Serena Valentino Villains Series In Order Novels & Stories

“I thought Isadora was—” “She is not,” Serena cut him off sharply. “Not by blood. She lied to me, Matteo. Lied about my father, lied about herself, and now I find this—” She shook the photo, her voice cracking. “Who the hell am I, really? A Valentino? A Romano? Or just a pawn between both?” Matteo reached out, gently pressing her hand down so she wouldn’t tear the fragile image. “You are Serena Vale. That’s who you are. The rest is blood and history, nothing more.”

You get the results. But then you also get her. And she doesn’t fit into the story the way she’s supposed to. Serafina Vale wasn’t supposed to become the heartbeat of this, she was supposed to be the door. The open link that got me back into the room. But now, the plan wasn’t straight anymore. It was curved, twisted, rerouted. Because now it had her in it. And I didn’t know if I was still driving it — or being pulled. The door suddenly opened behind me and there she was, bare feet again.

But one name kept resurfacing. Valentina Russo. I shouldn’t be surprised. But I was. The girl who replaced me was no innocent dove. She had teeth. And blood on her hands. I smiled. This was going to be more fun than I thought. Alessandro I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Serafina—walking like sin, speaking like vengeance, looking at me like I was the enemy. Maybe I was. But Valentina... fuck. She had branded herself into me in ways Serafina never could. Wild. Reckless. Honest.

I'd told him to be careful, but no, he hadn't listened. It would be fun seeing him explain his way out of this one. "Yeah, Evan, why don't you tell her what that means?" He shot me a look, making me stifle a laugh before turning to Serena. "Uh, a virgin is a very sweet, very beautiful woman. Yes, that's what a virgin is." The young girl nodded gravely in understanding. "So that means mommy is virgin too! She is the prettiest woman I know!" Serena said, giving me a gap toothed grin.

The thing was, Serena and her good friend Evelyn had a whole plan and the plan would need casualty and as much as she lied to Damien, she had to use him first. What she didn’t understand was that it made her as much a villain as everybody she thought was. It was a dramatic thing and she was going to use it, slither her way through anything and make sure she had Adrian Hale in hell. Her eyes were showing it and Damien was catching on.

My eyes drifted involuntarily toward Serena’s lifeless body lying on the dungeon floor and my stomach twisted. “What did she have to do with any of this?” I asked quietly. Valentino smiled slowly. “I’d be happy to explain.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “You see, Serena began noticing a change in Demarion the moment you appeared.” His eyes flicked toward the corpse. “And while technically it wasn’t her place to care…” His smile turned mocking. “As the Alpha’s mistress, she felt it was her duty to make sure Demarion never fell in love with you.”

For a moment, the room was still. Then Lady Velyn whispered, “If you are who you claim, prove it. Tell us something only she would know.” Serina smiled faintly. “You have a scar behind your left ear. You got it the night your husband caught you sneaking letters to your sister. You told him it was from a fall.” Velyn’s breath hitched. “No one knows that.” “I was your queen,” Serina said. “I knew everything.” The table fell silent again not out of fear this time, but recognition.

He had killed for her. He had burned men alive for her. He had turned the empire upside down for her. It hit me like a knife to the gut. Serena Vale was the weakness I should have struck from the start. Not Matthias’s plans, not the empire itself. Her. If Damien thought he was untouchable, if he thought no one could touch his pretty little captive turned queen, then I would prove him wrong. I would end her. And when her blood stained my hands, Damien would finally know what it felt like to lose everything.

They aligned with the jagged, incomplete memories I had of that night—the sound of footsteps that weren't the heavy, lumbering gait of the Council guards, but the light, predatory stride of a Valentino. "He marked you in that gym, didn't he?" Serafina continued, her voice a seductive poison. "He tasted your blood. He saw the 'Traitor' brand and he felt... what? Guilt? No, Aveline. He felt relief. Because as long as you're the villain, no one looks at the hero’s bloody hands." "Shut up," I whimpered, my head lolling back against the chair.

“Mr. Valentino we—“ The host tried to cut in, but Julian didn’t stop, he leaned closer to the mic, his eyes cold as he stared straight into the camera. “Marcus death doesn’t make me evil, and i owe him nothing… not even my forgiveness. I still hold my grudges against him. The same goes to Bianca… my ex fiancée.” “We are so sorry, Mr. Valentino,” the host said. “For ever questioning your integrity.”