Novel & Cerita My Grandfather Was A Thief

It was true that my grandfathers—the men who'd raised me—lived on an island, but they were no fishermen. Edgar Blythe, or Grandpa Eddie, was the highest-bounty serial killer on the international wanted list. Countless tyrants and scum had died at his hands. Franklin Graves, or Grandpa Frankie, was an underground boxing champion who could smash half a ton of granite into powder with just one punch. Tobias Mercer, or Grandpa Toby, had been one of the top secret agents in Acratius in his younger days.

Grandfather stomp his cane angrily on the floor. "You and I know this isn't some big deal. You can easily handle this. Besides why are you talking as though you didn't steal someone else's woman. You literally kidnapped grandmother on her wedding. So you are the last person I expect to complain." "You rebel. I will disown you. You dare talk back."

My grandfather was a thief. He stole my grandmother’s name and the opportunity that could have taken her out of the backwoods, then left with another woman by his side. One of them became a prominent law professor, standing at the front of lecture halls talking about fairness and justice. The other became a renowned fine artist, speaking in front of news cameras about art and integrity. Meanwhile, my grandmother was trapped in the backwoods her entire life, enduring pointed fingers and malicious insults everywhere she went. She died with her eyes wide open, refusing to rest in peace. Fifty years passed. I owed everything to the sacrifices of my grandmothe

My grandfather was a thief. He stole my grandmother's acceptance letter and the New York scholarship she had earned under her own name, then used both to take another woman from an Appalachian coal town to Manhattan. Years later, he became a tenured Ivy League business professor who stood behind polished lecterns and lectured rich students about market ethics. The woman beside him became the darling of New York galleries, a celebrated artist who smiled into cameras and talked about female independence. My real grandmother, Grace Walker, was left in coal dust, trailer parks, and the kind of shame small towns pin on powerless women. People called her cheap and d

I asked. There was a brief pause. He shifted slightly in his chair. “Human trafficking,” he said quietly. “Money laundering, illegal arms deals and he eliminates anyone who becomes a liability.” The air left my lungs. Even though I already found out yesterday night, it still felt strange and unacceptable. I knew my grandfather was cruel, manipulative, power-hungry. But this? “That’s impossible to believe for real,” I whispered. “It’s not,” he replied. “And you are on his radar.”

“Oh, and Great grandfather gave you your first piece of land when you were just a young boy.” “That he stole from an unsuspecting and naïve couple.” His grandfather turned his gaze toward the ceiling. “It didn’t stop there. He robbed the poor and gave to the rich. I too repeated this pattern of behavior when I was old enough.” “So, the land the oil was found on and used to build Kashton Industries actually belonged to someone else, and great grandfather stole it?” “Yes. One of my dad’s poor friends discovered it. Before the friend had a chance to report his find, dear old dad beat him to it. The friend was never heard from again and you can guess what I thought happened to him.”

Jenny digging her finger nails into my chest and dragging out my heart while I kept on running which I think made her say this morning that I wasn't good at running. If that wasn't why she said that, what made her say that? How did she know of my nightmares? If that's not her problem, what is? What had she done while I was asleep? Why was she staring at me while I was asleep and the most important of all, what did she mean by ‘ your grandpa said hi ’? It kinda made me wonder if she knew that Lucius, my grandad was a psychopathic serial killer. He's no longer my grandad, I'll call him grandad when the name begins to suit him again. For now, I'll stick with Lucius...

The police officer makes his way to my grandfather. “Who is it?” My grandfather asks curiously. “Sally.” I am frozen on the spot as my eyebrows raise out of shock, the police officer revealed the name of the thief. Sally had worked for our family for as long as I can remember. She always told me stories of how she started working for my father when she was nineteen and how nicely they treated her. He started working for my grandfather after my parents passed. She was the one who babysat me as a kid when my parents had to stay out late working.

He yelled. "Grandfather, I didn't pull any tricks," I said. "Don't think I don't know you threatened her '' he said, eyeing me. I was shocked, how did he know I threatened her? Is grandfather a wizard or something? "I am not a wizard, I trained you since you were 13 when you gold digging whore of a mother left you remember? I know everything about you!" He yelled. How did he know I was thinking he is a wizard, it's official that my grandfather is a wizard.

“Fine grandfather. You win. I’ll attend that ceremony, so don’t arrange a blind date for me. I’m so sick of it.” His grandfather laughed at his remark. “What’s so wrong with it? They were so pretty and intelligent, in my opinion. I even suspected you of being gay, since you don’t have any relationships at all. Tell me, my grandson. Is that true? Don’t worry, grandfather won’t blame you. I’m a very open-minded person.” “WHAT?! GAY?! Grandfather, what the hell are you talking about?!” His voice raised as he questioned his grandfather. That’s a silly question, to begin with. ‘I can’t believe he suspected me as gay?! Do I look like one?!’