Alessia Cara Parents Novels & Stories

“You sound like you already own her.” I leaned back, lifting the beer to my lips. “I will.” I was halfway through my second beer and halfway bored of pretending to give a shit about Fabio's story about crashing his uncle’s Porsche when I heard the click of heels on stone. I looked up and there she was. Alessia Capone. Her mother was walking beside her. One hand rested on her daughter’s lower back, steering her like a racehorse being shown off before auction. And Alessia looked pissed.

Carol only knew that she was originally known as Caroline Rockefeller. Her real mother was Fiona Fritzgerald, and her real father was Easton Rockefeller. They had lived in an urban village in the east of Northvale. When she was ten, her parents died in a car crash. At that time, the Fritzgerald family came to the hospital with Aster, and it was only then that Carol learned that Fiona was Aster’s aunt, and she was the only granddaughter of the Fritzgerald family. Aster was her cousin.

Tiziana watched her and said nothing more. Adelina wasted no time. Within two days of making her decision about Alessia Shaw, she had already extended the invitation, confirmed the date, and briefed the housekeeper on dinner arrangements. Alessia came from an academic family. Both parents were respected scholars, and Alessia herself taught at a university. She was composed, well-mannered, and had the kind of quiet warmth that made rooms feel steadier. Adelina had done her research carefully.

Alessia complained, shuddering at the lewd and hateful gazes she was receiving. "I wouldn't blame them, Alessia" Sophia chimed, barely fazed by the looks, "You look hot, I could fall in love with you, you know" she teased. Alessia was an exotic beauty—a blend of her mother Rosa's Grecian lineage and her father Antonio's Italian heritage. Her honey-coloured eyes, framed by long, fluttering lashes, glimmered with mischief and allure. A heart-shaped face and sharp jawline adorned with a smattering of freckles added a hint of innocence to her exotic looks. Her luscious, obsidian-dark curls bounced with every step, teasingly revealing the curve of her neck. And her lips—plump and cherry-pink—curv

Just as Aries was about to hang up, he heard him again. “I have all the information, Mr. Grayson. Cara Silencio. Age twenty-four. Studied at Cross Heart Higher Secondary School in Miami. Her father was a soldier, and he died during the war. Her mother absconded with her boyfriend, leaving her stranded in the rented house. She was brought up in an orphanage, and six years ago, she journeyed to New York for her friend’s birthday and never came back to Miami.” “Okay. I appreciate the thorough background investigation.” Aries said. “Where is Cara?”

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

“What about the file?” Cara looked at her, hesitation in her eyes. “The file… Mum doesn’t know I’m dating him. I met him at a shoot. He's a model too. Mum doesn’t want me dating anyone right now. I told him, and I… I was going to give him Mum’s secret file to blackmail her, just to make her let us date.” Sara’s mouth went dry. Who even thinks to do that to their own mother? But she kept her expression calm.

“It means kisses! My God!, Alessia, you…” “Exactly,” I said, cutting her off. “Do you really want me accidentally telling my future husband I’m craving carbs instead of affection?” That earned me a faint slap on the cheek. Not hard, just the Italian version of Behave, or else!!! “Alessia,” she said slowly, “do not make me come to Italia to bring you home myself.” I rubbed my cheek and gave her my sweetest smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Dad gave me one of his one-nod verdicts,conversation over,so I rolled my suitcase up the steps and into the jet.

I asked her. " Yep , Carlos and I have discussed about that and we are naming her after you which will be Alyssa steve ,sounds nice right?" " she said excitedly. "Shut up ...you are kidding me right ,wow I'm flattered after all " I smiled. " Look Alyssa I love you and when you need help never think twice before you voice out too me okay even when it comes to getting a new job I will be there to get you one "she said with great passion and I blushed.

Alessia's shoulders slumped as she heard, two more guards came in from the other elevator. She was grounded, she turned and went back to the couch, this wasn't what she wanted. She should have jumped off the bridge when she had the chance. Not this, not watching her life being aired on national television and not without her best friend, Lisa. She hadn't even told Lisa yet, her best friend since the time she dropped out of college. Alessia never knew her dad, her mum always called him a deadbeat and that was until four years ago, when her mum died; the doctor said it was heart failure but she always knew that was a lie.