Novel & Cerita Bianca And Nico Di Angelo

"I'll leave, I promise." It was better this way. I'd done enough damage. A slow smile crept across her face, but it didn’t reach her slithered, siren eyes. “And stay away from my man,” she added coldly. Two heavy thumps in my chest. “What... what man?” Bianca’s eyes glinted as she looked me up and down. Then, she leaned in, her lips brushing my ear. “Angelo mio,” she whispered. She giggled like a maniac, startling me and walked away like she hadn’t just said the sickest thing.

Gordon asked after he started the engine. Marco watched his assistant maneuver the car. His thoughts go back to what he and Nico Bernardi discussed in the latter’s office. “Why cling to the girl, Bonacci? She was just a girl.” Nico Bernadi taunted when he offered to buy Kara Baxter. H*ck! The man had just refused a staggering three hundred million dollars for a nobody. Marco did not expect that Nico Bernardi was proving to be a tough cookie. The latter won’t budge. Marco watched as Nico leaned back in his seat.

” Get the lady in the backseat out and put her in the guestroom on the second floor “, he instructed while loosening the noose of his tie and making his way to the large door of his villa. Bianca yawns, rubbing her eyes repeatedly till she woke up,” it’s so soft and comfy here” she said while immersing herself deeper into the soft feather pillows.” You’re finally up miss”, a housekeeper said as she entered the room with a glass of water and medication.”Where am I ?”Bianca asks .” This is Mr.Damian Rivers’ villa”, the housekeeper replied.”Who’s that?”Bianca asked. The housekeeper looked at her with a surprised expression on her face, then she replied,” He is the Manager of the Windcracker gro

Oh God, please… I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood, my heart pounding so violently I'm certain everyone at the table can hear it. "Luca, this is Bianca Rossi," Marco says, his voice cutting through the ringing in my ears. "My fiancée." I force a shaky smile, trying to rise, but I can't feel my legs. No. I can't feel my entire body. Luca steps closer, his heavy footsteps vibrating through the floor. Instead of offering a hand, he leans down over my shoulder. Before I can register what he's doing, his lips brush against my cheek. I freeze.

he said carefully, “it seems your fiancé is not a man to be crossed.” Bianca let her lips curve into a small, lethal smile. “No,” she said softly, “he is not. And neither am I.” The Don blinked, startled, then inclined his head and retreated. Bianca didn’t miss the way Matteo watched her from across the room. Pride glinted in his gaze, mixed with something darker, something possessive. By the end of the night, guests weren’t whispering about the assassination attempt, they were whispering about Bianca Ricci Romano, the woman who turned blood on the floor into a declaration of power.

Not until she heard from him and confirmed what had been said. “Could you please try again? I really need to speak to him.” Julia urged. “You will not speak to that man!” a voice interrupted. Julia and her mother looked up to see the door closing. They had failed to notice the boss's arrival. “Who are you to barge in here? And what do you want?” Mrs. Bianchi questioned. Julia, fully aware of her mother's temper, attempted to signal her. “He is Donatello Rossini.” Julia told her.

And then there were Damian's family, his uncle and his two sisters. His sister, Angela, was the first one to speak. "So, this is the famous Bianca," she said, a knowing smile on her face. She looked beautiful with her long dark hair, and her green eyes. She was the spitting image of her mother, from what I had seen in the pictures. "It's so good to finally meet you," I said, a genuine smile on my face. "Damian has told me so much about you." "Only good things, I hope," she said, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Ah—right. Yeah. You liked it, then?" "I did," I said. "Came back for more." "Well, I'm glad. I could give you more recommendations if you want." He gave a slight smirk. I couldn’t tell if he was flirting or just being nice. “I’d like that.” I smiled. “And I don’t get your name last time "Giovanni. But my business partners call me Gio." "Bianca." "Bianca," he repeated slowly. I cleared my throat. "Well... thanks again."