't know what clicked in you, we were just so happy that you were getting your life together. What did she do to you?" She chokes down a sob.

Fuck, I really don't want to get onto the topic of BDSM with my mother. I'll try to keep it mild.

"She would punish me if I got out of control or got bad grades. She's the reason I got into Harvard." I hate to say it, but it's true.

"Don't you dare say that. I'm going to fucking kill that woman."

"Mom…"

She wraps her arms around me and cries silently into my shoulder.

"I love the house, Christian. A welcome change from your cold and detached apartment." The apartment Elena told me to buy. The apartment that I filled with pretty things of value but no meaning.

It's such a stark contrast to this mansion on the Sound. It's warm, comforting, and it feels like home. It's meant for a family. It was an impulse buy really, but I'm glad I bought it. Maybe in the future, my family will live here with me. A wife... Maybe even a couple of kids. I shake the thought from my mind. Me and a family? With kids? Never going to happen.

"Thanks, mom. Why don't we do Sunday family dinner here?"

Family dinner. That's a new word coming from my mouth. Before, I was disconnected from my family. I barely attended family functions, too afraid to show my face, the real me. It took months and months of therapy, alone and with my family, to get me to finally realize that what Elena did to me was wrong. She raped me. She abused me.

I've given up heavy BDSM. I realized that it was her means of still controlling me. It was her way of making sure I was still under her watchful thumb. Picking girls for me and getting me to invest in her salons.

I've wiped my hands clean of her, broken all ties. The salons were gifted and restraining orders were granted. It also seemed she was embezzling money from me, small amounts every month so that no one would notice.

When Carrick said she could be indicted, she threatened to expose me. The BDSM. So in exchange for her silence, she wouldn't be put behind bars. I barely think about her anymore. She's a part of my past that I hope to completely forget one day.

Escala has been completely refurbished. The playroom – dismantled. I know in my heart that I could never give up BDSM. It's become a part of me, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the kinkier aspects of the lifestyle. But as far as contracted submissives, I'm done with it.

"That sounds like a great idea," she replies, "We'll all be here. Oh, and don't forget. The charity gala on Friday. You're coming, right?"

"Of course, I am."

ANA

"I want the report done by today, or you're fucking fired!" I scream, then hang up the phone.

Fucking idiots, messing up a simple business report a college student could do!

"Miss Steele," Jose's voice rings through the intercom, "You told me to remind you about the charity event tonight. You'll need to leave now to have enough time to get ready."

I'm so stressed out right now. I rub my temples to soothe the headache.

"Thank you, Jose. I'll be out in a few minutes. I just need to gather my things."

"I'll inform Sawyer, ma'am."

"Oh, and please schedule a casual lunch with Mr. Hyde this weekend."

"Of course, Ms. Steele." There's a hint of annoyance in his voice.

A silver satin gown and ostentatious diamond jewelry – my outfit for tonight.

Sawyer leads me through the gaggles of reporters to the red carpet, where I'm obliged to take photos.

Once I'm inside the event, Sawyer leaves me alone, disappearing somewhere in the crowd.

I'm immediately approached by both men and women who think they can offer business ideas to me. I brush them off. I don't mix business and pleasure.

"Anastasia," a voice I recognize calls my name.

"Mr. Grey. It's so lovely to see you again. Thank you for inviting me by the way."

"Carrick, please," he says shaking my hand. "Let me introduce you to my wife."

"Grace, dear," he calls to a beautifully put together woman.

"This is my lovely wife, Grace. Gracie, this is Anastasia Steele."

Instead of a handshake, she pulls me into a warm hug.

"Oh, you're even more beautiful in person."

"Thank you, Mrs. Grey. This is such a special event you're putting on."

"It's an issue very close to our hearts. It's terrible what can happen to children when their parents become addicted." She gives a knowing look to her husband, and instinctively, I can tell that this issue is personal. Maybe even too close to home.

"I love your dress," I compliment her, making the topic of conversation more light-hearted.

"It's one of your designs."

I didn't even notice. The business has gotten so big, I haven't designed anything in a long time. I have designers and creative directors for that now. I'm solely in charge of the business side of things now.

"Well, it looks stunning on you."

Carrick excuses himself to talk to more guests, while a young girl comes to join us.

"Anastasia, this is my daughter, Mia. I hope you don't mind, but she's been dying to meet you. She wants to get into the fashion industry."

Mia is absolutely adorable, and I can already tell that she has an amazing fashion sense.

"Please, call me Ana."

CHRISTIAN

"You made it!" my mother gasps.

"I told you I would come. Don't act so surprised."

"Well, I'm so used to you taking last-minute rainchecks. Forgive me for being excited."

"I'm sorry, mother."

"Enough of that. Do you know Anastasia Steele? Your father invited her."

"I know of her." I've never met her, but of course, I've heard of her. She stole the title of Seattle's youngest billionaire away from me. She's the richest woman in the world and is at the very top of the fashion industry.

"Maybe you should go introduce yourself. She's talking to Mia right now."

My mom points to the corner of the ballroom, where I see the two girls conversing.

"She's very pretty," my mom comments.

"Are you trying to set me up?" I break a smile.

"I would never," she acts surprised, feigning innocence, "Just go talk to her."

From my view across the room, I can tell she's gorgeous. She's a natural beauty, wearing little to no makeup in a room full of women who are obsessed with plastic surgery and caking on makeup.

She fits the looks of my perfect submissive to a tee – alabaster skin, slender figure, dark brown hair, and powder blue eyes. But she's certainly no submissive.

I confidently walk across the room to greet her. "Miss Steele," I say cooly, interrupting my baby sister.

"Mr. Grey," she stands up to greet me.

That voice brings me back. It can't be her, can it?

There's a feeling in my gut that I can't shake. I would recognize the tenor of her voice anywhere. It's her.