Devilman Crying

My daughter-in-law cheated on my son behind his back, and I caught her. When I confronted her, she turned the tables on me, accusing me instead. I told my son everything exactly as it happened, but she broke down crying and accused me of bullying her. "Ever since I married into the Simmons family, you've never been happy with me," she sobbed. "If I’d known you’d slander me like this, I would’ve been better off dead!" She attempted to hurt herself to prove her innocence, but my son stopped her. "Mom, how could you accuse my wife like that? You're my own mother, but this is too much!" he shouted. Furious, he moved out with her. Later, I fell gravely ill and begged my son to come see me one last time. When he finally arrived, he brought her with him. To my horror, they removed my oxygen tube. As I struggled to breathe, I heard her smug voice whisper in my ear: "Old hag, if it weren't for you accusing me of cheating, Herman and I wouldn’t have gotten your inheritance so quickly!" She laughed coldly. "Oh, and next time you accuse someone, make sure you have evidence. Did you really think your word alone could ruin me?" I died choking on my final breath. Afterward, they lived happily, spending my money without a care in the world. But then, I woke up. It was the day I caught her cheating again. This time, I went straight to work. I replaced the lubricant at home with industrial-strength glue. She wanted proof? Fine. I’d give her proof.

The newly hired genius programmer was a proud woman who always thought she could turn the entire industry on its head. When an investor tried to pressure her into drinking, she flipped the table and slapped him across the face. "My worth is in my programming skills, not my ability to network. Asking me to drink with you is an insult." Enraged, Clint Warner immediately withdrew the eighty-million investment agreement. He even swore he would never work with us again. As the Head of Product, I scrambled to apologize. The situation was only salvaged after I drank so much that I ended up hospitalized. … Later, I complained to the boss and demanded that he discipline the new hire. To my shock, he dismissed the matter. "If the employee causes any problem, it's because the supervisor failed in their duty. The promised million-dollar dividend bonus is cancelled. Take this as your warning." Fed up, I wrote down Mary Hansen's name on the Counseling-Out List. She couldn't care less. "I have abilities you’ll never match, unlike a scheming bootlicker like you. If anyone tries to go after me, the project will be halted. Don't come crying to me when everything collapses." I did not argue with her then. However, when the Counseling-Out List was announced, I found my own name on it. The boss claimed it was a mistake to force me to leave. Then he promoted Mary to my position and even granted her the authority of a vice president. "You were only great because of the company's support. Mary's not the same. She's young and truly talented. She’ll lead us to greater heights." With a cold smirk on my face, I made my way to our competitor, taking the crucial piece of our company's technology with me.

I took a shortcut through the alley and watched Dante Marchetti put a bullet in a man like it was nothing. He saw my face. That was the end of my normal life. Within an hour I was in the back of his car being driven to an estate I had never seen before with gates that locked from the outside and a wardrobe full of clothes in my exact size waiting like someone had known I was coming before I did. He told me I wasn't a prisoner but a guest. He said people who wanted to find me were considerably worse than him and that his walls were the only thing standing between me and a conversation I wouldn't survive. Maybe he was right. The problem is the longer I stayed the harder it became to remember which one was true. Because the man who caught me in that alley wasn't the only version of him. There was another one that nobody else seemed to get to see. The one who stood alone in his dead mother's library looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The one who had my cat brought to the estate because he heard me crying through a closed door and didn't know what else to do about it. The one who almost smiled when I threw a glass at his head. That version of him was the one I couldn't stop thinking about. I came here as a witness. I stayed as something else entirely. Somewhere between the locked doors, the candlelit dinners and the secrets we started sharing in the dark I stopped wanting to leave. The question was whether a woman like me could survive loving a man like him. I was about to find out.

My husband, an Army regimental commander, was killed in action. Before his body was even cold, I didn't hesitate. I filed for his death certificate and notified the Army, the Social Security Administration, and our bank. Then, three days later—on the very day his twin brother married his childhood sweetheart—I moved out, changed the locks, and remarried quietly at the courthouse, taking my son and the full line-of-duty death benefits with me. To everyone else, I was heartless. Cold. I let them curse me. I just looked into my “brother-in-law's” bloodshot eyes and felt a quiet, cruel satisfaction. Only I knew the truth. In my last life, I discovered the body sent home wasn't my husband's at all—it was his identical twin brother's. I ran to confront him, but by chance I overheard him and my mother-in-law whispering. "Mom, Sarah is strong. And we have our son. She'll be okay. The benefits will take care of her. But Amy has waited for my brother all these years. If she finds out he's dead, she might do something drastic." Their words struck me like lightning. I tried to expose them, but my husband knocked me out. He told everyone grief had driven me insane. He locked me in the garage apartment and, with cold detachment, married his sweetheart. And when that woman complained my son was too loud, my husband slipped sleeping pills into our boy's juice—right as my crying child was coming to look for me. My son never woke up. The day they buried him hastily, I ended my life in the garage, utterly broken. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day they delivered my brother-in-law's body to our home.

He's Alpha Vladimir Albert Darkclaw when he's in his pack and Lord Marino Jenkins to the underworld Mafia. He's a mafia lord which everyone summit's to. Although they have other mafia Lords in Russia but they all summit to him alone. A 26 years old Lucifer........ No one messes with him and lives the next second. He buys and changes slaves like a toy. The only Alpha who taught his wolf Annihilator how feed on humans. Alpha of Feral Fury Pack, where the Pack members prays for his regime to be over but it just begun. Trained by Devil's them selves, what do you expect. He's nicknamed Lucifer......... .......................... April Lopez, an innocent girl sold to the Devil for money. She endured all kinds of torture from the Clan members until the Devil came back. An innocent act of her's made her became his personal possession, his personal slave. His to torture..... His to spoil and corrupt ...... His to fuck......... His to kill......... ******************** " Strip and position yourself in a doggy style on that dresser" he thundered dangerously, glaring at the innocent girl Infront of him who doesn't seem to understand what he's saying.... " I don't understand" she stammered with fear, trying to act strong but her voice and body failed her wildly " I won't repeat myself again" he yelled this time, causing her to start crying silently. " I don't understand the meaning of the word strip or doggy style" she cried, while Vlad stared at her coldly. How will the innocent April cope in world filled with darkness and corruption? Will she be able to escape from him or die in darkness? Will his revenge be completed knowing that he has started growing a strange feeling for the daughter of person that killed his family on that bloody night?

He joined them like the others to destroy me. When he was good, he made me believe we could weather the storm. When he turned bad he made me believe he was the storm. “Good luck to your present Luna and if you haven’t good luck when you find her. I never loved you more than a friend, and today I’ll repeat I don’t love you, never did and never will not in a million years. What happened between us was in the past which was never meant to blossom. Let me go, I don't belong here, not in this pack and never will….” Before the words could successfully leave my lips a deafening sound rocked the cell and a large open dent came on the wall. Tagon. He took long hoarse breaths, his tight fist stuck in the wall. His eyes darkened with angry growls. What kind of a man has he turned to? It felt so hard not to think of the past. It was so hard not to think about how things were. The good days. He was the sweetest man I’ve ever met. I was foolish back then to think those affections were real. I was stupid to think my tainted blood could be made pure by garnering his favor and his affections. There were only two events he ever got mad: the first time we met where he met me crying and the second was when I told him… nevermind. He clicked his tongue sharply, “As long as you live you would forever be under my dominance. I own you. Your life, your blood and even your soul to do whatsoever my soul pleases. You are my slave and that’s your lot!”

Ever since we were kids, I'd always known how to make use of my gentle childhood friend for things like sending him on errands, and borrowing his allowance. He never complained. Just silently indulged me. Things continued the same way until the day we got engaged. That's when everything snapped into place. That was the day we both woke up. I was just a throwaway character in a novel. He was the male lead—fated to fall in love and end up with the novel's heroine. I was stunned. Ready to walk away. But he was furious. Jaw clenched, eyes wild. He grabbed my hand and dragged me straight to City Hall. "Screw the novel. Screw the plot. The only thing I know is that I love you, and I want forever with you." After we got married, he treated me like I was made of glass. Gentle. Meticulous. We worked side by side, building a reputation as a power couple in the business world. The events of the novel faded into the background. I fell deeper in love with him. Three years later, the youngest daughter of a real estate tycoon started her internship at our company. That day, there was a fire in the office. In the chaos, the girl stumbled into a shelving unit. It came crashing down, headed straight for my husband. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself in front of him. Pain exploded in my skull. Blood poured down my face. The girl, in her panic, had fallen to the ground, crying out, "Aaron, help me!" My husband's face went pale. His expression—pure terror—as he ran toward her without a second thought. "Grace!" he cried. Lightning split through me. My face drained of color. The heroine in the novel—her name was Grace.

Warning: This book contains explicit sexual content, but does not condone rape. "What happened, Father? What happened?" I asked anxiously, feeling restless. "He challenged me to a game and used his mansion as a bet," Father explained. I looked at Mother, who was crying, and suddenly understood what was going on. "Father, did you use this house as a bet and lose?" I asked, anger welling up inside me. “How could you, Father? How could you do this? Where do we go from here?" I yelled, overcome with pain. But my voice got stuck in my throat as I heard Dad's next words. "I didn't bet the house, but I used you," he declared, leaving me speechless and stunned. ***************************** "Do not even consider falling for me because, like the others, you are just a toy. Just give me an heir, and I will set you free," he said, pushing her onto the bed while his words continued to echo in her mind. Zoey, wagered by her father to the cold-hearted Alpha Ethan after a foolish gamble, finds herself reduced to a mere plaything. Ethan takes pleasure in emotionally tormenting her, believing women to be worthless due to being cheated and rejected by his first mate. Little does he know that Zoey is his second chance mate. Zoey is framed, and Alpha Ethan discovers her in bed with his cousin. Heartbroken and filled with anger, he sends her away, unaware that she is already carrying his child. Five years later, their paths cross again, and he realizes that she is his second chance mate and the mother of his child. But how can he win her back? She is no longer the naive girl he once knew; instead, she is a single mother sought after by many Alphas and Lords.

When Astrid is kidnapped and shipped off as a gift for a king’s coronation, she becomes resentful of her life and resigns herself to death at his hands. Spared by her new captor, she must find a way to navigate the turmoil of harem life. Pitted against the other girls of the harem, and the king's favorite, she must survive attempts on her life, societal upheaval, and, most dangerous of all, a budding romance. Is she just making the good of a bad situation? Or is love truly blooming with her tyrannical owner? "Do you know who you're talking to?" He asks both angry and amused, with a dangerous flame in his golden eyes. "Loras." "Loras is a king, Astrid. A king doesn't give explanations in front of anyone. And if you don't learn that, this palace will kill you." He doesn't sound like he's scolding her, nor does he sound arrogant. He tells it as it is. And Astrid was aware of that. But still, it's not something that her heart could just accept. She didn't realize she was crying until his hand dries her tears. And before realizing it, he pulls her closer. "N..." She tries to oppose it, but it's too late. His lips are pressed on hers and all breath leaves her chest. His lips are soft and full, embracing her mouth entirely. "Open your mouth!" He whispers an order and she can only obey. Her knees are melting so she grabs his neck. He puts his arms around her and lifts her up, pressing her body into the wall, trapping her. And then, suddenly, just when she was starting to get used to the maddening sensation of his touch, he steps back. "Don't you want to finish the conversation about Lysa?" He asks.

Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror and just barely recognizing yourself in the reflection? Well that is me, I have loved and lost. Survived and thrived, screamed and cried into my pillow tears nobody else got to see. But I never gave up hope, never lied down and never let them see me cry. Until him, he could see past the facade and see the real me. He wanted to love me, concole me and protect me. But I have lost hope in humanity, men, true love because life just arent a fairytale right? Its hard work and nothing comes easy even if you would like to believe it does it just doesnt. He is my mothers new husbands son and 10 years older than me. His blue eyes keep staring at me, it should warm me to the core right. Make me feel something anything. But it doesn't he makes women run after him and beg on their knees. But me, I have been down this road before. The charming smile, arrogant cocky attitude. It always ends the same, me covered in bruises crying on the bathroom floor. Thinking its all my fault, all me. But he just wouldn't let go. He wouldn't give up. And the more I turn him down the more it turns him on. I am only that strong before I give in,and even though I know how this is about to end. If he keeps staring at me with desire in his eyes as if I am the reason he is breathing. I know I am about to take the leap this can go down to damn ways. But the question is do I or dont I. Because fear can be your anchor or it can be your wings