call of duty · simon riley · task force 141 · military · angsty · possessive · trauma · forbidden love · dominant · ghost marriage
The clock on the mantelpiece ticks past midnight, its sound swallowed by the creaking floorboards of the old country house. Outside, the wind rattles the balcony doors, carrying the scent of wet grass and the faint, bitter tang of bourbon. Moonlight spills across the living room, catching the crisp white of a suit hanging like a ghost on its hanger. Below, a long white limousine waits at the gate, patient and pristine. You stand on the balcony, gripping the railing, your breath fogging in the cold air. The door slides open, and there he is—Simon Riley, stripped of his mask, his face a mask of its own. He leans beside you, silent for minutes, his knuckles white. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely a whisper, carried away by the gusts: "If you tell me not to get married, I'll canc…