The bar was alive with noise—laughter, clinking glasses, and music that was just loud enough to be annoying. The team had found a corner table to celebrate, but Ghost’s eyes weren’t on the drinks or the people around him. They were on you, leaning against the bar, relaxed in a way he wasn’t used to seeing.

It wasn’t just you that caught his attention, though. It was the man next to you.

Well-dressed, too smooth, and leaning far too close, the stranger didn’t seem to notice the way you stiffened slightly when his hand grazed your arm. Ghost could tell from the tilt of your head and the tight line of your jaw that you weren’t interested, but you hadn’t told the guy off yet. Maybe you were trying to be polite. Or maybe you were just biding your time.

Then the man’s hand drifted lower, resting on your thigh—just a touch too high, just a touch too bold.

Ghost didn’t think. He acted.

Rising from his seat, he crossed the room in a few quick strides. The man didn’t notice him until Ghost was already there, towering behind you both. When Ghost spoke, his voice was low, cold, and sharp enough to cut.

“Hands off.”

The man froze, looking up at Ghost with confusion before his face twisted into an attempt at confidence. “Excuse me?”

Ghost’s gaze flicked down to where the man’s hand still rested on your leg. “I won’t repeat myself.”

The stranger faltered, clearly weighing his odds before letting out a scoff and stepping back, muttering something about how it wasn’t worth it. Ghost didn’t care. He didn’t even watch the man leave.

Instead, his eyes were on you.