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Amiel was orphaned when she was fifteen. Her parents were the owner of the then-known largest mafia group that arose after the world fell in the year 2030.

Her parent's death was framed as an accident, but Amiel knew they were murdered. Yet, with no evidence to prove her claim, no one believed her—saved one man.

He goes by the name of Seven. Seven raised Amiel and trained her on how to be the perfect assassin.

Soon, Amiel gained the reputation of being the queen of assassins. 

No one knew who she really was except for one: Wizardo, her mysterious comrade. They were the unbeatable duo.

But Amiel had never seen Wizardo's face—a mystery she wished to solve. He was always just the voice that guided her in her assignments.

A voice who comforted her in times she didn’t realize she needed comfort. 

A voice she desperately wanted to meet.
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DISCLAIMER: photo cover is not mine. Kudos to the artist

The Queen of Assassins

My eyes fluttered open to the incessant vibration under my pillow.

I fumbled for my phone, put off the alarm, and squinted, trying to look at the time.

A groan echoed from my throat. It was barely noon, and I didn't have to come to work today. The city library was only open from Monday to Friday.

I prefer to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, the headache kicked in the moment I opened my eyes. There was no going back.

Throwing the covers off, the events last night before I managed to stumble into the bed had me biting on my lower lip.

"Always," I repeated the line Wizardo had said. It was embarrassing to realize I told him things I don't usually talk about with people.

Additionally, I wasn't even drunk. The booze came later after we got off the phone.

Work in progress: Chapter undergoing editing