Nico Kim Romane & Geschichten

I say as I race to catch up to Brooke. “Bye, Mom! We’ll be back soon!” Cyrene says. “Don’t go too far, Iniko. You’re getting close to your first shift,” she calls out. “We’re just going to the mountain,” I call back. “Go, Kiko, go!” Cyrene says, encouraging me to catch up to Brooke. I love that Cyrene is nine years old and still calls me Kiko. She’s the only one who does. It’s just like she still calls Cal Calgon. No one cares to correct her because she’s Cyrene.

"Uhm, can I have your ticket?" Kane raised a brow, amusement flickering in his blue eyes. "Ticket?" he repeated, his voice deep, teasing. The redhead—Mona, according to her name tag—bit down on her plump lower lip, her gaze darting everywhere except at him. "Sorry, it's just... you look familiar." That made him chuckle. Oh, really? He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering to the large poster plastered beside her booth—a giant picture of himself, fists raised, the underground champion.

I opened the door. The man standing there was tall, very good-looking, holding two plates of food like he'd been personally invited. I recognized him vaguely. One of the faces I'd clocked during the scrimmage and filed under “Kai’s people.” He looked at my face. At the marks on my wrists. At the general energy of someone who had been crying furiously. His expression didn't go uncomfortable or pitying. He just said — "Hi. I'm Niko."

He released me and snapped his fingers and held out his hands open. A phone was placed in his palm. The screen lit up. I didn’t understand what I was seeing at first, blurred movement, sunlight, children’s voices in the background…. Then my heart stopped. A school gate, uniforms. A familiar backpack swinging against a small frame. Nico. My breath shattered in my chest. “What …. what is that?” I whispered. Rico tilted the screen so I could see clearly. Men stand nearby, pretending to check their phones, leaning against cars. One of them looked directly into the camera and smiled.

For some reason, I was let down that Luca wasn't around. After all, this was his home, and he had no interest in having supper with visitors. Like the fool he was, he may have been hiding upstairs. At least I learned that he is only twenty six years old, and based on his brother's appearance, he ought to be respectable. I glanced over at Nico, who I've enjoyed chatting with all night. His chestnut hair, which was neatly combed back and reached to his ears. He was well-shaven and had a defined jawline. He had an undeniable youthful attractiveness in his dark eyes and brows. Nico wore a lot of smiles, which fit him well.

She's really pretty. I just hope she won't get poisoned by one of those - "Over there," Wayne nudged towards Ian's table. I saw her sitting there. No. "Hey," I looked up instantly to see Nicko smiling at me. I smiled at him. He sat down as if this were his seat for decades. "Guys.....this is my new friend, Nicholas," I said. "You can call me Nicko," he said. I smiled at him. "This is Wayne, and this is Kim," I said. They waved at him with a smile.

I crouch in front of him and remove the gag from his mouth, he's awake now, so he'll have a few choice words for me. “Who the fuck are you? Do you know who you're messing with? I'll ruin you, and…. I pull the gag back in his mouth. “Well, that was enlightening, nice to meet you too, I'm Domenico, but my friends call me Nico for short”, I say, with a smile on my face. I don't know how I manage to stay cool when I'm face-to-face with the man who destroyed my sister's childhood and made the whole idea of living tedious for her.

“My name is Spicy, and I’m here to give you the full VIP experience. My rules are no touching, no happy endings, and if you need extra time, you’ll have to……” “No need for the speech,” he interrupted smoothly. “I already know who you are. You were all over the news last weekend after Jace Harrington got into a fight over you. That got my attention. My name is Nico. Nice to finally meet you, Spicy.” He leaned in and tucked a stray curl behind my ear. His touch was light, but it made my skin crawl. “I had to see for myself what made the almighty Jace Harrington lose his mind over a stripper. You smell sweet… I wonder how you taste.” He teased.

“How about your head on a platter? Are you willing to offer that? Because that’s the only thing you’ll have to offer in the next five seconds.” My head whips upwards, shock reverberating through my body and displaying on my features as I take in the sight of the person before me. Nico Armani stands in front of me, all six foot seven, with a hard scowl on his face, glaring down at us like we are the reason for all the global warming. “Who the fuck are you?” David retorts. “No one of importance,” Nico shoots back, his eyes landing on mine and staying there, “Just her fucking husband.”

My expression was calm, but the look in my eyes was enough to make Nico’s lively chatter stop short. “I believe you’ve found something for me,” I declared with an air of confidence. “I did, and you will thank me—or actually, just treat me to a nice steak,” Nico suggested as he pulled out his laptop, typed in a few keys, then turned it to face me. On the screen was demographic data of a man. Not just any man—the man who had decided to stand between me and Sienna. The picture wasn’t clear, clipped from CCTV footage at the café where Nico had met her. There were a few more photos, all blurry and unclear. But his distinct features were visible: platinum blond hair, piercing grey eyes, and the re