Hija De Don Cangrejo Novels & Stories

She gave me a slow, disgusted once-over. "And you? Even worse. Couldn't even hold onto your baby. His mother's been pushing him to drop you—she's hated you for years. Why do you think I'm here tonight? Because he and his Family already picked me." My ears were ringing. Three years ago, a crash stole the baby I was four months along with. Leon and I both mourned—but how the hell did she know? She leaned in, reeking of something sweet and sick. "Only I'm fit to be the wife of the strongest Don. I'm the one who'll give him the real heir. Be smart, back off. Don't make me shove."

He didn't say anything but laughed. I didn't understand what's the meaning of hija. So I take out my phone from ny pockets and googled it. It is showing that hija means daughter in Spanish. I smiled at the word and the affection Henry gave me in a short span of time. " What are you cooking Henry, can I help you with anything " I asked Henry. " No, hija, Alexander doesn't like you to cook here, go and sit on the dining table, I'll serve delicious food " Henry said.

Bianca began, but Reina interrupted her uninterested, with a bored expression. “Save your breath. I'm not stupid like you; I came to let you know I'm here to reclaim everything you stole from me.” “I'm Don Santiago's daughter too. I also have the right to his fortunes!” Bianca said confidently, but Reina laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Few years ago, I visited Dominican Republic for work but one thing led to another, I had a one night stand with a woman.” My heart was beating so fast, I could swear that they could all here it. Where is this conversation leading to… He continued. “Not thinking much of it, I left and found out years later that she had gotten pregnant and I had a daughter.” I choked up with sudden emotions as I shook my head frantically and took some steps back, this can’t be what I’m thinking right now. “You’re not Yanna Wilson but Yanna Bernadi.” He spoke firmly My lips trembled and tears stung my eyes. “N-no…” I whispered.

So guess, what sort of music does Cristine enjoy? A/N: Hija - spanish word meaning “daughter” P**a - a tagalog word meaning “whore” - it’s a bad word. (DON’T USE IT!) WARNING! DON’T DRIVE WITHOUT A DRIVER’S LICENSE. End of text.

so cute that I would always like to see them, close to mine. 一Hillary, she is two years old, but she is my daughter and... I don't want to get married, if it were up to me I take you and her away from here, so that we would be happy the three of us caressed my cheek. So that the three of us are happy. That sounds cute and impossible. The girl has to be with her mother. 一You can't take the girl away from her real mother... Not from her father, the three of you are a family, you didn't dress kiss me, that's betrayal of her一I raised my voice a little. Yes, it is treason, he is deceiving her with me. Oh, God, how bad I feel. 一 Estefanía is not interested in Hillary, she only uses her to hold me

They didn’t expect to see him like that. “MI UNICO HIJO!” she screams at them as she hugs Angelito, but the Don is in pain. “Abuelo (Grandfather),” he calls Don Pedro, and his grandfather thumps his crane on the tile. “IMPERDONABLE! (Unforgivable!),” his voice echoes all over the mansion. Denver bows at them, afraid and shaking. “G-Good morning….” His fear sank when Donya Lilia pats his head while going back to his husband.

The thread wrote it in the ash, the letters glowing like embers: ELENA VASQUEZ: THE HEART THAT REFUSED TO BREAK. My breath hitched. The alley shivered. The rubble became La Isla Dorada, the night it burned, the air thick with smoke and sizzle, the scent of arroz con gandules and mofongo curling like a memory I couldn’t hold. Javier was there, alive, his laugh booming as he flipped mofongo on the grill, his eyes crinkling at me; five years old, clinging to his leg. “Mija, you’ll run this place one day,” he said, ruffling my hair. But his hand was wrong, fingers too long, nails red. The thread smiled with his mouth.

I tried to speak, but I couldn’t. Mama pulled me into a hug. She looked past me. “Whose car is that?” Mama asked. “My husbands’ car.” “Husband mi hija. Your only twenty-one and you are married. Did you marry some gringo Americano? Is he a drug dealer? Some stupid Americano has soiled my daughter.” “Mama, I didn’t marry an Americano. I married a Mexicano. And he’s nothing like Don Ricardo.” Mama stared into the car to see who was in it.

She wants to laugh sarcastically about how faith does work, but she needs to restrain herself because she doesn’t want them to see that she was affected. She was back in her senses when she heard Mr. Mojica say, "I want you to meet Adrianna Claire Herrera, Zeus Gabriel Herrera's wife." Mr. Mojica says, motioning with his hand to Claire, his daughter. "And this is my lovely wife, Maria Felice Mojica." She sees that Mr. Mojica is happy and so is her mother, which irritates her. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Mrs. Herrera and Mrs. Mojica." She wants to roll her eyes while saying those words.