The Devil Is A Handsome Man Novels & Stories

“Of course he does. The Devil always does.” He blinked at her, unsure if she was joking. She leaned in slightly, adjusting the collar near his neck as she whispered, “Listen to me, cher garçon. The Devil cannot be understood, nor can he be coerced. You may think he loves, you may think he destroys, but really, it is all the same to him. It is all just… instinct.” Her eyes flicked toward Kain, who was now idly folding a page from one of his documents into neat, exact creases. “Keep your guard, mon ange. Always. You will be fine if you remember that.”

So people being wary of pretty people makes sense. The biblical devil was the most beautiful. Still, I cling to the Earth expression, the greatest trick the devil played was convincing the world he didn’t exist. For all the forms that evil takes, I know that true Devils lie in the details that every one seems to miss. Details, I shouldn’t have missed.

Only static answers. Then silence. Long. Heavy. Absolute. Something shifts inside me — slow, final, like a lock turning. The storm outside grows louder, but for once, it sounds like it’s coming from inside the villa. Inside the man I’m becoming. And I whisper into the dark: “Let them all come. I’ll bury every one.”

He smiles as he takes my helmet from Kylie and grabs my gloved fingers pulling the fabric off. “You mean unhinged. You just need to pay more attention.” It is not the first time I notice how handsome he is. The devil with an angels face. Too bad I have nothing more left in me to give to Killer. As I stare at his retreating form, I KNOW that it doesn't matter. A devil doesn't want your love, hatred or anyone of those things that get you hurt. No, the devil wants your soul and all your desires. The devil wants to own you until you can only see the fire that burns in his gaze.

Just then, Dante and his men happened to pass by and when I saw him, my eyes widened. “Help me.” I blurted out in a weak voice. “He does not care bitch.” the man said with a scoff. All of a sudden, Dante halted and so did his men, the two guards by his side. Then he walked up to the man and grabbed him by the hair, smashing his face into the wall. By the time the man's head was brought up, his face was bleeding. He received a punch to his face and another smash to the wall before being thrown to the ground like a mere object.

After riots, they usually get wasted or stoned as f---. At the moment I wasn’t challenging a masochist, certainly not a dog, but a devil. Should I act preppy or cute? NO! That’s disgusting. Act pathetic and beg? NO. That’s a loser’s thing. They say all I needed to do with a demon was cut its horns. How though?! I couldn’t even see the horns. "Fight me with your best, otherwise I’ll kill you. If you win, you and your brother will have your lives,” he said.

Internally, I grimace at the realisation that it is weirdly more gratifying to listen to, rather than the sound of me smacking my wife's ass as I take her from behind. He groans, spitting out blood, "Is that all you got, your wife has a better hand than you do." He mutters incoherently. I run my fingers through his hair which is drenched in sweat, yanking his head back, and I force him to meet my gaze, "You know, Castello Esposito. The wildest gimmick the Devil likes to play isn't him making you accept that he doesn't exist. It's him making you believe that you are on friendly terms. Acquainted." I growl, lowering my head, and getting right in his face. "So that when you finally did meet me

However, he was not for her and had been playing with her to get what he wanted all along. It had been awful seeing him with someone she thought was her friend. It did not startle Janice when it happened, since she knew he would eventually leave like the others. She had prepared for the day he'd say the same things others had said. Though it hurts, she was glad she didn't give herself to him. Because that would have been the worst. She wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes, neither would she be able to stare at her supposed friend. Yet, the person she had willingly given herself was the devil himself.

The Earl shrieked in wonder, "You call her a maiden! She is no maiden. She's a thief! A mercenary, unbelievable thief!" He continued barking while he walked backwards away from them, "She handed her drink to the Earl of Vetcom, said things too daring for any normal Scottish woman and stole food. You would not call such person a mai…" He found himself staggering suddenly, noticing he was just at the edge of a ditch, one he didn't notice because he was too busy shouting. While he found himself falling into it, a hand quickly gripped around his hard and tight. Gently, that same hand pulled him up, straight back to his balance. And it was the devil herself.

The devil is real. And he’s not a little red man with horns and a tail. He is beautiful, and that's because he is a fallen angel and he used to be God's favorite. Actually, the devil can be anyone. He can be two different people, different ages, different appearances all at once. I know all this because I’ve met him— I have met two, unfortunately. The devil came in form of two powerful Kings. They were beautiful. They were charming. They were loving and they were alluring. They were all those things until I saw their other side.