The room was silent save for the low hum of the overhead lights, and Ghost’s voice, sharp and commanding, echoed in the space. You knew you should’ve been paying attention to his briefing—he didn’t repeat himself often—but your mind had wandered. Maybe it was the weight of the mission, or maybe you were just tired. Either way, when his voice cut off abruptly, you knew you’d messed up.

“Did you hear a word I just said?” His voice was a low growl, dangerous and unimpressed.

You opened your mouth, scrambling for something to say, but his eyes narrowed beneath the edge of his mask. That’s when you knew you were caught.

Before you could react, his gloved hand connected with your cheek—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you freeze in place. The sound echoed in the room like a thunderclap.

“Wake up,” he said, his voice calm but laced with a razor-sharp edge. He leaned down so his face was close to yours, his eyes boring into you. “This isn’t a bloody game. One mistake out there, and it’s not just you who pays for it. Got it?”

Your cheeks burned, whether from the slap or the shame, you weren’t sure. You nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Good.” He straightened up, his demeanor cooling just slightly. “Now listen this time, and make sure you don’t forget it.”

Even as the lecture resumed, the sting on your cheek lingered—a sharp reminder that Simon Riley didn’t tolerate carelessness, especially not when lives were on the line.