Novel & Cerita Alessandra Ambrosio Net Worth

"We're not teenagers Bella, don't be so upright. Matter of factly, I already told them about you and they would definitely want to see you one of these days." "Really?" I remember nodding, smiling, playing it cool but inside, I was already calculating. Christiana Salazar. Daughter of Giveon Salazar, oil magnate. Heiress to the Salazar name. The girl who dropped $3,200 on a purse like it was a chocolate bar and handed it to me like a birthday favor. Who does that?

The specific kind of beauty that came from generations of wealth and absolutely no apologies. “Nyx Zelene,” the woman said, extending a hand that held enough diamonds to ransom a small country. “I’m Alessia Moretti. I wanted to see for myself what all the fuss was about.” Nyx recognized the name immediately. Moretti family. Old money. Connected to three different crime organizations while maintaining complete legitimacy. The kind of woman who existed in the spaces between worlds because both worlds belonged to her. She shook the hand without smiling. “I wasn’t aware I was being discussed,” Nyx replied.

The fabric shimmered like liquid fire under the boutique lights. Isadora’s breath caught. “Wow…” Alessio looked at her. “Do you like it?” Isadora nodded, a wide, genuine smile breaking across her face. “It’s beautiful. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” “How much?” Alessio asked the assistant. “Ninety-five thousand dollars, sir,” the lady hurriedly replied, but softly. “Swipe it,” Alessio said, handing over the card. Isadora’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. She grabbed his arm. “No! Sir, no! That… that is too much! It’s just a dress!”

I wish he was here to see how far I have gone, I wish he could see that I fulfilled his dying wish. But Mason was right, I make a very good Heiress, and my father will always remain a proud dad because today marks a year since I became CEO of white nova robotics. Nova was my second name, and my dad had made sure to name his achievement after him like he knew one day it would be mine. I looked down at my hands, the diamond ring on my finger sparkled under the light of the stars and moon. It felt heavy because it cost a fortune and Mason had given it to me.

I muttered, wiping at my face and trying to blot out the wine. The door suddenly opened again. I thought it was Julie—but no. Amethyst Ambrose. A singer, model, and the owner of a fashion brand. Famous. Pretty. She leaned casually against the sink, lit a cigarette, and gave me a smirk. “That bitch, huh?” she said, exhaling smoke. “I’m impressed you didn’t punch her. If I were you, I’d have slammed her face into the floor and cleaned up the mess she made.” I gave her a tired look. “Well, I’m not really the type to cause a scene. Accidents happen, Miss Ambrose.”

We'd been apart for only a few hours, but after the incident with Sophia Winters, I found myself craving my mate's presence more than usual. "Dominic has personally pledged significant resources," Charles continued, shooting me a look that said he knew I wasn't fully present. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I excused myself and stepped away from the table to answer. "Alpha," Felix's voice came through clearly. "I have the information you requested about Miss Chase's donation to the charity auction." "Go ahead." "She's contributing several limited edition prints from her private collection, valued at approximately one million dollars." I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. Amb

ALESSANDRO I listened or at least tried to as Mr. Rossi went into stories about his business and how it grew to what it is now. Rossi is the CEO of the most successful jewelry company in Milan. His rags-to-riches story is one I could recite word for word, given how many times I’ve heard it. So has everyone else in the business world. He’s a good and respectable man, which is why I try my best to pay attention, but my mind was elsewhere—particularly on someone.

Elena at charity galas where tickets cost a million dollars each. "This can't be right," Marcus whispered. "She was nobody. A waitress working at some dive bar. I saved her from that life." "You didn't save her from anything. She was hiding." Frank pointed to a document. "See this? Her personal net worth is estimated at forty-seven billion dollars. Billion, with a B. She owns companies you've probably never heard of. Art worth hundreds of millions. Real estate on three continents." Marcus's vision swam. "No. No, this is wrong. I would have known. Someone would have told me."