Married To The Devils Son Free Novels & Stories

Yet, he has this hold on me; he keeps drawing me in when I know that I should not. So with only but a smile, I pull him closer to me and lay lips softly against his. He only looks at me rather confused, “You do not wish for an explanation?” That, there, tells me that I have, in fact, heard him, so with those trembling hands, I only but whisper to him, “Are you really the Devil?” He softly chuckles at me, “The Devil’s son.” “But that still makes you a Devil, or are you one of those ungodly…?”

I ask, feeling bad for the woman who is blinded by love. Bethany began to answer in a bitter tone. “I truly don’t know what she sees in that man. Yes, he’s handsome but his character is truly quite ugly. He’s more of a hit it and quit it type of man. He’s been known to be the Devils’ son.” Bethany made a sound of disgust. “Devils’ son?” I spoke out loud. Dread slowly began to fill me. Like the horror of an avalanche coming a person’s way.

Armory and drug-related information all related to Braden and Atlas. Atlas was a little believable, because he’d shown a glimpse of that side of him, but Braden… I wanted to remain in denial so bad. But this…this file was solid proof that I never knew who I married and fell in love with, and right now, I didn’t even know who I was fucking, that well either. I was falling a fool three solid times. From what I’d just seen in this video, both brothers were dark entities wrapped in beautiful bodies and handsome, deceiving faces. Atlas a devil, Braden a demon.

"The man you just married is the leader of a crime organization that is not a part of the code of the mafia. They kill and destroy as they wish. He's worse than Sergio. Far worse." My blood ran cold. "Wh-what?" "Didn't he tell you who he is?" "Luca Vallario, that's what he told me." She nodded, voice shaky with terror, "Yes, but to the rest of the world, he's known as Lucifero." Oh God. What had I done? "The man you married isn't just a monster; he's the Devil himself."

The king immediately stood up and stomped out in anger. "Haha he's mother is different. She's a witch." The third son laughed out trying to clear the intense scene. "Ohh..." I drawled with a smirk "...if he's mother is a witch then he's not a demon nor the devil's son. Or... is your father the devil ??." I throwed another unexpected question and this made them uncomfortable. Sensing that they are disorientated, unknown courage came inside me. "Weather he's a demon, devil's son, the devil himself.. he's still my husband so stop trying to do whatever you want to do." I said intrepidly

"pl-e-ase... I moaned out loud. I am begging the devil for his touch proving that I am his SLUT. His gun made contact with my harden nipples and all I knew at that moment was I was looking forward to be his SLUT (end of mature content) I was really a SLUT because the devil just left the room without touching me. I wasn't expecting that at all because to him I am a slut and I should be used for his sexual escapades, he just left without a word which made me know he is bipolar man. I mean he switchs within minutes, this minutes he is sort of cool the next he is something you can't explain. Yes, he is a mafia leader and his moves shouldn't be known, I feel he and his dad have something like a s

Giulia sat beside me, one arm wrapped around my shoulders, her presence grounding me in a way nothing else could. From across the room, Vincenzo paced slowly, his own cup in hand, steam coiling into the cold air. His brow was furrowed, his expression unreadable. Everything he said about my dad, Valentino is crazy. Even though I know the Devil I married is capable of doing anything, I still can’t bring myself to believe it, to believe the man I love is responsible for my parents’ death? No, that’s crazy. I looked up at him.

She ran away and left her alone in the hands of this demon. She looked at Eric who had a devilish smile on his face, then stared down at her stomach. ‘Maybe you were meant to be a mafia after all.’

“Marva, Marva, Marva... I may be the granddaughter of Lord God, a daughter of a goddess, but I'm no saint. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Do you still remember when you tortured me happily, killed my son, and then finally killed me with satisfaction? Do you want me to make you remember what you did to us? It wasn't just that, you drove my husband mad, enough for him to commit the act of suicide. You both destroyed us. Do you think we are holy and a saint, enough for us to forget the despair, the pain, the anger, the sadness we felt that time?” I shook my head and answered my question. “No, we can't. Now tell me, do you have any right to negotiate with us? And besides, you can now st