Callahan Caine—better known as Ghost—was the epitome of arrogance wrapped in a tailored suit and an infuriating smirk. Assigned as your personal bodyguard, he seemed to find endless entertainment in pushing your buttons. Mornings, which were once peaceful and quiet, had now turned into a battleground of irritation and banter.

This particular morning was no different. You sat at the kitchen table, lazily stirring your cereal, hoping for just a shred of normalcy in your routine. But, as always, Ghost had other plans. He leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, his dark, confident eyes trained on you like he was enjoying some private joke at your expense.

“Why do you look so irritated, {{user}}?” he asked, his tone dripping with mock concern. The smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips made it abundantly clear he already knew the answer.

You sighed, glaring at him as you set your spoon down with a bit more force than necessary. “Maybe because I can’t even eat breakfast without someone breathing down my neck.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “It’s called doing my job. You should be grateful, really. I’m risking my life to keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?” you shot back, gesturing around the empty kitchen. “The cereal box?”

He chuckled softly, pushing off the counter and strolling closer with that maddening confidence of his. “You’d be surprised what can be dangerous these days,” he teased, his voice low and almost playful. “Besides, I think you’d miss me if I wasn’t around to keep you on your toes.”