Godfather Pinky Ring Novels & Stories

The most powerful billionaire in the New York shipping industry, a man who had never bowed to a single board director or corporate rival in his life, was looking up at me with absolute vulnerability in his eyes. He opened the box. Resting on the white silk inside was an exquisite, vintage platinum ring. A massive, flawless emerald-cut diamond sat in the center, flanked by two delicate baguette diamonds that caught the firelight perfectly. It was his grandmother’s real engagement ring—the one Charles Castellano had never been allowed to give to Evelyn Mariel.

I saw the ring on finger, the one that symbolized her position as Madre of the mafia family. Once, Fiorenzo had slipped that same ring onto my finger. For a moment, my blood felt like it had frozen solid. Fiorenzo spoke in his usual tone. "Go sit down." I sat down stiffly and lifted my teacup, draining it in one gulp. Instantly, scalding water tore down my throat. A flash of satisfaction crossed Gianna's face before she put on a helpless expression. "Does it taste bad? But Fiorenzo said you would like it."

“I’ll personally introduce you to my other cousins. They’re the ones tracking Alfio and his sons’ activities in Greece, which I believe I’ve already told you. What else?” “Mad Man holds the Buffalo and Yonkers operations. Soon Phoenix will organize an underground auction, and he is sending them an invitation. We will lure the bad cousin since I think we have items he’ll hardly resist, thanks to the information you sent us.” “It’s from the twins. Which item?” “It’s the rare Pink Star diamond necklace stolen from an A-list celebrity and a sixty-carat diamond ring once owned by a wife of the Earl of Monmouth in the 1860s.”

"The plan is too aggressive. It'll attract the Feds. Isabella, your decision is impulsive." He used my first name, his tone dripping with the condescension of an elder who thought he knew better. The air in the room froze. All eyes turned to me. I didn't say a word. I just lifted my gaze to meet his, and then slowly, deliberately, began to turn the heavy gold ring on my finger. My father's ring. My ring. The color drained from Gambino's face. A sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. He broke my gaze and lowered his proud head.

It was a fifteen-carat ring with a pink square diamond at its centre. I handed the box to Vincent, who admired the ring as he nodded his approval. "Not too bad," he answered. This was the first approving thing he had said so far. "But, you could have gone bigger. You know how we do things in our family?" He commented as he handed the box back to me.

"Finally." I raised a brow. "What happened?" She held up her left hand. Bare. The fingers, usually adorned with at least one antique ring or designer band, were naked. Her voice dropped to something like disbelief. "It's gone. My ring." I blinked. "Which ring?" "The pink diamond, Lawrence. The one your father gave me when we got engaged. The Argyle diamond. Do you think I'd misplace that?" She gestured toward the vanity across the room, where a marble tray was supposed to sit beside the mirror. But it wasn't there. Just perfectly aligned cologne bottles and towels so tightly rolled it looked like they had never been touched.

My finger still smarts, the stinging giving way to swelling around the metal he placed on, knowing it would never be removed again. For some reason unknown to me, I feel somewhat honoured he would give me a ring I had always fantasised about owning and in the face of admitting that he would never let me go by ensuring the ring would never leave my body again unless I were dead and they severed my finger to claim back the heirloom that now belongs on my ring finger. I hadn't known his grandfather designed the ring to hurt the one he loved. I hadn't expected that, but it doesn't seem unsurprising. Men in the mafia seem to have dark souls and even darker intentions.

She had taken the oath and the ritual would be over once her father gave her the ring Every Capo wore since the establishment of Cosa Nostra. The ring which passed from her great-grandfather to her grandfather and from him to her father and now the ring was going to illuminate her thumb. But before that Aria needed to warn all these soldiers in a way they had not been warned before. Aaron pulled out the ring from his pocket as it was made for Aria's size. He stepped forward and took Aria's bloodied hand in his. His eyes went to the tattoo on her wrist. Aria's eyes went to it again, her heart once again felt a pinching sensation, her heartbeat raced in her chest.

Alex moved away, her dark eyes circling with something close to excitement as she said, "Then make it worth it, little prince," Paris still had his frown on, his eyes staring down to look at her, before pausing at the crescent tattoo around her collarbone, an eyebrow of his raising. "Where did you get that?" "A tattoo shop," She replied curtly then nudged her head towards the sun ring on his finger. "And where did you get that ring?" "My godfather gave it to me." He replied in the same tone she did. "Hmm," Was all she said before asking, "So deal?"

My eyes darted over to scan the back of Gotham's head, and as if he was watching me all this while, he met my eyes through the mirror in between the driver and passenger's seats. I thrust the hand that housed the ring forward and showed it to him, "What's this?" I asked, and the jeep came to an abrupt halt. He took my hand with a serious expression on his face and gasped, "This ring has been missing for close to fifteen years. It was Dashiell's mother, Vivica's ring," Confusion was written all over my countenance as I heard that, "Soñar gave me this ring," I answered. "Does Mr Blackwood know?"