Devon Pravesh Novels & Stories

“You will have nothing. Do you understand?” Devon, however, simply shook his head, a faint, sad smile on his lips. He looked at Clara, then back at Nana, his eyes filled with a love so profound it seemed to defy everything. “Then I will have nothing of this family,” he said, his voice clear and resolute. “I am Devon Cage and I can never not have anything, I have everything I want and need, my kids, the woman I love and all my assets and wealth that is not associated with the Cage empire”.

“Our Beta finally returned.” Voices echoes agreement. “To Devon!” Devon stands briefly, looking almost humbled as he bows with a grin on his face. “I owe my return to the strength of this pack,” he says. “Captivity teaches you one thing, you never realize what home is until it’s taken.” Murmurs of approval follows and then claps from the crowd. But I didn’t clap and I didn’t drink at first. Conversation resumes around us, patrol reports, minor tunnel repairs, hunting yield. But I keep watching him.

Even though Devon was considered a new guy in the social media industry, he was rather good at it, which made Juneau feel a great crisis. Devon ignored him and bowed at Kayson and Sadie. “Mr. Yarde, Ms. Wolfenden, I was sent here to assist you by Mr. Shore. You can call me Devon Harrington.” Sadie smiled at him, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington.” She stretched her arm forward, and both of them shared a handshake. Devon couldn’t help himself and took another glance at Kayson. After all, Royce had reminded him many times, telling him that he had to keep Kayson happy at all costs.

Devon called every day. He’d returned to his sleek, corner office at the oil and gas conglomerate where he worked as the chief operating officer. A man of boardrooms and billion-dollar deals. But at night, his voice softened. He asked how her day went. He told her what he’d eaten. He sent pictures of sunsets from his office window and selfies of him trying (and failing) to meditate like she taught him. They were still figuring it out, she and Devon. But they were trying.

She was really a good con artist. She told him before that her last name was Devon, Bae Devon and she was a club goer went club dancer to loosen her financial tightness. He didn't even know that everything about Bae Devon is fake, like she wasn't really a regular performer in the club, and she was never a daughter of a police officer in Boulder.

She chuckled and said, "So your team had a 'DI' and a 'DO'. I bet the cheerleaders loved that." "Did they ever," Devon laughed. "He was a running back and I was the quarterback, so one or both of us was involved in almost every offensive play. The 'DI/dO' combo as we were called made a good match. We help our high school win the state championship four years in a row. Dev went on to play for Army. He was killed in Afghanistan six months after graduating from West Point."

“Mr. Devon Brookes is honored to have you.” Mr. Devon Brookes...the name sound so familiar it punches deep in my gut, some sort of recognition flashes in my memory, a name. Devon, I say the name quietly, afraid that the memory will strike me yet again. The man in the cruise ship, he told me his name was Devon, I could never forget, that couldn’t be right, Mr. Devon Brookes is a billionaire CEO, one of the youngest CEOs in their thirties. My knees start to buckle as I face Daphne.

I said, smiling at him. If there was one comfort in all of this, it was that Ezra was safe away from the evils of Blacktree. They would never get their claws in him again. He would be safe here. “Hey, while you were with Ezekiel, did you ever come across someone named Devon? He’s about 6’4, pale skin, shaggy brown hair, and has a jagged scar on his right cheek?” Ezra squinted in concentration as he thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

Dylan Travis was a kind and gentle man. Angel's first impression of him was very positive. She hardly found any flaws in Dylan. He was handsome with a very fit, muscular body. He had an amazing broad chest and comfortable arms to lean on. Dylan had a dazzling smile that would make all the women scream when they saw him. But most importantly for Angel, he had a perfect personality. Dylan was gentle and knew how to treat women well.

Roman Thorne is the invincible team leader of college hockey. He is large, aggressive and a nightmare to the media. The press, however, does not know what makes the Briarwood Ice Devils so feared. They are not just players. They are ruthless, blood-swilling offspring of the most formidable crime business in the city. Trying to keep a small scandal which is about to blow up their small business, the Thorne family appeals to the service of Sloane Mercer. She is 24 years old and a brilliant ruthless PR fixer. Her task is easy: to improve the image of the team, to work with press, and not to put Roman in the prison. But Sloane has not come to save them. She is here to ruin them. Sloa