Pillow Proncess Novels & Stories

For three years, I used my family's mob ties and my own money to pave the way for Declan's crew. He was the boy I survived the streets with as a kid. But at this month's sit-down, his newly hired secretary, Roxy, tossed my casino ledgers and club records onto the table in front of all the guys. She accused me of skimming profits and slacking off. "These underground banks, these smuggling docks," she read the numbers out loud, her voice full of fake outrage. "Every time she bribes someone, she skims thousands of dollars! She's lining her own pockets." "I say the Boss strips her of her club manager title right now to save our cash flow." I glanced at Declan, the boss of the crew. He knew

Coming to terms with the fact that this is me has been harder than I anticipated. "Apologies Princess, the needle is awfully sharp," the seamstress murmurs, securing the fabric in place with her safety pin. I stare at the dress she is working on. The fabric, on the outside, is light and flowy, but the structure of the dress is suffocating as it pulls at my rubs and presses into my lungs. "Stop flinching, dear, and the seamstress won't poke you," Crimson exclaims, brushing my hair back over my shoulder so she can admire the sweeping neckline.

I rested my head lightly against his shoulder as he carried me toward the penthouse, cradling me as though I weighed nothing. Once inside my room, he gently laid me down on the bed, his movements careful. "We need to treat these fast," he said, his tone almost apologetic, as if asking for my permission. I nodded faintly. But my breath caught in my throat as I heard the sharp rip of fabric. "William!" I gasped, horrified as I watched the hem of my dress tear under his hands. Three thousand dollars, ruined. But he didn’t so much as flinch—his focus remained entirely on the wound on my leg.

Third Person P.O.V Sleeping peacefully on the bed WanKe removes the pillow from beneath his head and cradles it to his chest. The sun beams through the wooden lattice of the window making him to stir up when the first beam of the sunlight hits his face, groaning under his breath he sits up straight. He puts his hand to his head which is throbbing furrowing his eyebrows he turns to his left.

There had to be a worthy ruler of Oceane; I just wasn’t sure it was Prince Sadeon. “The gown looks lovely on you, dear.” Lyla smiled warmly. I turned to my maiden. “It’s impossibly tight.” She scowled. “Of course it is, milady. How else will the Prince fall smitten?” I suppressed a shiver. “I told you not to call me that, Lyla. My father isn’t here.” She chuckled. “You may dress like a Princess, but you sure don’t act like one sometimes, milady. It is proper to address someone of your status respectively.”

But in her mind, only a very beautiful princess would suit their handsome emperor. Aren't you also a princess? said a small voice inside her mind. She quickly shook her head to get rid of that little voice. Yes, she was a princess but that was before. And another thing, her face is not pleasant in the eyes of other people. The emperor might frightened when he saw her ugly appearance.