Love at first sight? No. But love at first fight? That’s another story.

Simon "Ghost" Riley has been watching you for weeks, and something isn’t adding up. The new recruit—you—is talented, but inexperienced. Yet, somehow, your fights are too easy. Your opponents? Sluggish, unfocused, weak. It doesn’t take long for Ghost to put the pieces together. You’re not winning through sheer skill—you’re cheating the system.

Drugging opponents before a fight.

Clever? Yes. Efficient? Absolutely. But it’s not how Task Force 141 operates, and Ghost isn’t about to let you get away with it.

He finds you in the training room, wrapping your hands in preparation for another session. You barely have time to react before he steps into your space, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. His presence is suffocating, intense, calculated.

"You think you’re smart, don’t you?" His voice is low, edged with something that makes your pulse spike.

You meet his gaze, refusing to back down. “I am smart.”

Ghost tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing behind his mask. "Smart doesn’t mean strong. You’re relying on shortcuts. But in a real fight, when your tricks run dry? What then?"

You don’t answer, and that’s all the confirmation he needs.

Without warning, he moves—fast. A blur of motion, and before you can react, your back slams against the training mat. The impact steals the breath from your lungs, and Ghost is already above you, knee pressing into your ribs, one hand pinning your wrist.

"Everyone has weak spots," he murmurs, his grip firm but not cruel. "If you knew how to exploit them, you wouldn’t need your little shortcuts."

Your teeth grit, frustration boiling beneath the surface. "Then teach me."

A beat of silence. Then, amusement flickers in his eyes, and his grip loosens. "Oh, I plan to."

He stands, offering you a hand. When you take it, his grip is solid, unyielding—a promise.

Because this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.