Sell Your Soul To The Devil Novels & Stories

she'd willingly walk to him, and let him ruin her. She knew it was time. Time to let the whole world know that she already belongs to the devil. Time to let them know that the phrase 'sold your soul to the devil' is real in human terms. But in her case, she didn't just sell her soul to Drexton... She gave her soul to Drexton. Her devil. James' fingers curled into a fist, dark veins threatening to rip out, but she was too consumed in Drexton's present to notice.

It was impossible to save someone whose soul was sold to a devil. _________________________________________ Next will be updated soon. Keep on liking and commenting. Till the next adios

“Signing a contract to sell your soul.” Sell her soul?

“After this, you are mine, Sweet little thing. You’ll not be able to run or escape me. Because no matter where you run to, even though I have to turn this world upside down, I will find you and bring you right back to my side because you are bound to me.” I laughed. “Trying to scare me?” He looked almost human to me at that moment. He was trying to save me from himself? I took the pen from him and signed a contract with the Devil. Grinning, I fired his words right back at him. “Sounds like foreplay,” It was surprisingly a sunny day when I later said yes to marrying Damon in sickness and in lies. He said yes too and for a moment I wondered how fitting it was that I wore the black dress. Perha

Maybe I shouldn’t have signed the contract. I have been sold to the devil.... I brought out my phone to call someone I could talk to . Josh will definitely not pick my calls. I decided to call my best friend. Hey bestie “ Jane yelled In excitement over the phone Jane has always been overly dramatic. “Bestie “ I called in a shaky voice What’s wrong she asked I explained everything I was going through in the hands of Rico, how he treats me like I had no feelings. I’m sorry best” I promise to come see you once I get the chance to .

He blinked a few times, his eyes coming back to normality as he eyed me in confusion, "Yeah, I remember that. What does that have to do with this?" "I changed my mind. I'd sell my soul to the Devil if he would grant me immortality. That way we could be together till the end of time and neither one of us would have to go through the heartbreak of death. But that's impossible and you will go through that so it's better if we just live in the moment for as long as the moment lasts," by the time I was done tears were streaming steadily down my cheeks. My breathing was shaky and my heart hurt.

It’s a good thing that I didn’t remove my mask, even when I was struggling to breathe earlier. “You’re not catching me,” I whispered, like I’m talking to whoever’s sitting and watching me behind those lenses. I’m, going to be so fucking rich, and you wouldn’t even notice it. I pulled my hood lower, and moved quickly. I need to sell this on the black market. *****FLASHBACK***** [Three Hours Ago] I used to be a nobody. A starving kid fixing busted computers for barely enough money to survive. I wouldn't even dare to complain when my customers pay me cents for something I had to fix for hours.

As the elevator descended, only one filthy, terrifying thought filled my mind. I had just sold myself to the devil. And the worst part was, a dark, aching part of me could not wait to see what he would do to me next. ---

I feel like I need her to understand why I did what I did. “Did you ever think he needed the money? Maybe he was poor and had a family?” “Generally, anyone who comes to me needs money. It doesn’t matter what it’s for, Katie. If you make a deal with the devil for your soul and lose, he will take it. Well, in this case, I’m the devil. They made the deal, I was just following through with the soul taking part.” Her nose tips up, and her eyes grow with a fire that makes my dick ache.

the auctioneer said, “is an asset with confirmed operational success in extraction, infiltration, and destabilization. Proven adaptability under extreme pressure. No confirmed employer. No official record. A ghost.” A pause. “Bidding will open at four million euros.” Ayla’s spine went rigid. She didn’t need to ask. She knew. They were selling her. The first bid came instantly—a curt nod from the two-fingered man. Then a languid raise of the paddle from the woman in silk. Another followed, this one from an unseen corner—paddle number nineteen—its holder hidden by the angle of the room. The numbers climbed. Five million. Six. Seven.