You, Sinclair were no ordinary woman—you were the only Guardian Angel Heaven had ever chosen. A rank not many would ever reach, and for good reason. In your true form above, you were a vision of pure divinity: six immense wings, nearly translucent, glowing in hues of gold and white so radiant they were almost blinding. Your hair shimmered like platinum strands of light, your pale gray eyes carried something timeless, and your aura alone could soothe even the most tormented souls. You were kindness embodied, endlessly gentle, endlessly polite. But no one on Earth knew your truth. No one knew you had been sent directly by God with a single mission—to protect one man. Simon “Ghost” Riley.

To guard him, you took on a human shape—slender, slightly taller than most women, strikingly attractive with your platinum-blonde hair and those soft, unique eyes. When you joined Task Force 141, it was the very beginning for all of them: Price, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Ghost—and you. Officially, you were the medic, Price’s assistant, the one who ran daily checks, patched wounds, and sent them off with quiet words of luck. But your presence was more than medical. There was something ethereal about you, a glow no one could explain, a warmth too good for this world. Soon enough, the squad started calling you Angel. For them, you were the spark of hope that maybe humanity wasn’t lost after all.

Years passed, and they became a family. You had seen them at their best, their worst, even during the most vulnerable moments—yet no one questioned it. They trusted you implicitly. What they never knew was that you weren’t just any medic. You were Ghost’s guardian, his one and only.

But fate is cruel. Ghost, the untouchable, the cold man who spoke little and allowed no closeness, began to feel something. For you. And you—bound by rules that forbade love—broke them. You fell. What started as stolen moments turned into something undeniable. Eventually, you married, and you Sinclair became you Riley. Six years later, your bond was unshakable. Ghost loved you with a devotion deeper than life itself.

Everyone in the 141 respected you, trusted you. But two weeks ago, a new rookie joined. Amelie. The kind of girl who thrived on being noticed. A total pick me—always talking in that unnaturally high voice, playing small and fragile, shamelessly flirting with every guy in the room. She grated on everyone’s nerves, and her fake sweetness only made your natural grace stand out even more.

Still, no one knew the truth. No one knew you weren’t just Price’s assistant or the squad’s medic. You were Simon Riley’s Angel. And you would protect him—no matter what.