Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian novel Chapter 252

It’s such a beautiful afternoon. The scents of the Sound, the meadow grass, and flowers hang in the air. My beautiful wife is by my side. It’s heaven. And soon there will be three of us. “When are you going to tell your folks?” I ask.

“Soon. I thought about telling Ray this morning, but Mr. Rodriguez was there.” Ana shrugs.

I nod. I get it, Ana.

Lifting the hood of the R8, I gather up the wicker picnic basket and the tartan blanket that Ana bought from Harrods in London. “Come.” Hand in hand, we stroll into the meadow. When we’re far enough from the house, I release her, and together we spread the blanket on the ground. I settle down beside her, shrug off my jacket, and slip off my shoes and socks. I take a moment to just breathe, taking in a lungful of fresh air. We’re shielded by the long grass, away from the world, truly in our own bubble. As Ana opens the picnic basket to inspect all the goodies that Mrs. Jones has provided, my phone vibrates.

Shit.

It’s Ros.

“…Thank you for answering my question, and glad to hear that Ana is on the mend,” Ros says over the phone.

“You’re welcome.” It’s the second time she’s called and the third call I’ve had since we started our picnic.

“You shouldn’t be so indispensable.”

I laugh. “You flatter me.”

Ana is lying beside me, half listening to my side of the conversation. Her brow puckers at my last remark.

“You should take a couple of days off,” I tell Ros. “After all, you spent most of the weekend traveling back from Taiwan.”

“That’s a great idea. I may take Thursday and Friday, if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure, Ros, go for it.”

“Will do. Thanks, Christian. Good-bye.”

I toss my phone down, and resting my hands on my raised knees, I regard my wife. She’s lying beside me on our blanket, gazing up with a dreamy expression. Reaching over, I pluck another strawberry from what’s left of Mrs. Jones’s excellent picnic and trace it along Ana’s mouth. She parts her lips, and the tip of her tongue toys with the strawberry, then sucks it into her warm, wet mouth.

I feel it in my groin. “Tasty?” I whisper.

“Very.”

“Had enough?”

“Of strawberries, yes.” Her tone is low.

Ana, no one can see us here.

Grey, behave.

I grin. Enough. I change the subject. “Mrs. Jones packs a mighty fine picnic.”

“That she does.”

God, I miss my wife—all of her. I lie down, gently resting my head on her belly, and close my eyes, trying not to think of all the things I’d like to do to her right now. Her fingers caress my hair.

Oh, this is bliss.

My BlackBerry starts buzzing again.

Shit. It’s Welch. What does he want?

I answer, a little grumpy at the interruption. “Welch.”

“Mr. Grey. I have an update. It was Eric Lincoln of Lincoln Timber who paid Hyde’s bail.”

Fuck.

That motherfucking asshole.

I sit up. My senses switch to high alert as my anger takes hold.

“I’d like to place him under watch, unless you have any objection.”

“24/7,” I snarl in agreement.

How dare Lincoln get involved with Hyde?

This is a declaration of war.

“Will do. I don’t know what else he might have planned, or how the two of them are connected. But I’ll find out.”

“Thanks.” He hangs up, and I can barely contain my fury. Gripping my phone, I realize now is the moment for payback. My plans were laid long ago, and as the saying goes, revenge is a dish best served cold. I give Ana a cool smile and call Ros.

“Christian. I thought you were enjoying your day off?”

I kneel up—I’m not calling for chitchat.

“Ros, how much stock do we own in Lincoln Timber?”

“Let me just check.” She’s all business. “We hold sixty-six percent between all the shell companies.”

Excellent.

“So, consolidate the shares into GEH, then fire the board.”

“All of them? Has something happened?”

“Except the CEO.”

“Christian, that doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

She gasps. “There’ll be no company left. What can the CEO do? If you want to liquidate this company, this isn’t the way.”

“I hear you, just do it,” I growl, keeping a lid on my anger.