NICCO

Aria gives an uncertain pause. "Can you blame me? We didn't exactly part on the best of terms."

I rise from my desk and move closer, stopping only when my chest is about to brush against hers, murmuring, "I admit, I still resent you."

"Do you hate me, though?"

Fuck, no.

But I cannot bring myself to tell her the truth. My heart remains too raw.

With a knowing expression, Aria does not press me and tactfully changes course, "I can't believe you're actually standing here. It's been so long. Too long."

I whisper, "How does it feel to see me again?"

She places a palm on my chest. Right over my heart. The beats quicken for her. "Like a dream."

"Not a nightmare?"

"Not at all."

I reach up to clasp her hand in mine. "Does this mean you missed me?"

Gray eyes glisten with sadness. "You know I did."

My gaze moves to her hand. Surprise lifts my brow when I see a sparkle on her pinky finger. "You are still wearing the ring."

The very one I gave her when I was still planning to make her my wife.

"I know. I wear it everyday."

"It is on the wrong finger."

"I... had it resized."

"Why?"

"Because I don't deserve to put it on my ring finger anymore. But it still means everything to me," she murmurs. "Your ring never leaves my hand. I want it there as a reminder."

"Of what?"

"Of how badly I fucked up with you, so I'll never make that mistake again."

I hope you choke on regret every time you look at it.

Is that why she wears it?

Atonement.

Damn it, now I feel like an asshole. "Fuck, Aria."

Uncertainty flashes across her lovely features. "Would you prefer that I stopped wearing it, then?"

As though to prove that she is serious, she starts tugging on the band. My larger hand closes over her smaller one, stilling her, stopping her.

"Do whatever you want. It is your ring now, remember?" I mutter. "I do not fucking care."

Except I do care. The sight of my ring on her hand makes me one happy motherfucker. The ring remains a symbol of us. There is a sense of dark satisfaction in knowing that I still matter so much to her. She is mine as long as the ring remains on her hand. She is mine if I wish to claim her.

Suddenly, I want to tell Aria something that will make her happy, too, "All the preparations for your father have been made."

I would have moved him sooner, but she insisted on waiting for the right time. If her father disappeared right after discharging from the hospital, Juan Pablo might grow suspicious.

Her eyes grow wide. "Where will you take him?"

"A remote village in Italy. I have family there who can help look after him."

"I don't know how I can ever repay you, Nicco."

"Do not worry, when the time comes," I assure her, "I will collect your debts like the fucking devil."

"Take whatever you want from me. My life is already yours," she vows.

Cazzo.

Aria sounds like she's willing to die for me. Our eyes find each other. The intensity of our connection thrums between us. Unable to resist, my palm cradles her cheek as I drag my thumb across the soft fullness of her lower lip. A moment of weakness sneaks in.

To kiss her right now would be some kind of heaven.

"When you say things like that," I drawl softly, my eyes never leaving her mouth, "I might just do something that both of us will regret."

Gray eyes darken. It feels as though Aria can read my fucking mind when she whispers, "Would you hate me if I kissed you?"

"Right now?"

Aria nods.

Taking another step, I press my body against hers, reveling in her scent, her heat, her closeness. I can feel every inch of her on against me. My cock fucking aches, desperate for her, even while I force myself to say, "SÌ."

No matter how badly I want Aria, I cannot give in before my trust in her has been restored. My entire life—people approached me for my money, connections, and looks. Everyone had an agenda. No one could be trusted. I wanted Aria to be different. She is not the first to disappoint me, let alone betray me, but she is the first person who lowered my guard enough to truly hurt me.

We are now standing so close that I can count each individual spike of her long, dark lashes. The sweet, floral scent of pear and gardenia intoxicate me. Her scent. Soft breaths fall teasingly upon my neck. Aria does not move away. She fucking leans in. Perfect curves melt into me more and more. Old habits die hard. My hands find her hips. Her hands snake up my shoulders.

Soon, there is not even a whisper of space between us, so I know Aria can damn well feel me pulsing against her when she murmurs, "And yet, you're hard for me."

Hard—is an understatement. My dick is ready to rip a goddamn hole through my pants.

Yet, I shrug, trying to feign indifference. "I am a man, and you are... bellissima."

"You still think I am beautiful after everything I did behind your back?"

She is not beautiful.

She is fucking irresistible.

"I—"

Fantasizing about Aria is one thing. Holding her in my arms—hot, willing, and seductive as hell—is a different beast altogether. Suddenly, it is impossible to speak rationally. Her breasts are crushed against my chest, and it is all I can do to refrain from throwing her on my desk and claiming everything she has to offer me.

Aria's hand, light and teasing, ghosts down my shirt. Inch by teasing inch. When she pauses at the waistband of my trousers, my dick swells in protest. More than anything, I want her to keep going.

She stares up at me, holding my gaze, and I am lost in gray. "What would you do if I asked you to take me? Right here? Right now?"

I would bury my face in her cunt. In a heartbeat. Then, I would replace it with my cock and pound her until we both saw stars.

"Why don't you ask," I groan quietly, "and find out for yourself?"

She seems to consider my invitation. Her hand moves lower—fucking finally—to palm my throbbing length. She grips me tight, tugging up and down, and I think I hear angels sing. I thank God. Her fingertips start teasing the pierced outline of my thickening head. If she keeps going, I am going to come in my pants like some untried teenage boy.

Aria taunts, "Wouldn't you regret it, though?"

I rasp, "SÌ."

"God, Nicco..."

"What?"

"You're driving me crazy." Aria laughs to break the tension, pulling away from me, and, immediately, I feel bereft and robbed.

"The feeling is mutual," I grunt sullenly.

She gives me a stern look. "You and I can't cross this line again."

We can't?

"Sex complicates shit, and the shit that needs to get done right now is already complicated enough."

The shit she is referring to must be Juan Pablo. I do not think I have ever met a bigger cock block in my life.

"Agreed," I sigh.

Unfulfilled desires burn between us. The tension does not dissipate. It simply shifts. The build-up leads to a ticking bomb. We need find release another way—or combust.

A combative gleam sparks in Aria's eyes. She snaps, "Why did you insist on meeting me here, anyway? If you wanted another update on Jaime, we could've done it over the ph—"

I fling back, "Are you ever going to stop calling him Jaime? It is not even his real name."

She shrugs. "I know. But, ever since Hawkins, I've known him as Jaime."

Figlio un cane.

I am so sick of hearing his name fall from her lips. "Fuck him. Come back to London with me."

There is nothing more I want right now than to remove the distance between us. The distance between New York City and London. The distance between her cunt and my cock. Even if we do not end up fucking, she needs to be closer to me than Juan Pablo.

Aria looks up in shock. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Is it because you don't trust me around Juan Pablo?"

I answer truthfully, "Relax. I know that you are working for me. Not him. But the way he talks about you pisses me off."

"What has he said about me?" Aria demands. "And how would you know?"

"I had Carl bug one of his phones."

"Shit," she gasps. "Really?"

I nod, clenching my jaw. "I know how badly Juan Pablo wants you. The way he talks about you is disgusting. He thinks he owns you. He will never let you go."

"Don't worry. I won't let him touch me. I've positioned myself well. His girlfriend hates me, and he can't afford to piss her off. Her uncle is an important man in the cartel. Juan Pablo knows if he gets caught fucking me, they'll come for my throat. He needs to keep me alive to do his dirty work."

"But what if he gets you alone—"

"That's why you sent me all those bodyguards, right?"

"I can send more."

"There's no need. Three is more than enough."

"Still, I do not want Juan Pablo anywhere near you. He is unhinged. You need to get as far away from him as possible."

She glances down. "But my job here isn't done. I need to keep a close eye on Jaime—sorry, I meant to say—Juan Pablo when we send my dad away. I need to convince him that my dad is dead, somehow, so he won't go looking for him."

"Then come to me after you have convinced him."

"I can't. Like I said, I can't leave if you're serious about bringing down his empire. I can't lose his trust. It's not the right time to turn on him yet. After what happened with Sossaman-Hewitt, Juan Pablo learned not to put too many eggs in one basket. He expects me to diversify his assets."

"How much?"

She faces me again. "He's only assigned me $10.5 million dollars. But his family is worth, at least, half a billion."

A drop in the bucket. These numbers tell me that Juan Pablo is still testing Aria, but he trusts her more than Manning. The Gravinski account was worth far less than $10.5 million.

"Does he want you to funnel the funds through Danmore?"

"I think so. But he wants me to apply for a job at J.M. Weiss."

"Did you apply?"

"They already hired me."

Shit.

"What is your title?"

"Manager."

"In which department?'

"Asset Management."

Goddamnit.

This throws a huge wrench in my plans. Aria was supposed to come back to London—to me—after a few months overseas. Once Sossaman-Hewitt determined Manning's fate and Aria's father was safely out of the country, I was planning to bring her back with me. But this no longer seems possible.

A grimace lines my mouth. I can see what Pablo is striving to achieve. He wants to continue setting up shop at Danmore, but he is also spreading his tentacles into J.M. Weiss. Either way, he will not let Aria go. He plans to keep her in a fucking chokehold at J.M. Weiss. Close to him. Away from me.

Trying not to vent my frustration, I demand out of genuine concern for her safety, "Are you still living in that building near Chelsea?"

"Yeah, my apartment's in a good area. You don't have to worry about my safety."

"What is the name of your complex again?"

"The Meridian," Aria answers. "Why?"

"No reason. Just curious."

I am lying, of course. If Aria insists on staying put in New York, then I must find a way to get to her as soon as possible without jeopardizing our plans. Until then, I must make sure that she is untouchable. Right then, I make up my mind to buy the whole damn complex so I can install a state-of-the-art security system throughout the building. I will move out the tenants one by one and move in my security team on every fucking floor. The Meridian will become impenetrable on my watch. A fucking fortress that exists purely to guard mia principessa from Juan Pablo's wrath. I may not be ready to hand over my heart, but I sure as hell will give her everything else that money can buy.