Fifty Shades of Steele // Fifty Shades of Grey fanfiction

Chapter 22

After seeing Christian off to work, Mrs Jones arrives to look after the place. "Morning, Miss Steele." 

"Morning. Would you like any coffee- or tea?" 

"Ana, dear, I'm the one who should be asking you that." She chuckles, making me blush. 

"Oh right. Sorry. Well, I have work to do so I'll be upstairs." 

"Okay." She smiles at me and then bends down to grab something from under the sink. I make my way upstairs to look for a job online. Opening my laptop, a notification pops up in the corner of the screen. You have a recent update in your bank. Eyes widening, I click on the notification in panic. $5,000 recently donated into your account by Anonymous. Please don't say someone hacked my account, I plead to myself whilst picking on a hangnail near. Picking up my phone, I dial Christian's work number. "Christian?" 

"Ana, what's wrong? You seem distressed." 

"Someone has anonymously donated money to my bank account." I sigh, leaning on my right hand as I stare at the screen. The only response I get from him is a dry chuckle. "Christian, this isn't fucking funny." I scoff, annoyed. 

"I placed the money in your account." 

"My account? How did you get my bank details?" I call out to him. 

"It's for you to go shopping." 

"How did you-" The lines cuts off and I let out a frustrated sigh. Brilliant. Closing my laptop, I once again postpone the job search and I grab my shoes and bag and get ready to head out to town. "Mrs Jones, I'm heading out of town for a bit so feel free to occupy yourself with something." I grin. As soon as I press the button to the lift, I feel extremely sick. The feeling of nausea clawed at my throat, desperate to come out of me. I try to force down the bile, but it was too late. Chunks of partially digested food comes spewing out from my coughing and choking mouth. My stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything out of my insides. My face was dripping with bile, sweat, and tears. My knees shake as I become weak. 

"Anastasia!" Mrs Jones calls out. I fall to the ground and let out a sob, terrified. "I'll call Mr Grey."

"D-don't." I call out. Well, at least I try to. Looking down at myself, my jeans are covered in a yellow stain from my vomit. My hands shake as I look at myself in embarrassment. 

"Yes, Sir. She threw up and then collapsed onto the floor afterwards... she's still on the floor. I'll get her cleaned up right away, sir." She hangs up and turns to look at the mess on the floor. Me. "Alright, Anastasia, stay where you are. I'll get you a clean towel." Mrs Jones frowns as I shake. She returns with a damp cloth and cleans my hands, my clothes and my face. "Let me get you upstairs. Mr Grey will be home shortly." 

"Oh no." 

"I'm sorry, Miss Steele, but you seem incredibly ill. Do you know what must of caused this?" She asks as she carefully helps me upstairs. 

"It must of been something I ate last night." I mutter. She tuts slightly as she leads me into the bathroom and turns on the shower for me. 

"Bring your clothes down as soon as you finish showering." She smiles at me. "Call me if you throw up again." Closing the door behind her, I begin to strip from my disgusting, vomit-stenched clothes. I toss all my clothes on the floor and step into the warm shower. The steam instantly envelopes me and I let the warm water drip onto my back. I stare at my feet as I think of everything I ate last night. Maybe it's just severe food poisoning? Or alcohol poisoning. Oh who am I kidding? I'm not a doctor, I just finished studying English. 

I climb into bed after leaving my clothes downstairs. A couple quiet knocks can be heard from the bedroom door just as it opens. "Miss Steele, it's me." Mrs Jones walks in with a glass of water. "You need to drink some water so you can throw up easier." 

"Thank you, I really appreciate it." 

"It's not a problem. Mr Grey just called and informed me that he's just arrived outside." 

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me." She chuckles.

"Sorry." I blush, sipping from my glass. I hear the elevator doors open and footsteps running. 

"Anastasia?" Christian calls from downstairs. He comes upstairs and knocks our bedroom door before opening the door. He drops his briefcase as soon as he sees me, his eyebrows furrowing me. "Are you okay?" 

"Uh, not really." If I was okay then I wouldn't of vomited. Duh. 

"What happened?" 

"I'll leave you two alone." 

"Thank you." I smile warmly at Mrs Jones and then avert my attention back to Christian. "I threw up as soon as I got to the lift. I'm really sorry that you had to get dragged out from work." 

"It's not a problem, you're sick and I should look after you. You know, 'through sickness and in health'." He chuckles. I raise a brow and place my empty glass next to me on my bedside table. 

"Nice wedding vows." I roll my eyes.

"Even when you're sick, you're still sarcastic. Unbelievable." 

"Sorry, Mr Grey." He smirks and shakes his head. 

"What do you think could of made you feel this sick?" 

"Probably something I ate last night."

"At least you've learnt your lesson." 

"Learnt my lesson because I had fun?  You must of been a pain when you had birthday parties." 

"What do you mean?" 

"You obviously don't like having fun." 

"That's not true. Do you not remember where we met?" 

"I mean, yeah." 

"And where was that?"

"In a nightclub." 

"Exactly." He responds, making me scoff. 

"Whatever, now get lost. I need to get my rest." I turn over onto my right side away from him jokingly. 

"Get better soon." Christian says, seriously. He kisses my cheek and walks out of the room, leaving me with a wide grin.