Nick Carter Killmaster Books Novels & Stories

The most recent update consisted of the Massage Room closing and its connection with the murder victim. The third drawer, almost empty, contained three folders only, one marked ‘CAIRO NICKOLLS’, one ‘ROBERT TREFOIL’, and the other ‘BERNARD CATTERALL.’ Each folder embraced their lifestyles and their movements. They all included a photograph of each individual and there was one spare in a sealed envelope. I looked at them all carefully. The first was of Nickolls, sitting at a table outside the Waggoner’s Rest. He had a pint of lager beside him and he was totally unaware that he was being photographed from a point of about twenty feet.

Nick growled, his voice low and lethal. Mila’s smirk faltered, but she tried to hold onto it. “Nick, please. Are you really going to believe her? She can’t prove a thing—” “Funny you should say that,” I interrupted, my voice cutting through the room like ice. Her head snapped toward me, and I gestured toward the bookshelf. The tiny red light blinked. Josh stepped forward, his voice cold. “We have your confession, Mila. Every single word.” The fear she’d tried to bury came rushing back, raw and real, as the truth settled over her like a noose. Her lips parted in a soundless gasp as Nick stepped toward her, his dominance crashing over the room like a storm.

Before he could execute his plan to kill Nathan, Carter forced him to pause by cutting off his money supply. "No problem. I was planning to use some hired goons to kill you. But it's ok. You are so lucky that i am coming to kill you, the great David Black" he laughed with evilness.

Inspector Ken supported him so that he doesn’t fall. “Students please take him away and call a doctor immediately.” Inspector Ken called some students who took the principal away. “Modus operandi is same as the Charlotte’s case,” Inspector Kenneth said to his assistant on which Miguel nodded “Possible serial killing, it could be the same killer…” Miguel stated “Perhaps” Inspector Kenneth said nodding “It’s sad” Nick said in a sad tone “yes, it is sad but timing was right. Now Gina is saved from those awful stupid dancing.” Rocky said giggling

Four of them total. Three are Silver Hunters, and the fourth ... is Sara Khalek. A gasp flies from my lips, and Davis shifts into his wolf form. "Sara." I rush to her side and feel her cheek. She's cold. She's been dead for many hours, maybe for days. Davis sniffs one of the bodies, his wolf lips curling back. "She put up a good fight." His bass werewolf voice echoes in the small room. I close my eyes against the tears. "Are there any others in here?"

I walked to the table and accidentally dropped the folders as I saw a man's silhouette caused by the light coming through the glass windows. The light got switched on, and my eyes adjusted to its brightness. I looked up at the man holding the remote control light switch. He was tall and seemed to have a good social standing because of his clothes and posture. His fair and flawless white skin was surprisingly hot and attractive for a man—a drop-dead gorgeous man with his dark brown eyes scrutinizing me. And then I realized that his face resembled the late president's. "Who are you?" he asked in a deep masculine voice, sending me a jolt of fear.

The other end of the call went ghost for a few seconds before Carl asked, " I noticed?" "Is there anything you want to share with me?" Grandmaster asked calmly. "Not that I am aware of." Carl said. "Nothing about the Glacier Cartel?" Grandmaster shot the hint. "Hmm, what did you hear, Pops?" Carl asked. "Well, we'll talk when you get home, I don't want to interrupt your meeting." Grandmaster said. "I do not have….." Carl started to deny, only to be interrupted by his secretary. "You were saying?"

His knuckles brushed her collarbone. She caught his wrist before he could pull away. His pulse was there, under her thumb. Faster than she expected. "Talk to me," she said. "About what." "Anything. Something that's not about us. I need—" She exhaled. "I need to not think for a few minutes." He hesitated. His wrist was still in her hand. Then he started talking. Not about them. About Nietzsche. A madman with a lantern. "I seek God," the madman cried. "Where has God gone?"

James furrowed his brow, shouting angrily, “What’s the meaning of this?” Lisa cowered behind him, her face pale with fear. The audience, who had moments ago been hurling insults at me, fell silent, exchanging confused glances as they watched the scene unfold. I walked forward unhurriedly, my tone calm as I spoke. “Apologies for disrupting your celebration, everyone. However, Miss Lisa Smith is under investigation for attempted murder, and Mr. James Fletcher is being charged with assault for publicly attacking and injuring me. I’ve already handed over all the evidence to the authorities and will be pressing charges against both of them.”

The attitudes of businessmen and mafia such as cunning, deceit, and manipulation, as well as power struggles, gang feuds, he had seen and experienced all of them himself. And the most terrifying of them all is the one who has everything. Money, power, and connections, but remains calm, just like a crocodile swimming in water that does not cause any ripples. So quiet, yet so deadly. That's how he see him, Zachary Dawson. The young master, who will soon inherit all of his father and grandfather's property and will have the title of Master Dawson. What he admires about Zachary Dawson is his tenacity, commitment and intelligence. He seems so perfect. That's what makes him scary in the eyes of hi