Hidden Assassin Mga Nobela at Kwento

My brother asks as we make our way into the garage’s living area. Years ago, Priest converted an old warehouse in the outskirts of Manhattan to rehab cars. He lived there until he met his wife Sage and lost his best friend, the now-deceased former Confradia tech, Hunter Cohen. Before I came around, Hunter was the Confradia’s prime hacker. Now, I’m one of their top techs. But unlike Hunter, I trained and became an assassin. After Hunter’s death, the garage was used by visiting Confradia Assassins to stay at and for Confradia meetings.

Looking through the scope of the magnified glass attached to her weapon, she held her breath as the chest of one of her target’s bodyguards appeared on the crisscross mark, which was immediately followed by the bald head of the yakuza boss. She moved the gun slightly once more to the right while maintaining the crisscross mark on his head before she squeezed the trigger. A second passed before the man dropped like a log, which prompted his men to instinctively draw out pistols from their inner jackets as they scanned the area for where the bullet came from. Kimberly immediately returned the gun and leather gloves into her suitcase before making her way out of the building through the emerge

she whispered, reclaiming control, drawing back but leaving the taste of temptation hanging between them. He straightened, shoulders stiff, gaze blazing. “I’ve heard whispers… of an order. Shadow Assassins.” His voice dropped lower, reverent, fearful. “They deal only in death. No trace, no trail. Their contracts vanish like smoke. Ancient, older than any court. Once sworn, they never fail.” Veronica’s breath quickened, excitement cutting through her fury. “Shadow Assassins…” She let the name roll across her tongue like a spell. “Whispered in corners, but never seen.”

Elina POV The car was too quiet. Too still. As if the silence itself feared him. I sat pressed against the door, heart beating so loud it echoed in my ears. Aziel Valerie King. The name alone sent chills down spines in the underground. They said he was the ghost behind a hundred assassinations, the architect of gang wars that left the entire group extinct. The man who smiled while blood spilled at his feet. They said Aziel didn’t just kill, he erased them from the face of earth. And I’d watched it happen. No hesitation, no flicker of humanity..just a bullet and silence.

Gabriel said, “I didn’t much want to be alive. Ten years of waiting, not knowing if the pull would ever lead anywhere. So I found the most dangerous work I could.” She waited. “I was an assassin, Honor. A professional killer. I took contracts — targets — and I eliminated them. That was my life for the better part of a decade.” She stopped walking. He stopped too, hands in his pockets, and let her look at him. Let her take the time she needed to put it together, to decide what she thought of it. He’d learned enough about her to know that rushing her to a reaction she hadn’t fully formed would only make it worse.

My body shivers from shame; not only did I make myself look like his fiancée, but I went against my word from ten years ago. I slid some strand of my hair behind my ear, squeezing my bag with my other hand. “Don’t play fool with me, Alexa Côté. You applied for this job, what’s your mission?” Everything freezes at that moment; my heart beating drums in the confines of my chest. I have to act normal, I need to be normal. He’s one of the hardest people to go through. If I need to remain in this house and find my father’s murderer, I need him to not know that I have a mission.

I nodded and gave her a hug before hurrying out of the school compound, driving until I reached a local grocery store which held a fading neon sign reading, The Place. As a hideout for an organization which trains people to become assassin's, that name should sound suspicious to anyone. I carefully pushed the glass door causing a bell sound to echo throughout the whole grocery shop. My eyes quickly drafted to Derick who was dressed in a yellow short sleeves and blown short khakis who sat behind the cashier desk. Derick is more the cashier of The Place and also like security for our organization. He is twenty seven years old and has been working here since he was sixteen. He has a slender bui

it feels like this peace is too fragile, too perfect. I can’t shake the feeling that something is coming. Something bad. THIRD PERSON’S POV Back in the city, in an abandoned garage near the outskirts of town, Camille straps weapons into a black van. Ammunition clips snap into place. Beside her, a man, an assassin, in all black studies a map pinned to the van’s dashboard. Red circles. Coordinates. Timelines. “The cabin is isolated,” the assassin says without looking up. “Minimal visibility. Three exits. One unguarded. We strike soon.”

Her first instinct was to call for help, but the intercom remained silent. Then she realized someone had been tailing her in the shadows—a figure clearly not part of the game's NPC cast. Panicked, she had dialed Carter. The escape room was cramped and dim, riddled with blind spots that even surveillance cameras couldn't cover. It was a perfect place to hide killers. And there wasn't just one assassin lurking there. Not two either. There were five. The strangers she'd joined—men and women alike—had all been assassins. They were prepared, equipped with night-vision goggles.

If the sewing machine’s purpose is to sew, the knives on their hands have only one mission: to kill the Edler’s dog. The number of assassins implies the intention of tonight's visit. However, it was only Edgar, who knows that he was their target. It was because he could sense that these assassins are special. ‘Mages,’ Edgar said inwardly. But their appearance made Joel think that Edgar asked for someone’s help. "W-What is this? Did you ask for their help just to kill me?" Feeling betrayed twice, Joel snorted a sidesplitter crackle. He positioned himself, about to transform but…