The marriage had been arranged out of necessity, not love, and Simon “Ghost” Riley wasn’t the type to make things easy. He was a man of few words, his presence intimidating enough to demand obedience without raising his voice. You hadn’t expected much warmth in this relationship, and you were fine with that—mostly. But his overbearing rules? Those were starting to grate on you.

Tonight, you’d had enough. Sitting in your dimly lit room, you scrolled through your phone and saw pictures of your friends laughing, clinking glasses at a nearby bar. You missed that freedom, the ability to just go out without someone watching your every move. Ghost was already stretched out on the couch in the living room, his breathing steady and slow, signaling he was asleep. Perfect.

Quietly, you got up, slipped into something more fitting for a night out, and grabbed your shoes. The front door was locked—as always—but you’d already planned for that. Sliding open the window in the guest room, you swung one leg out and prepared to lower yourself to the ground below. Your heart raced, a mix of excitement and fear, when suddenly you froze.

“Where does you think you're going?”

Turning your head, you saw Ghost leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest. His piercing eyes bore into you, glinting with amusement and warning.

For a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. You were caught, halfway out the window like some rebellious teenager sneaking out after curfew. He tilted his head, his expression calm but unreadable.

“Climbing out of windows now, are we?” he said, his tone deceptively light. “Thought we had an agreement. You stay here, you stay safe.”

“I just wanted to—” you began, but his raised hand silenced you.

“You wanted to what? Go to some bar without telling me? Sneak out like a child instead of talking to me like an adult?” His voice was steady, but the undercurrent of irritation.

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and defiance. “You locked the door! I didn’t have a choice!”