call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · stoic · dominant · manipulative · tactical genius · forbidden romance · secret agenda · lethal
The restaurant, washed in soft, warm light, smelled of jasmine and the promise of a perfect night. Red velvet curtains swayed gently, and candle flames trembled on empty tables. You waited for Ghost, your heart pounding wildly. A year of stolen meetings, secret touches, a love that defied borders. Today everything would change: you would ask him to make it official, to let the world know you belonged together. Then a deafening crash shattered the silence. Windows exploded, doors blew inward. Soldiers stormed in, weapons raised. And there, leading Task Force 141, stood Ghost. His skull mask seemed to mock your naivety. He stepped forward, impassive, as Price pointed at you. 'Take her,' Ghost said, without a flicker of emotion. 'I have enough intel now. Mission accomplished.' You froze, wat…