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The Devil's Fire (Final Edition)

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He was dark. She was bright. Althaia's heart pounded in her chest as she stepped out to the backyard for her cousin's engagement party. Then she saw him, his piercing golden-brown eyes fixed on her. The Devil. Damiano Bellavia. The ruthless and powerful Mafia Boss her father tried to keep her away from. Despite the danger and the warnings ringing in her ears, Althaia felt drawn to him, curious about the dark world he came from. And he was just as fascinated with her, drawn to the innocence in her big green eyes. Despite their differences, the fiery passion between them burns hotter with each passing day. But so did the threats and violence of the Mafia world. And soon, Althaia finds herself in the middle of a war she never wanted to be a part of, and Damiano fights to protect his fire that corrupted his heart. Gunfire and murder, family and profit. Will their love be strong enough to survive it all? (This book is going to be the final edited book where a lot of editing has been taken place.)



Blood splattered on my face faster than I could even process what was happening. The sound of gurgling had me slowly widening my eyes when I saw who was hit. I dropped to my knees, pressing my hand onto her neck where blood kept sputtering out.

“You’ll be okay… you’ll be okay.” The words came out of my mouth hastily, but she was choking on her own blood, watching me with fear in her eyes as tears filled them. I gritted my teeth, trying to stop the bleeding, but deep down inside, I knew I couldn’t.

“Find them! Find who did this!” I shouted to my men, my chest heaving uncontrollably in fury.

“Don’t close your eyes.” I pleaded. Her eyes drooped, but they never fully closed. She placed her hand on my cheek, giving me a silent plea before I watched her eyes become lifeless and her hand dropped to her side. 

I cradled her body into my arms.

“Open your eyes. Open your eyes!” I shouted, but she remained unresponsive. 

“Why, Damiano?” 

I stilled and stared into her eyes, which were open but glazed over with no spark of life.

My eyes narrowed in confusion. Something was not right. Her eyes were cold and lifeless, yet her mouth was moving, screaming at me.

“Why did you let me die, Damiano? Why? Why? Why?!”

I snapped my eyes open. 

I let out a breath as I stared at the ceiling before sitting on the edge of the bed, my head dipping between my shoulders as I rested my elbows on my thighs.

Once again, she was tormenting me in my dreams, giving me another sleepless night. I’ve been having this dream for four years, and the anger from it is still deeply engraved within me. If I had put her first instead of being absorbed in building my empire, maybe she would still be alive instead of haunting me.

Instead of trying to sleep, knowing I wouldn’t be able to, I took a shower and got dressed to do what I do best; handle my businesses and make sure they all went smoothly. It was the only distraction I could give myself before she tormented me again for failing to protect her.

 ֎ ֎ ֎

I was in one meeting after another, killing one fuckhead after another. The slightest things set me off; looking at me the wrong way, breathing too loud, wearing too much cologne, anything to let my trigger finger work overtime.

It was probably because of the lack of sleep.

My brother, Lorenzo, and my right-hand man, Antonio, loved to remind me how I was a pain in the *ss when I was sleep deprived. They were probably the only ones who could get away with saying that and not end up with a bullet between their eyes.

I went back to the manor to take another shower to wash off the blood. Some piece of sh*t thought he could steal from me as if I wouldn’t notice. I liked to deal with them directly.  I loved to make them into my personal punching bag, except that my gloves were made of knives. It was messy but satisfying.

Freshly showered and dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, I went to the Volante mansion to attend my brother’s engagement party. Arriving, I took a quick glance around the decorated backyard as I sipped my whiskey. I had my men stay vigilant in case Gaetano Volante tried something funny.

I pulled out a cigarette and took in a deep drag as Lorenzo and his fiancée, Cara, made an appearance and mingled with the other guests.

“That shitface, Michael, isn’t here. Find out where he is.” I ordered Luca.

“He’s coming right there.” Giovanni informed me before Luca could get to it.

I inhaled deeply from my cigarette and blew out the smoke as my eyes narrowed on the woman Michael was with. I observed her closely as they exchanged some words before Michael walked away.

“… She’s hot.” One of the men nearby let out a low whistle at the sight of her.

“… Gorgeous.” Another one commented. I couldn’t blame them; she was a f*ck*ng beauty.

My gaze slid down, drinking in every inch of her body. She had long, brown curly hair flowing down to her waist. The dress she was wearing hugged her body deliciously, and the generous amount of her cleavage on display left little to the imagination. 

My gaze went up to her face and our eyes clashed. I almost let out a smirk when I caught her checking me out since she wasn’t being discreet about it either.

F*ck*ng hell, she had the most striking green eyes I had ever seen, and I found myself becoming lured into them. I tilted my head slightly to the side as I continued to look at her. She looked oddly familiar.

Then I finally realized who she was.

(A/N; Follow me on Facebook, Author Mariam^_^)

Chapter 1


I looked in the mirror and nodded in approval at my appearance. I was wearing a long black silk dress with a backless design, thin straps, and a deep V-plunge neckline that revealed quite a bit of my cleavage.

The dress was fitted at the top and gradually loosened at the hips, with a long slit on the right side, which stopped at mid-thigh. To complete the look, I wore open-toe black stilettos with gold ankle straps.

I did a simple brown smokey eye which complimented my green eyes and had them look a bit cat-like. I let my long, curly, and thick brown hair fall as it was but accessorized it with a sparkly hair clip to lift some of the hair away from my face on the right side.

“Get it together. What’s the worst that can happen?” I continued to fiddle with my hands before forcing them to remain still as I took a deep breath, building up the courage to leave my hotel room.

The worst that could happen was my father being angry at me


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