Novels by Praise Ikpefuran

Mark wrapped the towel over Freya's shoulders with gentle firmness, carefully. "There's a shirt on the couch you can change into," he said, his voice low. "And we both know you're not drunk. I've seen enough desperate women to recognize one."Her cheeks burned at his words, and she held the towel tighter around herself. The raw truth in his observation stung more than she expected.Freya's phone buzzed in her hand. Stephanie's name lit up the screen:"Investors are flooding the office about the stock market rise. How should I respond to all their calls, Ma'am?"Freya stared at the message, her mind scattered. Usually, she knew exactly what to do - it was what made her such a good VP of operations. But now, sitting here in Mark's borrowed shirt, she couldn't focus. Even good news felt overwhelming.Her fingers hovered over the phone screen. The company needed her. The investors wanted to talk. But her thoughts kept spinning out of confusion. In the kitchen, the humming sound of the co

Freya's anger carried her straight to her father's study, her heels striking the polished floors like hammer blows. She threw open the heavy wooden doors, ready for battle. The scent of leather and old books – usually so comforting – now felt suffocating. "How dare you use David to manipulate me! After everything he did—”Mr Peterson Hart didn't even look up from his desk. Instead, he simply pushed a document toward her, the paper sliding across the smooth surface of his massive desk. The casual gesture stopped her mid-sentence.Her hands shook as she picked up the papers. The title made her heart skip: "Transfer of Ownership - Hart's Wine Corporation.""I've signed the company over to you," her father said quietly, finally meeting her eyes. "Everything you've ever wanted. All it needs is my final approval."Freya's heart pounded against her ribs. The family company – her dream since childhood, the legacy she'd worked toward her entire life – was right there in black and white. But sh

Freya knew something was wrong the moment she walked into the office that morning. The usual buzz of conversation died as she passed the cubicles replaced by a heavy silence that made her heels sound too loud against the marble floors.. Coworkers stared at her, then quickly looked away when she noticed them. Even Jim from Accounting, who usually couldn't even look at her, was openly watching her every move.She'd dressed carefully that morning – a crisp navy blazer over a silk blouse, with a smoothly ironed suit trouser accompanied with her black 6 inch heels."Ms. Freya!" Her assistant Lena burst through the door agitated before Freya could even put down her coffee. Stephanie’s face was red, and she placed her tablet quit tight against her chest. Her usually perfectly styled hair was slightly messy, suggesting she'd been running her hands through it – something she only did when really stressed. "You need to see this right now.” Stephanie said, tensed.The tablet landed on her desk,

Freya sat frozen in her chair, Mark's question hanging in the air between them. The crystal chandeliers of the upscale restaurant suddenly felt too bright, too exposing. His arrogance in watching her for two hours before approaching her made her blood boil."Let me be clear," she said, keeping her voice steady despite her rising temper. "I have no interest in playing whatever game you think this is. So why don't we end this charade now?"Mark flashed a fake smile. "One date isn't enough for me to decide if I want you or not, Ms. Freya." he drawled, leaning back in his chair with the confidence of someone who'd never heard the word 'no' before. "Especially someone who shows up in combat boots clearly trying to make a statement."His words made her skin crawl. The casual arrogance in his voice, the way he looked at her like she was another item on the menu – it all confirmed exactly why she couldn't stand himFreya reached for her leopard-print purse and pulled out a business card, dro

Freya stared at her reflection, smoothing down her black tailored suit. The call from her mother had been unexpected: "Your father wants you at dinner tonight."Those words echoed in her mind as she adjusted her collar. In five years working at his company, she'd watched countless young men in expensive suits parade into his office – all potential heirs to his empire. Her father's search for a "responsible successor" had been a deliberate slight. Women need not apply, his actions had made clear.Yet today, he'd asked for her. After years of silence, after their last explosive argument where he'd torn apart her dedication to the company. She'd already drafted her resignation letter, planning to submit it after closing the Total Stars deal this week.But now... this dinner invitation. Her stomach tightened. Was he finally seeing her worth? Or was this another opportunity for disappointment?She squared her shoulders in a feat to appear confident and calm. Whatever her father's intention