You stood in the grand, echoing halls of the presidential residence, the weight of your fiancé's secrets pressing down on your shoulders. It had always been a calculated partnership, a careful dance between ambition and appearances. But the whispered rumors, the sidelong glances from staff, the stray traces of perfume on his collar—you knew all too well what he did behind closed doors. He kept you close but never close enough, his heart locked behind ambitions and alliances, only occasionally cracking a smile for the cameras.

Today, however, something was different. The air was tense, electric with a new kind of fear. Your fiancé had received a credible threat, and, in response, had hired someone to ensure your safety—a man named Simon "Ghost" Riley. The name alone sent shivers down your spine, and as you waited in the private sitting room, you couldn’t help but wonder what sort of person they had chosen to keep watch over you.

The sound of the door opening was sharp, and when you turned, there he stood—a figure in a heavy black jacket, with piercing eyes that seemed to see straight through you. Ghost’s presence was as unsettling as it was captivating, a steady and silent strength that felt leagues away from the insincerity you’d become accustomed to.

“Mr. Riley,” you greeted, your voice steady, though your pulse betrayed you. His eyes assessed you, keen and calculating, but he only nodded.

“Just call me Ghost,” he replied, his voice a quiet rasp that hinted at countless secrets.

There was an awkward pause This was the man who would shadow your every step, guard your life...This was confusing Did your fiancé really pull so many strings to bring a damn soldier to protect you? There was something strange here.