Marked By The Ruthless President

CHAPTER 4 — A PROBLEM IN MY SUITE

(Reaper’s POV)

The second Chains’ fist hit my suite door again, I felt the room tighten.

Gina was still standing near the chair, my cut in her hands, wrapped in black silk sheets that still carried the scent of last night.

Too vulnerable. Too exposed. Too close to becoming everyone’s business.

I hated that.

Not because I cared.

Because I hated mess.

And Gina was quickly becoming one.

“Boss,” Chains barked from outside, voice rough with impatience. “Open the damn door.”

I held Gina’s gaze for one beat longer.

Wide-eyed. Confused. Still trying to figure out why this had suddenly become dangerous.

Because it had.

In my world, nothing stayed personal for long.

Everything became club business.

Especially when it involved my enforcer’s woman’s family.

I took the cut from her hands and slung it over my shoulder.

“Go into the bathroom,” I said.

Her brows pulled together instantly. “Why?”

Because Chains was territorial. Because Tessa was emotional. Because rumors spread through an MC faster than gunfire. Because I didn’t need the entire Black Vipers knowing I took her upstairs the first night I met her.

“Because I said so.”

The words came colder than intended.

But cold worked.

She stared at me for a second, hurt flashing across her face before she masked it.

Good.

Distance was necessary.

She turned and disappeared into the bathroom just as I unlocked the door.

Chains pushed inside first.

Leather cut. Broad shoulders. Dark stare already scanning the room.

The serpent patch on his back marked him clearly:

BLACK VIPERS MC — ENFORCER

Behind him came Tessa.

The moment she stepped inside, her eyes widened.

“Gina?”

I cursed internally.

Too late.

Gina stepped out of the bathroom, still wrapped in the silk sheet, hair a mess from sleep and last night.

The silence that followed could’ve split concrete.

Tessa’s mouth fell open.

Chains’ jaw locked.

Then his gaze shifted to me.

Slowly.

Dangerously.

“Boss,” he said, voice low with disbelief. “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

I leaned against the edge of the desk, calm.

Because if there was one thing I’d learned as president, it was this:

Chaos only spreads if the leader reacts.

“It’s exactly what it looks like.”

Tessa gasped.

Gina stiffened.

Chains let out a dark laugh that held no amusement.

“Jesus Christ.”

His eyes cut to Gina.

“You spent the night with him?”

Gina lifted her chin, even with the sheet clutched around her.

“That’s none of your business.”

A dangerous answer.

I almost smirked.

Chains noticed it too.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

He looked back at me.

“Boss, with respect… this is Tessa’s cousin.”

I already knew what he meant.

Family gets pulled into club problems. Women connected to patched members get seen as territory, responsibility, or leverage. Nothing stays simple.

My gaze moved to Gina.

She was still too proud. Too defiant. Too unaware of how this world worked.

And somehow that made her even more dangerous.

Tessa rushed to Gina’s side.

“Oh my God, are you okay?”

Gina blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Tessa lowered her voice, though everyone in the room still heard.

“Because that’s Reaper.”

The name landed hard in the silence.

Gina looked at me.

Not Dante. Not the man from last night.

Reaper.

The title carried weight now.

Fear. Power. Reputation.

Good.

Maybe now she’d understand.

Chains crossed his arms over his chest, eyes still on me.

“You know the rules, Boss.”

Of course I knew the rules.

No unnecessary complications. No women who create divided loyalties. No mess inside the club.

But rules were flexible when I decided they were.

“She’s not patched family,” I said evenly.

The room went still again.

Tessa frowned.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Chains said before I could answer, “until there’s commitment, the club doesn’t claim responsibility.”

Gina’s expression changed.

A flash of something sharper.

Hurt.

Then anger.

Her gaze snapped to me.

“So that’s all last night was?”

The room suddenly felt too small.

Too personal.

I hated personal.

I forced my expression blank.

“It was one night.”

The words landed like a blade.

I saw the hurt hit her immediately.

Saw the way she straightened, pride replacing vulnerability.

Good.

Better she hate me now.

Safer that way.

Tessa looked horrified.

“Gina—”

“I’m fine,” Gina cut in sharply.

But the way her fingers tightened in the sheet said otherwise.

She moved toward the pile of her clothes near the bed.

Every step rigid. Controlled. Furious.

The room stayed silent while she dressed.

Even Chains knew better than to speak.

When she finally turned back to face me, her eyes were colder than before.

More guarded.

A challenge.

“Then let’s keep it one night,” she said.

The words should have meant nothing.

But something in my chest tightened anyway.

She moved past me toward the door.

Tessa followed quickly.

Chains lingered.

His stare met mine.

“This could become a problem.”

I already knew that.

Because as Gina walked out of my suite, every instinct I trusted told me one thing:

Last night wasn’t finished.

Not even close.

The moment Gina stepped into the hallway, a clubwhore standing near the elevator smirked at her and said—

“Did Reaper finally throw you away too?”

Gina froze.

And for the first time, I saw real fire in her eyes.