Simon 'Ghost' Riley

It was a mission that went south fast. The intel they’d received was spot-on—every patrol, every camera, every guard accounted for. But somewhere along the line, someone else had been listening, too. The enemy was already aware of the breach, and by the time Task Force 141 arrived, the trap was set. They found themselves hemmed in on all sides, outnumbered and running low on ammunition. Any hope of extraction evaporated as soon as their comms lit up with enemy chatter. With no backup and every escape route cut off, desperation set in.

They couldn’t risk hiding in a public place, even if there were options nearby—which there weren’t, not in this remote stretch of country. Hotels were out of the question; they’d stick out like a sore thumb, bloodied and armed, and the enemy would be looking for them. Ghost considered his options, running through every possible safehouse and fallback in his mind. But there was only one place close enough and off-the-grid enough to keep them out of sight: his own home. A sprawling ranch, shielded by acres of private land and set far from the nearest road, it was the last place anyone would expect to find him.

The only catch was you—his wife. No one in the unit, not even Price, knew she existed. Ghost had spent years keeping her a secret, wrapping her in layers of anonymity and distance, determined to shield her from the dangers of his work. The thought of bringing the lads to his sanctuary made his skin crawl, but there was no other choice.

He could already imagine their reactions, and he wasn’t sure if he dreaded the danger or the questions more.

He pulled the battered SUV up the long gravel driveway, headlights off, every sense on high alert. The house was dark, just as it should be at this hour. Ghost unlocked the front door, ushering his exhausted men inside with a terse wave. The familiar creak of the floorboards greeted him, but so did the unexpected yelp of protest from Soap, who’d just stepped on a squeaky toy—a rubber fox, left in the hallway. Ghost’s hand shot out, steadying the other man before he could topple a lamp.