Chapter 60 - The Manipulator

“But I thought you said Leila was making good progress.”

 I’d asked Flynn to keep me advised of any developments regarding Leila, and so he was ringing to warn me that she had missed her last couple of art classes. No one had been able to make contact with her, not even her parents.

“Look, to be honest Christian, I’ve had my suspicions for a while that Leila was pulling the wool over the eyes of her therapist in the Hamden clinic she’s attending, because of the impressive, but to my mind unrealistically rapid progress, she seemed to be making. I warned them she was capable of very devious and manipulative behavior to get what she wanted. She even tried her level best to manipulate me, but as I’ve had extensive experience in handling cases such as hers, I knew how to respond appropriately. So I’m well aware that Leila is smart enough to realize that the sooner she appeared to be responding to treatment, the sooner they would ease back on monitoring her.  I’ve been concerned that Leila’s been telling them what they want to hear, and they were taking that at face value, rather than delving more deeply.”

“It seems she’s up to her old trick of topping from the bottom again,” I murmur.

 “Her therapist is patting himself on the back and insisting her improvement is all down to the success of his program, but I'm afraid I'm rather skeptical, taking into account how deep seated I believe her issues to be. Obviously, it’s difficult for me to be certain when I’m not consulting in person, but I supported her transfer to the East Coast as I agreed that it would be very good for her to have back up from her family.”

“Yeah, it seemed the right thing to do when she had no one here -  even her estranged husband wanted nothing to do with her, did he? But from what you’re saying, John, you seem to think she’s not really making the progress she’d have us all believe?”

“That’s right, Christian. What worries me is that until very recently, Leila has repeatedly been asking to meet with you, and despite the fact that all these requests have been denied, she has simply refused to accept that she has to get over her obsession with you in order to move  forward.”

“You think she might be planning on trying to see me? Is that what you think she’s up to, why she’s disappeared off the radar?”

“It’s a possibility that I thought you should be made aware of.”

“Do you think she could be a threat to Ana?  Or to herself?”

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t believe she ever had any serious suicidal intentions. My personal evaluation was that all her previous apparently threatening behavior could be put down to attention seeking. A cry for help, if you will. If she'd seriously wanted to harm Ana, she had numerous opportunities to do so, yet she chose not to. She simply used Ana to get your attention – and it worked. She must not be allowed to succeed again – it will only perpetuate such behavior.”

Thinking about the extreme stalker behavior Leila exhibited, I know he’s right. She broke into the apartment and concealed herself in order to spy on us, using knowledge she'd gleaned over three years ago when she was my sub. 

That’s a long time to hold onto those kinds of thoughts and plans. And not only did she manage to gain access to my apartment by obtaining copies of the keys to the fire escape, she somehow gained access to my safe, to remove and then plant the porn pictures somewhere she knew they’d be found and cause trouble.

And I can't forget that she also sabotaged Ana’s car, and even stole the keys to her apartment from her purse, probably while she was sleeping, then replaced them after she’d had a set cut so we wouldn’t realize they had ever gone missing. No doubt about it, that was really devious behavior. 

Flynn is right. Realistically, however much I want to believe that Leila is cured now, I know that level of obsessive behavior can't be cured virtually overnight. So the fact that no one knows where she is right now is not good news.

“Thanks for letting me know, John. I appreciate it. Let’s just hope there’s nothing sinister about Leila missing her art class, but I’ll let you know if anything develops, if she attempts to make contact with me at all.”

I call Taylor into my office, and fill him in with what I’ve just learned from Flynn. He doesn't appear in the least surprised.

“I had a funny feeling we’d not heard the last of the Williams woman,” he sighs. “She’s already on the proscribed list of visitors for Mrs. Grey, as well as the rest of your family, but I’ll make sure all members of the security team are apprised of this development, to ensure they're on full alert to the possibility of Miss Williams, or any of the other contacts you supplied details of, showing up.”

Ever since pictures of our wedding were spread all over the newspapers, in case that prompted any of my other previous subs to try and make contact with my wife, I’ve taken the precaution of adding all fifteen of their names to Ana’s proscribed visitors list. I don’t want to risk the possibility of any of them making contact with my wife, reminding her of my previous lifestyle.

So I can't fucking well believe my eyes when this email from Ana pops into my inbox while I’m at work:

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: Visitors

Date: September 6 2011 15:27

To: Christian Grey

Christian

Leila is here to see me. I will see her with Prescott.

I’ll use my newly acquired slapping skills with my now-healed hand, should I need to.

Try, and I mean try, not to worry.

I am a big girl.

Will call once we’ve spoken.

A x

Anastasia Grey

Editor, SIP

As I finish reading it, Taylor makes his way into my office, and like me, I can tell he is only just containing his fury.

“Sir, I have to advise you that I just got a message from Prescott and it seems that….” His voice trails off when he sees my face and realizes I'm already aware that a member of his team has fucked up big time.

“How the fuck has Miss Williams gained access to my wife, when I gave very clear and explicit instructions that she was not to be allowed anywhere near her? This should not have been possible. Mrs. Grey should not even be aware that Miss Williams had made any kind of an approach. What part of my instructions were not made clear enough to Prescott? Was she not aware of the heightened state of alert concerning this woman, the very same one that held my wife at gun point last time she saw her?”

“Of course she was, Mr. Grey, I personally briefed her on the matter. Unfortunately, it would seem that in her usual scheming manner, Miss Williams was aware of the security measures that had been put in place, so she waited until Prescott was on a rest room break before she entered the building and asked to see Mrs. Grey.”

“So Prescott was taking a piss? She was literally caught on the job with her pants down?”

“So it would seem, sir.” Taylor’s face has turned an unfetching shade of puce as he listens to my tirade, because he’s been made to look stupid and unprofessional by Prescott’s actions, one of his own handpicked team.

“But even if she was caught short, hadn't you or Welch or Prescott thought to brief the reception staff that any visitors requesting access to my wife had to wait to be cleared for access? That they must not, under any circumstances, allow anyone access to my wife without the express permission of her security officer? What is the fucking point of having a CPO in the building, if every time she feels the need to take a dump, the whole of fucking Seattle can casually wander in to see my wife if they feel like it?”

I am seething with anger at this lapse of security. Despite Flynn’s assurance, we cannot be sure that Leila hasn’t somehow procured another gun. Ana is now at risk, and even if the risk is minimal, this visit will stir up all the shit about my previous lifestyle, when I’d been working so hard to put it all behind us.  

And why did Ana agree to see Leila when she must know it is against my instructions? I thought she’d agreed not to be so fucking difficult and defiant, but it seems she just can't help herself.  

“Of course the reception staff have been fully briefed on the correct protocol, but it seems that on this occasion, it wasn’t followed correctly by the member of staff in question.”

I grab my cell to call Ana, to forbid her seeing Leila.

She doesn't pick up.

How fucking dare she ignore my call. I'm now even more furious, if that is possible.

Next I call her office and Hannah, her PA answers.

“Put me through to my wife. Now.”

“Oh… Mr. Grey… I… err… think she’s in a meeting…” Hannah stutters.

“I am very well aware that my wife is in a meeting, but I told you to put me through to her, so that’s what I expect you to do. Immediately. This minute. Do you understand?” I bark. 
I’ve been very restrained. I haven’t sworn at her.

“Yes, Mr. Grey. Of course. I’ll just go and interrupt her meeting, if you would just wait one moment…”

I sit and wait like a prize dick, fuming at how helpless I feel to control what is going down.

“Err.. Mr. Grey… I… umm… that is Mrs. Grey can't come to the phone right now. She sends her apologies and says that she will call you back very shortly.”

“She fucking well said what?”

“She said… she’ll… phone you back…. shortly…” Hannah just about manages to whisper back.

I hang up. It seems I'm completely surrounded by ineffectual morons.

Next I call Prescott’s phone, assuming from Ana’s email that she is in this meeting with my wife and Leila. At least she answers.

“Put my wife on the fucking phone. Now. This is not a request.”

“Yes, sir.” Prescott says, as her voice falters. She knows she’s history.

Finally I get to speak to Ana.

“Christian,” she says, her voice laced with exasperation, and I can tell she’s rolling her eyes.

“What the fuck are you playing at?”

“Don’t shout at me.”

“What do you mean don’t shout at you. I gave specific instructions which you have disregarded – again. Hell, Ana, I am fucking furious.”

“When you are calmer, we will talk about this,” she coolly insists.

“Don’t you hang up on me.”

“Goodbye Christian.”

The line goes dead. I try calling back, but the phone has been switched off.

Taylor has been quietly listening to my attempts to speak to my wife.

“I’ll bring the car round shall I sir?” He has correctly surmised that my next move will be to head directly to SIP’s offices.

“Yes, if you think you can possibly manage to do that successfully without fucking up,” I snarl.

~~~

As I walk through reception on my way to Ana’s office, I am taken aback to see Susannah, the last sub I had before I met Ana. I ignore her as she smiles and gives me a little wave from where she's sat. 

What the fuck is this, some sort of Christian Grey ex-sub convention? I have no idea why she is here, but there is no way in hell Prescott had any business letting either of them gain access to the building.

I walk into the meeting room where Hannah has indicated my wife is ensconced with her visitor and her fucking useless CPO.

“You. You’re fired. Get out now.” 

Prescott makes no argument. She knows the score.

“Christian,” Ana starts to protest, but I don’t want to hear it. Prescott is my employee, and she has failed monumentally in her duties, so she’s gone. End of story.

“Don’t.” I’m not taking any of Ana’s crap over this. Ana didn’t even like her, so I don’t know why she seems upset about it.

Prescott quietly leaves the room to join Taylor who is waiting just outside. He can deal with her. I have other matters to sort. I’ve had enough of Leila’s little games, when I have bent over backwards to get her the help she needs. I stand directly opposite her, noticing that she looks a lot healthier than she did the last time I saw her. I guess that’s something positive.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Ana gasps at the brutal tone of my voice, but I ignore her to concentrate on Leila. She understands the D/s rules. She gets it. She knows she has displeased me.

“Well?”

“I wanted to see you, and you wouldn’t let me,” Leila whispers, as she peeks up at me through her lashes. I used to find that appealing. I don't any more.

“So you came here to harass my wife?”

Leila doesn’t answer, she just looks down instead, probably in some kind of denial that Ana is my wife.

“Leila, if you come anywhere near my wife again, I will cut off all support. Doctors, art school, medical insurance – all of it – gone. Do you understand?”

Leila has to comprehend that I'm sick of all her manipulative little games. She has had every possible support and help that she could want, and yet here she is again, stirring things up. I am making it clear that I will not continue as her sympathetic benefactor if she attempts to disrupt my marriage in any way again.

“Christian…” Ana tries to butt in again, but I throw her a look to tell her to just shut the fuck up. This is not her concern. I'm laying this on the line to Leila for once and for all.

“Yes,” Leila whispers.

“What’s Susannah doing in reception?”

“She came with me.”

Elena used to arrange a handover between my old and new subs to ensure they understood my requirements perfectly to minimize the transition period, but I hadn't realized any of them had become friends. Why would I? I was never that involved in any of their personal lives.

“Christian, please. Leila just wants to say thank you. That’s all,” Ana tries to argue.

So that’s Leila’s angle is it? Using gratitude as an excuse to harass my wife again.

“Did you stay with Susanna while you were sick?”

“Yes.”

“Did she know what you were doing while you were staying with her?”

“No. She was away on vacation.”

I’ll get that checked out, because I would have expected Susannah to have contacted either me or Elena if she'd had any concerns about Leila’s mental state. At least it explains where Leila was hanging out, when she seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth while we were trying to track her down. It never occurred to me that she might have been with any of the other girls. I didn’t think she had any friends.

“Why do you need to see me? You know you should send any requests through Flynn. Do you need something?”

Has there been any kind of breakdown in communication that I’m unaware of, that might explain her motives?

“I had to know.” Leila turns her brown eyes on me.

“Had to know what?” I snap, sensing she’s still trying to inveigle her way back into my affections.

“That you’re okay.”

“That I’m okay?”

“Yes.”

How fucking dare she assume she has a right to meddle in my life under the pretext of being concerned about me.

“I’m fine. There, question answered. Now Taylor will run you to Sea-Tac so you can go back to the East Coast. And if you take one step west of the Mississippi, it’s all gone. Understand?”

“Yes. I understand,” Leila murmurs.

“Good.” At least she’s not putting up any kind of a fight. Unlike my errant wife of course, who feels a compulsion to argue.

“It might not be convenient for Leila to go back now. She has plans,” she states, as she glares at me. What? This is the woman who held you at gunpoint, remember?

“Anastasia, this does not concern you,” I glare back.

“Leila came to see me, not you,” she stubbornly insists. Are you really that stupid? Leila used you in order to get to see me.

“I had my instructions, Mrs. Grey. I disobeyed them.” Leila sides with me against my wife. Clever, manipulative move. 

“This is the Christian Grey I know.”

I frown at the insinuation that she knows me better than my wife
.

“I’d like to stay until tomorrow. My flight is at noon,” Leila says quietly.

That’s fine by me if it means she’ll go quietly.

“I’ll have someone collect you at ten to take you to the airport.” And they will be making sure you actually leave.

“Thank you.”

“You’re at Susannah’s?” I confirm. I have her address on file, so we’ll know where to pick her up from.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Goodbye Mrs. Grey. Thank you for seeing me.” Then the women actually shake hands. How fucking nice and civilized.

“Goodbye, Christian.”

“Goodbye, Leila. Dr. Flynn, remember?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I open the door for Leila to leave, but she halts. Fuck. I knew she was giving in too easily. 

“I'm glad you’re happy. You deserve to be,” is her parting shot, before Taylor escorts her out. She had to have the final word. 

That leaves just Ana and me in the room. And if I ever thought she might be apologetic for going against my instructions, boy was I mistaken. But how can she possibly argue that it is unreasonable of me to want to protect her from the woman who held her at gunpoint?

She lays into me about how Prescott was only obeying her instructions, that she couldn’t remember me issuing a papal bull decreeing that she couldn’t see Leila, and how I hadn't told her that her visitors were subject to a proscribed list. 

She’s really pretty animated on the subject, and fuck me if my wife doesn’t look really hot and sexy when she gets on her high horse like this. And after dealing with Leila’s underhand tricks and slyness, Ana's straight forward reaction is like a breath of fresh air.

“Papal bull?” I ask, amused.

But Ana stubbornly refuses to let it go, even though Leila has now been taken care of. I know Taylor will personally be ensuring she is on that plane tomorrow, and that she will not be causing any further problems before she heads off. She has proved a thorn in his side once too often for him to take any further nonsense from her.

Ana wants to know why I was so cold and callous towards Leila. Seriously? She has to ask? So I spell it out. Anastasia is the most precious being in my entire universe. Therefore, I don’t want the woman who held her at gunpoint anywhere near her.

“But Christian, she was ill,” she argues.

“I know that, and I know she’s better now, but I'm not giving her the benefit of the doubt anymore. What she did was unforgivable.”

“But you just played right into her hands. She wanted to see you again, and she knew you’d come running if she came to see me.”

So if Ana’s worked that much out, why can't she see how manipulative the rest of Leila’s behavior is? I don’t want to clarify any further, in fact I don’t want to discuss Leila, or Susannah or anything to do with my previous lifestyle. 

I don’t want my beautiful new life with my beautiful new wife tainted with any of my old sick shit. It’s all in the past, and that’s where I want it all left.

But Ana doesn't see it like that, as she argues that my past has made me the man I am today, she accepted that when she married me, as she continues to defend Leila.

“She didn’t hurt me. She loves you too.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” I just want this over and done with. Finished. Subject closed.

Ana gapes at me in shock. She keeps on at me, arguing that I'm not the heartless bastard I claim to be, that I do care about Leila and that’s why I pay for her medical care and art classes.

I don’t know about care for her – I feel guilty that my harsh treatment of her may have made her underlying condition worse, even if I had no idea at the time. Point is, if I had been the kind of caring individual Ana seems to think I am, I would have noticed, wouldn’t I? And paying for  Leila’s care is hardly a hardship for a man as wealthy as I am. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. It’s late afternoon now, and neither of us is going to get any productive work done, so I suggest we head home together.

“It’s too early,” Ana mutters sullenly.

“Home.” I insist. We can have some great sex to reconnect when we get back, it’s the best way to take out my frustration on my errant wife. Sex on my terms, of course.

“Christian, I'm tired of having the same argument with you.”

I don’t understand - we don’t argue about Leila all the time, so what does she mean?

“You know. I do something you don’t like, and you think of some way to get back at me usually involving some of your kinky fuckery, which is either mind-blowing or cruel,” she shrugs.

Now she’s got my attention.

“What was mind-blowing?” 

Kinky fuckery is a topic I'm more than happy to discuss with my wife, especially if it distracts her from the subject of my feelings for my ex subs.

“You know,” she sweetly blushes. Ana still gets shy about talking dirty.

“I can guess,” I whisper as I smile, my mind running through all the possible scenarios she could be referring to. I never forget any details of the great fucks I share with my wife, in fact I’d say I have a photographic memory of them stored away for future reference. “I like to please you.”

“You do,” she whispers back.

“I know, it’s the one thing I do know.” Whatever else I may be, I do know that I am a Master at sex. I always ensure my wife has a truly great orgasm, if that’s what I've chosen to give her. I know her body better than she does. 

Right now, I can see that Ana is trying to make out she’s not affected by the thought of us having sex, but the ever present chemistry between us means that she just can't help herself. She wants me just as much as I want her.

“What was mind-blowing, Anastasia?”

“You want the list?”

“There’s a list?” So many great fucks she needs a list eh? Good job, Grey.

“Well, the handcuffs.”

I take her hand to look at the delicate paper thin skin of her wrist. I'm never using those spiteful handcuffs on her again. The evidence of their effectiveness on her skin still haunts me. 

“I don’t want to mark you.” But there are plenty of other options, as I'm only too willing to show you. “Come home.”

“I have work to do.”

“Home.”

As we gaze at each other, I can feel myself getting aroused, and I decide I’d be quite happy to take my wife right here, right now. Why not? There’s a lock on the door. It would add to the growing list of places we’ve had sex, although I would prefer to take her in her actual office rather than this meeting room. 

It would be my way of marking it, establishing myself here, so that every time she worked at the desk where we'd fucked, she’d remember me, remember how good we are together, that she is mine, she is my wife, that she belongs to me and only me. 

But this meeting room is good too. I can handle having sex in here. I can give my wife a great orgasm right here, have her screaming with pleasure in just a matter of minutes. 

“We could stay here.”

“Christian, I don’t want to have sex here. Your mistress has just been in this room.”

I come crashing back down to earth from my desk sex fantasy.

“She was never my mistress,” I growl.

“That’s just semantics, Christian.

“Don’t over think this, Ana. She’s history.”

But Ana is thinking, and as I watch her face, I can see that something is worrying her, eating at her. I kiss her sweet lips to try and bring her out of whatever it is.

“Oh Christian, you scare me sometimes,” she finally says, as she twists her fingers in my hair and pulls me down to return my kiss. I take her in my arms to try and reassure her.

“Why?”

“Because if you could turn away from her so easily…”

“You think I might turn away from you, Ana? Why the hell would you think that? What’s brought this on?”

“Nothing. Kiss me. Take me home,” she pleads.

~~~

My wife is very stubborn and persistent. Even after really great mind blowing sex in our bed at home, where I am in total control of her pleasure, she is still going on about me caring.

“I want you to admit that you care. Because the Christian I know and love would care.”

This is obviously a very important matter to her, so although I'm very tempted to just brush her concerns aside and evade answering her, I realize I mustn’t, otherwise it is just going to keep festering in her mind, get blown out of all proportion and become far more important than it should. 

All because of manipulative Leila. I cannot afford to let that happen. But it’s hard, because I don’t want to admit to feeling anything before Ana. She’s the one who has brought me to life. No one else. Only her.

“Yes. Yes, I care. Happy?” I finally admit, just to shut her up.

“Yes. Very,” Ana smiles, clearly relieved.

“I can't believe I'm talking to you now, here in our bed, about…”

Ana silences me by putting her finger on my lips.

“We’re not. Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”

“You beguile and bewilder me, Mrs. Grey,” I sigh, as I shake my head, thankful that finally she seems to be closing the subject.

“Good,” she says, as she sweetly kisses my lips.

At least I seem to have said the right thing to reassure her, although I'm still confused as to why whether or not I cared about someone in the past is so important to her. 

Anastasia  is the love of my life, and always will be. Surely she understands that by now?

I don’t own any of the Fifty Shades Trilogy or the characters therein. They belong to E L James. I’m just borrowing them for fun and not for profit. Please refer to the Legal’s page for further details. This work is not to be copied or reproduced in any way without permission.