Devil In A Suit 소설 & 이야기

Had he always been this selfish? My thoughts were immediately silenced when a new voice sliced through the clamor, calm, and utterly lethal. "One hundred million." The room fell silent. Even the auctioneer froze, gavel suspended mid-air. I forced my heavy eyelids open just long enough to see him. He stood at the very back, half-shrouded in shadow. Black suit tailored to perfection. Black mask concealing the upper half of his face. But that silhouette was unmistakable. Everyone in the mafia world knew it. The Devil. Carlos Hernandez. The man they called the Devil in Armani because he destroyed empires while looking like he had just stepped out of a Milan runway.

"You gave her that money willingly. Last I checked, you were practically celebrating. So happy about this." "Things changed." She changed them. "She's in my territory now, Dmitri. That's all that matters." A beat of silence. Then — "The devil is coming down to hell, gentlemen." His voice dropped away from the phone as he announced it to the room. "Brace yourselves." I ended the call. Good mood. Excellent, in fact. Time to let the beast out.

Did he just say they want to turn my best friend into one of their sluts? “Excuse me?” I ask, needing to make sure I heard him right before I lose my shit. “She either becomes an old lady or a Souleater,” Devil repeats, serious, like he didn’t just sign his own death warrant. I stand, pushing my chair back so hard it falls. My mind blanks. Tunnel vision kicks in. My breathing slows. The rage vanishes. I go cold. “You want to use my best friend for your little fuckfests?” My voice is calm. Detached. Ice-cold.

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.

He was a mafia boss and a devil- nothing more than that. I had barely taken two steps into the reception after him when the door opened again and the driver guy appeared. The only difference between his outfit and the devil’s was his navy blue suit. His black hair was held back in a small bun, which was odd, considering his harsh expression. As he walked past me, I saw that he was a bit taller than my dad but not as tall as his boss. He was around Jason’s 6.1” height. How tall is this devil?

I was admiring the scenery when all of a sudden, my face blanked. I saw an unpleasant figure in the distance. He was wearing a black suit and spotted a smile on his face. His smile looked lewd and sinister to me. I glared at him with hate. I hated him deep to the bones and always wished that he would just topple down and die. "What? You are not comfortable seeing your lover, hmm?" Devon said. He was wearing a cold smile. Today he was in a clean black suit, a bit loose, but did nothing to hide his masculine charm.

Only the foolish make deals with the devil. Only the ones drowning in pride… or pain. Because the devil doesn’t barter. He doesn’t wait at crossroads. He doesn’t ask for permission. He takes. He does not knock—he kicks down the door. He does not beg—he commands. He does not love—he consumes. He wraps his hunger in charm, his cruelty in confidence, his madness in tailored suits and cold, perfect smiles. And once you catch his eye, it’s already too late.

He wouldn't dare tell Devon. Derrick ignored me as he continued blabbing on. " She hated you! Wanted to kill you! Do you what she always called you, a devil! You were the devil, Devon! " “That’s a lie!” Devon snapped. “Oh?” Derrick taunted. “Because I remember holding her while she cried about how much she hated you. Devil Devon! " “That is not true!” I shouted, my voice breaking. Derrick laughed. “Isn’t it? Then why did you try to forget your sorrows by sucking my dick?! "

he murmured against her lips, his fingers brushing the slick evidence of her arousal. Tessa’s cheeks burned, shame and desire battling within her. What was wrong with her? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. All she knew was that she wanted him—wanted him to ruin her, to make her forget every ounce of control she thought she had. Her plan was simple—seduce the devil. But as his lips trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin, a dark realization crept in. The devil was already in control. As his lips moved against hers, his hand slid lower, teasing the sensitive skin between her thighs. A single tap against her clit sent a violent shudder through her, her breath hitching as a j