Stolen Focus Audiobook Novels & Stories

Bukas pa ang gate pero agad akong hinarangan ng guard. “Sir, bawal na pong pumasok. Magsasara na kami.” “Sandali lang ako, sir. May titingnan lang ako.” “Bukas niyo na po tingnan.” “Sir, sandali lang po talaga. May naiwan pang estudyante sa loob.” “Umikot na po kami, sir. Nakauwi na po lahat ng estudyante.” Binasa ko ang labi ko. Nakalimutan ko ‘yong eksaktong lugar na binanggit no’ng magkakaibigan kanina. Nilingon ko sila sa café pero biglang wala na sila doon.

’ ‘So do I. Smiling, Rachel picked up the cup of beer and took a drink of the gold liquid. Her gaze never wavering, her eyes deepened from silver to pewter. Was it a challenge he saw, or an invitation? He didn’t need either, but, God help him, after his encounter with Sandra he was tempted to accept both. A breeze stirred the shadows of her black hair about her face and shoulders, making her seem more fantasy than reality. What was this woman doing to him, and why couldn’t he stop it? She was his only suspect in a string of thefts that could be the ruin of him. No matter what he felt, or what he wanted, he had to focus on clearing the stain on his business and his name. He picked up a butter

Inside its palm. there was an eye. Not human. Not animal. An eye made entirely of moving letters. Every symbol inside it continuously rearranged itself into forgotten languages. The moment the eye looked at Adrian... his heartbeat stopped. A voice entered his mind. Not through sound. Through thought. AUTHOR... RETURN WHAT WAS STOLEN. Adrian staggered. "I didn't steal anything." The voice answered immediately. YOU STOLE THE RIGHT TO CHOOSE. The dark Adrian lowered his head. "So..."

"I sat right next to her on that leather bench. I felt her thumb brush the back of my neck, and my brain registered the touch as my wife’s profile because I was too stupidly, blindly focused on the midtown financial audits to look past the face. I didn't see the theft because the duplicate was convenient for my schedule." He dropped his head, his forehead coming down to rest against the hard wood of the table edge, right next to the white-knuckle grip of his fists. A low, ragged scrape of air tore out of his throat—a violent, guttural sound that shook his entire chest cavity and rattled the silver pen hanging from her notebook strap.

It was the price of a judge's silence while my mother was left to raise me alone in a crumbling apartment with peeling lead paint. "This isn't just a ledger," I whisper, the realization tasting like copper. "It's a receipt for stolen futures. Every dollar listed here is a family destroyed so Hale could build his empire." I straighten my spine. "We filter the list. We remove the ambiguous entries, the people who were tricked. We keep the ones who knew exactly who they were hurting." We work together. Filtering. Sorting. Auditing. Entry by entry. Name by name. There is a strange intimacy to the audit. The synchronization of our movements. His breath on my neck as he leans in to check a date. M

"A manager, Perkins. He’s skimming off the shipping contracts. I’ve traced the routing numbers. Father... he’s stealing millions right under Sebastian’s nose." "Send it to me," Gerald commanded instantly. The grandfatherly tone was gone, replaced by the shark. I hit send. "Sent." I waited. The silence on the line was agonizing. I could hear him clicking his mouse, opening the file, scanning the numbers. One minute. Two minutes. "Damn it," Gerald muttered. "It’s right there. How did Audit miss this?" "They’re distracted," I said softly, planting the seed. "Sebastian is... distracted. With the marriage. With the publicity. I just wanted to make sure the foundation remained strong."

His eyes were dark, focused, reflecting the gravity of the situation. Sylvia hesitated for a moment, her gaze distant as if sifting through memories she’d rather not recall. When she finally spoke, her voice was somber, tinged with a hint of regret. “The Book of Enchantments,” she revealed, the words hanging heavy in the air. “Mia stole it.”

She must have made everyone believe that I am a thief and I stole her money. “What are y'all looking at, huh?!” I snapped at the faces that kept on staring. They turned, minding their business since I yelled. I scurried to the bin and trashed it down there. Then went back into class. This time, I checked the chair for any glue, inspected the floor and chair and sat pathetically. But I didn't feel comfortable. Everyone kept staring, whispering. Calling me a thief. Sloane didn't even look in my direction, she was busy with her friends. But I couldn't handle it. I felt nervous, sick, and I couldn't bear the accusatory eyes. I stood up, grabbed my bag and stormed out of class. Heading for the nu

On my tenth birthday, my parents, the Don of the Falcone family and his wife, were murdered in a targeted hit. Because they took a sudden detour to pick up my custom birthday gift, they drove right into a rival syndicate's fatal ambush. My brother, Vincenzo, blamed my childish demands for their deaths. When Vincenzo took over as the new Don, his first act was to banish me to a remote convent to do hard labor. For eight whole years, he never visited me once. When I died on the operating table in the family hospital, he was standing guard right next door. He was watching his adopted sister, Lucia, get a heart transplant. He had saved her from a street shootout years ago. Just before I

Darien asked, his voice gentle but hastily. Lewis hesitated for a while before answeringthe question. "We've discovered a hidden journal belonging to Audrey," he revealed. My heart skipped a beat. "What's in it?" I asked quickly even before Darien could say anything. Lewis's eyes fixed on both me and darien, "Audrey's planning on working with a rogue faction," he said. Darien's grip on my hand tightened at the sound of those words from Lewis. “What exactly is her goal?" he demanded.