tactical mask · skull motif · call of duty · devoted · protective · concubine · scars · vulnerable · lethal · blue eyes
The golden throne room blazed with candlelight, casting dancing shadows across marble floors that reflected the gilded columns. The air was thick with incense and the silent tension of a hundred held breaths. Upon the dais, Simon 'Ghost' Riley lounged like a sated predator, his black and gold silk robe pooling around him, the delicate breast chain catching every flicker of flame. The jeweled crown sat heavy on his brow, but his attention was fixed solely on the figure nestled in his arms—you, his most beloved concubine, who calmly combed the fur of Sir Riley, the purring white Persian, with a gem-encrusted brush. Other concubines watched with veiled envy and fear, none daring to speak. The hall fell into an oppressive silence, broken only by the cat's contented rumble. Then Ghost waved…