Pocket Fm Audiobook Novels & Stories

I had funded Tilly Jenkins for five years—and spent those same five years chasing after her. Just when I thought I had finally won her heart—when I believed she was ready to spend her life with me—I discovered the truth: the one she had loved all along was her childhood sweetheart, the boy who had grown up by her side. I, on the other hand, to her, was nothing more than a privileged elite who used money to grind her pride into the dirt. A few years into our marriage, she secretly transferred my assets away—and even had a child with that childhood sweetheart of hers. In the end, I died filled with resentment, trapped in a raging fire. The flames reflected the sight of the three of them together, smiling like a perfect family, while I cried myself to death in despair. After I was reborn, Tilly's childhood sweetheart shoved me hard, sneering with open contempt. "What do you take us for? Toys for rich people like you?!" I slipped my bank card back into my pocket at once. "Sorry, having money doesn't mean I'm brain-dead. I'm not interested in trashy toys like that."

I help my students gain admission to top state art academies, yet my boss, Sebastian Emerson, withholds every cent of the pay I earned from 24 consecutive days of overtime. When I confront him in anger, he accuses me of stealing 120 thousand dollars in training fees from the students. "Honestly, being poor is no excuse for being shady. And having disabled parents doesn't give you the right to steal. "You've got two days to pay it back! Otherwise, I'll make sure you spend a few nights in jail, and I'll even inform your parents!" When a student calls, he snatches the phone and starts screaming, "There's no money! All your tuition went into buying your art supplies! If you've got a problem, go ahead and sue me, brat!" Meanwhile, Jayla Buckley, who is curled up in his arms, keeps placing order after order of Chaennal haute couture without the slightest hesitation. Watching the two of them colluding so shamelessly, I grip my attorney license in my pocket until my knuckles ache. Take it to court? Litigation? That's my arena. And I'll make sure both of them end up exactly where they belong—behind bars.

On my mother’s seventieth birthday party, I ran around handling various matters, paying out of pocket and putting in all the work. I did not even have the time to sit down and drink a sip of water. When I finally found the time to surprise her, I prepared eighty-eight grams of gold jewelry as her gift. Just as I was about to give it to her, I heard her talking to the other relatives. “See that? My daughter is truly my sweetheart. She woke up so early this morning to bake me this cake. I wouldn’t trade this cake for gold.” Our relatives immediately began praising my younger sister, Jessie Radley, for being so devoted. Only a couple of them pushed back. “Why aren’t you praising your eldest daughter, Mary? I heard she handled the entire birthday party.” “Tch. She only knows how to muddle through things. None of it had been done to my liking. Jessie is the good one. She got up at seven in the morning just to bake me this cake.” I turned around and walked away from the doorway. Since she loved Jessie so much, she could pay for this birthday party, worth eighty thousand dollars.

"Sign here, I have the divorce papers." Areiza Kensley had just walked in the door when Darren Venzor, her husband, handed her the divorce papers. Areiza felt an unbearable pain in her heart. Still, she tried her best to keep a straight face. She didn't want to look weak in front of this man... Areiza quickly took the paper and fished the pen out of her pocket, but Darren snatched it away. He frowned, "Aren't you going to read the agreement?" Areiza pursed her lips and replied, "No need, I know you must have everything ready for me even if I don't need it." Darren nodded. "That's right, this house is yours as well, including your mother's medical bills, which I'll continue to pay in the future, and I'll make sure you live without any burdens." How thoughtful, Areiza thought sarcastically. She grabbed the paper again and signed it forcefully. Areiza thought that once she signed the divorce papers, she would be able to start her new life without the man Darren Venzor interfering in her life... However... Did Areiza and Darren really go their separate ways after the divorce or... There is something waiting for her...

I'm a nationally certified animal trainer running the Lion King, Caesar's final assessment. I've barely stepped into the enclosure corridor when the steel guillotine door slams down behind me. My wife's laughter crackles over the loudspeaker. "Everyone, we're doing the ultimate challenge today! We're locking the so-called number-one animal trainer in the Lion King's enclosure and taking bets on whether he wets himself in ten minutes!" Caesar crouches low and rumbles a warning. I reach for my tranquilizer gun but stop cold. The liquid isn't the right color. In a phony sing-song voice, the veterinarian, Hugh Archer, says, "Lucian, I forgot to mention, I swapped your tranquilizer darts for pepper spray so you won't hurt Caesar by mistake. "You two are so close. Just win him over with love!" I look at Caesar, his eyes bloodshot from the stimulant, and it clicks. Hugh still resents that I stopped him from touching a tiger with his bare hands a few days ago. I tune out the trash blaring over the loudspeaker, pull a remote from my pocket, and hit the button. It's the master switch for the electric fence gates around every predator enclosure in the zoo. If I don't make it out, no one does.

At the Iron Moon pack's victory party, celebrating the defeat of our sworn enemy, an Omega named Sienna accused me. The charge? Embezzling five million dollars from the pack's treasury. She spoke with self-righteous fury. "Are we really going to let a selfish thief continue as our Head Beta? I propose we strip her of her title immediately and exile her!" I stared at Caleb. The Alpha of the Iron Moon pack. The man I had loved for ten years. He should know better. Those funds were paid out of my own pocket years ago when the pack was broke but desperate for weapons and territory expansion. Now that the pack's treasury was overflowing, I was simply taking back what was mine. Yet the man who had held my hand just days ago, promising to officially make me his mate-to-be, now glared at me. "What do you have to say about Sienna's accusation of stealing pack funds?" I curled my lips into a smirk. "I have nothing to explain." They really thought I was some easy pushover. But they didn't know I was the only daughter of Magnus, the Alpha King of all North American packs. If they wanted to mess with me, they better be ready to be torn to shreds.

"Buzz… Buzz…" Alexia's cell phone vibrated as she sniffed then reached out for her phone which was in her side pocket and when she took it out she realized it was an unknown number. She furrowed her eyebrows. "Who in the world is this?" she soliloquized then swiped her thumb across the screen taking the phone to her left ear. "Hello… am I speaking with Alexia Chaney?" A deep male voice came through the phone as Alexia sat upright. "Yes, this Is Alexia Chaney," She clears her throat. "I heard you can play the guitar and I hope you will like a day's job, you will be paid handsomely for it. Are you interested?" said the man again over the phone as Alexia blinked. "Okay, I am interested. What is the occasion and venue?" She asked. "SBE wine corporation will be launching a new wine tomorrow alongside the birthday celebration of the CEO, Richard Robertson, and there will be a night party at his Estate," The man said as Alexia's eyes popped wide open and she parted her lips. She couldn't believe she just accepted an invitation to perform for a man who just wrecked her show. "I will text you the address, first thing in the morning. Get prepared because it is a big party and Richard loves something exceptional," said the man as he hung up.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

War. War is all we know. War for peace, war to take, war to protect. War for resources. It is impossible to avoid war because your neighbors won’t. If you are perceived as weak, you will be targeted. Your land and wealth stolen, your people killed, sons enslaved and daughters raped. To survive in this world, more important than oxygen; is strength and a cold heart. The only source of strength are mana veins. He who owns mana veins has the right to live and the right to rule. He who owns mana veins better have the strength to keep it or long life is but a pipe dream. Xasha hated war. War had taken everything from him and gave nothing in return. He hated that all wars were over petty things like pride and pocket change. He always looked to the vast wilderness with longing. He wondered why all the warmongers hadn’t turned their spears there. Where vast lands and untapped wealth were. Once he became a father. Xasha, the naïve, knowledge-loving merchant, decided he did not want his child growing up in the same world he did. He decided to change the world, end all war and unite the abandoned region. How will he do it? By starting a war, a war that will end all wars. Not a war with his neighbors over pride or a few mana veins. No. He will rage against the wilderness and the world beyond.