Ralph Macchio 80s Novels & Stories

Not when I barely just got my wife to actually smile a few seconds ago. “We have visitors, Alpha.” Donatello said, giving me the silent note that they were listening. “And they are also expecting Luna Sienna…”

“You deserve better. A man who knows what he has before it slips through his fingers.” I laughed then because it was easier than saying thank you. Because it was easier than letting him see the way my heart still cracked when Marco’s name drifted through the air like perfume. The place hadn’t changed. Not really. Eight years since Ralph had “left” the life—retired, exiled, depending on who you asked—and yet, the city still bent at his feet. He had his network. His shadows. His velvet-gloved reach in every crevice of Chicago. The private club we sat in was proof of that.

“Affirmative, sir.” “Excellent,” I responded. “Use that instead and don't do a clean job with it. Make it look like an amateur job. And don't forget the token.” “Got it, sir.” The “token” was sorta like the icing on the cake here. A masterpiece, if you will. Why? Lorenzo “The Ox” Valli was one of Marcello's old-time captains and among the few friends Marcello had. He was a man of tradition, so to speak. A man who still used a vintage 1954 Zippo lighter with a chipped gold-leaf finish.

Roman and Jamie drove speedily into the Salvatore mansion. He had a fierce expression on his face while Jamie had a big smile on her face. There was a row of men dressed in black, standing before the mansion's entrance. Immediately the car stopped, and one of the men rushed forward and opened the car door for Roman. "Welcome, Boss!" He greeted him with a deep bow. His voice was filled with so much enthusiasm and immediately Roman stepped out. The men all bowed, "Welcome back, Boss!" They chorused, in a loud and respectful tone. They had missed the era of Roman as the mafia head.

she adds, making Dad and I chuckle. Alpha Alarick, or Ricky, as we all call him, has a big sweet tooth. He looks like he's always angry as fuck, and he's very serious all the time, but he's a nice guy. He takes his job very seriously and doesn't take a bull from anyone, but he's a sucker for sweet stuff. Don't be fooled by the appearance, everyone thinks he's a menace, and to most who dare to cross the line- he is. But not to us. To us, he's just Ricky. But...If you want to be on his good side, get him a sweet pastry and a good cup of freshly brewed coffee.

But one truth echoed louder than the rest… Whatever war he had just walked away from out there… he had walked straight into another one in here. And I was standing right in the middle of it. “You do realize what you are walking into, Alpha Marcel?” “I do.” He said calmly. “The question is, would you be willing to walk beside me? Because I am willing to give it all…”

'Keep going with that and you can say goodbye to your meeting with Ezio. I grinned. 'You know what's strange?' 'You're gonna tell me.' He brushed the foam off my breasts and rubbed my nipples while at it. 'Mmph… Marco… he's not on the list….' Ralph kissed my nape and sniffed hard. 'You smell fucking good…..' 'Ralph, it's fishy….' He chuckled and kissed along my shoulder. 'I wouldn't call it so unless you're a mermaid.' 'No, I mean.' I turned around to face him. 'I need to look into Marco's spendings. He's in advertising, his spendings would make the list right?'