The Gun Devil Novels & Stories

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.

Vito muttered. He raised his gun and started firing back, aiming for the shooters, for the drivers, for anything that moved. Bernard was beside him now, his own gun out, firing in controlled bursts. Gianna's men had scattered throughout the room, taking cover behind furniture, returning fire through the broken windows. The sound was deafening. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. And then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The gunfire from outside ceased. The engines revved. And the cars peeled away, tires screeching as they disappeared down the street.

Roman Thorne is the invincible team leader of college hockey. He is large, aggressive and a nightmare to the media. The press, however, does not know what makes the Briarwood Ice Devils so feared. They are not just players. They are ruthless, blood-swilling offspring of the most formidable crime business in the city. Trying to keep a small scandal which is about to blow up their small business, the Thorne family appeals to the service of Sloane Mercer. She is 24 years old and a brilliant ruthless PR fixer. Her task is easy: to improve the image of the team, to work with press, and not to put Roman in the prison. But Sloane has not come to save them. She is here to ruin them. Sloa

I let myself fall deep into my zone with red in my sight. “Gaetano, do you understand why they say never make a deal with The Devil?” I interrupted his laugh. He looked at me with narrowed eyes as I blew out the cigarette smoke into the night sky. I flicked the bud away and met his gaze, giving him a devilish smirk. “I’m about to show you why.” I drew my guns out at the same time men jumped out from the wooden crates. And a war with fire began.

I closed my eyes, accepting my fate. Click! Click! Click! I slowly open my eyes, isn't it supposed to be a loud gunshot, why empty clicks and no harm on me? I checked myself again to see if I somehow got injured. There wasn't any, nothing, zip, nada. A slow loud mocking clap filled the warehouse, beside me was the devil himself. He has this huge smile on his face, he was enjoying this. But, why would he give us a gun without a bullet? Was all this a test?

"I think you should be asking yourself why. Who do you and your friends work for, huh? What kind of work do you do? This is probably the perfect ending for all of you." Devon was trembling with rage as he raised his pistol, shouting, "I'm going to f*cking kill you, you bastard!" Bang! Devon pulled the trigger, and a bullet shot out. It began to slow down just as it was about to reach Wilbur, then flew back and lodged itself in Devon's forehead. Devon widened his eyes in disbelief and indignance, falling backward to the ground.

“Do you think I’m a damn child?” Scorpion fell to the floor in fear. “I’m sorry, My Lord!” He closed his eyes as he pleaded for mercy, from his deranged boss. The devil smirked as he watched his second in command. He loved the scent of fear. It makes him want to bask in it. “You thought you could lie to me?” The Devil smirked. “You should have thought more about it before lying.” The devil raised the gun. And unexpectedly, he shot Scorpion in his right leg.

“Drink.” “Or you can tell us if you’re a pimp or Daemon has been into some cheap laid these days. Come on, girl. Humor us.” Her hand tightened around the gun under the table. Devon almost lost her cool but she managed to pick it back up a second before it could drop on the floor. These girls! Would it be too much if she wanted to put a hole in these women’s heads? And what is it to them if Daemon wanted to do it with some women? Is he some kind of demigod they worship?

After a few seconds of eye-to-eye battle, he still maintained his silence, leaving Don Basco with no choice but to break the deafening silence between them. “Am I right? What do you think? (Am I, right? What do you think?)” Don Basco questioned; his lips painted with the image of the devil's grin. Without Don Basco's knowledge, the real devil was the young man in front of him—a devil who is hiding in human flesh with an innocent face, waiting for the right moment to attack his enemy and make them feel what hell is like.

So in a way, I truly deserve the name La Diabla because I'm the devil's spawn. "That doesn't excuse what you did. He raised you, fed and clothed us. How could you do that?" "With a knife" "What?" "You keep asking how I could do that. With a knife, Andres. I used a knife" Blood drains from his face "You don't even regret it"