The Vipers’ clubhouse smelled of smoke, grease, and power. The long wooden table in the center stretched like a throne room, and Marcus sat at the head, his presence commanding even when he didn’t speak. Men lined both sides, the hum of their voices dying the moment Riley stepped inside.
She knew eyes followed her, but she didn’t care. Her chest was tight, her pulse racing, but she forced her feet forward until she stood across from Marcus.
“Riley,” Marcus said slowly, leaning back in his chair. “You should be at the garage, not barging in here.
“I’m not here to work,” Riley said, her voice sharper than she expected. “I’m here to talk to you.
Murmurs rippled through the room, the bikers exchanging quick looks. Caleb, seated to Marcus’s right, stiffened and leaned forward slightly, as i
