Hostage To The Devil Novels & Stories

“Honestly, I just can’t wait to put an end to this already.” Colton watched the way my claws slowly came out. Longer, sharper. “You really came to take my life.” He says, outraged. “Of course you did because you sold yourself to the devil.” “Literally—you sold it when you went to Helios,” he snarls.

This Devil have never been learned his lesson, and was only trying to make him confuse. He let aside anything, and put his grudge to the Devil in his heart and mind. He roared, “You shall never live, you shall die in my hands, you Devil!” Hez suddenly burst into action, and lead the shadowy figure to surround the Devil. There's no escape path for the Devil, and Hez could only grinned. The Devil was so highly, yet who knows if he will think to escape? Hez was trying to put him into place, he was good as dust that turned bloody chunk of flesh.

“Devil was the only angel who dared to see himself on the throne, knowing he could never access it. But he became the king of the hell.” “Your rook is the devil of this world. Never let him forget it.” Capo came home, and Samson was waiting for him with three bags of ransom. “Samson,” “Your money,” Capo waved his hand at another man to take the bag and allow Samson to settle on the couch. “Is everything alright?” “Yes,” Samson swallowed. “I have something to ask you,” Capo had never talked to him like this. He always ordered. “I want Margarita to marry Aslan.” This was the second thing that penetrated his heart. It didn’t let him bleed, but the pain was the same.

His hands crunched the bones around my wrist. "Please. Please, don't kill me. I am not a spy,” I pleaded. He grabbed my hair and tossed my head backwards. He placed the knife over my neck. "Don Rossini is an old lousy man with loose plans. Say hello to the devil when you get to hell,” He whispered into my ear, the hair at the back of my neck rose high. He pressed the sharp blade over my neck. "Rossetti?!” His hands froze at a spot. He reduced his grip around my hair. I was able to see Valentine standing at the door.

A gilded cage with a view. My mind wouldn’t stop replaying it. The way his scarred fingers had locked around my jaw in the office. The low, amused chuckle when I threatened him. He didn’t want my compliance. Dante wanted my complete, humiliating submission. He wanted to break the daughter of the man who had dared to cross the Outfit and lived. _Click._ The sharp, metallic sound of the electronic lock disengaging echoed from the front foyer and cut through the room like a blade. Every muscle in my body went rigid. A cold wave of adrenaline flooded my veins, making my fingertips tingle with a sudden, panicked urge to run, to fight, to do anything but stand here and wait to be claimed.

His frame towering over her. She lowered her gaze, unable to stand those alluring eyes of his. He placed a finger beneath her chin, lifting her head and her gaze to meet with his. "Too late. You signed. You're mine little dove," Scott said, his deep voice low and menacing.

“That belongs to me if I wish for it.” Camela held his gaze firmly, her voice calm even though she felt scared inside. “You won’t have it.” He laughed softly. “Do you know who I am, little fox-bride?” “You’re the Devil,” she replied. “Not exactly,” he responded, stirring the drink in his goblet. “The Devil makes deals for power. I make deals for obedience.” “I don’t belong to you.” “Not yet.” The candles above them flickered, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw Vincent’s face lurking in the shadows at the corner of the room—pale and desperate, watching her. But when she blinked, he was gone.

One day, I’ll take revenge on everyone who wronged me. “I sold myself to the devil to survive. Now, I’ll use the devil’s name to bury you all.” I stare at the list of names, my fingers tightening around the pen until my knuckles turn white. Just writing them down feels like summoning ghosts I swore I’d never see again. They thought I’d vanish. That I’d crumble. But I’m still here. And I’ve aligned myself with a monster far more dangerous than any of them. A knock on the door breaks my thoughts. I quickly fold the paper and slip it into the drawer.

It was just a way for him to have control and power over me. But I’m the one with the power here. To get my revenge, I would do anything, I would give anything, and right now, I was selling my soul to the devil. But in this story, there are two devils. One doesn’t just know it yet.

In her eyes, I was less desirable already. Testing the zip ties on my wrists, I realized I wouldn't be able to break them unless I shifted. I drew my knees up to pluck at the rope wrapped around my ankles, but my fingers weren't strong enough to take the knots apart. I was as helpless as all the other women lining the hallway to the door of what had to be The Devil's Lair. The heavy wooden door looked solid and intact which surprised me more than it should have. I knew The Devil was supposed to be chained in his chambers. He was said to savage some of the virgins offered to him. He couldn't be too violent behind such a beautiful door, right?