Book About Female Assassin Novels & Stories

He confirmed this even more when he saw the results after ten years of special training. "Leader." A girl about fifteen or sixteen years old entered. The girl with a small face, sparkling chocolate eyes like stars, is extremely spiritual, with a high nose bridge, natural pink lips like sweet candy, enticing people to taste it, and silky golden hair reaching to her back. The bright red leather suit and thick high heels of the same color accentuated the girl's smooth white skin. It is hard to believe that this fragile and fragile underage girl is Fire, the number one assassin of the M organization.

I grab the book off the shelf and drop to the floor, right there in the aisle. My fingers tremble as I flip to the end. I already know what happens, but I can’t stop myself. Luke Thorne, the immortal hockey star. The one man who ever loved like he meant it. And the heroine fails him. I stare at the final panel, my tears dripping onto the page. “She let him die,” I whisper. My throat closes. “She let him die alone.” I press the book to my chest and sob, rocking back and forth like a child.

The female assassins are also known as 'Femme Fatales' they are trained to seduce the Dons into giving them their most private information before they strike and take his life. By leaving a trail of misery and disaster in their wake and ensuring that there are no diversions or liabilities, Neriman was deprived of the opportunity to begin her own family. She wanted to leave this life behind along with her twin brother, but when they were forced to do the unthinkable to save Sedar's wife, she stood by Sedar because she loved his wife Mercedes for befriending her the moment they met. It is why Neriman has become very overprotective of Mercedes and I have a feeling she will be the same with Mila

Six assassins in black emerged from the shadows, their flashlights cutting through the gloom like the eyes of hungry hyenas. With the lights focusing on her, there was no escape. The only path to survival was through them. Amber's eyes burned with determination as she charged forward. Her dagger slashed through the neck of the nearest assassin, a swift and brutal strike. She moved with desperate precision, aiming for vital points. Her unexpected ferocity startled the man, who had clearly underestimated her. His flashlight clattered to the ground, and blood gushed from his neck. Amber seized the opening, surging ahead without hesitation. After all, this might very well be her only chance. It

The look on his eyes became deadlier than ever. "She's a girl. The assassin was a. . a woman. And, she was a hired killer always disguised as a runway model. Her name was. ." The sniper coughed blood painfully like talking for so long was requiring too much of his remaining energy. "Her name was. . it was. . Zara. Zara Auclair Lavigne."

And as her ass jiggled with each step she took in her fucking pink sundress, I knew I couldn't really blame khaki shorts. Kayla was a lethal combination. She was dark honey. Sweet and irresistible, she carried an air of boldness around her, and was assertive when she needed to be. She held her ground and she was super independent. And there was an edge underneath all that sharpness, an edge of darkness that told you she was a minx in the sheets. And she was. So I couldn't blame him, but that didn’t mean every tom, dick and harry with khaki shorts could eye-fuck her in the streets.

I’m so disoriented and confused as to what’s happening and before I can even try to get up, someone is on top of me and pinning me down with something cold pressed to my throat that I can only assume is a blade. I look up at my captor, assessing them. They are slender and curvy with the frame of a woman. Their eyes are a piercing green and make me feel like my every move and expression are under scrutiny and being assessed. I don’t feel afraid for some reason, I know I should, but all I can think about was the way my parents were murdered, and I feel angry and indignant. I am NOT going to die this way. Dying this way, of all ways… That’s bullshit! I narrow my gray eyes, continuing to meet th

She had a mission to complete and needed to be in top physical shape. By day, she was a model, but by night, she was an assassin. Her father had been a member of the Mexican police force and when he was killed by one of the ruthless crime bosses in Mexico, she was left with nothing but a thirst for revenge. She had trained to become a killing machine and had taken down numerous targets with precision and efficiency. Today, she had a job to do—to take out a high-ranking member of a notorious criminal organization in Mexico City. She had received her instructions from her client and everything was in place. She was ready to strike.

According to what I found out, she's supposed to be a highly trained killer but here she is behaving like every hormonal teenage girl. Now unto my next plan. **

she said, giving a killer smile that somehow still looked playful. "Wow—so you're planning revenge? But how? You're alone, aren't you? Let me help you." "I'm not alone. I have people working for me secretly—girl assassins who act as my eyes and ears. They don't know everything about me, though—I keep my true self hidden so the enemy can't use it against me." "Is that so? Girl power—how exciting."