Black Devils Cigarettes Novels & Stories

This task is becoming more burdensome by the month. "At this rate, we're never going to catch those sons of bitches." Sam sits and runs a shaky hand down his sweaty face. Devon stares at the page for a beat longer and then opens the first drawer on his left. He needs a cigarette. He has to burn this awful news right out of his mouth. "We'll get another one," he simply says as he lights a match. He misplaced his lighter again. He has to get a new one.

I asked. Max shrugged. “How the hell should I know?” I was surprised by his snappy tone. Before I could throw out a smart retort, a small uproar erupted in the party crowd. Looking out, I saw the Devils entering the party. They were all wearing black, their jackets, smoking, carrying their guns. They were led by Dexter who stood at the center of it, enjoying the attention on him. “Well, well, well, isn’t this something? Chadwick, how could you throw a party and not invite your old friend!” he said, addressing Mr. Chadwick.

“Then I reverse the transfer. And I make a phone call to those gentlemen searching for your father. Have you any idea what happens to the daughters of men who do not pay their debts?” I stared at him in horror. He was blackmailing me, using my family’s safety to manipulate me. The charming young man had become the very essence of the Devil. “Why?” I asked. “Why marry me? Why marry a woman you hate? How can you marry a woman you said you would never love?” Luca placed his drink down and moved towards me. He stopped right in front of me and lifted my hand so that he could examine the ring which I was now forced to wear.

Luca asked, his voice gentle but urgent. Thomas looked around as if worried about being overheard, despite the empty room. "Blackwood didn't just go after the firm. He went after individuals. Digging into personal lives, finding pressure points." He swallowed hard. "Sarah Mercer's brother had a DUI ten years ago. Somehow that made it to the licensing board with allegations that he was still drinking and designing unsafe structures." Maya felt a chill. "That's beyond unethical." "It's how Blackwood operates," Thomas said. "I just... I thought you should know what you're up against." With that, he hurried out, leaving Maya and Luca alone in the suddenly silent conference room.

PEBBLES' POV Sardines and eggs. That was what the devil's kiss tasted like. His lavishly applied aftershave plagued my nostrils with its putrid, citrusy scent. With his tongue still embedded down my throat, he used his hands to grope my breasts, squeezing and pinching at my bosoms. His dent in his pants pressed painfully against my jeans covered thighs. I thrashed around as a sign of protest to his vulgar behaviour. He let out a deep and malignant chuckle against my lips. “You taste so good. I wonder if you will feel as sweet as you taste?” He withdrew his tongue as he held eye contact. His black pupils swirled in the dim lighting of the small closet. I saw the endless depths of evil and dar

Irene realising swiftly, shoulders past Devon before I take back my words, leaving me to deal with her mess. I let out a groan but quickly masked my distaste with a smile. "Devon.." I muttered, opening my drawers. I take out a pack of cigarettes and fished out my lighter in my pockets. "I wasn't expecting you." I said lighting my cigarette and eventually puffing out a smoke as it calmed my nerves. "Oh stop with the bullshit. We had a deal." He immediately snapped and I tried my best to hold back from having my men return and rid of him.

Her phone beeped and when she checked, she noticed it was a follow up text concerning the case she was working on. “Wrong timing!” She screamed, her voice echoing. She opened I*******m and typed Rebecca’s username, and the page popped up. For years now she’d been helping Axel stalk Rebecca and because of that, she knew so much things about her. She tapped Rebecca’s last post and it was a picture of the black Mercedes Benz Eric gifted her, and it was captioned “Thank you to my man.” She clicked on the comment section and found lots of congratulatory texts, she kept scrolling till she came across a familiar name.

She undid him with a single look. “I can’t take it anymore,” he muttered, grabbing his phone and making a call to someone . “Hello?” the vendor answered nervously. “It’s Zayden,” he said sharply. The man on the other end stammered. “Yes, sir. Anything you need.” “I need you to sell a lottery ticket to a couple—the ones living in house number 48, Second Cross, near the temple in your town. Make sure you give them the winning ticket, I’ll pay you. I don’t care what you do—rig the draw, manipulate the numbers—I want them to win big.”

Philip smiled shortly and agreed, "Thank you." When she faced him and began stalking to him with a mischievous smirk on, he felt his stomach churn. What was going on in that dirty mind of hers, he thought. Whatever it was, he wanted to avoid. Abruptly, he asked, "Can I offer you anything? Coffee, wine." He creased his brows together and concluded, "Whisky?" The blonde smiled at the last one and replied, "A little will be fine." Moments later, they were served and left alone. The Duke gawked at her, hating the awkward silence and hoping she had something to say, because he didn't.

It was clear that they were here for business, for the cartel's operations were a well-oiled machine that demanded unwavering focus. Emilio Vargas leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on me. "Let's get to business, Ms. Alissa." The directness of his words echoed throughout the room, the tension building with every passing second. I signaled to Stephan, and he brought in four crates I had kept aside for them. Emilio Vargas walked closer to the crates, holding out a device, which beeped loudly each time it came in contact with any of the crates. I wondered what could be the content of the crates, I still haven’t gotten the balls to ask Russo yet.