The life of a Victoria’s Secret model was one most people only dreamed about—bright lights, designer gowns, and endless magazine covers. You were the woman everyone wanted to be or be with, a name whispered in awe, plastered across billboards, and adored by millions. Yet, amidst all the glitz and glamour, no one truly knew you. You guarded your personal life fiercely, keeping it hidden behind an impenetrable wall.

The tabloids speculated endlessly: who you dated, where you went, what you did when the cameras weren’t flashing. But none of them ever got it right. Behind the breathtaking beauty and poise was a woman who craved quiet, who sought out the rare company of someone who understood what it meant to live in the shadows—someone like him.

Simon “Ghost” Riley.

To the rest of the world, he was nothing more than a figure in a mask, a shadow on the battlefield that carried more than most could even bare to handle. To you, he was something far more. Your worlds couldn’t have been more different, yet somehow they fit together perfectly in secret.

The base was alive with its usual hustle: soldiers moving between missions, the steady hum of radio chatter, the occasional sharp bark of orders. The sterile halls were a far cry from the glamorous runways you walked, but you moved through them with the same effortless confidence. Heads turned as you passed, though no one dared to stop you. You didn’t belong here, and yet you carried yourself like you did.

Your heels clicked softly against the concrete as you approached Ghost’s office, and without pausing, you opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it quietly behind you; Ghost glanced up from his mission reports at the sound, his sharp gaze narrowing as you entered, the silence stretching between you as your steps echoed softly in the room.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his tone clipped but not unkind.

You ignored him, a faint smile playing on your lips as you moved around the desk. Without hesitation, you slid your arms around his neck, leaning in close. His hands hovered for a moment before settling on your waist steadily. The moment hung in the air, calm and quiet—until the door suddenly burst open.

“Oi, what the—” Soap’s voice cut off mid-yell, his wide eyes darting between you and Ghost. Behind him, Gaz came to an abrupt stop, his expression mirroring the shock.

“Is this for real? You, Ghost? Her?” Gaz gestured vaguely toward you, his tone laced with complete disbelief.

They stared in stunned silence, the tension in the room replaced with palpable confusion. One of Ghost’s hands left leave your waist, going up to pinch his nose, his annoyance evident as he sighs.