Alessandra Ambrosio Net Worth Novels & Stories

ADRIAN'S POV She smiled, then went to the bed. She sat down and crossed her legs. “I want 30 million for compensation?” I nearly choked. I stood up immediately. "Are you a robber?" My voice echoed through the room. "Why not go rob a bank instead?" Alessa looked completely unbothered. She even checked her nails. Then she shrugged. "Yes. I am robbing you right now." She crossed her legs elegantly. "I just want thirty million as compensation. It's not too much to ask right?"

Dominick revealed, wearing a knowing grin that hinted at the complexities associated with the name. "What does that mean exactly?" I asked casually, concealing my familiarity with the Alessandro family. Antonio Alessandro, a name synonymous with power and ruthlessness in their particular realm of business, was not to be taken lightly. Aleksei let out a low whistle, his eyes narrowing in a manner that conveyed both admiration and caution. "She's a stunning woman and incredibly wealthy. Or more accurately, she will be immensely wealthy once she marries. I've heard she's set to inherit over five hundred million dollars. She holds great significance for Antonio. He would kill anyone who dared to

Her eyes widened and she moved her head in a no "But won't people know? Where is she-?" "That's not your area of concern Amara. She is still studying in London,she won't return plus no one has seen her. She was first homeschooled in London and then she did her masters in finance from there only " "But why..." "You will get to know soon. But first, let's start with the basics" "You are Alessa Roussou , daughter of David Roussou...." "And the only thing you have to do is, get close to the next heir of Accardi family, the youngest billionaire in town

, Anjali explained. " Who gave you this new dress? ", Veer asked with suspicion. " Silly, who else will give? It's Alessandro, am I right Anjali? ", Neha asked. " Yes, he gave it to me", Anjali lied. " Tell me the truth who gave it to you, it's a unique piece designed by a famous fashion designer in Italy. It worth nearly ten billion ", Veer asked. " Oh!! Veer you think too much, Alessandro is the brother of one of the richest businesses in the world, ten billion wouldn't make any difference in his wealth ", Neha brushed off his suspicion

“Either way, the estate alone is a gold vein. If we fold Voss International into Cade Global, that’s clean access to European banking. No regulatory noise.” “And you love a quiet theft,” she teased. He didn’t smile. “What do we know about her personally?” Sienna flipped to a surveillance photo: Amara descending marble steps at the gala, black gown cutting like midnight. “Educated in Lausanne. No siblings. Only child of a discreet dynasty. Philanthropy, art acquisitions, the usual heiress distractions. There’s a whisper about a broken engagement in Monaco, but nothing sticks.” “Clean,” Ethan murmured.

As I turned the pages, a wave of incredulity washed over me. Amadeus Multi-Company—my inheritance—is a colossal conglomerate with an estimated value of **$800 billion**. I hardly knew how to grasp it. Alongside it, plans for **ten luxury resorts** are given—each a haven of sun-kissed beaches, suites that are pure opulence, and endless possibilities.

And again, the clothes she wore. Adel really wanted to whistle if she didn't remember that Amber and Ariana were in the room. How could she not, the girl who looked so much like Ariana looked beautiful in a pricey Zimmermann dress that Adel estimated to cost more than ten million. Not to mention the shoulder bag she wore, a Roger Vivier creation that surely valued in the tens of millions. Her shoes? Although they appeared as ordinary flat shoes to the untrained eye, they were clearly Marc Jacobs, and a pair could be worth three million rupiahs. Not to mention the necklace and bracelet she wore. Just calculating it made Adel's head spin.

Until Alessa. He stopped sending the lunches the week he met her. Our colleagues noticed. They whispered to me that Adrian had found someone who looked like me at certain angles — same dark hair, same determined eyes, same fire. But where I was ambition and steel, Alessa was chaos and vulnerability. She was listed as one of the top ten richest women in New York, a brilliant architect whose designs shaped skylines. Her on-again, off-again story with Marcus Dela Torre had been tabloid fodder for years — fights, makeups, breakups, reconciliations. I knew that drama well. I had watched it from afar, never imagining it would pull Adrian away from me. Then it did.

The Wi-Fi was slow again, but she typed the name anyway. Alessandro Rossi. Image after image loaded. Sharp jawline. Expensive suits. Cold, piercing eyes that seemed to look straight through the screen. Billionaire. CEO of Rossi Global. Shipping, luxury hotels, casinos, tech investments. Philanthropist, according to the polished articles. New York’s most eligible and untouchable bachelor. But something felt wrong. There were gaps. Years missing from his public story. Photos where his hand rested on another man’s shoulder. A man with the same dead eyes as the debt collectors. Headlines about “alleged ties” that disappeared almost as soon as they appeared.