Devon Pravesh Novels & Stories

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.

I grabbed my phone off the side and started scrolling through my notifications, surprised when I saw a message on my POF from someone named; Daddy4You Well, if that username was anything to go by, it was a promising start. Opening the message up, I read it and instantly got confused, aroused and annoyed... So, you didn't invite me up to your bedroom to f*ck you senseless last night, bit rude ;p ARE YOU FOR F*CKING REAL!!!!???!!! Roman had used POF to message me!? I angrily sent him a message back. I was fuming that he had violated my privacy like that!

When the final progress bar reached one hundred percent, I finally allowed myself to breathe again. Daniel smiled faintly. "Now?" I nodded. "Now." I clicked the video. The screen stayed black for a few seconds before the picture slowly appeared. Devon was sitting alone at the small dining table inside his apartment. He looked nothing like the confident executive I remembered. His shirt was wrinkled, dark circles hung beneath his eyes, and he hadn't shaved in days. Every few seconds he glanced toward the apartment door as if expecting someone to force it open. He rubbed both hands together before finally looking into the camera.

He was still partially dressed from the wedding ceremony, though he'd removed his formal jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. His face was unnaturally beautiful in the flickering candlelight, with sharp, aristocratic features that looked like they'd been carved by a master sculptor. When she'd first heard rumors about the demon king, she had expected someone disgusting and frightening to look at. But when she'd seen him in the throne room, and again during the wedding ceremony, she'd realized he was the pure definition of a devil with beauty - gorgeous enough to make angels weep, but with a soul blacker than the deepest pit of hell.

I say softly, tears already stinging behind my ears but I push it back. “Very well then. In this table, it is blood for blood, whether on purpose or not, so my Verdict” he takes a deep breath in, “Two weeks probation off from the table, meaning no resources whatsoever from here and you are off the protection of this table and as for your blood repayment,” he brings out a small box, “stand” Shakily I stand, Justin holds my arm, stopping me in my tracks, “what the…” “I would not allow you to do something as stupid as this” he whispers.

I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “Emma! Is that you?” a deep voice said from behind me in excitement. “Waw! I never thought I’d see you again”. My heart was pounding as I whipped around. Standing there was a man I didn’t recognize, but his scent told me he was from the Devonshire pack. His dark eyes glinted with curiosity, and a smirk played on his lips. “See me again, How? And Who are you?” I curiously asked, demanding an answer, keeping my voice steady despite the fear creeping into my chest.

“Aren’t you a bit too late to be starting as an intern?” Hema blinked, but her composure didn’t waver. “I apologize, sir. There was heavy traffic on my way here.” “Traffic,” Chris repeated, his tone laced with mild mockery. His lips curved into a faint smirk. “That’s the excuse you’re going with?” “Yes, sir,” Hema replied plainly. “And it won’t happen again.” Chris leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I expect it won’t. I don’t tolerate tardiness, Miss Kapoor. But since you’re here…” His voice turned sharper. “You mentioned during your interview that you could handle pressure. Let’s see if that’s true.”

As I rounded a corner near the courtyard, the sound of loud, frustrated voices made me pause. Devon was standing there, surrounded by his usual group of sycophants and friends. He was nursing his bruised arm, his face twisted in a dark, embarrassed scowl. “I’m telling you, it was a total fluke.” Devon barked, slamming his good fist against the stone wall. “The bitch got lucky. That's all it was.” “I don't know, man,” one of his friends muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “She had you pinned pretty good. And that weird light from her hands...”

Her gaze flicked between me and the man, reading the tension, piecing it together faster than most would. “Gideon—” “Sit.” This time, she did. Reluctantly. Carefully. Like she was stepping into something she already didn’t trust. Good. She shouldn’t. I took the seat across from the man. “Name,” I said. “Rafael,” he answered quickly. “Rafael D’Souza.” His voice shook. It irritated me. “Amount owed,” I continued. He hesitated. Ashton would’ve smiled at that. I didn’t.

"Dint apologize shit happens If things still doesn't work out between us by a week's time I'll convince my brother to let you go so have fun while you are here, I'll take you out tonight that sinif you are up for it" "I am Devon I'll do anything to vrawl out from myles grasps" "Funny he doesn't like being called over doer he dislikes lots of things like you refusing help with the maids he had once alit a girls throat for dojg something similar" "He what? Fuck I'm ruined" "No you are not it would all be fine and better just hang in for a week's and meat I remind you act humbly around him, he has no friend's so he's always on the edge"