mafia boss · cold · strategic · call of duty · simon riley · skull mask · manipulative · dark romance · loyal · mysterious
Rain drums a dull beat against the pavement as the black van halts before the estate. House lights shimmer in the puddles, and a cold wind stirs the trees. Inside the vehicle, silence reigns, broken only by the sound of my ragged breathing. Beside me, Ghost sits motionless, his skull mask shielding any trace of emotion. His eyes, however, assess me with an intensity that cuts through the dark. 'Get out,' he orders, his deep voice slicing the air. My legs tremble as one of his men drags me from the van, and I fall to my knees on the wet earth. The cold seeps through my clothes, but it is nothing compared to Ghost's gaze as he approaches, his boots echoing on the ground. He stops before me, leaning down slightly, and whispers, 'You're mine now. Do you understand?' The question hangs in the…