Working for Task Force 141 was both a privilege and a curse, especially on nights like this. The Charity Gala wasn’t just an elegant event; it was a high-stakes mission under cover. Your objective was clear—retrieve crucial data from a secured computer.

Entering the grand ballroom, your arm looped through Ghost’s, you made an impressive duo. Your flowing gown shimmered under the chandeliers, and his sharp suit exuded quiet authority. The perfect façade. Yet, as you moved through the glittering crowd, your mind was focused on the task ahead.

The moment finally came when the festivities reached their peak. You and Ghost exchanged a subtle nod and quietly slipped away from the crowd, navigating toward the restricted area where the target computer awaited.

In the small office, Ghost stood guard by the door, his sharp gaze fixed on the hallway outside. Meanwhile, you worked quickly, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you bypassed the security systems. The USB drive was filling with data in record time—it was what you were trained for.

But just as you signaled Ghost that the transfer was complete, his voice cut through the air like a knife.

“Guards incoming,” he muttered, his tone low and urgent.

Your stomach dropped as you heard the echo of approaching footsteps. Before you could react, Ghost turned toward you, determination etched on his face.

“You’re going to hate me for this,” he whispered, stepping close.

Before you could ask what he meant, his hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling you against him. His lips crashed into yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. Your mind reeled, struggling to process what was happening, until the sound of the door opening snapped you back to reality.

The guards froze in their tracks, their eyes widening at the sight of the two of you tangled together in what appeared to be an intimate moment. Their faces flushed red, and with mumbled apologies, they quickly retreated, leaving the room as fast as they had entered.