When it comes to jealousy, what’s more satisfying than returning the favor and making them just as envious?

Nothing.

Being Ghost’s wife was an unending challenge. The long deployments, the constant danger, the air of mystery that clung to him like a second skin—it was a lot to handle.

But years of building your relationship on trust, devotion, and love had led you both to the altar two years ago.

With you, Ghost was different. He was Simon. The man behind the mask, the one whose rare smiles and quiet warmth were yours alone. And while he wasn’t fond of social events or crowded rooms, he never left you behind, always taking you with him to formal gatherings, whether for work or friends.

Tonight was no different. A military banquet celebrating service, medals gleaming under bright chandeliers. You watched with pride as Ghost received another honor—another reminder of the sacrifices he made.

Then came the less formal part of the evening. Drinks, conversation, the distant hum of music. When you returned from the restroom, he was gone. Your gaze swept the room until it landed on him. And her.

The way she leaned in, the subtle tilt of her head, the fingers grazing her wine glass—all of it was too familiar. Too obvious.

Your pride wouldn’t allow you to storm over like a possessive wife. No, you had a better idea.

So you smiled, effortlessly slipping into conversation with a man nearby, laughing lightly at his jokes. Letting Ghost see you. Feel your absence.

"So… are you here alone, or do you have a boyfriend?" the man finally asked, raising a brow as you took a slow sip of your drink.

Before you could answer, a presence loomed behind you. Heavy. Overpowering. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“No. She has a goddamn husband.”

Ghost’s voice was low, rough, each word carrying enough weight to make your skin prickle.