Page 4 of Ryker

“Sorry I had to double book the two of you,” Moira says sheepishly. “I’m leaving for a cruise in the morning, and this was the only way I could see you both.”

Time is money, I can appreciate that. Except why do I feel like I’m about to get screwed somehow?

I want to expand. Invest. I’ve got the money, and this place is what I want. I can’t let Brisbane Realty or even Clyde-Smith Properties get their claws in it first. They already own half the city. Why the fuck do they want this building? It’s a shithole.

And it’s going to be my shithole before I leave here tonight. I don’t care what it takes.

“I’ll keep this short and sweet,” I say. “I’m ready to make my offer.”

Moira’s eyes round with surprise. “But, Mr. Hudson, don’t you want to see inside first?”

“Yes, Mr. Hudson.” Tara flashes me her pearly whites. “Let’s take a tour, then we can play.”

Play? Play? This isn’t a game to me, but if Miss Reed wants to make it one, I have no problem giving her what she wants.

And I’m going to fucking win.

Chapter 2

Tara

So, this is the elusive Ryker Hudson. I’ve never considered myself a lucky woman, but tonight gives me hope.

“I’ll keep this short and sweet,” Ryker says, his chiseled jaw clenching as he obviously works to keep his composure. “I’m ready to make my offer.”

Moira, bless her soul, gawks at him. “But, Mr. Hudson, don’t you want to see inside first?”

I jump in because I’m vicious enough to fuck with my prey before devouring it. “Yes, Mr. Hudson. Let’s take a tour, then we can play.”

He glowers at me like I’m the one playing with fire here. Little does he know, I’m more than willing to get burned by him. I’ve been told he was untouchable.

Unfuckable.

Tall, tatted, and intense—he’s not what I’ve imagined since joining the Monarch. He’s even better.

This man looks like he could eat a woman alive, and she’d thank him for the pleasure.

But if he thinks he can charm his way into a deal with Moira while I’m here, he’s about to get a lesson in humility.

I need to land this deal if I want to keep my job. It’s not officially on the market yet, and I only found out this afternoon that it was going on the roster. I thought I’d have this deal in the bag with no issue tonight, but with Ryker Hudson willing to make an offer on the spot, I’ll admit I’m confused. What could he possibly want with this place?

My family’s company already owns most of the adjacent land and has big plans for this area. Brisbane businesses will quickly choke out anything he builds here.

So much for this being a quick, simple, cheap deal. My stepfather called me this afternoon, saying a little bird told him this building was going up for sale and that I better land it, or else.

My family and I don’t get along. At all. I’m worried I’ll get fired, which I won’t let happen. When I leave Brisbane, it’ll be my choice. Until then, I’ll play nice. This deal seemed like a perfect way to ensure my job security—an easy win handed to me by my stepfather—but now that I’m here, I’m second guessing his intentions.

Maybe he’s tricked me. Maybe he’s testing me.

Maybe he’s fucking me over.

This place is a shithole.

“After you,” Mr. Hudson says, holding the door for us.

My Chanel dress is tight and short, making it difficult to climb the steps, and it’s clear the elevator is out of commission and probably has been for decades.

“It has good bones,” Moira says cheerfully, heading for the stairwell.

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