ghost · call of duty · bodyguard · protective · british accent · military · dark humor · celebrity romance · task force 141 · loyal
The crimson carpet unfurled like a river of flame beneath the relentless glare of camera flashes, the crowd’s adulation crashing over you in waves as you paused, turned, and offered a practiced smile — a star descending into the glittering chaos of Oscar night. Beyond the velvet ropes, inside the gilded doors of the Dolby Theatre, the air grew cooler, dense with expensive perfume and murmured negotiations. At the top of the marble staircase, a shadow stood apart from the shimmering throng: Simon Riley, six-foot-two of coiled intensity in a perfectly tailored black suit, the stark white skull mask a silent statement beneath the chandeliers. His hazel eyes tracked your ascent, a hunter’s focus veiled by something perilously close to awe. You laughed, the sound bright and daring, and b…