Ghost's Son Novels & Stories

I gasped, bolting upright from the couch. Ghost burst through the back door, cloak flying behind him, wild-eyed for the first time since I’d met him. His gloves were off. That meant shit had gone sideways. “They found me,” he growled. “We need to go. Now.” “What do you mean they found you?!” Vittorio wheeled forward, face stone-hard, trying to rise from the couch. Ghost slammed the door shut behind him. “They followed me. I didn’t see it at first—shit—they must’ve caught me when I visited Franco’s daughter.”

My father was shocked, as if he hadn't quite grasped the words. "What?" His assistant said again, "I've tried every method, checked everywhere he might've gone. There's no sign of Jason." A frown pulled at my father's face, the first trace of unease flickering in his eyes.

I sighed and prepared to microwave a box of macaroni and cheese. But when I turned around, I spotted a note pressed under something on the table. It was in Nathaniel’s familiar handwriting, though this time, his note held a hint of cold anger. [Wasteful.] I was stunned for a moment before I burst out laughing. This ghost was not just a good cook, but he was also thrifty and responsible. I liked that. I immediately picked up a pen and wrote back. [My bad, Nat. It’s just a joke. Let’s just stick to homemade food from now on. I won’t bring up that extravagant nonsense again, okay?]

Money laundering, part of a syndicate. I rise from the desk and scan the room again. On the shelves to the right, framed photos are lined up. His father appears in most of them, older and always dressed in suits. But what draws my eye is one photo near the end. Ghost’s father is standing beside a man I don’t recognize, and that man is holding a little girl’s hand. I step closer and narrow my eyes. It’s her. It’s Catherine. Maybe a teen, standing beside a man who might be her father. Standing beside Ghost’s father.

Brandon has appeared out of nowhere; he’s standing just behind Gideon with Low and he’s watching me like I’m some kind of fascinating show. “Ghost has no pups, no mate and his momma has two other sons. He’s also not interested in you in the slightest other than your skills at killing; you need backup, and he’s who you get.” Brandon says as he crosses his arms over his chest. Gideon nods along with what he’s saying so I know I don’t have room to argue.

"Craig, son. You need to save your dad and the throne. Hurry. Time is ticking." I blinked in bewilderment and my heart hammered in my chest. Did she just call me her son? "Who the fuck are you?" She turned her back and disappeared. Frightened beyond measure, I woke up, panting heavily, my body filled with sweat. My mind raced, and the encounter with the ghost left me unsettled. How could a ghost call me her son when my real mother was alive? My eyes tore open, doubling in size when I spotted a shadow at the door.

But that fleeting moment of hope is crushed instantly. “Boys, enter,” Ghost’s father calls out, his voice sharp and commanding. I groan quietly, my jaw clenching. Of course, I can’t escape him. Ghost strides ahead, his smugness oozing as he glances back at me with that infuriating smirk.

a voice rasped from the darkness. An older man stepped into the light. He was thin, dressed in a sharp but dated charcoal suit, his hair white and slicked back. He was the Silver Patriarch—the man the city’s underworld called The Ghost. "My father is dead," I said, my voice cracking but firm. "Whatever you think I owe you, I don't have it." The Ghost chuckled, a sound like dry leaves skittering across pavement. "Oh, Lena. I don't want your money. I want the man who used us to get it."

“That is the spirit. But tell me, Adrian, do you even know where it is?” Adrian didn’t answer. Because for the first time in years, he was faced with something even he hadn’t accounted for. A legacy his parents had left behind. And a war that was only just beginning. So, let me also ask you this. Is Ghost among those who killed my parents or do you know anything about it? Specter frozed on his seat, his hands shaking secretly he doesn't expect Adrian to ask that kind of question. Adrian saw his reaction but decided to keep quiet, he h da so already gotten his answer.

She was screaming his name, her voice high and jagged with terror. Goddess, no. A physical weight hit me in the chest, stopping me mid-stride. I doubled over, gasping for air as a phantom pain ripped through my heart. It felt like I was being hollowed out. It was a link I hadn't known existed—a tether snapping. Zack was dying. Zack’s POV Leo. That was the last thought. My son growing up with a ghost for a father. Growing up in a world of wolves and monsters without a shield. The rage at my own stupidity hit me harder than the water.