The Devil In A Suit Mga Nobela at Kwento

It was just a way for him to have control and power over me. But I’m the one with the power here. To get my revenge, I would do anything, I would give anything, and right now, I was selling my soul to the devil. But in this story, there are two devils. One doesn’t just know it yet.

I guess it is the inner happiness that brings shine to the face and I am not even one percent happy with this engagement. As the girl left my room, I turned my head as I felt someone's presence. The devil was standing on the gate. He was wearing a black suit, and there was his infamous sinister smirk plastered on his face. "You are looking tempting," he said stepping towards me. His eyes were filled with nothing else than lust and obsession. I looked down avoiding his gaze that was enough to make me feel insecure. His eyes were making me feel as if I am wearing nothing. It felt like he is scanning my soul through his stares. I have never felt so much uncomfortable with anyone before.

“You really have no idea who you married, do you?” My body went still, my heart in my throat. Is he really bad? Is he truly the devil people spoke of? Is it too late to redeem him now? “He’s a devil wrapped in a suit,” he said. “You’re just too blinded by whatever childish fantasy you’re living in. But don’t worry soon enough, he’ll show you exactly who he is. And when he finds out about that little mess you’ve been hiding—your useless daughter—he won’t just ruin you… he’ll destroy her too.”

Had he always been this selfish? My thoughts were immediately silenced when a new voice sliced through the clamor, calm, and utterly lethal. "One hundred million." The room fell silent. Even the auctioneer froze, gavel suspended mid-air. I forced my heavy eyelids open just long enough to see him. He stood at the very back, half-shrouded in shadow. Black suit tailored to perfection. Black mask concealing the upper half of his face. But that silhouette was unmistakable. Everyone in the mafia world knew it. The Devil. Carlos Hernandez. The man they called the Devil in Armani because he destroyed empires while looking like he had just stepped out of a Milan runway.

She felt Olivia before she heard her. Olivia made her way downstairs. She'd heard the car drive up over an hour ago and wondered what kept Cassandra away. Then she'd thought about it, and she'd known. Olivia's judgment. Olivia's sense of right and wrong. Olivia's naive thinking was that the world was simply black or white. She couldn't change the fact that she hated what Cassandra did, or what she stood for. And she couldn't start thinking that even though everyone around her thought they were the good guys, they weren't. But she could offer Cassandra the comfort of a friend. She'd grown up in this world, she'd seen the worst kind of people in it. Emma, Vance, Pedro, and Cassandra weren't li

No humanity, just hunger. “You’re him,” she whispered. “The Devil of the Underworld.” He bowed his head slightly, a mockery of courtly manners. “Dante Moretti. Though most only whisper my name.” Her heart pounded. Dante Moretti wasn’t just a crime lord—he was a myth. A monster in a designer suit. A man with more blood on his hands than the war itself. Rumors said he didn’t age, didn’t bleed, didn’t sleep. That he struck deals in shadows, and those who betrayed him were never found again. Or if they were, it was in pieces.

“…just like your mother.. You are a bigger devil than she ever was.” My eyes flew open and the steering wheel vibrated beneath my hands. The engine was still running.. Sunlight had finally broken across the skyline. My chest rose and fell in ragged breaths as the words echoed inside my skull. You’re a monster… Just like your mother… You’re a devil..

"You gave her that money willingly. Last I checked, you were practically celebrating. So happy about this." "Things changed." She changed them. "She's in my territory now, Dmitri. That's all that matters." A beat of silence. Then — "The devil is coming down to hell, gentlemen." His voice dropped away from the phone as he announced it to the room. "Brace yourselves." I ended the call. Good mood. Excellent, in fact. Time to let the beast out.

Vito continued, “Stay the fuck away from everything I own. You look in their direction again, you breathe in their air, and the next time I walk into one of your places, I won’t be alone. And you won’t be breathing. Do you understand me?” Matteo’s jaw worked back and forth. He glanced at the laptop screen again, watching Vito’s men laugh and relax on camera, completely oblivious. “You fucked up first.” He muttered finally. “You played me.” Vito pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down like he had all the time in the world. “Are you sure about that?” “I don’t need a fucking angel to reveal that.” Vito laughed dryly. “Alright. What have you got to fight me with?”

But like I thought he would, he ignored me. He parked the car successfully and stepped out, adjusting his Armani suit. His wristwatch glistened beneath the sunlight. It was then I noticed how tastefully he had dressed, he looked incredibly dashing. His hair slicked back, some stray strands falling over his face, shaping his already chiselled jaw, the suit strained against his huge physique, making him look dangerous yet charming at the same time. “ What are we doing here!” I asked again, my voice louder this time and then he looked at me, his blue eyes grew darker.