All Chapters of The Lost Ricci: Heir Back from the Dead: Chapter 71
- Chapter 80
114 chapters
Ch-71: Saving her...
The interior of The Weave of Infinity was a sanctuary of silence and shimmering light. Outside, the "Market of the Gods" buzzed with the news of a sudden, violent acquisition, but inside, the air was still, perfumed with the scent of crushed lilies and ozone. Dante had ordered the massive hydro-glass doors locked, the "Closed" sign glowing with a finality that made the rejected socialites outside whisper in hushed tones.Behind the velvet curtains of the primary fitting suite, Elara stepped into the moonlight dress. The fabric, once guarded like a holy relic by Mistress Vora, now clung to her skin like a cool, living second skin. It shifted from ivory to a deep, celestial violet as she moved, reflecting a grace that had been suppressed for years by the shadow of the Moretti betrayal.Dante stood in the center of the showroom, his silhouette reflected in a dozen mirrors. He looked at the obsidian "Galactic Key" in his palm, the device that had allowed him to dismantle an empire in a si
Ch-72: The Ward
The St. Jude Private Pavilion was less a hospital and more a palace of biological preservation for the city’s most parasitic elites. Built of cold, white marble and reinforced glass, its air was scrubbed to a surgical purity that smelled of expensive ozone and the quiet arrogance of those who believed they could bribe the Reaper. Here, life was not a right; it was a high-yield asset, traded in corridors where the whisper of silk gowns replaced the frantic beeping of monitors found in common wards.Dante stepped through the sliding glass doors, his presence a dark, unyielding shadow against the clinical brilliance of the lobby. He still wore the minimalist black suit from the boutique, a garment that lacked the garish logos of the nouveau riche but possessed a cut that screamed of absolute, old-money authority.At the golden reception desk, Dr. Vane—the Chief of Medicine and a man whose soul had long ago been replaced by a spreadsheet—was bowed in a half-kneel. He was currently fawn
Ch-73: The Debt of the Heart
The air inside Suite 402 was heavy with the scent of sterile lilies and the rhythmic, mechanical sigh of the life-support machines. Selena lay propped against a mountain of white pillows, her frame so slight it seemed the silk sheets might swallow her whole. Her skin was the color of winter moonlight, translucent enough to trace the delicate blue veins beneath, but her eyes—the sharp, dark eyes of a Moretti—burned with a fierce, undimmed intelligence.When Dante stepped into the room, Selena didn't see the brother who had vanished into the rain three years ago. She didn't see the man who had been the punchline of every Bronson joke. She saw a predator.Dante didn't walk; he moved with the unhurried, terrifying weight of a lion reclaiming his territory. The "trash" scent of the retail floors was gone, replaced by the cold, iron fragrance of absolute power."Dante," she whispered, her voice a fragile thread, but her lips curved into a tiny, knowing smile. "You finally stopped hiding
Ch-74: The Sanctuary
The Harrington Estate did not resemble the cold, sterile luxury of the St. Jude Pavilion. It sat atop a jagged cliff at Harbor Point, a fortress of warm cedar and reinforced glass that felt as though it had grown naturally from the earth. The air here was salted by the Atlantic spray and sweetened by the surrounding pine forest—a natural therapy that no high-end hospital could replicate.Dante stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master suite, watching the moon reflect off the waves. Behind him, Selena lay in a specialized medical bed, her breathing deep and even for the first time in years. The "Natural Selection" protocol had begun; the high-frequency stabilizers were flushing the synthetic toxins from her marrow, replacing them with the pure, revitalizing nutrients of the Ricci heritage."The fever broke an hour ago," Elara said, stepping into the room with a tray of herbal tea. Her silk shawl rustled softly against the polished wood floors. "The specialists say her cell
Ch-75: The Ivory Gavel
The Apex Crown Boardroom was situated on the 102nd floor, a space where the walls were made of polarized obsidian and the central table was a thirty-foot slab of rare, white Antarctic marble. For decades, this room had been the playground of men like Pietro Ricci and Leonardo Greco—men who discussed the lives of millions as if they were nothing more than rounding errors in a quarterly report.The air in the room was thick with tension. Twelve of the most powerful directors in the sector sat in high-backed leather chairs, their faces pale, their fingers tapping rhythmically on the marble. They had spent the morning watching their personal stock portfolios bleed red as the "Dante Effect" liquidated the Greco shadow-assets."This is madness," Director Thorne hissed, adjusting his silk tie. "Dante Ricci has been back for a month and he’s already dismantled the Greco distribution network. Now he’s demanding we seat his... his 'sister' as the head of Medical Distribution? A girl who was
Ch-76: Ghost at the Gate
The morning mist clung to Harbor Point like a shroud of white silk, slowly unraveling to reveal the breathtaking transformation of the rugged coastline. What had once been a jagged cliffside—marked by the Syndicate’s surveyors for the foundation of a garish Greco casino—was now a masterpiece of serene landscape. Emerald lawns rolled toward the sea, punctuated by ancient, gnarled oaks and flowerbeds that bloomed in shades of soft lavender and white.At the very heart of the sanctuary, on a gentle rise overlooking the Atlantic, stood the humble grave of Catherine Moretti. She had been a woman of simple means but a heart of infinite depth—the woman who had first spotted a trembling, sickly girl in a cold orphanage and insisted that the Ricci family take her in.Dante stepped out of the matte-black SUV, his presence radiating a cold, sovereign pressure that seemed to still the very wind. He didn't look at the gates; his eyes were fixed on the hill. Beside him, Selena emerged, draped in
Ch-77: The Foreclosure Feast
The Grand ballroom of the St. Regis was a cathedral of desperate opulence. Crystal chandeliers, heavy with the weight of a thousand faux-diamonds, cast a flickering, nervous light over the assembled elite. This was Leonardo Greco’s "Investors Dinner," a frantic attempt to project strength while the foundations of his empire were being liquidated by a phantom.Leonardo stood at the head of the long, banquet table, his charcoal suit pressed so sharply it looked like armor. But beneath the fabric, his shoulders were tight. He was surrounded by the "Old Kings" of the city—men who smelled of tobacco and expensive litigation."Gentlemen," Leonardo said, raising a glass of vintage champagne. "The rumors of Greco Holdings' instability are nothing more than market noise. Today, I am proud to announce a new partnership with an offshore conglomerate—Apex Alpha. With their capital, we will not only reclaim Harbor Point but expand our reach into the pharmaceutical sector."The investors murmur
Ch-78: The Ghost Deed
The neon sign of the "Starlight Motor Inn" flickered with a rhythmic, dying buzz, casting a sickly jaundiced light over the peeling wallpaper of Room 402. Giulia Greco, once the "Jeweled Rose of the West Side," sat on a bed that smelled of damp polyester and cheap cigarettes. A cockroach skittered across the floor; she didn't even have the energy to scream. A sharp rap at the door startled her. Sliding the chain, she found a courier in a black uniform—the obsidian-and-gold crest of the Ricci Trust gleaming on his lapel like a mockery. He handed her a thick, cream-colored envelope and vanished into the shadows of the corridor."A Civil Settlement?" Giulia whispered, her fingers trembling as she tore it open. As she read the terms, a cold, delusional smile spread across her face. The document detailed a modest monthly stipend and the return of her personal jewelry—provided she signed a non-disclosure agreement regarding the Ricci family’s history. "Oh, Dante," she hissed, her eyes gl
Ch-79: Phantom Heir
The lobby of Apex Crown was a fortress of glass and cold ambition. The air smelled of expensive ozone and the silent, terrifying pressure of the Ricci Audit. For Giulia Greco, standing in the center of the atrium, the atmosphere felt like a coronation. She had traded her motel rags for a vintage silk dress—tight enough across her abdomen to suggest a secret, yet loose enough to remain "classy."In her hand, she clutched a leather portfolio containing a grainy, black-and-white ultrasound image. It was her ultimate weapon, the one debt Dante Ricci could never audit away: a bloodline.Behind her stood Dr. Halloway, a man whose medical license was as thin as his moral fiber. For a six-figure promise, he was prepared to swear on his soul that the life growing inside Giulia was the future of the Ricci empire."Tell Mr. Ricci his wife is here," Giulia said to the receptionist, her voice dripping with a poisonous sweetness."Mr. Ricci is expecting you, Ms. Greco," the receptionist replie
Ch-80: Manor’s Mercy
The sky over the Bronson Estate was painted in the shade of a bruised plum, heavy with the scent of ozone and the impending storm of an era in transition. The Bronson Manor, a giant mansion built hundreds of years ago, stood behind iron gates that had, for generations, served as the gatekeepers of the city’s social hierarchy. Today, those gates were wide open, not for a gala, but for the cold, clinical redistribution of power.On the dusty sidewalk, separated from their ancestral home by a thin velvet rope, stood the remnants of the Bronson family. They were a pathetic sight: dressed in the furs and silks of a season gone by, their faces pale under the relentless glare of the afternoon sun. Beside them, Leonardo Greco stood with a manic glint in his eyes, clutching an encrypted satellite phone as if it were a weapon of war."Let them watch," Leonardo hissed, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and desperate adrenaline. "Let the city see. Today, the Grecos don't just survive;