Novels by Princess

"What is it?" His voice had gone cold, dangerous."Nothing. Just... spam."Devon held out his hand. "Give me the phone, Clara.""Devon, it's fine—""Give. Me. The phone."There was no arguing with that tone. Clara handed it over, watching as Devon's expression darkened with each word he read."Who sent this?""I don't know."Devon was already on his feet, pacing like a caged animal. "This is the first one?"Clara's silence was answer enough."Jesus Christ, Clara! How many have you gotten?""Just... a few.""A few?" Devon's voice was sharp enough to shatter glass. "And you didn't think to tell me?""I didn't want to worry you—""Worry me?" He spun around to face her. "Someone is threatening you and my unborn child, and you didn't want to worry me?"Clara flinched at his tone. She'd forgotten how scary Devon could be when he was angry. His whole presence seemed to fill the room, dark and intimidating. This was the man who'd built an empire making grown men sweat in boardrooms."I can h

Yvonne sat in her car outside the dingy café, her perfectly manicured fingers drumming against the steering wheel. She'd been waiting for twenty minutes, and patience wasn't exactly her strong suit. The neighborhood wasn't one she'd normally be caught dead in, but desperate times called for desperate measures.Her phone buzzed. Finally."Inside. Corner booth," the text read.She grabbed her designer purse and stepped out, her heels clicking against the cracked pavement. The café smelled like stale coffee and broken dreams, but Yvonne pushed through the door anyway. In the far corner, a man in his fifties sat hunched over a cup of black coffee. Marcus Webb – former police detective turned private investigator. And more importantly, someone who owed her a favor."Marcus," she said, sliding into the booth across from him."Yvonne." His voice was rough, like he'd been smoking for thirty years. Which he probably had. "Been a while.""Not long enough," she muttered, then leaned forward. "I

Later that afternoon, Clara was in her room, trying to make sense of the new "upgraded" wardrobe Devon had provided. There were designer dresses, expensive casual wear, shoes she wouldn't dare walk in, and handbags that probably cost more than her car. She held up a silk blouse, her brow furrowed. "Seriously? What am I supposed to do with all this?"Sarah, who had come to keep her company since Devon wasn’t around, laughed. "Wear it, silly! You're living in a mansion, dating a billionaire – well, sort of. You gotta look the part!""I'm not dating him," Clara corrected, putting the blouse back. "I'm pregnant with his baby and temporarily living in his house.""Details, details," Sarah waved a hand dismissively. "Look, Clara, this is your chance. Make him see you. Not just as the baby mama, but as a woman he can't live without. Think of all the power you could have."Clara sighed. "I don't want power, Sarah. I just want to be myself.""Be

The house was quiet, just the way Devon liked it. He stood in the hallway, watching Elliot carry in Clara’s bags one after the other. He barely said a word, just gave a short nod.“Take them upstairs. Get one of the guest rooms ready,” Devon said, his voice calm but firm.Elliot nodded and walked off without a word.Devon turned and headed into his study. He went to the couch and then suddenly, a thought hit him, He remembered when he saw Clara at the hospital gently touching the flowers Sarah brought. She sniffed them, smiling softly like they meant something. Then he remembered the flower pots Elliot had picked up for her. Then it dawned on him that she is a flower lover, after all she is a florist. He wanted her to feel at home and comfortable.Without thinking, he grabbed his phone off the table and dialed a number.“I want to order some exotic flowers,” he said when the person answered. “Deliver them first thing tomorrow morning.”He ended the call, dropped the phone, and went ba

Sarah stepped out of the hospital room, her phone already pressed to her ear as she spoke in hushed tones. Clara watched her friend leave as she smiled at her, then she tried to adjust herself in the narrow hospital bed. The thin blanket had slipped down during her restless sleep, and she struggled to pull it back up with one arm while the other was still sore from the IV."Let me help you."The deep voice made her freeze. She looked up to find Devon standing beside her bed, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. Without waiting for her response, he reached for the blanket."I can do it myself," Clara whispered, but her voice came out weaker than she intended.Devon ignored her protest and gently tucked the blanket around her shoulders. As he leaned over her, Clara caught the scent of his cologne - something expensive and masculine that made her heart do strange things. They were so close she could feel his breath on her face, warm and steady. She could feel his breath on her lips,

As the car sped through traffic, Devon held Clara close, one hand pressed gently to her stomach. His heart was racing in a way it never had during the most high-stakes business deals.He pulled out his phone and dialed his personal doctor."It's Cage," he said when the doctor answered. "I'm bringing in a pregnant woman who's been assaulted. Have a team ready at the emergency entrance. And if anything happens to her or the baby, your career is over. Understand?"His phone rang again almost immediately after he hung up. It was Nana."Devon? Did you talk to her yet?" Nana asked."Someone attacked her," Devon said, his voice tight with an emotion he couldn't name. "I'm taking her to the hospital now.""Oh my God," Nana gasped. "Is she alright? The baby?""I don't know," Devon admitted, looking down at Clara's pale face. "She's unconscious.""I'm coming to the hospital," Nana declared. "And I'm bringing your father."Before Devon could protest, she had hung up.The car pulled up to the hos