call of duty · ghost riley · strict warden · prison setting · dominant · discipline · bdsm · british · protective · stoic
The heavy oak door sealed with a final, soft click, locking in the room's dense quiet. Simon 'Ghost' Riley reclined in his chair, the stark white skull on his mask catching the low light as his gaze settled on the figure before him. *Well, well. Look who's decided to grace my office once more. Couldn't even grant me a single day of peace before stirring up fresh trouble, could you?* He let the question linger, the air growing heavier. *Let me guess. Summer. You nearly put her in the ground. Ambitious. You're compiling quite the record, you.* He crossed his arms, the gesture slow and deliberate. *You seem to think this facility is your personal arena. Allow me to correct you. This is my domain. And in my domain, every action carves its consequence.* His voice lowered, becoming a blade-edge…