Machiavellianism, p.1
Machiavellianism, page 1
MACHIAVELLIANISM
BOOK TWO OF THE DARK TRIAD TRILOGY
VIOLA TEMPEST
VIOLA TEMPEST PUBLISHING
Machiavellianism
Book Two of The Dark Triad Trilogy
© Copyright 2024 Viola Tempest
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.
Cover Design by Ann Fleur Art
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
About the Author
Stalk her below!
PROLOGUE
Azazel remembered everything. The uprising, the pain of her wings being ripped from her body, and the sinking feeling in her stomach during the fall as she watched the Gates of Heaven grow smaller and smaller the further she fell.
She was once one of the Creator’s most beautiful and favored angels who wanted to advance mankind so there wouldn’t be a need to interfere like before. God saw this as subordination and ordered that the rebel angels be stripped of their wings so that when He slammed the Gates of Heaven to them, they wouldn’t be able to get back in.
Word quickly spread throughout the Kingdom of Heaven that He was coming for Azazel, her sisters, and the rest of the rebels. There was nowhere they could hide that God couldn’t find them. There was no weighing of truth or explanation; God wanted them gone. He showed that He wasn’t the all-loving God they had once thought He was. His true nature was unforgiving and controlling.
He wanted to keep the humans in the dark, stumbling for answers with only Him as a beacon of hope. With nowhere else to go, they fell to Earth, uncertain of how the humans would react to having divine beings walk amongst them consistently. They should have known that the humans would need to be molded into what the fallen needed them to be in order to survive.
The fallen spread out and concluded that they wanted different things for the humans, and decided to have a millennium-long wager over whose way was the more superior. When the time came, they would shift the world to the path that seemed to fit best for the advancement of humanity.
Azazel didn’t see her sisters much unless it was to check in on the progress of each world and compare the progress. She assumed it was because they were embarrassed that their methods weren’t working out as well as hers. Azazel had order, luxury, and yearly entertainment that the citizens of her kingdom talked about until the following grand selection.
She lived in paradise and was incredibly confident that her way was the only way the world could continue, and humans would have the best hope for survival. Plus, the humans adored her as an earth-bound goddess, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
The humans regularly brought her offerings and renewed their loyalty to satisfy her, hoping she would cancel the yearly Cunning. This event required a member from a selected family to come and fight to the death for riches beyond their wildest dreams. The family would be set up in a luxurious home. Their bank accounts would never be empty.
Over the years, six prominent families had acquired a majority of the wealth in the kingdom. They were able to buy their way out of participating in the Cunning. They were the closest resemblance to friends to Azazel, and took just as much pleasure in watching the event as Azazel did. They had been so successful that it’d been hundreds of years since any of their members had competed. Azazel took so much pleasure in having them close to her. They shared her same beliefs and were always a robust support system for directing the world.
The deaths of the defeated warriors would give Azazel the strength she needed to keep her world balanced. Every year, her subjects would give more extravagant gifts to keep their families intact. Still, Azazel thrived on the chaos that ensued.
After decades of being on Earth, she looked forward to the entertainment of the humans begging for their families. In the weeks leading up to the grand selection, citizens would line up for hours to bring her their most splendid offerings, hoping it would be enough. Her gluttonous nature made her insatiable; her kingdom could give her everything in their homes—even their children—and she would still want more.
And they always found a way to give her more. She was never worried about an uprising because she still cared for her kingdom. There was never a food shortage, and everyone had a home. Some were nicer than others, but not one person could complain that they never had enough.
This way of life made it easy for her to start her annual feast. When she first found the area that she took over, it was all lower-class communities. People were miserable, but every person rose in life under Azazel’s rule. The citizens became smarter because of the new skills she bestowed on them, wealthier because of the jobs she provided when building the kingdom into what it became, and devious because of the traits that she instilled in them to help them get everything their hearts could ever desire in life.
They realized that the source of their success was Azazel. They were easy to convince.
The Cunning started off with a simple show of who was better at specific archery, swordplay, or basic combat skills. Over the years, things had evolved to become the bloodbath that Azazel loved so dearly. She treated it like it was her birthday or a holiday that everyone should celebrate.
She was never affected by the sorrow many families felt. She knew that death balanced life, and death needed to occur if they wanted to keep their lives the way they were going. While there were rumors that she would eat the souls of the dead, this simply wasn’t the case. The soul’s essence was automatically attracted to her divinity when they died. It became one with her, giving her the sustenance she eventually needed to continue in the human world. She considered the lost souls safer with her than in Heaven.
As the years passed, Azazel became bored with the display. She eventually decided to create a new theme every year and announce it after the commonwealth funeral to allow potential contestants to train as much as possible before the following grand selection.
The wealthier families had their children training in various combat areas from a young age. Azazel became fond of the younger assassins in her kingdom, and put an age restriction on the selection so that she would never be faced with the sorrow of losing one of her small comrades. By the time they were ready to be chosen, the once young slayers had turned into impressive killing machines. She enjoyed watching them rise in the coliseum until there was only one left.
This had been going on for hundreds of years. Entire generations were lost to appease Azazel, but she was getting to a point where the Cunning was no longer bringing her as much joy. The lost warriors didn’t satisfy her as much. The kingdom could feel the air getting heavier as impending doom lingered.
1
Azazel looked into her full-length mirror, inspecting herself. The longer she looked, the more obsessed she became. Her long, rich midnight hair flowed around her shoulders. It came down just below her elbows. Her curvaceous body was always clothed in form-fitting gowns made of rich silks in pure white shades. Her jewelry could blind someone if they caught a glimpse of her at the wrong angle midday.
Leaning forward to inspect her expertly-applied makeup, she couldn’t help but get lost in her platinum gray eyes and long dark eyelashes. She smiled when she came to her daily realization of how beautiful she was, and how blessed her citizens were to have her as their leader.
She twirled and admired herself even further, loving how the skirt of her dress would slightly fan out and accentuate her curves. She knew how mesmerizing she was. When she faced the mirror again, she applied some gloss to her plump lips and was pleased with her final look for the day.
Walking out of her chamber, the atmosphere in her palace was electric with excitement. It was the morning of the grand selection, and she was looking forward to seeing the entertainment lineup for this year. She smiled at her servants as she passed them, ensuring that they were all doing their duties to keep the palace running smoothly.
Azazel didn’t want to start her day by disciplining her staff.
When she noticed one of her butlers moving slower than usual, she went up to him, curious as to what his problem that morning was.
“Cedric?” Azazel smiled sweetly. Cedric bowed profoundly, and she could see that he looked paler than usual. “Are you alright?” Cedric rose from his bow and tried to avoid eye contact with her as he replied. “Just fine, Goddess. I just didn’t sleep very well last night.”
Azazel
She noticed that he was quick to apologize and claimed he would move quicker going forward.
Cedric excused himself from her presence quickly and carried on, moving faster than before. Azazel stayed and watched him work for a short while until she was satisfied with his speed. She carried on to the Great Hall for her morning tea and breakfast. While she was there, she noticed nervous energy surrounding her, and she couldn’t shake it. Choosing instead to focus on the sweet figs and the comforting tea, wrapping herself in a blanket of reassurance. She knew that the excitement was covering up the fear that the kingdom felt this time of year.
It made her miss Heaven, in the sense that emotions like this weren’t felt, so they never interfered with anything that was taking place. Angels generally didn’t experience any feelings. They were simply expected to do as they were told without any questions.
It took Azazel and her sisters coming to spend time on Earth to gain any sort of human emotion. It took years for them to feel true happiness and sadness. Azazel hated feeling any kind of negative emotion and manipulated herself to never be obligated to handle any sort of negatively. She repelled any bad feeling, and the person standing closest to her would feel everything that Azazel refused to feel.
As she sat in silence, contemplating the events that were about to unfold, she was curious as to why there was a lingering nervousness in the air. It was almost irritating that they were still nervous after hundreds of years of the grand selection. The Cunning—she thought they would be more than accustomed to it by now. If they really understood how the sacrifice kept their world in balance, they would be celebrating for weeks on end after the final trial instead of mourning the fallen.
Besides, it’s not like the souls were lost in Heaven. They were still here, but they had fused with her on a molecular level, and she could still feel their love for her. It was something that she was going to have to address. She needed the energy to be positive and consistent throughout the entire process. It wasn’t as fulfilling if they were sad the whole time.
She decided to put a whispered rumor out through her most trusted rumor mongers. She would ensure that the kingdom would understand the weight of this event, and how they all reaped the benefits from the few sacrifices made—and only once a year at that.
Her brow furrowed at the thought of her kingdom thinking the worst of her. She only wanted them to see her as the giving leader she knew she was. If they knew how her hunger provoked her daily, and how hard she had to work to suppress her need for sustenance, they would burst from gratitude for her self-control. She felt her brow furrow at the thought of her urges and sighed, knowing that there was still a short wait before she would feel delighted.
The meals were only for show, so no one would be suspicious of her actual needs. Tapping her fingers on the table, Azazel mulled over the thought of having multiple Cunning events a year, and could feel her mouth salivate at the idea of being full continuously. She decided that maybe this year, it was time to bring the essence of truth into the Cunning, and possibly relieve the mourning families. They should feel honored that their loved ones are a part of her.
Azazel finished her tea and breakfast, and then walked through the halls discreetly, watching her staff as she passed. She knew that there was still time before the selection, but she couldn’t wait to see her citizens eager to see if they were chosen.
She went out onto the large balcony at the front of her palace, giving her a bird’s eye view of her entire kingdom. Azazel took a deep breath and was instantly refreshed from the morning air. There really was something so sacred about this day, and she refused to let there be any underlying negativity.
She decided that she would go down to the selection atrium to inject a bit of divinity to jumpstart the shift, and it would feel right again. She almost ran into her chambermaid, Sarika, and let out an irritated groan as she turned around.
“Sarika! Say something, or make a sound to declare yourself!” Azazel yelled frustratedly.
“I am so incredibly sorry, Goddess. You’re right; I should have made myself known.” Sarika stumbled through her apology, refusing to look up at Azazel. She bowed low. “I only came to let you know that the grand selection will be taking place soon—”
Azazel interrupted her briskly. “I am aware of the timing, Sarika. I was about to go to the atrium before you held me up with having to explain protocol.” Azazel walked past her servant, who rushed behind her to keep up. Azazel was taller than all of the humans she ruled, so keeping up with her long strides required a light run.
“Goddess, if I may,” Sarika started and waited for Azazel to acknowledge her. Azazel rolled her eyes and gestured for Sarika to continue. “Goddess, the families are here.”
Azazel stopped abruptly. “Why wouldn’t you start with that out on the balcony? Do I need to keep explaining to you how to do your job?” Azazel spat at her servant.
Sarika nodded. “They are in the reception hall waiting for you. They haven’t been here long.”
Azazel seethed. “They shouldn’t have been waiting at all, Sarika!” And she quickly turned toward the reception hall, excited to see her most loyal and devoted followers.
As Azazel got closer to them, she could feel herself start to radiate, and it was reflected in all of their faces as they all turned to bow and welcome her.
Azazel scanned the room and opened her arms wide. “Families, welcome!” She beamed at the wealthiest families in her kingdom. The Barem, Ankah, Jones, Li, Thompson, and Berith families all brought forward jewels, extravagant bouquets of flowers, and beautifully-scented body oils.
The fallen angel soaked in the delicious moment and was filled with bliss. She accepted the gifts graciously and blessed each member, ensuring that they would have another year of blessings and happiness.
The families had figured out a loophole in the selection process. Azazel realized this may have not been fair, but she didn’t care. The gifts they brought her and the loyalty they showed continuously made up for it all. They all did their part in the kingdom, so that other families could potentially be as successful as them. They taught different combat methods, stayed with mourning family members to ensure they were fine for as long as needed, and always had a hand available to help anyone who needed it. They were the models she was trying to mold the rest of the kingdom into.
The families were always as excited as she was for the great selection and Cunning. Even though they didn’t reap the same benefits, the families loved the entertainment.
Making her way through the crowd, she asked eligible members their future plans for marriage. The families only married each other to keep the advantages of their agreement going. Azazel liked to think that it was all because of her; these beautiful families had generations and generations of loved ones, and felt that the very least they could do was shower her with gifts and unwavering loyalty.
Antonio Barem, the current head of the Barem family, stepped forward and dipped low in a bow before stating, “You look absolutely radiant, Goddess.”
Azazel couldn’t help but be taken by Antonio. He was incredibly handsome with his piercing blue eyes, tanned skin, and the strand of deep blond hair that always found its way to cover one of his eyes. He was always well-dressed and had the best style she had ever seen when it came to men.
He presented her with a velvet case; she smiled and delicately took it from his hands. When she opened it, her breath was taken away. Inside was a strand of the finest diamonds she had ever seen. Antonio came up behind her and pulled the necklace out of the box to indicate that he would adorn her with it. Azazel turned and pulled her hair up to expose her neck so he could take off the necklace that she already had on.
