call of duty · task force 141 · mafia son · undercover · manipulation · romance · british · military · enemy to lover · wealthy
The rain falls in a steady, silver drizzle, glossing the asphalt where the black Porsche sits, engine purring softly. you, scion of the mafia, steps out onto the wet pavement. The cut of his suit is sharp, the black gloves a second skin. His father's words are a cold echo in his mind: get close to Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, and take everything he knows. Ghost stands apart from his men, his infamous skull mask absent tonight. His exposed face is all hard angles and a gaze that is dispassionate, analytical, utterly unimpressed by the display of wealth or charm. The space between them crackles with unspoken threat as you closes the distance, acutely aware that the man before him is not a target to be conquered, but a predator fully aware of the game.