Devil In The White City Summary Novels & Stories

“You think you can lie to me? I'm the Devil. Tell me where it is.” “I'm telling you the truth,” Parker protested, his voice shaking. David raised his gun and shot Parker in the leg. “I don't have time for games. Give me the pen drive or you'll regret it.” With a trembling hand, Parker handed over the pen drive. David snatched it from him and inspected it carefully. “Good boy,” he sneered. “But you know what I do to traitors, Parker? I don't show mercy. And you betrayed me.”

The Bastard Devil was on the brink of transformation. It once been a Bloody Eye, that at the time passed, becoming a young man who looks like a snow in white. He was also cold, vicius-looking, yet every woman who lead their eyes at him would fall for sure. His good looks seemed his threatening aura to be his charm, every woman who admire good-looking young man sure to never resist the temptation. And that's would be their bloody end. This young man that was a Devil never love, he has a deep hatred to living people of this world. So how could he love someone raised in this place? He wouldn't do such a thing so he only killed his way to his revenge.

I kept tossing and turning and I couldn't fall asleep. How could I after my interaction with the devil? All I could think about was him, his words and his stupid smouldering eyes. Is it possible that he might be attracted to me? No way! He can hardly stand my presence or even hold a conversation with me. Then what did he mean by do something he might regret? Maybe like shove me against the wall to hurt me or maybe...to kiss me? I was aware of his violent nature but I knew he wouldn't stoop so low as to hurt me physically.

I gasp. “Up close and personal,” he confirms. He gestures down to his leg and then the cane he uses for support. “I can’t say that it was a pleasant meeting. After it happened, I decided to find out everythingthing I could about the demon. As it turns out, there’s a lot of information out there, if you know where to look.” He shuffles around through the box for a moment before extracting a yellowed newspaper. He reads the bold print of the headline out loud, stating, “Police seek suspect in swamp serial killing. That’s from 1967, by the way.”

The night doesn’t end. It stretches, silent and heavy, long after Isabella leaves the study. The villa is sleeping, but I can’t. The whiskey glass still sits by the window, half-empty. I turn it slowly in my hand and watch the city lights tremble in its reflection. My thoughts circle the same truth—someone close betrayed me. Someone inside the Moretti bloodline fed the enemy our coordinates. The warehouse wasn’t just an attack. It was a message. I grab my coat and gun. No guards. No Luca. Not this time.

“How dare you bring your devilish antics inside my house!” “My son, I'm not the devil here. Bring her inside! “ With a command of his hand, a woman went in. I didn’t recognize her because she was wrapped in a blanket. “This is what the real devil did,” when my father pulled the blanket off... “Rhen.” What did my younger brother do? @DEATH WISH Thank you for supporting my Novel! You may also read my complete Novel, (hmmm... while waiting for an update) Title: TAMING THE DANGEROUS CEO

"Hmm, yes, no matter who he is, he can't actually be a devil, right? Tanya asked back as she didn't know why Lydia was acting that way about the devil. "The devil, a man who came from the deepest part of hell, a man whose face as beautiful as that of adonis, his body cannot be more perfect, his voice as deep and enticing as an angels voice, but personality like the devil. His smile can freeze one's heart and may even cause the person to die. It is rumoured that those who had seen that sinister smile either had fallen into a tragic trauma or better still died tragically. The devil is no other than Alexander quinn.

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.

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?! "

She was executed the next day. Relishing the memory sent chills down my spine, bit I was about to commit the same crime she was killed for. Finding the rose painting, I brushed the tip with the pin, and the wall adjoining opened, leading to a secret basement, where the books of black magic for missioniers were being hidden.