Sergio Sendel Novels & Stories

Sergio was a beautiful man. I always mistook him for a girl when we were younger until we hit puberty and he forced me to understand he was a male. He was tall with a strange sense of humour and a warped view of reality but I understood it as his gift because Sergio is an artist. “I was expecting to see your fiancée but it is to be expected for you to be very secretive.” Sergio said as he pulled away and opened the back of my car before tossing his suitcase in. “You should come to Russia with her, Yuliy and Irina will be so excited to see her.” Sergio said as I chuckled.

CASSANDRA POV 1 YEAR LATER. "Why can't you send someone else?" I questioned my boss Mateo holding the phone up my ear. "Because you're the best assassin we have to kill this motherfucker, who has been causing trouble for us," Mateo said. "I don't give a fuck how you kill him, seduce him, shoot him in the dick, do what you have to get him" "Fine, so what's the guy's name, and what does he look like," I asked.

Thirty -Jenna- "There's a girl named Janet who makes really good sandwiches." Helmer says to trying to break the tension in here, then taking another bite out of it. I looked back to Alcander and see him taking a step closer to him while his head twitches while he keeps blinking. Each blink his eyes would change, hazel, blue, bright hazel, bright blue. He took another step closer while his breathing is harsh. "Alcander." I say while I look over to Helmer and see him looking down at the freakin sandwich, not paying attention that an Alpha might just end his life right here with no mercy.

Sergio fearlessly embraces his uninhibited and wild side. To me, however, Sergio is more than just a dramatic actor. He is my passionate eighteen-year-old cousin who thrives amidst chaos. If we're having dinner together, he's the kind of person who might decide to set a napkin on fire just for the thrill of it. Although he struggles with reading, unable to decipher street signs or menus and barely grasping the meaning of a single sentence, he possesses a remarkable talent for storytelling. He would often ask Willow, his brothers, and me to read books aloud to him. His room is stacked with hardcover books, and he entertains himself by writing plays using a voice application. Sergio is dyslexi

After he understood what Yadriel meant, the expression on his face became very perplexed. "Sergio, don't be sentimental at this moment. As a man, you should know when to yield and when not to act on impulse. Otherwise, the consequences will be unimaginable. I think you should understand." Yadriel took a glance at Sergio and saw the contradicting look on his face. He also had a thorough understanding of Sergio's thoughts. So, he reminded him patiently, "It's an urgent time now, and there's only one winner. At this time, whoever is soft-hearted will fail miserably. So, you'd better not be careless."

They moved fast — thirty seconds from door to stairwell. Up. Quiet. Until— A muffled voice behind the reinforced door at the top of the staircase. Dell was inside. So were two others. Lucien motioned. Split. Matteo veered left. Seraphina went right — slipping silently through the mirrored corridor toward the study Dell used for his blackmail storage. But she stopped. Frozen. Because the man guarding the door wasn’t a stranger. It was someone she knew. Sergio Vale. Gabe’s cousin. Older by ten years. A former elite operative from ValeCorp’s private security division.

“How well do you know him?” Gianna sighed and leaned back in her seat. “I know he's loyal, and he often disagreed with Marcello's methods.” A dry smile curved my lips. “Loyal to who?” “To Mr. and Mrs. Thorne, I assume,” she said. “Sergio is one of the old employees. He worked for Mr. Cartelli, but I heard he was very fond of Mr. Thorne's mother. He was one of the few who didn't curse her for marrying a non-Italian.”

Then a hand went up. “It’s y equals mx plus b.” I turned toward the voice. The guy sitting next to me was Hispanic. Sharp jawline. Curly hair. Blue eyes. Arms like tree trunks. “That’s correct,” Mrs. Payne said. “And your name?” “Marcelo,” he replied. “My name is Marcelo.”

My eyes met Giovanni’s, and I could see his dark smirk forming on his face as he knew what was to come. When our grounds and territory grew bigger, our strength grew with it. And I knew that despite him not voicing it out, it was something that neither Cosimo nor those who opposed by his side liked. But that was the disdainful things that they chose to neglect and ignore when they chose to side against us in the first place. “Split the head from the body. Burn it and send the head to Zenith.” I said, looking at Giovanni. “And I want Bartolomeo’s head in turn.”