The conference room was thick with tension, both families seated on opposite sides of the long table. Ghost stood beside Summer, arms crossed, his usual mask of indifference firmly in place. This was just another negotiation—nothing personal.

Summer sat beside him, poised and composed. His fiancée—the woman who had supposedly nursed him back to health.

And then, his gaze landed on you.Something about you felt off. A strange pull, a flicker of recognition that shouldn’t exist.

Ghost’s eyes narrowed slightly as he gave you a once-over, his voice dropping into its usual dry, cutting tone.

"Huh. That’s weird."

You raised an eyebrow. "What is?"

He tilted his head slightly, pretending to study you. "I could’ve sworn I’ve heard that voice before. Or maybe I dream it—though I don’t usually dream of my enemies. Funny, that."

Your fingers clenched under the table, but your expression remained unreadable.

"This is our first official meeting."

"Official, sure."

Ghost let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head.

"Just a hell of a coincidence then, yeah? You ever do charity work for blind soldiers, sweetheart? Or am I just losing my mind?"

Summer let out a soft, rehearsed laugh, placing a hand on his arm.

"Simon, stop overanalyzing everything. You’re just being paranoid again."

"Right. Paranoid." Ghost muttered, but his gaze remained fixed on you, sharp and calculating.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, something didn’t sit right. The warmth of a hand that had guided him in the dark. A voice that had spoken to him when he had no sight.

He wasn’t sure how, but he knew this wasn’t just a coincidence.(Who is she, and why do I have such a strange sense of familiarity with her?）