Female Assassin Aesthetic Novels & Stories

Everyone in Harbor City knows that the city's prince, Brandon Schmidt, is a devoted husband. Countless homewrecker wannabes are dealt with before they can even reach me. But one day, I see Brandon's text conversation with one of his mistresses. "You're going to open up for me tonight." "It's so embarrassing to be doing this on your wife's bed." Meanwhile, my arm is shattered from dealing with one of his competitors. The conversation makes my stomach turn. So be it, then. No one's getting off easy now.

My brother-in-law passed away in an accident. Out of pity for his widow, my husband decided to be the breadwinner for both families. After that, my husband and son both gave all their love to my widowed sister-in-law. On her birthday, my husband and son reserved a restaurant in town for her party. I was plucking corn in the field when I started bleeding, a sign that I was miscarrying. I called my husband, begging him to come home and take me to the hospital. However, he scolded me angrily, calling me a liar. “What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t touched you in months! How could you be pregnant?” My son grabbed the phone impatiently as well. “Mom, the teacher said lying is wrong! Aunt Laura’s blowing out the candles now, bye!” We had been married for seven years, yet they had completely forgotten that today was my birthday too. Despairing, I dialed another number. “Mother, I changed my mind. I’m going back to inherit the clinic.”

Ariel and I married into the Jahn family—and got knocked up around the same time. I landed Edmond, the older brother and a hotshot forensic pathologist. She got Philip, the cop. At six months pregnant, I started bleeding. Instead of rushing me to the ER, Edmond dragged me into an OR. "Keyla was in a car crash. Messed up her leg. Whatever this is, deal with it later. Help her first." Ariel tried yanking me out, but Philip was already outside, blocking the door. "Keyla's the patient. If you've got an ounce of medical ethics, you'll save her." We were trapped. So, we did the surgery. Then Keyla had someone cut us open and dump our bodies in the woods. We died hating them all. Edmond and Philip didn't figure it out till they dug us up—too little, way too late.

I've been in a long-distance relationship with Xavier Harrington for four years. Every time we meet up with each other, the first thing he says to me is, "You've gotten fatter… and shorter." When my friend finds out about it, she jokes to me, "Maybe he has another girlfriend who's taller and thinner than you." It's supposed to be a joke, and yet I take it seriously. It explains why I've decided to travel a span of 1,800 miles just to seek Xavier out at the city he's stationed to. But that's when I accidentally stumble upon Xavier going on a stroll with a young woman side by side. I trail behind them, only to see them going to a cafe that's filled with people. There, they line up so that they can snap commemorative photos. However, whenever Xavier's hanging out with me, he often turns my suggestions down impatiently. To him, lining up at such places is a waste of time. Later on, Xavier and the woman secure a table in a restaurant. There, Xavier pulls out a chair for her before he starts setting out the cutlery for her. Even when the food is served, he will subconsciously push the woman's favorite dish in her direction. For the first time ever in our relationship of eight years, I find out that Xavier can be caring when he feels like it. I watch as Xavier chats animatedly with the woman at the table. He shares everything with her, be it the irritating experiences at work or the funny and interesting incidents that have happened to him so far. Then, I lower my head to look at the short text messages Xavier has sent to me in the past. "Time for work. It's lunch time. I'm about to nap." Suddenly, I find my relationship with Xavier extremely boring, so I dig out the invitation sent by my company regarding their outstation request and tap on it. After all, I no longer want anything to do with this flawed relationship anymore.

"Look your too weak I can't accept you as a mate you'll only shame yourself and this pack " my own mate said to me . . . . My mate rejected me on my eighteen birthday and the day after my own parents was backing him, so to telI you the truth I couldn't handle that but as much as I cried over it I knew the reason he did it tho, every pack has a trial or test that the alpha's mates has to take in order to become the Luna of the pack I know it sounds stupid but that's the law that the alpha king declared after the war that took place, most alpha lost there mate because they weren't able to defend them self or the pack so to put it simple if I don't have strength and knowledge I can't be Luna Being the alphas reject mate was not a pretty repetition for me, especially since i know that there's gonna be contest to pick out the most fairest she- wolf of them all while I'll be at home sulking about it, so in that instance I made up my mind and left the pack and everyone behind as well. After that I found myself being Something I never dreamed of 'a hunter' and not just any hunter but 'an assassin hunter' never have I heard of a werewolf being a hunter much less an omega, most would have laughed but now I'm feared. After four years of my disappearance I was sent on mission back to my old pack, somewhere i never dreamed of seeing again but here i was seeing the people i once called family and the place i once called home

She's craving for him and he wants her too. Jason Duncan and Lucy Smith are childhood sweethearts who later got seperated due to relocations ,however they meet again in America as boss and secretary and also as assassin and targeted.

"Behold!" The Priestess yelled above the noise of the crowd. It became deathly silent. She could feel the malevolent eyes of the crowd on her and she didn't know why. "The Fox!" Cassidy let out a yip of horror that echoed in the silent village. A Fox Shifter. Cassidy was a Fox. Terror coursed through her smaller body. In all her pleading with the Moon Goddess, she had never thought she would be so terribly cursed. She would be torn limb from limb by the crowd. Shifting to the Fox was a death sentence. Neither prey nor an apex predator, the Fox was an outlier in Shifter society. The crowd roared as one as the High Priestess lifted her. "Run Cassidy, no-clan, and know that pain is only temporary." She whispered softly, before tossing Cassidy into the waiting crowd. All Cassidy had ever wanted was to survive her first Shift. If she didn't end up as prey, all the better. As the illegitimate child of the aging Alpha, and daughter of a rabbit shifter drudge, Cassidy knew the world was an unfair place for those who were not born predator. No one expected Cassidy to be a fox, least of all her. Reviled and feared by predator and prey alike, fox shifters were cast out from home and clan, into the wilderness. If they were lucky. And Cassidy had never been all that acquainted with luck. Rejected by her clan, beaten and broken, left for dead...Cassidy welcomed the darkness. But death will have to wait for her just a little longer. The Lycan King has need of a new assassin, and Cassidy is forced into his world of intrigue, politics, and romance.

We were enemies in disguise waiting for the perfect moment to strike first. A mafia and an assassin, each with orders to end the other. By day, I’m a quiet IT analyst. By night, the deadliest mafia in the underground. Only Isabella Moretti sees through me, the perfect manager everyone idolizes and the princess of a powerful assassin clan. Until one day, a baby is left on my doorstep and unknown men comes after it. Forced into alliance, we fight side by side in the dark while pretending we don’t want each other dead. Every other mission I’ve ever taken was easy. One clean kill and done. But nothing has ever prepared me for the most dangerous and unexpected thing I've ever faced… Falling for the woman I swore to destroy.

My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment. Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital. He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway. At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, Sabrina. The penthouse in Ashbourne City is yours." I burn the divorce agreement—and that's when he finally shows his true colors. He freezes all my accounts and launches a hostile takeover of my gallery. On the night the storm hits, I get a call from the hospital. My sister, Roberta Slater, has been in a car crash—she needs emergency surgery. In the security footage, he stood there, watching coldly. "Sign the papers, or start planning a funeral." I dropped to my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor, blood trailing down my face as I begged, "Micah, please… don't…" A long, flat beep echoed from the other end of the line, slicing through the sound of rain. Then a voice on the line says, "We did everything we could." However, I have gone back in time—to the day I first found out about Rowena. This time, I no longer cry. Instead, I plan my divorce on my own terms. I call Valebrook Bank that same night and begin preparing for a quiet disappearance. But the moment I truly vanish from his world, Micah loses his mind.

As soon as I get off the surgical table after my miscarriage, my husband, Presley Quinn, sends me a text message. "You were ten cents short when you paid your share of the power bill this month. Transfer the money to me immediately." I can only sit on the cold bench in the hospital on my own. The anesthesia has yet to wear out, but my belly is already hurting so much that I can practically feel it constricting on itself. The next thing I know, a new post appears on my social media homepage. It's a post made by Vivienne Ashford, the intern Presley is in charge of tutoring. In the photo, Vivienne can be seen holding a bouquet of flowers folded from money bills. A bright and radiant smile blooms on her face. The four-leaf clover necklace adorning her neck is the same necklace I've seen in Presley's purchase history two days ago. The caption of the photo writes, "I don't want a lot of money. I want a ton of love instead." Only then do I remember that today is Valentine's Day as well as my fifth-year anniversary with Presley. Over the past five years, Presley and I have been splitting every single bill, down to two decimal places. If I take a shower for more than 20 minutes, Presley demands that I pay extra for the water heater's power bill. When I cook myself some supper in the middle of the night, Presley wants me to split the gas bill generated by the stove. Even when my mom is hospitalized due to kidney failure and is waiting for her surgical bills to be settled, Presley refuses to lend me a single cent. Instead, he sends me a few links leading to web loans. As I stare at the social media feed, I chuckle all of a sudden. It turns out that Presley does know how to spend money. It's just that he doesn't have the heart to spend it on me. I smile once again as I leave a like on the post. Then, I transfer the ten cents to Presley. From now on, I don't owe him any single penny.