Aot Niccolo Novels & Stories

But over the years, Nic started to realize that the work that his old man was dabbling in would have caused him to be one of the guys Sonny and Rico would have tried to lock up. Nic's father, Nicolas Andretti III, was a tall, dry man from the old country. He was born and raised in Italy, and believed in the principles of his home country. At fifteen, he traveled over to the United States on his own dime, and started working little odd jobs around town and saved up enough money to open his own fish shop. He would cheat men at the docks out of fresh fish, to get a leg up on competition. Over the years he made a name for himself. Not necessarily a good one, but a name nonetheless.

"Sex or fight?" "Sex," Alessio informed with a shrug, allowing his brother entrance as he chuckled. "I had no idea my baby bro was a kinky bastard," "Ha, coming from the guy who seems to know a lot about BDSM," "Hey, I read an article once," Niccolo defended. "And remember it since?" Alessio asked in disbelief. "You sure you don't have experience in that area." "Oh fuck off," Niccolo laughed, settling down on the sofa as his brother chuckled. "And put some clothes on, will you."

As soon as the table is cleared, some men drop on the empty chairs around me, bearing shark smiles. Unease slithers down my spine as I count them. Four in all. It is a crowded space after all. They can’t do anything funny here. Right? “You really are one Albanian wonder. Now I see what he saw in you.” One of them starts. He stretches a hand toward me. “I’m Nicolo. You can call me Nick.”

“Now, if you want to take back the Barone legacy… and end what your mother started… I’m ready to serve.” Bella stood straighter, eyes burning. “Then we begin now.” Nico poured two glasses of something dark and sharp-smelling… grappa maybe, but neither Bella nor I touched ours. He stood behind a massive oak desk layered in hand-drawn maps, aged files, and yellowed Polaroids that looked like ghosts from another lifetime. One of them showed Riccardo Barone flanked by men in suits, including a much younger version of Nico, eyes sharp and filled with the kind of clarity only loyalty gave.

Over my twitching corpse. “Nico,” I called one of my men through clenched teeth. He stepped out from behind Matteo. “Boss.” Nico was one of my Enforcers. He had a knack for drilling mem and for interrogation, or in better words, torture. “Since Orsini here doesn't want to make a choice,” I drawled lazily, keeping my eyes on Matteo. “You chose Nico.” Alberto huffed out a laugh, a wide grin on his face as he clapped Matteo on the shoulder.

Using iris as bait Is a very dangerous idea. Once konstantin get her, he would quickly mate with her since he knows that's maximo's weakness. Konstantin knows maximo's allergy. He won't be able to accept and mate with iris again. " Boss! " Marco's voice boom from behind Maximo. The Italian Mafia Boss turn to see the second in command of the Santinos family. " What's up with the smile and happy spirit? " Maximo asked carefully as he took a cigarette from Marco's breast pocket. He stare at the cigarettes for a long time and ask " Is this from our cigar factory? "

He glanced at her, but he returned his attention on the road. "Of course, yes. Who wouldn't be happy? Aren't you happy, huh? We found someone who can help us, Casey. We're having a solution to the problem we had. You're right in the first place, Casey. Sir Antonio can possibly help us. I became angry towards you, but I didn't know what's going on your mind. I'm sorry for it. I was wrong and I want to apologize again to you," Niccolo said, seriously. He answered her while he's not looking at her eyes. He focused his eyes on the road.

A dull thud came from the back as Teo rolled into the footwell. “What the hell, Nic? Animal in the road?” I asked, scanning the dark, snowy asphalt. Nic was gripping the wheel so hard the leather was groaning. He looked completely out of it. “Sorry. I… I can’t focus,” Nic whispered. “My Noir is screaming. He wants to hit 140 and get back to the Estate. It’s like a magnetic pull. I can’t fight it.” “Is that what happened to Teo?” I asked. Teo nodded weakly from the back.

He and Mykaela didn't share any other physical traits besides their height, slim build, and dark hair. This 40-something wealthy entrepreneur—the firstborn son of a wealthier drug lord—also looked like he could knock anyone down with a single punch. The way he talked as if we'd already met only doubled the air of confidence around him. At least a few inches taller than me and Ricchar, too. "You trust him with your life kind of friend?" Ricchar chuckled beside me. "Excuse me. Phone call." Niccolo got up from his seat and flung me a 'Fuck! It's Stefano!' look as he walked off with his phone.

"I...um...I didn't actually think his—" "Should be more careful, Kel. Don't trust anyone that quick." Niccolo took his phone out and stared at the screen for a while, seemingly hesitating. The veins in his strong, angular jaw drew faint lines on his smooth, brown skin. He had tiny scars beside his lips and one above his left brow. Did he get into a fistfight recently? "I gotta take this." "Don't leave me here," I stressed with a frown. "Where you going?" I asked when he was about to get up from his seat.