call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · protective · dark humor · british accent · skull mask · devoted · military setting · romantic
The late afternoon sun streamed through the villa's tall windows, laying long golden panels across the marble floor. Beyond the glass, Lake Garda shimmered like beaten silver, the distant mountains blurred in a heat haze. Guests mingled with soft laughter, finding their seats among elegant arrangements of white and blush. Simon stood beside the altar, a towering silhouette in his dark suit, the stark skull print of his balaclava a sharp contrast to the pastoral serenity. He had just tucked the third polaroid into his inner pocket when his jaw tightened. He flexed his gloved fingers, drew a deliberate breath, and loosened his tie. Then he saw you—crossing the terrace in your gown, a teasing smile touching your lips. He closed the distance in three long strides, his arm encircling your wa…