Assassination Note Novels & Stories

Conrad glared across the table at his brother. “What did the note say?” Alfred snapped bringing the conversation back to what was important. Dimitris shrugged. “You didn’t read it?” Mani scoffed. “I didn’t say that.” Was I mistaken or was there some kind of bad blood between everyone at the table? The hostility was palpable, even more so than usual. “So what did it say then?” Mani grumbled then looked over to me, “Maybe the fucking ward’s assassin friends have been killed.” “Well that was hardly subtle.” Conrad laughed, “But seriously, What did the note say?”

“Ah, dear niece, so this is what an average day in the life looks like… waltzing with your kill and staring right into their eyes right before you snuff the light out of it… brilliant!” It was obvious he wanted a reaction out of her, and on a very good day, he would have gotten nothing, but today wasn’t exactly going as planned for the plus-sized assassin. Barbara moved with a speed that would have stunned the girl she used to be. In one fluid motion, she was behind him. She didn't bother shedding the server's jacket; she simply reached beneath it. The cold steel of a ceramic knife was pressed firmly against the pulse point of his neck before he could say another word.

Sleep and exhaustion battled valiantly against the adrenaline coursing through me. A soft knock at the door startled me. It couldn’t be Cassian—he had the key. Then the maid announced herself, and I sighed, letting her in. As promised, my dinner was delivered, along with the wine we’d been drinking and a small note tucked in the corner atop a napkin. I closed the door after the maid left and picked up the note, examining its details carefully. The thin, sharp handwriting mirrored Cassian perfectly. I couldn’t help but smile at that small detail. The writing was deeply etched into the card, almost as if it wanted to tear through it with the force applied, yet it remained fluid and free of hes

And she believed in me—or at least, she had. I couldn’t let this happen. I found a quiet alley and pulled a scrap of paper from my pocket. My hands trembled as I scrawled the message, each word feeling heavier than the last. Lucan. Assassination planned at the peace talks. Trust no one. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. I folded the note tightly and sealed it with a bit of wax, slipping it into my jacket. The sound of footsteps made me freeze. My hand instinctively went to the knife at my belt, but when I turned, it was Selene stepping into view.

That morning, the shocking news reverberated across all media platforms, sending waves of disbelief around the world. Television programs, newspapers, and online outlets all carried the same headline: "Assassination at the President's Office: President Etas fatally shot by trusted aide". The uniformity of the reports, which all followed the same chronology, was striking, with not a single source challenging the narrative of President Etas' untimely demise. In stark contrast to this grim news, a more personal story was unfolding in an old but grand home. Here, Rafe and Aline were seen in a tender embrace, their affection evident in front of Rafe's parents. The atmosphere was one of familial w

Stepping on the gas, we zoomed out of the school parking lot, leaving a frightening roar behind. I massaged my forehead as I groaned, "Well, couldn’t you have said that like a normal person? I am already dealing with a venomous headache." "Venomous?" she asked, amusement evident in her tone. She kept her eyes on the road, and I could not help but think back to the time some assassins tried taking her out as she drove. This woman could kill three men in thirty seconds with one hand while the other drove. And if bullets weren’t fired, there wouldn’t be a scratch on the car.

I ask. Logan looks at Phoenix before he hands me his tablet. “Phoenix found out with whom dad’s been doing business, and it’s not good, bro. It’s not good at all.” I look at the file before me, and my expression turns to stone. “That fool! What the hell is he bloody thinking? Garland Wells is a fucking domestic terrorist. The tosser is on the goddamn FBI’s most wanted list, for christ’s sake.” Phoenix snorts in reply. “My sentiments exactly, man. In fact, he’s in the Confradia’s top ten target lists too. The only reason that he’s still alive is that none of our Assassins have been able to get close enough to kill him.”

Until then my fate is sealed as hitman. The man comes into view as he exits the bathroom and goes to stand at the end of the bed where his playmate for the night awaits him. Here's my chance, a nice clean shot. With one tug of the trigger and my untraceable bullet entered through the right side of his skull and out the left leaving his limp body falling on the hysterical and scared sh*tless young lady wearing nothing but red lingerie. She was screaming to the top of her lungs with fear and confusion closing in on her.

Where she would be completely vulnerable. And written beside the route in code I was beginning to recognize. "Final target confirmed. Eliminate during evening rounds. Poison prepared." The note was dated today. Someone was planning to kill Maya. Tonight. And we had no idea who they were or which of the dozens of people in the medical wing might be the assassin.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable. I have so many questions. And I’m sure you have many for me. Oh my goodness, where are we going to even start.” “Um, well, as much as I’d like to just spend hours talking about Mom’s life,” I started as I settled onto the couch, “unfortunately, there’s certain information that we need to focus on. As you may know, Mom left me a note telling me a bit about what happened that forced her into hiding.” “You want to know who was behind the assassination,” Korinna surmised. “Yeah,” I confirmed. Korinna let out a long deep breath. “I never read her letter to you,” she said. “How much did she tell you?”