The Devil

*Warning and Introduction*

Dear readers,

You've been warned: this story contains mature themes, strong language, graphic violence, and explicit content. As you proceed, these elements may intensify. If you don't like a huge age gap between characters, then this isn't for you.

Despite this caution, your curiosity has led you to continue. I appreciate your eagerness to uncover the unfolding narrative.

*Story Overview*

This tale revolves around two primary protagonists: Raven/Lilith and Giovanni. Occasionally, other characters may offer their perspectives to advance the plot.

*Reader Engagement*

Your feedback is invaluable. Please share your thoughts through comments and reviews. As a non-native English speaker, I welcome constructive criticism and grammatical corrections.

*Support*

If you enjoy this story, consider gifting gems to show your appreciation.

*This book will be entering the Mafia Fiction contest*

PS: A few slang will be toss here and there. My female lead is a 19 years old, so whenever she's interacting with her friend, they might do so using slang. I hope you all don't mind that, haha.

⫷◍◍◍◍◍◍◍◍◍⫸

LILITH POV

This was my world, but tonight felt different.

The music's beat throbbed through my chest, grounding me as I stepped onto the stage.

Here, I wasn't Lilith Russo, the awkward nineteen-year-old college student who trips on her own two feet. Lilith Russo, who couldn't look into anyone's eyes or make a coherent sentence without fumbling or blasting out classical literature to hide her nervousness.

I was known as The Raven.

A beautiful seductress, a shadow they couldn't touch but watch, a desire they couldn't hold but feel.

Letting out a deep breath, my hands gripped the pole. I started slow, letting the rhythm seep into my bones, each sway of my hips a controlled invitation.

I let go of the pole and let my fingers glide along my thighs, a practiced movement meant to tease.

Of course, I knew how to play this game and dangle just enough mystery to keep them wanting without giving too much.

"How much for that whore?" I heard whispers.

It wasn't the first time and I doubted it would be the last time.

I knew every response to each word said the moment I took the stage. As for the first question, my boss would snarl, "She's not for sale."

"Can I touch her to know if she's real? She feels unoriginal."

"I'll pay you triple if I can feel that sweet ass of hers."

"Your hands to yourself or I cut it off." That would be the response from Marco, my boss.

There were many more silly questions, and I was glad I wasn't the one doing the answering. Marco was often within earshot and ready to give a snarky response to anyone who needed it.

I was his valued dancer; hence, for that reason, he placed me on center stage to entertain only the ones above the higher working-class men.

Even though, he never clarified that, I didn't ask any questions as I knew what he meant.

Those were called the VIPs of La Notte. They were the most important people for Marco and his club, and I couldn't mess up as much as I desired.

I sucked in a deep breath as I felt eyes on me.

"Don't look, Raven," I whispered to myself. It was rule number one for me. 'Don't make eye contact with anyone in the VIP section no matter what.

The world could be ending, La Notte could be getting destroyed, but I'd be on the damned stage swaying my hips to the music playing.

I kept my gaze fixed somewhere in the haze of lights and smoke, refusing to meet the eyes in the darkened VIP section. They were trouble.

The VIP section was home to the worst of them— the powerful and untouchable. I didn't need to know their names or their intentions; they were a different breed.

My job was to entertain and survive, not to invite complications.

I bite my lower lip, my body moving on autopilot, twisting and arching.

Puffing out a breath slowly, I sucked in another breath. The air felt thicker and charged, and I could feel their stares crawling over me.

However, one gaze seared into my skin, hotter and heavier than the others.

Fuck. They were urging me to look, trying to turn my head sideways and coaxing me to squint and find the very eyes that were looking at me.

"Don't you dare look," I said through gritted teeth.

But I couldn't help it. My fucking resolve cracked, and for a heartbeat, my eyes flicked up and I met his eyes— a fucking mistake.

The rules I had kept for three damned years, a man had made me break it in just a day and he barely did anything to make me do so.

The man I was currently staring at was sitting in the shadow, a face I knew only by reputation: Giovanni Ricci.

The man everyone in La Notte feared and wouldn't dare talk awful about him even in his absence.

I had always wondered why he was feared that much. He was an ordinary human, like the rest of us, but now, I could almost see it.

His stare was dark, intense, as if he could strip away the pretence, and dig into who I really was.

The second Rule I had always upheld by heart was: Never let anyone believe you can be owned.

I knew that even if I could break the first rule, there was no way I could break the second because no one indeed owned me.

I worked for Marco, but that didn't make him own me. I did sign a contract, and that was to keep shut about everything that happened in the La Notte. Every one of us—the dancers— did. Someone could be killed in the most horrible way ever, assaulted, and well kidnapped; we have to keep our damned mouths shut and never speak of it as it wasn't in our right to do so.

Marco did have the final say about what I did most of the time, but he still allowed me freedom.

And yet, Giovanni's eyes trapped me, like he dared me to break my rules just to let him see a little more.

He tilted his head, a silent command that left my breath hitched.

Rolling my shoulders, I eventually broke the spell, and spun, my back to him trying to steady my racing pulse.

The song crescendos, and I slide to the floor, twisting in a way that should feel graceful but vulnerable under his watchful gaze.

Why the hell was he still staring at me? Discretely, I glanced at myself to ensure my costume wasn't out of place. Perhaps he recognized me from somewhere, that could be the only reason he would be staring.

"You're too perfect to be in here, Raven. Now I see why Marco is so much into you being on the center stage," Flora, one of the dancers, said.

"Thank you," I flashed her a small smile. Even though I didn't care about her compliment, I wasn't one to waste it.

We had never had a real conversation until now because it was either she was glaring at me, or saying one or two things about me to the other dancers so I could be hated.

"Marco is watching; we need to return to the waiting room for his next instruction. There are some important guests here," Flora said before trotting away.

"She acts like she's the boss. She's just a newbie here and should respect everyone because we were here before her!" Candy, a petite brunette, retorted.

"You know how Flora can be, I wouldn't cross her path if I were you," I murmured.

Candy shrugged, "I am not afraid of her." then she leaned into me despite how tiny she was. "I heard she's sleeping with the boss, so he lets her do as she desires. Such a stanky whore."

I heard that too. I knew it wasn't just mere gossip, it was indeed happening, but I didn't care about that. I was okay with that as long as I could get what I wanted to fend for myself.

"Come on, Marco is watching," Candy said.

I forced myself to back up, plastering on a Raven's sultry smirk. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Giovanni raise a hand, the silent, unmistakable gesture calling me over.

I froze, my heart beating rapidly.

Rule number 3: Never answer a call unless you know the price.

I had seen other girls lured by that beckoning hand, and they never left the same.

I desired to turn away and make a dash towards the exit, never looking back because there was no way in hell I was going into that place to meet with the devil himself.

Yet, my stupid legs couldn't cooperate with what my brain wanted. I took the first step forward, then the second, ignoring the alarms sounding in my head.