Nico And Bianca Novels & Stories

I kissed Ellison’s forehead and gave him back to my mom, “we’ll be back when we find the next.” As we drove, I looked at Nico’s profile, his strong jaw line littered with black scruff, his perfect straight nose, his thick black curls that lazily fall over his forehead and a smile that could take my breath away. I cleared my throat, “Nico, the next Blood Moon we will conceive our first child, what do you want a boy or a girl?” His chuckle was loud, “we have 150 years to think about that, but I already know what I want, a healthy pup that looks like you, but with my charm.”

The whole damn thing and I bought every word of it. She was never real. That version of her—the version that made me let my guard down, made me trust her, want her—was built just for me. The only thing sloppy here was me. She played me so clean I didn’t even realize I was the mark until she was gone. “Bianca and Stefano are here,” Niko announced, stepping into the room with them trailing behind. Bianca looked rough. Real rough. Her eyes were red and puffy, like she hadn’t stopped crying since the second they hauled her in.

Was she imagining or someone just called her ‘piccola’? Norah turned slowly, desperately trying to stay calm, desperately trying to stop her body from shaking. Mixed feelings and emotions were punching her from all directions: hurt, pain, joy, fear, frustration, passion… but most of all, love. “Ciao…” It couldn’t be him… The man in front of her wasn’t Leone… No way! Even if he was wearing one of his perfectly tailored suits. Norah’s gaze went up, and met his eyes… those beautiful piercing blue eyes, staring back at her.

Bianca smiled, glad that her best friend was planning a surprise for her, maybe there was hope for their friendship she thought as they rushed out when Adrian kept honking and yelling at them to hurry up. They started their journey to the cabin. “Pregame?” Giana asked as she brought out a bottle of vodka from her bag pack. “Hell yeah!” Adrian said as he grabbed the bottle. “I don't think the driver should be drinking.” Bianca started. “I also thought we left our parents back at home, yet here you are.” Adrian mocked, everyone laughed, as he took a drink handed the bottle to Matteo, who was sitting shotgun. The group was drinking, smoking weed, yelling, and laughing. Even the uptight Bianca h

Instead, she was still here—trapped in his world, in his bed, and worst of all, in his hold. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the balcony railing as a low, familiar voice whispered from the shadows behind her. “You look troubled, bella.” Isla stiffened, recognizing the voice immediately. Nico Bianchi. She turned slowly, keeping her expression neutral as she faced the man standing just beyond the shadows. He was tall, lean, and dangerous in a way that was different from Dante. Where Dante was all raw power and control, Nico exuded a smooth, calculated charm that made him just as deadly.

“Sienna’s death was the final piece. It was always about you, Nico. You cut me out. You stole what should have been mine. You looked at me like I was nothing and chose her instead.” I stared at her, anger burning through the fear. “You’re actually sick.” Bianca ignored me. Her eyes stayed on Nico like he was the only person who mattered. “After everything I did for you, you still chose her.” Nico looked at her with complete boredom, like she was wasting his time. “Are you finished?” I watched Bianca’s face change. The obsession, the hurt, the rage — it was all there, raw and ugly. This was not love. This was possession wearing a pretty dress. People like her did not stop until they destroyed

"All I know is that Matteo gives me everything I want. Power, status, money. Can you give me that?" "You're going to regret this," Nico seethed. "No, I won't," Bianca said, lifting her chin arrogantly. "I'm much smarter than Viviana. I know how to keep a man." Just then, a black Cadillac pulled up to the curb. Matteo got out. His face darkened when he saw Nico. "What's going on here?" "Nothing." Bianca's face changed instantly. She looked hurt. "This man has been harassing me."

“You fight over me, over what I mean to him, over control — and you forget what matters. You’re destroying yourselves. I won’t let it happen!” Nico’s grip on my shoulder loosened slightly, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. For the first time, he hesitated, unsure whether to continue the fight or listen to me. Luca’s smirk faded. “Bold,” he said quietly. Then, with a swift motion, he turned and bolted toward the nearest exit — disappearing into the shadows. I barely had time to register it before Nico released a sharp breath. “He’s gone,” I whispered. Nico turned toward me, every muscle still coiled. “This isn’t over,” he said softly. “He won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

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.

“I thought Isa was strong enough to wait.” His shoulders shook. “I thought she would hate me, disappear for a few days, and come back.” He pressed his forehead against my hand. “I never believed she could really leave.” Bianca arrived in her wedding dress. She stopped at the doorway when she saw me. “Isa…” Matteo rose and stood between us. “I didn’t know this would happen,” Bianca said. “I asked you to postpone. I only wanted to live.” “You did live.” His voice was quiet.