The Perfect Assassin Novels & Stories

Before he could pull the trigger, the assassin fell lifelessly on the ground. “What the heck!” He was amazed to watch some assassins shot by an unknown man. He continued firing bullets since he had a helping hand. An assassin hopped to Lucas, dragging his other whack feet long, his face was covered with a veil and he was on tight black clothing. The assassin looked armless not until he pulled out a dagger from his black clothing. Lucas's heartbeat raced as he directed his gun toward the assassin hopping toward them. “Don't move” Lucas ordered in a husky tone. Lucas pulled the trigger, The assassin smirked, and he swallowed a none existing lump in his throat as no bullet emerged from his gun.

And This is Her favorite Genre. They were screaming in pain , people who were present in cell were enjoying the show. Beside no one dares to go against Lilianah. Whole dungeon was filled with their screams. Some female assassin's were whispering with each other. They were saying That Lilianah has no mercy and they should never go against her. Assassin 1- "Its been long when I've seen boss this enraged" Assassin 2- "Yes, you are right. It seems they had offended boss extremely"

I released a sigh of relief and settled on the driver's seat but then the car turned silent. "Can I ask you a question?" Leonardo broke the silence after a while. "Go ahead." I answered. "Why did you decide to become an assassin? I mean you have all your life right in front of you and you could have literally been anything else." "I didn't have the option to be anything else. I didn't even get to choose to become this, it was forced on me. He stayed silent like he was ushering me to continue with what I was saying.

“Normally, I would hand an assignment to whichever handler had the best suited assassin. This particular target calls for all hands-on deck.” I dropped the file onto the table, letting the image of Rory slide out just enough to be seen. The handlers were professional, they quickly replaced their confused glances with blank expressions. It wasn’t unusual that we would have to eliminate one of our own, but Rory was unique. “As some of you may be aware, one of our own was murdered.” I paused to gauge how my words were being received. “Selene was our top assassin.” “You can’t really be insinuating that Rory killed her.” One of the female handlers scoffed. “They were too close for something like

A world away. The night air in the south garden was cool. The man stood in the shadow of a tall hedge, dressed in a perfect black tuxedo. He looked like any other rich guest. He didn’t look like an assassin. That’s what made him good. “You’re sure it’s clean?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “One chance. In and out. The chaos will be your cover.” “I’m the best,” he said. No arrogance. Just a fact. “Where is the package?”

“They used sanctified steel. That means—” “They had approval,” Ronan finished grimly. “This wasn’t a rogue strike.” “It was permission,” I said. From the Old Standard. From packs who still believed order required blood. I looked down at the assassin bound in roots, still alive, still gasping. “Release him,” Ronan said carefully. “He won’t talk.” “I know,” I replied. I knelt anyway. The assassin met my gaze, hatred blazing through pain. “You’re a mistake,” he spat. “Freedom rots worlds.”

Leaning down slightly, he whispered near the man’s ear, “You misunderstand.” His voice remained almost gentle. “I don’t threaten people.” “I simply decide…” “…whether they leave this room alive.” ⸻ The assassin’s smile slowly disappeared. ⸻ Alessio walked back. Sat down again. “Ten.” ⸻ Sweat formed on the assassin’s forehead. “You’re wasting your time.” ⸻ “Five.” ⸻ “You’ll never find them.” ⸻ “Three.” ⸻ “You don’t know what you’ve married.”

His eyes weren't their usual striking gold anymore; they were a terrifying, glowing crimson, burning with the promise of absolute death. In a display of terrifying, supernatural speed, Cassian intercepted the assassin before the man's boots could fully settle on the floor. He didn't just hit the man; he pulverized him. Cassian caught the assassin by the throat mid-air, the force of his grip snapping bone instantly, and slammed him down into the marble floorboards. The wood cracked under the impact. The threat was neutralized in a matter of seconds, the second assassin dropping like a stone, completely lifeless before he even knew what had hit him.

The external carotid artery had been severed in a single, clean motion, allowing the blood to spill out in a controlled flow rather than a jagged, desperate wound. I frowned, leaning in closer. The cut wasn’t just deadly; it was calculated. There was no hesitation, no unnecessary force, no ragged edges where the blade had caught on skin or muscle. Even as an assassin, I knew how hard it was to get a cut this clean. My kills weren’t always neat, I moved quickly, effectively, but there was always some variance in the force behind my blade, the resistance of flesh, the unpredictability of movement. But this? This was perfect. Just too perfect.

Finally, I turned to look at him. I let my gaze trail over his taper fade, the messy blond hair that refused to behave and those stupid innocent blue eyes that made people trust him instantly. He had the face of a saint, smooth lines, sharp cheekbones, a mouth that curled too easily into a smile that could make anyone feel safe. But Olek wasn’t safe. He was the Syndicate’s golden boy; the number one assassin, top of the kill board for ten damn years. I was fifth, which wasn’t bad considering I’d only been in the game for six years.