The Thief And His Mother Novels & Stories

I inquired, turning my attention back to the chief, my gaze deliberately avoiding my mother once more. The chief paused, as if grappling with the weight of his words before finally disclosing, "Your mother... was arrested for stealing chips at Aldo Mauro's Casino." His revelation hit me like a thunderbolt, leaving me stunned and incredulous. I couldn't fathom what had driven her to such desperate measures. It seemed that no matter how low my expectations sank, she always found a way to surprise me with her actions. Despite our tumultuous relationship, I continued to extend financial support to her, knowing full well that it would likely be squandered on her gambling addiction. The realizatio

she gestured towards the imprisoned figures, each holding a tale of captivity. Thorian’s mind raced, grappling with the implications of his mother’s words. The dungeon, once a mere backdrop to his frustration, now loomed as a realm of hidden truths and untold stories. He wrestled with conflicting emotions — the desire to unravel the mysteries and the concern for his mother’s well-being.

I couldn't figure out who she was doing turns with. "You thief...hand over the child to us..." He roared again. He directed the thief part to my mother and called me the kid. I couldn't stand it when she called my mother a burglar..but at the same time...I couldn't stop watching Mother as she blinked her eyes suspiciously without even making any comment. It seemed that I should forget about the moment and query her but...I couldn't. "You ... idiot, you better stop calling her that" I roared at him slapdash.

Thea sniffed and sobbed, "My mother, she's an extreme egoist. She doesn't want me to use the money I earn for others. Every day, she uses very malicious words to scold me, scold him. She scolds me for being so young and acting like a mother, saying I have no shame. She scolds him for being an unwanted child, a burden to our family. My mother despises him for causing trouble for us and wants to drive him away every day. The child has a strong sense of self-esteem, his eyes are red every day... But I have no choice, I have to go out and earn money, I can't stay by his side to protect him." Thea suddenly burst into tears and said, "Every day, I could only comfort him and ask him to endure a lit

Two years ago, my older sister Jaslyn and I were trapped in a housefire. The firefighters told Mom she had to make a choice. They could only save one of us. Mom chose me because I was closer to the door. Later, when she learned that the fire had been caused by us breaking into the neighbor's house to steal stuff, she grabbed me by the hair and yelled at me. "Your sister Jaslyn was a model student. There's no way she would steal anything. "You're the thief! If it weren't for you, she wouldn't have died!" From then on, I wasn't allowed to eat good food or wear nice clothes. Every day, I had to kneel before Jaslyn's portrait and atone for my sins. One day, the class fund went missing at

"Mom, please allow me some time to think. I feel utterly exhausted and breathless as it is." "And that's because you're the one suffocating yourself. There's a clear path ahead of you. Why would you choose the wrong one? What about the right path?" "Right? Do you believe stealing someone's mate is the right thing to do?" "What do you mean by stealing? It would only be considered stealing if the person involved rightfully belonged to another." I raised an eyebrow at my mother. "What are you trying to say, Mom?" My mother glanced around. We were surrounded by the pack maids who served tea and lingered nearby, ready to assist my mother if needed.

When no one responded, Forbes grabbed the blonde curly-haired guy and pulled him upright, forcing him to find his grounding. “She stole my money and I was trying to get it back,” he wheezed out as Forbes' fingers gripped his neck. “Do you know her?” I interrogated. My wolf refused to accept that our mate was a thief. Even if she did commit the crime, we were certain that she must have had a logical reason. “Everyone knows her,” he remarked with a laugh, “Don’t waste your time on her. She’s a whore and a thief, just like her father.” -

He stared at me with wide, terrified eyes, his mouth working silently as he took in the silver light still faint around my fingertips. For the first time since this nightmare began, he looked truly afraid. The thief had finally realized that the power he tried to steal had chosen its rightful owner and there was nothing left for him to control. “Take them away,” Drogo ordered his men, his voice dripping with cold authority. “Lock them in the lower cells. Do not let them speak.” “Wait,” I said softly, touching Drogo’s arm. I gestured toward the porch steps where my mother sat bound. The complicated knot of old bitterness and the frantic warnings she had screamed only minutes ago refused to se

"Aunt Katerina, please. Please, I am begging you. My mother didn't do it. She has a heart condition. She needs her medication every day. Being without her meds in a cold cell... her health will deteriorate. She could die." Katerina didn't look up from her nails. "The item your mother stole cost over twenty million dollars, Nadia. It is a family heirloom. You should be thankful this has not gotten to the ears of my husband, Edward. If he knew his own sister-in-law was a common thief, I would have no control over his ruthlessness. He would have her executed by morning." "My mother is not a thief!" Nadia sobbed, her voice cracking. "She has worked for you for twenty years without taking so much

My mother, Samantha, believed I was born a liar. Because she was deceived by my father's sweet words in her youth and abandoned after giving birth to me and my sister, Mia, she harbored a deep, bitter hatred for lies. She begged a witch for two magic rings. The rule was simple: if the wearer lied, the ring would glow red and burn them with magic. Mia's ring never hurt her, even when she broke a vase and blamed it on me. But if I simply said, "I'm thirsty," my ring would sear my flesh until I screamed. At first, I tried to defend myself, but Mom would just say, "The ring doesn't lie. Only through repeated punishment can your wicked soul be cleansed." After thousands of burns, even I started t