Nico Di Angelo Quotes Novels & Stories

Luca said in a deep voice. Angela stiffened. "You said that Aurora fed him mangoes and nearly killed him." He took one menacing step toward them. "Who taught him to say that?" Angela's lips moved, tears immediately pooling in her eyes. "Do you not believe me, Luca? Nico's only five. He can't possibly—" "Who taught him?" Luca repeated. Nico hid behind Angela, frightened by Luca's deep, menacing voice. Luca then crouched down until he was at the same height as Nico and looked straight into his eyes.

“You okay though? For real. Nothing weird has been happening lately?” I shrug. “Not really. I just… find Nico really attractive.” She barks a laugh. “You find a dangerous mafia don attractive? That’s hot.” “Fuck you, guy.” “I’m not judging! I’m just saying — Nico Vescari hasn’t looked at anyone in years. Don’t be heartbroken if he doesn’t stare at you like you stare at him.” “He’s just a good looking man, it’s not that deep. I just need to journal.”

“Don’t think about things that make you unhappy. Focus on the food.” Nina giggled and praised, “Uncle Damiano, your cooking’s amazing!” “Then have some more.” As they ate, Nico looked between Lucia and Damiano and suddenly blurted, “It’d be perfect if you two were our mom and dad.” Damiano seemed so strong, yet so gentle. Nico really liked him. Still, he thought it was a shame that bad dads couldn’t be traded. Nico had always spoken his mind and never kept his thoughts to himself. This was obviously him showing that he liked Damiano.

It was what the love of ego and power did, something that was driving humanity downhill and toward its grave, at least, that was how I saw things; but it could be me and being locked for the years that I’ve been. “Do not attack the man without listening to his side of the story, Dante D’Angelo” I said, glaring at him. He frowned in confusion before moving away from my grasp, glaring daggers at me as he processed what I just said “your brother has been through as much as you have, if not more…” “I don’t fucking know who you are…”

“You? Helping someone out of the goodness of your heart? Come on, Angelo. We’ve known you since you were stealing cigars from your old man’s stash. You don’t just ‘return favours.’” I kept my expression neutral. “This is different.” “Different how?” Nico pressed, his tone sharper now. “Because she’s young and scared? Or because you feel something for her?” I frowned, my jaw tightening. “This isn’t about feelings. Don’t start making assumptions.” “Oh, come on,” Marco said, throwing his hands up. “You expect us to believe this isn’t about pity or… something else? She’s not just another pawn, Angelo. We can see it.”

Nico’s jaw tightened—not with anger, but with recognition. He leaned back slightly, one hand braced behind him on the step, the other resting loosely on his knee. His eyes never left her face. “You won’t,” he said. She blinked. “Won’t what?” “Lose yourself.” There was no hesitation in his voice. No bravado. Just certainty. Elena let out a quiet, humorless breath. “You don’t know that.” “I do,” Nico replied. She turned fully toward him now, brows knitting faintly. “How?”

Nico remained beside me for a while, our shared silence a testament to the unspoken support we offered each other. After a time, Nico stood up and started walking away, his shoulders hunched under the weight of guilt. “Nico!” I called after him. He turned, his eyes meeting mine with a mixture of sadness and remorse. “Stand tall,” I urged, my voice gentle but firm. “Vincenzo would understand that it wasn't your fault. You were only trying to protect him, just as he would do for you. Don't blame yourself for this. You're not to blame.”

“I appreciate you worrying about me, Gianna but there is nothing that can be done. This is a part of my life and there are no guarantees. I can die tomorrow or I could be celebrating my hundredth birthday. There are endless possibilities.” “Then teach me how to shoot and all that and then I will protect you,” I said even if it sounded ridiculous as fuck. Nico chuckled at that, shaking his head. And it was such a sweet sound. “Are you mocking me?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Would I dare?” he smirked, brushing stray tendrils away from my face. “You just did,” I breathed. “How should I punish you for that Signor?” “You tell me,” Nico murmured, pulling me closer. “How may I make up for that? Sh

“You devil. Misbehaving at a charity function.” Angelo laughed and nodded his head. “Actually, I think she was quite pleased with my behavior.” He winked at him. Nikolas gave a raucous laugh. “You are too much, A!” Nikolas then held his hands out. “Don’t even think of making any more puns. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Like a hitman for the mafia. Crap. I really hope that's not the case. [ We don't talk as much as we used to. ] I hesitantly press the Send button while frowning at my screen. Angelo's reply takes a few minutes, as if he's choosing his words cautiously. [ Mi spiace, tesoro. ] [I'm sorry, honey.] I scoff at his message. Before I can begin typing my next reply, he sends me another one: [ Just dealing with some personal stuff. Had to be alone. Figure things out myself. ]