Novel & Cerita Lucrecia Élite

"Uhm, Lyrica… can we talk?" "Of course, Lucian. We're already talking." We moved to the living room and sat down. "What do you want to talk about?" I asked curiously. "I want to offer you something, Lyrica. I don’t want to offend you, but you’re the only one who can help me, so I’m asking you now. My grandfather wants me to get married before he gives me half of my inheritance. I’m planning to expand my business, and I need a large amount of money for that to happen."

Lucia muttered under her breath, her voice shaking with emotion. "He has all the money and fame, and he uses it to manipulate people, to turn them to his side. Meanwhile, people like me are left to suffer alone. He tried to bribe me with that money, but he sure has his way of sweet-talking out of trouble." Lucia’s voice cracked as she spoke, her anger mingling with the sadness she carried within her. The injustice of it all seemed unbearable as she thought about her poor background, the struggles she had faced, and how little had changed despite her efforts.

He's trying not to show a look of disappointment with the rest of the effort. "If it's true, what will you do?, Take him away from me? Hahaha," Lucrecia laughs sarcastically, then in the next moment she changes her face with no expression. "I know you're not a foolish, with or without relationship between you and my son won't change anything. For what it's mine, will always be mine, you do know that!" Lucrecia clarifies without any hesitation or fear. Yeah, a young CEO mentally tough, let alone she's a woman. She has to be truly strong. Including dealing with the past.

Bianca sobered immediately, looking really serious. ' I didn't come here to beg neither did i come here to apologize ' Lucy stared at her not getting her point. ' Why exactly are you here ?' ' I'm only here to talk some sense into you. How do you feel now that Richard is getting married to Scarlett?' this statement infuriated Lucy, she raised her head and threw bianca a murderous look, which bianca returned with a stern look. ' Please don't give me that look, i asked you a simple question, just give me an answer'

“I know a lot of things.” “Like?” Matteo demanded. She finally looked at him. Really looked. Her gaze was cool, assessing, unimpressed. “Like how many shell companies Luca De Santis uses to launder his weapons profits,” she said. “Like which judges owe him favors and which ones are quietly building exits. Like how long before his liquidity collapses if the right accounts freeze.” Matteo went still. Elena turned back to me. “And I know exactly how to break him without firing a single bullet.”

There was something broken in his eyes—no longer cold, but cracked open wide with the weight of every secret, every betrayal, every scar that came before her. Sera leaned in, resting her forehead against his. “Then we go together.” He kissed her—slow and deep, not with urgency, but with something more dangerous: permanence. They spent the next hour reviewing every file Dario had passed along. He had been right—Lucrezia’s reach ran deeper than either of them realized. Judges. Law enforcement. Financial puppets in foreign banks. Politicians funded with blood money. She was building an empire beneath the ashes of the old one, and the foundation was almost finished.

Lucia sipped, setting the glass neatly down along the table’s edge—a ritual for those who sign bogus bills of lading. “We have Novazene,” I said. “We have Δ-12. We have Malta. And we have your fingerprints on a container door.” “You have a few pieces of paper,” she countered. “And the drive,” I said. She glanced at my pocket. “Which you’ll lose if you’re careless,” she warned. “And you’ll be careless if you think paper moves budgets.” “Then help us move the real figures on the board,” Elky said. Lucia placed her palm flat on the folder. As the scarf slid aside, it revealed a faint scar on her wrist—a secret paid for dearly. “And why would I do that?” she asked. “Because you’re my son? I love

And there he was. Lorenzo Matteo Illustre. Even more striking in person — tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp, assessing eyes. “Who are you?” His voice was deep and cold. “I’m Luciana Bautista. The house you bought belonged to my family. Please, Mr. Illustre… don’t take it from us. Give us time. I’ll pay you back. Every cent. Please.” He leaned back, studying me. “The Bautista house. I didn’t expect the owner to come here herself.”

“Margarette is a funny sort, isn’t she?” “Yeah.” She laughed too, “Margarette, you’re sensing the wrong vibrations. I’m just curious. Who is that woman Finrod’s with?” “You don’t know her?” Caeruleus was surprised. “She’s Queen Aera, the Queen of the elves and the sister of Prince Finrod.” She flustered. Why didn’t she see the resemblance? Now when she looked at them, she realized they had remarkably similar faces. “Come. Let’s pay our respects.” Margarette pulled them both.

The woman stood near the elevators, unmistakable even years later – composed, sharp-eyed, and quietly formidable. Lucia had once been deeply embedded in Alessandro’s professional past. Elara knew that. They’d never met. “Elara De Luca,” Lucia said, offering a polite smile. “We haven’t been introduced.” “I know who you are,” Elara replied evenly. “I imagine you do,” Lucia said. “I won’t take much of your time.” She glanced around, then leaned slightly closer. “You’re being considered for something international,” Lucia said. Elara’s expression didn’t change, but her attention sharpened.