Blackass Novel Summary Novels & Stories

Joe revved the truck and careened through the driveway. I grabbed onto the dashboard. “What’s happening?” Joe let out a sigh. “She was part of my previous life…before I came back.” He paused. “I’m not sure how to say this, so I’m just going to say it. We are highly trained and skilled assassins for a government-backed organization.” He stopped and glanced at me. “Oh shit,” Alec said in the backseat, he held on for dear life as Joe maneuvered through the streets.

I need to remember not to get in my head. For the last few weeks, I haven’t been Blackheart. I’ve been Alina. Because of everything with Alec, I’ve spent time being more myself than I ever planned to, and I’ve gotten comfortable. Usually, I’m good at going from being myself to being the cold-hearted assassin everyone knows and fears, but this entire Grigoras mess has made me deviate from my normal routine in more ways than one and let’s be honest, Alec has definitely messed with my head and my vagina, though one I enjoyed more than the other.

I take a few pictures of the chemical formula I have written on one side of the whiteboard, as I don’t want to lose the progress on the cocktail I was working on, place the pictures in my office, and then come back and clean the board. I stick some of the pictures from Silas’ dossier and mine to the board and begin writing down the details we already know, including a timeline of events. All the while, I can hear Silas on the phone in the other room speaking to someone in Austrian. I have no idea what he’s saying, as Austrian is one of the few languages I don’t know, but I do like his idea. Silas says that much like with our own personal lines of work, the chances of this person doing this b

I don't want anything from anyone. My sister was dead. The thought kept circling in my head, over and over, like a song I couldn't stop playing. Dead. Zylara was dead. Gone. Never coming back. Even when I'd been working as an assassin all these years, there was never any threat on my sister or me. It was always a clean job - get in, do what needed to be done, get out. Nobody ever came after me. Nobody ever knew who I was. So why is Cassius's situation different? Why do I have to suffer for his bad work? For his mistakes?

Chapter 63: Left Knee Or Right Nico's POV We track Boris to a quiet dacha on the edge of Macau. An old safe house that would seem unoccupied if we didn’t know he was in there right now. Sasha drives. I ride shotgun, watching the snow-dusted pines slide past the windows. Neither of us speak much. We don’t need to, actually. We took three more days to dig into what we had. The offshore accounts. The call logs. The CCTV stills of him handing envelopes to my father’s driver. Boris has been bleeding the Bratva for almost a year.

You wouldn't know their weak points nor where to hit. ‎ That must've been why Kael felt frustrated trying to trigger him. ‎ ‎Good job, Alyssa. You just had a near death experience but survived by turning in an application for becoming the amusement of a psychotic, sadistic barbarian who, turns out, is the head of one of the most dangerous organisation in the state and you might not even be able to make it to the end of year. ‎One wrong move and your head might be gifting space in all it's bloodied glory while you watch in high spirits.

I nod, “Since I have to be visible, I’ll assign myself to their tables and make vague comments. But we have to give them a chance to get me alone and allow them to strike.” He nods. “That’s why we need everyone to come in and plan this carefully.” As soon as he walks away, my mind keeps spinning with possible plans. There are so many things to consider. Within the hour, every Assassin within the vicinity is once again sitting at the conference table. I look around with amazement; Priest, Corbin, Dragon, Stryker, Cameron, Jaxon’s niece, Valkyrie, a Scotsman who is ironically named Scotty, Phanthom and Heathen join our group. Phantom is the strong, quiet type, while Heathen is a loud, rugged c

I didn’t understand it. I waited for him in the library, absentmindedly flipping through a book that told the heroic tales of the previous Alphas of Black River that guarded their stolen land against the evil intruders, even though they started as intruders. A conqueror's tale, I snorted, slamming it shut. I wondered how many of these books actually told an unbiased account, but I doubted many, at any of the packs, did. I felt him edge closer. I could hear his soft steps on the carpet now, but still only barely.

I took a step back, but my spine immediately hit Asher’s massive, rock-hard chest. Asher’s large hands came down onto my waist, his long fingers digging into my skin right through the fabric of my navy blue blazer. He leaned down, his rough chin scraping against the sensitive skin of my neck as he growled low in his throat. "You think you're just an accountant to us, doll? Look at your hand. You're wearing our master encryption keys. You ran the numbers that broke your ex-husband. You watched us kill the Romanovs last night without blinking. You’re already a Blackwood. Your blood is just the last piece of the puzzle."

🌹 A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR 🌹 This is Book Two in the ‘Entangled’ series, and it continues the story after the events of Book One titled—Bound to the Mafia Lord. While you can read this book on its own, I strongly recommend reading Book One first for a clearer understanding of the characters, relationships, history, and events that have already taken place. There are several names and references throughout this book that were introduced in the previous story. But if you’ve decided to start here… welcome anyway. 🤭❤️