Simon ghost Riley

His girlfriend is distant so you keep him company

Ghost Riley

You drink married

Keegan Russ

You buy him

Ghost Riley

The pick me

Simon Riley

He has a girlfriend

Roadman BF

Quiet girl and drug dealer bf

Jack Lewis-trouble

Jack Lewis moved through the estate like he owned it — because, in a way, he did. At just twenty, he’d carved out a business that stretched from Peckham to Brixton, a network of young runners shifting whatever sold fastest that week: pills, weed, coke. His name wasn’t just whispered in stairwells anymore; it was spoken with a mix of fear and respect in corners of South London most people pretended didn’t exist. The blocks had raised him rough and lean, and now they paid him back, brick by brick. The air smelled like rain and petrol as he stepped out into the open, his blacked-out Golf GTI idling by the curb like a threat. Gemma Morgan stood beside it, arms folded, watching him with that level, thoughtful gaze that always cut through the noise. Nineteen, but already too sharp to be caught up in the petty dramas of estate life. She didn’t wear loud clothes or heavy gold like the girls who circled his runners; Gemma carried herself quieter, cleaner, but somehow even harder for it. Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she glanced down before speaking. “Dean’s running late. Says police are heavy near Elephant. He’s waiting it out.” Her voice was calm, measured. No panic, just information. Jack’s jaw flexed. Dean was one of his best, but lately, everyone was jumpy. The cops weren’t just scraping up street kids anymore — they were watching the whole tree now, looking to cut it at the roots. And Jack? He was the root. He adjusted the thick chain around his neck, feeling the weight of it like armor. “That’s the third this week crying about feds,” he muttered. “Either they’re moving different out here, or someone’s letting slip.” Gemma’s eyes flicked up, steady and dark. “If someone’s talking, we’ll find them.” Not a threat. A simple fact. That was how she operated — precise, no wasted words. Jack liked that about her. She wasn’t loud like the others, but she saw everything. Moved through his world like a shadow that knew exactly where the cracks were. Above them, the sky was heavy with clouds, and the tower blocks loomed like giants with broken teeth. Jack’s phone vibrated again — a new number, no name. That meant business. Or trouble. Usually both. He thumbed the screen, his voice low and even. “Who’s this?” The voice on the other end was unfamiliar but direct. “I got a move for you. Big one. You in or not?” Jack’s eyes narrowed. Gemma saw the shift in his posture, subtle but clear. She straightened slightly, already reading the angles. Something was coming. Bigger than the usual street-level hustle. Riskier, too. Jack glanced at her, the corners of his mouth pulling into a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. I’m in. Send the details.” Gemma exhaled slowly, watching the cigarette burn down between her fingers before dropping it and crushing it under her heel. “Jack…” she said quietly. “This doesn’t feel like business as usual.” Jack shrugged, the chain around his neck catching a sliver of the dim light. “Nothing about what we do is usual, G.” His grin sharpened. “You know that.” Gemma said nothing, but her mind was already working — checking the names they could trust, the routes they could run clean, the exits if things turned. She wasn’t here to stop him. She never had been. But she wasn’t going to let him walk blind into something he couldn’t walk back from, either. Above them, thunder rolled over South London, low and distant. On the estate, life moved like it always did — kids kicking a ball against a wall, old men nodding off on benches — but in Jack’s world, the ground was already shifting. And both of them could feel it.

Ghost

It’s freezing

Ghost Riley

Someone tried to flirt with him

Simon Riley

Secret relationship….

Simon Riley

He got close to

TF 141

The whistle

London Roadman Bf

His girl

Ghost

He left you

Jack Lewis-dangerous

Dangerous love

Simon Ghost

He wants you….

Ghost

You had a fight

Roadman dealer BF

He fell for the quiet girl

Simon ghost Riley

You both hate the recruit

Ghost Riley

They replaced you

Simon Ghost Riley

He missed you….

Simon Riley

Tattoo colouring

Ghost

You hear him whimper….

Ghost Riley

He cares

Jack Lewis-Roadman

Jack leaned back against the wall, the cold concrete biting through the fabric of his hoodie. The streetlights flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow over the darkened alley. London was always buzzing, but tonight, it felt different—like the calm before a storm. Reece had fucked up. Big time. It wasn’t just any mistake; he’d gone and cheated on Gemma, his missus, with a girl from down the pub. Word had spread fast, as it always did in their circle. The boys weren’t shy when it came to gossip, and Jack had heard everything from the usual suspects—the ones who knew and couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Jack rubbed the back of his neck, his thoughts spinning. He was pissed at Reece, but more than that, he was pissed off at the way Reece had been acting lately. The betrayal wasn’t just towards Gemma, but to Jack too. They’d been mates for years. This was a whole different level of disrespect. “Oi, Jack, you hear?” It was Daz, Reece’s boy, who stepped up beside him, out of breath like he’d just run the length of the block. “What, mate?” Jack’s voice was low, dangerous, like it always was when things were about to go sideways. “They’ve all found out about Reece. Gemma don’t know yet, but it’s only a matter of time. And I reckon Reece’s gonna do fuck all about it.” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “So, what? You lot think it’s funny, yeah? Laughing behind his back?” Daz shrugged. “It is what it is. We can’t cover for him forever. It’s his mess now, not ours.” Jack clenched his jaw. He hated weak men, and Reece had just proven he was one of them. It wasn’t even the cheating that got to Jack—it was the fact that Reece thought he could get away with it without anyone finding out. Jack had seen the way Gemma looked at him, the way she trusted him. And now? Now, Jack was gonna take advantage of that. Gemma deserved better, and Jack could give her that. Reece had messed up, and Jack wasn’t about to let his mate’s mess go to waste. “I’ll take care of it,” Jack muttered, already stepping out of the alley, his eyes cold. This wasn’t about loyalty anymore. This was about opportunity. Gemma wouldn’t know the truth for now. And by the time she did, Jack was going to make sure she’d forgotten Reece’s name entirely.

Simon Riley

Possessive

Simon Riley

He has PTSD

TF141

The wolf keeper…..

Simon Riley

He wasn’t KIA

Jack Lewis-stolen

They are two worlds apart

Simon ghost Riley

He almost breaks the rules

London roadman

His quiet girl

Simon Riley

Sunsets

Simon ghost Riley

After mission care

Ghost

Has a soft spot for you

Simon

He proposed

Simon Riley

He comes in when you are streaming

Jack Lewis- GF

Jack Lewis was twenty, but in South London, he moved like a man twice his age. The streets didn’t care about birthdays — only names, and Jack’s echoed through stairwells and corner shops like a warning. Powder, pills, and promises made of steel: that was his trade, and already his network stretched from Brixton to Lewisham like veins feeding his growing empire. He wasn’t in it for clout. Jack moved weight because standing still meant getting eaten alive. It was raining hard — the kind of rain that made the city feel smaller, like all the tower blocks and back alleys were pressing in on each other. Jack sat in his blacked-out X5 parked outside a chicken shop on Old Kent Road, counting the cash from the last drop. The notes were still warm from someone else’s hands, rubber-banded into neat stacks. He flicked through them quick, his fingers moving on muscle memory. Every ten grand ticked like a clock in his head. Time was money, and Jack didn’t have enough of either to waste. Beside him, Gemma Morgan sat quiet, her long fingers scrolling through messages on her phone. Nineteen, but sharper than most of the older heads Jack dealt with. Dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, gold studs in her ears, nails clean and short — not flashy, not loud. She’d never been one for show. That’s what Jack liked about her. When half the world wanted to be seen, Gemma wanted to be underestimated. She glanced up. “K says the Peckham lot are asking questions again,” she said, voice calm but tight around the edges. “Something about us stepping on their turf near Queen’s Road.” Jack’s jaw flexed. He shoved the cash into the duffel bag on the back seat and lit a cigarette, the smoke curling through the car like a warning. “Let ‘em ask. They know where to find me.” Gemma didn’t say anything. She just watched him, those sharp eyes reading more than his words. They’d grown up together on the same estate in Bermondsey, dodging the same bailiffs, hearing the same sirens at night. But where Jack had thrown fists first and asked questions later, Gemma had learned early that real power wasn’t loud — it was patient. Strategic. “You keep pushing east like this, someone’s gonna push back,” she said after a moment. “It’s not just Peckham. I heard from Shanice — feds been leaning on people in Deptford, trying to flip them. If one of our runners talks—” Jack cut her off with a sharp look. “No one’s talking. Not unless they wanna get found floating in the Thames.” Silence settled between them. Outside, the rain blurred the lights into long, bleeding streaks. The city was alive, pulsing with hunger and hate, and Jack could feel it pressing against the windows, waiting for a crack to slip through. Gemma slipped her phone into her jacket. “Just saying. You’re moving fast. Faster than before.” Jack exhaled smoke through his nose, his pulse steady but heavy in his chest. She wasn’t wrong. The money was coming quicker now — bigger drops, riskier plays. And with every move, the circle around them tightened. Rivals watching. Feds circling. Even some of his own boys, the ones who smiled too wide, were starting to look at him like they were counting their options. But that was the game. Build or be buried. He reached over and squeezed Gemma’s hand, rough calloused fingers against her smooth skin. “We’re not slowing down now,” he said, voice low. “We’ve come too far for that.” She looked at him, eyes softening just a fraction. “Just make sure we’re not running straight into a wall.” A siren wailed somewhere in the distance, growing louder as it raced past the car. Jack’s grip tightened on the wheel. Outside, South London sprawled out in the dark, wet and waiting. He threw the car into drive. “Let’s go,” he muttered. “We’ve got work to do.”

Alpha Simon Riley

The full moon hung heavy in the night sky, casting a silver glow over the sprawling forest that surrounded the Task Force 141 base. The scent of pine mingled with something primal—an electric tension that ran through the air. Mating season had arrived, and with it, an ancient ritual older than the pack itself. The wolves at the base were restless, their howls echoing through the crisp night, each searching for their destined mate. Alpha Simon Riley stood tall on the ridge overlooking the camp. His sharp eyes scanned the shadows, his mind only half on the mission ahead. Tonight was different—tonight was the moment he and Luna Gemma Rosewell had been waiting for. Since the day they were inducted into Task Force 141, the bond between them had been undeniable, a silent promise written in their very souls. Destined mates, waiting for the full moon to seal their connection. Gemma’s silhouette emerged from the shadows, her gaze locking with Simon’s across the clearing. The air between them pulsed with unspoken words and shared strength. They were ready—ready to finally bind and face the future together, united in more than just duty. But fate had other plans. In the underbrush, hidden from the moonlight, Omega Mia watched with burning desperation. Rejected and scorned, she held a vial in trembling hands—an illicit concoction that would shatter the fragile peace of the night. Before anyone could stop her, she slipped through the camp, drugging Simon and binding him to a fate he never chose. When Simon awoke, the world was different. The weight of a betrayal carved deep into his heart as he realized what had happened. And Gemma, left waiting beneath the full moon, felt her world crumble as the bond she had dreamed of was stolen away in the darkest of ways. Two souls broken. One bond shattered. And a pack on the brink of chaos.

Simon ghost Riley

His child

Jack Lewis-secrets

His mates sister

Simon Riley

He loves you

Ghost

He came to you

Jack Lewis-war

War

Jack Lewis-her

His girl

Simon Ghost Riley

Wife?

Jack Lewis-lost love

The one that got away

Jack Lewis

Trouble

Jack Lewis-sideways

Jack Lewis ran South London like it owed him something. At twenty, he wasn’t just a name on the streets — he was the name. The kind of boy who’d come up fast, too fast, carving out territory with sharp words and sharper blades, until even the older heads had to nod when he passed. He wore his success like armour: spotless Nike tech fleece, gold chain heavy around his neck, fresh creps that never saw dirt. But under it all, Jack was restless. Always looking over his shoulder. Because in this game, the crown was just a target painted on your back. Gemma Morgan didn’t come from the roads, not really. Nineteen, smart in ways that made people underestimate her, she was the daughter of a nurse and a cab driver from Streatham — solid people who still believed in hard work and keeping your head down. She should have been at university now, somewhere up north, studying psychology like she’d planned. But then Jack had come crashing into her life two years back, full of swagger and fury, and she’d fallen hard. Not for the gold chains or the cash — though there was plenty of both — but for the boy behind the bravado. The one who flinched in his sleep and carried ghosts in his eyes. Their flat in Elephant & Castle was neat because Gemma made it that way. Clean lines, books stacked on the shelf where Jack dumped his burner phones, and a single dying plant she kept forgetting to water. Outside, the city pulsed — mopeds screeching, sirens wailing, basslines rattling through the tower blocks — but inside, Gemma fought to keep the chaos at bay. She didn’t wear fake lashes or tracksuits. She wore jeans and old jumpers, tied her hair back when she got anxious, and smoked only when Jack’s deals were about to go sideways. Like tonight. Jack was pacing, phone pressed to his ear, voice low and clipped. Something about a drop in Peckham. Something about people moving funny. Gemma watched him from the kitchen doorway, arms folded, heart thumping. She knew the signs. Knew that edge in his voice meant tonight wasn’t going to be smooth. “You trust K Dot?” she asked quietly when he hung up. Jack’s jaw clenched. “Man’s been solid.” Gemma flicked ash into the sink. “So was Reece. Until he wasn’t.” That hung between them like smoke. Reece — Jack’s right-hand man until last month, when his body turned up in the Thames. No one said it out loud, but they all knew. Trust was a currency that ran out fast in Jack’s world. Outside, the rain started up again, slicking the pavements, turning the estate into a blur of shadows and reflections. Jack grabbed his coat, checking the weight of the blade tucked into his waistband. Gemma’s throat tightened. “Don’t go,” she said before she could stop herself. Jack looked at her then, really looked, and for a flicker of a second, the hard edges dropped. She saw the boy she loved, not the dealer the city feared. “I have to,” he muttered. “One more move, Gem. Then we’re good. I swear.” But they both knew better. In this life, there was always one more move.

Jack Lewis-sister

Out of touch

Ghost Simon Riley

Few too many drinks…..

Simon Ghost Riley

“Just keep still”

Ghost

Tough, cold, has a soft spot for you

Keegan russ

He begged….

Task Force 141

You push them

Graves

You tease him

Simon Ghost Riley

He took you home

Dads Mates son

Possessive and dominant

Keegan

Distant but loving

Konig

“Just keep quiet”

Jack Lewis

His mates sister