A Heart Worth Stealing Novels & Stories

Alberich’s angry posture coupled with the mop in his hand, she also hurried forward to stop him. “What’s going on?” Mr. Alberich yelled angrily, “That heartless man is outside!” Silvia shook her head helplessly. Why was her father calling him a heartless man? He was not a heartless person. He had never loved her or cared for her, and his heart had always belonged to Mariah. How could he be called a heartless man if he had never offered his heart to her? A person like Shaun could be called a heartless man. He was once in love with Rosaline before he fell in love with someone else. To be exact, he fell in love with someone else’s money. That was a truly heartless man.

I didn't realize your feelings are most precious thing Your heart is most sensitive and essential thing in your body You can't give it to anybody No nobody deserves your true love Nobody deserves your pure heart I will never ever allow any other man to contaminate my soul and heart My self-esteem was brutally killed.I HAYAT AHSAN, who taught other girls not to fall for anything as worthless as boys.I who tell them how much naive they are to trust them ,had fallen into trap. How could I? Was my Imaan that weak? Was I only worthy enough to have a piece of no.How I could abandon my morals?

It was the picture that mattered—the last photograph I had, the one I can’t go a day without staring at. And this stupid girl had the audacity to take that from me, to steal something so precious and then throw it away like it meant nothing. I thought a billionaire like me was untouchable—people don’t just steal from someone like me without facing the consequences. It took some boldness for Elara Walker to pull that off, and I have to admit, there’s a certain strength in her that I can’t help but respect.

I lifted my eyelids. They weren’t brown anymore. They were gold and red and mine. I glanced at Victor. I have communicated with each voice that had once cherished me. “This bloodline is not for sale.” I thrust the ripped ledger directly into the heart positioned above the altar. The heart shattered. Not with fire. With gold.

But regardless of the fact that they were men and should be the logical ones, they still end up being played on and manipulated by their mistresses. The reason why I was snatching their heart away from the facet of their body, or stealing it away, as the news reporters have regarded, was because I wanted to keep it and to seal it for being so precious and rare, almost one-of-a-kind in some ways. Their magical hearts were like no other, and you could see how innocent it looks like when yanked from the outside. It has mesmerized me, and I even compared it to the heart of a vicious one, and could easily spot the difference between the two.

Memories from centuries ago flashed in his mind, unveiling the dark turning point in his life. Gomara. His first love, who was also the one that stole the Heart of Magic from the dragons. He told Gomara the magnificence of the Heart of Magic. He thought as a human, the then weakest kind, she wouldn't even dare come near the Heart of Magic because of the countless dragons guarding it. But Gomara wasn't as foolish as he thought. Gomara used her beauty to deceive everyone and marched with an army when everyone least expected it.

hesitated for a moment, lowering her eyes to the notebook she held as though it were a shield protecting her from the world. How could she hand over a piece of her heart, represented by her words, to someone she felt such hatred toward? But she soon gave in. She quietly extended the notebook toward "Nancy", her movements hesitant, as though she wished she could take it back. "Nancy" took the notebook gently, as if she were handling a precious treasure. She looked at it for a moment before opening it and flipping through the pages, her eyes moving over the carefully written lines. A genuine smile appeared on her lips.

Saint and I had just gone there to keep an eye on our latest target, and after the day's job, we decided that having a good fuck won't be a bad idea. It was meant to be something casual, just to let off steam and stress, like we always do, but somehow, it went way above that. That mysterious woman did one of the things the people of that pack were good at... Stealing. She stole my fucking heart. My mind. My goddamn soul. When I woke up that morning, she was gone. I was disappointed, to say the least. But Saint's anger over his stolen wristwatch hijacked any chance I had to look for her. And we had to return to the pack first thing that morning to attend to an emergency.

His father destroyed mine, and now he walks around with Stella in his arms like she’s his prize. But she had no idea what he was capable of doing. He looked so happy with her… but happiness is fleeting, and I was going to rip it from him piece by piece. I looked at the flash drive, and it felt like I had the key to Pandora’s box. This box was worth every single penny I paid for it. I smirked, but as I kept scrolling something caught my attention. This name was highlighted… I looked at it for almost five minutes. There was something so familiar about the last name Heart. I looked at the killer opposite it— and it was James Hawthorne.

“I hate that I wait. I go up the stair in my head before anyone calls. You stole that from me. You can stop calling it nothing.” He went still for a breath. Then his fingers left and the head of his cock pressed where they had been. “I don’t steal hearts,” he said against my ear, and pushed in raw, deep, one long claiming stroke that made my forehead drop to stone. “I take what I want. You were supposed to be nothing. An hour. A mouth. A hole I sent back to straw.” He bottomed out and held, shaking once. “You aren’t. That is the problem. That is why I am in an alley like a thief in my own house.”