Fifty Shades Freed (Christian & Ana)(165)

Christian's burning gray gaze pins first me then Leila to our chairs. His demeanor is quietly determined, but I know better, and I suspect Leila does, too. The menacing cool glint in his eyes reveals the truth—he's emanating rage, though he hides it well. In his gray suit, with his dark tie loosened and the top button of his white shirt undone, he looks at once businesslike and casual . . . and hot. His hair is in disarray—no doubt because he's been running his hands through it in exasperation.

Leila looks nervously down at the edge of the table, running her index finger along the edge again as Christian looks from me to her and then to Prescott.

"You," he says to Prescott in a soft tone. "You're fired. Get out now."

I blanch. Oh no—this isn't fair.

"Christian—" I make to stand up.

He holds his index finger up at me in warning. "Don't," he says. His voice so ominously quiet that I'm immediately silenced and rooted to my seat. Bowing her head, Prescott walks briskly out of the room to join Taylor. Christian shuts the door behind her and walks to the edge of the table. Crap! Crap! Crap! That was my fault. Christian stands opposite Leila, and placing both hands on the wooden surface, he leans forward.

"What the f*ck are you doing here?" he growls at her.

"Christian!" I gasp. He ignores me.

"Well?" he demands.

Leila peeks up at him through long lashes, her eyes wide, her face ashen, her rosy glow gone.

"I wanted to see you, and you wouldn't let me," she whispers.

"So you came here to harass my wife?" His voice is quiet. Too quiet.

Leila looks down at the table again.

He stands, glowering at her. "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?"

"Christian—" I try again. But he silences me with a chilling look. Why is he being so unreasonable? My compassion for this sad woman blooms.

"Yes," she says, her voice just audible.

"What's Susannah doing in reception?"

"She came with me."

He runs a hand through his hair, glaring at her.

"Christian, please," I beg him. "Leila just wants to say thank you. That's all."

He ignores me, concentrating his wrath on Leila. "Did you stay with Susannah while you were sick?"

"Yes."

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

"No. She was away on vacation."

He strokes his index finger over his lower lip. "Why do you need to see me?

You know you should send any requests through Flynn. Do you need something?"

His tone has softened, maybe by a fraction.

Leila runs her finger along the edge of the table again.

Stop bullying her, Christian!

"I had to know." And for the first time she looks up directly at him.

"Had to know what?" he snaps.

"That you're okay."

He gapes at her. "That I'm okay?" he scoffs, disbelieving.

"Yes."

"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 Missis-sippi, it's all gone. Understand?"

Holy f*ck . . . Christian! I gape at him. What the f*ck is eating him? He cannot confine her to one side of the country.

"Yes. I understand," Leila says quietly.