Marked By The Ruthless President

(Gina's POV) I shouldn’t have come to Venom Lounge. That was the first thought that crossed my mind as the bass hit my chest and turned my ribs into a drum. l just moved into town a week ago. After I lost my mother. The only family I have left are my aunt and cousin, Tessa. And they live in this town. I'm here to unwind. But stepping into the club makes me rethink my decision to come with Tessa. Too loud. Too crowded. Too alive. Nothing like me. Tessa grabbed my hand and pulled me deeper into the nightclub like I wasn’t already fighting the urge to leave. “Stop acting like a ghost,” she shouted over the music. “You’re twenty-four, Gina. Not dead.” I didn’t answer her. Because if I opened my mouth, I might say the truth. That I still felt buried. My mother had been in the ground for three months, but grief didn’t leave with the funeral. It stayed. It sat in my bones like weight. Tessa dragged me toward the bar anyway. And that’s when I felt it. The stare. Not casual. Not accidental. Intentional. Like someone had just decided I belonged in their line of sight. I looked up. And saw him. He wasn’t dancing. Wasn’t talking. Wasn’t pretending to be part of the chaos around him. He was above it. VIP section. Leaning slightly forward on the railing like the entire club was beneath him. Black shirt. Tattooed arms. Stillness that felt dangerous. But it was his eyes that caught me. Dark. Controlled. Focused. On me. My breath stopped before I could understand why. Tessa followed my gaze and muttered, “Oh no.” “What?” I asked. “That man doesn’t look like someone who smiles.” I swallowed. “Who is he?” Tessa shook her head. “Nobody really knows. But I’ve heard the bikers call him—” She didn’t finish. Because he moved. Down the stairs. Slow. Controlled. Like he had all the time in the world and didn’t care who noticed. And people did notice. They stepped aside without being asked. Like he owned space just by walking through it. He stopped in front of me. Too close. Too tall. Too calm. My pulse jumped instantly. “You’ve been looking at me,” he said. His voice was low. Rough. Certain. “I wasn’t,” I lied quickly. A faint smirk appeared. “Bad liar.” I frowned. “Do you always assume things about strangers?” “I don’t assume,” he said. “I observe.” That made me uneasy. Because I had the feeling he was observing everything. My hands. My breathing. The way I shifted under his stare. “What’s your name?” I asked. A pause. Then— “Not tonight.” My brows tightened. “That’s not an answer.” “It is in my world.” That sentence should have warned me. Instead, it pulled me in. “You came here to forget something,” he said. I froze slightly. “…maybe.” “What?” “My mother died,” I said before I could stop myself. Something flickered in his eyes. Not softness. Something heavier. Recognizing. He stepped closer. Just enough that the noise of the club faded behind him. “Then stop thinking tonight,” he said quietly. His fingers brushed my wrist. Barely there. But it felt like fire. “Just feel.” My breath caught. I should have walked away. I should have gone back to Tessa. But I didn’t move. Because when he leaned in and said— “Come upstairs with me.” —I already knew my answer. And I hated that I did. “…okay,” I whispered.