“I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“I am yours—look.” She holds up her hand, which bears her wedding and engagement rings.

“It’s not enough,” I whisper.

“Not enough that I married you?” Her voice is almost inaudible, and her eyes widen.

“That’s not what I mean.” Ana, don’t distort what I’m trying to say to you.

“What do you mean?” she demands.

“I want your world to begin and end with me.”

Her eyes are impossibly blue. “It does,” she says, and I don’t know if I’ve ever heard two words filled with such quiet passion before; they suck the air out of the room and take my breath away. “I’m just trying to establish a career,” she continues, warming to her subject, “and I don’t want to trade on your name. I have to do something, Christian.”

I swallow down my rising emotion, listening hard, as she speaks.

“I can’t stay imprisoned at Escala or the new house with nothing to do. I’ll go crazy. I’ll suffocate. I’ve always worked, and I enjoy this. This is my dream job; it’s all I’ve ever wanted. But doing this doesn’t mean I love you less. You are the world to me.” Her voice is hoarse and her eyes dewy with unshed tears.

We hold each other’s gaze, testing the silence between us.

You are my world, Ana.

But I want you bound to me in every way.

I need that.

I need you…maybe too much.

“I suffocate you?” I whisper.

“No. Yes. No.” She sounds exasperated; she closes her eyes and rubs her forehead. “Look, we were talking about my name. I want to keep my name here because I want to put some distance between you and me, but only here, that’s all. You know everyone thinks I got the job because of you, when the reality is—” She stops and sits back, staring at my expression in shock.

Shit. How does she read me so well?

Fess up, Grey.

“Do you want to know why you got the job, Anastasia?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“The management here gave you Hyde’s job to babysit. They didn’t want the expense of hiring a senior executive when the company was mid-sale. They had no idea what the new owner would do with it once it passed into his ownership, and, wisely, they didn’t want an expensive redundancy. So they gave you Hyde’s job to caretake until the new owner—namely, me—took over.”

That’s the truth.

“What are you saying?” She looks offended and horrified.

Baby. Don’t sweat this. “Relax. You’ve more than risen to the challenge. You’ve done very well.”

You’re very good at what you do, Anastasia Steele.

“Oh,” she says, and she looks lost.

And it all becomes crystal clear.

This is what she wants.

This is her dream, and I can make it come true.

I vowed I would uphold her dreams during our wedding.

I don’t want to stifle her; I want to help her reach her full potential. I want her to fly…but just not too far away from me.

“I don’t want to suffocate you, Ana. I don’t want to put you in a gilded cage. Well… Well, the rational part of me doesn’t.”

It’s a gamble, but I play my most ambitious hand yet, voicing the idea that I’ve had on the spur of this moment. “So, one of the reasons I’m here—apart from dealing with my errant wife—is to discuss what I am going to do with this company.”

Ana scowls. “So, what are your plans?” Her sarcasm is threaded through each word and she cocks her head to one side, like I do…copying me, laughing at me, I suspect.

God, I love her; she’s recovered her backbone.

“I’m changing the name of the company—to Grey Publishing.”

Ana blinks.

“And in a year’s time, it will be yours.”

Her mouth drops open.

“This is my wedding present to you.”

She shuts her mouth, opens it again, then shuts it again, looking shell-shocked.

“So, do I need to change the name to Steele Publishing?”

“Christian, you gave me a watch. I can’t run a business.”

“I ran my own business from the age of twenty-one.”

“But you’re, you. Control freak and whiz-kid extraordinaire. Jeez, Christian, you majored in economics at Harvard before you dropped out. At least you have some idea. I sold paint and cable ties for three years on a part-time basis, for heaven’s sake. I’ve seen so little of the world, and I know next to nothing!”

Well, that’s not true.

“You’re also the most well-read person I know.” I have to pitch this to her. “You love a good book. You couldn’t leave your job while we were on our honeymoon. You read how many manuscripts? Four?”

“Five,” she whispers.

“And you wrote full reports on all of them. You’re a very bright woman, Anastasia. I’m sure you’ll manage.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Crazy for you.” Always.

She snorts, trying not to laugh. “You’ll be a laughingstock. Buying a company for the little woman, who has only had a full-time job for a few months of her adult life.”

I dismiss her concerns with a wave of my hand. “Do you think I give a fuck what people think? Besides, you won’t be on your own.”

“Christian, I—” She stalls, lost for words, and I cherish the moment—it doesn’t happen often. She lays her head in her hands again. When she looks up, she’s trying not to laugh.