Devil Realist の小説・ストーリー

“Too late. You already tried your luck with me.” I looked into his eyes—desperation, fear, and something pitifully like regret swimming beneath the surface. “You wanted to know why they call me the Mafia Devil,” I said, voice dr,opping to a whisper thick with menace. His nod was frantic. I smiled—a slow, cruel curve. “Do you get it now?” His eyes widened just before the cold barrel of my gun pressed against his temple. “I don’t do mercy,” I muttered. The shot echoed, final and unforgiving.

“…just like your mother.. You are a bigger devil than she ever was.” My eyes flew open and the steering wheel vibrated beneath my hands. The engine was still running.. Sunlight had finally broken across the skyline. My chest rose and fell in ragged breaths as the words echoed inside my skull. You’re a monster… Just like your mother… You’re a devil..

I knew their names the way everyone knew them: whispered in fear, moaned in fantasies, printed in tabloids that called them immortal gods and ruthless monsters in the same breath. Vincenzo Drakvolk. The tallest. The leader. Amber eyes that burned slow like embers under ash, voice that could command armies or unravel panties with a single syllable. Lorenzo Drakvolk. Gold-eyed devil with a smirk that promised sin, hands that looked made for breaking things—or making them beg. Valentino Drakvolk. The quiet one. White hair like fresh snow on a grave, silver eyes that never blinked when they decided something belonged to them. The one they called the devil not because he was cruel, but because he

“I’m here just because of Samuel. I don’t care about any of your sick desires.” She strengthened her voice, even though every inch of her body started to shake. She realized that Dervel was serious about what he had just said. It was a game he wanted to play with her. “Imagine a prey which comes back to its predator. Every single return results in its partial death. Either it’s an actual murder or the slaughter of an integral part of someone’s entity.” Dervel was more than happy to explain everything in detail. “To put it another way - you're gonna feed me with yourself, with every dimension of you, until I let you go, with some life in you or not. Is that clear?”

His calmly composed facial features remained unchanged, whereas his eyes remained glued to her brother, so in her desperate attempt to save her brother's life, she extended her hands in his direction to grab his feet to plead him more, but she stopped when she witnessed his eyes finally travelling down towards her. His gaze felt so calm that it terrified that girl. It made her feel like she was looked into the eyes of someone inhuman, because a human could never be so soulless. A human could never look so pitiless. Not just only looked, but this man was feeling internal. Just like what the world called him. The Devil. “A hero of your story can be a villain in someone else's book, and….” Brea

Eventually, he overcame my defenses, pushed me onto the couch, and whispered in my ear with his lips. "I told you, I'm the Devil! Don't you remember?" "So we're the same?" I laughed until my shoulders shook, and my heart felt empty even after killing. Maybe Lady Mary was just an appetizer, but she turned me on to killing. For some things, once started, one can never go back. “Do you want to know about the Devil's world?” Frade said, squeezing my breasts through my shirt. “I can teach you how to be a real devil!”

Who works for the Devil! ___________________________

My mind drifts to Savannah fuelling my hunger to save her, my hunger to survive. How can I let her live in the Villa with such a monster? A man who doesn’t have an ounce of empathy within him. Does he have no compassion for women whatsoever? I’m sure there are laws in the Elite Families bible about harming women and children. He's the devil incarnate, a grim reaper with a heart as black as coal, a grinch who steals joy and a boogeyman, who haunts your dreams all rolled into one. Don Valentino is like a dark and stormy night, causing the air to grow thick with the stench of fear and desperation.