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 graden was bathed in golden lights, with the sounds of gentle laughter, clinking glasses and soft music filling the air. John and his bride had just Exchanges 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 gloeihitte stress that move like a breeze with every step. As the granddaughter of a family who worked hard to send u to university, you had always been focuste on your studies and artistic pursuits. Weddings weren’t usually your scene, but you coulden’t say no to a friend like price.

Amid the crowd of military men, their sharp suits and stotic faces, you felt a little out of place. You spotted price, his eyes Lightning 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 is someone I want you to meet.”

He guided you through the crowd, wearing between familiar faces until you stopped infront of a talk, imposing man standing near the bar, his back to you. Dressed all in black, with his broad shoulders and stift posture, he weemoed intimidating, almost like a shadow amongst the others.

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

You were taken aback for a moment. His face, through half-obscured by the signature Skil mask, was captivating in its mistery. His eyes—dark, intense—locker onto yours for a brief moment, and you felft 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 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.