All Chapters of MY HOT BIKER SAVIOUR : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

SATURDAY... (MARCUS REYNOLDS) Marcus sat in his penthouse apartment, lights off, curtains wide, cigarette burning slow between two fingers he didn’t realize were trembling. On the coffee table in front of him sat three phones... two dead burners and one sleek black one with a single number dialed. He stared at it. His jaw twitched. He pressed call. It rang twice before her voice came through. “...Hello?” That voice. He closed his eyes and grinned. “Well, well. The runaway answers.” Silence. “Don’t tell me you thought I’d forget you that easily.” Still no response. But he could hear it... her breathing, the stiffness in it. Still scared. That made him smile. “You’ve been running around like some sweet little trophy girl. But we both know the truth, don’t we, Tess?” His voice dropped. “You weren’t made for people like him.” Another pause. Then finally, she spoke. And her voice wasn’t shaking. “I’m not yours, Marcus. I never was. You just made

~TESSA~ (The following day) It was 8:30pm. The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and butter. Debbie had somehow convinced me to help her bake a pie. She was at the counter, fussing with her pie crust, humming something cheerful. I stood at the sink, rinsing apples, sneaking bites when she wasn’t looking. “You’re a menace,” Debbie teased, smacking my hand with the wooden spoon as I reached for another slice. I laughed, a real laugh that loosened something tight in my chest. “Hey, I’m quality-checking. You should be grateful.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Sure. Remind me not to hire you if I ever open a bakery. You’d eat the profits before we even opened the doors.” I grinned, tossing another piece into my mouth, and for just a heartbeat, I felt… normal. Like a girl hanging out with her sister-in-law, not someone with a target on her back. The back door creaked in the wind. I barely noticed at first. Debbie was talking about Ryder’s wild teenage years, and I leaned in

~TESSA~ (THE NEXT DAY 📍 REYNOLDS MANSION) I was back. Back in hell. Marcus Reynold's mansion. A place I never dreamt of coming back to. But here I was. Trapped again. By none other than the devil himself. He brought me here because I had agreed to all his stupid terms. But I had to follow. Really had to. For my Ryder and Sarah. They were dear to my heart, and I couldn't afford to see any of them in pain. ~ The dining room looked more like a museum than a place for food. Marble floors, gold chandeliers, and a polished table so long it could seat twenty people. But it was just the two of us—me and Marcus. I sat stiff in the velvet chair, the silver fork in my hand shaking with every move I made. I wasn’t hungry. The roast in front of me smelled rich, heavy, suffocating. But Marcus was watching, his cold eyes narrowed, daring me not to eat. “Better get used to it again, babe,” he said, slicing into his steak like it was nothing. “Back where you belong. Right here.”

~MARCUS~ I leaned back in my leather chair, phone pressed against my ear, swirling a glass of whiskey in my hand. “Yeah, it’s me,” I said, voice dripping with authority. “Listen, Bruce… you remember that little waitress of yours? Tessa. She’s back. My woman now. She’ll be resuming tomorrow. Don’t argue.” A pause on the other end. Then the quick, obedient stammer: “Of course, sir. Whatever you say.” I smirked. The power tasted almost as good as the whiskey. “Good man. Make sure she’s treated right. And Bruce…” I leaned forward, my voice dropping cold. “She belongs to me. Don’t forget that.” I hung up, satisfied. Control was all about details. If she wanted a taste of her old life, fine. I’d give it to her—but on my terms. A cage dressed up like freedom. ~TESSA~ The alarm hadn’t even rung. My eyes snapped open in the gray hush of dawn, heart thudding, chest heavy. I slipped out of bed quietly, not daring to wake him. My body still ached from last night, bruises throbbing un

~TESSA~ The pain in my hand came and went in waves. Marla had wrapped it in a cold towel, her voice soft but firm, like a mother’s. “You’re lucky it didn’t blister worse,” she said. “You need to keep that clean. No more frying for you tonight.” I nodded, staring at my own fingers. They looked small, fragile. Red lines where the hot oil had kissed my skin. I wasn’t thinking straight — hadn’t been since the call. My hands still trembled when I tried to tie the bandage tighter. Every word Ryder said replayed in my head, tangled with my lie. “I’ve moved on.” “I’m with Marcus now.” The sound of my own voice saying it made me sick. Marla leaned closer. “You sure you’re okay, sugar? You’ve been… distant lately.” I smiled weakly, the way people do when they’re too tired to pretend. “Just one of those days.” When my shift ended, the world outside was quiet and gray. Evening drizzle had started, coating the pavement in reflections of red diner lights. I pulled my jacket t