Devon Pravesh Novels & Stories

He's wearing a black sweater and ripped pants paired with black combat shoes. To be honest, I was a little ecstatic when I first saw him in person. Who wouldn't? Jesus, that's fucking Seth Devon! He's like so hot and almost every female idol loves him. On stage, he's oozing with charisma and he's one of those idols that many admire and look up to. And surprisingly, we share the same last name too!

Devon answered. Devon looked more Mediterranean in appearance. At close to six feet tall, he was broad shouldered, obviously strong, and just as obviously intelligent. You would estimate his age at about forty, although he had no wrinkles or gray hairs yet, he had an air of competent maturity about him. His every motion seemed entirely too practiced, yet somehow perfect for him. "Devon, I'm not sure I understand, the facility you propose could be created, small at first, create the reputation of excellence in submissive training, and then train additional people given to the facility by clients for high fees?" Doctor Jenkins asked.

Deal", said Mete in a stronger pleasant voice. "But why?", asked Noah with doubt by lifting his eyebrows. "My child, Nevaeh is your dad's trial robot. l need to make another powerful one. So l need to do some experiments with her and from that result l wanted to make an advanced one. l think my little genius get my idea", said Mete lovingly by caressing on Noah's hair. Noah nodded his head like as he understood all the things what was his father just told.

She sat at her desk, filing her nails. "You guessed right," I replied, resting my elbows on the table. "What's the urgency?" Alessa stopped filing her nails and looked at me attentively. "I found out their names," she said. I raised my eyebrows, wondering how she figured it out so quickly. She continued when she saw my confusion. "The new boys, the blond one is called Basael, the redhead is Kanael, and the dark-haired one is Afael. Isn't it weird? Everything ends with 'ael.'"

AXEL’S POV: "My name is Devon Lugi," he declared with an edge of vulnerability I hadn’t expected. He fixed his gaze on me as if daring me to question him further. "I served in the Army—part of Blackhawk Shadow, a covert unit trained in assassination and high-risk combat." His tone dropped, reverent and raw. "Before all that, I was just a kid from the slums. My mother was dying of a disease we couldn’t afford to treat. I remember that charity event you held in our broken-down neighborhood—you, dressed so casually, laughing with the kids and comforting the old. When you were about to leave, I ran to you, desperate. Security tried to stop me, but you—God, you stopped them. You scooped me up in

“it will help ease your hangover.’’ Heat creeped to my cheeks. I was praying in the heavens that I didn’t do something crazy last night. Although I wasn’t that drunk because I had water in between shots, but still, alcohol and I never go well together. “I’m sorry about last night.’’ Devin shrugs his shoulders “no worries. Besides, you complimented me last night.’’ My eyes widen as I take a bit of my toast. “What?’’ I whispered. ‘’Yeah, you said I was beautiful, and I was smokin’ hot.” He was shaking his head while he lightly chuckled. Even if he was making fun of me, the way Devin was laughing made me smile and giggle with him. I knew my cheeks and probably my ears too were fiery red, but se

A figure stepped out of the vapor, walking slowly, deliberately onto the grated steel. It was Devon. He was alive, dressed in a sharp, pristine suit, totally unmarked by the brutal execution Noah had witnessed. But his eyes were utterly blank, devoid of his usual arrogant spark. In his right hand, he held a sleek, silver briefcase. In his left hand, he held a phone, pressed to his ear. “Hello, Ethan,” Devon said, his voice terrifyingly calm, completely stripped of his usual cynicism. Ethan stared at his architect, the betrayal hitting him harder than the gunshot. “Devon. What have you done?”

I get in my room and push open the door of the washroom. I hear footsteps. I step under the shower. In a few seconds, the white marble floor is covered with red bloodied water. " Brother! Are we really going to Punjab? " Devon asks. He wasn't even bothered to knock. I unbutton my pants and step out of it as it falls on the floor, " We're, " I run my hands in my wet hair and grab the shampoo from the counter. I gesture to him to go out with my index finger, " Come on! Brother. You're not naked." He rolls his eyes and leans back on the door.

Not if he works with a group of terrorist. “Can you prove it?” “That's the thing, when it comes to them, you can't prove anything. I have been working for them for fourteen years, I don't even know who they are.” Sebastian realizes these people are more than he had given them credits for. They are well organized terrorist with arms farther than he had thought possible. Twelve years ago, he was a rookie detective eager to solve the county's most popular case. A detective who ran in circles stumbling against walls and walls.

“But he has your goodness, too. He has all the purity you never let yourself keep.” I kissed her forehead, a lingering, solemn pledge. The battle was over. The healing had begun, ushered in by the uncorrupted love of our son. I was the Devil Don, the man who dragged her into this dark world, but here, in this quiet, softly lit room, I was just a man, holding his family, watching the first, beautiful dawn break after the longest night. This fragile moment of connection, of shared joy in the midst of sorrow, was worth more than every asset Damon Salvatore ever owned.