Notion Thief Novels & Stories

They looked at him not as a billionaire, but as a Scavenger King. "Leo, they’re hungry," a woman whispered as he descended the ladder into the main hall. She was holding a child—a child whose eyes were starting to flicker with the tell-tale gold of a Thorne-Infection. "The Director’s drones are intercepting the food shipments. He says if we don't hand over the 'Variable,' he’ll cut the oxygen to the entire block." Leo looked at the child. The "Thorne-Infection" was a digital virus designed to turn humans into obedient data-points.

Luckily for me, I wasn’t asked any questions about him during my concluding interview last week or else I probably wouldn’t have gotten this job. I also wouldn’t have been here if it weren’t for him –his watch that I had stolen and sold at a jewelry pawn shop. I swallowed hard, my mind raced with the possibilities that he recognized me. I stabbed the thought and shook my head. No. that wasn’t the reaction of a person who recognized his thief, it was the face of a person who has had so many one night stands that he couldn’t possibly remember the faces of every one of them. My phone vibrated causing me to pick it up to check the notification. I grinned when I read the message.

Especially now, with Luke a phantom he desperately needed to materialize. He leaned back, rubbing his temples. The missing data was a problem, a serious one. It contained not just his personal appointments, but also the detailed, encrypted reports from the private investigators he had hired to track Luke. Someone had not only known about the investigation but had also known how to access and delete the most sensitive information without leaving a trace in the broader company network. It spoke of an insider, someone with deep knowledge of Thorne Industries’ security protocols. A new problem. A new hunt. But the primary hunt remained. He needed a new secretary, someone utterly trustworthy, som

He was Cyrus Richmond, the heir of a top-tier elite family in the capital circle and the second-highest spender on our server. As soon as she noticed me enter, Stacy sprang up from her seat. She pointed straight at me and cried out in injustice, "Heather! You shameless account thief, you finally dared to show up!" The room fell into immediate silence. All four men turned their attention to me at once. Lewis, Shadowfang, and Reviver also rose to their feet, instinctively positioning themselves as though to protect me. Upon seeing this, Stacy's tears spilled over like broken pearls. "Lewis, Shadowfang, Reviver, don't believe her! She's not Moonwalker at all. She's my roommate. With the backing

And what we couldn't steal, my father provided. Harrison Thorne was our silent partner, a ghost in the machine. He funneled "lost" Thorne Corp funds through a series of shell companies, keeping our lights on and our tech updated. It was his way of paying for the sins of the past, though I still hadn't looked him in the eye since the night he hit the override. A heavy, familiar vibration thrummed through the concrete. I didn't need my new wolf senses to know who it was. The air always felt heavier when he entered the room.

“She orchestrated every single movement from the shadows! Her loyalty is completely rotten! I cannot stomach the depth of her treason!” I stepped into their space, my eyes locking onto the data flowing across the screen. “The mechanics are clear—Nora was an unbonded piece of flesh she acquired through the Skydrivee black market. The girl executed the raid on Chloe’s direct signal. Furthermore, her terminal is actively bidding on an older omega to mimic Natalie Brooks’s scent!” The words caused the room to tilt, my footing failing for a second as the horror of her plan registered.

“Hard limits. Redlines. I don’t care if it’s Godmode or your mother’s meditation app—if it talks back, it gets classified.” Coleman already had her phone in hand. “I’ll start baking Alexander’s notes into our threat models,” she said. “Quietly. If anyone asks, he’s still just rotting with a plastic spoon.” They all moved. Busy. Angry. Alive. I stayed where I was for a second longer, feeling the shape of the battlefield settle around me. We had: - A weapon built on my stolen pattern, testing its reach. - Copycats in other labs. - A billionaire trying to buy his way onto the right side of history.

- Amasteus said, enigmatic, when he left the room leaving him with his paperwork. It was close, very close, when Nathaniel put spy software on all the computers, where he tracked the transactions of each businessman, discovering as well as plotting one of the ten men involved in the attempt to overthrow him from the company's control of his status, trying to take stocks, by approaching and stealing amid embezzlement of money and negotiations. Meanwhile, in the center of the city of Lovecraft County, a temple appeared where a group of villains came together to interrupt the life of Dragon Knight, Nathaniel Delphos, who would not have time in his life to solve his own problems in his company.

The man next to Gregor had his face turned slightly away. "Your dad," she uttered slowly. "Grant, William." Nathan gave one nod. Together, our fathers constructed everything. The empire, the wealth, the power. However, Gregor betrayed him at some point. took something. Something that your father wouldn't return. "What was stolen?" she enquired. Nathan paused. "Data. Blackmail. Evidence of crimes that have the potential to destroy the Walker-Grant enterprise as a whole. Before he vanished, he concealed it. However, according to the rumours, he gave it to a person he would never be seen with. Someone the family doesn't even see—you. Anita retreated a step as the realisation swept over her like

I stood at the center of the chaos and calmly revealed the truth to everyone. I had long suspected that Willow was stealing my thoughts and creative ideas, so I hired a private investigator to look into her. What the investigator found was that Willow possessed an "Inspiration Theft System." "The 'system' Willow referred to is a tool capable of bypassing physical boundaries to directly steal fully-formed artistic concepts from my mind and convert them into her works," I said. The idea of such a system sounded absurd. But in light of Willow's breakdown just now and the glaring flaw in her painting, it became the only plausible explanation.