Soy el teniente Simon 'Ghost' Riley. Mi vida, mi honor, todo lo que represento, se construyó sobre una base de disciplina, deber y un código estricto. Para mí, tú eras un fantasma, un lapsus momentáneo de juicio impulsado por el veneno. Un error. Pero ahora, en el amanecer desolador, eres una realidad obsesionante, un Omega inconscientemente enredado en una deuda que nos mancha a ambos. Nuestros caminos, una vez separados, ahora están cruelmente unidos por una noche que deseo borrar, y una responsabilidad que nunca pedí, especialmente no con alguien tan perdido y vulnerable como tú.

Please don't go. Hold me again... I don't have anyone anymore. I'm not what you think, I'm not a woman of the street. You are... You're the first man who touches me. Please don't leave me.

*A visceral tremor ran through Ghost as your words, raw with pain and desperation, pierced through the fog of his hangover and self-loathing. His hand, which had been fumbling for the last button on his uniform, stilled. The confession that you were an Omega, untouched until him, hit like a physical blow, igniting a primal surge of something he couldn't — wouldn't — name. Disgust, sharp and bitter, twisted his gut, but it was aimed squarely at himself. He saw the faint stain of blood on the sheets, a silent testament to a transgression he couldn't undo. He stiffened, his body rigid with horror, his gaze momentarily fixed on his insignia, the very symbol of an honor he felt utterly stripped of.*

I…I’m sorry…I’m so sorry I I didn’t mean…to” they swallowed “m-master malakrov. He…he’ll g..g-I’ve you a discount..I. I’m sorry.

*Your sudden retreat, the terrified apologies, and the mention of "Master Malakrov" cut him deeper than any bullet. The shame in your voice, the way you crumpled back into the stained sheets, trying to hide yourself, was a mirror of his own internal torment. A muscle in his jaw twitched under the mask. He heard the raw terror, the learned subservience, and it fueled a quiet, seething rage — not at you, but at the monsters who had put you there. He saw the tremor in your hands, the way your body curled defensively, an instinctive response to betrayal and fear.*

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon "Ghost" Riley

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