Princess Sofia Books Novels & Stories

over the name “Theo Moretti” The Sicilian sea breeze drifted through the window, salty and free. I finally understood that a true mafia principessa was not a weak girl waiting for a knight to save her. She was the one who wielded the sword herself, severing the past and crowning herself. And I, Sophie Lucas, am that principessa.

He holds a blade in each hand, his grin visible even in the gloom. Twelve guns are pointed at Sofia Greco. But she doesn't look at them. She looks at me. Her eyes are wide, manic, filled with a hatred so pure it feels like heat radiating off a fire. She is shaking, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You trap me?" she whispers. "In a church? You think God will forgive this?" "God isn't here, Sofia," I say calmly. "Only us." I stand up. The movement is slow, deliberate. I smooth the front of my white suit. I step away from the chair, closing the distance between us until only five feet of stone floor separate the Queen from the Princess.

"Really? Miss pretty?" "Yes." "What's your name?" "Sofia," she whispers softly. "Well Sofia, I want to tell you a secret." He urges her to move closer and she does. "I also find miss pretty very very pretty." He says loud enough for the rest of the girls to hear and they giggle. Sofia's eye light up when she asks the next question. "Does that mean you'll make her a princess?" He smiles and I can't help but admire how handsome he is.

She wrapped her hands and legs around me while I gripped her waist in a tight hold. Why did I want Rosaline Guerra when I could have had anyone? Ladies swarmed around me in flocks, hoping to catch my attention, and yet I had chosen Rose, despite considering the risks of having her. It was not because she was a seductress with perfect features, but because she oozed a type of power similar to mine. Because she was a queen, only fit for a king and nothing less. I doubted Terenzio would ever understand that.

"I'm real, Sofia." She was also surprised by how friendly Sofia was. She acted as if they went way back, even though they only just met. When she found out Sofia was Rico's sister, she'd imagined the girl would be like those snobby rich girls, but she was wrong. The girl had a smile bright enough to light up a room. And it was also unbelievable that she's a mafia princess. "This is great!" Sofia beamed, smiling ear to ear. "I'll no longer be bored, ugh!" She said with a wink.

The prime minister revolted for no apparent reason and tried to seize the monarch's power. Sofia begged the Queen of Grandia Kingdom, Queen Carina, to save her country. They were a friend at Diamante Academy, and she didn't have any choice left. Feeling hopeless and was forced to the edge of a cliff, she sought her out. Sofia bowed her head, suppressed her tears, and pleaded with Carina to be allowed to enter the Grandia's Imperial Harem as a concubine.

I cried as I continued to touch her. “Sofia? You named her already?” Prince asked beside me and I turned around to face him. “Her name is Sofia and she used to be my horse back home. I’m just surprised to see her here” Prince chuckled even more as he stared at me as if I was trying to be funny. “Did I say something funny?” “I’m sorry but Huff is not even a girl and it belongs to my mother and I thought you would like to ride it sometimes but it turns out you already met him as Sofia?”

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Five: Bound by Passion and Power The gift had left Sofia unsettled, her mind spinning as she returned to the penthouse later that night. She replayed every moment from her evening with Prince Luca—the lavish dinner, his intense gaze as he spoke about trust and power, the private jet now in her name. It wasn’t just a gesture of alliance. It was personal, deeply so. Luca was playing a dangerous game, one that threatened to shake the fragile balance Sofia and Aaron had fought so hard to maintain.

"What do you mean, you don't know –" I was cut short by the door going open, and Sofia stepping. Oh please, not now. "Those old, dirty-looking books?" She asked with a smirk. "I got rid of them. I didn't see the need for them. I almost got rid of your novels too, but I couldn't because I love novels too. I guess that's the only thing we both have in common." I slowly straightened up, praying I heard wrongly. "You did what?" "I got rid of them,” She repeated. “They were looking so large and medieval. You weren't coming back anyway, so I thought –"

It was a space designed purely for quiet study, and reverence. “These two shelves here are all about the mate bond,” Thefros said, gesturing toward a pair of bookcases halfway down the room. “Lore, case studies, theory. Everything we’ve managed to preserve.” I nodded, pulling down five books at random and settling at the table under the nearest lamp. Thefros took a seat opposite, already flipping through his own selection with practiced ease. The pages felt heavy in my hands, textured like something handmade. These books hadn’t touched a printer, some were written in fading ink, others illuminated with strange symbols or brutal sketches. One book was nothing but badly rhymed poetry pretendin