Novel & Cerita Don't You Dare Ce Ricci

I pushed past Mattia and walked onstage, taking the microphone from the stunned host's hands. I looked down at the pale-faced couple below and smiled. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Catalina Ricci. My Papa is Leonardo Ricci, Don of the Ricci family." Gasps rippled through the crowd. Mattia went rigid. "By the way, Mr. Vitale, I should inform you that five minutes ago, I completed the acquisition of every casino under the Vitale name. So now…" I looked at him and Ginevra, then pointed toward the exit. "Get off my property."

Quick shots ended their lives before they could react. Damian kicked open the steel door, storming into the chamber. There, finally, was Matteo Ricci. Older, but unchanged. The cruel smirk, the arrogant posture, the man who had haunted Damian’s every step. “Well, Damian Cavendish,” Ricci drawled. “You’ve certainly made an entrance.” Damian raised his gun. “It’s over.” Ricci chuckled. “Oh, my dear boy. It was over the moment you made this personal. I warned you. But you never listen.”

Cesare delivered my dinner through the small window in the door right on schedule. Just as he was about to leave, I called out softly, "Cesare!" He seemed to know what I was going to say and answered without hesitation. "Signorina Diamante, Don Ricci is not at the manor today." "It seems Gianna has given you plenty of incentive, but if I die, do you think Fiorenzo won't take his anger out on you?" Then I broke the porcelain plate and slashed at my wrist. Blood poured out, dripping onto the expensive handwoven wool carpet.

] Louisa told him clutching her feather duster like a sword as if it would protect her their words made Ricci frown, ‘Dove cazzo era andata?’ [Where the fuck had she gone?] He thought striding back through the villa puzzled, the other Dons had left straight after the meeting believing the young couple would be ‘busy’ making up after her ordeal and he stood in the large sun-filled lounge scratching his head. Romero came striding toward him, ‘Capo, posso dire una parola?’ [Boss, can I have a word?] Ricardo knew from the tone of his number two’s voice he was not going to like what Romero had to say,

What he's willing to do under my roof. Ricci clears his throat behind me, but I ignore him. Luca doesn't notice. He picks up a sheer shirt from the rack, slipping it on, the fabric clinging to his torso like a second skin. Then he pauses, glancing toward the curtain. I step back just in time, heart steady despite the adrenaline. "Everything alright, Don Rossi?" Ricci asks, voice cautious as I let the curtain fall back into place. "Fine." I turn, face blank. "Show me the control room."

Veronica faced me. “Ricardo.” I froze. “What?” “Tell us about him,” she said. I glanced at Julian, then back at her. How did she know Ricardo? “I don't know any one called Ricardo,” I said. She raised the red card. “If you want to skip, you'll do the dare.”

“Daisy behave. We are also not happy with Ric’s absence but he’s unwilling to see us” Carl said in frustration. Ric is currently staying in Andarc, the place where Rocco is gathering his army. They warned him to come back informing him about Rocco but he still refused to contact them. They don’t know what he’s planning but they won’t tolerate him if he ever crossed the line again. “Lies! You are a lair” Daisy pointed her finger at Carl, her eyes fuming with unhidden rage and hatred. “You finally got what you wanted Carl Roselli”

Ricci really was in his element. “Fakes,” I hissed beneath my breath. Beside me, Ricci chuckled. As if he had been expecting me to work it out. “Took you long enough.” Anger coursed through my veins as I faced him. "You paid them?” my voice was sharp, but Ricci? He looked entirely amused. Like he was surprised that I would ask such a dumb question. “Of course.” His smirk deepened. “We need the world to think we’re madly in love, don’t we?”

Uncle Sal nods and steps aside to make the call. I turn back to the stranger. “I’m sorry, who are you again? I’ve met Gio before. But you?” He steps forward, extending his hand. “Of course. I’m Don Ricci.” Don? I shake his hand, firm grip. “GreenLee Bruco.” He looks me up and down. And I swear—he licks his lips. Then his eyes drop to my chest. Men. Seriously? “Sorry for being late to our meeting, Don Ricci,” I say, keeping it professional. But now that he’s standing in front of me? Damn. He’s like an Italian version of Jensen Ackles. Tall, brooding, and way too attractive for his own good.

Young, arrogant, almost handsome in a greasy, predictable way. "Ambition is dangerous in a woman, Mrs. Grimaldi," Ricci says, winking at her. "It tends to make them difficult." "Difficult?" Eve raises an eyebrow. "Or just harder to control?" "I like a challenge," Ricci says, leaning forward. His eyes drop to her chest, then back to her lips. "Taming a wild horse is more satisfying than riding a broke one." The air at the table shifts. It’s subtle, but sharp.