Machiavelli The Prince Kindle Novels & Stories

The glorious name of The Man of pride. "All rise to His Imperial Grace, The Crowned Prince of The East, His Royal Highness, Prince Nolan Armstrong". The words of the announcer were carried out when the figure of the Prince of The East came to light and every breathing thing, man and woman, kings, emperors, and rulers, queens, duchesses, and counts, mighty men, and countesses, the rich, the poor, the laborers, bowed to his presence. He stood in power. Kathryn could not believe her eyes. He was there. Her prince was there in flesh and blood. Nolan's dark eyes were fixed on the throne as they beheld just one person. He only wanted to see just her and stand before just her.

Suddenly a voice rang out. “MAJOR General HENRY PLEASE STOP, I AM THE MAN IN RULE IN THE Citadel. I HAVE CREATED THE PRINCESS AND THE PRINCIPLE HAS eloped. WE DON'T WANT WAR, PLEASE STOP. HE HAS RECEIVED ONE, AND I WILL GIVE THE KING TO HIM, UP TO HIM.” “I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY, TODAY STEPHAN KINGDOM WILL BE FUCKED, NO MORE LIKE A KINGDOM. THROW!!!"

Jennifer leaned closer, her voice laced with smug satisfaction. "Sophia, you're not actually mad, are you? I didn't expect things to turn out like this. I was just casually chatting with them, and they all fell for me. That's not my fault, is it?" Lucy nodded along. "Of course it's not your fault. It just means you're charming. Not like some girl who thinks being a Principessa means every man in the world will fall at her feet." Lucy and Annie exchanged a knowing glance, smiling to each other.

A crack in the king's armor he wears permanently, which would tell me I am not just a trophy, an amusement, a prize in his perpetual war. I turn slightly; his arm tightens instinctively. In the faint light filtering through the blinds, I contemplate his profile. The hard features, even relaxed. The sensual mouth, now closed, which can utter such cold orders and such brutal whispers. The man who can reduce me to a state of primal shiver and who, the next moment, discusses money flows or rival territories with the same ruthless concentration. I know how to provoke him. How to inflame him. How to unleash the storm within him. I have mastered the art of war he taught me.

’ ‘If you follow the rules, your life will be great. ‘No. We don't report to the authorities in this house. ’ ‘Nothing is illegal if the people in charge support it. ’ ‘Money. All that matters is money. Get money, more money, and more money. ’ ‘Even if you report to the police, do you honestly think they'll do anything? I have money. We have money. So many connections, influence. ’ ‘If you 're angry, suck it up. You know you have no choice. You never have. ’

She wasn’t done. “You bully people below you because you think dominance proves authority,” she said, eyes locked on mine. “But all it proves is insecurity wrapped in control.” A few gasps slipped through the class at that. Ava didn’t flinch. “And Machiavelli, since you like quoting him….never said cruelty and arrogance were strengths. He warned rulers to avoid being hated at all costs. Because once hatred replaces fear, even the strongest ruler becomes replaceable.” She tilted her head slightly.

It's the alarm in little man’s voice that has me spinning, laying my eyes on the rumored ‘Mad Prince. Alpha Zayne. He has both arms around two stunning omegas. He's shirtless, with tattooed torso on display. His stomach is hard with abs, his chest is broad—good heavens, his body is a work of art, perfectly sculptured, and his face…? Goddess. The tabloids did not do justice to it. Dark, shoulder-length hair frames his chiseled jaw, perfect lips and eyes as grey as gun metal. My stomach flips as those stormy eyes lock with mine.

she explained. She rubbed her nose as she looked at his unfocused gaze and continued, "Prince Aldridge wants someone by his side who would not do what his father did to his mother or what the Duke Apparent did to him. He is only binding you with threats when in reality, they mean nothing. Prince Aldridge has suffered so much because of his status but he does not show it. What he needs the most is someone's shoulder to cry on who will not run to the highest gossiper and spread the news that the bastard son of the king wants to be married to that of the same gender."

It made my heart race in a way I hated. "Go read a book, Cecilia. Let me handle the rest." He turned and walked back into the office, the door clicking shut behind him. I stood there for a long time, my hand going to the spot where he’d touched me. I was glaring, my mouth open at the indignation of it all. Yet, my skin was tingling. I was angry, terrified, and confused all at once. Finally I huffed and shook my head. I guess reading was better than nothing. I grabbed a book from the coffee table. ‘The Prince’ by Machiavelli. Fitting.

"Let me see you." She stood, meeting his eyes carefully—not too direct, not too submissive. The Prince studied her for a long moment. "Castellani features," he said finally. "You have your father's eyes." The room went silent. Everyone knew that name. Everyone knew what it meant. "You knew my father, Your Highness?" Alessia's voice was steady despite her racing heart. "I did. A brilliant man. A principled man. I deeply regretted the necessity of his exile." The Prince's gaze was penetrating. "He wrote essays on governance that I still consult. His ideas about meritocracy and social justice were ahead of their time."