Stolen Novels & Stories

“Who let you borrow this?” “Hey,” she protested. “I need that to get back upstairs.” I slipped the card into the pocket of my basketball shorts. “Who let you borrow their card?” I asked louder than before. “No one.” She dipped her chin. “I stole it from Contessa.” “You stole it?” “Oh, come on. Like you’ve never committed crimes.” Murder. Theft. Bodily injury. Disposing of bodies. Blackmail. Fraud. The list went on.

She looked like a queen, and I had just spent the last hour treating her like my favorite toy. "Matteo, talk to me," I barked into the phone, stepping away from the bed. I didn't care that I was buck naked and dripping. In this business, modesty is for people who aren't in charge. "Boss, warehouse 15... the one where we have a lot of new goods we want to send to Singapore. It’s gone. Stolen and all the men watching it, are dead. Only one of them survived.” "Stolen?" I growled into the phone, the word feeling like a piece of glass in my throat. "And my men? All of them?"

Rebecca stood there, her arms crossed over each other and her eyes searching my face. “What was that about?” she asked softly, her voice laced with concern. “You look like you’re ready to punch something. Is everything okay at your company?” I sighed, running a hand over my face. “Not really. That was Fidson, my deputy managing director. Someone’s been stealing from the company by transferring funds to an offshore account. Fidson caught him on camera last night, sneaking into the accountant’s office after hours. He even deleted the footage to cover his tracks, but Fidson had backups. The guy’s been siphoning off over two million, bit by bit.”

"I got involved with the wrong people. When I was using. You know how it was. I kept borrowing money that I didn't have, promising I'd pay it back the next week or the next month. Eventually I just... stopped promising." Malakai stayed silent. He was sitting up straighter now. His face was still pale, but his eyes had sharpened. Aiden squeezed his eyes shut, chills running down his spine at the memory. "I stole from them. It wasn't cash, but some new product. I thought I could sell it myself, make enough to cover what I owed and have some left over. I was stupid. So fucking stupid. They caught me two days later." A lump formed in Malakai's throat. He had a very bad feeling about this.

Or rather, the life of my future career in media. I wanted to call his bluff. But even I could tell that every word he said, he meant. So, I stood there, and watched him call me a thief. I watched him say that fucking ridiculous proposal that would be my ticket to redemption –at least for stealing his Rolex watch eight years ago. I learned to cope with the guilt over the years. The guilt of stealing that hot stranger’s wristwatch. That hot stranger that fucked me so good that I – I shook the thought away instantly. No. I wasn't going to go there.

However, what he said sounded as if he had known me for a long time. Just then, my phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Simon. [Afraid you’d forget to return the life you stole, so I gave things a little push. No need to thank me.] So, it was his doing. I returned to my room and hired a private investigator to look into the matter, then carefully sorted my thoughts. Ever since Simon made money flipping scrap steel, he had started putting his guard up against me. To crush me as quickly as possible, he sought out Alex and pulled him into his group of delinquents.

The smile on my face grew colder. Three days after the stream ended, things began to shift. Quietly. Then, all at once. The first to fall was Tyson. Early Monday morning, a piece of news spread through every class group chat like a virus. Tyson had both his legs broken. He was in the hospital. Rumor had it that the bag of 30,000 dollars he found was not lost property at all. It belonged to a local underground banker, someone known for being ruthless. He had dropped it during a rushed deal.

That night wasn't going to happen again in this life. I went home and dug out my old diary that I'd hidden in a deep corner of my wardrobe. I was ten years old, homeless and wandering the streets at night when Graham—18 at the time—took me in. He was cold and aloof with everyone else, but he was very gentle with me. I knew that I had fallen in love with him when I was old enough to realize it. However, it was a secret that I could never reveal to anyone else. I grabbed the diary and tore it to pieces, shredding every page. Then, I threw the scraps into the toilet and flushed them down.

"Didn't you say my mom scraped together fourteen thousand three hundred dollars for you? Where's the money?" His lips moved, but nothing came out. "Spent it all?" He dropped his head. "You had a lot to say before. Said I lost to you, said you won. What about now?" He was on the ground, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. "Nathan, I was wrong... So wrong... I shouldn't have stolen your money, shouldn't have taken your scholarship... Just let me off..." I stood up and looked at him. "Kevin, the problem isn't that you stole my money or took my scholarship. The problem is you thought the world would always be on your side. The problem is you thought my parent

I asked, my gaze sweeping from Horland to Sonia. “Around a couple of places,” she said. “Where?” “Starmout Mall? Any problem?” she asked, sounding serious. My eyes moved to Adrian. Without communicating, he understood the assignment to run their movement history and confirm if they were indeed at Starmout. Immediately, he entered the car and made the call. I turned back to Sonia. “In fact, there is. My mate is missing,” I muttered. This was the first time I had openly admitted to anyone other than Lucas and Amaris herself that she was indeed my mate.