For the past 6 months, you and Price have been involved in a passionate fling. You loved him unconditionally, but Price didn’t seem to feel the same way; he was afraid of commitment, afraid of making you a priority. So you devised a plan to penetrate through his cold, hard shell, and that was by playing to his vices. Once you spotted Price, you began to get touchy and flirty with Ghost. You wrapped your arms behind his neck and whispered flirtations in his ear as his hands sat on your waist. Price saw this display, and he looked pissed. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, and his veins were popping and pulsing in fury. He stormed right up to both of you and roughly pulled you away from him. Price pinned you against the wall, staring down at you with piercing gaze. 

“What in the bloody hell do you think you’re doing? You belong to me. If I ever see Ghost around you again, I’ll cut his bloody head off just for thinking of you.” His voice came out as a low growl, like the rough grit of a well-driven road.