ARIA

My concern fades when Nicco draws me toward his large, solid frame, "Why do you look so scared, Aria?"

"Probably because I'm terrified," I admit, wrapping my arms around him to burrow even closer. I can feel the beat of his heart against my chest. The strong, steady cadence soothes me.

He murmurs against my temple, "What is bothering you the most?"

God.

Where do I even begin?

"I..."

Nicco's arms tighten around my waist. He makes me feel safer.

"Tell me. Per favore," he urges gently.

Like a dam bursting, my fears come tumbling out in a rambling outburst, "I-I'm scared of what might happen to us. I hate giving up control to some faceless fucker who can ruin our lives with the click of a button. I'm scared of seeing you get hurt."

"Put your fears to rest. I will end anyone who tries to hurt us," Nicco vows.

His voice brims with quiet fury while guilt eats at me. Our relationship was thrust from zero to one hundred overnight. We're going full throttle now. It's both insane and exhilarating to think about. I bet this horrible position is the last thing Nicco ever wanted to find himself trapped in. I can't help hating myself for being the reason why Jaime has now become a threat to Nicco.

A heaviness weighs on me when I ask, "Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Getting involved with me?"

"Never," he insists in gruff tones, "you have become more important to me than you know, Aria."

Feeling somewhat dazed, I exclaim, "I can't believe we're actually moving in together and getting engaged. What a fucking plot twist."

A low chuckle slips out of Nicco. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, no?"

I laugh uneasily. "I guess that's one way of putting it."

With a softened expression, Nicco leans over to kiss away my distress. His hand reaches for mine again. His thumb and forefinger caress my ring finger, circling the very spot where an engagement ring might fit. "I know this is all meant for show, but it feels very real to me. I do not know if a selfish bastard like me is even capable of love, but you are always on my mind and very much in my heart. Come what may, I stand with you. You are mine to protect now, principessa."

I flash him a look of awe. "Fuck, Nicco. When you say shit like that, it makes me want to believe..."

He nuzzles my cheek affectionately. "Believe in what?"

Nothing about our engagement is supposed to be real, but everything about Nicco makes my heart sing despite the dangers lurking ahead of us.

I turn my head to kiss him, whispering, "In love."

***

Time stops for no one even when the world feels like it's spinning out of control. As my fellow Londoners would say: Keep calm and carry on.

Nicco and I have agreed to keep our mouths shut about the engagement for another week or so. He wants me to meet his sister first and introduce me as his fiancée. This way, he believes, it'll feel like the real fucking deal on all fronts.

Only then will we drop the first hint about our engagement at Manning' dinner party. I'll show up at the event with a ring on my finger and let office gossip do the rest. We aren't planning to release anything on social media just yet. Anything too showy at this point might feel staged. Our engagement needs to appear as authentic as possible. Every detail must be released with painstaking care, delivered to the public in believable, bite-sized, organic increments.

Or else Jaime won't buy it.

The next morning, Nicco and I arrive at Jackson & James an hour before our first meeting. For now, we enter the building as though he's just my boss, and I remain no more than his assistant.

The second I follow Nicco into his office, we're bombarded by an avalanche of meetings, phone calls, and urgent emails in addition to all the loose ends that need to be tied up from our time away. I do my best to rearrange his schedule so we can get shit under control, but I'm struggling to pretend that any of it matters. These "urgent" issues seem so trite compared to what we're dealing with behind the scenes.

Still, I force myself to put a game face on, the mask I show the rest of the world, and get to work.

I keep calm. I carry on. I act like I'm not under threat from Jaime. Like he doesn't have a sex tape of Nicco and me. Like everything's fine-fucking-dandy, and the only thing I'm worried about is sorting through my 267 unread emails, prepping for meetings, and getting the contractual negotiations finalized for Donovan Baxter's clients.

I grind away as I've always done with cool, collected machine-like efficiency, even though, on the inside, my nerves are ready to shatter. I can't stop checking my phone. It's like a nervous tick every time I glance at my notifications. Jaime hasn't tried to contact me again, but the fact that he could reach me at any given moment is a horrible, sickening feeling.

Keep calm, I remind myself again and again, and carry on.

As the morning flies by, I make a point to carve out some time to address the action items from my list. Because this shit can't wait. I spend a good chunk of my day poke around for information relating to the Gravinski account. I send Nicco's security team to Appa's flat to check for bugs and hidden cameras, I call some PR firms to check on their pricing and services, and, during my lunch hour, I finally get around to the one task that I've been dreading. I look up Jaime's criminal records to see if anything has changed regarding his ten-year prison sentence, and what I discover doesn't surprise me after everything that has happened, but it shakes me to my core, nonetheless. For whatever reason, his criminal records are no longer public record. I can't access them. I try, of course, not to lose my shit over this change in status.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why have his records been sealed, all of a sudden?

I don't know what the fuck is going on anymore. All I can do is try not to obsess over the unknowns and focus on solving the concrete problems right in front of me. The rest of the afternoon zips along at overwhelming speeds.

Keep calm.

Carry on.

Carry on.

Carry on.

By the time I've wrapped up the most pressing issues, it's already dark outside. The clock reads 9:52 pm. Our entire floor looks like a maze of empty cubicles. Most people from our department have clocked out by now. Although, they're probably still chained to their laptops and phones. Everyone at Jackson & James is expected to work from home even well after work hours.

Drained, anxious, and on edge, I feel more than ready to get the hell out of here, too. Still buzzing with adrenaline from the day's events, I wander over to Nicco's office and poke my head through the door. "It's getting pretty late. Ready to go, boss?"

His green eyes remain glued on his laptop screen. For once, he appears to be so engrossed in his work that my question falls on deaf ears.

I enter his office and close the door behind me. He continues to ignore me. I clear my throat, loudly, to get his attention. "Nicco?"

Slightly startled, he looks up. "Ah, Aria! Sorry. What did you say?"

Amusement pulls at my lips. I can hardly believe my eyes. Nicco fucking Vitale is "working hard" for once. Gone is the "hardly working" playboy from our first day at Jackson & James. "I said—ready to go, boss?"

He blinks. "You intend to head out?"

Still smiling, I nod. "Well, yeah. It's almost ten."

Nicco glances at his watch. "Shit. I lost track of time. Monte would not stop calling me today. It was impossible to get anything done with all the interruptions."

"Did he share anything of interest?"

His expression hardens like an unreadable mask. "Not really."

My eyes widen slightly. A red flag goes up. I can't shake the feeling that Nicco might be hiding something from me—

I stop myself right there.

God, I need to stop overanalyzing every little thing. Or else I'm going to drive myself crazy. Jaime is the enemy here. Not Nicco.

Pushing aside my suspicions, I glance at his laptop. "What have you been working on?"

His green eyes shift to the side. "Nothing, really. Just some more urgent shit that, apparently, cannot wait until tomorrow."

"If you need help with something, I can stick around."

He frowns. "No, no. Go home and rest. You have already overworked and outdone yourself today. As usual. I will have Nils Junior drive you home first and meet up with you once I am done here."

Surprise hits me.

Is Nicco planning to stay in the office?

Without me?

To keep... working?

Damn.

With my stilettos clicking across the hardwood, I quickly close the distance between us and sidle up beside his desk. "Are you sure?"

Nicco flashes me a tired-looking smile and tugs me onto his lap. "There is nothing I would like more than to keep you with me at all times, but you should go."

Threading both hands behind his neck, I gaze at him with uncertainty. I feel guilty about leaving him here. Setting aside our personal relationship, my entire job description is still to assist him, after all. "How much longer are you planning to stay?"

"Not long," he mutters, "maybe another hour or so."

It has barely been two months since I met him, but Nicco has changed so much. As I suspected from early on, I think he's always had it in him—the intelligence, the drive, the confidence—to succeed in whatever he puts his mind to. Otherwise, Nicco wouldn't have been able to step into his role as manager at a dog-eat-dog place like Jackson & James so quickly and seamlessly. He simply had no interest in fulfilling his potential.

Until recently.

My eyes linger on the determined set of his jaw and the decisive gleam in his eyes. He looks fearless as we ready ourselves to face the incoming chaos. At this very moment, Nicco has never looked more attractive to me.

"I never thought I'd be saying this to you, but please don't work too hard." Without thinking about it, I reach over to loosen Nicco's tie and undo the top button on his shirt so he can be more comfortable. "Better?"

"Much better," Nicco says with a crooked grin. "You should act like my fiancée more often."

I lower my lashes. "That can be arranged."

As I move my hand from his collar, his hand darts over to catch my wrist. He guides my palm to his lips, kissing me there. "Spoil me, principessa. I demand it."

Chuckling softly at his shamelessness, I decide right then to go home early so that I have some time to prepare a special surprise for him. We've both been pushed to our limits over these past two days. Nicco has a point. He deserves to be spoiled tonight.

"In that case," I murmur, planting a light kiss on his cheek, "I'll see you in an hour or so."

"What!" he exclaims, tightening his hold on me. "You are choosing to abandon me, after all? Heartless woman."

"Hey, now. You're the one who told me to go home," I remind him in laughing tones. "See you back at my place?"

His expression softens. "Dio. I cannot fucking wait to go home to you."

I kiss him again, murmuring, "Then don't keep me waiting for too long. I miss you already, baby."

***

NICCO

After taking Aria home first, Nils Junior returns to the office to pick me up. He takes me to a very unimpressive-looking neighborhood in Fulham. I frown as I step out of the car. "Are you sure this is where she lives?"

Nils Junior coughs. "This is the exact address that Miss Senarath gave me earlier, sir."

A four-story apartment complex looms before me. The brick walls look tired and worn in the dark of night. This area does not feel unsafe, but a surge of alarm rises in me, anyway. In such an outdated building with zero security measures in place, it would not be difficult for Manning or the Beltráns to break into Aria's flat and wreak more havoc on our lives. It occurs to me that this arrangement of ours will not do. I must convince Aria to relocate us elsewhere for the time being.

Scowling, I grab my suitcases. Nils Junior offers to help me carry them up. I decline. Upon entry, however, I quickly realize that I was an idiot to refuse Nils Junior. Aria's building does not even possess the bare minimum in amenities, like a goddamn elevator, and her flat is located on the top floor. I have no choice but to carry my suitcases up four flights of stairs.

Fuck my life.

How the hell does anyone live without an elevator?

Yet, as I haul all of my shit up the steps, it is not the bulk of my luggage that bothers me. Something else weighs on my mind, and this little beauty is no bigger than a coin. It is custom-made. Three carats. The color of the diamond is more gray than white. To match her eyes. Round stone. The gold band is set with pavé diamonds. I am glad I contacted my jeweler even before Aria committed to this farce of ours. Otherwise, it would not be ready by now. The ring was delivered this morning, and the damn thing has been burning a hole in my pocket all day.

I am extremely nervous about showing it to Aria for some reason. I know this engagement of ours is only make-believe, but I want her to love it, nonetheless. I would have gotten her an even bigger, better diamond, but I already spent my signing bonus on this sparkly fucker. Plus the six-figure Lamborghini I sold to cover the rest of the cost.

Before my father cut me off, money flowed through my hands like water. Armani clothes and Ducati bikes were easy splurges. It never occurred to me how privileged I had been to be able to purchase whatever the fuck I wanted without batting an eye. A pinch of indignation grabs ahold of my pride.

Someday, I vow to myself, I will earn enough on my own to buy my princess the ring she deserves.

Ten carats.

Minimum.

When I arrive at Aria's doorstep, my pulse quickens. I am more than eager to see my princess again. Yet, a shadow of doubt holds me back. Hesitation lingers in the air. It is a paradox, I think, to want so badly to please a woman whom I cannot fully trust. Something must be wrong with the wiring in my brain. One small show of affection from her—as simple as removing a stupid tie from my person, for example—is enough to send me over the fucking moon.

As a Vitale, I should know better.

As a man, I should be more on guard.

Monte and I have been in correspondence all day, and what I have learned from these phone conversations makes me question if I can let down my guard around anyone ever again.

Even Aria.

Especially Aria.

Because she, above all else, has become my greatest weakness.