Ghost Wife Novels & Stories

Sashi said while continuing from writing. "Wraith? Ah, you called me once like that before. What is that anyway?" Clark ask while giving all of his attention to Sashi. "A wraith, an evil ghost. Those who died with wrong doings in life. Like that." Sashi explained. "Ahhh." They stayed like that for a while because Sashi need to finish taking some notes. Clark just observing her the whole time. "Stop staring, I can't concentrate here." Sashi said without looking at Clark.

She wanted to wake him up and see those grey eyes look at her with that confusing gaze of suspicion and heat. But then, she remembered who she was. She was the Ghost. She had a bounty on her head in three territories. The Rakan Guild owned her blood debt. If she stayed... they would find her. And they would kill him just for standing next to her. “I can’t,” she whispered, her voice cracking in the silence. She pulled away. Kornel grunted. His hand grasped at the empty space where she had been, seeking her warmth even in his sleep.

Just like the other ghosts, her skin was so pale, it was almost blue. "Who are you?" I breathed, my gaze fixed on the ghost. She scoffed, her stare unnerving. "Let me give you a clue, woman. The gravestone in front of you belongs to me," she stated. My blood ran cold in my veins, several thoughts crossing my mind. "You are... Deanna?" A slow, sardonic smile curled her lips. "That's right. I am the woman who is bitter about the fact that you stole what belongs to me," she said. Her expression shifted into total menace, her crimson eyes filled with so much hate.

I tell him meekly as I feel my fear closing in on me again, while under his gaze. His hand grips my jaw tightly as he makes me loom up at his tall figure, "To you, I'm Death. Don't ask questions," "OK-" my door suddenly opened and he was gone as Mika entered the house She saw my dad as he lay dead in a pool of blood before looking at me. I was stunned, so stunned. What had just happened within the last 15 minutes of my life? "Oh shit, Gabi," she pulled me into a tight hug as she pets my hair as my face was squished in her chest, "You can stay with me- wait, you're not crying," she pulls my head back up

“Wow, don't get me wrong but Quinn handled all her medical files.” “Quinn?* I raised a brow. “How are you so sure?” “The hacking signature. It belongs to Ghost . Quinn recruited he last year and the guy has literally vanished from the face of he Earth since then. Anything that ghost touches, is locked forever.” “Cazzo.” (Fuck) He smiled. I exasperated, leaning on the couch. I have only last option. “There a woman. Her name is Sofia, she…” I told him everything about about Sofia.

Her eyes swept across my small studio apartment with contempt. “I heard the rent for this place is ridiculously cheap. There couldn’t possibly be something wrong with it, could there?” I said flatly, “It’s quite good. It’s spacious, bright, and the neighbors are nice.” Whitley laughed exaggeratedly. “Neighbors? Would you even dare to go out at night in this building? I heard someone died here.” She was just here to gloat. I could not be bothered to deal with her. So, I turned to close the door.

The air left my lungs. The name hit me like a physical blow. Vivienne Warner. My mother. The woman whose shadow I’d been trying to peel off my skin since I arrived here. The woman whose "operation" was a polite term for a criminal empire that dealt in blood and secrets. I didn't move. I didn't breathe. I kept my face as blank as a fresh sheet of paper, even as my wolf began to paced in the back of my mind, claws out. Zara shouldn't know that name. Not in that context. To the world, Vivienne Warner was a socialite who died in a tragic accident. Only a handful of people knew she was a ghost-queen of the supernatural underworld.

The Galantes were powerful, but Camilla’s mother had been something else entirely in that moment—just a woman refusing to let her daughter be found. I understood his walls now, understood why they existed at all, but understanding didn’t stop the dread crawling up my spine. A ghost is a closed ending. A ghost can be mourned, processed, laid to rest. But a living woman… gone, hidden, still existing somewhere in the world—that wasn’t grief. That was an interruption. A story that could restart at any second. She could walk into his clinic tomorrow, she could say his name like nothing had ended, and everything I had built beside him would collapse without even asking permission.

I needed to confront the woman who claimed to be my mother. I drove like a woman possessed, rage burning through me like wildfire. When I arrived at her house, I didn’t even knock. I stormed into the house, ready to destroy everything. “Mother!” I shouted. No answer. The place was quiet…Too quiet..and then I heard it….a giggle and a moan. I followed the sound up the stairs. Please no… please no… I threw the bedroom door open and froze. There she was my beloved mother in bed with my late father’s right-hand man….Mr. Grayson.

she mumbles softly cleaning off the tears cascading down her cheeks. "I don't remember doing anything to you. If it's about our night together then I'm sorry. It was never meant to happen. I lost control and even apologized before you suddenly disappeared." The female whirls and stares intently at him. "You told your friends to rape and murder me." "Me? You're a ghost?" He asks at once shivering. "Yes, I'm a ghost. And I'm here to kill you cause you are the only one remaining." "But I didn't do such. Please believe me."