Worlds Finest Assassin Novels & Stories

The worse part was that he hadn't even stopped at just telling Dante to stop messing with his aunt, he even menaced to murder him. "We need to get you out of this city." Nate couldn't help but agree—that was not the avenue he wanted to continue upon this early in a new surrounding. "We need to get out now." "He could kill you, Nate." "I fucking know that Auntie, thanks." He snapped, annoyed that he hadn't been told all these things before even arriving to this city. He had never heard of anyone named Dante Hercules, his name sounded ridiculous anyway. Besides, he never even thought he would come across a mafia member, or an assassin, or a yakuza—honestly, all these terms were way too much fo

I’ve been working with my brother, Declan, and his enclave of Assassins since then. Long story short, The Confradia is an obscure government agency of Assassins in charge of creating balance in a world where money can erase the most heinous of crimes. A couple of years ago, Declan and the other Assassins dubbed me with the codename Sythe. Aside from Logan “Hades” Blake, the West Coast director of the Confradia, I’m the Confradia’s top hacker. Even though I’ve gone on assignments and used my assassin skills, I’m not quite of the same caliber as my brother and the other assassins. For one, I only go on group missions. Unlike the top assassins, I am not assigned individual targets because my ma

Nicholas made his way quickly down the wet lane. All the muscles in his body ached. He didn't want any more time. Adrian's eyes were everywhere. The note at the hideout was a statement rather than merely a warning. He needed to get back to Allison. Nicholas sensed it, even though the streets were oddly silent. The weight of invisible eyes followed every step he took. This was not something he had time for. His fingers tightened around his rifle. A shadow lunged at him as he turned the corner. Before Nicholas could react, a powerful force struck him, pushing him up against a damp brick wall. Then, gritting his teeth and swinging his arm to knock his assailant back, he shot through his ribs.

Emerald Devil was ranked 14th on the world’s assassin ranking, while Bloody Rose ranked ninth. This was no mere list of killers, but the most authentic and trustworthy assassin ranking in the world! All those on the list are the strongest and most renowned killers on the planet. Although there were only a few differences between nine and fourteen, the gap was actually quite considerable in reality. “How about counting me in?” Bloody Rose was a very sexy and voluptuous beauty, but as her name suggested, she was incredibly cruel and domineering at heart. “I want thirteen billion.” “You’re overstepping your boundaries, Bloody Rose.”

he chuckled. "And it's Niccolò Savellini and Christopher Morris who are against him," he stood up, walking into the kitchen to get more alcohol. "The world's best assassin and leader of the Italian mafia as well as," he walked back in the living room, holding two glasses of tequila, "the second-best fighter or should I say killer and business giant," he handed one to me and sat back down on the couch. "he won't stand a chance, principessa," my eyes slightly widened at the nickname. My eyes went back to her. "Archer can get the Russians on his side. And as far as I know, they're the most powerful in the underworld, am I right?" I nodded slightly.

Gabriel said, “I didn’t much want to be alive. Ten years of waiting, not knowing if the pull would ever lead anywhere. So I found the most dangerous work I could.” She waited. “I was an assassin, Honor. A professional killer. I took contracts — targets — and I eliminated them. That was my life for the better part of a decade.” She stopped walking. He stopped too, hands in his pockets, and let her look at him. Let her take the time she needed to put it together, to decide what she thought of it. He’d learned enough about her to know that rushing her to a reaction she hadn’t fully formed would only make it worse.

Only a handful knew that ominous phrase: the top dogs of the assassin world, the elite of the Dark Web, and, of course, the commander and his closest allies. There was no way the commander himself would be in a backwater like Drunham City. So, Liam had to be one of his trusted few. The realization squeezed the breath from the assassin's lungs, a wave of fear threatening to engulf him. In that instant, he was consumed by regret for accepting that job, for crossing paths with a man as formidable as a ghost from his past. The guys who followed the boss to wipe out the Dark Web's headquarters were all warriors of the highest caliber, like Gods of War!

The one person you don’t call unless you’re serious. Alessio Rossi. An assassin. An underworld ghost. No one sees him unless they need someone found… or erased. Killian and I, we didn’t get our hands dirty—we had people like Alessio for that. The call was short. I gave him a brief rundown, and we discussed his f*e, which, as usual, was steep. He preferred to do things remotely—photo, location, drop-off. But I wanted to see him. I wanted to be sure it would be done right. No room for mistakes.

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.

She t‍wi​sted beneath his weight, her eyes trackin‍g the lead assassin wh‌o was curre‌nt⁠ly sw​inging his rifl⁠e tow​ard D‍amien'⁠s exposed⁠ ba‍ck. "Not a‍t m‌y weddin⁠g," Celest‌e hissed. She‌ fi‌re⁠d two precise, d​eafen‍ing ro‍unds through the clou‍d of falling​ lace and orchid peta⁠l‌s,​ the c‌om⁠pact weapon barking with a surpri‍sing force that took t‍he lead assassin directly in the che‌st. T‌he‌ man​ gasped, his‌ momentum ch⁠e​cked‌ as he tumble‌d off the tactical l⁠ine, c⁠rashi‍ng heavily onto​ the white silk aisle.