Cruella Devil Novels & Stories

The Brigadier of the Dragunov Bratva was a mountain of a man, all muscle and scar tissue, yet his gaze was piercing as he assessed me. “The girl? The one who’s been scamming you for three months?” “Yeah. She has a name. Anasta—Irina Volkov. She has no idea I knew her real name. What’s the fun if I spill that out anyway.” My lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “And she thinks I’m some Damien Romanov, a fucking lonely businessman with more money than sense.” Dmitri frowned. “I still don’t understand why you let her take the money. Fifty thousand today alone. Four hundred and sixty-three thousand total. That’s not pocket change,Kolya.”

“Well I've never seen beauty quite like that. The deal is yours, Diavolo. I'll even add an extra five hundred million dollars for it to become a billion dollar deal.” “Whats the catch?” “I want the girl.” My stomach flipped as I saw the devil cosplayer rise to his feet. He said something I wasn't fast enough to catch, but on closer inspection, I realized he was talking into the plug he had on. The curtain began to close. I was helped out of the glass. Before I could blink, everyone backstage had disappeared. I heard footsteps behind me and on turning, I saw the devil. “Well played.’’ He clapped. “You can’t sell me!’’ I blurted in panic.

Dio (God)… the hatred in them could burn an entire city to the ground. “Nikita!” Valentino’s voice thundered from behind her, filled with rage and warning. “Touch a single strand of her hair and I will show you exactly why they call me Il Diavolo di Milano (The Devil of Milan)!” She did not even turn to look at him. Instead, she smirked. “Is the Devil of Milan in the room with us?” she taunted, giggling lazily. My breath caught as her hand slid from my face to my chin, then slowly down to my neck.

His face twisted in shock—not from the shot, but from what he saw in his final breath. Sebastian. Jackal crumpled, blood soaking through white silk like spilled wine. The music from inside swallowed the sound of his fall. His final breath—a whisper—was claimed by the Devil himself. With gloved hands, Sebastian took pictures from the pockets of his suit and threw them over Jackal’s body. Photos of the dismemberment he had done to children and the horrible sex trafficking ring he ran. Images of women in cages and identifiable pictures of his own cartel, with each member’s faces on a sadistic group photo in a torture chamber.

"I heard you mention the name Jasmine, and you seem to hate her. What's your deal with her?" Her words only made Laura even more confused. "Who are you? And how do you know Jasmine?" She asked. The lady sighed deeply. "Let's just say I'm someone who shares the same hatred as you." She smiled. "The name's Cruella—" "Cruella Reed."

Smells like dust and power. He was sitting behind this massive stone desk—probably a sacrificial altar from some forgotten temple. Valerius is ancient. One of the oldest, he was there before the time of Jesus Christ, he was there way before America itself. His face is a perfect, handsome mask of quiet cruelty, and his eyes they're just black holes. No stars. The absolute law in this city. They were once deep brown but they looked dead and soulless. Lord Valerius is our coven leader.

Would I be able to handle that? Especially after keeping myself so fucking locked up for so long? She rubbed my cheek once more, her eyes searching into mine, staring deep into the edges of my soul. “ Fuck Igor, Fuck the world and fuck my fucked up brain.” She cursed and there was something about the way she said it that scratched a part of my brain. She sounded so cute but yet hot. “ I want you to show me darkness, try me and see if I can handle it.” The space between us felt too big so I closed it, placing my hand at the small of her waist. My gaze lingered on her lips. “ Are you sure, Cara Mia?” “ I'm sure, Dusha Moy.”

Chapter 34 Devil's Fury The door creaked open with an agonizing slowness, the sound sharp and chilling in the tense atmosphere. Veronica’s heels clicked against the marble floor as she entered, her eyes widening in shock. Before her stood the infamous Dominique Blackwood, every inch the devil his reputation promised. But what left her frozen wasn’t his imposing figure, it was what she saw beneath him. Aurora lay on the floor, half naked, her lips trembling, her eyes wide with fear as Dominique towered over her, his cold, emotionless face mere inches from hers.

“You’re vile.” “And yet you keep kissing me.” I chuckle, rubbing my jaw. “Be serious for once.” She spits the words like venom. “Oh, I’m dead serious,” I shoot back. “That little plan of yours, pretending you’re pregnant? Pathetic. You want Creed money, stop wasting time. Just let me put a baby in you.” Her face twists in disgust. “Never. I don’t intend to be a mother. I’m not ruining this body so some parasite can crawl out of it. My figure is worth more than your entire bank account.”

Carla dropped the call in anger. Meanwhile, Crista just sat at her desk in silence. Just as she had expected, Carla was going to make things difficult for her. Less than ten minutes later, Carla came to her office. As soon as she entered, she slammed all of Crista's twenty drawings on her desk. "Willona, is this all you can do? Look at these designs! There's no creativity and finesse to them at all!”