Devoted Novel Novels & Stories

At the wedding, Ewan Holland's assistant replaced the slideshow video with a clip of my sexual assault from five years ago. Amid the dead silence of the hall, Lilith Clayton pinned down my hands as I scrambled to unplug the flash drive. "Relax! I mean no harm. Just wanted to remind you how much Mr. Holland loves you. He doesn't mind your past, so don't ever chase cheap thrills or betray him." While I racked my brain trying to convince everyone it was an AI forgery, I frantically signaled Ewan to pull the drive. I thought he'd surely step up to save me. Yet he dragged the timeline bar forward and zoomed in on my face instead. I stopped wrestling, staring at him in disbelief. "What are yo

“The circle closed. The three bloodlines, wolf, vampire, and the old gods, finally braided into one perfect noose.” His hand slid to my stomach. The child inside me went still, listening. “It’s almost time,” he said. “The coronation moon is full tonight. You will birth the new world at its zenith. And I will stand at your side as the first of your consorts.” I stepped back. The shadow blade uncoiled, ready. “Consort?” I repeated. “I already killed one husband tonight. I’m not in the market for another.” His smile widened, showing fangs longer than any I’d ever seen.

“Too late. You already tried your luck with me.” I looked into his eyes—desperation, fear, and something pitifully like regret swimming beneath the surface. “You wanted to know why they call me the Mafia Devil,” I said, voice dr,opping to a whisper thick with menace. His nod was frantic. I smiled—a slow, cruel curve. “Do you get it now?” His eyes widened just before the cold barrel of my gun pressed against his temple. “I don’t do mercy,” I muttered. The shot echoed, final and unforgiving.

“You disgust me. You talk about revenge and family honor, and here you are selling a defenseless woman to a bunch of disgusting pigs. I can’t believe, for one minute, I let you touch me, that I actually thought…” His smile turns predatory. “Actually, I’m selling you to one pig, and what did you think, princess? Finish your tirade since it’ll be the last time we speak.” My gaze narrows. “I thought maybe that you had a soul. Obviously, I was mistaken. You’re the devil, a heartless, cruel, asshole, devil. You are no better than my father.” The smile falls from his lips, and he shakes his head. “Soo will be in to take you to the car. Have a nice life, princess.”

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.

She's the key. I turned the words over slowly in my mind, the way you turn something over when you're trying to feel the edges of it and understand its shape. Key to what? This marriage? Something larger than this marriage? Something that had been decided and arranged and set in motion long before a man named Alaric Virelli arrived in the rain outside Dorian's house and said two words that changed everything? I heard movement from behind the door, a chair, footsteps adjusting, and I moved before I had consciously decided to, stepping quickly and quietly past the door and down the corridor and not stopping until I had turned the corner.

Her hands stayed clenched in her lap, hidden from view. Valentina leaned forward, her perfume sharp and expensive. “Sandro and I were engaged for nearly a year. Did you know that? The perfect power couple on paper. We fucked in every luxury suite from Manhattan to Lake Como. He whispered about building something unbreakable together. I actually let myself believe he could love someone without breaking them.” Her smile turned brittle.

"How dare he?" Anger surged through my veins. I started reading below that line and it didn’t take me a second to realize that it was written by Binnazun. The book was based on the legendary enmity between Angels and Demons and the mass exodus of demons after the partition of Heaven. The narrator was Binnazun as it was completely his side of the story which was nothing but a pool of white lies.

The creaking of the giant double doors sent a wave of fear through the chained-up man and gestured that it was a sign for him to stop what he was doing, but the fear quickly morphed into a burning rage. The doors swung open, revealing a man whose body is chiseled to perfection. His dark suit wrapped around his body, his green eyes devoid of emotion as he surveyed the scene. This was Lucien Belucci, the man known as the Devil’s Incarnate, the most infamous name in the mafia world dubbed devil’s incarnate for being cold, merciless, and having no regard for life. “I knew you’d betray me. Bastardo!” the chained-up man snarled in a thick Italian accent, the veins in his neck standing out in rage.

Because of what's happening now and what she's observing, Amethyst can't help. Amethyst sat on the edge of her bed, her thoughts racing. He still couldn't get out of his mind the many possibilities that could be true now. Moreover, he has doubts about Jonathan. For Amethyst, Jonathan wasn't what he seemed. It's like it's different from the information he knows about it. The more she observed him, the more it became clear that he wasn't just an ordinary pawn in the intricate chessboard of the mafia world. According to La Xiena's intelligence, Jonathan is just a chess piece. However, that wasn't what she saw right now.