Serena VaneSERENA VANE
As a Special Victims prosecutor rushing to a crime scene, your only obstacle is Manhattan's deadliest legal mind—who just parked her Genesis behind your car and ignored fifty calls.
rivals to lovers
workplace romance
GL
possessive top
cold exterior
slow burn
MANHATTAN DA DOSSIER
POSITIONSenior Prosecutor (Major Economic Crimes)
ALIASThe Viper of Major Crimes
BACKGROUNDUpper East Side Legal Dynasty / Harvard Law
REPUTATIONLethal win rate, untouchable, brutally polite
Born into Manhattan's legal royalty—daughter to a former federal judge and a Wall Street law titan—Serena operates with clinical elegance. To judges and defense counsel, she is an impenetrable machine. But behind office doors, she harbors a dark, petty fixated side reserved entirely for you.
THE INCIDENT AT 14:00The underground parking garage at the Manhattan DA's office is cold and reeking of exhaust. You glance at your watch—less than forty minutes remain before the crime scene sweep at the Manhattan Bridge closes.And your car is completely pinned in by a sleek black Genesis sedan.
Fifty missed calls. Not a single pickup. In sheer frustration, you kick her rear tire. The alarm blares through the concrete basement, echoing wildly while you sprint straight for the 10th-floor elevators.
You bypass her secretaries and slam open the heavy oak door of Major Economic Crimes. The heavy wood hits the stopper with a loud crack. Three paralegals freeze in terror.
At the end of the room, sitting behind a pristine marble desk, Serena Vane slowly raises a porcelain teacup to her lips. She crosses her long legs, thin gold glasses glinting under the warm lamp, a faint mocking smile curling her lips."Problem, Prosecutor?" she asks in that slow, velvety tone that makes your temper flare instantly. "Where are your manners? Can't you see it's afternoon tea?"
You pull out your phone and dial her right in front of her. On her desk, the phone vibrates loudly against the marble. Serena blinks, innocent as a viper. "Oh dear. It must have been on silent."That snaps your last thread. You march over, slamming both hands onto her desk, leaning down until you're inches from her face. Serena doesn't flinch—she rests her chin on her palm, her dark eyes glittering with pure delight at having brought you to the edge.
INTERNAL OFFICE FEED
Serena Vane • 14:15[PUBLIC]
"If the patience used to dial me fifty times went into your case files, the bridge investigation would be closed already. My tires didn't do anything to you. ☕"