Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,68

to rise. I shake my head to rouse myself, and then I remember—today, I make Ana mine.

Today, at 12 p.m.

Yes!

And then I get to spend three weeks with her in Europe. I can’t wait to show Ana all the sights. As I lie in bed feeling excited about what I have planned, I have an idea.

Hmm… I’m going to pack a few toys from the playroom to add to the fun.

Yes.

I bound out of bed, grab a T-shirt, and head toward the kitchen. From the corridor I hear voices. Ray is sitting at the kitchen counter, tucking into bacon, eggs, hash browns, and sausages. He’s chatting with Mrs. Jones. Unlike me, he’s dressed, in his wedding shirt and tuxedo pants. “Good morning,” I greet him.

“Good morning, Christian. How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Morning, Mr. Grey,” Gail gushes. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

“It’s a mighty fine place you have here,” Ray says, motioning to the ceiling with his knife.

“Thank you.”

“Ana tells me you’ve bought a house.”

“Yes. It’s up the coast.”

Ray nods. “She says you have a place in Aspen and New York, too.”

“Um…yes. You know, property. Um. It’s about diversifying my portfolio.”

He nods, but gives nothing away. “A lot of places for one person to mind.”

“Well, after today, there’ll be two of us minding them.”

His eyebrows rise high into his forehead, and a slow smile that is either admiration or incredulity spreads across his face. I hope it’s admiration. “I guess you’re right,” he says.

I want to move the conversation off this topic. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did. That room is probably one of the fanciest I’ve ever stayed in. And that is some view.”

“I’m glad you were comfortable.”

“Here you are, Mr. Grey.” Mrs. Jones places a black coffee on the counter in front of me.

“Thank you, Gail.”

“What would you like for breakfast?”

“What Ray’s having.”

She smiles. “Coming right up, sir.”

I slide onto the stool beside Ray and ask him if he’s been fishing recently. His eyes light up.

Even I have to admit that Elliot looks good in a tux. We’re in the back of the Q7, and nearing our parents’ place in Bellevue. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I wish people would stop asking me that.”

“You? Nervous? You’re the coolest dude I know. What gives? Is it because you’re saddling yourself to the same woman for the rest of your life? I’d be nervous, too.”

I roll my eyes. “Your promiscuity knows no bounds, Elliot. One of these days someone is going to turn your world upside down. I didn’t know it would happen to me. And yet here we are.”

His eyes cloud, and he looks out of the window as we pull up to our parents’ house. There are a number of cars queuing for the valet service, and guests in their wedding finery are following the pale pink carpet to the rear of the house. As Taylor steers us into the driveway, two guys in dark suits, with discreet earpieces and regulation aviators, step forward and open our doors. They’re the additional security.

“Ready?” asks Elliot with a quick, reassuring glance at me. “If you want to back out, there’s still time.”

“Fuck off.”

He grins and climbs out of the car.

I take a deep breath.

This is it.

Showtime, Grey.

My phone buzzes and I glance at it.

Fuck. My scalp tingles. It’s a text from Elena.

ELENA

You’re making a big mistake.

I know you. But I’ll be here

for you when your life falls apart.

And it will. I’ll be here because

in spite of what I said I love you.

I’ll always love you.

What the everlasting fuck is this?

“Christian,” Elliot distracts me. “Are you coming?” He’s waiting.

“Yes,” I snap. I quickly delete the text and climb out of the car.

Fuck her.

“You okay?” Elliot frowns when I join him.

“Yes. Let’s do this.” I storm ahead, trying to bring my burst of anger under control. How dare Elena try to derail me on my wedding day! I ignore the young woman who’s standing on the path, all smiles. She’s carrying a clipboard, but I charge past her, leaving Elliot to check in with her, as I head through the front door. Grace is in the hall.

“Darling, you’re here.”

“Mother.”

“You look so handsome, Christian.” She puts her arms around me, gives me a swift, restrained hug, and inclines her head toward me, offering a cheek.

“Mom,” I whisper, and she steps back, concern flashing in her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

“Ana is upstairs—you can’t see her until the wedding. She slept in your room last night. Come with me.” She takes my hand and leads me down