ARIA

Beside me in bed, Nicco wears an adoring expression on his handsome face. "How can anyone be so... perfect?"

The way he's gazing at me right now stirs up all sorts of emotions. It's too much. It's not enough. I'm scared to give in to it all, because somehow, in the past ten minutes, the chaos that now rules our lives has only grown more chaotic.

1. Nicco proposed to me over a sex tape, and I didn't say "no."

2. As a result, Nicco has become my boyfriend.

3. We're moving in together.

4. I'm so overwhelmed.

Fucking hell.

How did this happen?

Feeling somewhat dazed, I mumble, "You think I'm perfect?"

"I do."

"You haven't seen me at my worst."

A knowing smile appears on his face. "You have not seen me at mine, either."

In a cracked whisper, I push back, "Wh-What if I'm not as good of a girl as I pretend to be?"

"Maybe I do not like good girls."

"I'm probably going to hell."

"I will meet you there," Nicco supplies readily. "With the sins I have committed, there is no need for you to be an angelo. I am a Vitale, after all. My parents did not make their money by being fucking saints."

I feel an untimely urge to laugh. It's making me somewhat hysterical. Nicco's not wrong. No one gets to be that rich without stepping on a few toes.

For a moment, I find myself wondering exactly how the Vitales earned their billions?

Regardless, I suspect Nicco's skeletons are nothing compared to mine. He doesn't have any dark ties to the cartel. His life has always been a champagne and caviar dream. I continue faintly, "You never know, baby. Maybe I'm the devil between us."

As the words leave my tongue, a low, amused chuckle rises from Nicco, but I can't seem to find the humor in this situation. My mind's eye summons his face like an unwanted phantom. Ever since we returned to London, I can't stop thinking about Jaime. Every single one of the action items on my lists was written with him in mind. I'm growing more agitated by the second. We have to find the sicko behind the hack job. For the sake of my sanity, I must confirm that it's not him.

It can't be him.

Yet, my paranoia claps back, blackmail has always been Jaime's specialty.

Terror sinks in as a chilling new suspicion begins to surface: Even if the fucker's still in prison, what if he found someone to help him become his eyes and legs on the outside?

Someone—like Elonzo?

***

"Elonzo tells me there's a snitch at my side."

Elonzo is Jaime's cousin. He has been wanting to get rid of me since day one. In his eyes, I'm an outsider and a liability. Elonzo thinks I'm going to fuck up their operations.

Purposely, I furrow my brow in a show of confusion. "Why would he say that?"

He spits, "He says I shouldn't trust you so much."

I counter, "He doesn't know me like you do."

"But he's family."

"You've known me since Hawkins. Have I ever let you down?"

"No," he grunts, "but there's always a first time for everything."

I play to Jaime's ego. "Elonzo is jealous of you. You know he has always envied you. Because you're smarter. More ruthless. Better at what you do than him in every fucking way. He simply wants to undermine everything you've accomplished."

Jaime's cold, dark eyes pierce my soul. His hand shoots out to grip my chin, jerking my face upward to look at him. "If you ever disappoint me, Ari—"

A glint of silver catches my eye. In his hand, there's a razor blade. The one he uses to mark me whenever I pissed him off back at Hawkins.

I need to calm him down.

With more balls than I ever possessed in his presence, I cut him off in light, sweet tones, "I'd never betray you, Jaime. I know better than anyone what you're capable of. Especially when someone wrongs you. I don't have a death wish."

"You sure about that?" he growls.

"You know me. I'm a simple bitch. I just want to make some extra cash on the side for tuition."

Jaime stares at me for a good long while. I look back at him with wide eyes. It takes everything inside me to keep my expression soft. Thank God Jaime can't read my mind. The hatred and fury I feel for this man rages like a wildfire.

I stare back, fearlessly, as though I have nothing to hide. But, soon, fear seeps in as he continues to glare at me.

Has he caught wind of what I'm planning to do?

I reassure myself: Jaime is suspicious of everyone. He doesn't know what I'm doing behind his back.

And it needs to stay that way if I want to survive this dangerous game I'm playing.

***

No.

Not Elonzo.

It only takes a moment of reconsideration to crush this theory.

Jaime's man on the outside can't be Elonzo. There's nothing but bad blood between them. Even now, Jaime's probably fuming in his prison cell, dreaming up gruesome ways he wants to gut the bastard. In his eyes, Elonzo is the traitor who sold him out to the cops. Jaime doesn't know that I was the one who pit them against each other.

A shot of unease courses through my veins—or does he?

God.

I hope not. I left the US for London as soon as he was convicted and never looked back.

How did Jaime even find me?

Hiding the frenzy in my mind, I glance back at Nicco as he drawls, "I have seen this look on you. You wear it often at work."

"What look?"

"The look that tells me you are preparing for war."

"Maybe I am," I hum.

"You are," he observes with a wry expression, "a paradox."

I blink. "A paradox?"

"I have seen you in action on a daily basis. You are a force to be reckoned with. A force that could be unstoppable, I think, if you let go of fear, of what you hide from others, and simply let yourself become whom you are meant to be."

He sounds like a goddamn fortune cookie. Yet, his words tug at me. Something tightens in my chest. This time, Nicco's dead wrong. I'm no force to be reckoned with. I'm not unstoppable, either. Maya's face flickers before me. I couldn't save my best friend. My palms rest on his chest. Each finger tightens on his shirt, clutching the fabric as I try not to spiral away. I gulp. "I won't lie. I'm scared of what will happen to us if the tape drops. But I'm going to do everything I can to fight back. For your sake."

"Why must you always put so much pressure on yourself?"

"I can't help it."
"Even if the world ends tomorrow," he murmurs gently, "I will be fine as long as I have you by my side."

"That's one bold statement."

"I never hold back when it comes to you."

I stare back at him. Awestruck. "Why are you so good to me?"

Nicco reaches for me. His thumb and forefinger cradle my chin, tilting my lips up to meet his mouth for a kiss. "Because you are mine."

His touch comforts me. His kiss melts my senses. Both remind me of everything I stand to lose. Last night, I'd hoped to keep my eyes fixed straight ahead. But, now, I'm not so sure it's possible. Not with the perp still at large. Instinct screams at me: It's Jaime, it's Jaime, it's Jaime. I don't know how the fucker managed to hack Nicco's security system from prison, I don't know what he's after this time, but I think he's back, and I need to stop him. With renewed determination, I ask, "So... what's the plan tomorrow?"

He frowns. "Tomorrow? I guess I should go back to my apartment and pack up my shit. Then..."

"Then?"

"I move in with my... girlfriend."

Girlfriend.

These two syllables do something to me. Because he's talking about me. I feel giddy and nervous. "Oh, fuck. Is this really happening?"

Our gazes linger. Again, the emotion in Nicco's beautiful green eyes stirs up a longing too intense to label. I've let my guard down around him more than anyone else. It's not wise. He keeps looking at me like I'm perfect when it couldn't be further from truth. Part of me wants to push him away before my ugliness starts to show. This urge feeds into my fear and panic, pulling me in opposing directions. I want to stand by Nicco as we face impending scandal. Yet, I also have to protect him from Jaime.

"You and I should get some rest while we can," I suggest. "Tomorrow—we go to war. Get ready to fight dirty."

"I cannot wait for us to take down these fuckers together." Nicco shuffles closer in bed until my back is flush against his chest. He then drapes his arm over my waist and whispers, "Sogni d'oro, principessa."

Willing myself to relax, I nestle into his larger frame. "Goodnight, baby."

Within minutes, exhaustion takes over, and I fall asleep beside Nicco. I don't know how many hours slip away from us. I dream of Jaime and Maya again, though. Another fucked up nightmare. This time, Jaime kills Maya right in front of me. I rush to her side, shrieking and crying, and pull her limp body into my arms. When I turn her face toward me, however, Maya's brown eyes turn green, and, suddenly, I'm gazing at Nicco's lifeless face.

A jolt of horror shoots through me.

I awaken with a near scream. It takes a while to calm my racing heart. This shit feels like a fucking omen. My pillow is damp. Trembling, I'm beyond shaken. Instinctively, I reach for Nicco, seeking reassurance that he's alive and well, but my fingers find nothing but air. Anxiously, I open my eyes. I see that his side of the bed is unoccupied.

Did he go back to his apartment already?

To pack?

I grab my phone and scroll through the messages. Nothing from him. Frowning, I prop myself up on the mattress and glance around our empty-looking hotel suite.

Where the hell did he g—

A chime from my phone cuts through the silence. After taking a second to collect myself, I check the notification.

It's a sound clip?

There's no message attached. No explanation. Just an audio file. It's from the unknown sender, though. Damn it. Not this again.

Do I even want to open it?

Maybe I should delete it. I stare at the file for a few more seconds, stressing over what to do. Finally, I click it against my better judgment. Two muffled voices, a man and a woman, start moaning and grunting through my speaker. My eyes turn round. Jesus, fuck. These two mofos are totally having sex. I hear some white noise in the background. It sounds like water from a shower. I frown in confusion. This entire thing sounds like an audio clip from some low-budget porno. When the water turns off, the man and woman's voices become much clearer. I can actually catch a few snippets of their conversation.

"What are you doing, baby?"

Weird.

"Claiming what is mine."

Why does this pair sound so familiar?

"I'm already yours."

Oh, God.

"Who do you belong to, principessa?"

That's when it hits me.

"You, Nicco. Only you."

It's us.

The man and woman on the audio clip are Nicco and me. My phone falls from my grasp as blood drains from my face. The room feels ice-cold, all of a sudden.

***

NICCO

I have been running on adrenaline all fucking night. When I finally close my eyes to rest, exhaustion hits like a ton of bricks. In seconds, I am out cold. God knows how many hours have passed when the low hum of a buzzing notification cuts through my fog of slumber. Instantly alert, the muscles in my body seize up. With everything that has gone to shit so far, I doubt this is good news. I reach for my phone, careful not to disturb Aria. She remains fast asleep beside me. Phone in hand, I frown at the screen. It is a text from Monte.

Monte: Carl is on his way to your room. He will scan your belongings for tracking devices.

Cazzo.

Carl Hansen is the security expert who has been in charge of overseeing mia famiglia's properties and assets in London. Upon Aria's insistence, I contacted Monte to set this up before we fell asleep. This was one of the action items under Section II from her list.

I take a moment to study her resting form. Awake, she is an indomitable ball of energy. There appears to be no obstacle too great for her to scale and no problem too complex for her to solve. Yet, now, in her sleep, Aria's vulnerability calls to me.

Should I wake my girl and let her know that Carl is coming?

My hand moves on its own accord. Tenderness fills my chest as I touch her cheek. I keep my caress light, barely grazing her skin. Aria looks exhausted. She needs rest. We have endured so much stress in the past twenty-four hours. With a grimace, I retract my hand and decide to let her be. I do not have the heart to wake her. Instead, I reply to Monte, letting him know that his message has been received. Then, I notify Carl.

Nicco: I will let you in my suite. But work quietly. My assistant is sleeping.

Not long after, Carl arrives with his test equipment. He starts scanning everything in the vicinity for radio frequencies and signals that are emitted by wireless cameras, cellular bugging devices, unwanted GPS trackers, and bug transmitters. I must give him credit. The man is thorough as fuck. Not only does Carl comb through my shit, he goes through Aria's stuff as well. Her purse. Her phone. Even the gold heart-shaped locket she removed from her neck and set down on the nightstand.

When Carl is finished with his work, I give him an expectant look. "Did you find anything?"

An awkward look passes over Carl's face. His eyes dart toward Aria for a moment. My girl shuffles on the mattress, but she does not stir. "It might be better if we spoke... elsewhere."

His hesitation to speak in front of Aria does not escape my notice. "Why?"

"Please, sir, come down to the lobby with me for a minute," he insists.

Scowling, I follow Carl out of my suite. Every muscle in my body feels tense as hell.

Why is he refusing to talk to me in front of Aria?