Novelas y relatos de Don't You Dare Ce Ricci

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.

Behind us, the guests tried to pretend nothing had happened, their laughter forced, their glasses raised too quickly. But the damage was done. The O’Connells’ fury simmered, the Riccis’ unity blazed, and Ciara stood at the center of it all. And I, Matteo Ricci, stood beside her, unyielding. The choice had been made. The war had only just begun.

explained Ricard. Just as Zeline wanted to answer Ricard's words, Zacco had already intervened. "Wait! You — Ricardo F Daniello? Owner of Daniello's Corp? Jeez — Why are you — oh, don't tell me you got in touch with my sister?" Zacco was surprised to find the role model of the businessman of his dreams before his eyes. Not only was Zacco waiting for Ricard's answer, but Cindy was also curious. "Baby Ri, is that true?" said the woman named Cindy.