The Diávolos: Part Two

By Nouha Jullienne

Angelica

Betrayal.

It cuts deep, di

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nouha Jullienne Atoui
• Release date: Mar 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9781068825729

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Next, the man calls out.

He holds a clipboard, his face buried in the page as he marks off a checklist.

A young girl approaches him. She nervously fiddles with the hem of her sullied white dress. Tears stain her dirt-crusted face, her heartbeat accelerating with every step she takes closer to the people who will ultimately decide her fate.

She glances back to the scared girls she’s spent hours, maybe days, clinging to. They don’t know each other, but their trip has brought them closer. She shoots them a frail yet encouraging look, an expression that means ‘I know how you feel.’

Shared life experiences can bring people together, bind them, but who knows what unique experience the others have had prior to this. The girl isn’t sure she wants to know. Having endured her own distress, she’s not confident she can handle any more.

The man doesn’t lift his head from the board and aims his question to the woman next to him. What’s this one’s name?

A subtle tremor runs through the little girl’s body, and the weight of her anxiety presses upon her shoulders, causing a slight hunch, as if she’s attempting to shield herself from what might happen.

The woman opens her folder and flicks through it, nodding as she gets on the correct page. Iris. Last name’s Karras. Brown eyes. Five feet, two inches. Fourteen years old.

The man tilts his head as he checks things off his list.

The woman continues, Her mother was a mistress, the helper at an estate in Old Cebrene. She got pregnant with Iris and was sent away to carry out her pregnancy in secret, to prevent the man’s wife from finding out the truth. When the little girl was born, she was sent to Greece to live with her paternal grandparents.

What’s her mother’s location now? the man asks, still not looking away from the clipboard.

Iris’s gaze flickers between the two adults, unable to settle, while fidgeting with her dress, seeking solace in the familiar anxious tick.

Unknown, sir.

Father?

Deceased.

He nods and finally glances over his clipboard. His eyes bore into the little girl’s soul. Despite her fear, she doesn’t falter or break his gaze. She doesn’t know how or why she was brought here, but she won’t cower now. Hearing them talk about her mother made her flinch. Her grandparents were always honest about what happened to her mama and baba. Even though the girl has never spoken to them in her fourteen years of existence, there’s a little gap in her heart, one that can only be filled by a parent’s love. But she’s learned to seal that hole with memories that never were, the ones told to her by her yayá and papoús.

The man ponders for a few seconds, still holding Iris’s gaze, before inserting his pen through the metal clip. There’s something different about this one. Keep her apart from the others.

His assistant nods and ushers Iris through a door on the right side of the room. She hadn’t gotten the chance to look around when she first got out of the vehicle they rode to reach their destination, but now, she lets her eyes travel around the space. And if she’d noticed how creepy and eerie this place was when she arrived, she probably wouldn’t have been as composed.

They are underground. Iris can tell from the lack of windows and dampness in the air. When the van had pulled up to the property, it had gone downhill. Her eyes had been covered then, but now, as she is guided through dark and narrow hallways, she makes sure to memorize everything.

The woman in front of her walks at a fast and steady pace, but Iris’s legs are too short. A bead of sweat forms on her forehead as she jogs to keep up, scared to miss a turn. When they finally arrive in front of an elevator, it opens, and the elevator starts going up as soon as the doors shut.

Iris nervously glances around, thinking of ways to get out of this place, when she spots a camera in the top corner and immediately averts her gaze. Shit. Don’t draw attention to yourself, Ris. The lady doesn’t acknowledge her as she looks through her files and taps her pen on the binder.

The incessant clatter, although for only a brief amount of time, is enough to draw Iris’s hands to her ears. She wants to scream. She’s never felt this close to losing her mind. She’s been driven to the brink of her sanity on this journey, and it doesn’t seem to be ending soon. She misses her grandparents, her friends, and school. Iris never thought she’d miss the latter, but standing in this enclosed space with a stranger, in a strange place, is messing with her brain. If only she’d listened to her yayá that godforsaken morning.

Come straight home from school when you’re done with your tutoring session, Iris. It will be late, and your grandfather will not be able to pick you up. I know your need for adventure is strong but take the short way home. No detours.

Against her yayá’s words, Iris did not take the short way home. Instead, she’d wandered through the backwoods of the school and emerged on the other side of her neighborhood. The skies were clear, the slanting rays of the setting sun giving them a warm orange tinge. She could see the soft glow of the bright city lights on the horizon. It was her favorite pathway home.

As she’d made her way down the sidewalk, she’d felt a prickle at the back of her neck. She’d urged herself to keep walking, the speed of her steps increasing as she approached the intersection. Safety. There will be cars passing by. No danger.

Once she’d gotten to the corner of the street, a white van stopped next to her and, before she could even let out a scream, she was grabbed right off the footpath and thrown into the vehicle. A covering was shoved over her head and she couldn’t see a thing, but Iris could feel others around her. She could hear the terrified cries. She’d sat down and clung on to the collar of her white dress, her panic rising as the realization of what was happening seeped through her.

If only she’d listened to her grandmother.

Iris’s legs wobble as she follows the woman out of the elevator, lost in thought, and doesn’t notice on which floor they’ve stopped. But only a few steps later, she’s brought into a large classroom. What the heck? A school? It looks like a traditional classroom with a chalkboard, desks, and chairs.

The woman backs out the door and says, Stay here until you’re told otherwise. There’s a bathroom at the back. And don’t even think of attempting to get out of here. Your classmate here already broke two chairs trying to escape. She should know better, the woman admonishes, shaking her head. Without waiting for a response, she shuts the door behind her, and the locks click.

Iris immediately whips her head around to the classmate in question. She hadn’t even noticed the other girl when she’d walked in. To Iris’s tanned, brown skin and dark, curly hair, this girl is fair, even pale, with stark, blonde hair. She seems to be around the same age as Iris, maybe a little older. Her arms are crossed at her chest and her face is beet red, as if she’s been crying for hours. They’re quite a good distance apart, but Iris can still see the torment in her eyes.

I’m Iris, she says, breaking the silence.

Lydia, the girl responds. She uncrosses her arms and stands from her chair.

Iris nervously twists the hem of her dress. How long have you been here? I mean, not in this classroom. Here, in this place.

A year. Lydia shrugs. Why did they bring you into this room?

I don’t know. The man told that woman to keep me apart from the others, Iris explains.

Lydia walks around the desk and inches closer. When she reaches the front of the class, she sits on top of the teacher’s desk, now only a few feet away from her new classmate. Her legs dangle and she swings them back and forth. Iris stands still, not knowing what to say or do, but she’s finally calming down. She could be a friend, an ally.

You’re one of us, then, Lydia confirms.

Iris’s eyes narrow in confusion. She walks over to a desk and sits on the chair. One of what?

A nun, Lydia replies dismissively. This doesn’t help Iris’s incertitude whatsoever.

Where are we? Iris asks.

At the Sisterhood. Welcome to Hell, sister.

PART I

1

EVANDER

While I watch you sleep, I dream.

—Sneha Acharekar

There’s something so peaceful about watching someone sleep.

The vulnerability they show once they’re unconscious, entering a safe haven.

Standing above Angelica, I watch as her body relaxes into a deep lull.

Some might say it’s intrusive and creepy, but the closeness you feel to a person when they’re the most defenseless brings trust and tranquility. Everyone is holy and pure when they’re in a state of slumber.

The first six months we were apart, I left Angelica alone—for the most part. I only watched her as she headed home from the gym or after a late night out with her friends.

But I’ve found myself gravitating closer and closer. Being with her for those brief moments is not enough to satisfy my craving anymore.

Now, I visit Angelica at night and often catch her reliving whatever plagues her mind in her nightmares. But as soon as she subconsciously feels my presence near her, the tension she carries eases off.

Angelica’s breathing steadies. When I first walked into her bedroom, she seemed tormented, twitching as she dreamed.

Her body is spread out on the bed, one of her legs poking out of the blanket. Her wild hair fans over her pillow.

As I stand in the corner of her room, I yearn to touch her. I sit in the chair, careful not to make any noise, but Angelica still stirs. She’s never caught me in the act since I started coming into her apartment. Though, I know she’s aware of my presence in her subconscious.

On the occasions I’ve decided to lie next to her, just long enough to feel our breaths intertwine and our hearts beating as one, I know she realized it was me. I’ve never woken her up—but that changes tonight.

As I watch her sleep, looking like the most delectable angel, her body calls my name. I grunt internally as my eyes linger on her smooth, long legs, the slip-on dress she’s wearing barely covering them. My gaze travels up her body to where her chest rises and falls under the cover. I can picture her perky breasts and hard nipples poking through the fabric. Her soft lips are slightly agape, inviting me to nibble on them and stick my tongue into her mouth. My cock strains in my jeans.

Readjusting my posture on the seat, I push my palm against my crotch to relieve some of the pressure. But there’s only one way I’ll ever get relief tonight.

I’m done just creeping in the shadows of her bedroom.

I step toward the edge of the bed. Angelica is still in a deep slumber, so I take advantage of it and lift the blanket off her, parting her legs open. Fuck. Me. The little thong she’s wearing exposes her plump pussy. I can already fucking taste her.

My dick stiffens even more.

Angelica moves onto her back, still fast asleep. So trusting, so unsuspecting. It causes my heart to jolt.

With adrenaline coursing through me, I ease myself onto the bed.

The mattress dips under me, but she doesn’t move. Once I’m settled above her, I can smell her intoxicating scent, and it makes me want to devour her.

I gently lift Angelica’s dress above her hips, exposing her toned stomach, and a groan escapes me. Her face scrunches a bit, but she doesn’t wake.

I inch myself higher to reach her tits, then I slip one out of its confinement. Her nipple springs free, hard and pebbled. I wrap my mouth around it, sucking gently enough not to wake her. Angelica’s skin bursts into goosebumps, heat emanating from her body like a flame.

She lets out a low whine as I lap around her nipple. Her body starts to respond to me, so I continue to suck, lick, and nibble on her skin.

Angelica trembles and lets out the smallest of mewls that causes a storm to rage within me. I need to taste her now.

There’s already a wet spot on the front of her panties. My little angel is turned on, even in her sleep.

Putting all care of waking her aside, I push her thong to the side and dive between the apex of her thighs, catching her clit into my mouth.

Her body tenses for a moment as she takes in the feeling of my tongue on her center. I groan into her pussy as I consume her, sending myself into rapture. I will never get enough of her.

I continue to feast on her while her moans get louder and louder.

Soon, Angelica will wake up and find me in her room, between her legs, but I won’t stop until I make her come all over my face. I dare her to try and stop me.

As her body writhes under me, her climax rising to the surface, I keep the same pace as I suck on her swollen clit. She’s close and, if I’m being honest, I am too. I can’t help but rub my hardened cock on the mattress as I greedily eat Angelica’s pussy. The friction is bringing on an orgasm that I refuse to let myself have until she’s satisfied. The best part of pleasing my angel is the edging.

A few more licks and Angelica finally reaches the tipping point. Her entire body is vibrating like a ripple of water. She twitches and arches her back off the bed, slowly gaining more consciousness as her climax tears through her. Her whining resonates through the room.

That’s it, kitten, I encourage in between each ministration I give her. Come for me.

Angelica’s eyes flutter open, my name flying past her lips. Evan!

A loud scream comes out of her mouth as her climax peaks.

That’s it, baby. Cover my face with your sweet juices.

Oh my god, Angelica cries out, her voice strained.

She closes her eyes before snapping them open again, the abrupt awakening leaving her startled.

Recognition dawns on her when she sees me between her legs, and she freezes.

Evander, what are you doing? Angelica exclaims, barely able to get the words out of her mouth as I continue to suck on her clit.

I couldn’t wait to get a taste. I’m a patient man but not when it comes to this pussy.

I let her go, lifting onto my knees, and stare down at her flustered body, flushed skin, and dewy eyes. She’s never looked more beautiful.

She grasps the sheets, staring at me intensely. We’re breathing in unison, not uttering a single word.

I break the silence first. I’m not done with you yet, little angel. I look right into her eyes as I continue, I’m going to leave this room. And when I step out of the apartment, I want you to run. Run like your life depends on it, Angelica. Because when I find you, I’m going to fuck you until you pass out.

2

ANGELICA

The Only Thing we Have to Fear is Fear Itself

—Franklin D. Roosevelt

Evander’s words linger in my head as adrenaline propels me faster through the dimly lit hallway that leads to the underground garage of my building.

Run like your life depends on it, Angelica. Because when I find you, I’m going to fuck you until you pass out.

I haven't fully grasped the fact that Evan was in my room, and my thoughts are in disarray.

The not-so-distant echo of his footsteps amplifies my urgency, the fear of being caught pushing me to my limits.

My heart’s pounding seems even louder in the cavernous silence of the space.

It’s late on a dreary night, so there’s no one around. I’m in nothing but a skimpy, satin nightgown. The sound of my feet tapping on the concrete floor reverberates through the basement. I feel my blood pressure rising, enough to cause a thumping pulse in my chest.

I move between the parked cars, sliding along the doors and hoods to escape my fate. When I look back, Evan’s nowhere in sight. What the hell? I turn in a circle to locate him when I notice a figure at the other end of the garage. A cold, tight knot forms in my gut as I recognize his gaze. There’s no mistaking those hazel eyes.

He’s wearing a white ski mask with holes for his eyes and mouth. I might’ve been oblivious to who he was the first time I saw him veiled, but the features are far too recognizable now.

He glances around, looking for me, the sound of my footfalls no longer giving my location away, but he spots me after a few seconds. I quickly duck between the two vehicles. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Even though I might love the games we play, Evan scares me more now than he did before when he was a stranger. He’s relentless and will not take no for an answer, patiently waiting for me to succumb to him and forgive his sins. I won’t give in easily. I don’t want to live without peace forever, but I’ll decide whether to liberate him from his anguish or not. He relinquished control to me, and I plan to use it wisely.

My apartment building is big, but the underground part of it isn’t. I don’t have many places to hide, but I remember a small storage space tucked behind one of the posts, used to store miscellaneous items like bikes and tires. I quietly crawl toward it, attentive to any sounds, when the entrance gate to the garage rolls open. Shit.

Someone just got home. I sit on the ground with my back against a car while I wait for the person to park and go inside. No sign of Evan anywhere. I take this moment to regain my composure and steady my breaths.

I’m still reeling from the aftermath of finding Evan in my room.

Recently, he’s started sneaking into my apartment. He has never let himself be seen, and by the time I’d wake up, he’d already be gone, only leaving his scent behind.

Sometimes, he leaves little tokens for me to find.

Despite wanting to keep my distance, there’s a conflict within me, driven by the allure of the forbidden fruit. My impulses want the immediate gratification of being with Evan, regardless of the potential heartbreak I might endure.

My breathing steadies a bit and, after a few minutes, I hear the door to the building shut. I resume my path toward the storage room. It’s eerily quiet.

When I get to the door of the locker, I remember the little keypad at the side. There’s no way I’ll be able to input the code without the beeping sound reverberating around the space, but I have no choice. I sit up in a squatted position and hastily type in the code. Short, high-pitched tones ring out in the garage. That’s it, I’m done for.

I open the door and quickly slip through, holding the handle down as I shut it behind me to avoid the clicking noise. I sit on the floor, debating what to do next. I squeeze my eyes shut and grasp my knees to calm my rushing heart.

I’m immediately hit with thoughts of Evan storming into this storage space to claim me, his lips on my neck, tongue on my skin, hands in my hair as I wrap my legs around his waist and take every inch of him. My hands drift to where I picture his mouth trailing kisses down my throat, and my breaths get heavier, more desperate. Fuck him for having this effect on me.

I cross my arms and wait for any sign of life, but I don’t hear a peep. There’s no escaping him, but I can’t stay here forever.

Against my better judgment, I stand and open the door to peek outside. I look left and right. There’s no one in sight. Just as I extend one leg out, I feel a tight grasp on my calf. I let out a shriek and dart away, kicking my leg out of his hold. I knew he’d find me. I run with leaden legs, immobilized by terror. Evan is on my tail, too close.

He grabs onto my arm, and I attempt to swat it away, but he overpowers me, tackling me to the ground, breaking my fall with the side of his body. Within an instant, he crashes his lips on mine and positions me on top of him. As my dress lifts over my hips, he lets out a growl at the sight of my pink thong and threads his fingers under the straps, pulling hard. The fabric tears, and he tugs it off me in one movement, the hardness of his length instantly poking me through his pants.

Evan raises his hips and grinds his crotch over my clit, only one thin layer between us. I gasp, the breath stolen from my lungs, and brace myself with my hands on his chest. He’s still wearing his mask, but the intensity of his gaze boring into me raises goosebumps over my skin.

He loosens his hold on my hips, so I take the opportunity to sprint away again.

You can run, but you can’t hide, Angelica.

Screw him. I keep running, my hair whipping my face as I dodge the many obstacles in my way. I’m leaking down my thighs. I’m suddenly invigorated with a newfound energy, flowing like electricity through my body. This is a thrill I’ve only experienced with Evan, and it hits me harder every time.

I can’t hear his footsteps anymore, so I stop to catch my breath. Did I really outrun him? My ears are buzzing from sheer adrenaline.

Just then, Evan places his hand on my mouth and lifts me off the ground, having snuck up on me with the silence and stealth of a hungry cat. I thrash my legs and scream, but my pleas are muffled under his palm. He stomps through the garage and takes me to his car. He opens the back door and throws me in, before crawling on top of me, the weight on my chest making it hard to properly inhale.

What did I tell you about running away from me? Haven’t you learned? There’s no escaping the devil, my sweet angel, Evan says in my ear, just above a whisper, his voice crackling with an untamable flame.

Evan starts dry humping me ruthlessly, my back rubbing against the leather seats. My nipples are pebbled, and a cold shiver travels down my spine. But on the inside, I’m on fire, consumed with the same blaze that burns in his veins. When we are together like this, we become one. It’s all-consuming, too much to bear.

I can’t help but give in. He lifts my dress as I take off his shirt. I grab onto his shoulders and dig my nails into his skin, moaning as he grinds himself against me. The sound of our gasps fills the car.

Evan rubs circles over the swollen nub, barking commands into my ear, and I obey every single one.

Scratch my back harder, he orders.

I let my nails draw lines of crimson down his back. He growls loudly before retreating. There is a wet spot on his pants from my arousal. I feel my cheeks heat, warmth spreading down to my neck.

"Such a messy little poutána. Do I make your greedy cunt wet, angel?"

Evan pushes my legs against my chest and shoves two digits inside my opening. He moves his fingers in and out at a fast and steady pace, and each time they hit the extremity of my insides, I feel a tingly explosion throughout my body, moans escaping my lips.

Hands above your head, Angelica.

I shake my head.

Do it, he growls, but I shake my head again, determined to defy him.

Evan takes my arms and pins them up, before pulling out a scarf that he ties around my wrists and through the door panel. Then, the sound of his belt unbuckling and zipper coming undone resonates in the tight space.

He slaps his dick on my clit and rubs it over my pussy. My body jolts from the stinging sensation.

Startling me, he lowers his head and spits on my opening.

This pussy is mine, and I’m going to take it. Tell me you want it.

My irritation flares. No, stop, I grit out.

His body stills for a moment, then his hand reaches for his length as he lowers his face to kiss me. I try to move away, but he grabs onto my chin and keeps my face straight.

His lips press onto mine, and I reluctantly open my mouth. I sink my teeth into his bottom lip until I can taste the tanginess of his blood.

He pulls away and licks at the bead, smirking deviously. "Fear. As sweet as blood and as light as air."

My skin crawls, dread raising the hairs on the back of my neck, as if invisible fingers are running along my spine. Without warning, he pushes himself inside of me and I cry out. Fuck.

He penetrates me deep and hard, pushing me into the backseat of his car, and I scream with every thrust. It’s wild, an out-of-body experience. I tug on my restraint for some relief, but my arms barely move.

Tell. Thrust. Me. Thrust. You. Thrust. Want. Thrust. It, he repeats, but I refuse again. Then, I feel a sting on my cheek. I gasp. Did he just slap me?

Warmth radiates from the spot where the smack landed, a fiery reminder that in this moment, Evander owns me.

Why deny what your body begs for, my angel? Be a good girl and tell me how needy you are for my cock.

Fuck you, Evander. I seethe, my emotions clashing within me—a mix of anger, humiliation, and confusion.

He slaps me again, this time on the left cheek. That’s not my name to you, he says through clenched teeth. He hates when I call him by his full name, but I don’t care. He doesn’t deserve anything else.

Nonetheless, wetness pools between my legs.

I hate you, I spit, knowing it will spark fury in him.

A low, guttural sound escapes his mouth. Liar! he hisses. He brings his palm to my cheek again, right as he pushes himself inside of me, so deep and hard that I scream, the oxygen sucked out of my lungs like a vacuum.

You don’t hate me, Angelica. You love it when I use you like my personal sex doll, because I know how to make it feel good.

Ahhhh, I moan with every thrust.

The space in the back seat of the car doesn’t allow for much movement, but Evan succeeds in hitting all the right spots, and I pulsate around his length.

He cups my throat. Now, hold your breath.

I do as he says, too blinded by the pleasure. With his other hand, he sinks his fingers through my hair and pulls so hard my neck flies back, my airway now constricted.

Don’t breathe until I tell you to.

I’m already dizzy, like I might pass out, but he feels so good.

Come for me, he orders.

At his command, I let the wave of pleasure consume me. My lower stomach tenses, arousal pooling inside of me like molten lava on the verge of erupting. Evander pulls out just in time for me to gush all over him. I jerk as my orgasm hits me, and he shoves the head of his dick back inside to continue his movements.

Evan lets go of my hair, and I go limp under him. I start seeing black spots.

That’s it, angel. Come to the dark side, Evan whispers.

I succumb to the darkness, losing consciousness and control of my body as I climax.

3

EVANDER

My angel,

You’ve got me,

Flesh and bone.

You’ve shown me the light,

Taken me to the other side.

Now that I know what that’s like,

I’m never letting you out of my sight.

—Evander Vasilakis

I take off my ski mask, quickly shaking out my hair, and stuff it in the pocket of my black bomber jacket. I pull out my phone and open the security camera app. Angelica is back in her bed, fast asleep. I can see the soft movements of her body going up and down as she rests, surely worn out from our little encounter. I smirk and settle deeper into my Jaguar. I have nowhere to be, nowhere to go.

Every time I get a taste of divinity, it takes everything in me to leave. I promised I’d give her time, but I can’t stay away. An obsession doesn’t just disappear.

Angelica brought me back to life when I thought I was dead inside. I’d raise Hell if it meant I’d get to burn the world by her side.

What’s the best thing about being the devil? Having the ability to bring out evil to play.

I’m convinced Angelica was created to torture me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me the fuck on.

I switch off the feed and set my phone in the cup holder. It’s time to go.

As I turn to check if the coast is clear behind me, I catch a glimpse of something pink on the floor in the back seat. Reaching back, I pick up Angelica’s torn thong. It must’ve fallen out of my pocket when I was balls deep inside her. I bunch it up in my hand and bring it to my nose, taking a deep inhale.

Like I said, divinity. A sign from God. Made for