Devil Realist Novels & Stories

But what really got under Vito's skin was the face staring up at him. His features. The way his dark hair fell across his forehead. It reminded him of a ghost from his past. A ghost Vito had spent years looking for. Someone he had fantasized about making kneel exactly like this in front of him, broken and desperate. Except, that asshole had fucking black eyes, this one had blue. And he would never bend his knees for something as measly as this. It made Vito's hands itch. "Don't make me repeat myself," Vito said, his voice cutting through whatever daze Aiden had fallen into.

“Then we’ll see what happens.” “And if she tries to scam you at dinner?” I smiled — a cold thing, sharp as winter frost. “Then I’ll let her. One more time. I want to see how far she’ll go. How well she can lie to my face. I want to see her face.” “You’re enjoying this,” Dmitri observed. I considered the accusation. Actually, in my world, everything was predictable. My enemies moved in expected patterns. My allies played their parts. The business operated smoothly, with violence serving as just another instrument, while women were viewed as either assets or expendable.

’ Inner Devil 2: ‘He’s the fantasy starter pack: filthy mouth, perfect abs, loyal heart, and the kind of possessiveness that makes you feel safe and scandalous all at once. Inner Devil 1: ‘His mouth isn’t even that filthy. It’s… poetic.’ Inner Devil 2: ‘Okay. Poetic filthy, then.’

Earlier when he was about to die by the hand if the one that has been saving him all this years from the bullies, how ironic, he never had thought that the only person that is a master of death to save him, how can he ever think that, The Devil has been the nightmare and horror movie of all the Lords and Mafias, so him saving him and looking innocent at it made Vince see him in another way. He has been viewing The Devil as an ugly and demonic lord that love killing anything that it sees and them it it flesh raw, well be is not to blame though base on how he grew up and how his life has been, although he is now skilled, it doesn't mean that his traits with which dreaming and wishful conclusio

They were staring nonstop at him. "Is that what it takes to stand by your side?" Syvan asked pushing all sense from his mind. He remained with that voice in his head that encouraged him to do whatever it takes to remain by Daylen's side. "Then tell me who I need to kill," he added fighting the urge to be sincere of where he stood on killing anyone. "He might not be a vampire but his thinking is the same as the old man's," Devom complimented. "It's like im staring at the carbon copy of him," Daylen admitted. "It gives me goosebumps," he feigned a shiver.

“She never ca-cared about the s-screams.” Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes. “I am so sorry.” “S-she is evil i-incarnate.” “She is.” A movement at the corner made my eyes open. The duke was folding his arms, still leaning against the door. He watched us with a peculiar mix of curiosity and wariness. “She is devil per-personified,” Revandrel muttered, nose brushing my neck. My nails dug into my own sides. “You are not wrong.” “People-eating, s-soul-sucking being without a soul.”

Internally, I grimace at the realisation that it is weirdly more gratifying to listen to, rather than the sound of me smacking my wife's ass as I take her from behind. He groans, spitting out blood, "Is that all you got, your wife has a better hand than you do." He mutters incoherently. I run my fingers through his hair which is drenched in sweat, yanking his head back, and I force him to meet my gaze, "You know, Castello Esposito. The wildest gimmick the Devil likes to play isn't him making you accept that he doesn't exist. It's him making you believe that you are on friendly terms. Acquainted." I growl, lowering my head, and getting right in his face. "So that when you finally did meet me

I saw one fifty two minutes ago. I don't know what to think. My step-father has committed a lot of atrocities, but none, have haunted me quite like him shamelessly revealing the evidence of his arousal to me. I don't want to think too much about it, but my mind doesn't want to stop manufacturing questions I know I do not want to hear the answers to. If only he'd said a word. Just one word. It is said that the Devil is the master of deceit, that he is most adroit at weaving up illusions of false pleasure and decadence that conceal utter apparition. That is how he traps many souls without them even knowing it.

I look around trying to find the objects he speaks of, "Madrees are vampire hunters they would srian out your soul once they get a hold of you" "You must think I'm some sort of silly ass trying to scare me or is that some sort of trick to make me follow you?" "I did say it's my pleasure to drop you off now will you get off or not it's rather late and I do not want to be late for the fun" I wonder what hsi definition of fun is as he keeps smirking each time he mentions the word fun, Devon had sayd something about mental and emotional torture what I do not get is why this dude find it interesting,

"That this is all temporary? That he's going to suddenly realise he made a mistake and come crawling back to you?" "It's not a fantasy. It's inevitable." "You're delusional." I shook my head, genuinely pitying her now. "You're so desperate to have Damon that you've constructed this entire alternate reality where you matter to him and you're important. But the truth is, you're not. You never were and you never will be." Devika's face contorted with rage. "How dare you—"