Novel & Cerita Bianca D'alessio Father

"Lulu, can you step out for a moment?" I blinked. "Why?" "It's business." "I'm your wife. I can listen." "No." "I'm not leaving, Ale." Alexandro sighed. He looked at Damien. Damien shrugged, as if to say, "Up to you." "I heard news about Matteo Bianchi," Damien said. I was shocked. That name. Matteo Bianchi. The same name as my father's. My father who had died. My father who died in a car accident when I was little.

He gave me a small hug and turned back towards Alessandro. "Thanks for saving Bianca." He said. We got into our cars while I put my jacket on his back to control the bleeding. Alessandro was sitting a little hunched, but he wasn't grunting from the pain or anything. "Bianca we have to talk about Matteo." Dad said putting his phone aside and looking straight into my eyes. Alessandro looked bored ready to get out of the car as soon as possible. "Dad I don't want to marry him. He only wants to take your place." I rolled my eyes.

"Vittoria, no, you don’t get the point. I am Alora Marino, yes. And Luciano is Luciano Marino. Our father is Gustavo. Alex Gustavo Marino. The Don of the American Mafia." He controls more of South America than the North. That’s why Dante has this much power even though he's not based in Italy. Vittoria froze, almost as if she wasn’t breathing. "Vittoria," I tapped her, but she didn’t shake, not even blinking. "Vittoria..." "Vittoria, come on, snap out of it. Hey." I snapped my fingers in front of her face. "Oh my God, Alora, do you know what that means? Bianca’s father is Dante’s friend. Compared to the American Mafia, he wants every one of them dead."

“I’ll keep it short because Alessio is getting tired again." “No, he isn’t,” I said, giving Alessio a light elbow, feeling bad for the way he was treating his dad. I would’ve wished for my dad to tell me stories like these, especially if they were inspiring. A family that came from nothing and built something. “Please, don’t stop. I want to hear everything.” Domenico’s eyes sparked as I told him to continue. “My father’s name was also Alessio,” he began. “Alessio Fanucci.”

“Tell me… did you come to Germany hoping to win some lottery when you found out your father..Dominic Moretti... is one of the richest men here?” Bianca shook her head faintly, her breath uneven. “I had no idea who he was… my father was never someone I cared to look for. I didn’t come to Germany on my own,” she said, her voice tightening as her mind almost drifted back to the kidnapping that had brought her here.

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

"That's Marco Moretti-your father. And the man next to him... that's Victor Romano. Alessio's uncle." I stared at the photo, my mind racing. "What does this mean?" She shook her head, her expression grim. "I can't tell you everything. Not yet. But you need to know this: your father and Victor were involved in something... something that got Victor killed. And Alessio's been hunting for the truth ever since." I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. Was my father involved in a murder? It didn't seem possible. And yet, the evidence was right in front of me.

Alessa Sullivan I couldn’t sleep last night; I kept trying to find a solution to what I felt about being with Mattia. When I chose a stranger to be my first man, I had no idea that this man would turn out to be the father of my best friend, and now my feelings are so mixed up. The request to be with him, if just a casual affair, distracted me from my real focus. The death of my parents is the reason I practically received a lifelong scholarship for my studies as long as I maintain average grades. And here I am, thinking about being involved with a man twenty years older, a Republican, and Giulia’s father.

Elio held our son, tucking the badge coiled with the black mamba into his swaddling. "From today, he is my sole heir." Cheers erupted, but the guests whispered in awe. "This Donna is legendary… ruling the Rossi family herself, and she's Elio Massimo's Donna too…" "Tsk," another sneered. "Heard the old Don Rossi shot himself. And Don Colombo… was found dead at the docks this morning. Enemy work, probably." In a corner of the hall, my consigliere quietly handed me a letter. "Madre… Don Colombo's final note."

“With international travels? Those are just spare change for him. You should have asked for more.” “I don’t know what else to ask for, though.” “Ask for a house and lot, some branded clothes, bags, expensive cars, jewelry, everything.” I laugh at his suggestions, and he scowls. “I already have those. Although, just the cheap models.” “Are you aware that my father is a billionaire?” “I have an idea that he’s rich.” “He is super rich, Cassie. But I haven’t seen him shower you with it.” This time, I heartily laugh. “I am enjoying my time with you and your father, Lukas.” I lean close to him and whisper, “I think I am the most relaxed and happy right now.”