Rico The Giant Novels & Stories

A quick glance through the peephole made him relax slightly, though his expression remained guarded. The man who entered was enormous, easily six and a half feet tall with the build of someone who had spent years moving heavy objects. His barrel chest strained against an expensive suit, and a thick beard covered most of his weathered face. Despite his intimidating size, his dark eyes held a warm intelligence that immediately put me at ease. "Salvatore, fratello mio!" "Ruggero," Salvatore replied. "You're early." The giant's attention immediately shifted to me, his weathered face breaking into a delighted grin. "And who is this vision of loveliness? Surely this is Persephone herself, stolen f

A human? On the deck of the Giant Whale, the greatest of Umbracia's four Lords of War stood imposingly. Known as the Giant Whale Lord of War, he towered over two meters tall, his hands gripping a deep blue steel trident, his figure clad in gleaming sky-blue battle armor. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, eyes alight with a fierce glow. Indeed, it was a human. The Lord of War, the mightiest and youngest of his era, the very man who had sparked this monumental conflict, Alexander!

"Ah, I see you've noticed my son there." "Yes sir. He's quite the giant if I say so myself." Poor Mr. Armanio almost choked on his water. He cleaned the water on his mouth with a handkerchief and said, "Well, that was blunt." Just then, the giant turned around and glared at me. He had ocean blue eyes, a stubble, a sharp jaw, perfectly thick arched eyebrows and a straight sharp nose. I had to give him credit for his looks, but he didn't faze me. Well, maybe a little. Okay let's be honest. He looks like a Greek God.

The serene sight helped ground me, a temporary balm for the anger that never really left me. There was a brief pause, and I could practically see the grin spreading across his face. "Da. You could say that." Interest piqued, I leaned forward, fingers drumming on the sleek surface of the table. "And that would be?" "Oh, I managed to get our slippery friend to see reason." Roman's voice oozed with pride. "You remember Giovanni 'The Viper' Ricci, don't you?" I chuckled as an image of the ostentatious gang leader sprang to mind. Ricci, known for his love of venomous snakes and treacherous alliances, hadn't earned his nickname lightly.

He straightened slowly and turned to face the room, his chest rising and falling as he fought to steady himself. “I’m not getting weak,” he said lowly. “And I’m not letting a whore cloud my judgment.” His eyes moved from one face to the other. “In case any of you are forgetting, I am Rico De Romano. Capo of the Five Territories. Head of I Sette.” The words weren’t just for them. They sounded like a reminder to himself most of all. He spared Valentina a brief, cold look as she remained on the floor, still coughing. Then his gaze returned to Ezio and Sandro.

I said, turning my laptop off “we have a lot to do this afternoon” *********************************** “Dante, you know that my respect for your family is endless, but these plans are not ones that would work. If anything, we might lose more than we would ever gain” Mikhail Baryshnikov said, looking at me. This man in specific was one of the oldest investors and partners of the family. He was also one of the men who encouraged Giovanni into dropping his family to build a bigger empire.

She sits back down on the couch and gives us a small wave of goodbye, I open the door but as I open it, I saw a tall figure dressed in all black and a visible snake tattoo trailing up his neck the fucker that works for Alessandro's dad. Before Alessandro could pull out his gun, the fucker pulls out his own and a sudden sharp pain flows throughout my body before darkness clouds my eyes. shittttt.......... (Just to refresh your memory snake tattoo guy is the one who carried Cassandra to that torture room when she was kidnapped by Isabella)

A massive bronze statue appeared in front of them. The statue stood nearly twenty meters tall. A massive bronze turtle sat below it, and a lifelike Scylla sat above it. That turtle was the black cooter, a mystical creature that also happened to be the god of the Iron family.

“YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO, YOU TRUNK OF A MAN!” A low, sinister chuckle leaves his lips at my lame insult, his wide shoulders shaking slowly at the motion. “My name is Santino Ricca.”

It was good-natured banter, something I hadn’t experienced in the Vitale versus Ferrante conversations. “You knew him, I take it?” I asked Luca as we left the room. Luca nodded. “He was a grade above me. Most of the guys idolized him. It was back then people started calling him la Bestia, before the scar.” Our pace was slow, meandering, allowing us time to talk. Hearing it from another point of view just intensified how horrifically he’d been treated. “Why was he idolized?” I asked, desperate to hear more, to know more about the man who owned me more with each passing day.