Italian Audiobook Novels & Stories

“This is exciting. Life’s too short for boring things.” I couldn’t help smiling and leaned forward. “Tell me something in Italian.” I said. He paused, as if thinking for a moment. Then his eyes softened, and darkened. “Il tuo sorriso è bellissimo… profumi di paradiso… e il tuo sapore mi fa impazzire.” The low timbre of his voice, and the way the syllables rolled from his tongue, sent a shiver across my skin. I blinked, my pulse quickening. “What does that mean?”

I just need a place to hide. The leather chair creaks as I sink into it with a random book in my lap. The pages are a mush of words. I'm desperately trying to stop the sting I still feel from the way Dante treated me. After a few minutes,.I don't know how long, voices break into the room. I look up from the book, these voices all sound feminine and layered together. The book slips a little in my hands. I tilt my head, listening. But i don't understand anything since it's all in Italian.

*Alberto’s POV* I was leaning against my Maserati, scrolling through my phone, when I heard the clicking sound of heels. I was nervous just looking up. My angel was my fūcking weakness and I knew I would be lost with just one look. “Sono pronto per il mio viaggio, Padrino.” (Italian for “I am ready for my ride, Padrino.”) She said in a soft voice that instantly made me hard. Did a reverse viagra exist because, damn it, I needed it.

He chuckled, putting his hands in his pockets. “Benvenuta in Italia, Aurora,” came his reply. His accent was deep and smooth, and I felt the shiver down my spine. Damn! Why did that sound so sexy.

the voice from the other line says, with a heavy Italian accent, similar to Marcellos, "Wait what? Why? I didn't even do anything," "No you didn't brother," she said in a sarcastic tone, "Mi hai messo su? la mia vita è più in pericolo ora idiota." ( You put me up? my life is in more danger now idiot!)

So he’s an Italian, huh? Giordano nodded, “Like what you’ve said... Still the same. Europe is in my control.” Adam stood up. He went to where the alcohol is while I am just wandering around, fascinated with unique books and literature. My eyes went on the specific. It was called The Doctor by Nikki Sloane. I arched my eyebrows, thinking the owner of this book is probably reading Nikki Sloane’s story. “When are you going back to Italy?”

We’d start with his manners and end with his compassion. “Prego,” Luciano answered him. I pulled my phone out and instantly downloaded Rosetta Stone. There was no chance in hell I would ever not understand what my son was saying. “Get me one too,” Ella muttered under her breath, her eyes on my phone. I nodded, and once I purchased for both of us, I started the d******d process. I would learn perfect Italian, if it was the last thing that I did.

“Italian. Engineering department. His name is Luca.” The normalcy of it—of l gossip, of boy talk, of something that wasn’t about my mess, felt like oxygen after drowning. “Italian?” I settled back against her pillows, pulling my knees to my chest. “Tell me everything.” “He has this accent, Rhea.” Elora’s eyes went wide and dreamy. “I swear I could listen to him read a phone book and I’d be into it. He asked me to coffee last week and I said yes before my brain even processed the question.”

The deep masculine voice says from the call end. "Hello Pablo." He says with a slight grin on his face. *NOTE: The Italian language would be interpreted into English, in brackets.* "I received your offer and Lo adoro (I love it)." William smiles, "I'm glad you do, so do we have a deal?" "Of course we do. Considerami il tuo compagno di vita (Consider me your life partner.) William chuckles, "Thank you Pablo. Tu fai la tua parte e io farò la mia.(You just do your part, and I’ll do mine.)"

Only smelled old woodsy smell and nothing gross like rotten flesh or skin. And so I flip it open. I blink once, twice at the words written on the first page. “What is this?” I flip through the book seeing more of the same gibberish writing. “Niko…” I hold the book out to him flopping down on the couch beside him. Looking away from his computer, he takes it from me, his eyes smiling as he pops it open between two fingers and reads the words out loud. “Le regole della famiglia.” “It’s written in Italian?” I blink at him.