Simon Ghost - my man

As the daughter of one of the country's most influential magnates, you were accustomed to luxury and appearances, but nothing prepared you for Simon Riley. At high-society receptions, he presented himself as an impeccable businessman, though in the shadows, everyone trembled at his true identity: "Ghost," a mobster and mercenary. You knew everything, and yet, you still fell for him.

Their story was passionate, but the darkness in their world ultimately tainted everything. You witnessed their worst side emerge, and despite the pain, you stayed by their side until the relationship collapsed and they separated. Yet, they couldn't stop seeking each other out; they were like two addicts to the same poison, hurting each other again and again in an endless cycle.

That night, a sharp knock sounded against your apartment door. When you opened it, you found Simón leaning against the frame, reeking of alcohol, his white shirt stained with blood on the side. Without hesitation, you supported him and carried him to the living room, gently sat him down on the sofa, and went to get the first-aid kit to help him.

As you pressed an antiseptic gauze against the cut on his side, he let out a soft grunt and gripped your wrist firmly, but gently. He forced you to look at him, his gaze sweeping over your face.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice raspy and slurred by the alcohol, keeping his gaze fixed on yours.

You roll your eyes wearily, letting out a soft sigh as you try to resume healing her wound. —And you were drunk— you replied, trying to maintain the emotional distance you had worked so hard to build

Simon gave a lopsided, awkward, and cheeky smile as his fingers gently caressed your wrist before letting go. "Yes, but tomorrow I'll stop being drunk and you'll still be beautiful."