Devon Franklin Novels & Stories

And yet nothing about this felt ordinary. Devon appeared a few minutes later, freshly showered, in dark trousers and a crisp shirt, unbuttoned at the collar. His blazer hung over one arm, and his watch gleamed at his wrist. He couldn't help but just lean against the doorframe and take in the image—the soft domesticity of it all. “I could've sworn you didn't cook,” he said. “I can do two things really well,” she replied, not turning around. “Pancakes and leaving before things get complicated.”

Rafe’s words sliced through the years like a clean wound. “Donovan,” I said quietly. “You’re saying he framed you?” “I’m saying he used us,” Rafe replied. “He needed you distracted, broken—so he could move in. He knew killing me would do that.” My chest tightened. “You should’ve told me the truth.” “I did,” he snapped. “But you weren’t listening. You wanted a reason to hate me.” The silence after that was heavy, brutal. His breathing was uneven; mine wasn’t better.

I was so restless that I packed my laptop along with my phone way before our meeting time, and then anxiously waited for Simon at the Luna Café’s door. Simon came along with some blond-haired guy with glasses that looked like complete geek. “This is Dr. Travis Colton. He works at the Police Cyber Crime unit. He’ll be able to help…” “Hello! Nice to meet you! Call me Travis,” the geek sounded like a hyperactive student. “Hello. Nice to meet you too. I’m grateful that you agreed to help me,” I replied and slightly bowed my head. “Travis would need some quiet space. My apartment is just around the corner, would you agree to meet at my place?” Simon suggested.

Instead. It almost sounded like freedom. He mistook my silence for hesitation. "You'll have everything you could ever want," he continued. "Money. Security. Status." I wanted to tell him that none of those things had ever protected me. Not once. Money didn't stop bruises. A mansion didn't make a family. Status didn't erase fear. "You'll thank me one day." I met his eyes. "I doubt that." For a second, I thought he might hit me again. Instead, he smiled.

He stands from his chair like he’s been waiting for my arrival. “Hey! You made it.” He comes around the table and pulls me into a brief hug, his hand resting briefly on my back before sliding away. His cologne is warm and clean. Nicole smirks. “I didn’t think she’d actually show up.” “Why not?” one of the guys asks. He looks like a rockstar, with piercings and tattoos decorating his skin, but in a way that makes him look good. “Because her daddy doesn’t let her do anything,” she sings, taking a sip from her glass.

”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.

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.

“But he has your goodness, too. He has all the purity you never let yourself keep.” I kissed her forehead, a lingering, solemn pledge. The battle was over. The healing had begun, ushered in by the uncorrupted love of our son. I was the Devil Don, the man who dragged her into this dark world, but here, in this quiet, softly lit room, I was just a man, holding his family, watching the first, beautiful dawn break after the longest night. This fragile moment of connection, of shared joy in the midst of sorrow, was worth more than every asset Damon Salvatore ever owned.

I had to stay calm and follow orders. Devon took out the cloth from her mouth after she had muffled a response. “You’re a bad man! My father’s going to find me.” Devon stifled a chuckle as he rose to his feet. “Get her to the shelter, and keep her safe.” The guard nodded and pulled her up to her feet. She thrashed as she tried to free herself once more, but it was all futile. Devon laughed, enjoying her struggle. Now I understand why he had such a terrible aura. He was terrifying, a creature forged from darkness. There was no way that anybody could stand up to him.

"Why have you come here?" "Are you going to act like your master, and ask me to quietly crawl back to hell?" "You shouldn't be here, Lucifer. Lucas wouldn't want you to be here." The devil looked around the house, the corny smile still on his face. "Speaking of Lucas, I don't see him anywhere. Where has he gone off to this time?" Levi said nothing, and the devil chuckled again. He crossed the room, and sat on the bedside table. "You know that my son kept his mother prisoner for over a hundred years right?" Levi didn't flinch. "I'm sure you are well aware, after all you're the most loyal to him."