A Devils Number
  • Reads 170,441
  • Votes 8,737
  • Parts 49
  • Time 6h 9m
  • Reads 170,441
  • Votes 8,737
  • Parts 49
  • Time 6h 9m
Ongoing, First published Sep 15, 2020
Mature
ORIGINALLY THIS STORY WAS: Assassin 006 





A man who knows only to kill and live in a cell is suddenly sent on a mission to murder a famous mafia boss. When he's caught, he has to throw everything he knows about the world down the drain when he realizes what (or who) exactly lives within his target. 


"What does that mean?" 

"What?"

"Soul mate, what does it mean?"

"I'll tell you later-"

"What am I?" 

"We're not human." 



He seemed to examine me with pissed off eyes. I was strapped down tightly to the chair and I kept my glare. The mission I was sent of was to kill this man in front of me and I couldn't do it. My boss was going to be furious with me if I came back. I would receive a punishment and so I decided that it would be better if the man in front of me would just kill me instead. I opened my dry lips to speak before gulping when he crouched down, both of his hands on my knees. They were warm and tan. 

"You're an interesting little thing. I really don't want to beat the shit out of you, but since you won't tell me who the fuck sent you, I guess I'll have to." He gave me a heavy frown and sighed. "Why'd I have to get something like you?" 

What was he talking about?
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College? No, this was paradise. Three years filled with partying, not so secret underground drug-deals, and hot-headed men sliding into beds like snakes with no self-control. Things were different now. I wasn't that perfect, frill-wearing angel Mama thought would walk into the house ring-beared. So many things had changed, except for one. Him. He was a disease, one I couldn't get rid of no matter how hard I tried. Everytime he's near, I feel myself turn into something I've never seen before. Like there's something under my skin only he is capable of bringing out. He's manipulative, twisted, and completely wrong in every way. I hate him. Yet every night, from miles away, I find him in my dreams. Mikhail Volkov Fuck the patriarchy. Better yet, fuck everything and everyone. It was a game of cat and mouse, me chasing victories every single day. The Bratva's constant want for war was what kept the fuel in my blood, burning up into flames whenever my knuckles made contact with another opponent. In the end, I'm always the one left standing. This fire in my bones, I feel it burst into flames while every dark memory, thought and desire runs into my fists. So many medals, but only the people around me could see them. The real battle was against my head. And maybe, just maybe, I was afraid to admit that I had no chance in winning it. She makes it harder. An angel with wings to everyone else, yet a master at unveiling those devil's horns only when I'm near. There's this darkness, this fire, in the both of us. The only difference is, she's better at hiding it. She was gone, far away, yet there was this tether dowsed in fuel connecting us, one that only lit up when she came back. Every time she's near, I feel the limits surrounding my wrath being tested. Then again, rules are only made to be broken, right? Mafia Dark Romance *Standalone*