Naruto Finds A Gun Fanfiction Novels & Stories

At the Costa family's annual capo banquet, Marco Costa declared the family would extend protection to one woman only: Rosa Frost, his childhood sweetheart, newly divorced and newly returned to the family fold. One by one, the other women slipped away into the night with their money, their dignity, and fresh protectors already lined up. I, Viola Rossi, once his Donna, was severed from the Costa family entirely, with nowhere left to go. Twenty-one years prior, The System ripped me into this life with a brutal mandate: make one of four made men fall irrevocably in love with me, and I'd earn my way back to my real life with a healthy body. I failed. Every single one of them chose Rosa. The system's final mercy: die here, go home. I stood in a rotting Brooklyn dock warehouse, gun in hand, and closed my eyes. Right as darkness closed in, a raw, raging scream of my name tore through the silence, like the man shouting would burn the whole world apart to reach me.

My best friend breaks down and accuses me of skimming family shipments, which cost us billions. Without hesitation, my fiance, Don Scarpa Falcone, points a gun at me. The bullet grazes my ear. He sends me to prison himself, then gets engaged to my best friend instead. Before I'm taken away, the family butler begs him, "You raised her yourself. She's your fiancee. You can't just ruin her life like this!" "Break the rules, and pay in blood," he says, polishing his gun. "As for her future, I'll decide that later." Five years later, I walk out of prison. The entire Falcone family is waiting at the gate with him, as if my freedom were a handout. "Looks like you've learned your lesson. It's time to return and get back to work. Don't do anything stupid again," he says. I ignore him and walk straight to the stretch Lincoln behind him. The door opens. Chris Corleone, the king of the Aurelian underworld, raises his glass to me. "Welcome back, partner."

~Did she cut her wedding gown off? What the heck! How could she turn it to that? ~ ~ What's going on with her? Why is she in sneakers? ~ ~What's she holding behind her ~ My ears listened to their whispers as I stood at the doorstep about to enter the hall. My gaze fell on my soon-to-be husband waiting for me by the alter and I chuckled remembering everything. Well, yes, I shortened my most beautiful wedding gown to a short gown that reaches above my knees and also on sneakers instead of heels, but then, this feeling is different; I've never felt this way my entire life. I'm supposed to be feeling rage boiling through my veins, anger, fury, accompanied with pains, and screams but that's not the case. Right now, I'm feeling super excited. Without delaying it any longer, I revealed the KRISS Vector gun I had been hiding behind me, and their facial expressions were joy-giving. I burst into laughter before releasing the fire on them. Wondering the kind of bride I am? I am Elora, the bride who went on a killing spree on her wedding day.

A kidnapper's gun was pressed to Lena's temple and mine, the whole scene streaming live online. "Nolan," the kidnapper said, "your wife, Donna, or your first love. Only one of them walks away alive. Choose." On the other side of the screen, my husband, Don Nolan Winston, head of the Winston family, did not hesitate for even a second. "Let Lena go. As for that woman, do whatever you want with her." I looked into the camera and laughed until tears ran down my face. For seven years, I had stood by him as he rose from the Winston family's illegitimate son to the first Don of the Italvia mafia. I had taken knives for him, drunk with him, even lost a child along the way. So in the end, in his eyes, I had been nothing more than a pawn he could discard at any moment. "Did you hear that?" the kidnapper sneered at me. I turned and ran toward the cliff. Facing the camera, I spoke my final words. "Nolan, I'm giving this life back to you. We're even now."

"You're a woman. Where's your brother? I would like to talk to him." She rolled her eyes, raising her pistol at him, fear crossed his hazel eyes. "Being a woman doesn't make this gun any less deadly. So if I were you, I would watch what I say because, to me, your life means nothing," Natalia told him firmly. "I'll ask you one more time and think about your answer because my patience is running thin. Where is my money?" "I don't have it!" She aimed the pistol to his right leg, pulling the trigger, the silencer made sure no one could hear the shot only his screams. "Where is the money, Michael?" - She is a drug He wants to taste One drop of her Is all it takes To have you addicted Where ever she goes Death follows But he didn't care Since he knew He'd die for her She is fire He'd touch Despite the heat She is a killer But so is he. This woman was both the devil and an angel. -

“You’re mine, and mine only,” Dominic growled as he pinned me to the wall. The cold nozzle of his gun traced the curve of my cleavage, making me suck in a deep breath. “If any man so much as looks at you the wrong way, I’ll blow his fucking brains out. Is that clear?” “Yes, Dominic,” I yielded in a whisper, despite the voice in my head screaming at me not to, “I’m yours.” _____________ Mila Parker’s seemingly ordinary life spirals into a nightmare when she is betrayed by her boyfriend and sold to the Italian mob to settle his debts. Now, falling into the hands of Dominic Silvetti, the ruthless don of the Italian mafia, she is roped into a world of danger, power and desire like she has never seen before. Dominic is a man who takes what he wants, and what he wants is Mila, body and soul. No matter how hard she fights, Mila is unable to resist the pull of the man determined to consume her whole. But as she tastes more of the darkness in Dominic’s world, Mila is left to decide; Completely submit to the ruthless mafia king or run for the hills and never look back?

I’m the daughter of the Alpha of the Embermoon Pack. As my post-transformation wolf form was tall, powerful, and strikingly beautiful, I had always been favored by my parents and cherished by the pack. Yet, during a journey with my brother, Gariel, I was betrayed, ambushed, and sold into an illegal mining camp on the frontier. There, electric fences, raised gun barrels, and endless despair became my prison. To prevent escape, the overseer would select a group of so-called “lucky ones” at regular intervals. In front of all the miners, they would hack off their hands and feet. Half a year slipped by in torment, and I wasted away until I was barely recognizable. My body was covered in scars, looking like a demon dragged out of hell. Even so, I clung to the belief that my brother would come for me. Then, one day, by pure accident, I overheard a phone call between the overseer and my brother. “You sure are ruthless to have the heart to sell your beautiful sister to us. Your parents must be losing their minds by now.” Those words instantly extinguished the very last trace of hope I had left.

The day I inherited Grandpa's "Peacemaker," I received a call from myself, ten years in the future. "Sienna, don't give that gun to Lorenzo." I obeyed without question. That night, forced to use his faulty Glock, Lorenzo was beaten into a vegetative state during a duel. Guilt nearly broke me, but my parents nursed me back to health. Or so I thought. "You idiot," my future self sneered. "It was a lie to get you on the operating table. They want your heart for your brother!" Finding a transplant agreement in my father's study, I publicly severed ties with the Morettis. Only later, after Lorenzo died from rejection, did I learn they just needed my rare blood, not my heart. I wanted to return and atone, but the phone rang again. "Your parents will kill you for honor. Don't go back." I waited. But instead of assassins, news arrived: the Morettis had been slaughtered by rivals. I bolted for home, only to be mowed down by a black sedan. As I died, I couldn't understand why my future self had orchestrated my end. Then I opened my eyes. I was back at the ceremony.

Book 1 in Russo Series. Loud gun shots echoed all around in the huge mansion. Cold bodies lying unalive on the floor as we walked over those bodies to find her. "Damn! She really is a killing machine." I heard Lorenzo's voice ringing in my ear through the earpiece. He is right. She is a killing machine. The amount of dead bodies we crossed and the way blood is splattered on the floor like water proves it. "Nic behind you!" Shawn warned me in urgency and I turned behind to look at the same girl I fell in love with, heading towards me, blood painting her face. --- Nicolas Russo, is the leader of the black market auction. He owns half of the Italy and people quiver in their boots at the mention of his name. But, a swirling storm, with a name Zyra Lavender stole something very precious to him. It was the audacity of her later on, to go and live right in his mansion with him. She overestimated herself when she thought that she can go on after messing with a man like him. Nicolas does not do forgiveness. He chases, catches, kills and cleans. Now, we have to see, how far can Zyra run? Thank You For Reading.

Rome never wanted anything else but to please his surrogate father, the man who had kept him when the world turned its back on him. Promising to do whatever his old man wished, he found himself walking inside their enemy line as the ‘wolf in sheep’s skin.’ Until the perfect day to finally kill their nemesis came. With his skill and his gun in his hand, he couldn’t be more ready. ​ But what if the door of the room he was hiding in suddenly opened? Surprised about what happened, he wasn’t able to take his eyes off the beauty that instantly appeared on that door. Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the ballerina, Margaux, the only woman in this world he wasn’t supposed to love at all. *** ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission, except where permitted by law. This is a work of fiction. Names characters, businesses, songs, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.