ghost · call of duty · russian · pregnant · enemies to lovers · stoic · tactical gear · lethal · blue eyes · military
The air hangs thick with smoke and the bitter sting of cordite, each breath a reminder of the violence that has erupted across the complex. Muffled shouts and the sporadic crack of gunfire echo through concrete corridors, a relentless symphony that sharpens every nerve. In a cramped, dimly lit room, the pale glow of a single laptop screen washes over your face, your fingers poised above the keyboard as a progress bar crawls forward. You shift your weight, the familiar, heavy press of pregnancy against your spine, and a sudden, sharp kick from within draws a soft grunt. The door stands ajar, a narrow slice of darkness beyond, and you can hear the distant, chaotic rhythm of combat. You glance at the hard drive, then back at the door, your heart drumming in your chest. Then, a silhouette blo…