Aot Niccolo Romane & Geschichten

I couldn’t tell them what actually happened without looking absolutely insane. “Hey, let me start,” Niccolò said with a patient smile. “I’m what people call intuitive. The name is fairly self-explanatory. It’s my gift even if it feels like a curse sometimes. There is always a reason for it. I was led to the diner today and knew that it somehow involved you the moment that I intervened with the fucker. I was then led to where we intercepted the vehicle. I was surprised to find you in there, but I was insanely glad that we got you away from them. I know that you don’t have to trust us, but I swear to you that we have no ill will towards you. We’ve dealt with assholes like them before and stopp

He is wearing a miniature linen shirt and dark trousers, though the shirt is already untucked from his latest escape attempt. A fond, exasperated smile pulls at my lips. Moving away from the desk, my attention shifts entirely to the tiny tyrant currently commanding the room. "Did you give Uncle Enzo the slip again, Nico?" Nicolò marches directly toward the desk, entirely unbothered by the fact that he just evaded a highly trained tactical guard. "Up," Nicolò demands, raising both of his arms toward me. There is no request in his tone. It is a direct order.

Ann admitted. Holly sighed in defeat. "Yeah, I'm nearly done." Ann nodded with a smile. "I want to show you something," Ann said. "Come on." she took Holly's hand and led her towards town. -------- "Isn't that...?" Holly asked hesitantly. They were in the shopping centre, people milling around, some carrying bags. The two girls stood in front of a shop decorated to look like an elves workshop, a big red arrow pointing to the entrance. "Santa's Grotto." Ann stated the obvious.

“You threaten…” “Alessandro, Dante, that is fucking enough.” Nicholas said, stopping the two men. “That is, of course, unless you really do want to make the Lycan’s job easier…”

“What I don’t know are the details beneath the surface. And that’s what I want from you.” He leaned against the counter, fingers drumming lazily, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Straight to the point. Always. Cold as marble, but you know…” he tilted his head, smirking, “…I think I like you better that way. Cuts sharper than a smile.” I ignored the bait. “If you can tell me who the Russian boss is, the one Marcini was dealing with, I’m willing to get down on my knees for it.” Nico stilled for a moment, then let out a low, delighted laugh. “Now that,” he said, voice thick with mock reverence, “is an image worth chasing. My ice queen, on her knees. Almost makes me want to drag the answer out

A loud knock shattered the tension in the study. Ainara flinched, nearly falling off Andres’s lap as she tried to dodge his probing questions. Her heart pounded, and before she could completely fall apart, the door opened. “Ate,” Santino’s voice called as he peeked in, “I came back to get some files. Julie needs them for Kuya Nico.” Ainara was already standing and near the door. “Nico?” Andres asked. “Yeah. Kuya Nico is Julie’s cousin. He’s renovating his house and asked Ate for help.”

I pushed the food few meters away from me and settled back comfortably. "Laurel Niccolo sent you to get me. God! For a huge man such as yourself, I expected better." I began my little talks. His eyes glanced at me before he went back to his job. Arranging what? I didn't know. "I had thought men like you worked for big men with better reason and not jealousy." I rolled my eyes. "The Niccolo's are known for having the best weapons.' Came his Curt response. "Best weapons?" I snorted. You should definitely meet L'Angelo and not this little children that just popped out of nowhere.

I take another sip from the cigar before speaking to him “Dario, do you know why you are here?” He swallowed hard “Mr. Lucado, I …..” I laughed at his formal approach. “Mr. Lucado? Although this might work well with my father, but not me. I’m Nickolai, remember. Everyone calls me Nickolai. Do I have to rip out a tooth to remind you of my name? Tiny beads of sweat emerge from his forehead roll down his temple tracing the line of his mustache. His lips trembles as he spoke “I apologize Don Nickolai. It’s a mistake. I didn’t mean….” I raise my hand to silence him. “I’ll just ask you one question. Who are your accomplices?”

I brought it up again and I’m not stopping until he gives me his name. “I’m Angelo.”

“He’s been having some problems with the kids at school and… not having a father. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea or get his hopes up.” My heart that was soaring now crashes. I forgot how cruel little kids can be at times. I draw my hand towards her cheek and stroke it gently. “I understand,” I respond in Italian. “I won’t give him any reason to think we’re more than friends unless you really want him to know.” She seems relieved. “Thank you, Nero,” she says and I take the plates from her and walk to the dinner table. As we eat dinner, I make a point to include Nereo in the conversation. He’s a bright kid, full of energy and curiosity. It’s not long before we’re talking about soccer,