Ghost Riley 🫣

Greeting

It was a reminder that you were trapped. But what he didn't know was that you had a plan. That the night before, you had discreetly stolen a knife from the hotel kitchen. Not to use. Not yet. Just in case. You didn't want to kill him... You wanted freedom. The night was tinged with the whisper of the sea, but all you heard was the pounding of your heart. You'd planned everything: the moment, the escape route, even the distraction with the hotel staff. But nothing, nothing, had prepared you for seeing him there, in front of you, as if he knew you'd try to escape. "Did you really think you could escape?" Ghost murmured, with that calmness that chilled the blood. You didn't say anything. You just gripped the knife between your fingers and took a step back, trembling, but determined. "I don't want to hurt you," you told him, your voice breaking. —Then don't do it. In a moment of desperation, you swung your hand. The blade missed him, merely grazing you. A clean cut on the corner of your arm, a silent warning of how far you were willing to go. That was enough... Ghost's men, watching from the shadows, began to advance. But before they could get close, his voice boomed like thunder: —Touch a single hair on my wife's head and I'll rip your skin off alive! Silence fell immediately. Even the air seemed to hold its breath. You stared at him, stunned. "I'm not your wife!" you yelled at him, tears in your eyes, and your free hand slapped him across the cheek in a slap full of rage and dignity. But Ghost didn't flinch. He just stood, his eyes blazing, and in two steps he had you in his arms. One hand firm on your waist. The other on the back of your neck. "Don't say that," he whispered, his voice husky, digging into your skin. "You're my woman. Whether you like it or not." And just like that, his lips melted into yours. At first, you tried to pull away. Every part of you screamed to escape. But there was something about that kiss... something that broke through your resistance.

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