The Hawthorne Legacy Audiobook Novels & Stories

Hospitality industry taught people patience and tolerance. After thirty minutes of undirected conversation, the old man left the office. Ima sighed with a great relief. She endured listening to the uncoordinated topic from a stranger. The man seemed to have known her but from where she wasn’t sure. He spoke of things that she did not relate with though she liked the historical part of it.

“Everything doesn’t seem right,” Jasper muttered to himself. He was sitting on the floor of a small room in what had once been his home—a single room with no windows or furniture but for a bed and table that he'd found in the basement. The place smelled like mold and mildew, though it hadn't always. It smelled like life, until everything went wrong. He was cold and angry; the only happiness he could think of was that of Lyra’s.

I hope not though, till everything is sorted out I will not let her leave my sight. We soon arrived at the new company, it was a publishing company I opened this year just before I defeated and invaded the Fortress Lack with some of my trusted men. The spoils gotten from the fottress pack which comprised of their investments, resources, and all their accumulated savings belonged to the Whitefang Pack now to do as I wanted. Including their Pack members, Dad had already taken some part of the spoils.

“I have, yes. I went to the school here in my youth – Aspen Academy, as it was known then, but these things change over the years – and then I was offered my job here, as you know, and I’ve been tucked away in my little library ever since.” I moved in closer, pushing my hair out of my face. I looked up at Herb with doe-like eyes, and I fluttered my eyelashes for added impact. “Do you remember anything… strange, I suppose, happening? In Hawthorn, I mean.” “Quite a few strange things have happened here over the years,” he smiled, pushing his glasses up again. Up close, I could see a tiny, reddened indent from where he kept forcing them into the same groove. “Is there any particular time you’d

Waiting for me to fail. "I came back to Nightfall with the hope of finding my legitimate family after being treated like trash." The words tasted like ash. "I came back broken. Humiliated. Some of you saw me then, you saw how weak I was and lost." A woman in the front row nodded. Recognition in her eyes. "And you had every right to wonder if someone that broken could ever be strong enough to lead." The hall went quiet. So quiet I could hear my own heartbeat.

It was a secret not yet ready to be spoken aloud too many times, lest it lose its shape or turn against us. The Legacy Common Hall rose into view like a cathedral carved from ambition and fire. Gold-fluted pillars framed the entrance. A chandelier the size of a carriage loomed overhead, its crystal drops catching the warm light like the glint of watchful eyes. The moment we crossed the threshold, the air shifted. Heavier. Colder. Hungrier. This wasn’t just a place to study or socialize. This was the stage where legacies rehearsed their dominance. And there, beneath a cascade of amber light by the bay windows, sat Ingrid Marrow.

I already had my car, wallet and phone with me, along with my keys. All I had to do was jump in a plane and get the hell out of here. I looked around as my car slowed down even further. I had been driving mindlessly, and somehow ended up in the neighborhood where the Hawthorne house was located in. Suddenly, an unwise idea crossed my mind, and I just couldn’t let it go. So, I drove to Hawthorne Manor. The Hawthornes had abandoned their ancestral home and shifted their operation headquarters from Caveat City to New York. They called it the next step of their expansion, but experts would say that their slow decline started from the day they moved.

He already knew where this was going. Richard adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. "The Hawthorne deal is on thin ice." Elliott exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his dark hair. "If this is about my personal life again–" "It's not just your personal life." Richard cut him off smoothly. "It's the image of this company. The future of our legacy." Elliot clenched his fists under the desk. The word legacy had been drilled into him since childhood. Everything had always been about the family name, the empire his father had built, and the expectations placed on his shoulders.

"I'll tell you the truth, Adrienne, it made me cry. Because it told me that my son was thinking of children and how precious they were. It filled me with wonder, too, when I saw it com-pleted. I think it would most any woman. Men don't usually see children like this. But the Hawk, he's a rare man. Like his father." You don't have to sell me on him, Adrienne thought mo-rosely. "I'm sorry, Lydia. I'm very tired. I need to go rest," she said stiffly, and turned for the door. As she entered the corridor she could have sworn she heard Lydia laughing softly. Hawk found Grimm waiting for him in the study, gazing out at the west cliffs through the open doors. He didn't miss the tiny whiteness at Gri

After years of meticulous maneuvering, board wrangling, and dealing with the stubborn ghost of the Lancaster name, my legacy was finally being cemented into the bedrock of the tech industry. "Look at this, Sophia," I said, my voice rich with satisfaction. I didn't turn around, simply watching her in the mirror's reflection as she moved quietly around the master bedroom. "Hawthorne Vision is going to be the gold standard by the time the bell rings on Wall Street." Sophia paused near the edge of the bed, fastening a delicate silver watch to her wrist. She was wearing a charcoal grey suit, her face was pale, devoid of the emotional volatility that usually made her so exhausting to manage.