The Ritual: Chapter 30

I WALK INTO the office in downtown Dallas with my lawyer behind me and look around the abandoned space. No one is here this late. It’s after midnight. This is an off-the-books meeting, just like when I was here last time.

Making our way down the long hallway, I hear laughter coming from the back office. Pushing the door open, I step inside to find my father and another man I have come to know well.

“Ryat.” He stands. “Glad you can join us …” He trails off as he sees the man enter behind me.

“Garrett,” my father states, acknowledging our lawyer also standing.

“Mr. Archer.” He nods, holding his briefcase in his hand.

I fall down into a high-back chair next to my father. “I’m the one who called this meeting.” It’s time to iron some shit out. Make sure people understand what I want and that I’m going to get it.

Phil sits back in his chair and sighs.

My father arches a brow at me. “Why are we here, Ryat?” Then he looks at our family attorney that we’ve had since before I was born.

I had already made up my mind after Matt fucked me over while we were in jail. But Blake’s mother’s stunt solidified my thoughts on what needed to be done.

“I’m guessing it’s because of my wife. She’s had plenty to say about you today.” Phil Anderson relaxes in his seat. “Said you put your hands on her—choked her and threw her out of the apartment.”

“I did. After she slapped your daughter.”

His jaw sharpens, slapping his hand on the desk. “She didn’t mention that part.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I grunt. That bitch will never touch Blake again. “I’m here to make an offer,” I say, getting to business, raising my hand to Garrett.

Silence falls over the room. The last time I was in New York, my father asked me how much I’d pay to beat out Matt. I never gave him a definitive answer because I wasn’t quite sure. Now I am.

Garrett places the briefcase on Phil’s desk and opens it up, pulling out a set of papers.

Mr. Anderson puts his glasses on and reads over it. “I don’t understand—”

“Five hundred thousand.” I interrupt him, so he doesn’t have to search for it.

He clears his throat, pulling his glasses off, and looking at me. “The Winstons …”

“Fuck the Winstons,” I snap. There is no signed contract that states Blake has to marry Matt. I know, I did my homework to make sure. “I want her.” He already handed her to me once, ordering I make her my chosen one. I didn’t think this would be difficult, but I came prepared just in case.

He tilts his head to the side. “For how long exactly?”

“Garrett,” I order, and he pulls out another set of papers and lays them on the man’s desk.

Placing his glasses back on his face, Mr. Anderson picks them up and starts reading them over as well.

“Marriage,” I say simply.

My father doesn’t interject, which means he’s given this some thought and isn’t going to fight me on this. But I don’t think he understands what this means. It’s not a temporary fix. I will marry Blake, and she will be my wife—forever. I will not be marrying Cindy

Phil looks up at me through his dark lashes. “And the agreement with …”

“Did you sign an agreement with the Winston’s?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Of course not.” He snorts. “That was my wife’s doing.”

Exactly. “It’s just a verbal agreement.” I shrug. “Not like he can sue you over it. And if it was that important to you, you wouldn’t have forced my hand to pick her as my chosen in the first place.”

He looks away from me and stares down at a picture of Blakely that sits on his desk. Picking it up, he takes in a deep breath.

I sit up straighter, placing my elbows on my knees. “The Winstons’ empire is crumbling. Kimberly—Matt’s mother—went to your wife trying to strike a deal.” But none of us know what the deal was exactly. “They came to the Andersons hoping to forge your legacy with theirs. To save it. Not the other way around.” Matt’s father wants to fly on the back of Blakely’s family. Marrying her, he gets to help run this business. One day her father will retire, and Matt will take over a hundred percent, making sure to keep the Winstons a part of the one percent. “I don’t want your company,” I add. “Whatever you decide to leave her when you’re dead is hers. I just want Blakely.” I’m not sure what she would do with her father’s company. She’s an only child, so I’m guessing she’d sell it. As far as I know, she’s never worked for him before.

“A prenup?” he asks, wanting to make sure that’s all in writing.

I laugh. “There will be no prenup.” That implies our marriage is going to fail and that’s just not going to happen. “But I do have a contract …” I snap my fingers at Garrett, and he removes it from his briefcase as well. “These papers state that.” I also made sure to leave out the part where she can fuck whoever she wants like I told my father to add to mine with Cindy. Blakely will only ever fuck and suck my cock.

“It took her a long time to accept her marriage to Matt. How would you convince her to marry you?” her father asks.

“She’ll accept it. I have no doubt.” I stand, ready to get this over with. Blakely has no clue that I had to make a quick trip to Texas. I had to fly to New York today to meet with Garrett to get everything in order and the papers drawn up, then we had to fly here for this meeting. I wanted to come to her father, not the other way around.

I had checked the cameras in her apartment on the way here, and she was passed out in her bed. “I’ve already had everything drawn up, as you can see.” Garrett removes a pen from his suit jacket. “All you have to do is sign. If you agree, of course. If not, we can discuss whatever you have questions about.” I’m straightforward in the contracts with what I want and how I want it—just her. “Once you sign them, I’ll wire the money to your account.”

He nods, accepting the fate of his only daughter. She will be my wife. I’ll fuck over anyone in my way. “How far out will this wedding be?”

“As soon as possible,” I answer honestly.

“But you’re both in college …”

“Why is that a problem?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. Lots of people get married before and during college. She doesn’t need to attend Barrington after I graduate this year. She doesn’t need the degree, and she sure as shit won’t be working. I will be the sole provider for our family. Blakely will depend on me for everything, and I will give the woman whatever the fuck she wants.

“It just seems quick.” He shrugs.

“Well, I’m sure if your wife had it her way, Blakely would already be married off to Matt,” I growl.

He sighs heavily as if he believes that as well. Mr. Anderson starts to read over the contracts once again as my father speaks up. “If this is what you want …”

“It is,” I say firmly.

Her father stands and adjusts his suit jacket. “Do you love her?” he asks.

I’ve thought about this a million times since I found myself in a jail cell left with just my thoughts. And every time, I came up with the same answer.

No!

They say love is patient and kind. I’m not either one of those things when it comes to Blakely. I’m controlling, possessive, and madly jealous. Which can only mean one thing—I’m obsessed with her! To the point I want to hide her from the world. I don’t want another man looking at her, let alone talking to her. Matt helped me understand that.

So, instead of lying to my future father-in-law, I ask, “Did you love Valerie when you married her?”

He places his hands on his hips and lets out a sigh. I know he had an arranged marriage. Blakely doesn’t know that, but I do. “I learned to love her over time,” he finally answers.

Stepping up to his desk, I place my palms flat on it and lean over. “I promise you, Mr. Anderson, Blakely will be in good hands. I don’t need to love her to promise that I’ll protect her. And that’s more than Matt would do.”

He nods to himself a few times. “You’re right. But …” He pauses. “I don’t want the money. I’ll sign everything. She’ll be yours. But I won’t take a cent from you for her. If she chooses to marry you, then she’s yours.”

I smile. Oh, she’ll choose me all right. “Mighty noble of you.”

“I won’t be like Valerie.” He shakes his head. Reaching out his right hand to me, he adds, “Welcome to the family, son.”

BLAKELY

I’M STANDING IN my bathroom, lining my lips, when I see the door open and Ryat enter. I say nothing to him and look back at myself in the mirror. I’m running late as it is. I slept through my alarms. My body was so exhausted that I actually managed to sleep through my anger for him.

I was going to skip my shower but realized I needed to wash my hair, so that put me an extra twenty minutes behind schedule.

He comes up behind me, his eyes dropping to the towel wrapped around my body. Reaching out, he yanks it off me.

“I don’t have time,” I inform him, pulling away. “I’m late.”

“So?” He arches a brow, smacking my ass and making me jump.

“So, I can’t miss classes!” My mom is already pissed that I’m not screwing Matt. She’ll have a cow if she found out I’m skipping classes because of Ryat.

“Fuck Barrington.” He grips my hips and pulls them from the counter.

“Ryat …” He reaches up and grabs a handful of my hair, making me hiss in a breath.

His eyes meet mine in the mirror, and his voice drops to a deep growl. “Bend over and spread your fucking legs, Blake.”

My heart starts to race, my body temperature rising. I want to tell him to go to hell. Or back to whoever he spent the night with. But the way his emerald eyes are glowing, I don’t. Maybe I’m overthinking things. Maybe he wasn’t with someone else last night. If he was, why would he still want me? It’s not like he only jumps on me when Matt is around. We actually never see him.

“Blake,” he warns, pulling me out of my own thoughts.

He lets up on my hair, and I bend over the counter, spreading my legs wide just like he ordered me to do. The cold surface of the counter makes me shiver as he runs his hand between my legs.

When he thrusts a finger in me, I rise to my tiptoes, whimpering. Then he pulls it out, and I hear him undoing his belt, followed by his zipper. His way of inspection, letting him know I’m wet enough. Then the head of his dick is pushing its way into me.

I’m panting. My palms are on the countertop next to my head while my hips are shoved into the side.

He doesn’t waste a second. The sound of my heavy breathing fills the room while he fucks me. I blow my hair out of my face the best I can, knowing I’ll have to redo my makeup when he grips my hair and yanks me to stand.

I cry out, staring at him in the mirror as he lowers his lips to my ear, his eyes on mine. “Marry me.”

I want to laugh, but his cock is hitting just the right spot, so instead, I just stare at him with heavy eyes while breathing ragged.

He runs his nose along my neck and bites into my collarbone while his free hand runs up my body, scorching my skin. He massages my breast and then slides his hand over my neck. I swallow nervously. Thoughts of what I found while searching breath play enters my mind. I lick my lips, wondering what it’d be like for him to take it away again.

As if he can read my mind, his hand then comes up, and he places it over my mouth. I whimper, my pussy tightening around him. I suck in a deep breath through my nose, wishing he would take that away from me too.

Why? Why do I want to be treated like nothing? I wish I could explain how much my body craves to be dominated. How much my mind dreams about it.

“Marry me, Blake,” he says again and then pinches off my nose, taking it away as well.

My eyes find his again in the mirror while my ears pop and my body convulses. His hand suctions to my face as I try to suck in a breath through my mouth.

He picks up his pace, slamming the front of my body into the counter, knowing it’ll bruise. My knees bang against the cabinets.

My hands come up to grip his arm, but he doesn’t budge. My lungs begin to burn, my eyes water. He continues to fuck me, his eyes on mine in the mirror while I begin to go into panic mode, but my body reacts as that sensation builds.

I try to pry his hand from my face, but he lets go of my hair with his free hand and slides his arm between the crook of my arms and my back, pinning them in place, and whispers, “You can breathe after you come for me.”

My heart races, and tears fall from my eyes, but a wave is coming. It’s going to pull me down so deep I won’t be able to break the surface.

The room is spinning, and my eyes fall shut just as the dam breaks and that wave takes me under. Just like I knew it would.