Ghost Writer Novels & Stories

Synopsis Rose has nothing. Three years inside the Quinn mansion — cooking, cleaning, invisible — while her husband waits for the woman he actually loves. When that woman walks back through the door, Rose walks out. Divorce papers signed. Suitcase in the rain. Then four black cars block an empty road. The Albert brothers have spent thirteen years searching for their kidnapped sister. The DNA doesn't lie. Rose Albert is finally home — to a family that loves her, a stepsister who wants her gone, and a name worth half a billion dollars. But the real problem has green eyes. Damien Rodriguez walks through locked doors. His reflection moves half a second behind his body. His eyes burn red in the da

An untraceable phantom known only as Ghost. Every target assigned to Ghost had ended up dead with a single, surgical puncture to the heart. No alarms tripped. No forensic evidence left behind. A true myth. Five years ago, the underworld partner I had been trading logistics networks with was murdered overnight, and rumors whispered that Ghost had been the weapon. Then, the assassin vanished completely from the grid, leaving the name to gather dust in the archives of the syndicate wars. I opened my eyes, my gaze shifting to the rear-view mirror.

But your mother's about to die—I know you'll show up. Her words jolted me back to reality. I pressed a hand to my chest, where my heart ached with a dull, numbing pain. How I wished I could tell her myself. That I've been here all along. It's just that... I've been dead for four years.

As he flipped through the yellowed old pages, he sat down on the neatly made bed and began to read, curiosity etched on his features. Don Carianno’s writing was in beautiful cursive. It looked like he took his time to scribble, dotting all his i's and crossing his t's. He flipped through the first pages, there was an entry about a new shipment, but it didn’t make sense. He could not decipher the code words. He flipped through a few more pages, and that was when he saw an entry about him. It read: "Ghost, that’s what we’re going to name him. He’s, after all, a Ghost."

Rafaelle had a sullen look as he explained. “Before that, I got the trademark of who it was. It’s Ghost.” I rubbed my jaw at the information. Now it made sense why we were having difficulty tracking the phone calls in the beginning. No one had ever seen Ghost before but he was reputed to carry out any scheme without being traceable in the least. Hence, the name Ghost. The interesting part was that Ghost didn't work for anybody and only performed a one-time task. This meant Gaetano was paying him millions to keep him around for longer.

It’s too early also, the guards won’t probably let me leave during class hour, so I stayed here. My eyes automatically shut when I felt the wind hugging my body. I heard my phone rings, I smiled when I saw that a lot of my readers have read the recent poem I just published earlier. I’m a writer, I write poems and novels ever since I found out that my passion is writing. I won’t deny the fact that a lot of people are reading my pieces on the platform where I’m writing, but they don’t know that I’m the writer behind those pieces. In a simple meaning, they just know my penname but they don’t know that I’m the one who’s writing behind my penname. It’s my choice though, I chose to be a

Hot Chapters

The Contract Of The Story Chapter 03 Social MediaThe Contract Of The Story Chapter 02 MomThe Contract Of The Story Chapter 01 Rain

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