Devil Ring Novels & Stories

He tried to run away from the feelings he has for her and yet here he is still smitten, still head over heels in love with a dead girl. Devon has just sold his soul to the devil.

It buzzed and trembled, and the blood oozed out became thicker and thicker. The Silver-armored Devil's eyes were full of disbelief. His body trembled and he came back to his senses. His expression suddenly became angry and ashamed. "You're just an ant, yet you dare to mess with me! Earth Devils of the Eternal Era, Break the Universe!" With a roar, a vortex appeared in the palm of the Silver-armored Devil. He clenched the long bone spear and shook it violently. Swoosh! The surface of the long bone spear was suddenly thrown out a lot of indescribable blood.

Zachary fumed and looked straight in her eyes that were gleaming with mirth. “I am not going to let you or this pauper destroy my kingdom” Delphyne gritted and then looked at Diana who was trying hard to stifle her cries, “Listen and better ingrain this in your mind witch, we are devils. We hate you and your entire fucking community. Heaven was once ours and soon we are gonna snatch it back from you. You better start counting your days because they won’t last long.” Diana gasped in horror. Zachary also stared at his mother incredulously, “THE FUCK YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT??”

After a few seconds of eye-to-eye battle, he still maintained his silence, leaving Don Basco with no choice but to break the deafening silence between them. “Am I right? What do you think? (Am I, right? What do you think?)” Don Basco questioned; his lips painted with the image of the devil's grin. Without Don Basco's knowledge, the real devil was the young man in front of him—a devil who is hiding in human flesh with an innocent face, waiting for the right moment to attack his enemy and make them feel what hell is like.

I swipe the lipstick across my mouth in one smooth stroke, meeting her eyes in the reflection of my compact mirror. "It’s like you’re.." "The devil?" I ask, snapping the mirror shut. "Maybe."

”Nice flowers.” Wendy commended as soon as Rebecca entered the room. Rebecca on the other hand didn’t pay attention to what was said. She was lost in a world of her own thought. She didn’t see the face of the biker, but from the sound of his voice, she could tell who it was. It was a voice she would recognize anytime, any day. The voice of the devil who haunts her in her dream. A pat on the shoulder brought her back to reality. She jerked and the flower slipped from her hands, but Wendy caught it before it could fall to the floor.

It rang, and rang, then I remembered he didn't like to pick up unknown numbers and just as I was about to hang up… "Who the hell is this?" His voice came through, deep, cold, and familiar. It rolled through my chest like thunder. I swallowed. "Dante." I called and there was instant silence, then a sharp inhale. "…Princess." He was the only one who ever called me that and to the rest of the world, he wasn’t Dante. He was Doom... The name whispered in fear, the shadow in every dark alley and the monster Mafia boss parents warned their kids about.

DANTE'S POV People call me the Devil of New York. They're not wrong. I've killed men for less than a dirty look. I've gutted rats who thought they could steal from me. I've fucked women who begged for mercy and made them beg for more pain instead. My empire runs on blood, loyalty, and fear. That's the only language this rotten world understands. And tonight, I reminded everyone of it. Crawford thought he could play me. Thought he could borrow money from my syndicate, promise returns, and then ghost like I'm some dumb fuck banker. No. You don't spit in my face and walk away.

Heavy and suffocating, but it was mine. Marco stepped forward and handed me a small box. Inside lay my father’s ring, still stained with blood from yesterday. I stared at it for a long moment, then picked it up. The metal was cold, the weight immense. A symbol of power. Of duty. Of vengeance. I slipped it onto my finger. The boy they had known was gone. I was no longer just Adrian Moretti, the son. I was Adrian Moretti, the man they would learn to fear. Luca clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You’re going to be a storm, Adrian. A real storm.”

His voice drops into a dark, lethal tone that carries to every single corner of the silent chapel. "You know what they say, Pierre… the devil always comes to collect..."