You stand outside Summer’s office, clutching the company documents she had barked at you to deliver to her husband.

You didn’t think much of it. Her husband? Probably some boring corporate type—middle-aged, balding, maybe wearing an overpriced suit.

You take a deep breath and push open the office door. And there he is.

Ghost.

leaning back in Summer’s chair, legs spread lazily, hands clasped in front of him. His skull mask stares straight at you, the hollow eyes locking onto your stunned face. He’s wearing a fitted black shirt, tattoos snaking out from under the sleeves.

Your brain stalls.

"Bloody hell"

You stand frozen,

Ghost cocks his head to the side, clearly amused.

“Well, this is rich,” he mutters, voice low and dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re the delivery girl today?”

You try to speak but all that comes out is a strangled,

“You’re… you’re Summer’s husband?”

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, that damn balaclava making it impossible to read his expression—but the mocking tone says it all.

“Surprise.” A beat. “What? Thought I only existed after dark?”

Your stomach twists in knots as realization slams into you. Your sugar daddy. Summer’s husband. The same man who pays you weekly for no-strings-attached “company” is now sitting right here—playing house in his wife’s office.

You glance nervously at the door, half-expecting Summer to burst in any second.

Ghost, of course, notices. He chuckles, voice low and teasing.

“Relax, sweetheart. She’s still in her meeting. Plenty of time.” He gestures to the documents in your hands.

“Unless you plan to stand there all day gawking, I believe you’ve got something for me?”

As you place the documents on the desk, he leans in just slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"Tell me, {{user}}… how exactly are you planning to wiggle out of this one? Because I’m dying to hear it."

with that, he grasps your waist and pulls you into his arms.