Art Of War Book Novels & Stories

"If you go down there with your face looking like that, as skittish as she is right now, she'd probably bolt." "What's wrong with my face?" "Never mind, what do you plan to do?" "What did I teach you about Sun Tzu?" "Ah, shit, no. You're not about to go Tony Montana on these people, are you? Because I gotta tell you, our town is too small for that shit." "The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting." "Coulda fooled me. Didn't you just bash somebody's face in like a week ago?" "There is no instance of a nation benefiting from prolonged warfare."

“Are you guys ready to finally do as we were formed to do?” My eyes glared at Callighan as he lifted his head up to the sky. Once that loud howl came from him, we all prepared ourselves as the wolves charged at us altogether. All we could do was fight to our hearts desire. One charged at me and right when I thought life was over for me, the gunshots came right after him. Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! However, those shots were not enough… -To Be Continued- The End of Book 2

– I blurted out with an air of skepticism, almost spitting out the coffee I had just sipped in my mouth. - Relax… we are not going to burn down the lab or anything. Since your project also depends on him now, well, we need to guarantee he's kept alive. - She winked. - Right? - You have to outsmart him. War tactics also include playing the role of the silent, peaceful, lovely enemy, who is always ready for any attack. Preparation is everything, darling. It's half the war won. - Okay? - I must confess that there were times when Susie surprised me, or scared me. And that was one of them, and I just could not decide which was it this time. It could easily be both.

The war wasn't just against the administrators anymore. It was against ourselves.

VITTORIA’S POV Three days before the wedding, I was sitting in the library. Not hiding. Not lurking. Sitting, comfortably, curled into one of the leather lounge chairs with a book resting open in my hands. The Art of War. Sun Tzu had lived and died long before men like Nikolai De Luca ever learned to call themselves kings, but strategy never aged. Power never changed. Only the pieces on the board did. I liked ancient warfare texts. They were honest. They didn’t pretend victory came from morality or mercy. They understood what most people refused to admit, wars were won before the first blow was struck.

She pulled it out, sneezed once as dust motes tickled her nostrils, and lowered the book on the coffee table. The title was written in cursive gold letters, 'The Art Of The Body'. Clearly out of curiosity, she opened to the middle of the book, and her eyes nearly popped out in pure mortification. The book contained explicit diagrams of men and women in different, erotic, sexual poses.

I sat slowly, crossing my legs, my fingers tapping my knee. “What is this about?” I asked. Mama exhaled shakily. “My daughter…..I want peace…Real peace…Not this… this silent war you both are fighting.” I said nothing. “You girls grew up together,” she continued softly. “Shared the same food, the same room, the same laughter… And look at you now..tears and bitterness… Is this what you want?” I swallowed. “Morher…” She held up her hand. “No…Listen.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

And the other… doomed to eternal longing. “Serene really was a jealous goddess,” I muttered bitterly. “Couldn’t handle you touching her man, so she cursed the bloodline.” “It wasn’t jealousy,” Morgana said sharply. “The council was starting wars. I led the Great War. And the war against you, Alaric. For that… I am sorry.” Alaric’s dragon growled low. “I had to protect Liza until she matured,” Morgana said. “Every hardship you all faced… was training. But there’s one more secret—one I never wanted to speak.”

“Message received, old man.” The light blinked once more, then vanished. I sat there for a long time after, the waves whispering below, and realized that peace… that fragile, naïve idea… had already started to rot. But the next war wouldn’t be between families. It would be a battle of wills between father and son.

“But if I had to, I’d go to war a thousand times over. Because every battle, every struggle, every challenge I faced was just a step toward this victory—toward you.” Her lips curved into a smile, and as she whispered, “I love you,” the room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us bound by a love that had defied every obstacle. In that moment, I knew: Mates at War was never about defeating each other. It was about finding the strength to fight for each other. And in the end, we won the greatest battle of all—a battle of hearts. The end.