Fifty Shades Freed (Christian & Ana)(219)

Oh God, I hope I'm doing the right thing. Mia, think of Mia. I can't tell anyone.

Jack's chilling, repugnant words haunt me. "Tell no one or I'll f*ck her up before I kill her."

Mr. Whelan returns, pale-faced and sheepish.

"Mrs. Grey? Your husband wants to speak with you," he murmurs and points to the phone on the glass table between us.

What? No.

"He's on line one. Just press the button. I'll be outside." He has the grace to look embarrassed. Benedict Arnold has nothing on Whelan. I scowl at him, feeling the blood drain from my face again as he shuffles out of the office.

Shit! Shit! Shit! What am I going to say to Christian? He'll know. He'll inter-vene. He's a danger to his sister. My hand trembles as I reach for the phone. I hold it against my ear, trying to calm my erratic breathing, and press the button for line one.

"Hi," I murmur, trying in vain to steady my nerves.

"You're leaving me?" Christian's words are an agonized, breathless whisper.

What?

"No!" My voice mirrors his. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no—how can he think that?

The money? He thinks I'm going because of the money? And in moment of hor-rific clarity, I realize the only way I'm going to keep Christian at arm's length, out of harm's way, and to save his sister . . . is to lie.

"Yes," I whisper. And searing pain lances through me, tears springing to my eyes.

He gasps, almost a sob. "Ana, I—" He chokes.

No! My hand clutches my mouth as I stifle my warring emotions. "Christian, please. Don't." I fight back tears.

"You're going?" he says.

"Yes."

"But why the cash? Was it always the money?" His tortured voice is barely audible.

No! Tears roll down my face. "No," I whisper.

"Is five million enough?"

Oh please, stop!

"Yes."

"And the baby?" His voice is a breathless echo.

What? My hand moves from my mouth to my belly. "I'll take care of the baby," I murmur. My Little Blip . . . our Little Blip.

"This is what you want?"

No!

"Yes."

He inhales sharply. "Take it all," he hisses.

"Christian," I sob. "It's for you. For your family. Please. Don't."

"Take it all, Anastasia."

"Christian—" And I nearly cave. Nearly tell him—about Jack, about Mia, about the ransom. Just trust me, please! I silently beg him.

"I'll always love you." His voice is hoarse. He hangs up.

"Christian! No . . . I love you, too." And all the stupid shit that we put each other through over the last few days fades into insignificance. I promised I'd never leave him. I am not leaving you. I am saving your sister. I slump into the chair, weeping copiously into my hands.

I am interrupted by a timid knock on the door. Whelan enters, though I haven't acknowledged him. He looks everywhere but at me. He's mortified.

You called him, you bastard! I glare at him.

"You have carte blanche, Mrs. Grey," he says. "Mr. Grey has agreed to liquefy some of his assets. He says you can have whatever you need."

"I just need five million dollars," I mutter through gritted teeth.

"Yes ma'am. Are you all right?"

"Do I look all right?" I snap.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Some water?"

I nod, sullenly. I have just left my husband. Well, Christian thinks I have. My subconscious purses her lips. Because you told him so.