The Devil All The Time Novels & Stories

’ ME: ‘Just go on dreaming because it won’t happen. My phone buzzes again. The Devil: ‘My dreams usually come true.’ The audacity of this man. ME: ‘I will be the one to break that trend.’ The Devil: ‘Trust me when I say that I always get what I want, Evelyn.’ Who the hell does he think he is? God?????? ME: ‘Don’t tell me you’re falling in love with me Vincent Beckett.’ The Devil: ‘I think you’re the one who’s falling in love with me. :)’

“Too late. You already tried your luck with me.” I looked into his eyes—desperation, fear, and something pitifully like regret swimming beneath the surface. “You wanted to know why they call me the Mafia Devil,” I said, voice dr,opping to a whisper thick with menace. His nod was frantic. I smiled—a slow, cruel curve. “Do you get it now?” His eyes widened just before the cold barrel of my gun pressed against his temple. “I don’t do mercy,” I muttered. The shot echoed, final and unforgiving.

If the devil herself was shaken, and her minions looked like death, what the fuck was he a mere mortal going to do with the facts? Cass walked in a half hour later, showered, dressed in a pair of jeans, a white button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and looking way better than when she'd left him. "I'm sorry I left the way I did." "No problem, just tell me what the fuck is going on." "Pedro, do you have the names?" "Yes, the bastards went to a bar and bragged about what they did. One of ours was there and contacted me. Too easy if you tell me, I think they were told to be caught, force you into action."

He wasted no time in expressing his fury, his voice a thunderous growl. "Do any of you have any idea what you've brought upon us? Do you have any idea how much business alliances and trusted allies you al have cost me?" The room was paralyzed by his wrath, and none of us dared to meet his eyes. The tension was suffocating, and the fear that had gripped us was almost tangible. The man that stod before me looked nothing like the man I desperately used to crave. This one felt like the real devil, the same one the FBI painted a picture of to me. He didn’t even spare me a glance but i could rarely get the words out of my mouth.

He said, “Okay. Let’s have breakfast and then, I’ll have you for dessert.” Freya: “...” Inner Devil: ‘Now this is what I’m talking about!’ Inner Devil 2: ‘He’s not hungry, he’s starving. You’re the five-course meal, and he’s got no utensils.’ The devils laughed together before more remarks came. Inner Devil: ‘Your uterus better clock in. Overtime shift coming!’ Inner Devil 1: ‘Cancel your plans. You’re not walking straight till Friday!’

No women. “A devil with no weakness,” she murmured, the words barely louder than the crunch of the apple. Then a memory surfaced: the way he had devoured her the entire night, slow and relentless, as if her body were the only sin worth savoring. Her fingers tightened subconsciously around the book on devils she had just finished reading. Its pages had spoken of their insatiable hunger for untouched souls, pure, unchanging, untouchable. The moment a soul was altered in any way, it slipped forever from their grasp.

LEVITICUS DRAKOVIC RHODES. And the devil fell from the sky, tainting the hearts of men and the souls of the pure. What a crock of bullshit but I tell you, every man, every woman in this little town of joy thinks it. I am the devil. My brothers and I are the devils. We dare their sons to jump off the ledge, we tempt their daughters to do ‘bad things’, we bribe the sheriff to look the other way and we have the mayor on our payroll jumping as high as we can ask him to.

Lucian’s note had come with a final line: “The devil doesn’t wear horns. He wears charm. Find his weakness.” Ayla exhaled slowly. She was no longer Ayla Monroe. Not here. Tonight, she was a ghost. Inside, the gala pulsed with orchestrated elegance. Women in gowns worth more than Ayla’s rent glided past men with blood-stained hands wrapped in Armani. Waiters floated by with champagne. It would’ve been beautiful if she didn’t know who half these people were — or what they’d done to get here. Lucian’s voice echoed in her mind: “Serrano traffics secrets. You’ll be one of them by midnight if you fail.”

Grayson Voss I was supposed to be in a meeting with a cartel rat who thought he could play both sides. Instead, I ended up in a club that reeked of sweat, desperation, and lies. Club Delirium. Ironically named, considering it mostly caters to men trying to forget reality with vodka and silicone. I wasn’t there for pleasure. I was there because the club owner was late on his payments. And late payments in my world meant broken bones or buried bodies.

After a long moment, he stammered, "Y-you… you're a messenger of the Devil! Brothers and sisters, this one represents the Devil! Attack! We must kill this messenger—or the Devil will find us and kill us all!" He had always controlled people with his Devil theory. Hearing him speak now, the crowd stiffened, their eyes burning with murderous intent again. Ray smiled faintly. "Wrong… wrong… wrong. I am not the Devil's messenger. I am the Devil."