Italian Devil Novels & Stories

From up here, the city glowed like a wound—fires smoldering, broken glass glittering, and the cries of the desperate echoing into the dark. Behind her, Dante’s footsteps were measured, deliberate, like a predator stalking the silence. He had grown quieter in recent weeks, his rage contained but seething like a furnace beneath the surface. The attack two nights ago had proven what they both already knew: there was someone else moving pieces against them. Someone smarter, colder, and more patient than Lorenzo had ever been. Amara didn’t turn when Dante finally spoke. “They call him Il Diavolo,” Dante said, his voice like gravel. “The Devil. An old ghost. I thought he was buried years ago, but

A thrill ran through me because to be fair, he did look like a boss to me. “Yes, the boss. Some people call him the devil, some go the foreign language route and call him diavolo which is Italian for devil. That should clue you in that he has Italian heritage hence his name, Luca Barone.” “Luca?” I giggled before I could stop myself. “Would you like to explain to me what's so funny, Miss Nova?” I swiftly clamped my lips in silence, and shook my head negatively. “I guessed so. Please refrain from interrupting me unnecessarily.”

I step out of the basement into the blasting hall of my club, where the world pretends I’m nothing more than a man with too much money and not enough soul. There's been a lot going on in my City. A lot I needed to focus on. My men knew not to go against me. They call me Il Diavolo — the Devil. But in this world, fear is power, and power is law. I don’t just run a business; I run an empire. Italy bows at my feet — from the cobbled streets of Rome to the blood-soaked alleys of Naples. Half of Spain answers to me, too. Every deal, every bullet, every drop of blood spilled—mine.

“People call him Devil, no one is born Devil, Life it makes them Devil, No one see the Good in them, No one understand what made them Devil, No one understand every Bad has Good in it, People just need someone to blame for their misery He is both Sun and Moon; he would burn daily to give a better life to his loved one, he stand like a shield in front of them burning the evils around them,

“Even after I’ve filled you three times today.” Adrian moaned loudly, pushing back to meet every thrust. His hole was slick and swollen, leaking Luca’s cum from earlier, but it still clenched greedily around his thick cock. Luca leaned over him, chest pressed to Adrian’s back, and bit down on his shoulder. “You love this, don’t you? Being used by the devil while the world hunts us.” “Yes,” Adrian gasped. “God yes.”

Oh no, not that, anything but that, she thought. “You have heard of me,” he smiled. He sounded satisfied. Emma nodded. Everyone that lived in the city knew the name Velky. It was the largest mafia group in the state with its centre in the city. And Bane Velky was the head of the family, the don, the big boss, the huge honcho, the Al Capone of the modern world. Emma felt her panicked brain spin out of control. “Calm down, angel,” Bane told her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

After a few seconds of eye-to-eye battle, he still maintained his silence, leaving Don Basco with no choice but to break the deafening silence between them. “Am I right? What do you think? (Am I, right? What do you think?)” Don Basco questioned; his lips painted with the image of the devil's grin. Without Don Basco's knowledge, the real devil was the young man in front of him—a devil who is hiding in human flesh with an innocent face, waiting for the right moment to attack his enemy and make them feel what hell is like.

I quickly looked down and shut my eyes in fear. All of a sudden, I felt a soft grip on my chin. Zachary slowly lifted my chin with his index finger. I looked at him in fear and nervousness but he smiled and stared at me softly. “You think I am a beast, don’t you? You have been told that we Devils are vicious scourges with no heart. We love to kill and find immense pleasure in others’ pain. We love to torture poor and innocent people. You’ll find it funny and hard to believe how can such barbarous demons fell in love with Angels against whom we only have a feeling of rancor. Isn’t it Moon Princess?“, he said, his voice was deep.

As Aiden entered, they all looked up. "Aiden," Lucifer said, his voice casual but edged with curiosity. "What’s going on? You look like you’ve got something on your mind." Aiden hesitated, then sat down. "I made contact with someone who can help us against The Shadows. Someone from Italy." Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "Italy? Who?" Aiden glanced at Damon, then back at Lucifer. "DVV." Lucifer’s expression shifted immediately, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. "DVV? The Devil’s Venomous Viper? How do you know her?"

His eyes cracked open, sleep still clinging to him. “Catalina,” he rasped. I didn’t speak. Just finished tying off the bandage. His hand brushed mine. Rough. Warm. “I need you.” I froze. Not because I was surprised. But because of something in me, something deep, something I’ve buried since the first day I walked into this house, snapped. He needs me. Me. Dante Lucchese. The devil of Italy. The man kings bow to and murderers worship. Needs me.