Godfather Pinky Ring Novels & Stories

Jada jerked her fingers back, shocked by his familiarity with her. “I have a gift for you, Jada,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a small black box. He opened it to reveal a stunning white sapphire circle flanked by four marquee diamonds in a white gold setting like vines. She stared at the ring with awe, but then pushed it gently away. “You don’t have to do this, Mr. DeRoya,” she said, dropping her gaze to her hands in her lap that were now feeling damp.

I slumped against the wall, gasping for air. Dante walked over, but he didn't offer a hand. He pulled a small, silver velvet box from his pocket. He opened it to reveal a signet ring not the Vane gold, but Moretti silver. It featured a wolf’s head with a dagger through its eye. "The Vane ring died in that basement," Dante said, his voice devoid of emotion. "This is the silver brand. It’s what my men wear when they’ve tasted blood and chosen a side." He took my hand. His fingers were steady, his touch oddly gentle compared to the violence of the last hour. He slid the silver band onto my finger. It felt heavy, a cold weight that seemed to anchor me to the floor.

He glanced at me from head to toe before inching a way, closing the door as he went to sleep in another room. Like a calm sea before the fit of the storm, I slowly clenched my fist as I continue to digest his mockery. Provoked and irritated, I furiously removed my veil and other clothing and accessories that reminded me of this nightmare of a marriage. I gazed at the 59.60-carrat pink diamond ring that shackled my finger. “The Pink Star.” It was pink, demure, feminine, elegant, and vulnerable. It was too large and flashy for my fingers. It felt like the gold leash that they usually used on innocent tigers.

“I don’t think anyone in our family is the Godfather’s beloved.” The Consigliere frowned at our strange reactions and replied firmly, “There’s no mistake. Do you remember the charity gala at the Ritz-Carlton? After that event, the Godfather said his beloved was one of the Monroe women.” He picked up the ring and held it out to us with meticulous precision. “This signet ring will definitely fit one of you. Just try it on, and we’ll know.” “My fingers are too thick,” Blair said immediately. The fake heiress—who wanted to marry into power more than anyone—shook her head rapidly and hid her hands behind her back.

But when it actually happened, each time she bought something or the other for herself. Just the last time she won the draw, she bought a gadget that Mr. Jones had not agreed to buy it for her because, to him, it was a waste of money. He did not find it very convincing to buy a touchscreen phone for her when she already had the best phone with buttons. Now that the time was changing and Delilah’s rich friends owned the newly launched touchscreen phone which they did not buy, but their husbands gifted it to them.

"She was a pawn! It's always been you!" "Love?" I started to laugh, but tears streamed down my face. "This is your love?" He let go of my wrist and stumbled back, pulling a velvet box from his suit pocket. Inside was a massive diamond ring, glittering under the lights. "Look, I had this custom-made for you," he said, his voice trembling. "A ten-carat pink diamond. One of a kind." I glanced at the ring, and my heart sank into a pit of ice. The inside of the band was engraved. Not with my initial. It was Fiorella's initial. An ornate 'F'.

Frank and his mannequin peered over Boston’s shoulder. Boston cleared his throat. “El.” He opened the box again and took the ring out, holding it out so I could see it. It was gorgeous and utterly perfect. A simple gold band with a single round cut diamond perched on delicate prongs. “It was my grandmother’s diamond. She was the first one to come out here and settle in wine country.”

I gave him custom cufflinks, each gemstone concealing a microtracker. I made sure to appear everywhere he frequented: private casinos, underground fighting matches, members-only rooftop bars, and so on. Each carefully staged coincidence earned a raised brow and a smile that signaled permission to stay. At last, on a night when he was lightly drunk, he slid a ring onto my finger with casual ease. "So eager to belong to me?" he said. "Fine. As you wish." At that moment, I believed I had won. I believed I had captured the heart of Don Enzo Galante, the most dangerous and dazzling man in the underworld.

Rich people are strange. "It is, if you're conspiring against one of us," Grayson says, obvious referring to the Alpha's in here. By the look in his eyes, he doesn't want to believe the words he says, but he is totally correct in his assumptions. I am here for Alpha Noah of the Harmony Pack. I nod down to his hand on my arm. "I think you should let me go..." Looking at his hand, I suddenly notice something glint around his finger, through the thin fabric of his glove. Is that a ring? My eyes widened...silver.