Novel & Cerita Ghost's Son

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.”

My phone beeps in my pocket and I take it out and look at it just before walking into the compound. Ghost: Here. She's asleep. I push my phone back into my pocket without responding. I had left Abby with Ghost since I was needed at church. Ghost wouldn't be the only brother missing today. Ghost was one of our prospects but was patched in a year ago. He's got some demons stronger than mine, but he's made amends with them. The kill with bare hands type of amends.

I looked everywhere for Lizzy, worried that I wouldn't see her in her room. I called her for the fifth time, nothing, she didn't answer my calls. I asked Isaac about it, but got no answer. My own son ignored me. "I'm talking to you, Isaac” "I just haven't seen her, I don't know where she could be" he shrugged. "Hey, I need to talk to both of you” “Mommy? I turned and found Kelly with little Lizzy holding her hand, she had a pink balloon”

Jordan’s POV — The Knock at the Door The storm had rolled in without warning. Thunder cracked in the distance, the kind that made the whole house hum — or maybe that was just the way my chest felt when I opened the door and saw the ghost standing on the porch. My father. He wasn’t supposed to exist anymore — at least not in my world. I’d buried him years ago, the same day he packed his bags, slammed the door, and left behind a broken wife, a crying daughter, and a boy who had to grow up too fast.

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.

My half-eaten chicken salad sandwich dropped onto my plate as my eyes dilated, locking with Ghost’s gaze. “What are you going to do about my lawn?” My father interrupted our seduction. “We’ll go consult.” Ghost picked me up out of the chair and threw me over his shoulder. Swatting my ass as I cried out in surprise. My father chuckled at my distress, “Keep that up. I don’t want a spoiled daughter.” “Yes, sir.” Ghost stomped away, heading back upstairs. “Son, I’m beginning to like you a little better every day.” Ghost proved he was a loving and passionate mate the rest of the afternoon.

I whispered, “Who… who is that?” The man stepped forward into the red emergency light. Damien’s face turned white. Because the person standing behind Mason the one who disarmed him Was a ghost. A man we all thought was dead. A man who was supposed to be gone forever. Damien whispered, voice shaking: “Father…?”

"You need to come home. Your father is dying." He should have said no, and ended the call, or thrown the phone across his pathetic studio apartment, and pretended he had never heard those words. Five years ago, Patriarch Michael Thorne had stood in the grand hall of the family estate and declared his eldest son dead to the Holy Order, dead to God, and dead to the bloodline that stretched back twelve generations of exorcists. Gabriel had been seventeen, broken, and desperate for understanding that never came.

The children turned to their father who has been silent until now. It came as a shock that he finally says something, but this was not just an order or statements, but he was admitting that Paige did see ghosts, not just that, but that he was also a Diviner. "Father, do you know what you're saying, the Diviners..." He rose his hand to silence her and calmly spoke with a smile.