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Trapped by the Devilish King Novel Cover

Trapped by the Devilish King

Camila broke into the wrong hotel suite, pointed at the most feared man in the country, and called him a cheating bastard. He should've thrown her out. But then he saw her eyes - the same eyes as the woman he could never forget. That was all it took. Prescott didn't ask who she was - he just made her his. "You can have anything you want - except my love," he warned her. But when she vanished without a trace, the man who claimed he couldn't love went mad trying to find her. He's a devil who doesn't know how to love - until her. She's an ordinary girl caught in a storm of power, secrets, and desire. But she won't break. She won't beg. She'll rise.
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Chapter 3

Prescott caught the flicker in her eyes, and it didn't take a genius to figure out she was clearly up to something. He curled his lips into a faint, mocking smile.

"I'll ask just one more time. Answer me, or else..."

His cold warning hung low in the air, sharp as a knife.

Camila was already sweating bullets. She bit her lip, trying hard to keep her cool.

"It's a misunderstanding-really! I was supposed to help my friend catch her cheating boyfriend, but I walked into the wrong room. I thought you were the jerk. I swear, I didn't lie. Not a word! I'm sorry I yelled at you-I mean it. I genuinely apologize, sir. I'm not here on anyone's orders. I didn't even know who you were before tonight..."

Prescott didn't say a word. His dark, ice-cold eyes stared her down like he was peeling her soul apart.

That gaze made her chest tighten. It was like he could see straight through every layer of her, and it left her rattled.

They were standing too close-so close, in fact, that the light scent on her skin mixed with a faint trace of alcohol hit him head-on. His sharp eyes narrowed even more.

She'd clearly been drinking. But was that weird behavior just liquid courage? Or was she putting on an act?

The tension between them got real thick real fast. The room was dead quiet. You could hear every breath.

Camila was stiff as a board. Twenty years of her life and this was the first time she'd ever been this close to a random guy-and it showed. She was clearly uncomfortable.

She shifted slightly, trying to create some space, but that only made things worse. Her movement looked suspicious in Prescott's eyes.

His expression darkened. Before she had time to react, he grabbed her wrists, twisted them behind her back, and pushed her around, pressing her down with force.

"You're brushing off my warning? Alright then-some people only learn the hard way."

His voice was low and icy, like a warning straight out of a nightmare-chilling and dangerous.

"I-I didn't mean to..."Camila jolted, frozen by the chilling intensity in the man's gaze-and even more mortified by how close he'd pressed up against her. The raw masculine presence surrounding her made her cheeks flush bright red.

Even the sharp, steady beat of his powerful heartbeat echoed against the silence around them, each pulse pounding against her back, making her involuntarily tremble.

Camila started struggling hard. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with this guy? Who did he think she was? How could he get this touchy-feely, this flirty, without warning?

Suddenly, a hand clamped down tightly on her waist, stopping her every move. "Don't move," he said.

His voice was rough, low, and thick with a heat that didn't belong here, brushing against her ear like a spark. She didn't need any experience to know this reaction from Prescott was very... wrong.

The color instantly drained from her face.

Burning with shame and anger, she bit down hard on her lip, her voice shaking with fury. "Let me go, you... you pervert!"

"Oh, I'm the pervert?" Prescott let her go, face dark and unreadable. "Aren't you the one trying to seduce me?"

His voice was icy, like razor-edged frost. But inside, he was rattled.

For the past two years, he'd been completely indifferent to any kind of lust. No matter how seductive the women got, he'd stayed cold, untouched.

Even stranger, the changes in his body over the last six months had been bothering him to no end. And now, totally unexpected, this random woman had managed to light a fire with just one accidental touch.

Prescott's eyes dropped to Camila, scanning her deeply.

His gaze caught on her slightly open neckline, and what it revealed stopped him cold. Her skin was snowy smooth, glowing subtly under the light. Her slender neck, the soft dip of her collarbone leading to hints of generous curves - framed by her long, dark hair falling over both shoulders - the whole picture had this innocent allure that somehow hit him in all the wrong ways.

The more he looked, the harder it became to tear his eyes away. His throat dried up, and that barely contained fire inside him surged hotter.

There was no doubt - this strangely familiar-eyed woman had somehow unlocked a side of him long asleep.

And maybe, just maybe, she was the key to figuring out what the hell had been going on with him lately.

Whether she truly didn't know who he was, or was just putting on an act, didn't matter now.

He had no plans to let her walk away that easily.

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