Notion Thief Novels & Stories

◆◆◆ Chapter 1 ◆◆◆ The security footage was undeniable. There I was, Sloane Harper, junior data analyst at WillianTech Industries, using a cloned keycard to slip into the executive server room at 11:47 PM. Downloading seventeen classified files on proprietary AI learning models worth millions, to a thumb drive. The kind of intellectual property Apex Tech would pay fifteen million dollars to steal. And standing beside me in the dimly lit conference room, watching the playback with unnerving calm, was the man I’d stolen them from.

Really bad. A file popped up in the chat. I opened it. It was a mess of graphs, lines of code, and network diagrams that I couldn't make sense of. Evelyn: I don't get it. What is this? Cipher: It's a map of data theft. Someone's been secretly copying files from Aethelgard's private servers. Zenith project specs. Supplier lists. All the secret sauce that makes our products work. My blood went cold. The room suddenly felt much smaller.

~Rose~ What the hell do I do? I already said that it was a mistake, that I hadn't intended on stealing anything. This was supposed to be the part where he let me go. But he wasn’t. He was holding a firm grip, so firm that it was stopping my blood flow. ”I think I should-” ”No.” ”You’re a pick-pocketer huh?” He said and stepped closer.

Nora's eyes were filled with despair. The secretary did not give up and said, "Is there really no way to restrain Thorne?" Nora racked her brains but couldn't find a way to restrain Thorne. What made her even more desperate was, "Do you know, this Thorne, he is also an extremely talented hacker. In fact, even without resorting to such open methods, he still has the ability to retrieve the assets belonging to the Miller Group. I have heard that in just a few months, he directly brought down the four major top families of the Capital."

"He was Marcus's business partner before we started NeXus. The one who tried to embezzle their seed fund and got cut out." It wasn't Sienna. It wasn't Aria. It was a ghost from Marcus's past, coming back to haunt us. "But how did he get access?" I asked. "Thorne hasn't had clearance in five years." Lewis pulled up a log. "He didn't hack us, Noah. He walked in the front door. He's using a cloned credential key." "Whose key?" Lewis hesitated. "It's tagged to 'S. Stone'." The Pawn

"In the corporate world, the 'Thorne Heirs' aren't babies. They’re long-term variables. If someone knows their health profile, their blood type, their genetic predispositions... they have leverage. Forever. This wasn't a tabloid hit. This was a data heist by someone who’s playing a much longer game than a front-page headline." The "Nobody" dream felt like it was evaporating right there in the dark. We’d tried so hard to be ordinary, to be just another couple in a quiet Italian valley, but the Thorne name was a beacon that even the thickest stone walls couldn't hide. Marcus, our security lead, appeared at the door. He didn't come in; he just leaned against the frame, looking exhausted and gri

A man who stood in a glass tower, watching the shadows build. Sabatine closed the news feeds and opened a fresh, encrypted document. He wrote, his mind pouring into a cold, biting strategy. Subject: Anton Rogers. Profile: Control as master motivator. Trust deficit, likely a result of past trauma (business? parental?). Will attempt to limit access, provide filtered data. Initial plan will have to bypass his defenses; demonstrate him an essential application. Method of Theft: Sophisticated. Insider knowledge is a certainty. Offender is a past intelligence or has direct access to those means. The HVAC anomaly suggests.

All because some psychopath with a telephoto lens had captured a private moment between two consenting adults. The business documents were equally disturbing. The Milan issues were real—minor compliance failures our legal team should have caught. Sarah's gallery funding wasn't a secret, exactly, but it wasn't public knowledge either. Then there were the foundation documents showing my companies as key suppliers for several of Maya's projects—creating leverage Daniel could exploit. One final message appeared in my inbox: She's not yours, Thorne. She doesn't even need you. But you could leave now before the real damage starts. You have vulnerabilities you don't even recognize.

When your sociopathic cat starts offering comfort, you know your anxiety levels have reached critical mass. I didn’t expect them to make a decision today – these things usually took weeks of bureaucratic deliberation. But Benito had mentioned there was only one other candidate, and they wanted to move quickly. What if the Pride and Prejudice tangent had been unprofessional? What if they thought using Notion for task management was sketchy because everything was stored in the cloud? What if they could somehow sense that I’d been moonlighting as a fake heiress and committing identity fraud with billionaires?

A threat. "I’ve been making them dependent on me." I turned to face him, leaning against the cold steel of the console. "Every piece of equipment Thorne is using to track us, every filter he uses to purify the DNA he steals—it runs on a proprietary software license owned by Argent-Tech. A license I revoked thirty seconds before we got into this elevator." "You shut them down?"