Black Devils Cigarettes Novels & Stories

His voice drops into a dark, lethal tone that carries to every single corner of the silent chapel. "You know what they say, Pierre… the devil always comes to collect..."

The Devil Himself The double doors opened and the air in the office seemed to thicken. Alessandro Rossi stepped inside like he owned the oxygen itself. He was taller than she expected. Easily over six feet with broad shoulders that filled out his perfectly tailored black suit. The fabric looked soft but expensive, the kind that cost more than a year of her rent. His hair was dark, neatly styled but with a slight wave that suggested it would curl if he ever let it. His face was all sharp angles: high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and a mouth that looked like it had never smiled gently in its life.

Wolves collided with the shadows of those wings, thrown across the room as blood and instant death erupted. Vivica froze, eyes wide, her chest rising as she watched the devil himself descend upon them. The dark blue aura surrounding him pressed against her burning skin, sending a thrill along her heated skin, and desire, through her. All the rumors about him turned out to be true. He was the Devil. The real Devil. Finn stepped forward deliberately, each movement slow, lethal, deliberate. He stopped just in front of her, the room now deathly silent except for the beat of her pulsing heat.

Serious power. "Impressive, isn't it?" Damien’s voice came from behind me, close enough that I felt his breath on my neck. "It's beautiful," I managed, my mouth suddenly dry. "Make yourself comfortable." He moved to a bar area, pulling out two crystal glasses. "Vodka? Wine? Whiskey?" "Wine is fine," I said, perching on the edge of a leather sofa that probably cost more than a car. This guy is rich—wealthy. Fucking wealthy.

It had been a while since he’d let himself crave one, but tonight… his hands itched for the comfort of something familiar. He stood outside the mansion, the night pressing in, the faint drizzle dampening his hair. The flame from his lighter flickered once before the wind stole it. Then his phone buzzed. One glance at the screen and the muscle in his jaw tightened. Without a second thought, he flicked the unlit cigarette away and strode toward his car, the air thick with unspoken fury. Moments later, the roar of the engine split through the silence as he sped off into the night.

DANTE'S POV People call me the Devil of New York. They're not wrong. I've killed men for less than a dirty look. I've gutted rats who thought they could steal from me. I've fucked women who begged for mercy and made them beg for more pain instead. My empire runs on blood, loyalty, and fear. That's the only language this rotten world understands. And tonight, I reminded everyone of it. Crawford thought he could play me. Thought he could borrow money from my syndicate, promise returns, and then ghost like I'm some dumb fuck banker. No. You don't spit in my face and walk away.

Getting to know each other better and making small talk, they called on the bartender to get them the most expensive wine they have. As they waited for their drinks, one of the guys brought out bags of purple kush, lighters, papers, blunts, and a hookah. He passed everyone a bag of kush and their own choice of items to smoke out of. Some were preparing to smoke, while others already have begun getting high. The arena is now filled up with the pungent smell of weed. The guys and the ladies in their eyes now seemed to be in a magical place. They were seeing nothing but flashing lights, smoke, money, and beautiful people.

I said. “Good” “Are you a new student?” He asked. I shook my head and “Come back” I answered. “How about you?” I asked “Last year” He answered and he threw his cigarette on the ground and he stepped on it and then he picked a piece of rolled paper like a cigarette inside his pocket and lit it again and smoked it. It smells like a dried, burning leaf or grass I cannot distinguish. “What is your name?” I asked “Devon… Devon David” He answered and coughed hard and his eyes turned red.

~✴~ The DEVIL'S Heart ``````````````````` PERORATION : I love you and it is the only thing I believe in - The Devil ` ` `

"Angelo was not working alone." Abel declares, jamming his hands in his pockets. Prince walks out of the warehouse as he pulls out a cigarette from his pack, sliding the pack back into his jacket then lights it up, he inhales the red cherry blaring bright then pulls the cigarette from his mouth as he puffs out the smoke.