Alessandra Gucci Novels & Stories

Alexis said still smiling. “It is so easy for me to spot you, no matter your facade.” Jude said once again. Alexis was dressed in a sundress gown, the sundress had the pattern of flower, and the background was white, she also wore a sunhat on her head too, on her lips were black, she clearly had painted black, a little touch of mascara was also on her eyelids too, her eyelashes were also black too, she must have use a black lead on them.

Almost as much as I did. Almost. I’ve seen women from every corner of the world—models, actresses, princesses… hell, even the ones who paid for perfection. But Alessandra? She ruined the scale. They wouldn't even come close. I could look at her. I could stand near her. Hell, I could be her shadow and she’d never know. But I wasn’t allowed to touch. I wasn’t allowed to want. She was a Butterfly. Beautiful, Elegant , untouchable, impossible to catch without breaking something.

For a breathless moment, the world went still and then Alessia stepped inside. Her arm was linked with Allegra’s, mother and daughter moving as one. Alessia, God, she stole the air straight out of my lungs. Her gown was ivory, with a halter neckline wrapped high at her throat before falling open into a deep plunge. The waist was cinched with a knot of fabric, and her back was bare, all the way down, and it was framed only by the way the halter tied at her nape, a spill of silk falling like a ribbon down her spine. The train followed her in a clean, unbroken line, whispering across the stone floor.

It’s only right that I do something to show her just how much she means to me. So, with that thought in mind, I make my way to one of the most luxurious stores in the city. It’s a place where every item speaks of elegance and sophistication, much like Alessandra herself. I browse through the collections, selecting a few exquisite pieces—a handbag that exudes class, a pair of shoes that scream elegance, and a dress that compliments her luxurious style. Each item is carefully chosen, not just for its beauty but also for the way it will enhance her already impeccable fashion sense. Alessandra has always had an eye for the finer things, and I want her to have the best.

They look casual and relaxed and more accustomed to this heat than me in matching cream coloured summer wear. Alessandra has her dark hair swirled on top of her head in a sleek bun and a loose-fitting dress that grazes the floor as she walks, with a peek of sandals below. Gino is in a white tee and cream shorts over flip flops and looks more like a guy on a summer holiday.

*** Upper East Side, Manhattan Alessandra "Are you serious? I can really have anything I want?" Tori asked for the umpteenth time, her wide grin and wild, excited look in her eyes making me chuckle in absolute amusement. I was not surprised by her reaction. Like me, she was a shopping fanatic and having her pick anything she wanted from the Designer store we were now in was like a dream come true.

At the center of it all stood Lucien and Alessia. Alessia wore a breathtaking, floor-length emerald-green silk gown that hugged her growing figure with quiet grace. Her dark hair was swept up into an intricate braided chignon, framing her face, which glowed with a natural, radiant warmth. Every time someone approached to offer congratulations, she smiled gently, her hand resting softly against her abdomen.

The Grand Ballroom of the Chateau de Verre in Geneva was a shimmering sea of silk, diamonds, and unspoken death threats. High-definition security cameras swept the room from vaulted ceilings, and a small army of private security contractors kept watch as the world's criminal elite drank champagne. The heavy oak doors opened, and a sudden, sharp silence ripples across the room. Alessia Moretti stepped inside. She was a vision of absolute sovereignty, wearing a sleek, midnight-blue silk tuxedo with velvet lapels, her dark hair slicked back into an impeccable, sharp style. Her posture was unyielding, her dark eyes commanding the space instantly.

She muttered, the ethereal and unique beauty of the dress finally making sense. Greta is going to shit her pants off the second she hears of this. Holy shit! Victoria Guerriero is a famous designer that only makes custom-made clothes for the world’s biggest personalities. They were her models and she didn’t need runway models to showcase her work and even with that, she was still well sought. “I don’t think I can wear this…” Halle voiced out while staring at the dress with an astonished gaze. “You’d think the woman he chooses would be up to his standards…” Halle heard June mumble.

I give Alessia a brief nod without meeting her eyes, but her perfume still reaches me. Soft florals mixed with something darker. She looks radiant, dressed in a pink-and-pastel dress with white heels, hair curled and cascading over one shoulder. I don’t dare look at her face. Not with him standing right there. “Back to work already, Mr. Rossi?” Alessandro asks. I meet his gaze. Rage flares under my skin, but I shove it down. I swallow the urge to grab him by the throat and demand answers. “Yes.” I reply evenly.