“He won’t sell,” she said, closing the door. “Not to you. Not to anyone. This company is his… penance.”

A knock. Bella entered without waiting.

She didn’t understand. Not yet. But she would.

The air between the three of them tightened. Edward moved then—not walked, but relocated , appearing between Christian and Bella with a soft rush of displaced air.

“Bella, don’t,” Edward murmured, so low Christian almost missed it.

“You’re not a businessman,” Christian whispered. “You’re an apex predator playing CFO.”

The Cullen mansion materialized through the cedars like a marble mausoleum—all cold columns and black windows. As Christian strode up the gravel drive, the front door opened before he could knock.

For the first time in years, Christian Grey laughed—a dry, wounded sound. “Quaint. I’ve been called many things. Never that.”