"The Devil is real. And he's not a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful. Because he's a fallen angel, and he used to be God's favorite"- American Horror Story
TAO Nightclub- The club is filled with music, drugs, and reeking of sex, a man in his late 20s walks over to the VIP section of the club into the most decorated room overlooking New York City; the man walks over to his Capo and whispered something into his capo's ears. The Capo nodded, looking down at the city; he loved standing above people and seeing the gap between rich and poor, much like any other billionaire on the planet.
The Capo wasn't a model, but God knows he should've been one, with his Zeus-like height, titan-like shoulders, lush eyebrows, well-shaped nose, bow-like lips that always invited the opposite sex, dark hair so neatly done, his eyes resembling two blue pools of sapphires, and that muscular body resembling God Apollo, the man could even tempt a nun to sin. No one in their worst nightmares will think of this man as a murderer, but, as they say, the devil always comes in disguise.
"Did you inform brother of this, Silas?" asked Rafael Cavallo, "Si Capo, but he is with signora Maya, "saying this Silas left.
Victor and Rafael are twins, not identical, but one could say that they are the same person, from their mannerisms to their likes. They share everything from clothes to women, except for Maya, who is off limits to Rafael, or was she?
Victor and Rafael are dangerous men with businesses to run. They know who will follow them until the end and whom to cut loose when they no longer serve a purpose. They are tough and respected in the business, and they support each other incredibly well; while Victor is the brains behind the tech company and a great tracker, Rafael is an architect and a great assassin. End of the day, they both share the businesses and profits.
Rafael smirked hearing Maya's name; while he was deep in his thoughts, a girl walked over to Rafael, hoping to get him worked up; the woman swayed her hips and walked over to him, "you seem tense, let me relieve your stress," saying this, the woman palmed his crotch, and started massaging it.
Rafael was hard, but being the psychopath that he is, he grabbed the woman's hand, pulled out his gun, and put it in her panties, saying, "never touch me without my permission" her horniness vanished into thin air and fear took over, the man smirked looking at the fear in her eyes said, "Aww!.What happened slut? afraid I am going to shoot this used pussy? you were brave a second ago trying to seduce me".
The woman was terrified, feeling her cover blown; the man pulled her hair back in a tight grip, "did Marcel think sending a slut to seduce me would get the work done"? Uttering this, he pulled his gun from her crotch, traced it along the length of her body and back to her pussy, "forget seducing me, I will fuck when I want to fuck, whom I want to fuck, don't ever tell me what to do," and shot the woman dead in her pussy.
The bullet went right through her body and came out of her head, spilling blood everywhere; he loved seeing people who cross him bleed and die, but shooting this woman in her pussy brought him some twisted satisfaction. Pulling the gun out from her, "Dumb whore", he handed it over to the man next to him to clean it.
The door opened when Marcel Blanc walked in with his gang; Marcel Blanc was the leader of the French Mafia Faucon de Nuit, a rival gang to Victor and Rafael's gang "Morte." Marcel sighed at the dead woman, "You've killed my best whore Rafael. Do you have any idea how much she costs?"
Rafael chuckled, "please. If she is your best, I don't want to know how the rest are" Marcel walked over to Rafael and took a seat opposite him, "we need to figure out a way to avoid each other's paths" this made Rafael chuckle, "you blasted one of our warehouses, Marcel, you used our manager against us."
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/320337748-288-k781085.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
Devil's Snare
RomanceHe dragged her to the basement; it smelt like fresh blood, human flesh, and death. The walls had blood smeared on them as if it was canvas, and death was their muse. He pushed her in, hovering over her, "Don't call a monster by its name, Petard; he...