Novelas y relatos de Breadwinner

Thus to distract himself he strode to his mini bar and made himself a drink. His thoughts took him back to the memories of past month when he stepped in this hometown of his parents. Adam Richardson was successful Businessman, have taken the reins of Richardson’s business at the tender age of 19. In those 11 years of life he had taken Richardson’s business to the new heights where no one will think to follow even. It was his sheer hard work and dedication that had brought him this up in the ladder of success. In this span of time he only frequently visited the town. But today he was returning after good 4 years...that too for some business deal...

I was very young at that time . I started minion jobs at age 15,I couldn't watch my parents starve for me ,I wasn't opportuned to go to school but I am working towards it ,when things are stable I will go back to school ,but for now I buy little books to help myself and my dad also helps me too .

I am now a full-fledged young woman. "I'll give you a gift if you keep yourself clean and pure..." I laughed at what he said. How many times have I heard from him since I made up my mind? Pure and pure... "You raised me right. I will never flirt with any man." I smiled at Grandma who was relieved. Our life was simple. We were not rich with expensive cars, not a stockholder of a huge company, not an owner of an exclusive school, not a daughter of a well-known business tycoons, and not even spoiled brats with luxurious collections of bags, shoes, and dresses.

I asked sheepishly. He chuckled. "I'm Evan Montgomery. I'm Kendra's cousin." "I'm, Sarai Navarro." "Ah, are your parents the owner of the Navarro Bakery?" "Yes, best bakery ever." I giggled. "My family is crazy about that bakery." He smiled as I did too. "What happened last night?" "My cousin told me that, they drugged you. You ran away cause something happened and then you bumped into me." He told me. Tears fell down my cheeks. "I don't understand why people enjoy hurting me."

ARC "You've been staring at the table for a while now." He gave a grunt and pushed a boiled broccoli around his plate with a fork. "You don't like the food?" They couldn't afford more groceries since his pay had been cut again by his boss, Bill and all because he was lagging behind, a reason he knew was absolutely cruddy. Although the food tasted alright enough since Penelope was a good enough cook. And it wasn't his reduced wages that bothered him. "You're in a mood."

I dished it out and one taste, I knew that Smith would have loved the food so much. I decided I would leave some for him in the refrigerator so he could get to taste this heavenly food tomorrow. I was scrolling through my phone when I stumbled on a news article. “Former business tycoon, Smith Clifford loses all business investors and is on his way to bankruptcy.” It was heartbreaking to read the mean things the bloggers said about Smith. Most times, I wondered how they got their information and how they planned to keep going with their lies. Everything was currently hurting Smith and I felt so much pity for him. I wanted to help but I didn't know what to do to help my dear husband who was su

"Not quite. It's a contract, Miss Moore. One that requires a certain…leap of faith." Leap of faith. The phrase echoed in the room, mirroring the precarious state of my bakery. With a deep breath, I took the envelope. "May I at least know what this is about?" I inquired, my voice barely above a whisper. He leaned against the doorframe, his gaze assessing. "Let's just say it's an opportunity. An opportunity to solve your financial woes and, well, mine." His words were cryptic, but the implication was clear: a mutually beneficial arrangement. But what kind of arrangement could a billionaire possibly need from a struggling baker like me?

"Sabiana!" A harsh voice startled me while I was scraping the last grains of rice from our container. It was strange, considering I had just bought rice yesterday, after working a side job at the Montebello mansion. I put up with Senorita Claudia's rough attitude just to put food on the table for my two younger siblings, but how bitter it is to have nothing to cook once again? How am I supposed to feed my siblings? Where did the rice go? Was it stolen? By whom? My salary is gone. Papa took the little money had saved for our basic needs, like the food we eat. I was hoping he wouldn't touch the food meant for my siblings, but here I am, left with barely a fourth of a cup of rice in our storage

Would I continue living in a broken marriage with Jonah, trapped in the same cycle of abuse and hopelessness? “I already told you,” I said, finding my voice again, “I don't think I can do it.” “Why not?” I scoffed lightly, the ridiculousness of the situation finally catching up to me. “Look at me, Mr. Whitaker. I’m a baker from a forgotten village. I spend my days covered in flour, earning just enough to survive. I’ve never owned a designer bag, I don’t know which fork is for salad, and I barely made it through community college.”

In the early days, I'd rise before dawn to source inventory, often standing at my stall until dusk without a single sale. Then I'd ridden the e-commerce boom, scaling up into a thriving business that lifted our family out of hardship. Andrea burrowed deeper into Fiona's arms. "Ease up on Claudia. She is the breadwinner of our family." Her words were like gasoline on Brent's macho pride, his face contorting as veins pulsed in his forehead. "Breadwinner? What's a few bucks from peddling rags gonna do?" he snorted. My eyes met Andrea's, and I caught the triumphant sparkle in them.