Good Heist Books Novels & Stories

The night before the annual gala, my wife promised me a big surprise. But the very next day, she publicly quintupled the marketing manager's bonus. To me, she just gave a curt nod and a half-hearted "keep up the good work". When I questioned her decision, she brushed it off casually. "You've racked up some impressive wins in court. I'll give you that, but let's be real. Without Kevin hyping you up, you'd never have hit top-tier status. Plus, what's mine is yours. Why nitpick over a bonus?" The room buzzed with anticipation of my explosion. But I held my tongue till the gala ended. The next morning, I marched into her office and slapped my resignation letter down on her desk. "Might as well tack my salary onto Kevin's. Consider it my wedding present to you." She erupted, branding me as narrow-minded and dooming me to the unemployment line. She conveniently overlooked my track record as a powerhouse attorney. For that alone, elite firms were lining up to recruit me.

My best friend, Sydney Cox, is a troublemaker by nature. She thinks everyone around her owes her a good life. During summer break, she insisted on working in a factory. I was worried that she might get tricked, so I let her work in my family's factory out of the kindness of my own heart. In fact, I even gave her the easiest position with the lightest work. But I didn't expect her to think that her salary was lower than that of the veteran employees in the factory, leading to her setting fire to my neighborhood. The blaze was far too strong. Even though the firefighters came as soon as possible, my family and I still ended up dying in the fire. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day before Sydney's first day in a factory.

My fiancé's junior colleague went around the hospital every day calling herself "the best girl". When a patient with acute appendicitis was admitted, she mistakenly prescribed laxatives instead of proper treatment. The patient nearly went into shock and died. After the hospital was reported by the patient's family, she simply smiled and said, "I don't even need a supervising doctor to prescribe medication anymore. I'm such a good girl!" On another occasion, she failed to order routine pre-op blood work for a surgical patient. During the procedure, a visiting senior surgeon was exposed and later contracted HIV. She actually puffed out her chest and said, "Even if everyone had to stay up all night helping me save the doctor, I'm still the best girl!" I protested more than once and urged my fiancé to dismiss her. He refused every time. He brushed it off with a laugh, saying "this good girl" just needed time and experience. Then, a prominent patient was transferred from a military hospital for surgery. She secretly tampered with the medical records, switching the pathology findings from the left lung to the right. She even revised the surgical plan, recommending removal of the patient's completely healthy right lung. Luckily, I caught the mistake in time, restored the correct pathology report, and performed the surgery successfully. After the patient recovered, he asked for our team to be recognized. To my disbelief, Elena Bakers ran to my fiancé in tears. "I wrote the entire report by myself! All by myself! I'm the best little girl! "Why do you always take credit away from me? It took so much courage for this little girl to be brave just once! "You're all horrible!" Elena stormed out of the hospital and was struck and killed by a car on the spot. My fiancé did not say a word. However, on the very day I was appointed hospital director, he produced falsified evidence accusing me of altering records and causing multiple medical accidents to advance my career. I was arrested, tried, and sentenced to death. As the verdict was delivered, he looked at me with unmistakable satisfaction. "You'll never make up for what you owe Elena. Not in this lifetime." When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Elena altered the surgical plan.

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"

In order to secure the five-million-dollar business deal with a major client, I end up getting hospitalized from overdrinking. On the day I get discharged, I see a text message on my department's group chat. My manager, Robert Spradlin, has tagged everyone in the group chat. "Everyone must attend the celebratory afterparty tonight. We're celebrating the fact that our department has secured the biggest deal of the year!" As I stare at the screen, I feel a hint of warmth bubbling in my heart. Even though Robert is often stingy and loves putting on airs, I'm pretty sure that this is his way of acknowledging my efforts. I specifically go home and change into new clothes. Then, I arrive at the private room right on time. The moment I open the door, I feel a blast of hot air mixed with a strong smell of spice hitting my face. It's so overwhelming that I can't help but cough violently. "Sit, sit! I've specifically ordered these dishes for you!" Kristie Madison, the newly-recruited admin, gushes. But when I take a good look at the dishes, I feel my smile freeze on my face. Spice, spice, and more spice. Kristie has ordered 20 dishes, and yet I can't even stomach every single one.

My name is Estelle Langdon. My boyfriend, Nathan Schumer, doesn't love me. But good thing he's poor. One kiss costs 30,000 dollars, and one night of intimacy costs 100,000 dollars. Just as I am about to spend another two million dollars to renew our relationship for another year, the housekeeper's daughter, Sherry Tate, suddenly runs over in tears. At the same moment, I hear the voice of a child coming from her belly. "Mom, don't be scared. Dad is about to be reborn right now! "If it hadn't been for this nasty woman forcing Dad to stay with her money, how could you have missed out on each other for eight years? Only after Dad kills her do you finally reunite! "Luckily, everything started over. As long as Dad uses the two million dollars to buy Burkcoin, we can pay off Grandpa's gambling debts and Grandma's medical bills." I glance at Nathan, who suddenly carries himself with a cold and noble composure. Then, I quietly withdraw the black card I was holding out. Burkcoin, huh? This once-in-a-lifetime fortune will be mine.

What a small world. As Elaine Johnson was checking in at the hotel front desk, she happened to bump into Jasper Carter's young mistress —a girl who looked like an innocent college student. She was dressed in a simple white cotton dress, pure and demure, with a shy, sweet smile. "Hello, here's your room key. You'll be staying in the executive suite on the top floor," the receptionist said. "Thank you, miss," the girl replied softly, taking the key. Just then, her phone rang. Elaine overheard her speaking bashfully to the person on the other end: "Mr. Carter, I... I'm already here. When will you be coming?" Her tone was soft, a little nervous, filled with affectionate anticipation. A moment later, Elaine heard her add, "Mhm, I'll wait for you. No rush. Please drive carefully, Mr. Carter." The girl's voice was so sweet and tender, it could have melted anyone's heart. Elaine could not help thinking that her husband had good taste — the girl was young and beautiful, gentle and thoughtful, the kind of woman any man would find hard to resist.

I gave Julian Marchetti thirty years of my life after the war ended. I built his empire, raised his children, and held the family together behind the scenes. But when he died, his will didn’t even mention my name. Half his fortune went to our children. The other half went to Lydia Carter, the daughter of the man who’d saved his life in Normandy. The same Lydia who’d stolen my college acceptance letter. The same Lydia who’d built her entire life on the ruins of mine. All he left me was a single note, scrawled in his familiar handwriting. I loved you. We had thirty good years. But I owe Lydia. This is the least I can do. I dropped dead of a heart attack right there in his study, clutching that pathetic piece of paper. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn in 1945, when the war had just ended But in this life, Julian actually tried to trick me with a forged acceptance letter. This time I will not swallow my anger and suffer in silence; I will fight back. And I will take back every single thing that is rightfully mine.

My name is Sophia Colombo. I am the youngest daughter of the Colombo family, one of Newarke City's most powerful Mafia dynasties. My father is the Don, and my three older brothers control most of the family's operations across the Rooklyn, Kings, and Canhatte boroughs. On the Veste Coast district, the name Colombo commands power and fear. My best friend, Jennifer, always says I've been too sheltered by my family, that I can't see through a man's lies or schemes. She even offered to "help" me put that to the test. So, under the guise of looking out for me, she seduced my fiancé. After winning him over, she stood there, smug and self-satisfied, watching me like I was the punchline to a joke. "I told you—you're too naive," she said. "Those men are all cunning and full of tricks. If it weren't for me, you'd have been fooled into tears a hundred times over." I was furious—so angry I could barely breathe—but I couldn't find a single word to argue back. This time, I chose my fiancé in secret, keeping it from her entirely. He was the heir to the Lucia family. And just as I expected, the moment she found out… she made her move again. What she didn't know was that this fiancé was someone I had carefully prepared… just for her.

Seven years into their marriage, Bella got hit with a truth—Steven had a kid. A six-year-old. She crouched behind the preschool slide, barely breathing, as Steven bent down to scoop the boy up. "Daddy, you haven't come to see me in forever." "Be good, Ollie. Work's been crazy. Listen to your mom, alright?" Bella froze. Same face. Same eyes. It was obvious. Everything about them screamed it—The man who swore he'd love her forever had been cheating on her this whole time. Steven and Bella weren't just a couple. They were childhood sweethearts. She once took a knife for him. Nearly died. Lost their baby. Lost the chance to ever have one again. Steven had held her hand back then, eyes red, saying, "I don't care if we never have kids. As long as I have you, that's enough." She still heard the shake in his voice. Now? Every promise. Every memory. All of it—gone.