Books Of The Devil Novels & Stories

He believed there is no such Angel for Devil There's no such LOVE where Devil is smitten He turned into Devil was not in search of an Angel Never in his life he thought he would found it one Not definitely in his world where only Devil's reside Not definitely under moon where breeze blew kisses Baby I Wanna tell you a story Sorry if I bore you with mine It's a story of a Devil and his Angel She's everything which he's not He's sin where she's boon Ho baby tell me what was his fault He was child with castles of dreams, a happy go child who wanted a life which he could call it Peace Ho baby tell me what was his fault the world made him Devil He stayed far watching her smile, She was his word,

She's an angel. I'm the Devil.

After a few seconds of eye-to-eye battle, he still maintained his silence, leaving Don Basco with no choice but to break the deafening silence between them. “Am I right? What do you think? (Am I, right? What do you think?)” Don Basco questioned; his lips painted with the image of the devil's grin. Without Don Basco's knowledge, the real devil was the young man in front of him—a devil who is hiding in human flesh with an innocent face, waiting for the right moment to attack his enemy and make them feel what hell is like.

Her voice dripped with sarcasm when she saw Visha lying helplessly on the cold floor of the filthy dungeon. Author's note: Don't forget to check out my new books – The Devil's Obsession (A forbidden romance story) and The Alpha's Third Mistress. You wouldn't want to miss out!!! If you can't find them in my list of books, just use the search bar to search.

I found the library first, and despite everything, my breath caught. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined three walls, filled with thousands of volumes. Leather armchairs positioned by windows. A rolling ladder to reach the higher shelves. It looked like something out of a period drama. I ran my fingers along the spines, reading titles. Classics. Contemporary literature. History. Philosophy. Everything organized with obsessive precision. I pulled out a worn copy of Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment and opened it. The margins were filled with notes in neat handwriting.

It handed power to whoever held it. I flipped to the pages I knew. Moretti’s name was right there, spelled out in ink and linked to accounts and transfers with dates and codes. Under the family line were columns showing payments, which accounts the money left from, and notes in shorthand I’d scribbled months ago. That page connected Moretti to transfers that pointed at protection money and payoffs shifting through a chain of shell fronts. If anyone else got hold of it, they could ruin family heads or take leverage to force alliances. That’s why families feared whoever had this book.

We all turned toward him. “This,” Uncle Lucifer said, his voice resonating through the room, “is a genuine copy of one of the Seven Books of the Fallen.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “This particular tome belongs to the realm of Wrath.” Uncle Lucifer said as I felt the room atmosphere stall at his words. The Seven Books of the Fallen were legendary, whispered about in hushed tones among angels and demons alike. “But there’s a catch,” Lucifer continued, interrupting my thoughts.

I told him. “Salvatore!” the man yelled too quickly, his eyes begging me to save him. I turned to Emily who had a shocked expression in his face. It wasn't obvious, but I had detected it. What she had just witnessed was first hand betrayal. “Salvatore.” I repeated slowly as my eyes trailer over Emily. Without thinking, I turned to my guards, “have him locked up.” Then I added amidst the man's pleas, “prepare my men. Salvatore has dared to trample on my toes. I, Dante Moretti, will make sure he does not live.”

No voice from above. But he smiled. “She won’t let me stay buried,” he whispered. “Mothers always dig.” ~~~~~~~~~ BOOK OF BLOOD — NEW ENTRY "Some devils you bury. Others you bind. But the one who wears your name in silence—he waits. He learns. And when he returns, you won’t recognize what part of yourself is still yours." — Lorenzo De Rossi

He replied, peeling away from where he had been leaning against the door. "Some of that blood money is being put to good use after all." I responded. His mouth curled into that amused curve that set my teeth on edge. Santiago was like an impenetrable, steel door, nothing could get to him or ruffle his feathers. Not even the arrest had been enough to shake him. I wasn't sure if it was his self discipline or the belief that he could get away with anything. "Yes, Nina." He said. "I give back to the community so my soul will be spared from eternal damnation."