The Devil's Own Movie Novels & Stories

Every time I see the clumsy human beings struggling to lock the door, I wonder if I would have been faster if I were a character in that film, if I could have locked the church door before the devil entered. It’s not that humans can’t lock the door. The devil was faster. And in this horror movie, which is my life, the devil has the speed of light. Before I could lock it, Alessandro held the knob from the other side and pushed it open with so much force that I fell back, landed on my ass. Way to embarrass yourself, Luna. “What the fuck are you doing?” He asked me. I am the one who got kidnapped. I am the one who got humiliated. I am the one who is being used as a bargaining chip. I am the one

She'd given birth to the devil. The devil had just embarked on a journey of betrayal. He was the client, he was the devil, he was Sal - the best friend of Harvey Rhett.

He's the kind you run away from. If only my hormones would listen. A little bit of late night research yesterday showed me that Leone is the scariest thing to ever exist in this city. But what is even scarier than that? Nursing an unexplainable and worrying amount of chemistry with a man popularly known as "the Devil" by the criminal underworld. And for good reason too. He is as ruthless as they come, with a penchant for perfection that shows in all his assassinations, sporting a huge amount of political influence as a mafia boss that is crazy to begin to contemplate, as well as the kind of good looks to make any woman want to sin. Badly.

“No. He wants us there.” She glanced at him. “And we’re going anyway.” “Yes.” A slow smile spread across her face, not out of recklessness, but understanding. “Good.” Dominic shut down the system. “We move now.” Back above ground, the rain had picked up. Heavier now. Colder. Elara stepped out into it, letting it hit her face, clearing her thoughts. Vienna. A trap. A war. She glanced at Dominic as he joined her. “You realize this is exactly what he wants.”

I imagined the fear in her eyes when she realized who was after her. My reputation as Adriano Rion Giordani, known as “The Devil,” preceded me, and soon she would understand why. Minutes turned into hours. I began to grow restless. My hands were itching for killing. Where the fuck is Matteo? What is taking his time? I stopped working, checked the time (9:30 PM), and he walked in, still on my mind. “Did you find her?” I demanded. “Yes, sir,” he responded. “She doesn’t have a stable residence. It was difficult to—”

“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.” I shudder, breath hitching in my throat. At that same moment I remember the wise words of my mother. The same words I ignored the moment I let a stranger like Michael into my life and now Dustin and Mr. Memphis, who is apparently The Devil. ‘You enjoy playing in the mud, but remember

' 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒂 𝒖𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

I heard the shower running and made my way there. “Can you believe that bastard?!” I almost shouted. Cara let out a scream as I barged in. I ignored her and sat on the toilet lid. “Could you at least knock?! What if I was shaving?” “Sorry. Back to my problem.” I said dismissively, and she poked her head out of the shower to look at me. “I talked to the Devil.” “What Devil?” “That Devil, Damiano.” “Ah. Why? Miss him?” She winked, but I only scowled.

I observe them carefully, memorizing their faces. In truth, there is no shipment, no weapons, only bait. It is a false order I have created for one purpose: to expose the traitor hiding in my father’s house. I pour myself a drink, the sound of liquid striking glass sharp in the quiet. “If the shipment is attacked, I will know who the leak is. If not, we proceed cleanly.” Marco raises his glass in mock salute. “Smart. Just like Vittorio used to do.” I do not return the gesture. “I am not my father.”

Not yet. ‎Tonight, the devil had come for his own