Nico Di Angelo Ghost King Novels & Stories

Arcangelo's voice sounded detached and his eyes even duller. Nodding, her father stood from his place and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. One could see from the glass doors how Nicole's expression morphed from panic to confusion then into shock. A hand placed to her mouth with tears streaming down her face. She shook her head in desperation, the tears blurring her vision as she clutched at the front of her gown. Her shaking grew worse and her voice rose, trembling on the bed with tears flowing like a never-ending waterfall. Arcangelo hugged her close, allowing her to sob into his shoulder as she clutched on in desperation, begging for him to be lying.

She knew he heard her footsteps, what with his super hearing, but he gave the semblance of normality so she too pretended. And the first rule of pretentiousness never shows your ignorance. Hence Willow waited patiently, scanning the garage, her eyes lapping on any potential weapons in the vicinity. "Are you Billy Jones?" The hulk asked after a few minutes. Willow hides her triumph smile. They always crack. But then what he asked penetrated into her mind. Billy Jones? Seriously, Reagan? Instead of asserting, Willow questioned, "who is asking?" "King" Right. I'm as much of Billy Jones as he is king. Though Reagan said his name is Dane. He is a good-looking vampire, there is no doubt about it.

I watch his broad shoulders and back as he closes the door behind him and turn my head, wondering what the fuck just happened to me. It’s not like I’m unconscious, I’m compos mentis and I have to admit, I liked the way he said goodnight Princess. Nico Santangelo it would appear has a softer more genteel side, but this could be bad, right? If anyone thought for a moment that he had feelings for me, they would use that against him and I Lucky Gianluca will not be Nico Santangelo’s Achilles heel.

I would have already gone upstairs if I knew where the bedroom was I needed to sleep and recover. "Nico ..." "Michel ." "What did you say?" "Boss . Bye Angelo's girlfriend. Angelo don't let Rachel interfere. By the way I've been watching. " Nico was making his way Out " eew get out , and for goodness sake give us privacy . I don't wat you watching us. " "Paul likes her .Ha ha and you're a slave to her very very..." Angelo walked to the kitchen island and pulled out a gun pointing it at Nico.

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

Nico knows not to give a comment about that, "No need to pay for security. Things will go back to how it should be with the police protecting us." The crowd goes silent, to Nico, it means they are listening. "Really, we should believe a fucking Bailey." The only attack Ghost has on him is that he's a Bailey and it's getting old. "Well, you will have to." Ghost starts laughing, this time the crowd doesn't join him. "He's so cocky." Ghost moves closer to Nico and whispers. "Get your ass down, if you don't want your ass to be capped." He's losing if he's resulting in threats.

The only way I could leave this beautiful prison was mercy or death. I’m the Angel of Death. He had told me that himself. I lowered my head in defeat. As we came to a stop, Nico got out first, then dragged me out of the car. I didn’t even have time to soak in the beauty of the house because he was dragging me along. When we got inside, Angelo was already seated on a single couch lined with gold. A throne fit for a king—or the proclaimed Angel of Death. He looked like an angel. Shut up, Aurora, I scolded myself.

He pulled his black coat back over his massive shoulders, his face returning to that unyielding, terrifying mask of the Ghost. "The empire is bled, signorina," Dante growled into his throat-mic, his hand locking onto the heavy brass handle of the server core door. "The data is secure. I’m ascending to the study now. Tell the King his executioner is on the stairs."

With a laugh, he steps out and slams the door behind him. As soon as the door clicks shut, Ghost’s attention snaps back to me. His chest heaves, his fists clenched at his sides. “You know what, Prince? I’m done. Why the hell am I trying so hard when it’s clear you’d watch my death and maybe even take part in it?” “I wouldn’t,” I say, but even I don’t believe the words. They sound hollow, a weak attempt to diffuse his anger. And Ghost can see it.

I said simply to him. “And respecting my bond with my mate.” Niko said causing us to jump. I skipped over to him placing a kiss on his cheek before going back to my muffins. “Thank you for not forcing me to kill you. She wouldn’t be happy.” Niko seemed to force it out, though his smile seemed real. Theo let out a small laugh. “Now that the fuzzy stuff is over.” He shook his body like he was a wet dog. “Nikola, have you ever heard of… Angels? Like part god but not immortal?”