Nico Diangelo Novels & Stories

" Boma silently thanked God that the interrogation was over. She settled down at the table and waited as he disappeared into the bathroom. She heard him singing in the shower and was thankful for the natural reverb in there. He was a terrible singer. She wasn't a good singer herself but she knew a terrible one when she heard one. At first, she was trying to ignore the sound of the belting he was giving off. But since he kept singing right up to when he exited the bathroom, she couldn't control a giggle that escaped her. The song he was singing was Baby by Justin Bieber and his voice sounded way off.

I just said trying not to look at his green eyes that much. “Whenever you want to escape, find this place. I’ll be here.” His words confused me. “I’m already here, I don’t want to go back.” He smiled at me making my heart melt and my body froze. His hand slowly wiped some stands of my hair from my face hiding them behind my ears. “Just remember what I said,” he spoke with a very low and deep voice. “Please tell me your name.” I brought it up again and I’m not stopping until he gives me his name. “I’m Angelo.”

But her pulse refused to slow. Half an hour later, she was standing with Mazzo and her father near the main ballroom doors when Nico returned. He came through the crowd with that lazy predator’s ease that drew eyes without trying. When he reached them, he bowed his head slightly—polite, dangerous. “Don DeLuca. Mr. Marino.” His voice was smooth. “Congratulations on the engagement.” “Thank you,” Mazzo said evenly, but his hand tightened at Sasha’s back. Nico’s eyes slid to her. “Sasha. Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

"Miss Rossi. It's Nico Torrino." My blood runs cold. Nico. Damien's most trusted man. "What do you want?" "Easy now, bella. Just a business call." His voice is relaxed, but I know the danger beneath it. "I have no business with the Costellos." "Oh, but we do," Nico chuckles. "I'm calling on behalf of an anonymous collector. He wants you to restore a painting. The price is very generous." "I don't take anonymous commissions." "Not even for a million dollars?"

Nico looked at me, clearly ready to discuss something important. “How’s everything today?” Nico asked as he took a seat across from me. He didn’t wait for me to answer before continuing. “There’s someone who wants to meet you.” I raised an eyebrow. “Who?” “A mafia lord from the South. His name is Salvatore Romano. He’s one of Dante’s closest allies.” Nico’s voice was guarded, like he wasn’t sure how I would respond. I leaned back in my chair and thought for a moment. The mention of Salvatore Romano made me uneasy. Dante had mentioned him in a few emails I had gone through just last night, alongside the names of his closest allies. But why was he contacting me now?

Nico sat at its altar, a god never sated. His assistant, shirtless, sweat beaded on his chest, crawled forward, offered a chilled glass of liquor and a damp towel. Nico grabbed the glass, licked the rim, slowly, tongue flicked the edge, then downed it in one gulp. “Fucking Dante,” he muttered, wiped his mouth with his hand, tossed the glass aside. “Walks in like he’s above it, like he’s never fucked anyone raw.” He tilted his head back, laughed, hoarse, feral.

Instead, she bared her teeth. And that made him want her even more. A soft knock came at the terrace door. Nico, his right hand, entered—silent, dressed in black, like a shadow given form. “She’s not going to make it easy for you,” Nico said with a crooked grin. “Maybe you should’ve picked a quieter bride.” Dante didn’t glance at him. “I don’t want quiet. I want control.” “And what if control slips?” “It won’t.” “She’s not one of your mistresses, Dante. She has teeth. And her father’s watching you like a hawk.”

“You two are going to be…” Nicolas let go of Angelina and getting down on his knee in front of Aiden, he grabbed him by his collar and forced him to look him in the eye “come again?” “Tyler?” He asked, frowning in confusion. “Nicolas D’Angelo” Nicolas answered coldly. He grabbed his chin, and digging his fingers in his jaw, the man flinched, trying to move from his grip; however, Nicolas simply tightened it, drawing out blood. I looked at Dante who glared at me, clearly annoyed by what he just saw happening, but putting a hand on my waist, his touch was gentle despite the anger “what are you going to do?”

she sat at the back of the limousine and Alexis joined her. ***************** They stopped at a big organization, made with glass and STARFORCE was boldly written on it. that alighted from the limousine and the reporters began to murmur. ** wow she look so beautiful ** finally the summers now have a female dancer and vocalist among them. ** woah!! dream look so hot as ever, our forever best rapper. ** Alexis and branny you look super handsome, love you our main vocalist" the reporters and crazy fans kept screaming. " Their screaming are really annoying" Nicki muttered walking into the main building

His eyebrows raised in question, “I'm Ashanti. Ashanti Dunbar, and you? “ His eyes watched my hands longer than I felt comfortable with, I was about to withdraw them when he covered them with his hands. His hands are big, my hand fits perfectly into his like it was made for this. I mentally scold myself for thinking such. Before I could wander further into my thoughts, his deep baritone voice came. “Roman. Roman Domino "