Private Eye Jason Priestley Novels & Stories

He draws out. The class room door opens and a man in a black suit walks in. The room falls silent instantly. Jason Priest, the Head of the investigation bureau My blood turns cold as my classmates gasp out loud. My professor goes silent as he face drains of color. Jason Priest never appears in public. Never in schools And never unannounced. He looks straight at me, then beside me at Kieran. With his icy tone, deadly calm voice, he looks at me again and says. " Mr.Nightshade, you are coming with me now."

Mike smiled up at me. “I need you to keep Lynn with you. You are her protection.” Oh hell no, is this what he wanted me to do, protection duty. “What are you playing at Mike? I will help you deal with Joseph but I am not keeping that woman with me and protecting her. Forget it.” Mike glared at me and I glared right back. He had me fucked up if he thought I was doing this, I’m not a guard dog. I am Jensen Daniels, the biggest name in New York aside from Joseph King.

Leo can make a priest sin and I have seen it before. He did it for shits and giggles sometimes, but the way he looks at Jason is different. He truly cares for the kid.” I cleared my throat. “Enough of this. Let’s talk business.”

While talking with Shaun, Gracie couldn't stop but steal glances from Jason every now then. Observing how quiet and sinless he appeared to the world in those glasses covering his dark amber eyes. His head down, shirt buttoned properly and tucked in his trousers, he's so different in everyone's vision. And the only spectrum that was visible to Gracie was unseen by the people around. She smiled to herself, without listening to anything that the person in front of him was speaking.

I had, however, managed to tear off a piece of his princess’s earlobe in a later encounter. The memory brought a wicked grin to my face, but I shook it off, focusing on the man waiting for me now. Jason wasn’t like the others. His dark, sapphire eyes were focused on me alone, and there was no shame or hesitation in his gaze. He looked at me like I was the only person in the room. “Good evening, Lady Phia,” he said in that low, velvety voice of his. He rose from his seat and approached, holding out a hand. “You look… absolutely breathtaking.”

He says with a serious expression Although Tinsley thought that something was amiss in his words, she still nodded seriously, "Of course. My Triplets is the number one in mommy's heart." Hearing his mom reply, Jason was relieved and immediately climbed down from her body. "Ok." He replied and quickly resumed his cold demeanor. Even when Tinsley wanted to ask the reason behind his tears and actions, Jason pursed his lips seriously and put his focus on the television but inwardly he was feeling smug. So what if Jarek is one of the richest men in Ryle and the continent, they're the number one in mom's heart forever. Seeing that he was back to his normal character, Tinsley decided to let him be,

Done! "I think you need to confess your love." The priest whispered. Jason gave me a pointed stare his lips turning upwards in a smirk. Am I supposed to say I love you? God!! "Yeah, and I love you?'' Heck that came out as a question but who cares? The priest stifled a laugh and covered it with a cough. Ryan was grinning behind Jason and mouthed 'YOU ARE HOPELESS' Shit, I just made a fool of myself. "Mr. Brown" the priest nudged Jason who is smirking at my beetroot-colored face.

The media cameras zoomed in as the chairman raised his hand for calm. “I present to you,” he said with a heavy pause, “the new leader of Valentine Beauty Group—my son, Jason Hale.” The double doors at the side of the stage opened. And that was when it happened. He walked in like he owned the room—tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a navy three-piece suit so sharp it could cut glass. A silver wristwatch gleamed on his wrist, dark Cartier Panther glasses rested on his eyes, and he wore sleek black leather gloves.

I rested my forehead on his chest as he tightened his grip around the sheets either side of my head before pulling out of me, laying his head on the crook of my neck for a second before pulling away. I covered myself with the messy, rolled up sheets as he rolled onto his back, breath heavy, eyes fixed on the ceiling like he’d conquered something worth remembering. Elijah always carried himself that way, like a king without a crown, too sure of his power to need one. The scent of smoke and cologne clung to his skin, faint traces of arrogance laced with victory. A victory that he has yet to obtain. He turned his head toward me, his lips curving into that sharp, lazy smirk.

A small metal cot was bolted directly to the floorboards in the center. Jason was lying on the mattress. He was wearing an old, oversized gray fleece that looked large on his thin frame, his long legs drawn up slightly toward his stomach. His skin was the color of old paper, the dark circles under his eyes so deep they looked like bruises under the blue-tinted light. His eyes were wide open, staring fixedly at the rusted rivet on the ceiling panel, his fingers twitching in a slow, rhythmic pattern against the wool of his blanket.