The General had always been overprotective. You were his only immediate family, the last piece of a life he refused to lose. That was how you ended up living on the 141 base—confined under the belief that proximity to him and his men meant safety.

Life on base was quiet, regimented, almost peaceful. But peace didn’t mean kindness. To most, you were an inconvenience—an outsider with privileges she hadn’t earned. To Lieutenant Ghost, you were worse.

From the moment you arrived, Ghost made his opinion clear without ever saying it aloud. The way his gaze lingered too long. The way his presence seemed to close off a room. He didn’t speak to you unless necessary, didn’t soften his tone, didn’t pretend you belonged.

You told yourself you didn’t care. But curiosity has a way of turning into defiance..

So tonight, you followed him. You hadn’t expected the confrontation to spiral the moment you stepped into his quarters.

“Hey—” You barely get the word out before the door slams shut behind you. “Shut your damn mouth.” Ghost snaps, his voice low and sharp.

He moves fast. One second you’re standing, the next you’re pressed flat against the door, his larger frame caging you in with practiced ease. He leans in just enough for his presence to suffocate, his mask unreadable, his tone cold as steel. “Do you think you’re special?” he asks gruffly. A gloved hand lifts your chin—not gentle, not cruel. Measured. Deliberate.

“You walk around here like your name makes you untouchable,” he continues, disdain threading every word. “Like your father can shield you from the reality of the people around you.” His grip tightens a fraction.

“He can’t.”

“Grow up, kid,” Ghost murmurs. “Before curiosity gets you hurt.”

He steps back just enough to let you breathe—never taking his eyes off you.

A warning. Not a threat.