Novels by PRINZY N

Jacob scoffed so loudly it echoed through the entire room. The sound was mocking, theatrical. He leaned back on his chair, arms spread across its back like he owned the place. “Come on,” he said, his eyes darting around the room for validation, “you don’t expect us to believe that is a real Class 3X bag, do you?”Everyone’s attention shifted back to Max, who stood quietly beside Trisha, holding the now-unwrapped bag. The lights gleamed against its metallic accents, but the room was caught in a strange silence, waiting for someone else to say something.“Let’s be real,” Jacob continued, standing up this time, feeding off the silent tension. “You can get a fake copy for what—ninety bucks? Maybe less if you know the right streets.”Low laughter trickled around the hall.Max didn’t move. His eyes stayed low. The rain had stopped, but the wetness on his shoulders had soaked into the air around him.Trisha stepped forward. “Jacob, shut up.”It was sharp. Everyone turned toward her now.“I d

Trisha’s heels tapped nervously against the marble floor. The party was in full swing, glittering lights reflecting off champagne flutes, laughter bouncing across the tastefully decorated event hall—but her mind was elsewhere.She stared down at her phone for the fifteenth time in ten minutes.No reply.No call.No Max.She frowned and dropped the phone on the table beside her. The anxiety clawed at her chest. Max wasn’t just a friend. He was different—sincere, pure, and honest in a way most people weren’t. She had expected him to be there early, maybe even waiting for her at the door with one of those shy smiles and a gift wrapped in paper too modest for the grand venue.Instead, she was met with silence.“Sarah,” she called. “Have you seen Max?”Sarah, dressed in a midnight blue gown, shook her head. “Not since class this morning.”“Roland?”Roland looked up from his seat, a glass of orange juice in hand. “Nope. Nothing.”Trisha sighed and adjusted the sash of her peach-colored gown

Andrew emerged from the deputy manager’s office, grinning with pride. The deputy had promised him that the contract was as good as signed. With the change in Apex Imperium’s management, Andrew had seen an opening to squeeze his way in. He believed his charm and the deputy manager’s loyalty had secured his deal.“The new CEO signs it this morning,” the deputy had said. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s your contract—no one else’s.”Andrew strutted out of the office like he owned the building. He didn’t notice that, a few floors above, someone else was finalizing more significant documents than a mere contract. Max, still slightly rattled from his earlier encounter with the guards, was seated inside the manager’s office, pen in hand. His signature flowed across the pages: contract after contract, deal after deal. He was now officially the CEO of Apex Imperium, inheriting the Luckey family’s empire in full swing.Dorothy, the general manager, sat across from him with a professional smile

The night breeze rustled lightly against the fabric of Trisha’s dress as the group strolled toward Sarah’s car. Their laughter still echoed faintly from the events inside the club, especially from the sight of Arnold—once the uncontested peacock of the campus—reduced to a janitor wielding a mop in shame. Trisha had even joked that someone should paint the scene and auction it off as a symbol of poetic justice.As they neared the car, Trisha’s phone vibrated. She instinctively pulled it out of her designer clutch, still riding the wave of amusement from the night. But the moment her eyes scanned the screen, the laughter died in her throat. Her expression soured.Sarah immediately noticed. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice lined with concern.Trisha swallowed, holding up the phone for them to see. “It’s the Fashion Class 3X bag,” she said in a low voice. “It’s... gone. Out of stock.”Max, Roland, and Sarah looked at each other, puzzled.“Out of stock?” Sarah echoed. “But I thought yo

The moment Max’s voice cut through the music and murmurs, it was as though the entire club paused. Arnold slowly turned to face him, his eyes squinting in disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite process what had just been said.“What did you just say?” Arnold asked, stepping forward. His voice was calm, but his face betrayed his rising fury. Red crept up his neck and into his cheeks like boiling water.Max didn’t flinch. “I said it’s never going to happen.”The audacity of the statement sent a wave of gasps through the room. Even the DJ momentarily lowered the volume. All eyes were now on the two men—one, a self-declared king of the club, the other, a boy who had just spat in the face of that kingdom.Arnold’s jaw twitched. “Who the hell do you think you are?” he barked, his voice rising, teeth clenched.He turned to the rest of the room, arms outstretched. “Look at this fool,” he said with a twisted grin, trying to save face. “This nobody dares challenge me? ME?”He turned sharply bac

The atmosphere in the restaurant was unnervingly quiet, so much so that it felt like no one else existed within its polished walls. The soft hum of ambient jazz from the ceiling speakers barely registered; even the waitstaff moved silently, gliding past with practiced grace as though trying not to disturb a funeral.At a round table tucked into a dimly lit corner, four students sat in heavy silence.Sarah and Trisha exchanged panicked glances, their hands clutching their phones like lifelines. Each glance at the screen reminded them how little time they had left—just two hours. That was all it would take for their entire world to fall apart. Everything they had built—status, friends, power—would be gone. With one phone call, Arnold Brick could dismantle their family influence like it was nothing but a sandcastle before the tide.“I can’t believe it’s come to this,” Sarah said quietly, her voice shaking. “Two hours, Trish. That’s all we have.”Trisha nodded, biting her lip. “He’s reall