Famous Fictional Thieves Novels & Stories

However, the mysterious figure was unfamiliar to him. "He's called Grasshopper, a disciple of the Thieves' Guild. Perhaps he's the last member of the Thieves' Guild," Alexander spoke with a hint of regret in his tone. With the advancement of technology and the increasing number of surveillance cameras, the Thieves' Guild had gradually declined. "What? Thieves also have guilds?" George exclaimed, astonished to hear this for the first time. "Haha. They're not your ordinary thieves! They're the thieves of the martial world, seldom stealing money," Alexander explained further. The founder of the Thieves' Guild once said, 'There is an art to theft', and all disciples followed this principle.

I bring my girlfriend, Madeline Conway, back to my village hometown to meet my parents and discuss marriage plans. Mom and Dad grin slyly as they say, "You're going to have to be careful with your belongings after marrying Jasper, Maddie." My younger brother, Justin Norman, bursts out in laughter. He scoffs and says, "You probably don't know this, Maddie, but Jasper stole Mom's gold necklace when he was little. Dad locked him up in the storeroom all day and night and still couldn't get a confession out of him." The moment he says that, Mom and Dad smack the table and burst into laughter. My grip on my fork tightens as I fight to contain my anger and anguish. "I said I never stole it."

“She mentioned Jim… and a few of his aliases. Names I’ve heard before—only now do I realize they were all him.” He folded the letter back up and tucked it inside his coat. His voice was low and steady, like still water: “He’s a legend, Livia. In the underworld, among those who truly stand at the top—master thieves, assassins, dealers of information—many of them were once his disciples. His movements are shrouded in secrecy. Few have ever seen his true face. Some say he’s not even a person, but the name of a shadowy organization. Others claim he’s already dead. But more believe he’s still alive, hiding in the deepest, darkest places.”

"But I deserved it." He looked confused. "He found out about the plan." "What plan?" "I have a criminal record, Nash, and you might be one of the best lawyers, but you can't save me from prison when the truth comes out." "Have you ever heard of the notorious jewel thief?" He nodded quietly. "Wait, that's you?" "How?" "I've been doing it for years. I've been wearing disguises that made me unrecognizable, and I stole jewels from the highest bidders who loved to collect them."

“Were you by chance spice merchants before the plague?” “Yes” said the one driving the cart slowly, “how did you know?” His voice sounded suspicious and I wondered if they had already started robbing the dead. “Oh” I waved a hand noncommittally, “I just assumed with that much knowledge you had to be.” My inner brain was working and making a mental note of the herbs listed to use as a concoction for my mask. These were the four famous thieves, pre-fame, who had been let go and not burned at the stake for their crimes because they had given a judge their recipe that had in turn saved lives. They threw the body on the cart and scrambled back on continuing their trek down the street yelling for

Even though there are lots of shops here, the places that concede are always shops owned by the state. "Damn, so it's true that the leader of this country is indeed a devil who doesn't care about his people!" said the male thief, they were 2 people wearing black masks. "It's been almost a week though, there's absolutely no reaction," girl thief. "Come on, let's take him immediately. Hopefully our hiding place won't be discovered." They came out through the destroyed wall carrying a bag of Danirmala coins and money. When the man pointed his hand at the wall, the wall that was originally destroyed became whole again.

Something told me this girl knew what she was doing, and she wasn't going to stop the until she'd finally broken me down. As if her cheating and lying weren't a sledgehammer enough. "So what do you plan to do?" I paused my rapid typing and thinned my eyes at the odd numbers on the screen of my monitor, heat rolling up my spine when the numbers failed to coincide. Just another person to die at the hands of the Cattanios, and this time, a thief who thought he'd get away with cooking books and stealing half a million from a mega sale of desomorphine, or better known as Krokodil.

Dad has no shortage of ‘business’ contacts, after all. The more I think about it, the less that makes sense. He’s too… put together. Too normal, what with his big house and fancy suit and the general lack of any chaotic air about him. Most thieves I’ve met are all skittish creatures —myself included— eyes always darting around to locate the nearest exit while keeping running totals of all the luxury goods within arm’s reach. Our jittery quality may not manifest in overt physical movements, but our eyes are usually our biggest tell.

It was the thin thread that separated criminals from monsters. Giuseppe, his older brother, had once joked that Giovanni was like a modern Robin Hood—if Robin Hood wore Armani suits and carried a .45 caliber moral compass. They robbed, scammed, and extorted the rich and the corrupt, taking from those who had gained their wealth through others' misery, only to funnel much of it back into the hands of those who needed it most. Orphanages, women's shelters, soup kitchens—all received anonymous donations that kept them running when government funding fell short.

He paused and I could sense he wanted to say something but something held his tongue. "Speak" I gritted out. "15 bags of Molly was stolen from the harbour but we were able to get hold of three of the thieves. Boss..." I held my hand up for his mouth to go shut. "Why are they?" My patience was now running out. Those vagabonds think they can steal from me, that's a big bloody mistake. I am Marco and I was given that name for a reason. It screams fear, power and war and I would bring war upon their very household.