Santa Thief Novels & Stories

Piper. I gape at him, caught off guard by the arrogance lacing his words. “No,” I snap, recovering. “The CEO got me this dress. Who the hell is Santa anyway? I’ve never heard of such a name.” His grin falters just a little, but he quickly recovers, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Santa,” he repeats, his tone dripping with mockery, “is an Alpha who can grant your every wish. But I suppose if you’d rather believe it was the CEO…”

He had impatiently replied, "Why should we celebrate Christmas too? You're so ridiculous." I admit that I had been gaslit at the time, especially after I had just seen the luxury jewelry set worth over nine million dollars in his suit pocket. But now, Melissa was wearing that exact same jewelry set. At my silence, Yves climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around me, pressing his lips against mine.

“What the hell? Austin shouted while watching the person, who was running with his phone. “My phone, dude! He muttered and turned back, looking at the sandal flying in the air with wide eyes. “JEN MOMMY!” Anna muttered while looking at Jenny. Oh yes, she just threw the sandal towards the thief. “Aaahhhh!” The thief shouted as soon as the sandal smacked against his back, making him fall. Austin looked at her flying sandal with wide eyes. He was like, What the hell happened? “Insane!” Ryan’s jaw dropped in shock. “You bastard!” Jenny stepped while running towards the thief and damn she is so fast. “Jenny, what are you doing? Come back! Austin shouted while pressing his forehead with his thumb.

The Stan were angry as they still wonders how he did it, that’s why they became rivals and kept sending men to spy on him to know how he manage to still deliver even tho the process became strict. “Boss, his name is sainthiago, but they call him saint, he’s an ex Mexican military officer, he left after his wife was killed at the barracks. He came to the United state through the Stan four years ago and join their spy group. He wasn’t the only one, the three others ran away.” Daniel said to Aaron who nod as he squat at the front of the man that was beaten and tied to a chair with wire. “What was your mission?” Aaron asked for the guy to raise his head up. He has been hearing the name Stranger,

Santiago muttered. Santiago hates three kinds of people 'Thieves, liars and double-crossers.' the scumbag who has been stealing from him just signed himself a death warrant.

She coughed, trying to clear the copper fluid pooling in her throat, but the motion sent a spark of white-hot agony through her skull. “Thanks, jackass,” Santa whispered. In reality, the words came out sharp and defiant, fueled by a year’s worth of stored-up rage. The laughter died instantly. Anol, the leader—a boy who smelled of cheap cologne and the rot of unearned power—moved with practiced, casual violence. He didn't wind up; he simply drove a fist deep into Santa’s stomach, just below her ribs.

“Santiago, I need information on Saint.” “Yes, sir. I was able to recover more information about him. He is from America. He joined the army at fifteen; he was the sniper, the best sniper the army ever had. This would mean if he wanted you dead. You would be dead. At twenty-one, he worked for the CIA; he was their finest, then at twenty-five, he left. Two years later, he went to prison for killing an innocent man with his bare hands; he served fifteen years and got early parole. They call him a saint cause he chose every step of his life, meaning that he wanted to go to prison; every step in his life has been perfectly calculated. I checked for track records of Mr. Morningstar dealing with h

Only one person had ever called me that. Could it be him???? Ice slid down my spine. I tore the envelope open with shaking fingers, unfolded the single sheet inside, and read: Little Thief, You have five hours to return every damn thing you removed from my mansion at 47 Hawthorne Lane. If the items are not restored (undamaged and in full) prepare to face the consequences of your actions. Regards, Leonardo Blackwood.

“This can’t be real.” The man — who was either Santa or a very convincing look-a-like Santa burglar — grinned and held up my lavender panties by the tiny string and said, “The note said there was something sweet for me…well, ho, ho, ho, I’m here to collect!” This could either be one amazing night of fantasy come true, or a nightmare. I licked my lips. “Prove you’re Santa,” I dared. Santa tossed his red cap and began unbuttoning his thick fur-lined jacket. “And how would like me to do that, my sweet?”

"Fine… it was Julian Valentino.” Gigi froze. “Julian Valentino? You mean the Holy Billionaire?” “The very one. I was locked in with him for the entire protocol. I walked away with $160,000 and an exclusive deal.” Gigi’s jaw dropped. "The Saint? Thalia, they say he hasn't touched a woman in years. They say he’s made of ice." "Actually, he’s not ice," Thalia whispered, the memory of his touch making her skin prickle. "He’s fire.”