Jane The Killer Real Face Novels & Stories

A photograph of Jessica Jane. Smiling.

"The first one was taken the day of the wedding. In the parking garage of the hotel. They fucked in his car, Maribel. While I was standing at the altar in front of everyone, Jane was in the parking garage fucking my father." Maribel looked up at me, her expression unreadable. "What are you going to do with these?" "I am going to make sure everyone knows the truth about Jane Parker. She is not some innocent victim. She is a calculating bitch who saw an opportunity to trade up and took it." "Hudson, if you release these photos, it is going to hurt you too. People are going to ask why she did it. They are going to find out about us." "Let them find out. You are beautiful and successful, everyth

“This whole conversation is gross. He kills people. Am I the only one who recognizes how fucked up this is?” “We get it, okay? He’s bad,” Anja droned, rolling her eyes once more and turning to Zoe. Her perfectly laminated brows wiggled in anticipation. “So, was it massive?” The pink rouge spreading across her cheeks and the giggle that slipped through her pursed lips gave away more information than she would’ve divulged.

Of whoever did this, had Lane. "Jane!" she heard the scream of her sister in front her, who was on the floor, hand and feet bound. Jane stood up, and got her gun before the black figure could hit her again.Pointed the gun to the man. "Who are you?" she asked, trying not to feel the pain in her head. Yet her eyes slowly widened when she saw who it was, a wicked smile displayed on his face. "Jane Adair," he said in a deep tone. The man who was with her twin sister, Sebastian King.

There was something about him that felt familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. Suddenly, a memory flashed in her mind. Months ago, she had come across a newspaper article about a notorious criminal named Thomas Martinez. He was infamous for his ruthless nature and involvement in various illegal activities. Her heart raced as she realized the man standing before her could be the same Thomas Martinez, wanted by the police for multiple crimes.

"Actually, I got a call from the waiter from Randy bar... he sent the culprit's picture. The culprit has been identified.. I am sorry to inform you... The culprit is Jimmy Jeff." Jane blinked hard as she processed the information. She staggered backwards and let out a loud deafening scream. Thereafter there was silence which was followed by a free fall. Patrick launched forward, he picked her up before she impacted the ground. "Jane!" He yelled and held an unconscious Jane in his arms. He held tightly unto her and rushed out for his car. *******

But their lifeless eyes and pale skin told the true story. Jane leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. This wasn't just murder—it was art to this person. A grotesque, twisted form of art. As she flipped through the file, a shadow fell over her desk. She looked up to see Marcus standing there, his expression unreadable. "Chief wants us to go over the latest crime scene together," he said. "Be ready in ten." Jane nodded, watching as he walked away. She felt the familiar fire of determination ignite within her. She was here to prove herself, to make up for the mistakes of her past. And she would start by catching the Bride Killer.

I instructed firmly. ******* I sat at the dining table, my attention shifting from the plate of roasted fish in front of me to Jane, my housekeeper, as she approached. Her demeanor exuded deference, her eyes averted in a display of respect. "Yes, Jane, I called you," I acknowledged her presence, my voice calm yet purposeful. I knew her abilities extended beyond her role as a housekeeper. My late mother had spoken of her past as a skilled serial killer, a talent she possessed.

After putting the food into the oven, she cut some cucumbers into slices and tried to stick on Jane's face. Jane shook her head. "How ugly!" Jane's face was full of dislike. "No, it's not ugly. With your beautiful face, nothing will make you look ugly. Stay still!" Sitting in a wheelchair, Jane did not have the strength to resist, so she could only give in to Renee. Renee even took a few pictures. Looking at Jane's aggrieved look,Renee put some cucumber slices on her own face, too. And then, she approached and took a picture with Jane.

I almost drool. The stranger seems shocked when he sees my face. “You...” he stutters. “What? Do you know me?” I ask, confused by the look on his face. It’s as if he knows who I am. “I know who you are,” he responds with a smirk. “Are you not the Alpha King, Richard’s rejected mate, Jane?” “What?”