Nico Di Angelo Full Name Novels & Stories

Without thinking twice, she matched towards the second girl who called her a motherless bitch. Just when she was about to slap the girl across her face, a strong masculine hand held hers. “ Let. Me. Go.” Nicki gritted her teeth, her eyes turning bloodshot with tears and anger. “ And if I don't?” A low hoarse voice came. “ Bastard! Let me go!” Nicki struggled out of his hold. “ I won't let you lay your stinking hands on my girlfriend.” The masculine voice came to view. He was looking like a Greek god with full lips, raven black hair, thick brows, chiselled jaw and delicate nose.

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.

JULIE "Yeah, sure. Call me Nick or Nicholas," he suggests and heat coats my cheeks when I realize he just asked me to use his pet name if I like. "Okay.. so how about — um… Nick?" I say, almost whispering the words. I am not sure if I sound pleasant or nervous. Whatever it is, I am surely nervous right now. His name is pretty, to be honest. Nicholas — a Greek name, if the knowledge is still in my mind. And it means the "victory of people". It is a strong and bold name, perfect for a bold and humble man like him.

The way he looks at me, the familiarity in his touch, the memories that feel like they’re just out of reach. “Who are you, really?” I breathe, trying to swallow down what I know will be betrayal. He takes a deep breath and cards his fingers through his hair, his eyes never leaving mine. “My name is Nero Leonetti and your real name is Camellia. You’re my mate and my Luna. Five years ago, you were taken from me and disappeared without a trace, and I’ve been trying to find you ever since.” My mind is spinning, trying to process his words. “You’re lying,” I say, my voice breaking. “You have to be.”

So much made sense, and all bad thoughts of his mother disappeared. He nodded. “My siblings have hated me for not only being the child of a mistress, but because our father gave me his name. I’ve gone by Domenico since I was six, unable to stand being called Giovanni. Then started using Mancini as my last name when I was eighteen.” “That’s why you command so much respect.” Santiago had called him sir. At the time I thought it was odd, but there was too much going on to think on it for long.

It’s hard to tell for sure in the dim light. “Is it all there?” the stranger asks, the question directed at his men rifling through the eight bags at his feet. “It’s all there, boss,” one of them confirms with a tip of his head. Nico stands still, hands clasped in front of him as he stares ahead at his client. The other man nods, jaw ticking as he holds Nico’s gaze for a beat too long which would make any normal person uncomfortable. But Nico isn’t a normal person—he’s a psychopath incapable of feeling an ounce of emotion. He’s the perfect capo for Angelo because he will get the job done, no matter what, with no remorse or fear of the outcome. He’s a force to be reckoned with, and I’m lookin

As usual, I’m easily lost in his very presence. As his skin brushes mine while he slowly peels away the strand on my shoulder, he whispers in my ear, “Brielle-Chantal Angelini.” I gasp. Turn toward him. Okay, topic not closed. “Nick, that’s beautiful,” I say, completely in awe of how regal it sounds, how smart, and yet… So personable. He takes this a step further, explaining, “I figured Brie, for short, is Americanized. Chantal was my mother’s name—she was French. And Angelini is Italian, like my father. Obviously.”

I bet she’d like that too, the wild card that she is. “One day, Princess, you will beg me for my cock in your mouth and my hand to leave an imprint on your ass.” “I doubt it, Santangelo.” “Can’t you call me by my real name? It is Nico.” My voice is gruff because her defiance is turning me on, what the hell is happening to me? I have no control, my heart races, the blood is pulsing in my ears. If I wasn’t such a controlled man, my dick would be out of its pants and shoved between her legs, or maybe those ripe tits of hers and I’d give her a pearl necklace to be fucking proud of. I don’t just spill for any damn woman.

All eyes are glued to her. “Hi,” Nico says, walking over to her with an extended hand, “I’m Niccolò, but my friends call me Nico.” She looks uncertain as she takes his hand. I almost want to roll my eyes. How does she pull off all these personalities? At one time she’s combative and sarcastic, another a seducer, but now, she is a fragile doll. “Corina.” “I know.” Rico strides over to stand next to Nico. “Enrico. You can call me Rico.”

"I'm here to see Don Giovanni." "Who... Who are you?" "Oh how rude! My name is Romano Mancini." "Marianna Giana Balotelli." I nearly slapped myself for saying all three of my names. "Just Maria mostly." "It's a pleasure to meet you Just Maria mostly. Your father, per favore." "Mom, I'm going out." Nicko informed me. I wanted to curse. I'm trying to make an impression then he goes and brands me 'mom'. Romano paid attention to him. "And who is this?"