Devin Booker House Novels & Stories

“I’m just a fragment of dust of what you may term as the devil. So small and useless until I’m given instructions by my boss. In this case, Mr. Memphis, otherwise known as Devlin, and the water of power he pours to me in form of instructions, stirs my little particles into a pile of mud and I get my power from him. But for now, I’m nothing more than a human just like you and everyone else in your little world.” I shudder, breath hitching in my throat. At that same moment I remember the wise words of my mother. The same words I ignored the moment I let a stranger like Michael into my life and now Dustin and Mr. Memphis, who is apparently The Devil. ‘You enjoy playing in the mud, but remember

The pounding at the villa's front door snapped me back to reality. I hauled my pregnant sister-in-law, Sophie Barnes, and my three-year-old nephew, Henry Quinn, into the hidden room of the study. "Gracie, what are you doing? We have plenty of bodyguards at home. There's no need to hide here," Sophie said. "Yeah, Aunt Gracie. Didn't Grandpa say we shouldn't let anyone know there's a hidden room unless it's absolutely necessary?" Henry reminded me.

I sat down on the couch and took out my phone, scrolling aimlessly through reels—anything to distract myself from the image of Lorenzo’s smile and the woman who once owned it. Eventually, I did manage to forget about it for a while, laughing softly at random videos on my feed. I didn’t even realize how much time had passed until I heard the sound of the door opening. “Ethan, make sure to fix my schedule and decline all appointments for the weekend,” Lorenzo’s deep voice filled the room. “Yes, sir. And also, the receptionist said Mrs. Devlin—” Ethan didn’t finish his sentence when he saw me sitting on the couch.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: THE REAL HER NICO ———— It is true that the devil enjoys moments like this. He waits until you are already standing at the edge, already staring down at hell, already thinking about making the wrong decision. Then he pushes. Wrong decisions like wanting to kiss your boss’s wife. Like breaking the contract that you’re so certain you’d never break. Like craving more tastes of the lips that were never meant to be yours. And right now, the devil is smiling.

The ledger burned in her mind long after she escaped the Château. Names. Numbers. Weapons routed through countries that didn’t exist on any modern map. A whisper of war dressed as business. What chilled her wasn’t the scale—it was the familiarity of one name near the bottom. A. Lennox. She hadn’t signed anything. Hadn’t agreed to any deal. But her name was there, under “facilitator,” dated weeks before she even knew who Viktor Novák was.

he tried. He was tying a towel.” I let him draw his own conclusion from that damning evidence. Devin shook his head, with a disgusted look on his face. “I guess he’s more like our father than I thought.” He muttered the words almost under his breath. I had more to confess to Devin, but I couldn’t let that comment just slip by. Devon and Devin’s father, Christian Booker, had always been a bit of a mystery to me. As the patriarch of their family, I found it odd that he had never bothered to speak directly to me, even when I was a guest at his estate. The twins’ mother, Bernice, had always been cordial, and their sister, Hailey, treated me like part of the family, but Mr. Booker didn’t even mak

The code… “DTS8910.” This reminds me of the code engraved on the library shelves. I opened the book and like the first time I saw it, Alpha Devon's life was written in it before the arrival of his youngest brother, Damon. No matter how much I flipped through the book I couldn't think of anything that connected to the code I saw on the shelves. And then I flipped back the pages in the front and looked at it. The front page is very clean. There was nothing written there but Alpha Devon's name. Devon Tristan Scot.

“You locked your door? What is going on with you?” Dex sighed when Machine demanded more information. He shook his head and unlocked the door to his room. He looked around at the once pristine room and frowned. Everything was scattered about. Nothing was how he left it. “What the hell…” Machine mumbled stepping inside the room. Machine knew what Dex was like. He wasn’t the type to let things get dirty or leave things lying around. Even his office was orderly. It was a weird thing for people who were extremely intelligent to be orderly. He was surprised to see Dex bolt towards the closet where his saddle bags were turned over. He pulled out the book and groaned when he saw the papers were mis

She took her oath seriously and the only one she didn’t take seriously was her marriage and now it’s back to haunt her. The elevator pinged indicating it had arrived at his destination and the door slid open. Holding on to a strap of her bag, Chloe walked into the secret building in the underground floor of an abandoned laundromat. This building hosted the task force that kept most of America’s major criminals off the streets and behind the bars where they belong. At least one thing made Chloe happy, her job. It was going to provide her with the distraction she needs to deal with her failing marriage.

“No. But I need to know how to survive it. If your family’s coming here... if the Consortium’s what you say it is, and you’re at the center of it—I need to be more than a pretty thing you hide behind bulletproof glass.” Lucian’s expression changed—just barely. A flicker of something between admiration and worry. “You think I haven’t protected you?” “I think you can’t always be there,” she said. “And I want to protect myself.” There was a long pause. The fire crackled. Then Lucian rose, moving to the cabinet beside the fireplace. He pulled open a drawer and returned with a thin leather-bound book. He handed it to her. “What’s this?” she asked, flipping it open.