Ryder Tully Novels & Stories

"Your uncle is the coach of the team, right? Bartholomew Murdock? Oh, he's such a capable man! We're so thankful for everything he does for our son!" "And you're on the medic team?" We talk about this for a handful of minutes, and they're genuinely interested in my subjects and my plans for after graduation. Tyler says nothing and just stands beside me with his hands in his pockets, his eyes never leaving my face once. Everything seems to be going well until I catch a whiff of Ryder's scent in the air. I snap my head in the direction of the doors that lead to this garden, and sure enough, I see him. His fiancée is standing right next to him and I'm fuming all over again.

I shrugged, kicking a small rock into the nearby flower hedges. “Man, this is exactly why I had to leave that fucking family. It’s like being a Chadwick means being miserable. My biggest luck was the fact I was born a second-son. I swear to God, I would’ve burned that entire family to the ground. Legacy be damned!” he said. It was ironic to hear him say that since I knew he prided himself on the legacy of Shadow Ryders. I was about to reply him when my phone rang. It was Rolly, a Ryder who worked as a valet in the new upscale restaurant in Pine Creek. What was it called again? I can’t remember now.

Ryder closed the distance between us in two long strides, grabbing my arms gently but firmly, his touch warm even through the thick fabric of my jacket. "He's not just a captain, Maya," Ryder rasped, his dark eyes burning into mine with an agonizing blend of frustration and deep, protective fury. "His family owns the compliance officers. His father's firm handles the private ledger transfers for half the athletic board. Every minute you spend in his shadow, you're walking into a trap."

she states, pointing to Emmett and Richard as Ryder turns to glance at them. “Yeah; they are nobody. My father owns Stephen’s winery’s. Who cares they are here with some piss ass property company” Ryder chuckles as one of his friends nudges him in the ribs to try and get him stop talking. “What?” “The one on the right is Drake Spencer” his friend tells him as his eyes grow wide and face contorts with humiliation.

he said curtly. Lara watched him in awe. He was accustomed to receiving attention from girls and remained unfazed by the admiring glances of his female staff in the office. Sometimes, it irritated him. He sighed and left the office, heading straight to the parking lot. He settled inside his red Ferrari, started the ignition, and drove towards his home. Ryder Knight, a twenty-eight-year-old billionaire and owner of Knight Enterprises, had achieved success and popularity at a young age. He was handsome, attractive, and the most sought-after bachelor in New York City. He possessed two qualities that drove girls crazy: lots of money and good looks.

My hands trembled in my lap, fingers digging into the fabric of my jeans as I clenched my fists. It wasn’t Jace. Not anymore. It was him—Ryder Black. He was a storm wrapped in denim and shadows, his eyes a deep golden blaze that had seen straight through me in the gym. Like he knew. Like he’d been there. My throat dried up. “Ryder Black?” I whispered, barely managing the name. Talia leaned in with a dramatic roll of her eyes, her thick curls bouncing. “Transfer. Rich troublemaker. Expelled from two schools. Rumor has it he broke a guy’s jaw with one punch, and his dad paid off the principal. Now he’s Crestwood’s problem.”

I breathed out steadying my mind, “venue shots, outside shots, entrance shots, head shots, décor, prestigious guests, celebrities, influencers, hosts uh...” “Drama,” he added. I shut my eyes. Dang it, the most important and I almost forgot. He flipped to the second card, “main celebrities?” “Robin Ryder. Manager, billionaire, business man. Wife died 3 years ago. 6 years ago he adopted two gold mines, 2 boys, Chris and Justin Star Ryder. Chris Ryder, movie star, 180 million followers on I*******m, men’s activists, coca cola ambassador, and…Britney’s boyfriend.”

"The prodigal son has returned." Ryder walked toward the grave with a stride that promised violence and ecstasy in equal measure. He didn't belong at a funeral; he belonged in a bed, or against a wall, or anywhere he could cause a scandal. "Bethany Evers, as I live and breathe," Ryder drawled. His voice was a low-frequency vibration that hit Ruth-Ann right between her thighs.

That sounded peaceful, yes, but also very boring. Sure, the old Taya's play-it-safe policy was a big reason behind the lack of excitement in my high school days. But there was something else. The reason why my love life was drier than the Sub-Saharan desert was this: Ryder Jake Williams. To the world, Ryder was RJ— the talented young surfer who was one of the most popular guys at school. But to me, he was just Ry, my annoying older cousin.

“You’re difficult to understand. And I never did meet a woman who stood out the way you did.” I looked down, fingers tracing the rim of my glass. “And what about you?” “What about me?” “What did you want, Nolan? Before the weight of a crown and a pack?” He hesitated. I could see it, the flicker of something behind his eyes, the ghost of a younger man he used to be. “I never really had the luxury of wanting,” he said. “From the moment I shifted, everything was duty. The Alpha’s seat was mine before I could even decide what kind of man I wanted to be.”