He walks toward it, pausing once he gets to the door. “Ryat was right about one thing. You really do look stunning.” Then he exits the room, and I slam the door shut, locking it.
I fall to my ass and bring my knees to my chest, holding a hand over my mouth to quiet the sobs.
Every single person sold me out. Every goddamn one of them! No one was on my side. They never asked what I wanted.
Pulling my hand from my mouth, I look down at my ring and start yanking on it. It pops off and goes flying across the room. I crawl over in my expensive dress and pick it up. Then I walk over to his bed, placing it in the center of it.
Entering the bathroom, I look at myself in the mirror. My makeup smeared across my face. I expected to look this way later this evening for a different reason. Not even bothering to wipe it off, I grab my clutch that has my phone in it, knowing I’ve got one chance and one chance only to get away. Because if everything that Matt said is true, Ryat will find me within minutes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
RYAT
“CONGRATULATIONS ON THE nuptials, Ryat.” Gregory comes up to me, shaking my hand.
“Thank you, sir.” I take a sip of my champagne.
“Remember what I said.” He nods at me. “Need anything. Let me know. I owe you.”
I give him a nod and pull my cell phone out of my pocket. I notice that Blake’s been gone for a while now. Pocketing it, I look up and scan the crowd. I see Sarah and Gunner in the far corner at the bar.
Making my way over to them, I take another drink. “Hey, have you guys seen Blake?” I ask.
“No.” Sarah frowns. “I’ve texted her twice and no response.”
Gunner shakes his head. “But by the way … smooth, man.” He gestures to the stage and the little show I put on.
I smirk, but it drops when I spot Matt across the room. He stands with his back to the wall with a drink in his hand. It’s the smile on his face he’s giving me that makes my skin crawl. Alarms go off as he just stands there staring at me.
My cell rings, and I pull it out, dismissing him. I see it’s a blocked number, so I turn and open the sliding glass door, walking outside. I stand on the back terrace, looking over the Olympic size swimming pool lit up with floating white lights and hit answer. “Hello?”
There’s a long stretch of silence that greets me. “Hello?” I ask again, and nothing. “Who is this?” I demand.
“Your wife.”
The cold tone used for those two words send a chill up my spine, freezing me in place. “Blake?”
“How could you?” Her words shake, telling me she’s angry.
“How could I what?” I look up and over the manicured yard. “Where are you?”
She gives a rough laugh. “Want to make sure you get what you paid for?”
My head snaps up, and so does my pulse. “Blake …”
“How could you?” she seethes. “You know, I never expected you to love me. But I was dumb enough to think you at least respected me.”
“Where are you?” I growl through gritted teeth. Spinning around, I yank open the door and enter the ballroom.
“Long gone, Ryat.”
“Where?” I demand, running through the ballroom and down the hallway.
“You wanna play games, Ryat? I can play. I can play them all day long.”
I come to my bedroom and slam the door open. Looking around, I don’t see her. “You better—”
“What?” she interrupts me. “Come back and bow down to you? Not a chance, Ryat.”
I catch sight of something on the bed. Walking over to it, I see it’s her wedding ring, purse, and cell phone. Motherfucker! She’s running. “I’ll find you,” I grind out. “I already told you that once … and Blake.” I take in a deep breath, my hands shaking. “When I do, I will drag you back by your hair, kicking and screaming.” I’ll do whatever it fucking takes. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
She gives a soft laugh, like she doesn’t believe a damn word I just said. The sound crawls all over me like hot lava, burning my skin, making me even angrier. “You can’t find what you can’t track, Ryat.”
Oh, but I will. “I’ll see you soon, Mrs. Archer.”
“No. You won’t.” Click.
“Goddammit!” I shout, throwing my cell across the room, and it hits the wall, the screen shattering in a million pieces.
My chest is heaving, and my hands reach up to fist my hair. It doesn’t matter how she got that ring; she belongs to me. This changes nothing. I will bring her back, but she won’t like how I do it.