Lady Prim
5 Published Stories
Lady Prim's Books and Stories
Controlling Mr. Coopers
Short stories "You need to stay away from me to stay alive. Am I clear, Miss Bell?" He glowered at me and pulled the water gun from my hands.
Well, what wrong did I do? I am just giving presentation with few realistic examples.
One second... why are you spared of him, Rainbow!
He is just a mere CEO and you are a ten letter long chairwoman.
"Ahem... And you should stay in you limits to stay in the pompany at all." I finally pompleted the statement with ponfident stance but God bless me, I am so spared of this man from inside.
Oh Lord, why did you throw me here?
***
Keenan Coopers, who lived a life of royalty, born with a silver spoon and got everything he wanted. What will happen when nobody-like Rainbow comes into his life and turns it upside down?
Rainbow Bell, a nurse by profession, is a kind and meekly spicy girl who aspires to become a doctor. What will happen when she unexpectedly gets under Keenan's skin, not to mention the way she addresses him.
The mistakes in the above paragraphs are not really mistakes, it is how Rainbow speaks. To know more, follow the journey of the opposite poles. An Italian's Escort Lover
Short stories "Why did you follow me, Nicco? We are nothing to each other now." I whispered with so much pain and sorrow coating over my voice.
"Few months ago, time was favorable to you and you chose to leave me." Nicco inched towards me with furious red eyes and clenched jaws in anger, but held my hand ever so gently like he always does. "Now my time has come. See, I found you and now I will make sure you never leave me again. If I need to glue you to me, so be it." He declared firmly and crashed his lips on mine.
Phoebe Smith, an escort of thirteen years sweet and gentle, fell in love with Niccolo Russo who was her only master and the only person who ever touched her. He was her first best friend, her first kiss and her first in everything. So why did she run away from him if she loves him so much?
Niccolo Russo, CEO of Russo empire, Arrogant and bad tempered yet so understanding; felt his heart skip a beat several times only for one woman. Phoebe. She was his friend, his adviser and his sanity. Then what had he ever done to make her run away from him?
Follow the journey of two people bind by promises, duties and responsibilities pulling them apart and how love binds them together forever. The Mafia Monk
Young Adult "I kill for living" I said seriously expecting the beauty before me to back away in fear. I leaned close towards her and brought my face just inches away from her beautiful pinkish face.
"Kill? Kill what?" She frowned. I internally hit my forehead at the raising annoyance. She didn't back away from the closeness, in fact she did not observe it at all. She was too much into the conversation.
"Of course I Kill people. I'm not into poultry to raise and kill chicken." I scoffed and leaned in closer to intimidate her.
I was expecting her to shriek, cry, yell and run away far from me but What I got in response was what exactly you expect from the beauty. The unexpected answer.
"So you clean too. Nice." She told herself with a smile and a appreciative nod.
"Goodness, What and why would I clean?" Furrowing my brows in confusion and utter disbelief, I shook my head to compose myself.
"You said you kill people. You kill bad people to do welfare to the Earth so you are cleaning away dirt right?"
That did it. I, Demyan Lev Petrov, the most powerful, ruthless and dangerous king of Mafia, accept that I lost the argument to her.
Zinnia Mae White, the most innocent and a mental girl I ever got lucky to meet. That crazy girl doesn't know whom to fear and whom not to. The day she entered my life was the day my happy, bloody, dangerous life, she turned it, crushed it and made me lose my sanity with everything she does and says.
But Damn, I love that in her so much.
I love her
This mental, fickle minded, school teacher of mine!
My Zinnia, My insane solace. You might like
I Designed His Dream House, He Built a Secret Family
Xi Jin I was in a high-end mall, browsing a toy store for my friend's daughter's birthday, when my world tilted on its axis. Through the polished glass storefront, I saw him. My husband, Julian. He was in the café opposite, seated beside the sprawling indoor children's play area. He wasn't alone.
A woman, Seraphina Vance—a social media influencer whose perfectly curated life I’d occasionally scrolled past—was laughing, her head tilted just so. And between them, a little boy of about four, gleefully mashing a piece of cake into his own dark hair. Julian’s hair.
They looked like a family. A perfect, happy family.
An icy dread washed over me. I remembered Julian refusing to have a baby with me, citing the immense pressure of his work. All his business trips, the late nights… were they spent with them? I recalled a night six months ago when Noah had supposedly been sick. Julian had stayed out all night, his voice strained over the phone, telling me a "critical client had a medical emergency." The lie was so easy for him.
I must have stared too long. The little boy, Noah, noticed me. He picked up a toy water pistol from their table, aimed it directly at me through the café’s open front, and squeezed the trigger. A jet of cold water hit my silk skirt, leaving a dark, spreading stain.
Seraphina Vance turned, her eyes meeting mine. There was no surprise, only a flicker of amusement. She offered a saccharine smile. "Oh, dear. He's just playing with you," she cooed, her voice dripping with condescension.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I turned and walked away, my legs unsteady. I needed to leave, to breathe, to think. In the underground parking garage, I fumbled for my keys, my hands shaking. As I passed Julian’s sleek sedan, something on the passenger seat caught my eye. A heavy, cream-colored card with embossed lettering.
"You are joyfully invited to the Christening of Noah Thorne."
It was real. More real than a fleeting email. A physical invitation to a life I never knew existed. How could I have been so blind?
My phone felt heavy in my hand. I didn’t call my best friend. I didn’t call a lawyer. I called the director of the Zurich Architectural Fellowship, a prestigious program I had deferred for him, for us.
"I'd like to accept the fellowship," I said, my voice eerily calm. "I can leave immediately." Hands of Stone, Heart of Vengeance
Catlaina Sloggett My husband told me I was a bad investment, a legacy asset he was forced to liquidate after a car crash stole his memory of our love five years ago. He replaced me with a "Muse," a supermodel whose lies were as polished as the magazine covers she graced.
But when her son—the boy Adrian believed was his heir—suffered a sudden allergic reaction, she tearfully accused me of being a jealous chemist who mixed poison to harm an innocent child.
My husband, the man whose empire was built on the scents I created, didn't hesitate. In a blind rage, he declared that if my hands were used for evil, they shouldn't be used at all. He ordered his security team to bring quick-drying industrial cement.
"Since you can't control these hands, I will seal them forever," he commanded, his voice devoid of mercy.
He then had my hands encased in stone and had me displayed in the window of our flagship store, a public spectacle for the world to condemn.
As I stood there, the heavy weight crushing my fingers and my soul, I finally understood. My blind love and foolish hope had been my downfall. I had loved the wrong man, and he had utterly destroyed me.
But they made one fatal mistake. They didn't know about the hidden camera I’d planted in the nursery. And they had no idea that my family controlled the very flowers that kept his empire alive. The 48th Lie
Da Caomei Today is my sixth wedding anniversary. It's also the day my husband, Liam, brought up divorce for the 47th time.
He does this for Seraphina, his childhood friend. The woman who orchestrated a car crash on our wedding day, a tragedy that left her unable to have children and left him shackled by a debt of guilt. For six years, I have been the price of his repayment.
I endured the relentless cycle. But this time was different. This time, after Seraphina pushed me down a spiral staircase, Liam promised me justice. He swore he would make her pay.
Instead, he ensured the smart home security system "mysteriously" erased all evidence.
That night, from the supposed safety of a house he had arranged, Seraphina had me kidnapped. As her hired thugs tore at my clothes in the back of a cold, dark van, I managed to make one desperate emergency call to Liam through my smartwatch.
He saw my plea. And he hung up.
I leaped from that moving van, not onto asphalt, but into the cold, unforgiving sea. As I fought for my life in the icy water, swallowed by the darkness, I made a vow.
This time, there would be no 48th remarriage.
This time, I would simply cease to exist. The Twenty-Billion-Dollar Sacrifice
Guo Er I gave up my twenty-billion-dollar inheritance and cut ties with my family, all for my boyfriend of five years, Liam.
But just as I was about to tell him I was pregnant with our child, he dropped a bombshell.
He needed me to take the fall for his childhood sweetheart, Sophia. She'd been in a hit-and-run, and her acting career couldn't handle the scandal right before his company's IPO.
When I refused and told him about our baby, his face went cold. He told me to terminate the pregnancy immediately.
He didn't know the scars on my own back were from that same fire. He didn't know I was the one who pulled him out, not her.
He had his assistant schedule the appointment and sent me to the clinic alone. There, the nurse told me the procedure carried a high risk of permanent infertility.
He knew. And he still sent me.
I walked out of that clinic, choosing to keep my child. At that exact moment, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a glowing article announcing that Liam and Sophia were expecting their first child, complete with a photo of his hand resting protectively on her stomach.
My world shattered. Wiping away a tear, I found the number I hadn't called in five years.
"Dad," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I was wrong. I'm ready to come home."