The Ritual

“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.”