Alexandra Daddario Ethnicity Novels & Stories

— Maximilian of the Prague Syndicate — Eleonora of the Corsican Triad — Silvio d’Amato of Milan’s bloodline — The Berber Prince of the Maghreb — And Archbishop Valier, the Vatican’s ghost broker Each came armed. Surrounded. Arrogant. Until she arrived. Amara Varela. Dressed in black velvet, no crown on her head — just a pistol at her hip and death in her eyes. She didn’t speak when she entered. She didn’t need to. Eleonora stood first. “Is this your way of proving power? One woman against five?”

It was all down to her, and while there was a part inside her that questioned whether or not she could do this, Dara knew she had no choice and she had to fall back on every single bit of training she'd ever received growing up. Smiling she headed back to the sofa and sat down. "My name is Dara Romanov, and I am one of the Vârcolac. You may have heard of my father and uncle, Alexei and Andrei Romanov?" "We're not that out of touch over here," Joshua remarked with a hint of amusement in his voice though it was clear he was startled by the news. "That's why you were so pleased that I mistook you for a Youngling."

what a name though she taught Just as she was done greeting the guy, Alexandra walked in as the guys started drooling over her too even her long brown hair makes a difference "this girl can be stinking rich, I saw the car she came out from" Alicia spoke silently but her bench mate heard her "you don't know her??" siress asked her as she shook her head negatively "hmmm that's Alexander Bradley twin sister, her name is Alexandra" he spoke and Alicia looked at her doubtfully "uhhhm who is Alexander Bradley?" she asked and siress was surprised "you don't know one of the richest billionaire in this country? You don't know the most coldest mafia lord?? Everybody is scared of him" he said and Alici

Characters Introduction(Inside this chapter):- Alessia Madden(Adira):- She is one and only daughter of Alexander Madden, a future leader of Madden's gang. Even she born as a women her father trained her as a leader, according to her father gender doesn't matter when it's come to leadership. She leave her father when she got to know about her real mother is alive. She fall in love with someone and want a normal life. She like to design cloths and dance. But her lover cheated on her so she leave her everything and start her new life with new name.

Amelia paused for a second, “He’s old?” “No. He should be around his mid-thirties” I correct. “Yeah yeah, Icy blue eyes, nerve-racking physique, why do I feel like I know who you are talking about” Amelia says with a mischievous smile dangling on her lips. My brows furrowed in confusion as I stared at her. She pulled back getting up and picking up her phone from the table. “It has to be Alexandra Di Mario, New York's hottest billionaire. Rumors have it that he’s ruthless, powerful, and has zero relationship records” she informs as she types on her phone.

" I smiled at her, and Alessandro pulled out my chair for me to sit down; I took a quick glance at Alessandro's father, and he gave me a subtle wink. Shit! I ignored his wink. Alessandro sat down in the seat next to me placing his hand on top of mine for reassurance. "Cassandra, this is my mother, Bianca," He spoke, and she leaned her hand out for mine across the table. "Nice to meet you, dear," She spoke in her Italian accent. She was a beautiful woman, I don't get why her husband constantly cheated on her. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your fiancee, my son?" Alessandro's father spoke up, taking a sip of the whiskey he had in his glass.

He wouldn't give in to our threats to expose the dirty cops in his district. "We've got to take it to court. It's the only other option." I tell him with a sigh. "None of those fuckin' pigs would work with us again if we do that," he says with irritation, letting his thick New York accent slide out. The majority of people in the pack house have that accent, mostly descendants of Italian lineage. I don't, my mother doesn't, but Daliah does. My mind effortlessly drifts back to her at the thought of her accent. It's not very noticeable, but when she gets upset or excited about something, it tends to become more prominent.

With that, Amelia rushed off in her red dress and stiletto high heels. I dropped the towel I was using to clean and stormed out of the room where the party was taking place and went outside to the garden where there were very few People hanging out. Yes indeed, my name was Adrianna Richardson, and I was the daughter of Mirthon Richardson, the Alpha of the Mid-East pack. He has two daughters. Me and Amelia. And a son, Steven. Of all three of us siblings, I was the one detested and for no good reason I could say. But I've come to accept that now.

well she knows one english word. “What are you doing in this house?” Another woman appeared in the doorway to the living room. She looked to be in her early twenties, dark brown curly hair pulled back into a pony tail and the typical olive skin. She wasn’t a button of a thing but was still skinnier than me in designer clothes, not like my Target jean shorts and top. And there is nothing wrong with them! I think my ass actually looks good in these. Thank you very much! “Sorry. I’m Ada, Dario said I could stay for a couple of days until I head home.” I reply as the firecracker older Italian woman in front of me stops for a moment, panting with fury.

My jaw clenches. “I’m sure if I was the one that interviewed Isabelle,” I lean back, “I would have known something about her wasn’t adding up.” “Well, you do have a point.” She pouts, giving a shrug. “Turns out her real name was Daria Ross. Daughter of the mafia lord, Von Ross. She also went to Crystal High with y’all. Same grade level.” Oh.