The second I walked into his office, the smell of pine hit my senses.

It somehow almost immediately calmed me down and I took a deep breath in. Savoring the environment.

With my eyes closed and fists clenched around my folder, I finally found myself calming down.

There was no set tactic I used to help me in situations like these, but I could feel my medication I took before we left settling in.

The pills were the answer to filling up many of the empty spaces. The empty spaces of my developing brain throughout my childhood. It was as if it settled in all the lacking divots and creases throughout my skull. Engulfing me in hundreds of warm hugs.

Xanax helped me feel calm. They helped me forget everything I've ever worried about. My Xanax are the only reason I can get through the day.

"Ms. Heart. Please take a seat." His dominating voice interrupted my peace in the distance. I jumped suddenly and followed his orders, not knowing he was seated directly in front of me.

I quickly walked over to his desk area and sat down, I put my head down as well and waited for him to say something. The room was silent, uncomfortably silent. If this were my office, I'd go crazy hearing all the small, random noises. Maybe some background music would help.

After a few small moments, he speaks, "What are you thinking about?" Mr. Grey questioned.

My head popped up and I made eye contact with him, "Nothing, Mr. Grey. I apologize." I feel waves of relaxation flowing through my body, but the way that our eyes locked added a slight funny feeling in my chest.

His expression faltered at the sight of my face.

Slowly, he stood up and made his way around the desk. Footstep by footstep, each one felt like a pound of pressure in my chest.

His tall figure felt like it was taking forever to reach me. Each second added more and more anticipation in my body. It was a confusing feeling, not quite scary, but confusing.

Mr. Grey finally stepped to the right side of my sitting frame, grabbed my chair lightly, and swiveled it until I was facing him.

I gulped lightly.

He grabbed ahold of my chin and craned my head up towards his towering stare.

I was still sitting in the chair, my head tilted all the way up in his grasp. Mr. Grey was standing, one hand cupping my face and the other in his suit pocket.

"Why were you crying, little one?" He analyzes my features, but still holds and emotionless expression.

Confusion spreads across my face. How does he know?

I bite my bottom lip, unable to answer.

Gripping slightly harder on my chin, "I'd appreciate it if you answered me." His powerful voice softly demanded.

Those words send a shock to my core and I slightly pressed my thighs together. I could feel my bottom lip tugging downwards at the pressure of his hold.

"I-" I couldn't find my words. How could I successfully tell him that the stress of coming here has made me lose about 15 years of my life?

Him and I bask in moments of silence, due to the fact that I have nothing to say. I don't want to rile up my emotions again.

How come his touch, and even his stare, are altering the way my medication is affecting my body? Aren't I not supposed to feel these chills?

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head disapprovingly. Releasing his dominating grip on my face he begins to walk back towards his chair, "We're going to need to work on listening. Aren't we, Miss Heart?"

I nodded my head.

"Words, Miss Heart."

"Yes, sir." I fiddled with my fingers rested on the documents on my lap.

He sits down in his chair, "Good girl."

My chest erupts with butterflies and I squeeze my thighs impossibly closer together. Slowly gaining the courage, my eyes trail up back to his. Only to notice him staring at me, intently, with newfound hungry eyes.

He slyly smirks to himself and reaches out his hand to me. I stare at it for a while, not knowing what he wants.

His two middle fingers curl a few times, signaling that he want something from me.

Quickly, my head shoots towards the folder in my lap and realization hits.

I've broken out of my trance once I saw my personal documents slowly falling out of the folder that rested on my lap.

"Folder. Here are the-" I fumble my words while trying to quickly retrieve him what he wants, "The folder." I quietly whisper to myself while messily stuffing the loose papers inside.

"I see you're a messy one, huh?" He chuckles darkly.

I finally gather everything, but frown when it was not as neat as when I arrived.

As I extended my arm to hand him the thick folder, I whisper, "I apologize."

He grabs them and sits back in his chair. Flipping through every document, his eyebrows raise. His green eyes skim.

Knowing he is seeing and judging every aspect of my life, I'm terrified as to what he is going to say.

Mr. Grey looks up at me and we connect our eyes, "Homeschooled, no work experience, and currently seeing a psychiatrist? Tell me about yourself."

Mr. Grey leans back in his chair and tilts his head slightly, waiting for me to speak.

I open my mouth for a few moments before saying anything, trying to ultimately think of where I should start.

"Well..." the tone of my voice is already quieter than I wanted it to be, "My father wanted to focus on prepping me for the business world. He decided it would be in our best interest if I didn't attend public school."

The scary man in front of me placed his right ankle on his left knee.

I fiddled with the hem of my skirt I was currently wearing, "I've worked before, but only in my father's building. And- and the psychiatrist, she just helps-"

I pause for a moment.

"She-" I drag out, "Helps me go into situations like this one now with full confidence." I manage to say in the simplest way possible.

He spins a pen throughout his long fingers, "Who was your homeschool teacher?"

"Miss Aird, my nanny." I smile to myself.

He hums in thought.

Not too much time later, Mr. Grey stands up and walk towards the city-view window placed behind his desk.

"You are not good for me."

I felt my heart drop. I'm not?

If I go home and tell my dad that I didn't secure this important job, I'm sure my future will be ruined forever.

What if he loses all hope in me? What if he contacts my cousins to start training them like he always threatens to do? I didn't grow up with this life for nothing.

Unsure of what to do with myself, I stand up.

With my bottom lip quivering, I walk towards him with very minimal confidence.

He faced the window, and I faced his back.

"I will be good for this position, Sir. I promise you." My voice speaks loudly. Well, louder than it has this whole time.

He turns around and stares at me.

"I've been trained in business and finance for as long as I can remember. I-I know I'm not the best socially, but if you place me behind a computer and give me loads of tasks, I know I can complete them with high efficiency."

He doesn't respond.

That's enough talking for me for the day.

All of the sudden, my confidence disappears and I lower my head again.

Mr. Grey walks towards me, in a predatory manner.

We lock eyes and I notice a deathly stare in them. A small whimper escapes my mouth and I begin to walk backwards.

Mr. Grey continues to walk towards me until my behind hits his desk.

He places both hands on the desk on each side of me, leaning down just inches away from my face.

"Where'd all this confidence come from, little one?" He said huskily, the same dark look still resides in his eyes.

I gulp and lean slightly back on his desk. I feel hot, scared, bothered, and confused with these feelings.

I once again slightly cross my legs, too scared to speak because I know I'd fumble my words.

"I know you'd be excellent with the position, which is why I'll be giving it to you." He trails.

Mr. Grey leans his head towards my ear and whispers, "But, it'll be hard trying to focus when all I can think about is fucking you against every wall and desk in this office."