Nico Di Angelo Cosplay Novels & Stories

I always hated those things unless I was a little bit buzzed. But it somehow made me feel relaxed. “She smokes,” someone said from the balcony right next to Nero’s. It was smaller than the one I was in, but it was still spacious. It was Nico. He was in dark clothes that made him blend into the darkness. He looked just as dangerous, if not more dangerous, than Nero. He was also full of tattoos, and that empty smile of his was on his face. “So my fratellino finally let you out. I told him you don’t have what it takes to pull off something like that.” He said, “Trust me, that’s a compliment.”

Niko lowers, placing the kids down but they cling to him like little pandas with Caela tugging at one of his ears with her hand to hold herself up, it was either that or his hair. I laughed and because his hands are quite full, literally, I lean toward to help him. Then take Angelo at his other side placing the child on his bum in front of me. Still on his hunches, his scent envelopes me, Niko smooths a strand of hair away from my cheek with his free hand, I struggle to hold unto Angelo’s arm as he is no longer interested in me or my nail clipper now that his papa is in the room. They are not the only ones excited to see him, he was gone before I woke up this morning which was quite early as

Imagine Nicolo saying the things he just said in a declamation pose or better yet, imagine him as some kind of a stage actor who is currently on stage delivering his lines complete with the facial reaction that changes whenever he speaks. “Oh no missy,” Nicolo said as he approached me, “You have no right to be happy until you tell me the whole story.” But I can’t, it was so funny that I find it hard to stop laughing. Suddenly the door opened and the glam team is complete. Nicolo walked to the door to help Nikki, whose hands are full because of the clothes and several bags that she was carrying. “Let me remind you girl that we only have one girl to dress up,” Nicolo commented. “But why does i

I entered one and shut the door, I stepped out to look in the mirror at what I had on, when a few girls entered talking, “He’s going to choose soon, he has too, he’s almost 25, I’ll do whatever it takes for Nico to choose me.” They looked at me, then the one with long black hair spoke, “you’re not considering those pants are you, your thighs are way too big for them,” she pointed to my inner thigh. I nodded as I turned, going back inside the small dressing room. I gathered the rest of the clothing and shoes and was about to leave, when one giggled, “Alpha Nico, says I’m the best at finishing him off, you need to be nice to me, I’m going to be the next Luna.”

“Really? We can do it another night, right?” Nicco stood, walking to the closet naked. He emerged, carrying a long, sleeveless red dress with a crystal belt buckle. “You need to wear this tonight,” he said, putting it on the bed. “I’m going to shower.” I pushed myself up from the bed with a groan. “Fine. Wait for me. I need a shower, too.” Nicco shook his finger at me. “No, not tonight. I know how talented you are with a bar of soap and your tongue. And I’m hungry. Wait your turn.”

“Where’d you go? We’ve been trying to find you.” Nikolas, a couple of inches shorter than Angelo, with a slightly slimmer build, had the same coloring and blue eyes as his older brother, but kept his hair shorter. Plus, whereas Nikolas always wore a tie to work, Angelo almost never did. Nikolas always teased him about his model-worthy bed-head look and how he should have a more polished business appearance. Angelo refused. He liked a few loose threads here and there. “Yeah, I know,” Angelo said, running his fingers through his hair.

Angelo and I had agreed to meet at a large mall this afternoon, and I was feeling extremely excited to spend time with him today. I dressed up in something really comfortable, opting for a pair of jeans shorts, a crop top with a large designer jacket over it. As I regarded myself in the floor length mirror, I knew this wasn’t exactly how the wife of the mafia lord was supposed to be dressing, but clearly Luca didn’t care, so why should any else care?

His face was slack, a jagged scar cutting down one cheek. “Anything?” Ferraro asked. I slowly shook my head. He was wearing a black mask. I didn’t see his face at all,” I muttered. “But the clothes are the same.” Ferraro turned his gaze to Nico. “And you, Signor Baldocchi?” “I have enough enemies to fill a small country, Lieutenant. I can’t remember every face that wants me dead,” Nico replied tartly. I felt the faintest flinch in Ferraro’s jaw as he nodded.

“Mine.” Riccardo lifts one styled like a sleek Venetian phantom. “Mine.” Vincenzo holds a dark, angular one that looks like something a sinfully handsome villain would wear. “And mine.” I almost laugh. “You’re really doing this?” “We’re not being recognized,” Riccardo reminds me. “And you?” Nico asks, stepping closer. “You’ll go without a mask.” “Yeah yeah, I know. Because you want everyone to see who I belong to,” I say, mimicking them.

Goosebumps masked my skin and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. This was the shot I had been dreaming of, the break that could launch me back into the game. And he… he had made it happen as easily as flipping a switch. Nico’s gaze shifted from Dante to me, and for a moment, his expression flickered. Then he looked again, brow furrowing. Was that displeasure? Confusion? Or maybe he was just as shocked as I was. “Wait,” Nico’s voice dropped. “She… she’s wearing the final look?”