Novel & Cerita The Devil At His Elbow Book

This is forever. “Here lies Lucian D’Argento—devil to the world, but a man who loved enough to conquer death.” [TOPE]

I don't know how he manages to stay like that all the time. He exhaled loudly and leaned back, his fingers clasped together while he blessed me with his perfect stares. I bit my lip as I was nervous and walked closer to him. When I reached his desk, I put my hands on it and leaned down. I am sure, I am giving him a perfect show by flaunting my b**bs. "You know Delilah, you are the only woman who comes to my office. Otherwise, not even my assistants will come here." He confessed and I felt proud of myself. No matter what, there was something at which I am better than anyone else.

Audrey asked, curious to know more. "The devil doesn't bargains, and as possessive and envious as he is, he wasn't willing to just walk away just because God said so" he said, "because he had most of the humans on his side 'cause they where his after all from selling their souls, he formed minions to rebel against God's orders"

He clutched his fist tightly and closed his eyes to calm down his rising temper. Aashmaan was blinking her eyes and her gazes were on him. She stared at him at how his veins were popping out from his muscular body. Devil glared at the man who tried to snatch his angel away from him DEVIL punched the man in his stomach and shouted, "SHE IS CLAIMED BY ME. SHE HAS BEEN MINE FROM THE MOMENT WE BECAME ONE. HOW DARE YOU PUT YOUR DIRTY HANDS ON MY CLAIMED ANGEL"

Only the foolish make deals with the devil. Only the ones drowning in pride… or pain. Because the devil doesn’t barter. He doesn’t wait at crossroads. He doesn’t ask for permission. He takes. He does not knock—he kicks down the door. He does not beg—he commands. He does not love—he consumes. He wraps his hunger in charm, his cruelty in confidence, his madness in tailored suits and cold, perfect smiles. And once you catch his eye, it’s already too late.

Maybe start planning my next escape for real this time. And then—he did something that caught me off guard. Ronan Blackwood, the Devil himself, squatted in front of me. Not stood. Not loomed. Squatted. Eye level. Holding two glasses of wine in his large hands. “What’s the problem?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. I looked away. “I’m fine,” I muttered.

'And who the fuck is Leone fucking Andreotti?' What a mouth. What a foul mouth. Suddenly, my pants are just too tight. Agent....Thirteen… She has no idea, but she just summoned the fucking devil, and he wants so badly to play with her. Who knew those lips... those dark embers in her eyes would arouse me so much?

Are they some kind of a big ass organization, where bastards like Cole gather? When I turned to look at the devil, my confusion grew. He was just staring at the in front silently, like he was afraid he’d lost his sight out of him. I wanted to ask him questions, but he looks like he’s going to implode at one touch. He’s standing completely still, while his eyes are fixed on the old man with an intensity I’ve never seen before. The casual, smirking Cole I know is gone. He’s looking deadly. The politician—or whatever he is—wraps up his speech with a practiced smile. “Please, enjoy the rest of the evening.” He stepped down, and the room erupted into polite applause.

He looked at the young man, a very man of Denever who immediately recover from shock. “So the devil-” he gritted his teeth when he realize the glare coming from the woman who lecture him earlier. He laughed like a madman and stood highly, forgetting the reason of why he even here this moment. “Spotlight never failed to be reliable as ever,” he said, narrating a damn thing. “You, for sure has decide to show that despicable horns of yours, Coplete.”

I whisper in fear. Tsking, and biting his lip, he shakes his head. “Oh, no. Don’t think of it like that,” he says sweetly, his nefarious smile shifting to sweet and beautiful. “I’m just a fragment of dust of what you may term as the devil. So small and useless until I’m given instructions by my boss. In this case, Mr. Memphis, otherwise known as Devlin, and the water of power he pours to me in form of instructions, stirs my little particles into a pile of mud and I get my power from him. But for now, I’m nothing more than a human just like you and everyone else in your little world.”