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    Call Him Prince Daddy (Book Three): Call Him Prince Daddy, #3
    Call Him Prince Daddy (Book Three): Call Him Prince Daddy, #3
    Call Him Prince Daddy (Book Three): Call Him Prince Daddy, #3
    Ebook66 pages43 minutes

    Call Him Prince Daddy (Book Three): Call Him Prince Daddy, #3

    By Layla Valentine

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    About this ebook

    He's a Prince, a playboy, and a hottie single dad,
    And he might just be the end of me…

    Hell, I've never had time for a husband, never mind my own Prince Charming,
    I'm married to my job, after all.
    My fashion brand has brought me riches, but no closer to Mr. Right.
    That's until I meet Jacques, the deposed former Prince of Borovik.
    Fiendishly funny, irresistibly handsome, irrepressibly charming,
    And his daughter? Adorable.
    I thought he'd be the perfect face for my brand,
    But I should have known, this is no fairytale!
    He's got secrets, and if I don't steer clear, they'll bring me down with him…
    So why can't I leave Prince Single Daddy behind?

    This is the third book in the Call Him Prince Daddy series.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLayla Valentine
    Release dateJun 28, 2022
    ISBN9798201880545
    Call Him Prince Daddy (Book Three): Call Him Prince Daddy, #3

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      Book preview

      Call Him Prince Daddy (Book Three) - Layla Valentine

      CALL HIM PRINCE DADDY

      Book Three

      LAYLA VALENTINE

      Copyright © 2022 by Layla Valentine

      All rights reserved.

      No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

      CONTENTS

      1. Sophie

      2. Jacques

      3. Jacques

      4. Sophie

      5. Sophie

      6. Jacques

      7. Sophie

      8. Jacques

      9. Jacques

      10. Sophie

      Epilogue

      CHAPTER 1

      SOPHIE

      That night, I strolled calmly into my favorite Korean barbecue joint, looking casual in jeans and a T-shirt, with some of my favorite high-heeled boots on and my hair held back by a chic bandana. It was a supremely casual look for me, and an even more casual look for the scene in LA.

      Casual. Extremely casual. Nothing to see here, folks. No big scandal brewing, and certainly not a secret meeting with my biggest competition and previous mentor to hear about the situation with my new spokesmodel and the guy I’d accidentally slept with last night. No big deal.

      Of course, inside my head, I was screaming. My entire body was shaking with nerves and I felt as if I might throw up at any second.

      I’m usually really good with pressure, and I don’t care about competition or intense meetings or even bad news. I’d been in business and at the top for too long to let things like that actually get to me.

      And it had taken me about three steps out of my house earlier tonight to figure out why I was freaking freaked out about the whole thing. It wasn’t the pressure. It wasn’t the shady backroom feel of this meeting with Stephano. It wasn’t the fact that he’d showed up at my photo shoot somehow not only knowing when it was happening but also that I’d be there.

      Yeah, those were all inconveniences. And I was definitely going to have to talk to Gloria about whether she’d let anything slip to him about my whereabouts. But those were all regular business. Business as usual when you worked in one of the most back-stabbingest industries that existed. Even when I had the most reliable assistant ever, those sorts of things happened, and I dealt with them like a normal, grown-up human being.

      No, the problem was nothing to do with business. And it certainly couldn’t be filed under ‘business as usual.’ The problem was that Stephano wanted to talk about Jacques.

      And that had hit a nerve I didn’t even realize I had.

      The moment he’d said Jacques’ name, it had struck me somewhere down in the depths of my stomach, pulling at a thread that somehow led right to my heart. And that had freaked me right out. Because it had made me realize two things.

      One, I was way too personally involved in this particular situation—which was why I had told myself for the last twenty years that I shouldn’t mix business with pleasure. And two, I didn’t yet trust Jacques enough to know for sure that Stephano didn’t have anything on him.

      I definitely had feelings for the guy, and those feelings were big enough that I was completely avoiding looking at them too closely. But evidently those feelings didn’t mean I trusted him yet. Because I was walking into that restaurant terrified that I was going to hear something even worse than what I already knew about him.

      And that right there had me going through what I knew in rapid-fire style, trying to figure out where there might be holes. Trying to remember everything he’d ever said, and whether I had asked enough questions about the stuff he didn’t talk about as much.

      Because he said he’d told me everything. But when the shit hit the fan, I actually had no way of knowing whether that was true or not. And I was in deep enough now that I didn’t know if I could get back out again. Not without making an enormous fucking mess in the process.

      None of which even touched the stickier question, which was the feeling of ultimate pending betrayal. What would I do if I found out that Jacques had been lying to me? What would I do if it turned out he’d put me in an even worse position by keeping something else to himself, when my company was on the line?

      Still. You don’t show your competition that you’re scared—even if that competition is also your mentor. So I threw open the door and walked into that restaurant in my completely casual look,

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