When I Was Puerto Rican Audiobook Novels & Stories

I was finally pregnant after three years of marriage. I was going to head to where my husband works with a lunchbox in my hand to tell him the good news. But I ended up being mistaken as a mistress by his secretary. She dumped the food I had prepared on my head, stripped my clothes off, and continued to hit me until I had a miscarriage. “You’re just a servant. How dare you seduce Mr. Gates and bear his child? “Today, I’ll make sure you suffer the consequences of being a mistress!” She then went to my husband asking for a reward. “Mr. Gates, I took care of a servant who wanted to seduce you. How are you going to reward me?”

On the day I discovered I was pregnant, my husband's first love—who also happened to be my half-sister—returned.

My superior loved tricking me into wearing tight-fitting pencil skirts to serve wine to sleazy clients while sticking close to them. Then, she would hint that I was single and a valid target while she excitedly waited for the clients to make a move on me. It was all in the name of checking the integrity of the clients and whether they were worthy business partners or not. The moment a client fell for it, she would rush over with righteous anger and throw wine in their faces. Then, she would lecture me with a voice heavy with anguish. “Do you lack money so much that you’d throw your dignity away just for better results?” She would trample all over my dignity to set up her image as a refined, noble woman. This time, she even prepared a gown with a super low neckline and pushed me to serve a client with a rich and powerful background. She threatened me by saying that if I did not go, she would deduct my bonus for three whole months of full attendance. But when I saw the familiar, cold man sitting in the seat of honor, it was my turn to laugh. If my brother saw me serving wine in this kind of dress, I did not doubt that by tomorrow, the company would be under my name.

I'm the daughter of Don Falcone. After I got back from studying abroad, my family threw a welcome-home banquet, conveniently setting me up to meet the fiancé my father had handpicked for me—Santino Moretti. My father praised the guy to the skies in his letters: he was the heir to the Moretti family, elegant, ruthless, drop-dead gorgeous, and holding half the city’s underground operations in the palm of his hand. I arrived at the Elysium Hotel right on the dot. Just as I was about to take a seat, a hand shoved me hard. A woman's shrill voice pierced my ear. "Livia, what's a Sicilian peasant like you doing here? This is the Imperial Suite. Do you think you even deserve to breathe the air in a place like this?" I recognized the woman. It was Bella, a bitch who had always had it out for me back in college. She was clearly trying to humiliate me. Instead of getting mad, I smirked. "Whether I deserve to be here or not—is that for you to decide?" Bella sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm Mr. Santino's personal assistant. Today, Mr. Santino is hosting the eldest daughter of the Falcone family here. This isn't an occasion for bottom-feeding trash like you." "Be smart and crawl back to your slum." I pulled out my phone and dialed my so-called fiancé. I wanted to ask him if it was a tradition in the Moretti family to let their dogs bark at the front door.

In order to protect my father, I was tortured for ten hours, but my father was busy celebrating his adopted daughter’s eighteenth birthday. With my dying breath, I called my father and said, “Dad, it’s my birthday today. Could you wish me a happy birthday?” “You crazy monster! You got your mother killed in order to celebrate your birthday! How could you still ask me to celebrate your birthday? You should just die!” With that said, he hung up. The next day, my corpse was placed in different flower pots and put in front of a police station. My father was in charge of inspecting my corpse, and he could immediately tell that the murderer did this for revenge. What they did to me was cruel and made a mockery of the police’s authority. But he did not manage to tell that the deceased was the daughter he hated.

Saphira is a beautiful woman with long, light blonde hair and blue-gray eyes, only 25 years old. She is simple and shy, but she is strong and decisive when it comes to work. A harassment situation at her company leads her to move from a small town in Texas to New York. She takes her little savings and CV and tries to get a job. Christopher is the CEO of a large advertising company. When Saphira starts working for him, he maintains his professionalism and detachment, but he can't help but appreciate the girl's beauty. He is always jumping from woman to woman, and his playboy fame is well known, so when he confesses his interest in her on a business trip, Saphira doesn't take him seriously and sets the professional barrier between them very high. Her coldness towards him stirs up the feeling that is born in his chest even more, but Saphira doesn't allow any approach, despite Christopher sometimes seeing in her eyes that the feeling is reciprocal. What would he have to do to conquer the girl who looked like "the girl next door" he's been looking for all his life? And why doesn't Saphira want to give him a chance? What dark secret keeps her away?

Every she-wolf in Crescent Ridge knew the Nightwood name. Lola did not. She grew up in the pack orphanage with no bloodline sponsor, no rich family background, no seat among the pack’s royalties. Some wolves were born into power. Others had to fight for every inch. Lola fought. She worked day and night, building something out of nothing until the Moon Goddess finally blessed her with a fated mate—Alpha Tristain Herdez. He was Powerful, respected, desired by every she-wolf. Five years after their wedding, their house was still empty. The pack physician revealed the truth: Tristain could never father a child. Lola kept his secret and buried herself in work, building a company that all of Texas admired. Then she collapsed during a press conference. Stage four cancer. Less than a year to live. While she prepared to leave a legacy behind, Tristain returned home one day with a newborn, claiming the baby was abandoned at the pack gate. But the child had Tristain’s face and her best friend’s eyes. And Lola was running out of time to uncover the truth.

When my mom texted me, urging me to go home for a blind date, Charles had just finished with me. His warm breath brushed against the back of my ear, sending a tingling sensation straight to my heart. He wiped away the traces on my skin with gentle care, but when he spoke, his voice was chillingly indifferent. "Since Mrs. Shaw is pushing you, you should head back soon." I thought he was jealous, and a surge of sweetness filled my heart. I quickly grabbed his wrist, telling him my feelings. "Charles, I want to stay with you. I'm not going anywhere!" He froze for a moment, then let out a derisive laugh. One by one, he pried my fingers off. "You didn't actually think I was jealous, did you?" Tucking my damp, messy hair behind my ear, he remained as gentle as ever, but his words were almost cruel. "Rose is pure and innocent. I couldn't bring myself to touch her before marriage, so I used you to satisfy my needs. However, now, our engagement is set. She'll soon be my rightful wife. You're no longer needed."

Venice once rejected Lucien during their university days, believing he was someone far beneath the world she desired. Ambitious and drawn to wealthy and famous men, she never imagined that the quiet man she dismissed would one day become someone powerful. Years later, Lucien has everything—wealth, influence, and a marriage arranged under complicated circumstances. During a grand Bachelor’s Party he hosts, fate brings Venice back into his life. The moment he sees her again, Lucien hires her on the spot. Now Venice finds herself working for the very man she once ignored—Lucien, who is no longer the quiet student she remembered, but a cold and irresistible billionaire. Determined to keep her distance, Venice focuses on her job and reminds herself that Lucien is a married man. Yet the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to ignore the tension growing between them. What Venice doesn't know is that Lucien didn't hire her by coincidence… he had been searching for her for years. Caught between resisting the man who now holds power over her and confronting the feelings she never expected to feel, Venice must decide: will she walk away before it's too late… or will she find herself trapped in a desire she can no longer escape?

It was our wedding anniversary when my husband's high school sweetheart posted a sonogram picture on her social media, with her captioning a public thank-you to my husband: [Thank you to the man who's been there for me for ten years, and for giving me a son.] The room spun, and anger surged through me as I quickly commented: [So, you're proud of being a homewrecker?] Almost immediately, my husband called, his voice full of rage. "How can you think such disgusting things? All I did was help her with IVF, fulfilling her dream of becoming a single mom. "And by the way, Ruby only needed one try to get pregnant, while you’ve been through three rounds with nothing. Your body is useless!" Just three days ago, he told me he was going abroad for business—ignoring my calls and messages the entire time. I thought he was just busy. However, it turned out he was with her, attending her prenatal checkup. Half an hour later, Ruby posted again, showing off a table full of delicious food. [I got tired of French food, so Ash made me all my favorite dishes. He’s the best!] I stared at the pregnancy test in my hand, the joy I had felt earlier now completely gone. After eight years of love and six years of swallowing my pride just to keep the marriage alive, I’m finally ready to let go.