The Perfect Assassin Novels & Stories

The daring backline that went down to the middle of her back, gave the perfect silhouette, exuding seduction and sass. Carlos was an easy target to find. He was seated in the VIP lounge, with a host of ladies frolicking around him. Ivy scoffed at the sight, as she approached the bar for a drink. “Two shots of whisky, please.” She said to the bartender. “Neat.”

I turned around to sneak in a look only to be met with the backs of three men in perfectly tailored suits. My heart sped up when I saw the side view of the first man as they turned to enter the VIP room of the restaurant. It was the same side view that taunted me throughout the night; clenched jaw, a strong crooked nose with thick eyebrows. And as I looked properly I realized that he had a man bun tied perfectly at his nape. I looked down at his big hands, wondering if it was them that did that perfect job or if he had someone; someone with delicate and soft hands, a wife or girlfriend maybe, did that for him. As if sensing my gaze, he paused and our eyes clashed almost immediately causing a

It was the start of a new day. Winter was creeping closer, and the back lawn of Serenity Villa was already covered in frost by morning. Aspen had almost mastered the art of bone compression, and Andrew was ready to teach her real assassination techniques. He said, "A true assassin only gets one shot. If you can't take the target down in that one moment, you've already failed. And when that happens, you're left with only two outcomes." Andrew stood in gloves, his breath turning into mist under the icy wind.

(Dead Assassin) One of the assassin that wanted to act gloriously died when a bullet blasted his skull right open. It was a simply like a scene of a fish that jumps out of water and got skewered by a harpoon. “……S.W.A.T unit! Boxed in!!..advance!!!….let no one escape!!..”.(Commissioner Layla)

Only then would I find true peace. After all, what could possibly be that hard about it? From what Shawn had revealed last night before passing out, this assassin was a legendary professional who used a high-caliber sniper rifle for his missions. The man could sit from a comfortable, mile-long distance on a rooftop and effortlessly gun Elara down in broad daylight, and no one would ever suspect a thing! I hissed. Let me see how that bitch’s precious tech knowledge and cybersecurity empire would save her from a bullet tearing through her skull.

Of prayers and quiet waiting. Until something shifted. It was the sound of breath, not Samarth's, but another — swift, measured, barely audible. A presence entered from the terrace, shadow sliding over stone, silent and sleek. Dressed in midnight black, the assassin landed with precision, like a panther stalking prey. The face was covered — only the eyes glinted beneath the hood, sharp and cold.

The man who once lived for my breath was now the predator stalking it, his every movement a jagged, lethal promise of my end. We were on the open observation deck of the Spire’s flagship, suspended thousands of feet above the burning Iron Shore. The wind howled around us, tearing at my silk gown and the Sovereign tactical gear that now encased his body. Dante moved with a sickening, mechanical grace, his obsidian arm glowing a sterile, blinding white. He was "Assassin 01," a ghost with no name and no mercy.

The light on my skin dimmed from a vibrant, living flame to a dull, bruised orange. Beside me, Rowan let out a sound that wasn't a roar, but a pained groan. His massive, ten-foot frame seemed to sag. The amethyst fire that usually rolled off his fur was being pulled toward the porcelain masks of the assassins, disappearing into the red slits of their eyes. He swung a massive claw at the nearest figure, but the assassin simply leaned back, the movement so precise it looked mechanical. The green needle in the assassin's hand hissed as it cut through the air, leaving a trail of poisonous vapor that made my lungs burn.

“She’s not going to escape the justice I bring for what she did to Victor. She’s going to beg me for mercy, but I won’t listen to her and shoot her.” “Miss Minerva,” she softly called me and sighed, “Helen Palma is known to be the best assassin of their organization. Aside from being the daughter of their king and queen, she worked hard training and accumulating missions that honed her to where she is now. Several assassins from the other organizations have fought her, but they never won. You must be careful and not be impulsive when we get to their mansion, alright?”

Upon seeing the assassin's stellar figure, fair-skinned face, charming eyes, and icy temperament, Easton could not help but gulp at how smoking hot that woman was. When Jada saw that the assassin strut in with a sexy gait, she was not happy at all and asked coldly, "Are you sure you hired a proper assassin and not just a woman with a pretty face?" "Of course she's a proper assassin! She's the four stars assassin whose code name is Black Rose!" Edward answered directly. The assassin chuckled. "It appears that this young lady right here doubts my abilities!" She walked over, sat down on a chair, and smiled coldly with an indifferent expression.