Alessandra Ambrosio Net Worth Novels & Stories

“But it just doesn’t make sense. Why will Finn’s mom make you adopt her son?” I shrugged. I didn’t know why Marcella was doing all of these too, but what I knew was that she had a reason. Maisie reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. “Look at what I found.” She turned the screen toward me. The moment my eyes landed on it, the amusement drained from my face. My breath caught as I read the headline displayed boldly across the screen. Marcella D’Angelo. President of one of the largest corporations in existence. Net worth in the billions.

He growled. "There's this lady, Haylee, she's interested in Alec, but he don't seem to like her, also, her family's networth is worth a billion dollars and there is a ten million euros to her name," Priya smiled, a job well done. Everyone reverted their attention to her and gazed back at Old Master Hart, Alec was not even the least suprise, he knew what his mother could say, could do. So, it was simply what he had expected.

Mara Marino sits at a corner table of a coffee shop in Williamsburg, and she looks exactly like what Giuliana's file described a twenty-eight-year-old woman with money she doesn't remember earning and no real idea how the world works beneath the surface. She's wearing a blazer that costs more than most people's weekly groceries, fingers moving across a MacBook keyboard with the confidence of someone who has never had to wonder whether her work will pay. Alessandra sits at the counter and orders an espresso she doesn't want. She watches her sister in the mirror behind the machine.

"Liza, get three cups of coffee—" "We're fine." Marco cut her off. She nodded her head before a smile resonated from her and she intertwined her hands together, her eyes fixed on us—on me to be precise. "So, Alessia how long have you been an event planner? Have you worked in a big event before? What about your portfolio? I didn't get any." And then came the nervousness again from her bombarded questions. "I-" I looked at Marco who had his eyes fixed on his phone. "I have been an event planner for two years. And I've worked on a high-profile gal project for a renowned fashion brand. And for my portfolio—"

He said devouring his food. "But Allesandro please you don't need to buy me such expensive things. Please Sabrina like it that you wasted so much money on me." Sabrina said Allesandro guiltily as Sabrina was really feeling bad. The dress was of 300$ and Sabrina could have updated her whole wardrobe in $300. Rich people waste a lot of money but then they have so much money that they don't care like us..... "Sabrina don't argue on it. You are Allesandro Emilio wife and it's a gift." He said passing me a smile and sabrina nervously smiled at Allesandro .

Alessandro’s pov: “We’re at the brand launch event of Amber Bianchi, a well-established businesswoman, three-time Best Artist Award winner, successful art gallery owner with ten branches across the globe, and the wife of Alessandro Bianchi. The name, one that everyone has anticipated eagerly…It is Guns and Brushes.” I smile to myself as I turn off the TV. Not only because of how proud I am to be called her husband but also because of the brand name. Damn, this woman can stay far away from me and still make my heart flutter like never before.

"I’ll just seduce him, and boom—job secured." Katie and Skylar exchange a look. A concerned look. "Uh… Ari? This isn’t just any boss. We’re talking about Ace Alessandro." The name does a little ding in my head, but I don’t care enough to connect the dots. Katie throws her hands up. "Someone please tell her who Ace Alessandro is before I lose my damn mind!" Sky sighs. "He’s one of the richest and most powerful businessmen in the world. His wife is a famous actress. And in all my years as a reporter, I have never—and I mean never—heard a single scandal about him."

I decided to get some work done while I waited for Stefano and Samuele, but my mind kept drifting off to Alessia. "We have all the information you need," Stefano said as he barged through the door without knocking. I looked up, waiting for him to tell me. "Alessia Berlusconi, 24 years old. She is the daughter of Francesca Berlusconi; her father passed away before she was born. Francesca married Lorenzo Berlusconi when Alessia was one year old. They have a daughter together named Carmella, who is 23 years old. She never went to school and was homeschooled by one of the maids, Rosetta, who died when Alessia was 16 years old. Rumors have it that they sold Alessia on the black market to Sergei M

Rat said, “That night, your ex-brother-in-law seemed to have done something to you. If you don’t want to know, then forget about it. I promise that I won’t say anything about it. After all, I have good work ethics.” After pondering for a while, Beatrice finally said, “How much?” “Five thousand dollars!” “Isn’t that expensive?” “Ms. Assex, your sister is now the CEO of Assex Conglomerate with a net worth of hundreds of millions of dollars. You couldn’t possibly don’t have this much money, right? I believe we can still be friends after this, right?” “Fine. But I don’t have enough money right now. I’ll owe you two thousand dollars first.”

“This is about the family name. Reputation. Photos can come out anytime. You know who your family is, and you know who mine is. You know what’s at stake.” “Oh, I know.” I pushed off the vanity and closed the distance by one step, until our chests were almost brushing. “I also know I’m not a porcelain doll you can lock on a shelf while you go socialize with your past.” “Alessandra is part of the family’s business network,” he said, too quickly. “Meeting with investors—” I laughed, loud and sharp. “So now you’re calling a romantic dinner with the woman who cried at our engagement party ‘networking’? Great. When I sleep with another CEO, I’ll call it the same thing.”