Novel & Cerita Melissa Moretti

"To anyone who can provide the exact whereabouts of my wife, Alessia, I am offering a reward of ten million dollars. This is not a joke. This is a husband's promise." The video caused an unprecedented stir in the underworld. The Moretti family's power was well-known, and a ten-million-dollar reward was enough to tempt anyone. From the casinos of Las Vegas to the red-light districts of Tokyo, from the bars of Moscow to the alleys of Naples, everyone was talking. "The cold-blooded Don Moretti is crying over a woman?" "Ten million dollars… that's enough to retire on." "They say the woman left the US. Could be in Europe, maybe Asia…"

"Let's have lunch. We will go to your old house after that. I have to show you something." Myra was neither interested in having lunch nor did she want to go anywhere. But reluctantly she went downstairs to have some lunch. There she met Luca's wife for the first time. She was a blonde woman with a genuine smile. Her name was Melissa Moretti. "I thought of paying you a visit but decided to let you settle first at this place. I am sorry for my son's behaviour. But dear he is too protective about his only sister. I have heard about your situation back in India. Remember my child, we women are the creator and destroyer by ourselves. It depends on us whether we wa

- Melissa. - Mom!?

As Melissa stepped out of the hotel, her heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Without wasting a moment, she dialed Zara Watson, her supervisor at BuzzFeed. The phone rang, and Zara's voice echoed through the receiver. "Melissa, what do you have for me? I hope it's a juicy scoop?" Melissa couldn't help but smirk. "Oh, it's definitely spicy, Zara. It involves none other than A-list actress Olivia Hamilton and our very own Mr Ashford."

11 ADRIAN My stomach lurched as I watched Anne sidle up to Annalisa, a sly smile playing on her lips. Annalisa, blissfully unaware, was engrossed in a conversation with Beatrice. A prickle of unease ran down my spine. There was something about Anne’s posture, the way she held the wine glass a little too close to her body, that set off my internal alarm bells.

--- The crash began quietly, an echo of heels on marble. Arielle straightened as the footsteps approached, confident and slow like a verdict being delivered. Then she entered. Tall, Gorgeous, Sharp cheekbones, A dress that dripped wealth and spite in equal measure, walked in like she own the place. Valeria Moretti. Damian’s ex.

Amanda butted in, but Matteo raised a quick hand to stop her. “Thank you Chief Moretti. We will be heading our way now, ” he said, tipping his head in gratitude. He stood from his chair, his elbow touching the desk nameplate of the Chief in the process. The metal nameplate spelled her complete name, Irisha Moretti. The only woman who was able to enter the police force owing it to her strong values in law and quick wit. She was a beautiful woman, in her early forties, looking every bit strict like Julianne Moore in the Hunger Games. She looked polite and easy to approach though with a ready smile on her face.

Etiquettes, series of political studies, histories, and other activities a noble must learn. "Mama..." Rita's small voice made Morrigan halt in her tracks. Her eyes widened at Rita. Rita's small hands reached towards Morrigan's cheeks. "Rita?" Confusion etched in Morrigan's eyes, trying to comprehend what Rita wanted to say. Rita's small hands remained on her face then started to pinch her cheeks lightly. "Mama..." Something within Morrigan swirled. A swirl of joy and confusion. The raw emotion of someone calling her a mother makes her heart swell. She never knew that she wanted it for too long, maybe thought that with the loss of Jabez it might be a long way for her to be a mother. "You wan

A woman was waiting at the top of the steps. Lucia Moretti was fifty-six and looked exactly like what she was, a woman who had spent three decades in a world that ate people alive and had not been eaten. She was elegant in the specific way that old money makes people elegant, effortless on the surface and absolutely calculated underneath. She looked at Ava the way you look at something that has arrived in the wrong room. "Mrs. Moretti," she said, and the title in her mouth sounded like a question she already knew the answer to.

For the rest of the reception,I sat at the head table under looks of pity,curiosity,and careful silence.Not one Moretti elder spoke.We did not fight in front of outsiders.But I knew that by morning,Adrian Vale would be crossed off several important lists. Not because he lacked money,but because he had made a Moretti daughter look like a joke.