Nico Di Angelo Novels & Stories

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.”

They dragged me into the back office of the restaurant, locked the door, and threw me onto the leather couch. Nico walked in slowly, rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt. He was tall, broad, with dark hair, cold gray eyes, and a scar across his left cheek. Power rolled off him like smoke. He was the underboss — second only to the Don — and everyone feared him. He held up my phone, the photo still on the screen. “Stupid little girl,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You thought you could spy on me and get away with it?”

I stood at Alessia’s back, and the male stood up suddenly. “Hello Anya.” he beamed. He was really cute. Does Vincenzo only have cute people around him? I tilted my head “How do you know my name?” “The guys told me. I am Nico. Nice to meet you.” he smiled. He looked playful and boyish and a little younger than the rest guys. Alessia tugged my shirt and I turned to look at her. “He is Nico, I and Vince's adopted brother. He may look playful, but he is a skilled assassin and a fucking asshole.”

His mustache was a mixture of gray and black hair, which slightly covered his upper lip. He was wearing a black Desmond Merrion Supreme Bespoke suit and a Louis Vuitton Manhattan shoe and In his right hand, was a can of LAB Split. Not being impressed by what he wore, Cordelia looked away, and said, “I don’t do beer, give me your finest whiskey.” The man that approached her was Senator Ivan, a member of the Croatian parliament, and one of the richest men in Croatia. He was known to be one of the most lavish spenders in all clubs in town, and so he was highly respected by all the bar owners.

It was written all over her face, what the fuck did he expect? "You got something important to tell me?" He nodded, "D'Angelo is here; wants to talk" I lit up a cigar and lodged it between my lips. "Call him in." Scott nodded to the guard standing by the door and a second later D'Angelo walked right in. "Don Niko," he nodded and approached me. Bowing down beside me, he kissed the Costello family ring on my hand. "D'Angelo, what's the matter?" I know he had come here for a favor. What can I say... a devil's work is never done. D'Angelo's gaze flicked behind me, where they got stuck.

Emiliano asked with a frown and Angelo beamed as he prepared to pop the champagne open but posed to look at his best friend "So how was the night, I heard you took the little kitten to your private penthouse huh...tell me...did you have fun?" Angelo lowered close to Emiliano and whispered with a grin and winked in the process, Emiliano feeling irritated massaged his temples because it seemed Nickolas had started running his mouth anyhow "Do your work okay...focus on getting people out of jail and putting more criminals in jail" he said coldly and rise from his chair and folded his white shirt sleeves up to his elbows and glanced at his phone

" He typed. I glared at the sentence, reading every word with pure distaste. 'Who are you? God? Lucifer? Go rear ducks or shit fucking lullabies, stronzo. You're not even a man equaled to L'Angelo.' I scoffed, wishing there was a way I'd record it and let him hear it. "Oh, pardon me sweetie.... where are my manners.' He typed again. 'They call me L'Angelo Della Morte E Del Terrore.'

I say with a smile, and he nods. “I am, but Dante and Nico are in a disagreement. Nico wants nothing to do with Sylvana after we found out what really happened, but Dante is forcing him into this. Nico knows he has no say because his Capo spoke and it is killing him.” Dario says and slowly stands to get up. “I should go get Nico,” he says, then a few minutes later his Bugatti started up and sped after his angry brother.

It happens. "Nico." I smile as I say his name. "Nico Angelos."'

Pity flows through me for him, he has no idea what’s in store for him later. I’m almost hidden by one of the large stone pillars and from here I watch the room. Nico is by Damians side, he looks like one of the angels from the renaissance and I am most certain that he was used as inspiration for the great Italian masters. His face looks serious as he listens to whatever Damian is saying, there is a bright eyed adoring fledgling hanging from Damian’s arm looking at him like he is a god. Foolish girl. Nico’s eyes keep roaming the room and I know he is looking for me but I can not make myself move in their direction.