Emilia Fazzalari Net Worth Novels & Stories

Two million dollars for one year of work. I signed. "Excellent." The woman collected the papers with obvious satisfaction. "My name is Victoria. I am the personal assistant to Eleanora Marchetti, the woman you will be impersonating whenever required." The name hit me like a physical blow to the chest. Eleanora Marchetti was one of the most famous socialites in the world, heir to a shipping fortune, regularly featured in tabloids for her glamorous lifestyle and her notoriously private marriage to tech billionaire Alessandro Marchetti.

I asked, my eyes locked onto Ivan's face. "According to reports," Ivan continued, "Emilia fell ill shortly after the birth of Aria, Anna's real name. She was never seen in the public eye again, and her business empire was managed by her team until her death." I felt a pang of sadness, thinking about the life Emilia must have led. "Is there any information about her family?" I asked, hoping to find some connection to Anna's past. Ivan shook his head. "Unfortunately, there is no information about Emilia's family. However, records indicate that she was of Italian descent, which might explain Anna's Mediterranean features."

Even when she accidentally ran a red light and lost half of her points, he didn't help her erase the record. The Salleri family, though low-key, possessed terrifying wealth. Whether it was the Duke of Salleri or General Caesar, their decision to enter politics was for the sake of the country... Lola closed her eyes to satisfy their ambition and desire for control. Emilia hadn't fully inherited the intentions of the Duke of Salleri. Aside from her unwavering determination to attend military school and become a soldier of the empire, she didn't concern herself with political matters. Her slender fingers flicked through the clothes hanging on the rack, picking out outfits to hold up against Lol

His smile was faint but visible now. “It’s Emilia, Arianna,” Tyler corrected, his arm still possessively around Mila’s waist. “And I think going up without a silver spoon in her mouth made her the woman she is today. Strong, powerful, incredibly stylist, and someone I wouldn’t mind working with. Besides,this is the future of the industry, isn’t it? Combining ethics with luxury. Emilia has always had a knack for seeing things from a unique angle. It’s why her designs are revolutionary.”

~Adrian “What exactly do you want from me?” I asked. And she didn’t hesitate. “I want to marry you.” I blinked repeatedly. Was she insane? “Is this how you usually pick up guys at a bar?” I asked, already getting pissed off. She straightened, seriousness marked into her features. “My name is Emilia,” she said. “I’m twenty-three. I just graduated from college. I make my own money. “I’m super funny,” she said, almost too quickly, like she was nervous but trying not to show it.

Emily blinked and scoffed "Your store? Emilia, you have a store this big? I must say congratulations!" "Yes, success isn't just for one person alone, is it? so, proudly, this supermarket belongs to me." Emilia's smile was cruel. "Every aisle, every shelf, every product. Including that box of cereal you're holding. So I'll say it one more time. Put. It. Back." Emily stared at her. She had known had dug up enough wealth from Carl's pocket after sending helping him divorce her. She knew she had investments in various businesses. But this, a supermarket empire, sprawling and prosperous, was something else entirely.

“You think any of this comes for free, Emilia? Guys like him don’t ‘help’ without wanting something in return.” I felt the corners of my mouth twitch, but I bit back my retort, reminding myself that he was just a protective brother doing what he thought was right. Emilia glanced over at me, perhaps gauging my reaction, but I remained expressionless. There was nothing Matteo could say that would pierce my armor. Let him hurl his insults and accusations. I’d heard worse from better men. “I never said it was for free. I work for him,” Emilia said softly, her voice steady even if her hands trembled slightly. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Someone had messed up the brake pad of her car and she had an accident yesterday. Apart from that, pictures of her are been distributed by these anonymous accounts I can’t seem to trace. There are also a lot of media rumors just to bring her down. You name them.” “And you cannot think of a single person who will benefit from her downfall?” “None that I know of. For one, Emilia is very closed off about her personal life, unless it’s related to you. Sixty percent of the time, I don’t know what she’s onto. She doesn’t just work for me. She works for a different company along side mine and the boss there, she have a sort of personal relationship with me.” It hurt me to admit that out loud but I

Emilia just stared as she listened to what her staff was saying. "He owns the Iloilo factory, Ma'am. He also has some identity among billionaires known in other countries. Isn't Senior William monitoring this? He almost surpassed his father." "Send it to my email, a—I'll take a look." Emilia's body almost softened at what she found out. "I know we have a secret business, son, but I don't know where you got the money for it? The police are looking for you. You can't be caught because I won't let you go to jail."

None of us had left the hospital since the courthouse shooting six hours ago. "The Romano empire for Emma," Elena continued, her voice carrying forty years of building and sacrifice. "I'll sign the papers." James grabbed my hand, his grip weak but urgent. "Bella, no. Tell her no. There's another way." But Elena was already giving Thomas the details, arranging the transfer of everything she'd built since she was thirty years old. Romano Enterprises, the real estate holdings, the charitable foundations, the political connections that had made her one of Seattle's most powerful women.