Ghost's Son Novels & Stories

Following my father's directions, the cars wound through twisting back roads until they reached a desolate graveyard. "There, Adeline. You wanted to see Samuel? He's right here." My father's face was etched with deep, weary lines. After speaking those words, he seemed to drain of all strength, slumping forward and resting against my headstone. My black-and-white photo stared back from the marker. But Adeline just fixed her cold gaze on the tombstone, her eyes brimming with unmistakable disgust. She lashed out without warning, slapping my father hard across the face.

Despite my flesh rotting away, my soul did not dissipate. I experimented a bit and found that my soul could only stick close to my mother, Jean, or my brother, Tanner. The sight of my body didn’t draw tears out of Jean Blue. Instead, she froze for a moment before giving Tanner a call. Like a child who did something wrong, she was eager to find someone to lean on. “Graham’s dead. “His belly had sunk in. I locked him in the cellar and forgot to bring him food. He starved to death.

Ghost simply got the job done. My jaw tightened. “The timing…” Nico nodded his head before I even finished the sentence. “That’s exactly what caught my attention.” Ghost had disappeared for nearly two weeks. During that same time, my security firm detected an attempted breach that nearly got through. Then Ghost vanished. Now Ghost was back. Ash growled. “That isn’t a coincidence.” No… It wasn’t. Nico leaned closer to the keyboard, his fingers moving quickly across the keys. “I might be wrong,” he said, “but if I had to bet…” He pointed toward the monitor. “I’d say Ghost took the contract job.”

“Well aren't you a cheeky child? You take after me with your wit!” “Uncle, can you teach me more witty words so I can say those to my mom?” He awkwardly laughed and did not respond to his request. He knew that if his father hears Eon saying those words, he'll be diced. Shortly after, a black Jeep Wrangler entered the gates and drove to the front entrance of the mansion. Chase alighted the car and immediately saw his son with Zacharias Lohr, her wife's only cousin.

The truth was, The Ghosts had a reputation in the city, one that left everyone afraid of them. This was enough for Josh to realize that they were trouble. Their presence alone had everyone on edge. Josh glanced at Mateo, who was already eyeing the newcomers with a look of pure irritation. “And this party just got less enjoyable,” Mateo muttered under his breath. However, Reaper heard him. His smirk vanished, replaced by a coldness. Looking at Antonio with a look of recognition, Reaper glared at him, saying,”You got a problem?” He asked taking a step over to where Mateo, Josh and Leo were standing.

The city never sleeps. Shadows and neon signs softly whisper along its streets, a million voices carried in the darkness of alleys where the light cannot penetrate. This evening, I wasn't Sebastian Novair, crime lord or businessman. Tonight, I was the son of a ghost—pursuing the man who had given me life only to curse me. The Monsignor, they called him. My father. Silence for 15 years. I never wanted to exhume his name after 15 years of burying it like a corpse. Corpses escape burial, don't they? They push up, bringing dirt and worms, until they're grinning in your face.

Beatrice was thorough enough to scrub every trace of her son’s involvement, but she wasn't quite meticulous enough to save herself. I haven't heard from Ghost in a while. I need to call him to ensure he hasn't abandoned the assignment. I expected a delivery by now. While Jordan is bound by the constraints of legal discovery, Ghost operates as a shadow agent—utilizing any means necessary to secure results. Dad’s secretary holds the door open as we reach the vehicle. Before sliding in, Dad reaches out and firmly pats my shoulder. “You’re doing well, son. Keep it up.” “Yes, sir.”

Ryder closed the distance between them, concern etched on his features, “You’re driving through these paths, meeting all these people and you’re going to tell me you don’t remember anything, Jason? Anything at all?” His jaw hardened, and his bluish-grey eyes shot daggers at Ryder, “My name is Ghost for the last time...” “What the hell is Ghost? Really? Do you think your mother named you Ghost? Do you not wonder about your past? Your family? You’re not a Carianno...” “Don’t you dare speak about my fa...” He said through gritted teeth. Three black cars, pulled up behind them suddenly, drawing their attention to it.

Clad in armor that seemed to glow with spectral light, the rider wielded a whip that crackled with dark energy. "It's him," Silas whispered, his voice trembling with recognition. "It's my father." The others turned to Silas, shock and confusion etched on their faces. "Your father?" Marinetta asked, trying to piece together the implications. Silas nodded, his eyes never leaving the ghostly figure. "He died many years ago, but it seems his spirit has returned, driven by a need for vengeance." The ghost rider dismounted, moving towards them with a menacing grace. Silas stepped forward, his heart heavy with a mix of dread and determination.