The Hellfire Club Book Novels & Stories

I love and hate being right. I lower my head, and I slightly shake my head in amusement. I don't want Corina to figure out we are all making fun of her. She seems like the type of person to be slow in figuring out stuff. But once she does, 'Hell hath no fury.' I don't want to be in the cross-hairs of her ire. "You are lower than nothing, nursemaid," she hisses at me. Too fucking late on not receiving her fury! I keep my eyes down. I am not in the mood to deal with a mistress. It's already been a hell of a day. Adding to my misery in dealing with my dead husband's doppelgänger mistress would be too much to bear at this juncture.

Chapter 163: Paranoid Damon DAMON'S P.O.V Keaton thought I was in the company now. But I am in a coffee shop where it is exclusive for the rich only. I waited for Dad. It's been over thirty minutes. I wanted to call Keatton to kill the boredom, but I couldn't. He does not have a cellphone. I ordered him to destroy it. I have a strong feeling that there are a traitor and a snake in the mansion. I do not know who, but only their tongue will have no bruises. Because I will make sure they regrets why he dared to betray me. I will make them feel hell when I find out who they are, stupid! I am a good friend, but I am a demonic enemy. When I get angry? I do not know the word stop and forgive. Blood

I hadn’t seen her in years now. After finding my way to a demon club that she attended frequently, I gritted my teeth, cursed myself out, and stepped into the building. Fire burned through the first room, the flames licking the ceiling and the heat hotter than fucking hell. It ensured that only demons stepped into this space; no other species were allowed. Once I walked through the fucking fire that seared the edges of my clothes, I opened a heavy metal door and stepped into The Inferno. Demons in their truest forms sauntered around the room, their horns out and lengthened and their eyes a piercing red.

Above it, red letters spelled the word: “TROJAN.” “N—No! Stop! Please, Lorenzo! Let me go!” Lorenzo shoved me forward, the door swinging open with eerie ease, as if it had been waiting. “Have fun with the devil, you fucking whore,” he growled, slamming it shut behind me. The lock clicked, sealing me in. The room swallowed me whole. The club's throb faded into a complete silence, replaced by the hiss of a fireplace and the faint crackle of flames. Shadows danced on black marble floors, the air heavy with cigar ash, whiskey, and something primal I couldn't name.

Third-Person POV Once Sebastian arrived at the manor, he gazed at the smoldering embers of the fire and the sharp scent of burning wood that permeated the air. His heart seemed to stop as he dashed through the smoke and dust into the master bedroom. Panicking, he looked around frantically, eyes widening in shock. There was no body on the floor. "Where is she?" He turned around, lowering his voice. The Capo in charge of security knelt at the door. "Don Quinn, the funeral home... has no records of receiving the body. That ambulance disappeared after entering the surveillance cameras' blind spot, and the license plate is fake."

Bang! Riddled with bullets, Lucy collapsed into a filthy puddle. Her eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the black sky as the light slowly faded from them. It was a miserable end, identical to my own death in the rain in my past life. But Henry, having killed the traitor, didn’t get his comeback. His reputation for treachery, for slandering a loyal subordinate, and for being so blind he drove his family into the ground, had spread through the entire North American Mafia.

Inside was a single object, bound in a frost-coated bark, etched with the golden spiral. It pulsed once in his hand and then went still. And the cathedral listened. Kieran opened the book and read out loud: “Those who read this book have already been damned. When you pass through those doors of how you so crave, it shall be your demise in the true self of you. For you shall see it, the thing that is everything.” Kieran gulped as he carried on reading.

"You think it's good, right?" "Yes." "My sister advised me to stop frequenting the club also; you see a lot of jerks there. This is the reason why I'll be forever jealous of Storm's woman. Any woman he falls in love with won't have to worry, because he'll never cheat on her. He'll remain loyal to the woman forever. I hope that woman turns out to be you; you seem pretty cool to me." "I truly hope he falls in love with you."

Huracio The last few hours were hectic. Not only did Helena slip into my office, but someone set fire to Salvatore’s club after tearing it apart. Four people died, and several files went missing. Everything happened at the same time, effectively preventing either side from calling for backup. How did she pull it off? Who is helping her? “We have underestimated your girlfriend,” Salvatore grumbled. “I think it’s time we bring your wife in.” My heart trembled. “Bring her in for what?” I casually asked, trying not to sound worried or antagonistic.

The monster inside him roared, craving more, yet yielding to the unyielding heat of Eli's claim. Every touch, every whispered command, every fiery kiss was a strike of passion, a battle neither wanted to lose, but both needed to win. The air around them crackled, flames licking higher as they dove deeper into each other, a Hellfire set ablaze by desire, raw and untamed. Leo's growl mixed with Eli's breathless moans, a symphony of control and surrender that echoed into the night. No rules. No limits. Just the burning, insatiable hunger between two souls who refused to back down.