The Devil Wears Prada Novels & Stories

Crystal chandeliers, silver trays, wolves in suits pretending we weren't one wrong word away from tearing each other apart. Devon had ordered me to "assist." Translation: stand in the corner looking useful while he paraded his perfect future Luna. I wore the dress he'd sent: black leather, backless, hem barely covering my ass. No bra. Thong optional. I'd rolled my eyes when the box arrived, but I put it on anyway. Because screw him. And because I wanted every wolf in that room to choke on the sight.

That’s a problem for future-Alicia. ********* Chiara is exactly like I’d imagined her to be. She would have been perfect for the lead role in ‘The Devil Wears Prada’. My instant dislike of her is mutual. Because this is a first dress fitting and I’m definitely not going to be standing naked or dressed in only underwear in front of her, or any strangers. I make sure to wear tight, high-rise exercise shorts and a sports bra. She can see my back markings only, nothing else.

Devi murmured, leaning against the doorframe, his jealousy of the clothes touching her skin already visible in his tight jaw. "It matches the ice in your veins." An hour later, Cali stood in front of the full-length mirror. She had slicked her hair back into a tight, severe bun. Her makeup was minimal, save for a blood-red lipstick that made her look like she’d just finished a meal. She looked like a ruthless CEO. She looked like a Santoro. Devi walked up behind her, dressed in a matching charcoal three-piece suit. He placed a heavy, diamond-encrusted collar necklace around her neck, another beautiful tether.

“The star of the film is a sexy slutty wife who, it seems, will do anything to pass an interview and get a job. I’ve just paused it as the slut is putting a cum-filled condom into her panties. What kind of nasty slut does that, do you think? Oh! right, you can’t answer. Anyway, the reason I called is to instruct you about what you will be expected to wear when you arrive at work on Monday. The way you dressed for the interview was good, but I want you to look every bit the office slut that you are, so I expect you to be wearing a white blouse that's a size too small for you along with a dark red bra which is also a size too small. These will be combined with a black skirt which is tight but

She looked like someone ripped straight out of a luxury magazine—hair perfect, body sculpted, attitude already leaking from ten feet away. Wow, I thought… right before she opened her mouth. “Samantha, where is my fiancé?!” she screeched. Well. So much for the nice legs. The Devil Wears Prada had entered the building. And did she just say fiancé? There was only one person in this place someone like her would claim: Dominic. Of course. No wonder she moved like she owned the company. Entitled brat. I tried to keep my head down, praying she wouldn’t notice me. No such luck. She stopped directly in front of me, eyes cold, lips pursed.

Deviana frowned, confused. Lila shoved the screen toward her. Deviana’s eyes widened in horror. The headline screamed: “Rising Fashion Designer Spotted with Mysterious Man Late at Night—Scandalous Romance or Career Shortcut?” Photos filled the article—Deviana stepping into Kevin’s car, her weary face angled in such a way that it looked almost flirtatious. The angles made it appear as though she leaned against him intimately. “What—what is this…?!” Deviana gasped, her voice trembling. “That’s not true! Kevin was just giving me a ride home!”

"Thea, you have a degree from Stanford. You built Leighton Steels' marketing strategy from the ground up. You're not some charity case—you earned this." "Did I really?" The question came out harsher than intended. "Or did Noah Blackwood just buy himself a convenient employee with a tragic backstory?" Before Liam could answer, the doorbell rang. I opened it to find a woman in her forties, impeccably dressed in a cream pantsuit, flanked by two assistants carrying garment bags and equipment cases. "Thea Leighton?" Her smile was professional, practiced. "I'm Margot Campbell, your image consultant. Mr. Blackwood sent me."

Hell no I have given her hundreds of glares in the past few hours of the day. “Oh my gosh you're all red again” she chuckled “Are you helping me pick my outfit or not?” I asked walking off. We had come to buy new office wears for me as I will be one of the designers of RiverStyle. But I haven't made any choice as my mind keeps wandering off. And the witch behind me was not helping matters Julie remained silent. But her smiles never disappeared. “How about seducing him while at the office…” “Julie!” I could feel the amused stares around us. But the devil stood, holding her mouth. Amused

I stayed in my office until it was time to meet up with Devil this won’t end in meaningless sex again, I told myself, I’m not against sex, she’s really good at it, but I don’t tend to sleep with associates often. The drive to the restaurant wasn’t that long, Devil chose a high-end restaurant of course, it was reserved under an alias name this time instead of mine, I could walk in into a total trap, and say I was meant to meet with a devil, not the Devil. Always think ahead, keep a safety net there for you, and don’t trust anyone, that’s how we work, walking inside the restaurant, Devil was sitting waiting for me. She was wearing a navy blue dress, her signature heels, her hair styled as alwa

Inside was a piece of bright red, sheer, almost transparent lingerie. "What the hell is this?" she muttered in a trembling voice. She was disgusted by the garment. With an angry gesture, Yara threw the garment on the bed and sat in a nearby chair, holding her throbbing head. A few seconds later, the door rudely opened. Yara looked up to find Damian standing in the doorway, staring at her intently. She stepped in and locked the door behind her. "Why did you throw it?" Damian asked, his voice sounding stern. "What do you mean, Mr. Damian?" Yara replied, trying to sound stern despite her shaky voice. "Why are the servant's clothes you gave me even like that?"