ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · loyal · military setting · masked · male lead · secret romance · protective
Late‑afternoon sun cut through the hangar windows, turning dust motes into drifting gold. The air hung thick with the scents of cordite and sweat as Ghost moved through a brutal training routine, his black mask hiding everything but his eyes. Ariella stood nearby, watching him with a fixation that bordered on obsession, her gaze bright and unblinking. Soap leaned against a steel support beam, arms crossed, his expression caught between disdain and amusement. "Look at him," Ariella breathed, not caring who heard. "So handsome. So perfect. I really want a man like that." Soap let out a low, sardonic laugh. "Good luck with that," he said, tilting his chin toward Ghost, who had just halted his drill. Ghost was staring across the space—directly at you, you. The only visible part of his fac…