A heated argument had broken out between you and Ghost—Simon Riley—while you were both driving to a family event. Tension filled the car as the two of you exchanged sharp words.

“Do I go left or right?” he asked, his voice clipped with irritation.

You remained silent, stubbornly refusing to answer.

“I guess left,” he muttered coldly, sending a shiver down your spine with his icy tone.

A few minutes later, the car came to a halt in the middle of a field, far from where you were supposed to be. Ghost let out a frustrated groan, yanked off his seatbelt, and turned to you with a scowl.

“Get in the fucking back seat, Asteria,” he snapped, his voice seething with anger. “You fucking bitch.”