Fami Death Devil Novels & Stories

Lily Peterson's childhood sweetheart, Sean Clements, ran over my 70-year-old mother in his car while he was drunk-driving. Because of that, Mom died on the spot. But Lily insisted on signing the letter of forgiveness for Sean. "My mother-in-law had planned on scamming Sean for more money, so she lay beneath the wheels on purpose. She should be the one taking on the entire responsibility." Not only did Sean get released as an innocent man, but he also received the ten-million-dollar payment given by the insurance company as compensation for his emotional distress. "Honey, I grew up with Sean since we were kids. I can't just sit by and watch his life get ruined by imprisonment! Can't you be more gracious and stop bringing this issue up?" After leaving the police station, Sean uploads a post on his social media feed in a high-profile manner. "Lily looks so gorgeous when she defends me in front of others! Childhood sweethearts will always be the closest people in life!" Lily leaves a like on Sean's post right in front of me. I remain eerily calm. "Let's get a divorce, Lily." She huffs coldly in return. "You just want me to console you, right? Tristin Foley, you're already 30 years old. Can you stop being childish?" I've already brought up divorce multiple times in the past. That's why Lily refuses to believe that I will leave her for real. But what she doesn't know is that I've snuck in a divorce agreement into the documents meant for the case closure registration, and she has personally left her signature there.

Alaric is a man of great wealth, marrying an ordinary girl does not make him poor. But will Alaric's encounter with Emerald, a cold girl, change Alaric's nickname as the 'Demon King' because of the way he leads a big company? Alaric does not love Emerald, and neither does Emerald. They are united by the bond of marriage only because of an arranged marriage. Stay tuned!!!

I was engaged at eight o’clock. By nine, I was invisible. Elara Sinclair’s engagement ends in front of cameras and Manhattan’s elite when her fiancé carries another woman out and never looks back. The world watches. The lie spreads. And sympathy is given to the wrong woman. But accidents can be planned. Victims can be fake. And love can be weaponized. Elara refuses to stay silent in a world built to erase her—and the truth is far more dangerous than anyone expects.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

I'm Lilith. My biggest trauma used to be my dad forgetting to book my Santorini villa, I know, the absolute horror of it all. I had the Porsche, the diamonds, the designer wardrobe that took up two whole rooms, and Jax, the perfect boyfriend who looked at me like I hung the moon. I thought I was the main character. Plot twist? I was wrong. Turns out I wasn't being raised as the Alpha's darling. I was being fattened up for slaughter. My parents didn't love me, they were just my wardens, keeping me soft and pretty and completely clueless. And that Gala everyone kept whispering about? Not my debutante ball. An auction. I got sold to the Triad like a piece of art, like a handbag, like I was something to own. The Triad. Three terrifying, bloodthirsty Alphas who make the monsters under your bed look like stuffed animals. They need me for some twisted prophecy I never signed up for, and they don't care what I want. Obviously. And the cherry on top of this hot-mess express? Jax held the door open for them. My perfect boyfriend counted his money while they dragged me away. They think they can break the spoiled princess. They think I'm just a "Spawn of Lilith" meant to be served on a silver platter. Soft and sweet and easy to swallow. Here's what they don't get. When you take away a girl's credit cards, her freedom, her whole damn life? The monster underneath is way more expensive to deal with than a few Birkins ever were.

Fiona Thornwood never wanted a mate, especially not Logan Blackridge, the ruthless and dangerous Alpha of a rival pack but when her uncle makes a deal to force them together, Fiona is thrown into a life she never asked for. Logan is powerful, feared and hiding a dark past. Fiona is strong, stubborn and refuses to be controlled. They can’t stand each other but the mate bond won’t let them walk away. As danger grows and a prophecy connects their fates, Fiona and logan must decide: fight each other or fight side by side to win their rival packs. Can hate turn into something more or will their bond tear them and their world apart. Let's unravel this tale of rejection, powers between burning emotions they both can't resist.

In the midst of a bustling metropolis, Sumire, a diligent and determined orphan with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, is engrossed in her studies while seated on a park bench under the radiant rays of the summer sun. It is here that she met a five-year-old boy, who unbeknownst to her, will change the course of her destiny. Mort, her fated mate, is an enigmatic vampire whose heart is captured at the very first glimpse of Sumire. Little does she realize that a world of supernatural beings surrounds her, as Mort's obssesion and desire for her sets into motion a series of events that will forever alter her life's trajectory. Their initial meeting serves as the threshold to an unknown realm, one inhabited by lurking monsters whose predatory instincts unveil a perilous threat. On a fateful night, beneath the crimson shroud of intimacy, that Mort awakens Sumire's dormant memories and primal thirst for blood. This awakening occurs whilst their enemies lurk menacingly outside their bedroom door, launching an unsuspecting assault on the bounty placed upon her head. How will Sumire navigate this newfound reality, where the tales of mere mortals pale in comparison? Will she be able to unravel the enigma of her own existence before it engulfs her?

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes, he's my son. My son is dead, Joshua. From now on, there's nothing between us.

The woman in Eden's arms should have been me — but I died on the marking ceremony night. The life that I had planned properly since childhood was ripped away without mercy. My supposed mate and twin sister danced around in glee, looking very happy. If only they knew I was standing before them right now as a ghost — watching every smile, every touch, every stolen moment. Quietly waiting to watch them fall from their high pedestal.

My dad collapsed from a sudden heart attack and died. The shock hit my mom like a freight train, and she blacked out cold. By the time I raced home from college, his body had already been reduced to ashes in the crematorium. Grief barely had a chance to sink in before the debt collectors pounded on our door. That was when the ugly truth emerged. My dad had secretly racked up billions in loans, saddling my mom and me. A year later, the relentless harassment from those goons drove my mom to despair. She ended her life, and I was forced to drop out of school, scavenging dumpsters just to scrape by. But fate had a cruel twist in store. I spotted my "dead" dad, alive and thriving, hosting an extravagant birthday bash for his secret son. I stormed in, desperate for answers, only to be hurled out by security. My head cracked against the pavement, and everything went black. When my eyes fluttered open again, I was inexplicably back on that fateful day of my dad's heart attack.