Nico De Angelo Novels & Stories

“He didn’t die. He just changed names.” Juan narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?” “They don’t call him Bishop anymore. They call him Chancellor now. He’s running things. Quietly. Through front people, fake companies, even charities. He’s not just moving drugs or weapons. He’s moving codes. Technology. Stuff I don’t even understand.” Juan stepped closer. “Is he in Sicily?” “I don’t know,” Marco said. “But he’s close. Close enough to use your routes again.” Juan reached out. “Let me see that notebook.”

Nicholas cleared his throat, stopping his brother from saying a word, and I took a deep breath, knowing that things were not going to end well if we proceeded like this. “You know, the last thing that is going to make things work, Dante D’Angelo, is the two of us arguing like we are two chickens in a barn.” I said, and he rolled his eyes. “I am an Alpha, and even a chicken is a toy for me to hunt.” He said, and I shook my head at him.

The Christmas Eve I decided to move to Chicago for Nico Ricci, my father cut off all my credit cards. "He's just a street thug! Betray the family for him, and you'll never take over the business!" I left anyway. Didn't look back. In six years, Nico climbed from the bottom of the mob to a Capo. He built a home for us with those hands—hands that had held guns and spilled blood. Christmas Eve. I stared at the buttercream cake I'd made, waiting for Nico to find the engagement ring I'd hidden inside. Then my phone rang. His guy was stammering—Nico got into a massive bar fight, head covered in blood, might need a hospital. I rushed over through the freezing snow. But at the end of the hospital hal

“He closes in an hour, so you’re more than welcome to wait for him.” I was too stunned by the betrayal to do anything else. Niko smiled politely, looking between my friends. “Sorry I didn't introduce myself properly," he said, already charming them. "I'm Niko. What are your names?” “I’m River. I’m a Computer Science major with Jeremy. And this is Kim.” “Fashion Design,” Kim chimed in, offering a friendly wave. Niko nodded, acknowledging them, before turning his attention to the last member of our group. “And you?”

"That day, you asked me what do I do or living. Yes I have the engineering firms, and I am the biggest supplier for engineering instruments in the region. But it’s all a mask. It’s a camouflage, to hide the real me. The real Lucas David. I... I am the Mafia. I rule the underworld, in this country and foreign too. I hold more than 80% shares in the black market. I have my hands dirtied and strained in the blood. I have inhaled guns smoke. I have killed more people than my age. I deal in all black and white. And if you agree to be a part of my life, you will be automatically entitled as part of Mafia. Do you think you can live your life with a stained person like me"? Lucas held his hands reve

“No my love, it was even stupid to test you. You've actually never asked me for anything more than my attention and I failed to realize that” “I love you Geena Stones”. “I love your Dariel Montague”. “About that, my name may not actually be Dariel,” he said with a little laugh. “Please don't pull any pranks on me”. “I'm not my dear. A man came to me saying he's my late father's lawyer. He showed me pictures of my late parents. I am originally from Italy and my name is Nico. Nico De Luca. My dad owned a multi billion empire and being the only son, all that is mine”.

But I resisted the urge, keeping my hands on my thighs. "Now, we have to call Nita," Angelo said, clapping. That seemed to be his thing. "We don't have enough time, and I am dying to meet her. If Marcus is this great, I can only imagine how phenomenal Nita is. Maybe it's an Arthur Group thing. You employ only hot people, don't you?" Jordan tore his eyes off me, but I didn’t think he heard what Angelo said because he kept blinking cluelessly. Tommy laughed. "It's fine, buddy. If I were you, I would have been stunned speechless too."

Katherine: Power always announced itself before people did. It always reflected with the way others looked at you when you walked into a room. I felt Lorenzo D’Angelo before I saw him, his scent sharp with ambition, his presence restless, coiled. Rogues like him never truly learned how to be still. They survived by moving, by taking, by refusing to kneel. So when he stepped into my territory unchallenged, I smiled. “I didn’t think that you would come.” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Well, I'm okay. Just going to have to drink those pills prescribed by the doctor, and I guess I’m going to be fine.” “That’s good,” he said, nodding. Then, “Do you need anything?” “I’m okay, Nico. I just want to be alone, really.” “Okay. I understand,” he said nodding. And just then, Angela walked in, gave Nico this angry look, which I had never seen on her before, and then set the tray down. Nico looked at her, then looked down, and walked out the door, closing it behind him. Angela went on dealing with the food situation, putting the tray on top of me and then standing over me like a prison warden as she said,

He smiled and extended his hand as if to be rather pleasant. "Hello Miss Moretti, I am Nico Delgado." I said as I observed the different rings on his fingers and gave him a handshake. "Hello," I said. "Nico is my youngest son, and he is twenty-one years old. The elder is your fiance, Marco stated while observing me. Future spouse. As I came to terms with my destiny, the foreign term whirled around in my head and startled me once again. Shit. I wanted to go for a run, but I am unable.