Capone Bege Devil Fruit Novels & Stories

before or after Maleya tbought disappearance that lead everyone in an uproar. The reviving sedan determine the noise coming in the basement. It drive through the exit, yet the man bold enough to open the windshield and smile to Lucho's shock and distracted expression. In his neck, just as the wind blows and his upper button loose, the tattoo came to view. “They are here,” he thought, certain to the tattoo that glowing bloodily in the dark. The tattoo...of the High Society is the very evidence.

The crew murmured thanks and started tapping their orders on the tablets in front of them: sushi rolls, tempura, sake. “This is incredible, Mr. Smith,” one of the cameramen said, sounding genuinely impressed. “I’m not eating what he ordered,” I cut in, glaring at Liam as I started tapping on my own screen. “I’ll order for myself.” Liam didn’t even look at me. He just shook his head slightly and kept scrolling through his phone. A moment later, it buzzed, and he stood up, walking toward the large shoji window. He stared out at the lanterns and the ponds, one hand in his pocket.

Maybe start planning my next escape for real this time. And then—he did something that caught me off guard. Ronan Blackwood, the Devil himself, squatted in front of me. Not stood. Not loomed. Squatted. Eye level. Holding two glasses of wine in his large hands. “What’s the problem?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. I looked away. “I’m fine,” I muttered.

"Capo is drunk right now. We tried to take him into the bedroom, but we all are afraid because Capo becomes more aggressive, especially when he's drunk." My eyes widened and I swallowed hard. So the devil drinks too? And the fact that he becomes more aggressive whenever he's drunk makes me more terrified, because he's more than enough aggressive in his sober state. I can't handle the drunk devil. No wonder why his guards are afraid. "But how can I help with this?" I asked, clutching the hem of my dress. "Last time we tried to approach Capo. He killed one of the guards." I gulp as soon as I heard that. They looked at each other before saying the next words.

I made that up. The guy was a complete dick, a lack of respect towards Tara, princess or not, she was still a woman with dignity. At the corner of my eye, the brother, Prince Valentine, his best friend, looked away, but still saw the storm of embarrassment warring on his face. If he said another word, call it blackmail, but I would take him down to the mud. “It’s Revier Beauregard. And you are?” The Lord Raindeer, Revier Beauregard, whatever his name was, asked, arching his eyebrows, trying to intimidate me and pissed me off. I bet my entire life fund he knew me.

When Hunter returned, the very air in the room changed. He had changed into simple black shorts and a sleeveless shirt that clung to the hard, defined planes of his chest and shoulders. His left arm was a full sleeve of intricate, dark tattoos, swirling over every contour of his muscle down to his wrist. His hair was damp, dark brown strands falling across his forehead. He ran a hand through it, making it messier, and a few threads settled over his eyes. He looked like a perfect, handsome devil...wild, untamed, and devastatingly attractive in a way that felt completely dangerous. I forced myself to look away as he took a seat opposite me.

He stopped the regulation six feet away and bowed, perfectly angled, perfectly late by half a heartbeat. “Alpha Devil,” he said, smooth and loud enough for the walls to hear. “An honor, as always, to stand in your presence.” His pulse was a war drum against my eardrums. Fast. Terrified. Delicious. I said nothing. Cassian straightened. The smile stayed plastered on, but the scent of his fear thickened, sour and wet. “I come on a matter of… misappropriated assets,” he began, voice still polished. “Ten million, paid in full at last night’s auction. A rare acquisition from the southern packs: untouched, lunar-veined. A significant investment.”

For an instant, he showed signs of the old Luca, a young man who once brought me chicken soup when I was sick, but quickly closed himself off. Luca made no visible indication of his thoughts. As usual, he presented a façade of muscle and intimidation. His pale-blue eyes seemed to burn into me from behind the robes he hastily donned. Little could he hide the power held within the man, or the dried blood from the killer on his person. “I won’t be manipulated by such a sob story. I built this entire empire with my bare hands, and I know about desperate people. And I know how to use them.” Luca finally released my jaw, stepping back and arranging his robe.

CAPO: Hello, my Rook. A manly, powerful voice came from the other side. Capo, the name himself, sent shivers. He is in his early sixties, running his cartel all over in the States. Aslan and Sarah are his children. But this old lion has his own history of becoming the most dangerous man in the country. And Samson was in his right hand. SAMSON: We finished the target. Samson knew the next word coming from him would drain his argument. Capo sucked a long puff of his King of Denmark Cigar and released the smoke. With patience, he took a sip of his single malt whiskey as Samson could hear ice cubes incorporated in that golden liquid.

Growling like he’s wants to eat his own disciple. “F-Forgive m-me, m-my L-Lord.” Captain Black Beard peeked inside which caused his sudden resignation to his disciple. “Daemon, the one and only son of Prince Tubigo, son of the Great King of Rainforest Biome and The Water Nation.” One step at a time into Lord Daemon’s room Captain Black Beard did. “And now, they call you the–” “Lord, Lord Daemon, God of all Cannibal Fire Eater.” Lord Daemon slowly approached the place where Captain Black Beard is standing.