ARIA

One minute I'm falling from the yacht. The next, an icy splash stings my skin, enveloping me in terror. The river's current grabs ahold of me. It draws me away from the boat. Screaming for help, every muscle in my body strains toward the boat. The guests on board are hanging over the railing, gawking at me. They're shouting man overboard and someone save her over and over again. One of the men throws me a life preserver ring. I try to paddle toward it, but my muscles don't listen.

I begin sink.

Within seconds, my head goes under. Shit.

Why is it so dark down here?

Every nerve in my body freezes. I'm so cold that I can hardly think. I'm running out of air. I try to move my legs and arms toward the surface of the water. But my body is a deadweight. More water fills my lungs. I'm choking now, but I can't scream anymore.

Is it over for me?

Nicco's face flashes in front of me.

My heart cries with anguish. I refuse to go before I can mend the cracks between us. I don't want to give up. I'm not ready to say goodbye. I still have too much to do. Juan Pablo is the one who should die, and Appa still needs me.

I start kicking my feet with renewed vigor.

Suddenly, I feel someone's arm, strong and sure, wrap around my waist.

Who is it?

I can't tell, but I feel my body being pulled upward. Someone's here to rescue me. The panic in me calms a little even though my lungs are burning. The water isn't as dark now.

Does this mean I'm getting closer to the surface?

Sunlight dances through the water. It's quite pretty. I've never seen anything like it. Another second ticks by. Then, Maya's face appears. She welcomes me with a warm smile.

The fuck?

Her hand reaches for mine.

Wait, no, not yet!

Tears fill my eyes as I pull my hand away.

Someday, Maya, we'll meet again.

But not today. I can't die today. The arm around me keeps tugging. We still haven't made it to the surface. My body feels even heavier. Try as I might, I can't seem to keep my eyes open. They drift shut, and a dreadful, numbing blackness settles in.

***

NICCO

When you are about to lose the other half of your heart, only love remains. Death has a funny way of putting things in perspective. Resentments melt away. Sins can be forgiven.

As I dive into the river, the water is cold as fuck. My muscles are burning, straining, as I try to reach Aria in time. She keeps sinking, and, for the life of me, I cannot seem to swim fast enough. Her hand is almost within reach, though. I do not give up. There is no question in my mind. I must save her. Hell, even if she shoved another knife in my back and lied to my face about Sossaman-Hewitt, I would still save her.

With unwavering determination, I cut through the water with faster and faster strokes. My hand stretches out for hers. For some reason, though, she pulls away. I am almost out of air. But I do not give up. Despite my lung being on the brink of collapse, I swim closer and closer and closer—

There.

When, at last, my arm loops around her waist, a soul-quenching sense of relief flows through me. Kicking both feet, I haul both of us up toward the water's surface. I sputter and cough as we break through. Air replenishes my lungs. Adrenaline is bursting through my veins when I carry her back onto the yacht. As I lay her down, everyone crowds around us. There is so much fucking noise. I ignore them all. My desperate gaze searches for hers. But Aria's gray eyes are closed. I check her pulse.

She is not breathing.

Immediately, I use both palms to press twice against Aria's lower diaphragm and then close my lips around her mouth, pouring my breaths into her. I repeat these motions again and again.

Every nerve in my body begins to scream—no, no, no, I cannot lose her!

Not like this.

Per favore, Dio, not like this.

***

ARIA

Am I dying?

Am I already dead?

When my eyes open, I gasp for air. I'm shocked when actual oxygen—instead of icy river water—enters my lungs. I no longer feel cold. A sudden awareness hits me: I'm not in the river anymore.

Where am I?

My fingers brush against smooth sheets. I think I'm laying on bed. My hair remains somewhat damp, but my body is dry. I've been stripped down to my bra and underwear. But there's a blanket over me, keep me warm and covered.

"You are awake," I hear someone sigh. It's a man's voice. Relief drenches his words. In even softer tones, he mutters, "Grazie a Dio."

Confusion further clouds my already muddled brain.

I blink and meet fierce green eyes. "Nicco?"

He's sitting on the edge of the bed beside me. Little by little, my senses sharpen enough to take notice of his appearance. Nicco's olive complexion appears paler than usual. He's shirtless, but his shorts are still on. They're wet, though, and his hair is damp like mine. He looks beautifully disheveled.

I string the pieces together, "Were you the one who pulled me out?"

In silence, he nods with a scowl even while his hand reaches for mine. He caresses my palm absently-mindedly in his grasp, and I can't tell if he's trying to comfort me—or himself. As his fingers rubs against my pinky finger, a trickle of alarm runs through me. There's nothing there. My finger feels bare. That's when I realize that it's missing.

My eyes widen with dismay. Losing it feels symbolic, somehow. I wore it every day as a reminder of my mistakes. Of his love that I lost. I feel like crying all over again. "My ring! I-It's gone. It must've slipped off when I went overboard. I don't know how yet, but, I swear, I'll find a way to get it b—"

"Fuck the ring," he growls.

"How can you say such a thing?"

"I can always buy you another one."

"That's not the point. That ring meant everything to me."

"But your life is more important, no?"

"If you say so." I want Nicco to stop glowering at me, so I make an attempt to swing our conversation toward something that might please him, "Did you see the news about Sossaman-Hewitt?"

Instead of smiling, he glares at me. "I could not care less about Sossaman-Hewitt right now."

"But—"

He cuts me off, "I cannot believe you actually fell in the fucking river! Idiota."

I protest quietly, "It wasn't my fault."

Some drunk girl bumped into me.

Nicco's jaw clenches. "Mi dispiace. I was not trying to blame you. I was simply... overcome... when I saw you go underwater."

A stark moment of morbidity chills my soul.

I almost died today.

I grimace. "Thank you for saving me."

Steadily, he returns, "I did not have a choice."

My head snaps up, and our eyes meet. Distress weighs on his face. I attempt to lighten the mood, using sarcasm to dispel the somberness of the moment, "I see you changed your mind about watching me... drown."

"If you are trying to be funny," he growls, "I am not laughing."

I grumble, "There's no need to be in such a pissy mood."

Nicco glares daggers at me. "I almost lost you today. There is every reason for me to be upset."

I wince. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"When I first hauled you back on to the yacht, you were not breathing. My fucking world shattered. I thought you were d—"

His voice catches.

"But I'm dead," I reassure him softly, "because of you."

The reality of how close I'd come to drowning sinks in even more. For a moment, he stays silent. We're both lost in thought. I look away. My gaze flits around, and I don't recognize our surroundings. We're definitely not on the yacht anymore.

Just to kill the silence, I ask, "Where are we?"

"Newman lent us one of his guestrooms."

"In his house?"

"SÌ," Nicco answers. "After I carried you back on board, I asked him to bring the boat to shore."

He shuffles closer to me, then, and the mattress shifts beneath his weight.

I swallow, noting softly, "Shit, I owe you. Again."

He's truly my knight in shining Armani.

"At this rate," Nicco teases, "it will take several lifetimes for you to repay your debts."

"You already know I'll do anything you ask of me."

"If you are serious about repaying me," he asserts while his hand lifts to cradle my face with tenderness, "do not ever do this again. You are not allowed to die on me, capisci?"

The contrast between his sharp words and gentle touch makes my chest grow tight.

"I will live," I murmur, "just to spite you."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

The air throbs with tension. Despite the breakthrough from Sossaman-Hewitt, there remains much that needs to be resolved between us. Nicco doesn't look like he wants to talk it out right now, though.

Neither do I.

Drawn by an invisible force, my body tilts toward him. My fingertips graze his cheek. His hand lifts to catch mine, squeezing my hand gently in his grasp. Mere inches separate us on the bed. His head dips down. Both eyes widen when his mouth crushes mine in a searing, punishing kiss. I moan in surrender, clutching to his bare chest. With an echoing groan of desperation, he rolls on top of me, pinning beneath him on the mattress.

"Wait, Nicco, you'll regret it afterward. We shouldn't do this," I protest in a half-assed attempt to be rational, "not until we've had a proper chat—"

Our eyes lock. Green eyes glisten with distress as he pushes back, "But if I had come a moment too late..."

"There's no point in dwelling on the what ifs," I insist. "It's over. I'm fine, okay?"

"Easier said than done. You were not breathing at one point," Nicco rasps, "and I cannot wipe that cold, lifeless image of you from my mind."

"Then let me prove to you," I offer thickly, "that I'm neither cold nor lifeless. Take me, Nicco, and you'll know just how hot and full of life my body feels when you sink into me..."

Reservations be damned. My brush with death takes precedence. Reason dissipates. Restraint unleashes.

Nicco groans into my neck, clutching on to me as though he is the one who might drown now. "You will be the death of me, principessa..."

Nicco and I are reduced to impulse and desire. Our bodies come together, burning like twin flames. With one hand, he caresses the crease between my thighs, pressing his palm on my clit I rub against him. My breathing quickens. Nicco's scorching body heat chases away the cold from the river. I feel so alive. Pleasure climbs through my veins. My hand slips lower as well. I find him solid, a rock, and crying at the pierced tip. He bucks into my grip, and I hold him firmly as I tug up and down. Pleasure swirls around us, binding me to him, him to me, until I can no longer tell where his bliss ends and mine begins.

Nicco's lips drift from my mouth down my neck, nipping sucking, kissing a fevered trail down to my breasts. He shoves my bra aside and takes a nipple in his mouth, swirling the hardening tip with his tongue. His ear is pressed against my heart. I'm sure he can hear the hammering beats as our passion crescendos to the point of no return.

With his ear still resting on my chest, he pants in husky tones, "Dio, I will never tire of this sound. Your heartbeat. It is the most beautiful rhythm in the world. It proves that you are alive and well in my arms."