I'm lying on a deck chair in the company of a book that predicts the collapse of the Western banking system. The sun's rays fall on the pages, blinding the text. I look up from reading and turn my gaze to the sky, blue as Anastasia’s eyes. Amazingly, even it reminds me of Miss Steele, more recently Mrs. Gray. Who would have thought how many years I have been going to Flynn, tried all the methods in psychotherapy and nothing helped, but this woman was able to change me. Thanks to her, I got rid of nightmares and my main fear – being touched. She is like a talisman in my life, my angel. She showed me the way to salvation, led me out of eternal darkness and gloom, and led me to the sun. I was able to look at the world differently, break out of the shackles of Helena, which I had not noticed before, or refused to notice. But now I understand the main thing - I like the new way of life, I am no longer going to return to the old one, except sometimes, solely for the sake of our joint pleasure. So, get yourself together Gray, it’s time to remind yourself.
Miss Acton did a good job, the white bikini looks perfect on my Mrs. wife. But now it would be better for her to cover herself from the midday sun, considering that she had fallen asleep. I approach Anya and whisper in a calm voice in her ear:
You'll burn.
Only from you. “She opens her beautiful eyes and looks at me with a smile. I grin back. While Anastasia is about to add something else, I deftly move the lounge chair into the shade.
You are such an altruist, Mr. Gray. Thank you. - She bites her lip again. Oh, for this I would gladly fuck her here and now, but I have no desire to organize a sex show with the participation of my wife in front of strangers.
You're welcome, Mrs. Grey. And I'm not an altruist at all. If you burn, I won't be able to touch you. But I suppose you know this yourself, and therefore laugh at me.
Really? - Ana looks at me with big eyes, with the look of an innocent child. This makes me want to laugh.
Yes, yes, that's exactly what you do. And often. And this is just one of the many little things that I love about you. - I lean towards Anya, I feel a familiar attraction. Our tongues intertwine in a passionate fiery dance. I release my desires: I bite her lower lip.
I was expecting you to rub suntan lotion on my back. – Anastasia is trying to feign offense, but to be honest, she won’t do well.
Mrs. Gray, this is a dirty job, but... it’s impossible to refuse such an offer. Sit down. – From anticipation of the process, my voice becomes hoarse, it’s hard to restrain my sexual desires near their source.
Ana obeys, it feels damn good to know that. Unfortunately, in this situation, she obeyed for the sake of her own pleasure, for which she will now receive light revenge from Mr. Gray.
With leisurely movements, I smear the lotion over her body, enjoying the look of her snow-white skin, although after our rest a light tan appeared. My fingers move to her breasts, now not only Mrs. Gray gets pleasure. From the deft movements of my hands, Ana’s nipples harden.
You really are lovely. I'm lucky to have you.
That's right, Mr. Gray, lucky. “She looks at me from under lowered eyelashes, trying to remain unnoticed.
Modesty suits you, Mrs. Grey. Turn over. I want to work on your back.
And again my order was immediately carried out, oh, if only it were always like this. I remove the back strap of her bikini and mentally imagine how I will take it off in our cabin. Ana turns and looks at me with a sly look.
How would you feel if I sunbathed topless like other women on the beach? - What?! It was not enough for all sorts of perverts to look at my wife. Enough of her sexy bikini look.
I wouldn't like it very much. In my opinion, you already have too little clothes on, don’t tempt fate. – Ana’s eyes instantly widen, from which the desire to quench the itch in her palm is replaced by another - to laugh.
Is this a challenge, Mr. Grey?
Not at all, Mrs. Grey. Just a statement of fact.
I think the lotion is already enough. I quite spank her delicious ass.
Enough of you, beauty. “At this moment my BlackBerry vibrates.” Damn, ruined my plans for Mrs. Grey. Ana frowns, as if reading my thoughts. I shrug and grin.
This is confidential, Mrs. Grey. - I put on a serious expression, once again spank Anastasia on her delicious ass, and return to my chaise longue.
Mr. Gray, this is Barney. I sent you new program for tablet on solar battery, I think it's worth improving the design.
Okay, Barney. I'll take a look and let you know. This is all?
Have a nice day, sir. - I press “hang up” and go to Anya. Damn, she fell asleep, I don’t want to wake her up. I return to my sun lounger and look through the new program. Barney did a good job, but he was right, the design really needs work and the interface needs to be made more convenient. This version is difficult to understand.
The BlackBerry vibrates again, and "Elliot" appears on the display. Hell, I'm thousands of miles from Seattle and he's getting on my nerves even here.
Hello Eliot. What did you want?
Hey bro. How Honeymoon? Do you miss your empire? “Damn, I really don’t like his unsuccessful attempts at humor.” It seems that my brother has no sense of humor at all.
Don't tell me you're calling to ask if I miss my empire. Our vacation is going well, but you are preventing us from making it even better.
Christian, you're boring. I wanted to ask when are you coming back? Mia insisted that I call and ask. You know her, she’s started something again, it seems that this time she’s going to organize a party in honor of your return. – Yes, it’s in my sister’s style. Since childhood, she happily helped her mother with organizing any events.
Tell her nothing has changed and she knows when we're going back. This is all?
Dude, sometimes I think you're a robot. Learn to relax, you're on your honeymoon, not a day at the office.
I'll take your advice into account. Bye, Eliot. - I leave the BlackBerry on the table and start reading a book.
I put the book I’ve already read aside and look at my watch. I didn’t even notice how three hours flew by. It's time to eat, Ana didn't take practically anything today. I gesture to the waitress:
Mam"selle? Un Perrier pour moi, un Coca-Cola light pour ma femme, s"il vous plaît. Et quelque chose à manger… laissez-voir la carte. – I choose two first courses from the menu and dismiss the waitress with a gesture. She looks at me embarrassedly from under her lowered eyelashes, clearly not wanting to go. What is she hoping for? I'm married, and I can't stand blondes.
Ana looks at me in surprise.
Do you want to drink?
Yes. – Hmm, Mrs. Gray is not yet fully awake, it’s time to correct the situation.
I could look at you like that all day. Tired? “She blushes, just like she did during our first meeting.”
Have not had enough sleep.
Me too. - I rise from my seat, my shorts have slipped off my hips so that my swimming trunks are visible. I smile predatorily, take off my shorts and flip-flops, gracefully heading towards Anya. Her lips form an "o". - Let's go for a swim. “I extend my hand, but she looks at me in a daze. - Shall we swim? – Ana is still silent. - I think it's time to shake you up. “With a sharp movement I lift my wife into my arms, causing her to squeal.
Let me go! Let go!
Only at sea, baby. - The French are watching the free show with interest, which makes my grin turn into laughter. Anastasia tightens her grip on my neck.
You won't dare.
Ana, my little one, haven’t you really understood anything? a short time that we know each other? - I lean down and press a hot kiss to her lips. Anastasia runs her fingers through my hair and returns the kiss. I know very well what she is trying to achieve, and if I don’t calm down, I will lose this battle. I take a sharp breath of fresh air.
You can't fool me, I know your games. “We plunge into the cool water, our lips again reach out to her, my Mrs. Gray.
It seemed like you wanted to swim.
I'll swim with you. - I gently bite her lower lip. “Still, I wouldn’t want the pious inhabitants of Monte Carlo to see my wife in a paroxysm of passion.” - Ana...do you want to go to sea? - Wrapping my tail around her wrist, I pull her head away and leave a trail of kisses along her neck - from her ear and down.
I pull away and see passion in her eyes.
Mrs. Grey, you are insatiable. And you are so shameless. What kind of monster have I created?
A monster for your mate. Would you tolerate another me? – The thought of another makes me shudder. No, I don't want anyone but her.
I'll take you any way I can. And you know it. But not now. Not in public. - I nod towards the shore. While Anastacia looks at the audience of our little show, I grab her around the waist and throw her up. She takes off like an angel, but immediately falls into the water, onto the soft sand.
Christian! – Anastasia feigns a frown. I have to bite my lip to keep from breaking into a smile. Of course, this gesture does not go unnoticed by Mrs. Gray, and splashes of water fly in my direction. Hang in there baby, you asked for it. I answer her in kind, no longer trying to suppress a stupid smile.
We still have the whole night ahead of us. Then, baby, later. – I dive under the water, only emerging near Ana.
While I'm swimming, I notice that Anastacia is no longer in the sea. Damn it, where is she?! Unexpected fear fills me, I urgently need to return to the shore. I want to know that my wife is here and okay. Returning to land, I see her in a sun lounger. I come closer, and a wave of anger rolls over me with unprecedented force, I can barely restrain myself from spanking her right there. Damn it, how dare my wife take off her swimsuit, knowing that she was not alone on the beach?!
What are you doing? “From my scream, she quickly wakes up and looks at me in confusion.
The text is large so it is divided into pages.
Read completely 
The gray has become darker
In October, the Eksmo publishing house will publish the novel “Fifty Shades Darker” by the English writer E. L. James, which continues the “Fifty Shades” trilogy.
Russian amateurs gray will be able to trace further history the difficult relationship between millionaire Christian Gray and student Anastasia Steele. Watching with bated breath the passions heated to the limit, readers will learn a little more about the childhood of a mysterious millionaire, hiding a drama that left an imprint on his entire life. The detective line adds some spice to the plot. Familiar characters appear in a new light, and the ambiguous ending leaves questions that will be answered in the third part.
The first novel of the trilogy, Fifty Shades of Grey, was published in Russian this summer. On the wave of the commercial success of the Western original, the initial edition sold out in a matter of days, the shocking bestseller immediately took the first line of the sales ratings of leading bookstores.
Exclusive rights to publish the trilogy by E. L. James “Fifty Shades” in Russia belong to the Eksmo publishing house.
Read completely"Fifty Shades of Gray" and the Intellectual Balance of the World
There is, perhaps, the only position in which Moscow is not inferior to London and New York, and this position was occupied by the British blogger Erica Leonard, known throughout the world under the pseudonym E L James. Someday, 2012 will go down in history as the year when everyone read Fifty Shades of Gray, and this fact will tell us no less about the mentality of humanity than the history of the protest movement, the Pussy Riots trial, the tightening of the law on pedophilia and the introduction of the notorious age restrictions. restrictions on TV. Most likely, all these facts will be systematically analyzed and regarded as “links of one damn chain.” It is interesting that, according to sociological measurements, Erica Leonard’s erotic fan fiction is read by approximately the same group of the population (educated women over 40) that throughout the past year provided record sales for the collection of stories by Archimandrite Tikhon (Shevkunov) (8th place), which went through 4 reprints in 11 months and firmly established in the top 10 main metropolitan bookmarkets.
Read completelyA little about back pain
For a full-fledged, I would add, a comprehensive retelling of the new world bestseller, one page is enough. However, let's not forget that this is only the first book of a comprehensive trilogy. Carefree housewives abroad have long enjoyed all parts of “Shades,” but for us, Russian book lovers, it remains to discuss the first volume, which contains almost 600 pages. What are they about?
University graduate Anastacia - a pretty 21-year-old girl, a virgin who refuses all suitors - agrees to replace the sick woman best friend Katherine and travel a hundred miles to the office of a young billionaire to interview for the university newspaper. Cursing, the girl gets to the place, literally stumbles into the office of the charming 27-year-old prince, who has never been seen in the company of women, and begins the interview: questions with the scent of the inimitable style of a tabloid newspaper. Then there are pure trivialities: the girl returns home, the businessman “accidentally” ends up in the store where she works, then a drunken disco and Anastasia wakes up in the luxurious bed of the rich Christine Gray.
The usual fairy tale about the sudden love of a young prince for a shy girl from a simple family, naturally, would hardly have become a bestseller if it were not for the spicy seasoning of the billionaire’s strange hobbies. As the novel progresses, it turns out that Christian loves helicopters and paragliders, and - not to all ears and eyes - to dominate; very briefly: to subjugate your beloved in everything, not only the employees of a huge company, business partners, but young ladies who prefer a pinch of pain to sex.
There is sex in the book. It may even show someone that it is too much. The middle-aged E L James followed the beaten path, rewarding her beloved heroine with a series of orgasms. The point, of course, is a skillful billionaire lover - a victim of pedophilia and the owner of “impressive proportions.” Christian Gray in some places resembles Oscar Wilde's Dorian Gray. Perhaps the charming Lord Henry will appear in the next parts of Shades.
An expensive laptop falls at Anastacia’s feet, mobile phone and a red Audi convertible (only this brand is welcomed in the book), in addition, an agreement that has no legal force, but clearly explains and warns the girl what could happen to her as soon as she falls into the clutches of a preoccupied billionaire. While the student is “thinking,” young Christian continues his sexual experiments. “I’ll fuck you in the mouth” (Anastacia turns out to be the queen of blowjobs; did you doubt it?), “I have plans for your ass” (spanks a couple of times, but they won’t get to the point of anal sex), “we’ll keep this fur” (about pubic hair ) and so on. A businessman “takes advantage” of a girl who is inexperienced in sex, forcing her to experience orgasm after orgasm. Anastasia cums quickly, simple caresses are enough. At the mere sight of her beloved man she has “butterflies in her stomach”, she feels wet (all the signs of readiness for intercourse are meticulously repeated in every chapter) and it is enough to squeeze one of the girl’s nipples with her teeth in order to bring the matter to a release.
The trouble is, Anastasia dreams of love, rejects the contract, which outlines forty of their relationship - three months. “I want more,” she says, biting her lip. “I warned you, don’t bite your lip and don’t roll your eyes,” Christina answers her habitually. As a rule, after such a dialogue, which E L James stretches over ten pages, there are three to five pages of dispassionate and ridiculous sex, and all the BDSM tricks - it seemed to me, “ kindergarten"compared to how our men sometimes treat their wives. “I will spank you, but not as punishment, but for the sake of our pleasure,” the phrase appears on page 417.
God knows what's in the minds of forty million housewives who have mastered Mrs. James's trilogy. The author of these lines barely finished reading the first book and, of course, will read the second and third - solely out of professional curiosity. I don’t advise others to read it, but if you have already read it, then I raise my hands, you are ahead of me, you are infected.
Joys of the day
“Five hundred and twenty-eight pages? Are you serious? We thought it was just a pornographic brochure”—something like this could be heard in a bookstore at the start of sales. And after that, many buyers modestly hesitated at the checkout: “Damn it, they’re going to point fingers at us now,” as if you were buying some kind of Hustler. In general, the feeling of the adventure of buying “Fifty Shades” can be compared to the first trip to the pharmacy for contraception, adjusted for the apparent intellectuality of the undertaking.
We read the synopsis: the touchy-feely Anastasia Steele, just before her final exams from the university, goes to Seattle to interview the rich man presenting diplomas to the graduates for the student newspaper. Pinocchio's name is Christian Gray (it's strange that it's not Dorian - since E. L. James clearly doesn't know how to play literary games: all her allusions, if I may put it that way, come out straight to the point). He has a Charlie Tango helicopter, a corporation that brings in phenomenal income, a devoted bodyguard, Taylor, who doesn’t ask unnecessary questions, and a whole staff of blondes who hang out under the stern gaze of their boss. The interview doesn’t go well: first Anastasia stumbles on the threshold of the office and falls straight into the arms of her betrothed, then for some reason she asks if she’s gay, but in the end she still receives an invitation to work. Tactfully refusing, she runs home. The millionaire sensed prey and does not intend to let it go just like that. They meet several more times and by the hundredth page they finally fall into bed. Well, it would be better if they didn’t do this - everything else is simply impossible to read (although even before that, reading looks like a marathon on girlish passions). We put it off. We read a little more and put it aside again.
And this is what almost all literary observers in our country did for almost two weeks. "Fifty Shades of Gray" is a book for the most persistent reader. Not everyone can reach the finals. But the experience, of course, is priceless: you will break through three dozen orgasms of unfortunate Anastacia, and then at least lead a construction crew. True, there is no need to talk about the plot, intrigue and twists and turns here: scenes of a sexual nature alternate with obscure dialogues and descriptions of the mental tossing of a young but purposeful American woman. Yes, the heroine loses her innocence, falls into sin, seriously thinks about her passion for BDSM culture and writes letters to her beloved e-mail(they are not much easier to read than descriptions of intercourse). Now you know what the whole world is hiding under its pillow... judging by the ratings.
But why does this nonsense work? Where did the forty million copies sold come from? We immediately reject the theory that the world has gone crazy and Western culture is in a deep crisis. It seems that in this case there is a mechanism at work that involves, ahem-ahem, “erotic recognition centers.” If you didn’t know, there are some aesthetes who are drawn to intertextuality - from something understandable only to their narrow circle who read the first, second and tenth. For them, the pleasure of most novels of the 20th century is born from a feeling of their own superiority, literary snobbery: “here is a quote from there, and here the author is copying the style of such and such”... In “Fifty”, “Shades of Gray”, despite all its insignificance language and techniques, this mechanism is exposed to the limit: the centers of recognition are indeed “erotic”. Literally, literary point ji.
Alexander Kirillov
James offers the novel "50 Shades of Gray" from the point of view of Christian (the story in the first three books was told from the point of view of Anastasia), and it is completely full new information about a mysterious billionaire.
Fans have been waiting for this for a long time. Many have stated that this story should have been told from Christian's point of view from the beginning. After all, Christian is such a complex person, and the reader more than once wondered what he felt or thought at certain moments.
And now James tells a love story from the point of view of a strange, power-hungry heartthrob - Christian Grey.
Christian's distinctive inner monologues reveal his deep, dark desires. Thanks to the “psychological component”, in James’s new book the reader will be involved in his emotions for the first time.
The story is filled with dreams and memories, hints of difficult childhood Mr. Gray, nightmares that still haunt him in his sleep and in reality. We learn that in his love for Anastacia he is involved in a constant struggle with his complexes. Deep down, he is convinced that he does not deserve to be loved. His attempts to analyze his feelings for Anastastasia Steele end with a burning desire for another sadomasochistic session. BDSM is an attempt at surrender, a means to drown out the fear of strong feelings and a way to “tame” your desires.
“Maybe the feeling will subside if I handcuff her and whip her,” he says of his growing love for Anya.
While eager fans will be delighted by more steamy sex scenes, romance lovers will finally get the answers they've been craving.
Christian's image
For most of the book, Christian acts like a teenager or a petulant child who leaves empty glasses in the sink, hoping for help, and hides things even if they are not particularly important. The reader wants to look under the mask of a spoiled playboy, hoping that he will appear as a different person. But anyone who was in love with the domineering Gray, with his l'homme fatale essence, will be deeply disappointed: Mr. Gray will simply reveal the softer, sensual and vulnerable side of his nature, and also give himself the opportunity to list those sentimental things that excite him. he is no less than the romantic young lady from Jane Austen's novels. It seems that Ana's self-deprecating irony and timidity were transmitted to him. In this novel, Christian sometimes looks like a child who cannot understand his own emotions. His outpourings reveal him not as an adult, but as a boy, insecure and lacking in life experience.
Christian's Nightmares
We get a glimpse into Mr. Gray's subconscious, a dark place that is not as pleasant to touch as the reader might expect. Christian is still tormented by hang-ups from his abusive childhood.
Anastacia's image
It's still the same sweet, fragile, clumsy Ana! She disappears in a cloud of grammatically incredible metaphors and appears again to stun the protagonist with her charms or stretch out on the road, almost falling under the wheels of a cyclist.
Love for Anastacia
Even though Christian wants to hurt Anastasia when they are in the Red Room, he adores her. E.L. James describes in detail how he pays attention to every part of her body, how he gets sentimental, looking into her eyes, comparing her smell with the aroma of apples in his grandfather's orchard.
Sadism and Masochism
Christian shares his passion for sadomasochism with innocent Anastasia Steele.
His point of view during the sessions makes the reader wince - especially striking is his desire to see her skin 'pink'.
“Nobody can hear you, baby, just me,” he says, going all out.
When Ana desperately tries to touch him, he thinks, "God, I want to hear her cry."
Sexual contacts between Anastacia and Christian are not just physical punishment, but also mental, and also a way to get pleasure from them. The reason for these inclinations lies in Christian’s distant traumatic childhood.
Job
The reader learns that Mr. Gray's fabulous fortune is not a mythical, but a real value. Proof of this is work, negotiations and contracts. James shows how Christian conducts his business affairs, while being tormented by thoughts about Anastasia.
Bottom line
New novel James is a recap of the original Fifty Shades book. Nothing more than a retelling of a story that is already known to the reader. Letters, texts, a contract, conversations between Christian and Anastacia - all of this is nothing more than rehash of the same things familiar to the reader, but with minor changes.
"Fifty Shades of Gray. A Story Told from Christian's Point of View will likely receive mixed reactions from readers who have been excited about the other books in the series.
For some, a new book is a match for the weak and black tea that they love main character.
For the latter, this is a long-awaited invitation to look into Christian's mind and gain a better understanding of his character, to understand the motivation for his decisions and actions.
For others, this is a story that is already known, but it, like a mosaic, is made up of small pieces that distinguish it from the previous ones.
The best lines from the novel “50 Shades of Gray from the perspective of Christian Grey”:
“She disappears into the building, leaving a trace of regret, the memory of her beautiful blue eyes and the smell of an apple orchard in autumn.” Anastacia, Pour Homme and Pour Femme.
“She's too young. She's too inexperienced, but damn, I love the feeling of her hand in mine."
“But why England? I ask her. “This is the home of Shakespeare, Austen, the Bronte sisters, Thomas Hardy. I would like to see the places that inspired these people to write such wonderful books.” It's obvious that this is her first love. Books.
"That means I'm competing with Darcy and Rochester and Claire's Angel: all those impossible romantic heroes."
"Wow. She's angry at me, pouring her contempt into every syllable of my name. It's novel. And she leaves. And I don't want her to leave."
You speak like a consumer. Her subjective line from the interview comes back to haunt me. Yes, I would like to have things - things that will increase in value, like first editions."
"She's an oil slick on my troubled, deep, dark waters."
“I wake up with a pervasive feeling of guilt, as if I had committed terrible sin. Is it because he fucked Anastasia Steele? A virgin?
“Please hand me my sweatpants,” she demands, pointing at them. Wow. Miss Steele can be a bossy little thing."
“This is the first time I don't have to consider a partner's sexual history. This is the advantage of a relationship with a virgin.”
"Enough. I'll forget about her today. I have work to do and a meeting to attend.”
“Diamonds in the ears will complete the ensemble; I should buy her a couple."
“I’m stunned by her recognition, but also happy. Sensual creation."
“Apples are falling. They fall on me. I turned around and they hit me on the back. But the smell is still there, sweet and fresh. Ana."
"It has a fresh, healthy scent that reminds me of my grandfather's apple orchard."
“Her eyes widened. They are truly beautiful, the color of the Cabo ocean, the bluest of blue seas.”
Several minutes have passed since Ana left, and I still can’t come to my senses.
She left.
I do not believe in that!
“That's right, Gray. She's not a match for us. Let’s find a new submissive?”, - oh, no, I just lacked the subconscious right now. I told you to pack your things.
The desire to lose myself in alcohol overcomes me. I'm going to the kitchen.
Yes, I'm definitely going to get drunk today. I put Ana’s robe on the bar and find a bottle of whiskey in my bins. Chivas Regal. Just what you need.
I pour whiskey into a glass and am about to drink it when I hear the trill of my phone.
I take out my phone with the hope that it’s Ana, but no, it’s Elena.
“Dear Christian, hello,” she purrs.
You don't call, you don't write. “I’m worried,” she says offendedly.
When did she start to irritate me so much?
Elena, you and I are of course friends, but that doesn’t mean that I have to account for every step I take,” I say irritably, holding a glass in my hand, which could crack at any moment from my pressure.
Honey, what's happening to you? Everything was different before. We...
Elena, I'm sorry. I have to go. Bye,” I interrupt her and switch off.
After meeting with Ana, I realized that what Elena and I were doing was wrong.
Ana helped me a lot, and now she left because of my fault. I pick up the glass again and am already raising it to my mouth when my phone says new mail.
Will they give me a drink today or not? I look at my phone and read.
From: Anastasia Steele
Time: 22:18
Topic: My departure
To: Christian Gray
Christian, forgive me.
You and I are incompatible. I left because I'm afraid it will hurt more later. I love you. And I’d rather leave now than have both of us suffer later.
Goodbye.
WHAT?
She loves Me? How can you love me? I'm a monster. Who needs a person like me? A man who is into BDSM, loves to spank girls and has his own red room.
That's it. Now, I’ll definitely get drunk and no one will stop me! I drink the first glass in one gulp, the second, the third...
What a headache. Is there a third world war? I urgently need a cold shower. He will help me, I just need to get to him first. I lower my feet to the floor and immediately touch an empty bottle of cognac, and it falls.
Cognac? I started with whiskey.
“Yes, Gray, you’ll get drunk so soon,” I say mentally.
I barely make it to the shower. I turn on the water and a cascade of ice water immediately falls on me.
Yes! So much better. After standing in the shower for about five minutes, I finally come out. I wrap myself in a towel and go to the kitchen to assess the scale of the disaster.
They turned out to be very large.
The vase is broken, the flowers are lying on the floor. The head of the figurine lies at my feet, and its entire extension is scattered throughout the living room. Everything is scattered and lying around in an unknown place.
What's waiting for me in the kitchen? It's even worse in the kitchen. Did I break dishes? To my joy, I only broke a couple of plates and my least favorite mug with the inscription: "I love London"
There are two bottles of whiskey and more wine lying on the floor. That's why my head hurts so much.
I take my phone. Phew! I didn't call anyone. No SMS either. Things are already looking up. So, I'm still standing in a towel in the middle of the kitchen.
I need to get dressed.
I return to the room and wander to the dressing room. I put on my pajama pants. I'm definitely not in the mood to work today.
I turn off my phone so no one can touch me. Today I want to think only about my Anya.
Crap! She's not mine now. How bad I feel. It’s not the alcohol that makes me feel bad, but the pain in my heart. What do I have in the bar?
“Gray, drink at 11 am! What are you doing!” my subconscious tells me.
I spit on it and pour myself some Armagnac. Very tasty. So tender and sweet. Just like my Anastasia’s skin.
“I found something to compare with,” says the subconscious, stamping his foot.
Now I will see Ana in everything.
I've already drunk a whole bottle. Maybe I'm a little drunk, but years of training in adolescence gave their result. It doesn't look like I've been drinking. I stand firmly on my feet and walk towards the piano.
Asphyxiation Chopin Prelude E Minor 4.
Just about me. I'm suffocating without her. I can't live. My heart hurts now, although I thought I didn’t have one. The soul is about to turn inside out.
I never thought that after leaving subs Ana I will feel this way. But Ana is not a submissive, she did not sign the contract.
Yes, even if she signed it anyway, she cannot be herself.
“You just can’t do it any other way.” - my subconscious hisses.
It's right. I can't stand any other relationship.
Dedicated to Z and J
You are my favorite, forever
Gratitude
I want to express my endless gratitude to Sarah, Kay and Jada. Thank you for everything you have done for me.
I also give a HUGE thank you to Kathleen and Christy for bearing the brunt of the writing.
Thank you too, Niall, my love, my husband and most best friend(almost always).
And a big, big hello to all the wonderful, amazing women around the world with whom I had the pleasure of communicating and whom I now consider my friends, including Eil, Alex, Amy, Andrea, Angela, Azucena, Babs, Bee, Belinda, Betsy, Brandy, Britt, Caroline, Katherine, Dawn, Gwen, Hana, Janet, Jen, Jenn, Jill, Katie, Kelly, Liz, Mandy, Margaret, Natalia, Nicole, Nora, Olga, Pam, Polina, Raina, Raisy, Ryan, Ruth, Steph, Susi, Tasha, Taylor and Yuna. And to all the talented, funny, and kind women (and men) I’ve interacted with online.
Thanks to Morgan and Jenn for everything about the Hitman Hotel.
And finally, thanks to Janine, my editor. You are the cornerstone on which everything rests. That's all.
Prologue
He is coming back. Mom is lying on the sofa, sleeping, or she feels bad again.
I hide in the kitchen under the table, press myself against the wall so that he doesn’t notice me. I cover my face with my hands. Through my fingers I see my mother, her hand on a dirty green blanket. His huge boots with shiny buckles stop in front of her.
He hits mom with a belt. “Get up! Get up! Damn bitch! Bitch! Damn bitch! Get up, bitch! Get up! Get up!..”
Mom sobs. "No need. Please don’t!..” Mom doesn’t scream. Mom curls up into a ball and hides her face.
I close my eyes and plug my ears. Silence. I open my eyes.
He turns and stomps into the kitchen. With a belt in hand. Looking for me.
He bends down and looks under the table. A disgusting stench, a mixture of cigarettes and whiskey, hits my nose. “Here you are, you bastard...”
He wakes up to a blood-curdling howl. God! He is covered in sweat, his heart is pounding. What the hell? He sits up abruptly and shakes his head. Devil, they're back... He howled himself. He takes a deep breath, then exhales slowly, trying to calm down, to get the smell of cheap bourbon and stinking Camel cigarettes out of his nostrils and out of his memory.
Chapter 1
I somehow survived the Third-Day-Without-Christian and my first day of work. But I still managed to get a little distracted. New faces flashed by, I tried to get into the work. And then there’s my new boss, Mr. Jack Hyde... Here he comes to my desk, smiles, sparkles sparkle in his blue eyes.
- Well done, Ana. I think you and I will work well together.
Not without some effort, I stretch my lips into something like a smile.
- I'll go if you don't mind.
- Of course, go, it’s already half past six. Till tomorrow.
- Goodbye, Jack.
- Goodbye, Ana.
I take my bag, pull on my jacket and go to the door. Finding myself on the streets of Seattle, I take a deep breath. But the early evening air still doesn't fill the void in my chest, the vacuum I've felt since Saturday morning, a painful reminder of my loss. I trudge dejectedly to the bus stop and wonder how I can live now without my beloved old lady, the Wanda... or without the Audi.
I immediately pull myself together. No. Don't think about him! Yes, of course, I can now afford a car – a beautiful, new car. Perhaps he paid me too generously... After this thought, my mouth becomes bitter, but I prefer not to notice it. We need to get everything out of our heads. Don't think about anything, don't feel anything... And don't think about him. Otherwise I’ll start bawling again, right now, on the street. This was just what I needed.
Without Kate, the apartment is empty and sad. He's probably lying on the beach in Barbados right now, sipping a cool cocktail. I turn on the flat-screen TV so that the sound fills the vacuum and creates at least some feeling that I’m not alone, but I don’t listen or watch. I sit down and stare blankly at the wall. I don't feel anything, only pain. How much longer do I have to endure this?
The trill of the intercom brings me out of my stupor, and I shudder in fear. Who is this? After hesitating, I press the button.
– Delivery for Miss Steele.
The voice is lazy, boring, and disappointment fills me. I'm going down the stairs. Below, leaning against front door, a boy is standing with a cardboard box and chewing gum. I scratch my signature on the receipt and take the box. Although it is large, it is surprisingly light. Inside are two dozen long-stemmed white roses and a card.
...Congratulations on your first day at work.
I hope it went well.
And thanks for the planner. Very nice of you.
It decorated my desk.
I look at the card, at the letters printed on it, and the emptiness in my chest grows. I have no doubt that all this was sent by his secretary, hardly Christian himself. It hurts me too much to think about it. I look at the roses - they are luxurious, and I can’t bring myself to throw them away. There is nothing to do, I plop into the kitchen and look for a vase there.
This is how my life goes: waking up, work, and in the evening – tears and sleep. Well, an attempt at sleep. Christian haunts me even in my dreams. Sparkling gray eyes, bright hair the color of dark copper... And music... a lot of music - now I can’t hear it at all. I'm running from her. Even the bell in the nearby bakery makes me flinch.
I didn’t tell anyone about this, not even my mom or Ray. I don't have the strength for this. And I don't want anything at all. Now I am left alone on a desert island, on war-scorched land, where nothing grows, where the horizon is dark and empty. Yes, I am like that. At work I can communicate with everyone - and with no one in particular. That's all. If I talk to my mother, I will completely break down - and there is nothing whole left in my soul.
I lost my appetite. On Wednesday at lunch I had a glass of yogurt - the first thing I've eaten since Friday. I exist on cappuccino and diet coke. I rely on caffeine, and there is nothing good about it.
Jack often comes up to me, pesters me, asks questions about my personal life. And what does he need? I try to be polite, but I don’t let him get close.
I sit at the computer, look through Jack's mail and am glad that this stupid work distracts me from my problems. My mail beeps, I quickly look to see who the letter is from.
Damn, what news! Letter from Christian. No, that's all I needed! Why write here?
...From whom: Christian Grey
Subject: Tomorrow
To whom: Anastasia Steele
Dear Anastasia.
Sorry I'm writing to you at work. I hope I won't disturb you too much. Did you receive my flowers?
I know that the gallery is opening tomorrow, there will be an opening day for your friend. It’s a long way to go there, and you probably didn’t have time to buy a car. I'll be perfectly happy to take you there - if you want.
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