Hit Man Book Novels & Stories

Now she was craving the awful man's attention and doting care as she fell into a restless sleep. Muntaha on the other hand has started inflicting pain on his first victim who happened to be a spy that the president if Country Z tried to plant into his gang commonly know as the Devil's incarnate. He wore a heavy spiked metal hand gauntlet and let blow after blow rain on the poor man's exposed chest and Abdomen. Each time the spike came into contact with the man's flesh, it would leave a bleeding hole as a chunck of flesh was uprooted.

The hitman mumbled "Who hired you?" The policeman asked. "I need to return to the prison now!" He said. He stood up and wanted to press the button to call the police attention, so they could come pick him up but the cop held his hand. "We are not done yet" He said. "Oh well, but I'm done" The hitman fired. "Mr Man, do you enjoy being in the jail and suffering while the people you worked for, the people who hired you to kill someone are at their homes, living a free life..decieving people by pretending to be innocent?" The policeman said.

Adam glanced back down at the page, a faint smirk returning. “Man handled it though,” he murmured. “Didn’t panic, didn’t fumble it… just stayed in it.” He closed the book halfway again, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. “Still… that’s not for everybody,” he added. “Takes a certain kind of mindset to even step into something like that.” He looked at the cover for a second, then back at the pages. “This book really doesn’t miss,” he said under his breath. Then, without hesitation—

"You might as well kill me now." The man who held me down before laughs. "Why would we kill you when there are so many interesting things you have to tell us? You and your friends have been running around doing the work of the devil for a long time." My chest constricts. It doesn't matter what he does to me, I won't be talking. He takes a menacing step closer. "We'll be bringing you back to Hawthorn. We just have a few questions." He chuckles. "It shouldn't take you long before you fess up."

A better man would be wracked by how many times he had schemed a man's murder to his last gasp of a strangled breath, the sheer number of men he'd sent along on their way to Saint Peter—though more accurately it could be said he'd sent them along on their merry way to meet with Hades. He wasn't a better man. And it didn't fucking bother him. He was a VENETI. A hitman for the KASH MANCHESTER. The greatest hitman, damn it. Feelings and guilt didn't have any place in his life. Least of all over this fucker. He should have been more careful about who he tried to roll. The smooth of his tongue was pushed against his teeth as he shoved his gun into the back of his waistband, resting MIRO'S fucking

You could have shot that idiot and nothing would have happened. -You're a nasty, G- I murmured. –And on top of that, you don't help me with the book. I have to finish it the sooner the better. And I have to change the names of everyone, otherwise, everyone will know that it is an autobiography and we cannot make the existence of the mafia public.

, She hissed. I laughed at her fake threat. Girlfriend or wife, she was, and she is the Mafia Queen! . #THE_END . . So, finally, this book has come to an end. Thank you so much, readers, who spent their precious time and money reading this book. Please do give the same love and support to my other books as well. Since English is not my first language, so please forgive me for the mistakes. Please do rate my work by giving your precious reviews.

Manik smiles. The white Iru enveloping him vanishes. “Harasho is the most reasonable dogma. You can say that it projects the current life.” Manik reaches into his jacket pockets and draws their contents. There are two books on his hands. A pink book with a couple smiling at each other on a heart frame on the cover is on his right hand and a red book with a short hair woman crying on the cover is on his left hand. “Which Doujin do you like, Your Highness?” Manik asked.

That's what happens when you cross one of us, you end up in a fucking black bag. I look at Theo when I see the target and I recognise the woman, she was in Hazel's folder. I look at Theo, and he shrugs. "We need her vulnerable, we need her to depend on you, we need to isolate her", Theo says. I understand the job, I have done it a thousand times, we start killing people around our target and getting the person vulnerable so we can manipulate the person our way. "She will be mine", I say to Theo before he points the gun at the woman's window. She is her neighbour and friend. I know she works at the hospital. Hannah, I think her name was.

No daylight, no damn ventilation, just me, four walls, and the lingering scent of piss and betrayal. I wasn’t chained up like some criminal. No, they wanted me alive enough to bleed slowly. I clenched my jaw, as my thoughts drifted somewhere else with blood crusted at the corner of my mouth, the metallic taste making me growl. The only thing ringing in my head louder than the news broadcast was one word: Alessia and The White Book. That file was my damn insurance policy and my last resort to destroy everything that existed in the Mafia Family. A powerful ledger so vile, so goddamn explosive it would make the FBI piss their pants and make the Mafia run for cover.