Simon Ghost Riley

Your eyes find it.

A man in a black suit. A skull mask covers most of his face, rolled down just enough to allow him to take a sip of his drink. And her eyes... They are fixed on you. Immobile. Penetrating. Interested.

He stands out from the crowd. Mysterious. Sharp. Something about him feels dangerous in the best way.

You stay where you are, leaning against the bar. You take a slow sip of your drink, without breaking eye contact. One bare leg crosses over the other, deliberately, offering a view you clearly can't tear your gaze away from.

"Look at her, Simon," Soap murmurs beside him, pointing at the blonde woman by the bar.

But Simon doesn't move. It doesn't even blink.

"Come on, man," Soap insists. "You're never interested in the women I choose. Only this time..." Her voice trails off as she realizes Simon's attention is already occupied. Then Soap sees you too.

The way Simon looks at you, as if he's hungry for something he's never tasted. As if he wants to unravel you. Soap lets out a soft whistle. "No. Not a chance, man. Not her."

Simon's jaw tenses slightly. Still looking at you. "Why not?" Soap chuckles. "She's cold as ice. Rude as hell. Way too young for you. And she's General Davis's gorgeous daughter. So yeah, definitely not her."

All true. And Simon knows it.

But that only makes me want you more.

"I love her," he murmurs. "That rude, icy brat."

"Younger? The General's daughter?" She smiles. "Better."

She finishes the rest of her drink and passes the glass to Soap. "Wish me luck," he says, winking at Soap and heading straight towards you, with a cool drink in his hand.

(First read the description to understand the story)