Marked By The Ruthless President

CHAPTER 2 — REAPER

(Reaper’s POV)

I noticed her the moment she walked into Venom Lounge.

Not because she was loud.

She wasn’t.

Not because she was trying to be seen.

She wasn’t doing that either.

That was the problem.

She stood out because she didn’t try to.

Most women in my world performed. They laughed too loud, touched too much, wanted attention like it was oxygen.

Her?

She looked like she was holding something together that was already breaking.

Black dress. Bare minimum makeup. Eyes that didn’t belong in a place like this.

Tired eyes.

Grieving eyes.

I should’ve looked away.

I didn’t.

Instead, I stayed watching her from the VIP rail, letting the noise of the club fade into background pressure.

“Boss,” one of my men said beside me. “You want anything?”

“No,” I said.

My eyes didn’t leave her.

Then she looked up.

And for a second—

She saw me.

Not my cut. Not my power. Not my world.

Me.

Something in my chest tightened, unfamiliar and unwelcome.

That kind of awareness wasn’t useful.

It was dangerous.

She turned away quickly like she felt it too.

That made me smirk.

Interesting.

She had instinct.

I started down the stairs before I made the decision consciously.

That was my mistake.

I didn’t usually move for anything I didn’t plan.

But she made me move anyway.

When I stopped in front of her, I saw the hesitation in her posture.

Not fear.

Not exactly.

Caution.

Smart.

“You’ve been looking at me,” I said.

She denied it immediately.

Bad liar.

I liked that too.

Most women either froze around me or leaned in too hard.

She did neither.

She challenged.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

I almost told her.

Almost.

But names create attachment.

Attachment creates weakness.

And weakness gets people killed in my world.

“Not tonight,” I said instead.

Her brows tightened like she didn’t like being denied anything.

Good.

She shouldn’t.

I stepped closer without thinking.

Close enough to see the subtle rise and fall of her chest.

She was nervous.

But she didn’t step back.

That told me more about her than anything else.

“You came here to forget something,” I said.

I wasn’t guessing.

I read people for a living.

Her pause confirmed it.

“My mother died,” she said.

That landed harder than expected.

I’ve seen death up close.

Too many times.

But grief on a woman like her?

It didn’t belong.

Something in my chest went still.

Then colder.

Then controlled again.

“Then stop thinking tonight,” I said quietly.

My hand brushed her wrist.

Light contact.

Enough to test her reaction.

Her breath hitched.

I noticed everything.

She felt it.

Good.

“Just feel.”

Because thinking would ruin this.

And I didn’t know why I was letting it happen in the first place.

I leaned in.

Close.

Not kissing her yet.

I don’t rush things.

Control is everything.

But she was close enough now that I could feel her hesitation breaking.

“Come upstairs with me,” I said

A pause.

Her eyes flicked to the stairs.

Then back to me.

And she said it.

“…okay.”

That single word should’ve meant nothing.

It didn’t.

I led her upstairs through Venom Lounge’s private corridor.

The noise of the club faded behind us with every step.

My suite door was at the end.

Black. Reinforced. Private.

Not many people came up here.

Fewer left unchanged.

When I opened the door, she hesitated again.

Still cautious.

Still thinking.

I didn’t like that part.

Thinking creates doubt.

Doubt ruins chemistry.

“You still want to leave,” I said.

She lifted her chin. “Do I look like I’m leaving?”

A faint smirk tugged at my mouth.

“No.”

She walked in first.

That surprised me.

Most women waited to be led.

She didn’t.

I closed the door behind her.

The sound felt final.

The room shifted immediately.

Smaller.

Quieter.

More dangerous in its silence.

She looked around slowly, taking in everything—the glass walls, the city lights, the expensive furniture—but she kept stealing glances at me.

Smart again.

Always watching.

“You don’t talk much,” she said.

“Neither do you,” I replied.

That made her exhale something like a laugh.

First crack in her armor.

I stepped closer.

She didn’t move away.

I liked that even more.

“You’re not afraid of me,” I said.

She hesitated.

“I don’t know you.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

A pause.

Then—

“No,” she admitted quietly.

Honesty.

Rare.

My hand rose again.

This time to her jaw.

I felt her breath catch instantly.

“Good,” I murmured.

Her eyes searched mine like she was trying to figure out what kind of man I was.

The answer was simple.

The kind you don’t mistake for safe.

My thumb brushed her lower lip.

Her reaction was immediate—small inhale, body tightening slightly.

She felt everything.

Too much.

That would be a problem later.

Right now, it was exactly what I needed.

“Tell me to stop,” I said.

Silence.

Her answer was in her eyes.

I leaned in.

And kissed her.