Godfather Pinky Ring Novels & Stories

"I need you to prepare a report for tomorrow's meeting." "Yes, sir," I nodded, trying to keep my voice professional. Liam started explaining what he needed, but when he reached for his coffee mug, my eyes locked onto his right hand. On his pinky finger was a black obsidian and silver ring. It was identical to the one I’d chosen for Lykos. My pen slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor. "What is it?" Liam looked up, his brow furrowed. "N-nothing," I stammered, bending down to get the pen, my heart pounding against my ribs. "It just slipped."

I let out a relieved sigh and a shudder. “Out of curiosity,” I say, cocking my head. “What did you do to the man who poisoned you?” He smiles and extends his hand to my eye level. There's a chalk ring extending around his thick index finger. A boat has been carved into the ring, and inlaid with gold. “I have a full set. Femurs make great jewelry.”

I woke up sore all over, but my fever had miraculously eased a little. Wade stood with his back to me by the window, calmly wiping a silver revolver. He turned around and tossed me a ring. It was the griffin ring, the symbol of honor of the Corleone family. "Take it. No one in Cecile will dare to lay a finger on you," he said. Despite being bare, I got out of bed and hugged his strong waist from behind. "I don't want protection, don. I want Cesare Xandri dead," I said.

“All right. We’re going to continue to detain you so if we catch him, you can identify him. What did the ring look like?” “It has a large ruby in the center with a diamond on either side. The band is gold,” she tells me. I nod, and using the mind-link, I relay the information to Mark, asking him, ‘Is there a pawn shop in Amityville?’ ‘Yeah, there are a ton of them,’ Mark tells me. ‘I’ll send local authorities to speak to all of the pawn shop owners. Maybe good ol’ Rob will try to sell it, and we’ll be able to catch him.’

he pointed to the lion-carved throne behind the Godfather's seat, “belongs to one. And it is eternal.” Then came the relic. An ornate wooden box, velvet-lined, passed by two men dressed in red robes. The Godfather opened it. Inside sat a gold ring. Thick. Heavy. With the same lion emblem carved into its face. The Don's ring. Not just a symbol, but a crown. A signature. A death sentence to those who crossed it. “The man who wears this,” the Godfather said, lifting the ring, “answers to no one, except me, his direct boss.”

He's an asshole when he's in a huge mess like he's right now. I glare at him and turn to leave. " I lost the family's heirloom." Nicholas says at once as i stop on my track. Lost? The diamond ring that I've known all my life? Every single Godfather of this crime family wore that. And since Nicholas is in charge of the mob, my father gave it to him. That cost a fortune and expensive as shit. " What the fuck do you mean?" I ask and walk back to him. " Someone stole it the day I visited the club. A pickpocket."

"Get up, I will help you clean." "Is that a no?" He asked. "I did not say so." I pouted. "You are hurting, please don't kneel for long." "Baby," He pulled his hand off and began taking off a ring on his pinky finger. I knew it was his identity ring, the ring that only the mob boss would wear, but what I didn't understand was why he was removing it. It was something he was not supposed to take off unless giving it to the heir.

But looking more at the photo, I noticed that the man on the right seems to look like Antonio’s father, at least from the pictures I've seen of him. But something about the man on the left bothered me, his eyes, his smile, everything about him tugged at something in me, a flicker, or a whisper of memory Then I saw it, in his left hand he wore a ring, it was silver, thick and had a knot-like design. I stared at it for a long time, the ring was identical to mine. I looked down at my own hand, the ring I’d worn for as long as I could remember sat snugly on my finger. Pietro had never been able to explain where it came from.

He unveiled it. Gasp. Even Serenity, who was a jewelry designer herself, held her breath. On the tray sat three diamond rings. But the one in the center was blinding. It was a massive, pink pear-shaped diamond, easily over 10 carats, surrounded by flawless white diamonds. It wasn't just a ring. It was a continent on a finger. "This is the 'Pink Star'," the manager explained, his hands trembling with excitement. "Mr. Sterling reserved this specifically for you."

“Left hand.” I held it up between us, and Declan slipped the gold ring onto my ring finger. It had a faint pink sheen to it, some kind of rose gold, and an even fainter tracery. Something Irish. I fell in love with it instantly, and I knew I’d be driving every member of the casino’s staff nuts showing it to literally everyone, sometimes twice to make sure I hadn’t missed anyone. “I’ll put mine on later,” Declan said. “I can’t reach it from here.”