Hitman Books Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Give it up before she kills you too.” From the start, Lyan didn’t agree with his plan to get on Jilly again. They tried once and they failed, the result was Luciano losing one of his eyeball. “I’d rather see you in prison than a hospital, Luciano,” Lyan uttered out his thought. -

Hunter punched the guy who groaned in pain. Blood dripped from his lips as he wheezed. "We don't know anything. You can kill us. Beating us would get you nowhere," The bruised guy breathed. One of his eyes was fully swollen while the other was red with tears. There was no one in the slammers. Hunter had asked the guards on the watch to step outside and leave him alone with these f*ckers. Hunter has asked Rasmus to let him interrogate Alonso's men that he captured from the warehouse.

I take the second guard’s access card and press forward. My footsteps are soft, my heartbeat steady. The hitman inside me stretches like a waking animal. Good. I need him. Another hallway, another pair of men. They don’t see me until my bullets tear through their skulls. One slumps against the wall, smearing blood like paint. The other falls backward into a crate of guns. A door slams open ahead—someone heard something. He fires blindly. I duck behind a pillar and shoot twice. Center mass. Head. The body falls forward.

I said, handing him the paper. He took the crumpled note, skimmed the message then popped the locks. "In the back," he said, motioning with his thumb. We pulled away from the curb and I shuddered. Even with the growing distance between us, I could feel the tattooed man's murderous gaze, signing my death warrant. The streets flew by my window, blurring into one long, pastel streak. Not that I cared. The walled cities always looked the same, with every building a minimum of two stories high, painted in one of four pastel shades and a single coded steel door at its front.

I thought of the world that was currently waking up to a silence it didn’t understand. But as I felt that tiny, second heartbeat pulse against my palm, I didn’t feel like a fugitive. I didn’t feel like a victim of a global conspiracy. I felt like an Architect. The first book was about the blood. It was about the betrayal and the breaking of the old world. It was about the trauma of the glass and the roar of the mountain. But the second book? The one we were starting right now, in this quiet French valley? That book was going to be about the Home.

“You’re safe. Breathe with me. Slow. In through your nose—out through your mouth.” “I—can’t,” I whispered weakly. “Yes, you can,” he insisted, pressing his forehead briefly to mine. “Listen to me. Follow my voice.” I nodded faintly, clinging to him as I tried to mimic his breathing. In. Out. The dizziness eased just a fraction. Behind him, one of the attackers lunged again. Hector moved without hesitation. He set me down carefully, stepping in front of me like a wall, and the next few moments blurred together—grunts, the sound of bodies hitting the ground, Hector moving with terrifying precision.

I had no plan for what to do when we got there, I did not know much about this dog gang but I wanted answers and that was the plan. I heard a phone vibrate. Frank put his left into the pocket of his inner jacket and brought out a black burner phone. It belonged to the deceased hitman. "It's a text message, asking if you are dead and also asking for a picture as proof," Frank reported as he scrolled through the phone. I stifled a laugh. "They still do that?" I asked in a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "Fucking amateurs," Frank muttered. "Ask for payment first," I said as an idea formed in my head.

I yelp in pain, my leg throbbing as I try to push myself up. But before I can, the Hunter is on me. She grabs me by the hair and yanks me up to my feet, her sword at my throat. "Don't move," she hisses, her breath hot against my cheek. I freeze, my heart racing as I stare at the silver blade. This is it. The end. But then ... a rustling in the trees. The Hunter's head snaps to the side, her grip on me faltering. And that's when I see him. Gregory emerges from the trees, his lips curled into a snarl. With a fierce determination in his eyes, he lunges at the Hunter, knocking her to the ground.

Josh orders some wine and water for the table while we keep talking. “So, what was the last book you read?” he asks me, and I really need to think about that one because I usually read SMUT, but I can’t really tell a man on our first date that I basically read porn but fuck that. He probably won’t even know it. “Heaven & Hell from Rosslyn Scott,” I say, and he frowns. I can tell he has never heard of it. “Spiritual book?” He asks, and I giggle.

He leaned against the frame of the window and looked at all those people. Billionaires. Most of them in the government and upper class societies. Some of them were criminals, but many others weren’t . And maybe each one of them had their reasons for what they were doing. Mike had never thought this up to this point but before he could persuade himself that he wasn’t changing and no- he was never going to be on their side, he heard movement behind himself and acted on instinct. He grabbed the dark fugure and pressed the man to the wall, gun already pointed at the stranger’s head.