staking his claim

Ryder's POV:

"What the actual hell, Ryder? Why would you do that?" Ashley's voice was laced with venom, her eyes blazing with fury.

I shrugged, still trying to process my own motivations. Seeing her laughing with Capi's son had ignited a spark of possessiveness within me. I wanted to rip his eyes out of their sockets, claim her as mine, and never let her go.

"I wanted to stake my claim," I said, my voice low and husky. I reached out to touch her lips, soft and inviting beneath my fingers. Her red lips were a temptation, making me want to devour her right there and then.

Ashley pushed my hand away, her eyes flashing with anger. "Don't touch me. I'm not yours."

I raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across my face. "Oh, but you are now."

Her response was a succinct "Fuck off." I chuckled, my eyes locked on hers. "So many dirty words coming out of that sweet mouth, huh, baby?"

Ashley's glare could have frozen fire, but I just laughed, feeling a thrill of excitement. This was just the beginning of our twisted game.

"Where are you taking me?" Ashley asked, her voice laced with unease, as the driver pulled up to my apartment building.

"Our humble abode," I replied, my smirk hinting at the true nature of our situation.

"I'm not going in with you," she said, her eyes flashing with defiance.

I chuckled, the sound low and menacing. "I don't think you understand the situation, Ashley. Your mother's life is in my hands. One wrong move, and she's out of my hospital. And even if you try to take her elsewhere, I'll make sure she's turned away. Don't test me, Ashley. I'm far more ruthless than you can imagine."

Ashley's eyes welled up with tears as she stepped out of the car, her body trembling with fear. For a moment, something about her vulnerability struck a chord within me. But I shoved the feeling aside, refusing to let sentiment cloud my judgment.

My phone rang, shrill in the silence. "Speak," I barked, answering the call.

"Your mom is here," Dan, my secretary, said.

I gritted my teeth. "Put her on."

"Ryder, what's going on?" my mother's voice was like ice, her tone dripping with venom. "I saw the news. You're engaged to that...that..."

I cut her off, my patience wearing thin. "Listen, Mom, I told you I wasn't marrying Zara. Ashley and I are getting married, and that's final."

My mother's response was a venomous hiss. "You'll regret this, Ryder. Mark my words."

I hung up the phone, my jaw clenched in anger. I turned to the security guards stationed outside my apartment. "No one gets in without my permission. Got it?"

They nodded, their faces expressionless.

I strode into my apartment, the doors closing behind me with a soft click. Ashley stood frozen in the foyer, her eyes wide with fear.

I smiled, a cold, calculated smile. "Welcome to our new home, Ashley. You'll be staying here...with me."

Ashley's voice trembled with anger. "Can't I stay elsewhere? I have an apartment, where I live. I'm not homeless, Ryder."

I shed my suit jacket, the fabric sliding off my shoulders like a dark cloud. I tossed it onto the couch beside her, the sound echoing through the room. "I didn't say you were," I replied, my eyes locked on hers, my voice low and husky.

"I don't even know you, why me? I'm a stranger," Ashley protested, her eyes flashing with defiance.

I chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "Ashley Jenkins, daughter of Lia and Clifford Jenkins, age 22. Your dad died of a heart attack at 48, and your mom has been your caretaker ever since. Until she developed a brain tumor, leaving her paralyzed and weak. The doctors say she has about five months to live if the tumor isn't removed."

Ashley's eyes widened in horror as I revealed the intimate details of her life. "How...how do you know all this?" she stammered.

I stood up, my movements fluid and deliberate. Ashley didn't see me coming, lost in thought as she was. I pulled her toward me, her breasts pressing against my hard chest. Her eyes flashed with alarm.

"W-what are you doing?" she stuttered.

I raised an eyebrow. "And if you want to go to your apartment, the police and media are waiting for you. So, do you still want to go?"

Ashley gulped, her gaze locked on mine. She shook her head. "No...but I'll settle my debts. I don't need your help."

I chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down her spine. "Baby girl, the only help you'll get is from me. I can save you or destroy you. Choose now: will you stay or leave?"

Ashley's face was a canvas of reluctance, but she finally surrendered. "Fine," she sighed, the word dripping with resignation.

I smiled, triumphant. "Well, great choice." I withdrew my hands from her waist, my fingers lingering on her skin for a fraction of a second.

Just then, Fiona, my maid, appeared at the doorway. "Show her around the apartment," I instructed, my eyes never leaving Ashley's face. "She's my fiancée."

Ashley's glare could have frozen fire, but I just smirked, savoring the spark of animosity between us.

With that, I strode away, leaving Ashley to Fiona's care. I entered my room, the soft click of the door a welcome respite from the tension.

As I stepped into the bathroom, the heat of the shower enveloped me, soothing my skin. But my mind refused to let go of Ashley – the way her curves fit perfectly in my hands, the vibrant red lipstick that accentuated her dark skin, and the way she swore with such abandon.

"Fuck," I muttered, my frustration echoing off the tiles. "What's wrong with me?"

Just as I was starting to relax, my phone buzzed on the counter. I groaned, knowing I had to answer it.

But as I picked up, a chill ran down my spine. "Ryder, we have a problem," a low voice growled on the other end.

My gut twisted with foreboding. "What kind of problem?"

The voice paused, and for a moment, I wondered if the line had gone dead.

But then, the words dropped like a bombshell: "Ashley's not who you think she is."