Fifty Shades of Him (h.s. au)

I

My fingers button the white collared tank top onto my torso, my hands pulling a black pencil skirt up my legs directly after. Pulling a sweater onto my arms, I brush the tangles out of my hair and I place it into a ponytail, nervous about my upcoming events. To say I'm pressured is an understatement.

No reporters are ever allowed to speak to the one called 'Erebus'. He's one of the richest men in America and he doesn't talk to anyone. No one knows what he looks like except for his closest assistants and his real name is unknown to the world.

But somehow, the publishing company I work for has been allowed one interview with Erebus. And the person doing the interview is me.

The massive amount of interest I have will surely overtake all senses and I won't be able to form sentences out of pure intriguing feelings. Who wouldn't be intrigued by a man who goes by the name of a god of darkness?

After placing my shoes upon my feet, I walk to my front door and walk onto the bustling streets of New York. I walk to 5th and enter the fifty story building called H Publishing. I've always been curious as to what the 'H' stands for, my curiosity always getting the best of me.

I moved to New York after a falling out with my family, my father abusive and mean to everyone. My ex was always my safe haven and when we took a step farther in our relationship, he started to blame everything on me. He decided that since I gave myself to him, placing every ounce of trust into him, he could manipulate me and treat me like I'm useless. So I moved far away and came to New York to fulfill my dream of writing.

"Reagan Albright," I tell the receptionist, her red hair set in a bun on the top of her head. She clearly has money for she's judging my appearance. I'm not the richest person and I prefer comfortable clothing.

"Yes, and you have an appointment with whom?" she asks, my hand gripping my notebook and pen more.

"Erebus," I whisper, her fingers typing something into the computer. She presses a button on the phone and receives a message moments later, my eyes meeting her blue ones.

"He will see you now."

I nod and she stands, leading me to the elevator. She places a key into the hole when we enter and a button appears through little metal flaps that open with the key. She presses the button and steps out, the doors closing as I ride the elevator alone.

This is the most nervous I've ever been in my entire life. I'm extremely shy since my past break up and family falling out. My eyes close and I take a deep breath, trying to relax before I encounter the most intimidating man in America.

As I count down the number of floors between here and the top, I feel my heart beating rapidly. There hasn't been a time I've worried about what people thought of me, but this is a man known by few people. I'm about to meet someone no one knows by name.

The elevator door opens and I'm meet by an office with windows for walls. It's completely open and I feel inferior to the space.

"Have a seat," I hear a British accent speak. So one of the richest men in America is British? I walk to the chair and I sit, seeing a dark figure in the corner of the room, looking out the window. He is leaning against the window sill, his long fingers gripping the edges.

"Do you have any questions or are we going to be here all day in silence?" he asks, my intimidation growing. I finally grow the strength to ask a question.

"How long did it take you to establish the enterprise of H Publishing?" I ask, his incredibly long stature standing upright.

"Six years. I began when I was twenty when I dropped out of college and I took every business and financial opportunity, turning it into a billion dollar industry," he states, my fingers writing key elements.