Dive Devil Novels & Stories

Arnav wanted his doll safe, it can only happen when shivay come into his sense, coz this shivay was broken, he should make get back the devil in order to save both himself and his Doll A-“Shivay, come to your sense, Anika needs you, come on you need to be stronger, didn’t you look at her eyes which was screaming to save her, how can you lose yourself shivay, gare up, you need to save her, your love your Angel, you can’t act like insane, get up, save her, we’ll find her Shivay, don’t you want to punish those who toucher your love, don’t you want to punish him for laying his hand on her” Shivay stood up with rage, hearing Arnav words, he was right he can’t lose like this, it was his Angle and

“I’m going to bury myself inside of you until you collapse from exhaustion!” Inner Devil: ‘Ahhh! I want! I want!’ Inner Devil 2: ‘What? I guess it’s time to schedule my funeral. I’m dying a happy woman! Someone tell my parents, I lived a fruitful life!’

He was joined by the physician from the main palace. As soon as they removed the last needles from her elbow, she opened her eyes slowly. Lydia weeped for joy as she gave her water to drink. Heavy footsteps were heard in the corridor. The door was pushed open at once and she saw, the Devil.

She felt exposed and vulnerable, yet at the same time empowered and desired. Dmitry stepped back, taking in the sight of her body. Abeni watched as his eyes moved over every inch of her, from the smooth expanse of her stomach to the curls of black hair at her groin. He moved closer again, his lips finding hers in a hungry kiss. His hand reached down, parting her folds, his fingers finding her wet and ready for him. He thrust his middle finger inside her, filling her, as his tongue danced with hers in the kiss.

>>>Dante Dante paced back and forth in his dimly lit study, his mind a tempest of fury and frustration. The events of the night replayed in his head, a cycle of rage he couldn't break. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light of the desk lamp, and took a long, burning sip. It did little to quell the fire inside him.

"Why would DVV want information on me? I’ve never worked with her." Aiden nodded. "I asked the same thing. She might be looking for leverage or planning something. She’s powerful, and you know how she operates—she doesn’t move without a reason. But if we want her help, we need to play her game." Aiden cleared his throat, deciding to go for it. "Lucifer, do you know someone who goes by the name DVV?" Lucifer’s expression hardened slightly. "DVV?" he repeated, leaning back in his chair. "Of course, I know her. The Devil’s Venomous Viper. She’s notorious in the underworld. Why are you asking?"

Davina's POV: The cool L.A night air, hit my bare skin like a physical shock. Goosebumps erupted across my arms and legs, a stark reminder of my near-nakedness and the volatile situation I had just fled. I stood just outside the Devil's Club's grimy back entrance, the heavy bass still throbbing in my ears, a persistent reminder of the gilded cage I couldn't escape. My breath came in ragged, trembling gasps, visible in the dim light filtering from the flickering bulb above the steel door. The cold seeped into me, a deep, bone-chilling cold that offered a perverse kind of solace, a physical discomfort that momentarily overshadowed the suffocating fear and anger still churning within me.

”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.

DOOM’S POV My shoulder still throbbed like a bastard, but I refused to let it show. I swapped my usual suits for a simple black shirt and a pair of tailored shorts, unbuttoned just enough to tease. It was warm tonight, and Sally liked casual Doom, something about seeing the devil without armor made her smile, maybe because it made her feel closer. The dining room lights were dimmed low, casting a golden warmth across the mahogany table. Candlelight flickered beside the fine china, and soft instrumental jazz hummed from the walls. I had told the staff to stay far away, tonight was ours.

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.