Devil Whispering Novels & Stories

“…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..

“You know I could make all this go away. I can make the charges disappear, but I’m going to need something from you first.” I knew what it was before he even said it. “Sign the papers,” he leaned down to tuck a strand of hair from my face while maintaining eye contact with me. “And then disappear from my life, forever.” He said it with so much certainty that I felt like he had driven a stake clean through my heart, impaling me with his words. I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all before it finally settled in my head. Curtis Blackwood was the fucking devil.

I said angrily and ended the call and threw my phone on my bed as tension-filled my whole being. My phone vibrated and I picked it up. The Devil: ‘A man can dream, Evelyn. And I will never stop dreaming of having you on your knees in front of me. But just so you know, I will never force you to do something you’re not comfortable with. I am a man of my word. But if in case you feel lonely and cold at night, I would be more glad to be of service and keep you warm.’ ME: ‘Just go on dreaming because it won’t happen.’

Because if they speak, they’ll whisper his name. Massimo Bianchi. Bane of my existence. The devil god forgot to chain. A wound that scabs just enough to be torn open again. The kind of man who doesn’t knock the air out of your lungs, he teaches you to love the suffocation. The kind who leaves fingerprints on your soul, not your skin, and still, you feel them burn. He walks like regret, slow, certain, dressed in leathered sin. Speaks in silken commands that sound like choices. Claims like a guillotine.

The air reeked of iron and death, heavy and nauseating. “Too noisy.” The voice that followed was chilling—calm, devoid of any emotion yet deep and smooth like a devil's lullaby. It belonged to only one man: Leonardo Morano. Known in hushed whispers as the Devil himself, his mere presence drained the warmth from the room.

he said when I told him about my suspicion. I wanted to whine and express my frustration, but is there truly a point for that, when it has already happened? And it basically was the seed I said that we needed to plant for everyone to know our fake relationship. But gawd! To see and hear what everyone thought about that was a nightmare! “The Devil’s secretary has now become the Devil’s baby. Scroll to continue reading,” I moaned and covered both hands on my face as Freda continued laughing at me.

Ayla caught the rhythm of the room: the hush before a number was called, the shift of weight when tension crested, the faintest collective exhale when a lot was claimed. Then, without ceremony, the auctioneer lifted a small black envelope from the table. “Lot forty-seven,” he announced, his voice dropping to a tone that made the air in the room seem heavier. “Designated… ‘Specter.’” A ripple moved through the crowd. Not an object. A name. The screen behind him did not light with an image. Instead, a single word appeared in stark white on a black background: CONFIDENTIAL. “This,” the auctioneer said, “is an asset with confirmed operational success in extraction, infiltration, and destabilizat

I said, and she laughed. “You must keep in mind that whatever happens here doesn't go out. Your eyes see without seeing. Your ears hear without hearing. You are never to utter a word of whatever happens here outside. And mostly, avoid the Don and his bitch,” she lowers her voice when she says the last word. I sigh.

The wind that swept through Deira carried an omen: The devil had stirred, and the kingdom would soon tremble.

"You two should stop worrying. I am getting worried about the two of you acting this way. Focus on something else. I don't care if you create chaos or something. Just don't bother my peace." "But we can't let you go deaf." "Zin, he's not going to be deaf," Dame said. "Can you focus up?" "Well, I don't know how to say it. What else could it be called?" Derrick rolled his eyes and said, "I told you, I could hear whispers. It's not as bad as you think." "Like what?" The devil stood up to leave, saying, "If you two are really worried about it, tune in to the news. I could hear someone planning a deed at a mall. It's not as clear, but at least that could prove to you both that I am not going deaf