Jane The Killer Real Face Novels & Stories

She moved her fingertips. A sharp, unpleasant female voice echoed in the room. “The camera is automatically connected to the internet, and now the videos of you taking off your clothes are everywhere!” “You’re wearing a gown. That means you’ve undressed yourself before the pinhole camera. The lustful men are already looking at your pictures! Hahaha. No one will date you once your face is disfigured! Gerry is mine!” Everyone looked at Jane in shock. Everyone shuddered at the vile words. She was trying to ruin another woman’s life by placing cameras in the changing room!

His smile was evil and deadly, his humorless expression terrifying in a way she knew all too well. "Don't. Don't you dare try to pretend to be the hero in this, as if you two weren't conspiring behind me! Don't lie to me Richard. I know you. Don't pretend as if you are a good person and I am a bitter woman , not according to your views.” Jane finished her speech panting, her hands moving wildly as she raged.

CELINE’S POV “Good day doctor” I greet while standing beside the doctor. He breaks his communication with the nurse standing in front of him. “Good … day Ma'am '' he throws his face at me and drawls out a greeting with his eyes a little unspread. I guess he has forgotten who I am. “Oh, I guess you have forgotten who I am. I am Jane, and I was here with the lady who was shot and in a coma. I mean Harley Thompson.” I explain and move closer to him. He is wearing a white coat and a stretocoope around his neck.

And as I did, I felt Tyrelle grabbing a hold of my hair and pulling me back. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" I winced. "Don't you dare walk off without answering my question. Are you or are you not Gabriella?" Just then Aelfric decided that it was time to intervene. He grabbed my hand and slapped Tyrelle's grip on my hair that made him let go. "Go find your own woman, mutt!" He said and stick his tongue out at him. "I'm not your woman!" I yelled. "You know the hybrid." Said Tyrelle. "So I guess you are Gabriella the Killer smile."

I said. Daiane rolled her eyes; like everyone else, she didn’t believe me. “Jane, even if Marius Blaine, the killer, is still alive, he’s not after you. It’s your imagination. That night you think you saw him... the kitchen was dark, and you must have just been scared, besides the fact that you hit your head.” “Why would he kill them all? And imagine how strong he must be to have done it alone...” I asked. Daiane shook her head.

‘I am – I am – I am not lying. The brothers watched, bewildered by the inspector’s sudden change of demeanour. Jyoti’s face had turned white with fear. She started sobbing. Immediately, as if someone had opened the tap to a reservoir. The inspector settled back in his chair, his eyes glowing red with anger. ‘Do not play the farce of the wrongly accused. I have done my research before coming here. The flat belonged to Mr R Satish, the famous Telugu singer. He has a summer house here in Palampur and you were a live-in

Zarion’s POV I found myself submerged in a terrifying haze. A realm where reality melded with the darkest corners of my mind. And in the depths of that distorted reality, I stood over a figure, my hands locked around her throat. A face flashed within my consciousness, etching itself into the fabric of my thoughts—a face belonging to a girl…a girl I once loved. Cassidy—her name’s Cassidy. As my grip tightened, a surge of inexplicable guilt rippled in my chest, rendering me unable to carry out the malevolent act that my instincts beckoned me to commit. I staggered backward, my chest heaving as my body protested against the violence that had threatened to consume me.

Nothing really did piss me off more. "You don't need to know who I am but I'm going to warn you not to take the Marcello offer if you ever want to see your daughter alive til you're grey and old." The stupid person at the other end spoke. There was something familiar about that nasal twang that I just couldn't exactly place. "Who is this?" I snapped at the phone. Jane "What's wrong Frank?" I couldnt help but ask when he came into the room with a frown, scattering through his stuff on the bed.

I am the matriarch of Marquis Valebrook Manor, a woman who lives with unyielding pride and has never once bowed her head to a concubine. When I open my eyes again, I've become the neglected wife in a modern wealthy family, driven into depression by my scumbag husband and his mistress. When I expose their sordid affair, my scum of a husband, Joseph Cooke, sues me for "invasion of privacy". The judge orders me to issue a public apology for 15 days, and the entire internet eagerly waits to watch me become a laughingstock. Joseph smirks. "Apologize or spend the rest of your life behind bars!" The mistress, Naomi Baxter, sneers in provocation. "Times have changed, Brenda. In today's world, t

Again. “I don’t remember doing that,” he said, frowning and looking closer at the picture. The picture was censored, but it was clearly him balls deep in some blonde chick at a bar. “It’s not really a flattering angle.” “You bastard,” Jane whispered. She shook her head. Her normally neat bun was coming undone and gray wisps of hair framed her face. “I can’t believe you’d do this.” “Do what?” Jackson scoffed. “The woman was of age and very consenting.”