Sara Pezzini Novels & Stories

"That's not a complaint. That's just what happened." He watched her take a bite of pasta with the expression of a man quietly rearranging something large and fundamental inside himself, and said nothing, because nothing was the right answer. The woman appeared between the main course and dessert. She came from two tables over, mid-forties, bright lipstick, the particular smile of someone who recognises a face from a conference name-tag. "Marcus Blake? Oh, I thought that was you. Sarah Chen, Morrison and Hale, we worked together on the Westport project two years ago."

“Danielle. How are you? Anything I can help you with.” “Mom told me you were making my shift injections. I’m just coming by to collect.” “Ah,” Sara said, closing the lip on a glass jar. She walked around the table looking as ethereal and graceful as one of Tolkien’s elves. Her light blonde hair, slim, pale frame, and loose, flowing dresses only accented the regal air she carried. In her late thirties, Sara could pass as an early twenty-something without too much trouble. Her brow furrowed lower as she frowned. “I’m afraid they’re not all finished.”

It was a sad day when we had to tell them that we found her body and she wouldn't be coming home again for holidays or summer vacation. The next photo was of her with her throat cut open and her one hand cut off. Her face, different from what her parents gave us. Sarah griffin, only twenty-two years old, her face sunken in, and teeth completely rotten from a couple of years of drug use. I remembered her well. She was the first case I worked on. I remembered all the faces of the victims.

Her answer came off like a whisper. “Hello, Penny, it is nice to meet you. Are you new? I haven’t seen you around here before.” As I try to make small talk with her, she starts coming out from behind the bookshelves, and as she does that I can finally see her. She has a petite but toned body, chocolate flawless skin with black straight hair that went until her waist but what intrigued me the most was her eyes, purple beautiful eyes that would make you drown in them before you could even realize, she was absolutely gorgeous.

Offering a military salute by crossing their hands over their chest they stood facing her. Jelena Savage was not as old as one would expect from the leader of an entire race. She was only 17, even younger than Axel by a whole two years! Her hair was braided just above both her ears, her eyes watched coldly like a hawk and inside them, one could sense ruthlessness emanating from her whole being. Her voice was a bat match for her personality, she sounded nothing like who she was. This was a strong woman, who ruled with fear and an iron fist.

He held on to my right shoulder, so I turned to face him. "Will you take your hand off my shoulder or I'll turn you into a mouse?" I raised my left eyebrow, glaring at his cold yet undeniably handsome face. "Whoops!" He immediately took his hand off my shoulder. "You two! What are you waiting for?" The guard on the table called us. He's looking at me from head to toe right now. I quickly walk towards him and say, "My name is Alenna Delevigne from the city of Nalaknabak. I'm a..."

It’s not her, I let out an exasperated sigh. “Who is this tho,” I asked. “That’s a content creator on P*******t, I can show you,” she said while pulling the phone out of my hands. Then she clicked on her page and I could clearly see her face, most importantly, the infinity stone around her neck. “ Zara,” I read her name. “Can we find her?” I asked Sarah, she shrugged. “Why?” She asked. “You See this necklace around her neck,” I pointed on her phone. She nodded.

Yet just as she lowered her eyes to glance at the provided materials, Emily sensed an unfriendly gaze directed her way—Sara's. Sara stood not far away, dressed in a deep V-neck white blouse and fitted black pants. Her lips, painted a bold crimson, matched her striking eye makeup, lending her an air that was equal parts alluring and intimidating. The juxtaposition of these two women—each beautiful, yet so different in style—naturally drew attention from those nearby. Sara held a composed, professional smile, nodding towards Emily in greeting, her posture conveying respect. But beneath that polite façade, there was an edge—a cold, almost imperceptible sharpness hidden in her eyes.

" That'd be all. What are your names?" " I'm Prisma." She was quite short, a red head girl and she looked like she'd have quite a personality. " I'm Sara." She was looking as gentle as her name. " I'm Kelani." She was tall and was a dark beauty, her button nose made her look unique.

a voice off-camera complained. I arched an eyebrow. “Who is that?” Sarael asked. “That’s Persephone. She’s one of Luna Crista’s sisters. And a bit… um, imagine Silvercloud with blond hair, tits, and a chip on his shoulder.” Kurt explained. “I’ll show you a chip on the shoulder when I take a chunk off yours!” as a blonde girl dove knocking Kurt off camera.