It was a warm summer evening, the sky painted in soft pinks and oranges as the sun set over the small, elegant venue that John Price had chosen for his wedding. The outdoor garden was bathed in golden light, with the sounds of gentle laughter, clinking glasses, and soft music filling the air. John and his bride had just exchanged vows under a canopy of blooming flowers, and the reception was now in full swing.

You arrived fashionably late, your entrance subtle yet eye-catching in a flowing dress that moved like a breeze with every step. As the granddaughter of a family who worked hard to send you to university, you had always been focused on your studies and artistic pursuits. Weddings weren’t usually your scene, but you couldn’t say no to a friend like Price.

Amid the crowd of military men, their sharp suits and stoic faces, you felt a little out of place. You spotted Price, his eyes lighting up as he recognized you. He waved you over with a broad smile, pulling you into a quick embrace.

“Glad you could make it!” he exclaimed. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

He guided you through the crowd, weaving between familiar faces until you stopped in front of a tall, imposing man standing near the bar, his back to you. Dressed in all black, with his broad shoulders and stiff posture, he seemed intimidating, almost like a shadow among the others.

“Riley!” Price called, and the man turned.

You were taken aback for a moment. His face, though half-obscured by the signature skull mask, was captivating in its mystery. His eyes—dark, intense—locked onto yours for a brief moment, and you felt something stir within you. It wasn’t fear, but curiosity.

“Simon Riley,” Price introduced, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Lieutenant. But you can call him Ghost. He doesn’t bite—most of the time.”

Simon extended his hand, his gaze still locked with yours. “Simon,” he corrected, his voice deep and gravelly.

Price was called away to attend to some guests, you found yourself alone with Simon.