Novel & Cerita Catherine Pinkerton

I signaled him to come in. "Give me a rundown of Madeline's activity for the day." "She didn't do much. She did her duties at the pack mansion and went to the penal pier." I dropped the pack documents I was reading and folded my palms under my jaw. "The penal pier? What business does she still have with the penal pier?" "She visits a middle-aged woman there, Catherine by name." "What did you find about her?" I asked. "Everything about her is in this file," he replied.

The moment their eyes met, a trace of imperceptible stiffness flashed across Catherine's face. Nick took the lead in breaking the deadlock, smiling and greeting Catherine, “Great to see you again!” Catherine forced a smile and responded, “Hello. What are you doing here?” “Patricia invited me to have dinner,” Nick's eyes slowly wandered over Catherine, seeing her wearing a light pink coat, matched with a pair of dark blue jeans, and a high-collared white sweater. If someone who didn't know saw such a Catherine, they would never imagine that she was already the mother of two children.

"Don't worry. After having spent so much time with you, Mr. Parker, I've learned how to be as 'kind' as you are. I'll let you watch as your younger sister gets ruined bit by bit." After tying up Catherine, I went to the cage in the bedroom. Then, with great difficulty, I dragged the cage out. "Catherine is K, isn't she?" I asked. She was no innocent angel. That was all a facade! Catherine was a chemistry graduate, which perfectly matched K's expertise. Plus, given her brilliant mind, it was impossible she wouldn't know the kind of depravity Warren was involved in. Both Warren and Catherine remained silent. Chuckling, I remarked, "Not saying anything, huh? That's fine by me."

Katherine asked in utter disbelief, tears welling in her eyes. "What kind of man are you?" “Katherinet-" Convel began with slight impatience in his voice. "My name isn't Katherinet O'Donnelly," Katherine interrupted, her voice so cold that Convel visibly shivered. "It's Katherine Anne Scotts. My parents are George and Margaret Parker. They may not be perfect but they raised me, and I love them unconditionally. You're not my father. I already have a father, and there isn't anything you can say or do to change that."

Of course, Augustine didn't believe her, but he had no proof. So, Augustine went to the police, but Sheila had anticipated this and had already arranged for Catherine to report her whereabouts to the police, stating that her identity was special and that no one should be allowed to pry into her movements. So, in the end, Augustine learned that Catherine was not missing and that he had no right to use the police to invade her privacy. With Killian's pressure on top of that, Augustine couldn't find out where Catherine was, even using underhanded methods.

He then heaved a deep, disappointed sigh. Who wouldn’t? First, Indigo is his Battalion Commander. Next, the EIC of Ammunition School Paper is probably another boss. Now, why a boss? This person on this level of authority will most likely have a high position in the criminal business as well. I mean, why would she settle for being White if she could be another color? “Would you kindly introduce us to the writers of these two articles?” I asked Reign and she immediately agreed. BY LUNCHTIME, Reign brought us in front of a blonde, left-handed student eating a hamburger. She introduced the person, “This is Catherine McKnight, the writer of the White Trickster article.”

If there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that I would not stand idly by while someone tried to diminish my voice or undermine my autonomy. I squared my shoulders, refusing to back down in the face of Mr. McKinnon's hostility. "Firstly, I don’t need anyone's permission to talk to my own sister," I declared firmly, my voice unwavering. "Secondly, your son is the second most horrible man in the world. Obviously, you hold the title for the first. And lastly, if you were actually as good as you think you are, you wouldn't need to be so petty as to drive down here and ruin everyone's day."

“Your assistant?” Catherine didn’t flinch. She met his stare straight on, chin lifted, the way she did when she was calculating exits and angles. “Catherine Hart, Mr. Klein. Just wrapping up some filings for Ms. Peron, sir.” She looked efficient and professional. Inside, I knew her mind was racing the same track mine was: Does he know about us? Does he know I fuck her after work—my fingers buried deep in her cunt, her mouth hot and desperate on mine?