Stealing Home Novels & Stories

rose to their feet, instinctively moving to protect me. Upon seeing their reaction, Henry started wailing uncontrollably. "You shouldn't let him play you! He's not 'WindListener'! He's just my roommate who used his family's money to hijack my maxed-out account. He even stole my personal photos and pretended to be me just to get to you!"

I was just… a prop in someone else’s story. I opened the drawer on the right side of the wardrobe, looking for sunscreen or maybe a light t-shirt—anything to fold, just to keep my hands busy. But the drawer stuck. I tugged a little harder… and as it opened, something slipped out from underneath. A dark brown leather notebook. The corners worn. No label. No name. My heart started pounding. I stared at the thing for a few seconds. It felt like stealing. But this was… my room too, wasn’t it? At least, by our agreement.

Knowing she could not dally anymore, she shouted, "Okay, okay! I will tell you the real truth now! Just stop!" Laura's dark skin now seemed to sag, weighed down by the crushing burden of her secret. Her grey hair appears dull and lifeless, like a veil of shame cast over her face. Her brown eyes, once warm and loving, now filled with tears, brimming with a deep remorse that threatened to spill over. Her voice trembled, a barely audible whisper, as if the words themselves were toxic, poisoning her very soul. "Tristan, I, I stole you," she stammers, the words hanging in the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down, daring him to confront the truth.

That way I was the human block. “You are lucky my mate is standing in front of me, you would already be laying on the floor in pieces if I had my way.” He growls out as I place my back against him, I knew he wouldn’t push me out of the way to get to these horrible individuals. “Why mother, why would you do this?!” Becky asks at a loss, but you could hear in her voice that she was also hurt, her parents going behind her back to destroy the pack she now calls home.

" The officers, who hated him with so much passion pretended to smile and, walked away, knowing that there was nothing they could do. Andre overheard one of them saying, "That's how all these spoiled brats are," while the other said, "Shh, please. I don't want to lose my job." Deciding to ignore them and focus on what was more important to him, he walked away. At that moment, the man whose taxi he had stolen came out and ran towards him, cursing loudly, "You criminal! You've bashed my car! What is this? You've ruined my car!"

"The point is she shouldn't have had to survive me; she shouldn't have been put in a position where her strength was tested again, where she had to fight for basic dignity and autonomy against someone who had all the power." He sank onto a bench, his head in his bloody hands. "I've become everything I hate; I've become the kind of man who takes and takes without caring about the damage left behind—I'm no better than the monsters who hurt her as a child, just a different variety of the same disease." Matteo sat beside him, careful not to crowd. "So what are you going to do about it?" "What can I do?" Luca looked up, his eyes red and devastated. "How do I make amends for something like this? H

Caleb hand rested lightly on mine on the console, a small, grounding presence. “You know”, Caleb began cautiously, “there are people out there who play dangerous games.” He said and paused to look at me. “ You might be swimming with sharks without even realizing it”. I turned sharply toward him. “What do you mean?” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Last night… apart from the attempt on you, Some of the most expensive cars in your private garage were stolen.” My heart skipped. “What?”

I whispered into her ear, and she nodded but didn't make a peep. "Ryker, you go back a long time with the family." It was like a scene from The Godfather. "You knew better than to handle things this way." Jesse took the seat behind his desk and propped up his feet on the corner. "Son, if you needed something, all you had to do was ask. But taking what doesn't belong to you, is stealing. You know the rules." I nearly choked on laughter. "Stealing? Since when did a human being become property for someone to claim?"

He seethed, clenching his fists, “What kind of daughter are you to steal from your own parents home?” “Please, just please let me go,” She begged, “I've already taken the comics. I was on my way out the door. Please just let me leave.” “You're a thief Marigold, a thief! Why would I let you go knowing that you stole from me,” He raged.

I stammered. “Two weeks, mongrel. Make it look like a robbery.” He said to the goons who had stormed my mother’s home with him. I stared at him, too shocked to bother dodging the fist that landed against my jaw. The goons split into groups, half tearing through the rental house, turning drawers on end, and taking valuables. The others were getting to work inflicting as much injury as possible to my body. My mind was too far away to notice the pain that tore through me. All I could think about was protecting my sisters and brother. I had thought the man an easy score, a billionaire who wouldn’t care about losing a couple million.