Novel & Cerita El Diablo Prisoner

The prison had its own magical autonomy, which is why people took locking people up here very seriously. And the problem with Dinora was that she wasn’t in a position to negotiate; she knew her odds, which is why I saw her realize that the hopes they’d had had been dashed. And that was what I wanted to bring to the table. “The Great Dungeon?” she asked, a slight tremor in her voice. “Yes,” Elijah said, crossing his arms. “You’re right on the verge, and it’s only a matter of hours before a verdict is handed down that will lock you away there for life. So thanks for making our job easier.”

"Ah-ah-ah-ah!" He was extremely surprised by her sudden scream. He turned around in bewilderment, and the handsome man inside the labor camp looked like he wanted to kill him, glaring with bloodshot eyes and shouting, "Let go! Let go! You despicable scoundrel! I will kill you! I will kill you!" His frantic and mad yelling left the man in the red robe blinking a few times, turning to ask someone, "What's going on?" Alpha Levi, still calm, pulled the yamen back in place, "Are you steady?"

*Damian* I am held in chains on a platform outside of any cell block. I was on my knees, my head hanging low since the collar on my neck is so heavy. I was weak, I was starved and dehydrated, days without sleep. Every day, a woman comes to torture me with something new to offer. I’ve been beaten, stabbed, drowned, burned, suffocated, and much more. Yet somehow I healed quickly and no scars appeared on my body. I look up to see the sun rising over the wall, the cold air from the night still lingering. The sun was warming me up but not by much. I needed to escape! I need to do it today or else I’m afraid that my life will end here. I try to get up but my legs are weak from sitting on my knees.

I commented, remembering that despicable creature who had tormented Catherine and Alexander. "No, but he's a legend. See, when he arrived, he was punished for leaving his accomplices hanging. He didn't just get a beating, he was tortured, lost his leg and was completely disfigured, covered in scars all over his body. He spent months in solitary and didn't even want to leave, but Diablo ordered them to force him out, so everyone could see what he was capable of. Chuck is the example and nobody messes with Diablo because they don't want to end up like Chuck! Now Chuck drags himself around the corners of the prison and avoids everyone, lives in his corner, and he was nicknamed Chuck because he

“The safe house is a black site prison three hundred feet below the volcanic rock. You’ll have your ten million, Elio. It’ll be sitting in an account you can never touch, in a room you can never leave, while you rot in the dark for the next forty years. That is the mercy I’m offering. You get to keep your life. I get to keep your soul.” Elio let out a guttural, animalistic howl of rage, struggling against the operatives, but they were machines of muscle and Kevlar. They clipped him into a transport harness and signaled the winch. “You’re a monster!” he shrieked as he was jerked into the air. “You’re worse than Velez!” “I’m a Ramirez,” I shouted back over the roar of the drone rotors. “We don

Jaymes said, stepping in and twisting the man’s arm behind him as she shoved him onto his stomach. Stefanie stepped back, her face numb. Some part of her realized that were it not for the safety, she would have put two bullets right between the man’s eyes. The men had the others disarmed and on their knees with their hands behind their heads. “Now,” Nick said to the leader. “Since you aren’t my worst nightmare and I might be yours, who are you and what did you want with us?” “Jose,” the man said. “Anybody who comes in a helicopter with guns must answer to El Diablo Sinclair. He pays us well to bring him guests.”

" The door to my room was opened and the dancer from the nightclub entered through it, she was wearing a robe and was barefoot, I got up sitting on the bed and that woman stopped a short distance away from me and without a word she took off her robe, only wearing one beautiful red lingerie I tried to hug her but she dodged pushing me back on the bed and then she started dancing sensually her eyes fixed on mine and then crawling on the bed she came on top of me and as much as I wanted to kiss her, touch her I couldn't follow it, it slipped from my hand like water between fingers. I was scared soaked in sweat and my heart was pounding inside my chest, I was scared, I had never thought so much

After showering in the rpivate room I now have in my office, I went down to the basement of the bar, where I usually have my torture room for my traitors and the stench of blood, vomit and shit hit my nose and I smiled. Revenge is fucking sweet, I live to see the faces of my enemy fall when they realized their life was going to end, now I'm worse than before, after what happened to Fiorella I've changed and El diablo has now become a demon. My face is the last thing to see, entering the steel basement, there was that traitor sitting with his hands and legs tied, trembling. He was in charge of my shipments and he was very good at making deals and sealing them, earning me millions.

“She was supposed to be my daughter… in another life.” *Flashback* "You’re sure it’s him?" Darius Voltaire's voice was calm. Too calm. He stood in the dim hallway of the underground prison wing, dressed in a simple black suit, his silver cufflinks glinting under the flickering lightbulbs. The four men standing before him were built like tanks. Former military. Now mercenaries. Scarface..the one who spoke the most…nodded, eyes gleaming. "Jordan Castillo. Cell 403. He’s in there right now writing some damn letter like he thinks he’s got time."

I saw the face of the woman I had locked in a room across the city. “Let’s go,” I told Antler, walking toward the exit as the screams of the waking man began to rise over the crackle of the flames. “We have another appointment.” Later that evening, we moved to the high-end private wing of the state prison to meet with Dorian Iglesias. Even behind bars, the man exerted a gravity that demanded respect. “I have carried out your orders, Sir,” I reported, standing with Antler who was leaning against the wall with a bored look.