Peter Hale Novels & Stories

Just a name. Ask Viktor what happened to his first lawyer. Before Hale. His name was Peter Sands. I stared at it. Peter Sands disappeared eighteen months ago. Right after he told Viktor the Conti deal was too clean.

Peter couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation as the inspector began to speak. Inspector: Mr. Peterson, I'm Inspector Parker. We've been investigating the circumstances surrounding Sheila's death, and I believe we have some promising leads. Peter: (leaning forward, his eyes filled with determination)Tell me everything, Inspector. Inspector Parker pulled out a file and placed it on the desk, opening it to reveal photographs and evidence. Peter's heart sank as he saw the lifeless image of Sheila, a once vibrant woman reduced to a mere victim. Inspector Parker started . "We have reason to believe that George and Caleb were involved in Sheila's murder. Their fingerprints were found at

(Fabian's POV) “Good morning, sir,” Peter greeted, bowing slightly before turning to the others. “Good morning, everyone.” I didn’t waste any time.“Peter, tell everyone everything you’ve gathered about what happened last night.” “Yes, sir,” he replied calmly and opened his folder. The room fell completely silent as everyone waited for him to speak. “Based on our investigation, Dr. Hale was drugged last night via her last drink,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “It was a careful and deliberate act meant to make her weak and unstable.”

I am not afraid of anything. Behind me, I feel Alexander before I hear him. His presence has always been like that quiet, overwhelming, impossible to ignore. The faint scent of his cologne reaches me as he steps closer, his suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up like he’s just come back from war. Because in many ways, he has. “They’ve confirmed it,” he says calmly. “Hale’s last offshore account has been frozen.” I close my eyes. Richard Hale is finally finished. Not arrested yet. Not dead. But powerless.

He opened his eyes to find his hand cuffed and weapons confiscated. He then saw her, sat on an easy chair with a glass half full of alcohol. "You're finally awake, Mr. Chandler." He half smiled when he saw the files on the table beside her. She continued, now sure of the information she got from the Elder.

"Alpha, Nicholas. While I don't know him on a personal level, I do know who he is." Everyone's attention falls on my mate as Nick signals for her to carry on while my gut twists and already I have absolutely no doubt that whatever she's about to tell us next will result in me ending that prick's life. "His name is Talon Beckham. He's one of the leaders of the... pack, and unfortantly, he is my mate." Yeah, he's going to die!

Then when she agrees I will kill her in front of her brother. “ Here he is sir” the door flung open and the boney boy wearing dirty ragged looking clothes stepped into the room with his head down. His red hair is a mess and you can smell his rotting clothes and bad breath miles away. “ Hmmm, I have a very important role for you.” I grinned sitting on the desk “ what is that?” He mumbled coughing up whatever gross disease he’s managed to catch in the cellar

a male voice asked, formal, detached. “Yes.” “This is Officer Reynolds. I’m calling in regard to a man named Victor Hale. The owner of this phone.” My stomach tightened. Victor. My henchman. “What about him?” I asked carefully. “I’m sorry to inform you that Mr. Hale was found dead early this morning.” The room tilted. I inhaled slowly, forcing my expression to remain neutral even though no one could see me. “Dead?” I echoed. “Yes. And our records show you were one of the last people he contacted and one he contacted frequently. We’ll need you to come in for questioning.”

"I don't sleep when someone's hunting us." "I know. That's why I'm here." I cross the room and drop into the chair across from his desk. "What did you uncover?" He tilts back, and the chair groans. "Thomas Halbert is real. He's been breathing under a different name for two decades. Thomas Hale. Private security contractor. He's disciplined. He's skilled. And he's been coiled in the dark, waiting." "Waiting for what?"

Aaron hung back as if he wanted a private word. “Is it true? Is he dead?” he asked, his features searching mine for answers. It seemed as if Peter was haunting us from beyond the grave. On the night he tried to lure Isobelle out of the cabin, the double-crossing snake emailed a folder full of snapshots and voice recordings to some ex-congressional representative in New York. That guy was a member of The Order, and he wasted no time in giving a little exposé about Whitehaven.