NICCO

"Nothing," Aria mumbles, quickly tucking her phone back into her pocket.

Her troubled expression suggests otherwise. "It does not look like nothing."

"Everything's fine," she insists again. "Really."

"Lies."

"Okay, fine. Maybe everything isn't...fine."

"No?"

Her resolve appears to waver slightly. "I guess, sometimes, it just feels like there's not enough of me to go around. Everyone suddenly wants everything from me yesterday."

"Tell them to fuck off."

"I wish." Aria averts her gaze and laughs. "Speaking of things I need to do, I still need to finalize the hotel and transportation for your sister. She's arriving this weekend, right?"

Wincing, I nod. "Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?"

I sigh. "I love Vivi, but she is not coming as a sister who wishes to spend time with her older brother. She is coming as my parents' executioner. I am not looking forward to the inevitable lecture she will give me about all the ways I have been fucking up at Jackson & James."

"I feel like you're being a bit dramatic."

"You do not know Vivi as well as I do."

"Still, I'm sure she won't be that hard on you. It took a couple of weeks for you to get your act together, but you've been kicking ass as a manager ever since then."

"I appreciate your confidence in me," I note wryly.

Aria arches an eyebrow. "Besides, isn't your sister younger than us? She's still in college. I doubt she'll know enough about Jackson & James to lecture you about anything."

I grumble, "You are not wrong. She is younger than us. My sister turns twenty-two this year. But Vivi is very much an over-achieving perfectionist. She never fails to do her homework. Much like you. But meaner. Whenever she enters a room, I swear, the temperature drops by ten degrees."

"Oh, God," Aria mumbles, "should I be more nervous about meeting her?"

"Do not be."

"Too late. I'm already anxious."

"She will adore you as much as I do. You two are birds of a feather. Rest assured, it is me whom she intends to torment. Not you."

Aria chuckles. "Poor baby. I promise I'll be there to hold your hand whenever your baby sister starts bullying you."

I squint at her with a scowl. "I cannot tell if you are being sweet. Or mocking me."

My girl gives a suspicious-sounding cough. "Anyway, if you don't need anything else, I should probably get going. My never-ending to-do list isn't going to resolve itself."

When she turns to leave, I call her back, "Wait."

Aria glances over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"Can you stay for five more minutes? I wanted to talk to you about our current living situation."

Her eyes flicker. "I...can spare five minutes. What's going on?"

I tell her about my concerns regarding the safety of the neighborhood and the lack of security in her apartment complex. At first, Aria resists the idea of moving into a new place for the remainder of our engagement, but she eventually comes around and agrees to look into rentals located in a safer neighborhood. Like Greenwich or Chelsea. We scroll through several options on the local real estate listings.

After we narrow down our top three picks, Aria offers in her ever-efficient manner, "I'll schedule some apartment showings for us this evening and tomorrow night."

I cough. "I am busy tonight. Please set up the tours for tomorrow."

She casts a questioning look in my direction. "You're busy...tonight?"

"I am."

"That's funny."

I feign ignorance. "What is so funny?"

"In case you've forgotten, I'm in charge of your entire schedule. There weren't any engagements on your calendar for tonight."

Cazzo.

At this moment, I have a choice to make.

Do I lie to Aria about my meeting with Bertie?

Or do I bring her closer to the center of this shitshow?

My heart throbs with discomfort, but, within seconds, emotion trumps logic, and I decide to take a leap of faith and share a small piece of this dark, tangled web with Aria. With a sobering expression, I give her the half-truth, "Monte found someone who might be able to answer questions for me regarding the security breach. I believe meeting with him will help with our cause."

Aria gasps and asks, "Do you need me to go with you?"

"No," I decline readily, "that will not be necessary."

"But—"

"There is already too much on your plate," I interject, "you will be far more helpful if you stay home and focus on finishing those tasks."

Seemingly unconvinced, she frowns. "Are you sure?"

"I am positive."

"Does this mean," Aria prompts, "you plan on attending this meeting alone?"

"Carl's men will tag along for the sake of precaution," I assure her, purposely leaving out the part that tonight may erupt in violence. As much as I want to be completely honest with Aria, I also know that my girl is not one to sit idly by if she learns of the full truth, and I do not want her anywhere near a man like Bertie. Anyone who has ever worked for Manning or the Beltráns is a menace to society.

"Who's this person, anyway?"

"His name is Bertie," I reply, withholding his full name on purpose. "That is all I know."

"Where will you be meeting Bertie? Is it a safe location?"

"We will be meeting in a restaurant," I murmur, "like civilized men."

"Which restaurant?"

I toss out the first name that comes to mind, "Claridge's."

A stubborn, skeptical gleam enters her eyes. For a moment, I am afraid that Aria might fight me, but then, to my surprise, she relents, "Alright...but don't stay out too late. And text me if you need anything. I'll be on standby."

"Of course. I should be home before midnight."

Aria gives me a funny look as though she is not quite sure what to make of this situation, but she does not press me for more details.

Meno Male.

With worry in her gray eyes, something shifts in the air. Pretenses come undone. We give up on the façade of me only being her boss and her only being my assistant when Aria reaches over to stroke my cheek. "I..."

"SÌ?"

"I'm scared, Nicco."

The fearful glimmer in her eyes reminds me of the very first time she revealed her past to me. "Of what?"

I'm scared he'll come for me again.

Except, this time, her answer has changed, "Of losing you."

I turn my face to kiss her palm. "I am not going anywhere."

She pleads softly, "Just don't do anything stupid. I won't forgive myself if anything happens to you."

Her wording here throws me off just a little. Even if something were to happen to me—what is there to forgive?

Aria is mine to protect much in the way that the sun sets at night to give rise to the moon. This is simply the natural order of things. I would not be worthy of being her man if I did not value her life over mine.

"Have faith," I grunt. "I just put a fucking ring on your finger, principessa. I will not do anything jeopardize our future together."

But, I add a silent disclaimer, I am also willing to risk it all to protect this future of ours.

A ghost of a smile pulls at her lips. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Aria's jaw sets as a pensive expression settles over her face. "Nicco?"

"Hmm?"

A strained gleam glistens in her eyes. "I think, very soon, all aspects of our relationship will be put to the test."
"I do not doubt it."

"If it ever feels like I'm behaving... strangely... please look beyond the surface and trust in my intentions. Everything I do from here on out will be for our sake. No matter what happens, no matter what others may say, and no matter what anyone does to try and come between us, know that I am on your side, okay? I'm yours, Nicco, only yours."

Eyes wide, my heart skips a beat. "Fuck."

This is not the first time Aria has said these exact words to me.

Alarmed, she asks, "What's wrong?"

Last time, I had to fuck every single syllable out of her.

I give her a faint smile. "Nothing at all. Simply that..."

"Yes?"

I feel like I am baring a piece of my soul when I confess quietly, "I did not realize how badly I needed those words until they fell from your lips."

For someone as guarded as Aria to utter these syllables so freely to me makes my heart soar.

***

ARIA

Oh, bloody hell.

I can't fucking believe my phone buzzed right in front of Nicco. It nearly gave me a heart attack. I pray that he didn't notice anything.

As Nicco stares back at me, tender-eyed and trusting, guilt seizes my chest, making it hard to draw breath. I'm positive that he doesn't understand the full extent of what I wanted to convey.

How can he?

I've been hiding so much shit from him. Desperation claws at me to reveal everything that's weighing on my mind. But I can't say a word. Not yet. Not until I figure out how to respond to Jaime's text. Not until I uncover what's going on with Appa. Not until I determine what my next move needs to be.

I'm hit by a sense of whiplash. It's like I exist in two separate realities. Last night, Nicco was wholly mine. Our night together keeps replaying in my head.

The beautiful ring.

The filthy fuckfest.

The sweet ache in my chest every time Nicco crosses my mind.

It all feels like a dream. A fever dream that I never want to wake up from.

Right now, though, there's no diamond on my hand. To avoid office gossip, I left my ring at home, and I'm not planning to put it on until Nicco and I attend Manning's dinner party.

Still, after returning to my cubicle, I find myself glancing down at my hand every so often. I can't shake the feeling that there's something missing from my ring finger, but I try not to dwell on it too much. I can't be distracted. I need to focus on what's really important at the moment.

Otherwise, someone might get killed.

I pull out my phone to take a closer look at the most recent text from the Unknown Sender.

Make sure Vitale approves the contract for Donovan Baxter's new contract. Manning will help you merge their assets with the Gravinski account. Keep me updated. You know how to reach me. Get it done by the end of the month. Or else.

Fucking Jaime.

Or else—what?

He'll release our sex tape?

It would hardly be the worst thing he's ever done to me. Even so, a deep-seated desire to retaliate begins to simmer and burn within. My mind starts to piece together all the threads I've collected thus far.

1. The money in the Gravinski account was probably illegally obtained if it has anything to do with Jaime.

2. What do criminals need to do with dirty cash?

3. Clean it.

4. Enter Manning and Jackson & James.

5. Manning appears to be working for Jaime.

6. I was not aware of this until now, but, before his promotion, Appa used to work for Manning.

7. Manning was never Appa's direct supervisor, but that doesn't mean they haven't been collaborating in secret.

8. The anonymous instructions and new phone that Nelson just delivered suggest some kind of connection between Appa and the Gravinski account, which, unfortunately, means Appa may be working for Jaime as well.

My mood darkens. In a way, I'm not surprised. Ever since I was a child, my dad always put work before family. Before my mum. Before me. I didn't know it was possible for my opinion of Appa to sink even lower. Yet, here we are. Not only has Appa sold his soul to The Man, but, now, it seems, nothing remains sacred in his eyes. Rules can be broken and lines are meant to be crossed as long as the rate of return outweighs the risk.

Fucking hell.

My dad might be a criminal. One after another, increasingly distressing questions emerge in my mind.

Is Appa cooperating with Jaime knowingly or unknowingly?

If Appa knows what he's doing, then is he working under threat or acting as a willing accomplice?

It's times like this that I wish blood wasn't thicker than water. Even if my worst suspicions about Appa prove to be true, I'd still try to save him even when I know I don't owe him a fucking thing. That's the fucked-up thing about family. Even now, I don't know how to hate him.

My gaze drifts back to the phone that Nelson delivered to me. After receiving Jaime's latest text, I'm pretty sure the phone was meant for me all along even though it was addressed to Appa. My hands start moving on their own accord. I slip the sim card into the phone and plug it in. The screen lights up, and I send out a text to the anonymous phone number. I keep my wording vague enough to make it seem as though I'm willing to cooperate.

Me: I received the phone and your instructions.

A minute later, the phone lights up with a reply.

Unknown Sender: Hello, Ari.

This fucker.

I force myself to stay calm as I type back a response.

Me: How did you get out of prison, Jaime?

I addressed Jaime by name on purpose. I need to confirm if this phone number belongs to him.

Unknown Sender: You sound disappointed about it.

When he says nothing to deny his name, I don't know whether to feel relieved or terrified about this development. A sick sense of déjà vu creeps over me. I've lost count of how many messages and phone calls, much like this one, the two of us have exchanged over the years. I hate feeling like his little bitch again. But I need Jaime to keep talking to me. Without his trust, I won't be able to slip a knife in his back when the time comes.

Me: It's not that. I was only curious.

Unknown Sender: Let's just say that my father has friends in high places.

Is that how he escaped his prison cell?

My hands tighten around the phone until my knuckles turn white. Must be nice to be so fucking rich and powerful that you can buy your way out of federal prison.

Me: Welcome back to the free world.

Unknown Sender: A lot of time has gone by. Can I still trust you, Ari?

I pause before replying.

Me: You can trust in my fear. I know what will happen if I disappoint you.

Unknown Sender: That's what I like about you. You know me well and know your place even better.

Me: Is there anything else you need me to do?

I'm trying to bait him into giving up more information. Just like before, I'll save every note, every text, and every piece of evidence that can be used to incriminate him. I need to think this through carefully, though, and not act rashly. If Appa is deeply involved with this shit, then what I'm doing right now may end up implicating him, too.

Unknown Sender: No. Just handle Vitale for me. If he's willing to cooperate with us, then no one needs to get hurt.

Me: If you really want my help, I need to know more about the Gravinski account.

Unknown Sender: Fine. Go to Manning. He'll explain everything you need to know.

The wheels in my mind start to spin. Since Nicco will be having dinner with his friend tonight, I'll be free as a bird. Might as well take advantage of it.

Me: Is he available tonight?

Ten minutes go by before I receive a response.

Unknown Sender: Yes. Meet him in his office after Vitale leaves the building.

Me: I'll be there.

My heart pounds away as I glare at the screen, hating every second of this conversation. I don't want anything to do with Manning. But, maybe, after I meet with him, I'll gain enough insight to formulate a concise strategy. A strategy that can attack Jaime without hurting my dad. Until I can shed light on the unknowns, circumvent the risks, and ensure that Jaime's no longer a threat, I refuse to get my man involved and put him in harm's way. Only then will I finally be able to open up a little more to Nicco, and let him know how we can take down these motherfuckers.

Fury rages inside me. I'm so ready to end Jaime once and for all. I want to scream at him: Die, you fucker, and go to hell!

I'm tired of secrets. I'm sick of running from my past. I want to finally be able to confess the whole truth and nothing but to Nicco.

But everything I want—I can't have.

Not yet.

Not yet.

Not yet.

Despair claws at me, but, somehow, I resist its pull. I stay strong. I can't make the same mistakes that Maya did and show my hand too soon to the authorities. Or Nicco. Or anyone else. Too many cooks in the kitchen are a recipe for disaster. I need to keep playing this game on my own for a while longer. This was how I put Jaime in prison years ago.

The road to catch a monster tends to be a long and lonely one, and who knows if I'll be able to survive the second time around?