Is There An Audiobook For They Chose Her, The Tycoon Chose Me?

On the night my family got wiped out, someone had hidden me behind the barrels inside the wine cellar. The gunshots kept going off the entire night outside the cellar. I could only curl up between the barrels while listening to unfamiliar voices cursing in Etarino. All I could do was gnash my teeth together in order to not make any sounds. At the break of dawn, the wine cellar's door was opened from the outside. Two people could be seen standing in front of the pouring light. The first person was Antonio Corleone, a 15-year-old teenager who was also the oldest son of the Corleone family. He was still holding a gun, which had smoke wafting from its barrel. The second person was Matteo Corleone, Antonio's younger brother. His clothes were stained with blood that didn't belong to him. Antonio crouched down before draping a coat over my body. "Don't be scared, Elena," he said. "From today onward, I'm your family." Matteo squeezed Antonio away before stuffing a warm slice of panettone into my hands. With red-rimmed eyes, he said, "My brother is right. I'll kill whoever has the guts to hurt you." It was Christmas Day of 1999. Back then, I was ten years old. For the next 20 years, I grew up in the estate located in Vosaro and became an essential part of the Corleone family. At the same time, I also grew up to be the woman both Antonio and Matteo have a crush on. The entire family has noticed their obsession and love for me. Antonio and Matteo help me exact vengeance on the people who killed my family. They even buy a football team and name it after me. Everyone thinks that the brothers are head over heels in love with me. They patiently wait for the news when one of them will marry me. Even I also think the same. But on the night before my 30th birthday, when Don Corleone asks the brothers who among them wishes to marry me, Antonio snuffs out the cigar in a crystal ashtray. "Father, you should know that I'm terribly busy with the family's affairs, so I have no time to marry anyone." Matteo swirls the whiskey in his glass while wearing a flippant smile. "Father, I'm only 33 years old, and I'm not done having fun just yet. Besides, marrying Elena is just a joking promise that I've made when I was young. I'm not going to follow through with it." The next day, the brothers decide to propose to my enemy's daughter, Sophia Volpe, at my birthday banquet which I have painstakingly prepared. They even force me to drink the entire bottle of grappa despite the fact that I've been suffering from stomach issues for ten years just to please Sophia. When I get carted into the ambulance after suffering from stomach bleeding, Antonio and Matteo immediately cover Sophia's eyes with their hands while claiming that I'm just faking my illness. The moment I feel blood rising from my throat, I've made up my mind. On the day I'm set to get discharged, I dial a phone number. "I will get married to the heir of the Rossi family."

My husband makes me quit my job to care for his deceased friend's wife after she's given birth. Yet, she deliberately breastfeeds to his face. He can't take his eyes off her, yet he has the nerve to call me petty. He even says I'm asking for trouble. Later, I get a divorce and sell the house. I return to my hometown and make it big there. That's when he begs me to take him back.

I accidentally come across a post made by my mom's smurf account on the Internet. "Is it too cheap for me to prepare just a set of gold bars as a coming-of-age gift for my daughter?" My heart skips a beat. My parents are known for being extremely stingy. To think that they are willing to spend this much on me! I'm worried that my parents might overwork themselves just to prepare such a lucrative gift, so I take a screenshot and save the link to a three-year vacation tour that's priced at 999 dollars. Then, I decide to respond to the post as an anonymous user. "Your daughter will feel very happy as long as she receives her parents' love. No materialistic gift can ever outshine that." Five minutes later, Mom responds to me, "Thank you for your suggestion, but I've already taken my darling on a graduation trip in Enora last week. She had so much fun there."

In my past life, I was the only daughter of the Gambino family in New York. I had power, wealth, respect. But I lost it all because of Lucas, my husband. He brought Isabella, the widow of his fallen brother, into our home without even asking me. I threw a fit, made a scene, and gave everyone exactly the story they wanted: the spoiled Gambino princess had finally gone mad. Lucas filed for divorce soon after. I did not beg him to stay. I was Leo Gambino's daughter. I would rather break my own teeth than plead with a man who had already chosen another woman. But pride did not save me. Soon after, our family fell apart. Enemies moved in, my father was killed, and I ended up starving on the streets of New York. Lucas, however, climbed to the top using our family's influence and became the new don of New York. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Lucas first brought Isabella home.

His precious childhood sweetheart got drunk one night and ended up in a stranger’s bed. When she showed up again, she was pregnant—just like me. On the day I gave birth, Harold handed me the divorce papers. "Rachel’s about to return to acting," he said coldly. "She and the baby need a proper title. If a scandal breaks out, it’ll destroy her." Dragging my frail body, I calmly signed the papers. In my previous life, I refused to step aside. I went live, holding my daughter, and exposed the award-winning actress Rachel Underwood for knowingly becoming the other woman. The internet turned on her. She lost every endorsement and was driven to the edge by massive fines—eventually jumping off a building. Harold quietly took care of her funeral... and then stood by as her fans harassed me in the streets, even tried to burn my child and me alive. It was not until I saw him lock the door behind us that I realized—he had wanted us dead all along. Then I woke up. And it was the day he gave me the divorce agreement... again.

When my dad died, my husband was at the airport—picking up another girl. She looked like me. Only difference? He actually loved her. I was just the stand-in. Three years of marriage? It cost me my dad... and every last shred of self-respect. But at least I finally saw him for who he was. I left the country in a soaked dress. That's when it hit him—what it really meant to lose. "Emily, I was wrong!" "Daniel Wilson, it's too late." Stand-ins don't get love. They get a new beginning.