Matthew Walker is shorter than I expected. Shorter than me - but with a well kept muscular physique. The interview I'd watched with him hadn't really captured him properly. He'd worn glasses then, and his hair was a lot shorter and spikier.

Now he looks less like a geeky Internet entrepreneur and more like the smug Princeton bastard I'd imagined. His eyes are piercing blue, with a hint of grey perhaps, though he is too far away for me to tell for sure. His hair is long - too long -and it's swept across to one side almost haphazardly. He also has a few days worth of growth on his face and he looks tired. A little broken maybe. As I gaze at Charlie I wonder if maybe that's what losing her does to a man. I guess I'd find out in five days.

His eyes narrow on Gideon and I as Charlie comes in behind him and closes the door. She moves past him into the room so that she's close to me, but not too close. Not close enough.

"What the hell's going on, Charlie?" He demands.

She straightens her spine and lifts her head. "Matt, this is Christian Grey," She turns to me, her expression anxious. "Gideon you know."

Walker glares at me, before looking back at his wife. Gideon he ignores entirely. "When you said we had things to talk about," he steps closer to her - as do I. "I thought you meant us."

"How about we talk about your hands wrapped around her throat. How about we start with that?" I say. I want to hurt him. I want to wrap my hands around his throat. He glares at me then, eyes flickering with dark intent.

"I don't think any of this concerns you. This is between me and my wife," he growls.

"See that's where you're wrong Walker," Gideon cuts in. "When you laid your hands on her you made it about all of us. And when you sent us those little homemade gifts you made a bad situation a whole lot worse. Now sit the fuck down and let's work through this. Some of us have places to be." He glances casually at his watch and indicates the chair across from him. Gideon manages to look utterly relaxed yet threatening at the same time. A skill I've always admired in him.

The stretched silence highlights the animosity between Gideon and Charlie's husband. It's almost tangible - a dark heavy thing hanging between them, although to my eye Gideon is hiding it far better. Walker drags his eyes from Gideon to Charlie, before moving towards the chair closest to him and sitting down.

Charlie takes a seat at the dining table, opting not for the chair next to her husband - an action which satisfies something deep inside me, though I don't quite know what. When she's settled, I take a seat next to Gideon on the sofa, and lean forward on my thighs, towards the paperwork.

When I hear a faint human noise a moment later, I look up to find Walker covering his mouth with his hand as he chuckles softly to himself. I notice then that he's still wearing his platinum wedding band. Denial.

"Something amusing?" I ask.

"Kind of yeah," He shakes his head. Serious again. "It's just that I never noticed you right away. You look different with your clothes on and your cock not rammed inside in my wife." He smirks.

I feel my nostrils flare and my fists clench.

"Seriously, Matt?" Charlie says from my left.

Gideon groans and shifts in his chair. "Yeah I'm betting you watched that tape quite a few times didn't you man? Learn anything? How to please your wife, for example?" Gideon states. Walker's eyes cloud with rage and he moves forward slightly in the chair.

"Gideon please," She snaps. "Can we please just say what we have to say and sign what we have to sign and get this over with? I have no desire to sit here drowning in testosterone. I also have things to do."

The room goes silent again as all three of us turn to look at her. She meets my eye and urges me on, biting softly on her bottom lip. The action makes me think of the feel of her mouth, and how it feels wrapped around my cock. Before the image gains any further momentum I close my eyes, and take a deep breath and look back at husband.

With a nod, I fix him with a hard stare. "Okay. Well let's deal with issue number one first: the tape."

Walker sighs and runs his hands over his mouth.

"What the hell were you thinking, Matt? A false rape accusation? Honestly?" Charlie sounds appalled. "It's disgusting,"

He looks at her and to my amazement, he nods. "I know. I agree. I wasn't thinking." He looks at his hands. "I was angry and drunk. I wanted to hurt you. And him." He looks up at Gideon.

"By blackmail? By accusing two innocent men of something they didn't do?" Her voice demands an explanation from him.

"Like I said. I was drunk. Angry. Hurt," he says. "When I found that tape and saw you and him together with my own fucking eyes," He casts a dark look at Gideon. "It had a flammable effect on me let's just say. To know that's what you'd been doing with him for months behind my back."

An unexpected wave of guilt washes over me at his words. Along with a weird sort of empathy. It wasn't in my nature to be underhanded. Or deceitful. I wanted to inform him that Gideon hadn't touched Charlie in 8 years. That I was the one he should be focusing his loathing on. That I'd lost count the number of times I'd been inside his wife in the last 24 hours. That I couldn't stop thinking of her taste, her scent, the feel of her skin under my fingers, the sensation of her body as I slid inside her.

So yes, if I'd been in his shoes and I'd suspected she was with someone else, I'd have been beyond anger. In fact, hadn't I lost it only hours ago at the sight of her on a park bench with another man? I'd never have done what he did but I could almost understand where he was for an instant. Almost.

I say nothing. I just bite my tongue and wait for Gideon's response. To refute what Walker just accused him of. To tell him how way off the mark he was in his assumptions. He does neither. Gideon says absolutely nothing. He just stares hard at Charlie's husband, a dark malignant smile on his face. He looks guilty as hell.

"I've told you a hundred times Matt. There is nothing going on between Gideon and I. There hasn't been anything going on for years. Why couldn't you just have believed that? Believed me? This mess. All of it. For nothing."

"You think I wanted this?" He blurts. "You've been pulling away from me for months. Then that night with him, at the party, I'm not a fucking idiot Charlie. I sensed something between you. Then you say you're leaving me? What the fuck was I supposed to think? Tell me what I missed?" His voice is raw and bare and for the first time I feel like an intruder. This maybe was a conversation they needed to have alone. Then I remember. She tried to have it. Then he fucking strangled her. Bastard. My fists clench again.

She takes her time before speaking. "I told you why," she says quietly. "Because I wasn't happy. Because you're not what I want anymore."

"And was I ever what you wanted Charlie?" He asks. He looks sad then. Pitiful. I almost feel sorry for him.

When I look at her she's staring at him with a strange, distant look on her face. She looks guilty maybe. "I don't want to talk about this. Not here. Not now," she says finally, looking down at her hands.

"Which is why we should be alone. Talking." He moves forward towards her. "Please, baby..."

"If you think I'm leaving you alone with her for even a second then you're fucking delusional," I state. He turns to look at me, glare even, suspicious angry eyes burning into mine for a long moment before he slides back down into his chair.

"It doesn't matter any more anyway," Charlie says quietly. "It's done now. There's nothing to talk about any more."

"So then why am I here?" he holds his hands out. "Clearly it's not the reason I thought. If someone could fill me in that would be really fucking great." He glances down at the paperwork on the table then back up at me.

"Again. Let's start with the tape," I say. "How many copies did you make?"

He smiles then, dark and smug. "Please. None. It wasn't that good."

I smile a dark smile of my own. "Stills then. How many more are there scattered around New York? Anyone else you sent a little brown package to we should know about? The National Enquirer? The Speaker of the House?"

He sighs. "Yes, actually I had them made into invitations to my divorce party and sent them to all my friends."

"Ok, so that would be just your mother and your secretary then," Gideon interjects. I resist the urge to smile.

As Charlie sighs, Walker growls silently at Gideon. Fuck they really did hate each other. Of course, I could understand Gideon's feelings about the guy. He was a prick, with zero redeemable qualities that I could detect.

"The ones you all got are the only stills I had made. I had no intention of sending them anywhere." He releases a breath and sits back.

"You threatened to send them to my father Matt, the press?" Charlie's eyes narrow.

He turns to face her. "I would never have done that baby. Come on, you know that. You know me. I say things I don't mean all the time. You know how I can be," He stops talking and looks down at his hands again.

"What about the marks on her neck. Did you mean them?" I cut in.

I hate the fact that he just called her 'baby' for the second time. Even more, I hate the fact that when she looks at him her eyes are still tender. Even now. There are echoes of the way she looks at me in the way she just looked at him. I don't like it. I fucking hate it. I hate him.

"I'm ashamed of that," he says, shaking his head. "I've regretted it every day since it happened." He looks at her in abject apology.

"I think you're a lying prick," Gideon says. "See I think you saw your wife and your chance at half her inheritance slipping through your fingers. And without her your company is done. Dead. I think we all know that — especially you," He nods. "You needed her way more than she needed you, Walker. And she didn't want you any more." Gideon's voice is calm and even. It makes it more cutting.

"She is still here," Charlie states.

"Because it's you she wants?" Walker growls at Gideon, completely ignoring her comment. "That what you're saying Cross?"

Gideon's eyes fill with a dark kind of mirth. "You really are fucking blind aren't you? And deaf apparently." Gideon shakes his head.

Walker rolls his eyes. "Why the hell am I here Charlie?" he asks again, turning back to her.

"Because I needed to make sure that you had no intention of hurting Christian, Gideon or my father with that tape."

"Don't worry sweetheart, I have no intention of notifying the masses that Senator Van der Straeten's daughter; my beautiful, Ivy League-educated wife is a three-way loving, bondage inclined whore."

I'm up before he's even finished speaking. I have no idea how I get from the sofa to suddenly towering over him on the chair. I'm simply in one position one moment and in another the next. I press my forearm hard against his windpipe with the singular intention of crushing it to a pulp.

"Watch your fucking mouth! You're not good enough to worship at her feet you piece of shit," I growl. Walker grapples with my arm, trying to relieve the pressure on his airway as his face begins to change colour. Expensive golden tan to white, then red, and then purple.

As I'm pulled off from behind, I swear I see the outline of a smirk across his slightly too full mouth. Bastard. Charlie is standing, hand at her mouth in horror as Gideon manoeuvres me away from Matthew Walker. My hands are trembling with rage as he rights his jacket and scrapes his hand through his long hair.

"Looks like I was pointing the finger at the wrong billionaire cock," Walker says looking ruffled, yet somehow still fucking smug.

Charlie hardens her stare on him. Cold and narrow, as though she's seeing him for the very first time. When she turns to me her gaze softens. Her mouth softens, and her entire body seems to soften. A strange thing happens to me in that moment - I relax, instantly. As her green eyes hold onto mine, the tremble of my fists lessens, and the tornado of rage whipping beneath my skin calms. Gently, I shrug off Gideon's grip on my shoulders and move back towards my seat on the sofa.

"Let's finish this," I state calmly. When I'm sitting back down I slide the NDA across the table to Walker. "This confirms what you just said. That there are no copies and that the original tape will be returned to Charlie's possession. It also confirms that if you break any of the clauses of the agreement we make here today you're going to regret it." I force a smile.

He meets my eye. "You think I'm going to be blackmailed into signing that? What the fuck do any of you have on me?" He glances at Charlie before moving to stand.

"You'll do it because if you don't, in approximately seventy-two hours your company is going to fold. By all accounts it should have folded long ago, but it seems you've been overestimating profits for quite some time now. Something I'm certain is a felony in every state."

Walker pales, visibly. I see a faint sheen of sweat break out across his forehead before my eyes. "You don't know anything about my company." His voice is uncertain. His eyes are too.

"I'd stop making presumptions Walker," Gideon says. "I think we all know you're fucking shit at them."

"I know a lot about your company actually," I go on. "Far more than your shareholders at least, more than the banks who you owe and who you've been borrowing from based on lies. Though not for long - if you don't sit the fuck down." I glare up at him. Very slowly he sits back down.

"Please listen to him Matt," Charlie urges softly.

Walker looks at Charlie then, a look of disbelief and betrayal swimming across his eyes. When he turns to me his eyes are hard as stone. "I'm listening."

Speaking in my professional, businesslike tone, I relate to Matthew Walker everything I had my people dig up about his company: the truth about Upic Global, the truth he'd managed to keep hidden from everyone else, including his wife. He and his current CFO had managed to bury that truth pretty deep. His shareholders knew nothing, his board knew nothing, and his creditors knew nothing. As I talk, he remains utterly silent. He watches me through his narrowed blue stare not interjecting once. I can see the cogs behind his eyes going, working, thinking. He was undoubtedly smart. And his smart, shrewd eyes tell me everything I need to know about him. He knew that everything I was saying was the truth. And he hated me for it.

Charles listens too, a grave look on her face as she hears for the first time just how much trouble her husband was really in, how much he'd kept from her, how much he needed her money.

When I'm finished, I slide the NDA toward him, along with the conditional agreement of a $16.4 million investment by Gideon and I. It's no coincidence that it's exactly half the amount of Charlie's inheritance. I'd carefully rounded it up to ensure that the figure meant something to him. Charlie's divorce papers are sitting close to me, still inside the envelope.

"You're going to invest in my company?" He says after a long silence, staring at me warily. He hasn't read the agreement.

"Yes, Gideon and I will inject some much-needed capital to Upic Global. On the condition that you appoint a CFO of our choosing for a period of no less than 18 months. I have a candidate in mind. You stay on as CEO but you will have no input in the financial direction of the company until our investment is returned to us, in full and with interest. Though it needs a lot of work and steering from a capable person, the investment will stabilise Upic immediately, and it will boost your share price over night. Your company can be saved. But you need to act now, trust me."

"Trust you?" he smirks. He smirks a lot I've noticed. "I have a lot of feelings toward you right now, Grey. Trust isn't top of that list I can assure you."

"We'll I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice," I say.

Another smirk. "Oh, there's always a choice," he says.

"Matt you're in trouble. The company is in trouble. The company you love. The company you built. Let Christian and Gideon help you." Charlie says softly. The softness of her tone cuts through the cold atmosphere in the room.

He looks at her. "I don't want their help. I don't need it."

"Your balance sheet begs to differ," I say in a measured tone. "Sign the papers and tomorrow your company moves back into profit. It's not just about the money. It's the connection to Cross & Grey. Those names mean something. You know that's true."

"Do they?" He nods, sarcasm dripping from his tone. Then, for the first time, he leans forward and glances over the paperwork. The investment agreement first and then the NDA. "I'd rather my lawyer looked this over first. Who knows what the hell I'm signing."

"Didn't you major in Law?" Gideon states. "Before your start up happened? It's a straightforward agreement to give you sixteen million dollars for a minimal stake in your company. I could have my housekeeper look it over if you like. It's not complex."

"I'd hardly call twenty-eight percent minimal." He states without looking up.

"100% isn't worth a dime as it stands at this moment," I point out.

Walker sighs but doesn't disagree. "What do you get out of this? You'd really do all of this so they don't run an 8-year old sex tape on E-news?" He smirks. My nostrils flare and I contemplate telling him to forget the entire thing. I don't want to give this bastard a cent. Let alone nine million of my hard earned fucking cash.

"Not quite." I say. Without taking my eyes off him, I slide forward the brown envelope containing Charlie's petition for divorce. From the corner of my eye, I see her shift on her chair, twisting slightly and knotting her hands together. Walker looks confused as he lifts the envelope and takes out the contents.

His eyes narrow on me, dark fury turning them from a grey blue to a navy blue. Slowly he turns his head to Charlie.

"Sixteen and a half million really all you're worth, baby?" He asks. "I think you could have gotten me more. You went down on them right?"

I move forward again, but Gideon is faster and clamps his hand on my arm, halting me.

"Just sign them Matthew. Please." She pleads. She looks sad again. Her whole body appears to be made of glass, as though it could shatter if it's grazed even slightly. Yet still I want to go to her, hold her. I hate that she's here. What the fuck was I thinking doing this with her here? I wanted to save her from this. Not wave in front of her face how much of a loser bastard her husband was. When she speaks again her voice is soft and gentle. "Our marriage is over. Has been over for a long time. Let's not make it any harder. This saves your company, that's what you want right? That's what you've been trying to do for months."

"But it costs me you?" he almost shouts.

"No," she shakes her head. "I was already gone, Matt. I was gone long before this."

His body seems to deflate at her words. As he continues to gaze at her, his eyes slowly begin to soften. He stares at her a long time, long after she looks away from him.

Finally, he lets out a deep sigh before leaning forward to lift my sterling silver pen, twisting the tip out with a slow precise movement. He signs the NDA first, looking over the three-page document carefully, nodding his head only once before putting his somewhat artistic scrawl on the last page, above which he prints his full name. Matthew Ellis Walker. Next he flips to the back of the thicker sheaf of divorce papers, glancing at Charlie as he does.

"I assume these are the same ones? You haven't made any changes to them in the last few days? I still walk away with the house in Malibu, the cars and everything in my name?" He asks her in the softest tone I've heard him use since he walked in the door.

She nods. "Exactly the same. Everything you came with is yours. Everything I came with is mine. But I'm happy to return the 10% ownership I have in Upic too," she says quietly. He smiles at her sadly and nods before marking his name below her already present signature.

Lastly, he slides forward the investment agreement. He takes longer over this than the others. Glancing over every page very carefully, nodding approvingly every now and then. When he seems satisfied he returns to the front page and looks at me, and then Gideon.

"Everything looks in order," He nods.

Then, without taking his eyes off me, he lifts the agreement and tears it in half. Then tears it again dumping the scraps back on the table. Charlie gasps quietly.

"But here's the thing. I don't need your money or your charity or your fucking names. This is my company and I'll run it my way. Like Charlie said, I built it. In a shared dorm room at Princeton when I was eighteen years old. It's mine. If it dies, it dies with me. At least I didn't grovel at the feet of two men who thought they could buy, threaten, scare me, or out do me."

"Matt please, don't be insane. Take the investment. You need it. You could go to prison. The company needs it. You'll lose everything without it." Charlie says almost desperately.

He stands then and looks down at her. "Their money? No, I don't need it. There was only one thing I needed Charlie. Only one thing I had that I have ever been terrified of losing," he says. "And it sounds like I lost that a long time ago. Or you know, I think maybe I never actually had it to begin with." He leaves the statement hanging in the air as he turns and strides from the room.

All three of us gaze after him before I turn to Charlie. She's staring after him with the sort of look that makes me feel jealousy and rage and sympathy all at once.

"Well, that is NOT the way I expected that to go," Gideon says quietly after a long silence.

"I need to go talk to him, reason with him." She stands and starts for the door.

"Charlie, no. Stop." I stand and move in front of her. "I don't want you alone with him. He's angry and hurt and I don't trust him. Let me try and talk to him," I nod reassuringly.

"Okay..." she mutters looking dazed. I give Gideon a look before going after the stupid prideful bastard.

He's standing at the end of the hall watching the elevator counter as I approach.

"Walker," I say, and he turns around. "You're making a mistake. A huge one."

"That so?" He smiles. "Well, if I wanted your business advice or input I'd have signed those papers."

"Don't let pride come before your fall. We can work together. Charlie doesn't want to see you lose everything."

His eyes turn cold then. "And you'd know all about what my wife wants wouldn't you Grey?" he says darkly.

"You wont be able to call her that for much longer." I correct.

"Yeah well, here's a bit of advice from me: Be careful what you wish for. Good luck striving to be what she wants. Hell knows I tried for years. And failed, for years, it seems. I loved her with everything that I had and it wasn't enough," He shakes his head. "I don't think anyone will be enough for her." He sounds defeated. He looks defeated.

"Maybe you just weren't enough for her?" I offer, cruelly. Just then the doors open and the elevator attendant smiles politely at us.

"No. I wasn't," he says. "But you better hope you are, Grey. Because losing her isn't something I'd wish on my worst enemy. And at this moment, I think that might actually be you," he says as he steps into the elevator.

I'm frozen to the spot a moment after the doors close and it starts to descend before I force my feet to move back to the suite.

As I enter she looks up at me hopefully, she's sitting in Matthew's chair, Gideon next to her, hand on her shoulder. I shake my head softly, which makes her lower her head again. In the continued silence of the room, the only thing I can hear are Walker's words hanging over me, heavy and portentous. Losing her isn't something I'd wish on my worst enemy.

"Okay, well I now have an extra five million bucks I never had this morning that I need to go spend." Gideon says standing. I roll my eyes at him and he shrugs before turning to gaze down at Charlie. "You okay sweetheart?" He asks.

"I will be." She smiles and stands to wrap her arms around him. This time there are no thoughts of jealousy or lingering resentment about seeing them together. My mind is too full of other thoughts to even contemplate that one. Gideon shakes my hand with a promise to keep in touch, before exiting the suite, leaving Charlie and I alone.

She stares at me, looking fragile and a little lost, like she did in the Gallery when I first saw her again. I want to go to her, but something feels different now. She looks different. The way she's looking at me is different. I'm about to ask her what it is when she walks toward me and stops. She peers up at me through gorgeous glittering green eyes tinged with sadness.

"Hold me. I honestly don't know how I feel right now. Or how I expected I would feel right now but I just... I just need you to hold me Christian, please." She pleads.

Without another thought, I wrap my arms around her and pull her tight to my chest. She's warm and soft, but I can feel the tension in her body as I hold her. She turns her head and reaches for my mouth with hers, kissing me softly, moaning as she strokes her tongue against mine. Soon, I feel her soften in my arms and I slide my hands up, over her breasts to her throat, desperate to feel the touch of her skin under my fingers. Our kiss deepens and I feel that soft, familiar pounding between my legs start up once more before suddenly, she breaks away from my mouth. She steps out of my hold, looking confused. Angry maybe.

"What Charlie?" I ask her.

"Why do I feel guilty?" She asks me. "Why do I feel like I've done something wrong?"

"You haven't done anything wrong. It's a difficult situation. I understand th-."

"How can you say that? That you understand? How can you possibly understand Christian?" Her voice is hard, and cold.

I take a deep breath. "Okay. I don't understand. Tell me. Tell me how you feel. Why do you feel guilty?"

She smiles softly. "Always so considered and in control. Another impressive trait."

"Thank you," I say but I don't mean it. I feel her slipping away from me. I had not prepared for this. Not this soon.

"You were going to hurt him. That wasn't very controlled of you."

"I was in control. I was angry. I wanted to hurt him."

"Because of what he said?"

"Yes. And for what he did to you."

"Because he lost his temper? Because he got angry?" she says pointedly.

I narrow my eyes. "Are you defending him?"

"No. I don't know." She admits. "You know what, I think I should go. Clear my head," She nods. "My head isn't making sense right now and I have to go think somewhere else." She looks around and lifts her purse from the floor and starts toward the door.

I feel utterly useless. Scared to say the wrong thing, scared to say nothing. My mind is in a quiet sort of panic.

She stops before she reaches the door and turns around. "He was right you know. What he said before. He never had me. Not really. I think that's what I feel most guilty about." She nods, sounding decisive. "That I made him believe for so long that we could have been happy. That I wasted so much of his time."

"Despite that, I don't think he feels that way. I don't think he feels that being with you was a waste of time."

"How do you know?"

"Because I've been with you. I know what being with you feels like, Charlie. It's not time wasted."

She smiles again. It's sad again. "Well, that's because you had me. Whenever I was with you I was with you. Whenever I was with him, I was with you. You always had me Christian." And with that she turns and walks out of the room.

I stare after her feeling like I've just been run over by a truck.