Alle Kapitel von His Ghost Knife: Kapitel 1 – Kapitel 6

Katherine's POV Pain. Blinding. Hot. Persistent. It was the first thing I felt as my eyes blinked open — not the cut on my arm, but the searing light aimed straight at my face, pinning me like prey. The room was silent, except for the faint buzzing of a faulty bulb somewhere behind the blinding beam. My vision blurred, but slowly cleared. Chains. My hands were bound in cold metal, bolted tight to the back of the wooden chair. My legs, tied cruelly with thick ropes, ached from being bent too long. My body… almost bare — stripped down to black lace panties and bra. My weapons gone. My pride ??..still intact. Were they scared of me ? I tilted my head back, ignoring the sharp sting of the bullet graze on my upper arm. I couldn't see the room clearly, but I could feel it — concrete walls, damp floors and faulty bulb . They called me Ghost Knife. But no ghost stays chained. My breathing steadied, cold and calculated. I shifted in my seat slightly, testing the flexibility i

Katherine pov .. "I planned it all," Klaus announced with that stupid, smug grin plastered across his face-like he thought he was a genius ,his mouth twitching into a dangerous smirk. I stared at him. Tall, broad-shouldered, a walking idiot in a thousand-dollar suit. I smiled. "Congrats," I drawled, stepping forward just slightly, my fingers playing with the edge of the knife . "You planned it all? Too bad your brain couldn't plan for this." Before he could blink, in one quick motion, the blade in the air left my fingers like a whisper of death. It sliced through the side of his cheek-clean, sharp, leaving a trail of blood like a red warning. He flinched, hands instinctively rising to his face before the knife embedded itself straight between the eyes of the guard behind him . The body dropped with a thud . The silence that followed was heavy. Deadly. I turned my back on him without fear. But Klaus's voice rang out immediately, sharp as gunfire. "Catch her. Bri

Katherine’s POV The cold night air slid over my bare back like a warning. My heels sank into the thick red carpet that stretched toward the massive marble entrance of the venue. The building glowed in gold light, chandeliers spilling their brilliance across the crowd. Laughter floated in the air, polite and expensive, the kind of sound people made when they were surrounded by money and wanted everyone to know they belonged here. Elijah walked beside me, his palm resting lightly against my lower back. A territorial touch. I caught the small flex of his jaw as his eyes scanned the crowd—not for beauty, not for admiration, but for threats. He was hunting while looking like the prize. My mask covered half my face, black and sharp-edged, letting only my lips and jawline show. I knew how I looked—danger in red silk, walking sin in black heels. And I knew every pair of male eyes followed me because of it. We stepped inside, and the sound doubled—music, chatter, the clinking of glasses.