Dr Jane Serio Novels & Stories

Dope took it all in with a heavy exhale. “You’re going deep.” “Yeah and you always have to hear about something.” Dom ran a hand through his curls. “Can you even hear what I have to say?!” She turned sharply. “I don't give a fuck Dom.” “The more I get to know you, the more you amuse me ,” he said. “I amuse a lot of people.” She said while applying the make up to her face. The suddenly Serena had a seizure. Serena walked through the High Council’s Archive Hall in a borrowed blazer, case files hidden in her bag. She wasn’t supposed to be here.

Serah: New job. New pay. To give thanks to whatever dark gods had finally decided to smile on my miserable bank account, I showed up early. Early enough that the office lights were still half-dim and the halls quiet. Early enough that I saw him. Dante. Still here. Still working. Which made absolutely no sense. Dante wasn’t supposed to be here. Not really. A man with his background, his education, his quiet, unnerving intelligence… working in a perfume marketing department?

Then, she went back to grilling their afternoon delicacy, shaking her and smiling like an idiot. "I wonder what you whispered back there that made him look flustered," says Psyche while helping her grill the meat, leaving Daniel with preparing the table. "Guess it," says Serina. "I think I knew it," says Psyche as she swings her hips and gently bumped them into Serina, pushing her lightly. "Seri, darling!!!!" says Gregory while running to meet her. "I'm glad you made it despite your busy schedule," says Serina to her in-demand fashion designer friend and her former colleague in LV, where she and Psyche still work as teachers.

“Good. Turn it in to the authorities. And tell them everything. Who else was involved?” The janitor quietly listed several names—all of them on the list Serena had intended to dismiss. Serena’s expression softened slightly as she looked more closely at the woman. There was something familiar about her. “Have we met before?” At that, the woman’s hands began to shake. She lowered her gaze, voice barely a whisper. “I’m Sergio’s wife.” Serena’s breath hitched. Now she remembered. Years ago, she had caught a glimpse of this woman—curled up on an old sofa, flinching under Sergio’s belt, too frightened to even cry.

The faculty tried their best to calm the ticking bomb. "What! You are telling me to have patience when my veins are throbbing. You know who am I ? I am Eva Rose , the sister of Ro... " She stopped to contemplate wheather she should mention Rowan or not. Considering the latter she changed her plans and was about to mention about sueing the authorities when there was a soft pat on her shoulders. She turned and was stunned to see a girl with a broad grin and light freckles which camouflaged her face and added a hidden charm to her sun kissed brown locks . " Hi I am Serene Monroe. I guess we have mistakenly exchanged bags. "

“I’m Serena.” Serena–because that’s gotta be her name, of course she looks like a goddamn Serena-follows his gaze and catches me standing there, hair a mess, robe half open, probably looking like I crawled out of a nightmare. Her smirk widens. “Oh,” she purrs, “and who’s this?” Annette looks like she wants to die on the spot. “Dr. Eris Melrose, ma’am. She’s—” “The one taking care of me,” Dante cuts in. His tone is flat, but his eyes are anything but. “My doctor.”

My heart stops right there and I look up at Sylvana, realizing what her odd look was for. “I don’t think Dario needs to worry about getting close or making friends with her - because he’s already done both and played into her hands,” Sylvana says, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s right, I have. Because the spy in the picture was no other than the woman I had deemed my hope and whose name ironically meant just that. Serena Roberts, or rather Serena Speranzini.

She countered. Raine shook her head slowly. "You're wrong about what you think my feelings for Dane is. Get it into your head, Serena. I am in love with Dane." She paused, pinning her with a stare, "I fell in love with the person and not the gender. It's been that way for a long time. My inability to have sex with him has nothing on the love I have for him—infact I believe that my love for him will make intimacy very possible and great between us."

“Sera. She has been in the city for six months. She has been moving quietly. No public profile. No digital footprint worth finding without knowing specifically where to look.” “Who is she,” Sera said. A pause. “Her name is Vivienne Obi,” Adrian said. The restaurant was very quiet around her. Sera looked at Elliot. She said the name so he could hear it. His face changed completely. “She is James Obi’s daughter,” Adrian said. “She was three years old when he died. She is thirty-three now. She has spent the last two years building something and she has not been building it against Faust.” He paused. “She has been building it against Elliot.”

She glided further into the room, her movements a silken whisper. "Seraphina Ricci. A… colleague of Dante’s. Though, perhaps less of a colleague and more of a… past indulgence." She ended with a throaty chuckle, her eyes raking over my simple, relaxed attire, then lingering on the subtle bulge of the concealed holster beneath my lounging robe.