Book Christian Grey Novels & Stories

“Christian and I—“ I started and he leaned closer, almost like he was desperate to hear my response. I paused. If he knew the truth, why did he need to ask me? Why did he look so curious? I averted my gaze, my fingers twisting together in a nervous tangle. What if this was a trap? A carefully laid snare designed to catch me in a lie? “Christian…” I started hesitantly, my voice barely above a whisper. Summoning what little courage I had, I lifted my gaze to meet his. “Christian and I have been seeing each other,” I admitted, licking my dry lips. “That’s the truth.” He grunted, unimpressed, and beckoned to one of the men standing behind him. He soon approached with a file in hand. Placing it o

The funeral hall was too bright. Christiana stood near the entrance, dressed in black, her hair pulled back in a way that made her look older than twenty-one. People filed past her in a steady stream, each one offering words that meant nothing. "I'm so sorry for your loss." "They were wonderful people." "If you need anything at all." She nodded at each of them, her face blank, her responses automatic. Thank you. I appreciate it. Yes, they will be missed. The words came out smooth and rehearsed, like lines in a play she had not auditioned for.

Stepping into the scene, I felt every gaze land on me. Alex was up front by the altar, looking sharp in his black suit. As I made my way into the church, heads swiveled in my direction. Alex, at the podium, caught sight of the unintended bloodstain on my dress, and his eyes narrowed. He approached, voice hushed, "Did you get hurt?" "It's not mine." He grasped my hand, the ring a firm reminder in my palm, his smile faint but present. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

he says not even looking at my face. DISRESPECT! "Sir can you tell me the color of the file" I didn't even bother to request him. I told more in a way of command. "Why?" His gaze turned to meet my eyes chocolate brown eyes. I stare into his grey eyes! How the hell does he not have a girlfriend? He is obviously a wealthy, powerful person and it is impossible to not notice how attractive he is. God, probably he has some dark and secret past or something - it is the only explanation.

He stretched his arms and the store manager came back with a box and they exited the store. “I’ll see you tomorrow at church, okay?” Danny said, and they parted their ways. While Danny left the place in his car, Christian walked a few miles and entered a café and, while waiting for the potential client, his eyes fell on the bookshelf. “The Antagonist Of My Life by Scarlett,” Christian read and abruptly stood up to take it from the shelf.

Alex said "Do you know that girl, Nathan?' Mrs. Knight asked him. "Yes. And she is a bad person. A money-minded person. She dated countless people. And her night history is horrible. Christian is a gem. She doesn't deserve him" Nathan said "I'm scared that Christian will agree," Alex said "What? Are you out of your mind?" Nathan asked him "Christian gave his life to this company. The company is his life. He will never let someone take over this company" Alex said when the study room's door opened and an angry Christian came out. His hair was messy and his eyes were red.

"I can't…" Panic swept across Christian's face. For the first time since I'd met him, I saw every one of his defenses fall away. He wasn't the confident CEO, the calculating heir, or the smooth charmer. He was just a man terrified of losing the person he loved most in the world. "I've already called an ambulance," the maid announced, appearing in the doorway. "They're on their way." Christian gave a brief nod, never taking his eyes off his grandfather. "You've been through this before," I whispered—it was a statement, not a question.

the Alpha’s words were slowly drained by my thoughts. Soon he emptied a bottle of hot whiskey on Christian, and one by one, everyone lowered their torches as his body caught fire. Slowly, some people pushed the boat down the river, and I watched him flow away in flames as some people consoled Grandma Lydia. Well… I didn’t need consoling, as I cried to my heart’s content. *** That same night after Christian’s funeral. The house felt different. It was too quiet, too still, like it knew something was missing and didn’t want to move on without him.

“But you survive because of me.” Adrian snarled, shoving her back. She slid with the grace of someone who had trained her entire life for this moment, landing light, balanced, ready. “Do you know why I wear gray?” she asked suddenly, circling him. Adrian’s jaw tightened, blood dripping down his arm. He didn’t answer. “Because it is the color of hunger,” she murmured, voice low, almost intimate. “Never black, never white. Always in between. Always consuming.” Her eyes darkened. “Like my obsession with you.”

I'd gone to his study to surprise him, only to find him bent over the design schematics for our rings. The original "Amor Aeternus" was crossed out. Replaced by that new line of Latin: Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. My sin, my greatest sin. Five years. The guilt had never left him. Her shadow still loomed over everything between us. "Isabella?" the priest prompted gently. I lifted my head and looked out at the crowd. My father, Don Rossi, his eyes filled with expectation. The Moretti council, sitting ramrod straight, waiting for the answer that would end a decades-long war between our two families.