ARIA

With the phone cradling my ear, I hold my breath for Nicco's response. Stakes have never been higher, and the success of my plan now hinges on entirely him. I can't do this alone. Silence strains through the receiver in a stretch of uncertain seconds. Waiting is torture, but I try to be patient.

Why won't he say something?

On edge, I check my location on Google Maps. Then, I glance out the car window, searching for something to redirect my anxiety. The Uber continues to weave in and out of traffic.

Hang in there, Appa, I'm coming.

My fingertips touch the glass as the vehicle passes a row of shadowy brownstones. I recognize the street from the map. We're almost at the hospital. My body sways as the driver takes a turn. The city is a blur as buildings fly by.

My thoughts begin to blur, too.

Is Jaime going to be at the hospital?

I wish I had more time to figure out his angle.

What happens if Jaime is waiting to trap me, and Nicco rejects my offer?

Fuck.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

Clutching onto my phone, I appeal to him with a touch more urgency, "Please say something. Anything. I know you have every right to tell me to fuck off, what I've proposed is pretty wild, but I need you now more than ever. Will you give me a chance to prove myself?"

Through the line, I hear him clear his throat. A seeming eternity passes before Nicco puts me out of my misery. Both eyes grow wide when he actually gives the green light, "Fine."

"Really?"

"Only because Vivi confirmed everything that you shared about Sossaman-Hewitt."

It feels like Christmas came early. My heart pounds with relief. Thank God Vivi sided with me. Thank God she didn't give Nicco another reason to hate me. Even though I suspect that Vivi probably had ulterior motives when passing along such sensitive and secretive insider information, especially with an outsider like me, I make a mental note to send her a thank you card, anyway, with the most expensive bouquet of flowers that I can afford.

"I am curious, though."

The sharpness in his tone makes me feel uneasy. "About what?"

"You have hidden your cards from me for so long," he drawls. "Enlighten me, principessa, what is driving this sudden desire to reveal your entire fucking hand?"

Nicco sounds like he's mocking me when he calls me princess. His sarcasm doesn't faze me. Smoothly, I counter, "Everyone has their breaking point."

"Give me one good reason to believe you."

"I'm planning to send you a flash drive soon. There will be documents on it outlining the details of my plans. Go ahead and have your men cross-check the data. Run it through a fine-tooth comb. You'll see that I'm not fucking around with you this time."

Nicco flings back, "Even if Carl does not find any red flags on your drive, I would rather bathe in acid than trust you again."

Acid, huh?

Seems a bit dramatic.

I grumble, "Don't trust me then. Let the results speak for themselves when we put Jaime's head on a spike."

Unconvinced, he grunts, "Hmm."

Undeterred, I attempt to sway Nicco once more, "You asked why I'm suddenly revealing my hand. Remember what you once told me? The sky literally needs to fall, and the world must burn to ash in order for a person to even contemplate deviating from their original path."

He demands, "Are you telling me that your sky has... fallen?"

Closing my eyes for a brief second, I replay every wrong turn and every misstep that led to the bloody package in my hotel room.

Weakly, I confess, "That's exactly what I've been trying to tell you. My dad's in the hospital because I failed to keep him safe, there's a psychopathic criminal who won't leave me alone, and, now, I've lost you. Shit can't get any worse."

Nicco goes quiet again. The lull suggests that he might be deep in thought. Tensing up, I ready my battered heart for the insults and accusations to follow. Seconds tick by. Nicco doesn't spit out another word. It hits me then. He's probably dying to move on from this topic since it has nothing to do with our plans for Jaime.

Silly me for thinking otherwise.

Feeling lost and vulnerable, I scramble for an excuse to let him go. "What time is it over there?"

"2 am."

"Thought so. I feel like I've kept you up for too long. You must be tired. Why don't we call it a n—"

"Wait."

I stiffen. "What?"

Nicco asks in concerned tones, "Something went down in Birmingham, didn't it? It must have scared you. That is why you left the UK in such a hurry."

I'm surprised that he's bringing this up. Hesitantly, I confirm, "You're... not wrong. Something definitely happened in Birmingham."

"Tell me."

I lower my voice so the driver can't hear, mumbling, "I... found a package in my hotel room."

He prompts, "After you left Oliver's party?"

I frown, wishing I could see Nicco's face and read his reaction. "Yes."

It sounds like Nicco doesn't know anything when he asks, "What was in it?"

A literal fucking piece of my dad that you, supposedly, removed from his person.

As my lips part to answer him, the threat of inciting Jaime's wrath looms over me. Instinct urges me to keep my mouth shut. Old habits die hard. But I fight against this age-old fear. I don't want to be closed off anymore.

Especially with Nicco.

I tear up a little and whisper, "Something that made me realize I can't do this shit on my own anymore."

"What do you mean?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. Truth dangles off the tip of my tongue. It feels strange and completely unnatural when the words slip out one after another, "Jaime took off my dad's finger and sent it to me. He tried to pin it on you."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Unfortunately."

I can't believe that I snitched on Jaime. The feeling is indescribable since I've never dared to be so brazen. It feels all kinds of wrong in the most satisfying way possible.

Anxiously, he asks, "Do you believe that I was the one who hurt your father?"

"Not for a second."

"Good," sighs Nicco, "because I have never touched your father."

"Now do you believe me," I murmur pointedly, "when I say that I have every reason in the world to end Jaime?"

"Not if I bury him first."

"Get in line."

"I swear, this fucker keeps causing trouble with every breath he takes. I should have set him on fire. Instead of the goddamn villa."

Hold up.

What villa?

What fire?

Maybe Nicco wasn't joking when he claimed to burn down that castle for me. Alarm shoots up when I put two and two together.

I gasp. "Don't tell me you set his house on fire."

"What if I did?"

"Is that why you were out of office right before Manning's party?"

"You ask too many questions."

He's totally deflecting right now. Nicco might never admit his guilt to me, but, judging by the sinister edge in his tone, I'm sure he did something unspeakable to Jaime. Fairly recently, too. Panic sets in. He's wading in deep waters, taunting a shark with his blood. I'm so fucking scared for him. The fear rises and rises until a dam erupts. Everything that I've held back for years bursts forth in a stream of unhinged consciousness.

I start rambling like a mindless idiot, "Oh, God. Do you have any idea what Jaime's family does to people who cross them?"

"I can use my imagination."

I don't hesitate to drive my point home, "He killed my best friend when she tried to go to the authorities."

Nicco seems to take a moment to process the bomb I just dropped on him. "How... did she die?"

Emotions cloud my vision as wetness streams down my cheeks, and a faint stammer softens my voice, "R-Right before graduation, her body was found in a ditch. Apparently, she drove herself off the road. Her car was totaled. They found traces of meth and alcohol in her system during the autopsy."

"You don't think it was an accident, do you?"

In choked tones, I force myself to share my pain, "Not at all. I knew Maya better than anyone. We lived together in the dorms. I saw her every fucking day. She worked her ass off to get into a good college. Why would she kill herself right when we were about to leave Hawkins? More than anything, Maya wanted us to start a new life. Away from Jaime. The girl never touched drugs. Or alcohol. She might've been depressed, but who wouldn't be after everything Jaime put us through? I'm sure Jaime went after her because she was trying to put him in prison."

"Fuck, Aria! Why didn't you tell me about all of this sooner?"

Wincing, I pull the phone away from my ear as his voice blares through the receiver. Nicco sounds genuinely upset.

"Believe it or not," I admit at last, "I kept quiet to protect you from Jaime. Maya's death was ruled an accident by the authorities, and Jaime wants to keep it that way. I didn't want you to get involved because, then, he'd go after you."

"Yet, you have hurt me more by hiding the truth this whole time."

A punch of remorse hits me hard. "I... am beginning to see the error of my ways. All too clearly."

Hindsight is such a cruel bitch.

"For the record, there was never a need for you to protect me. Some might say that, not too long ago, my family and his family were not so different."

Right then, the meaning behind his statement seizes my full attention. "Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"

There's a shrewdness in his tone when Nicco insists, "I have told you nothing because that chapter of our lives is long gone. We are in banking now, real estate development, and tech start-ups. But I promise you, Aria, I can hold my own against Jaime."

My gaze narrows with understanding. Be that as it may, the Vitales definitely earned their billions outside of investment banking. I should be frightened of Nicco. Given what I know about criminals, I should reject everything he stands for. His family is capable of the same violence and brutality as Jaime's family. Yet, love has made me a hypocrite because his sins call to mine in a way Jaime's evil never did. I want to sic his demons on Jaime. My thoughts run rampant as I grow even more curious about the Vitales' shadowy past.

Were they involved in arms trafficking?

Drugs?

Or something else?

I doubt he'll tell me anything, but I ask, anyway, "What kind of businesses were you guys running?"

"You are asking too many fucking questions again, principessa."

"I see."

"All you need to know is that," Nicco continues calmly, "Juan Pablo, or Jaime, or whatever the hell he wants to call himself, is a dead man for fucking with you and your friend. We should not let her die in vain. Just give me the word, and I will put a bullet in each knee if that is the only way to make the fucker crawl. He will beg for forgiveness. On the fucking ground. If this is not enough to bring you peace of mind, then I will hand over my gun, so you can pull the final trigger and send him to hell yourself."