NICCO

I return to Aria's apartment complex close to 10 pm.

As I climb up the stairwell, the building is dark and quiet, but adrenaline still hums within me. I did not know it was possible to feel so wound up and drained at the same time. Everything I have gleaned from Bertie tonight was advantageous to my cause. Knowledge wields power. Yet, I feel burdened by this power.

Is Aria aware of her father's ties to Manning?

I hope not. I do not even want to entertain the thought that she might be knowingly keeping such a big secret from me. For the sake of self-preservation, my mind fixates on what is to come. Carl's men will be sending the messages to Manning's network in two short hours.

Then, hell will break loose.

When I step through the front door, I see Aria curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her lovely face lights up the moment our eyes lock. The sight of her instantly erases the ugliness from my night. All of a sudden, there is nothing I want more than to bury myself in her body. I want to forget about the vile, despicable skeletons I wrung from Bertie for just a moment.

A smile softens her features. "You're back."

Wearily, I smile as well. "I am back."

"How was your dinner with... Bertie?"

I tell her the truth, "Barely tolerable."

"I was waiting for you," she whispers.

Without another word, I go to her. As always, we are drawn to each other like twin flames. Aria's hands twine behind my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. I do not resist at all. My hands slide under her shirt, seeking the soft curves of her body. The warmth of her bare skin.

"Wait," she mutters, pressing her palm against my chest to give a sight push.

"What is wrong?" I demand.

Aria grimaces. "There's something I want to tell you..."

"Is it about work?"

"Yes."

"Not now," I growl, "not when I have you in my arms like this."

"But it's about the Gra—"

Groaning into the slope of Aria's neck, I breathe in her scent. "Baby, I had such a long day. I just want to be with you. Can it wait until tomorrow morning?"

She grumbles, "I promise this will only take a min—"

Muffling Aria's protests with more kisses, I pick up my girl and carry her back to the bedroom.

"Tomorrow," I insist, dropping her onto the edge of the mattress.

She sighs when my head dips between her thighs, "I suppose this shit can wait...until...tomorrow morning..."

I pull down her panties and kiss her cunt. With my mouth and tongue, I trace every crease and every fold, readying my girl for my cock. Soon, she is wet and wanting. I kiss my way up her body and position myself at her entrance before pushing in with a gratified groan. When I start fucking her, Aria's eyelids squeeze shut as a moan slips out.

"Eyes on me, principessa," I command roughly. With fluttering lashes, Aria opens her eyes, panting. My gaze burns into hers. "I love watching you, every breath, every moan, knowing that is my cock inside your cunt. Fucking you over the edge."

Aria sighs, her hips start rolling and snapping, matching me stroke for stroke, thrust for thrust, "God, Nicco. The feel of you. It's always too much—"

"Too much?" I grunt, shoving myself to the hilt again and again.

She moans, "And never enough. I love it. Crave it. Need it."

Through the dark quiet of the night, our bodies grow slick with sweat as we continue to fuck and come until exhaustion takes hold of us at last. I fall asleep with Aria in my arms.

Around midnight, I awaken to the low buzzing hum of my phone. I roll over to check the screen. It is a text from Carl.
Carl: It's done.

I set down my phone and glance over to Aria. Her eyes are closed. Her breathing remains slow and even. She looks so fucking peaceful. My heart fills with a sense of purpose. Resolve turns to steel. This is only the beginning of the hell I shall rain down on Manning and the Beltráns. I will do whatever it takes to protect this peace. Aria is the reason I am going to war.

My lips ghost her bare shoulder as I whisper into the darkness, "Ti amo, principessa."

***

ARIA

When I step out of the shower the next morning, the steam has fogged up the mirrors. Once it clears, my wet, naked reflection catches me by surprise. I blush like a schoolgirl. Dozens of reddish-purple love bites, almost as dark as bruises, adorn my body. They're everywhere that Nicco nipped me, sucked me, and kissed me. My neck and collarbone are a mess. He's marked me all over my tits as well. They decorate my inner thighs in a trail leading up to my pussy.

I'll need to cover up the visible ones with some foundation. I should be annoyed, but, instead, I feel... claimed. These sexy, filthy reminders of what happened last night make me feel as though I'm his completely.

After getting dressed, I head out of the bathroom. I can hear Nicco shuffling around the kitchen. The smell of espresso fills the air. A smile tugs at my mouth. Even though Nicco and I are the only two souls in the world who know about it right now, there's a sense of realness to our engagement now. Getting fucked to sleep last night. Waking up to him in the morning. I could get used to this shit. This must be what domestic bliss is supposed to feel like. Surely, a life like this can't only exist in fairytales.

Right?
My chest swells with hope. After meeting with Manning last night, I'm ready to share my plan with Nicco on how we can undermine the Gravinski account, and maybe, just maybe, if I'm feeling brave, I'll even tell him a little more about my past.

Right as I'm about to seek out Nicco, a soft chime echoes from my purse. I recognize the sound. It's not coming from my phone but the one that Nelson delivered to me.

Fuck.

What does he want now?

I hurry over to check the screen.

Unknown Sender: Was it Vitale? Did he do it?

Genuine confusion eats at me as I text back.

Me: What are you talking about?

Unknown Sender: You two-faced bitch. You knew what he was planning all along, didn't you?

My brow furrows with dismay.

Me: I swear I don't know what the hell's going on right now. What happened?

Unknown Sender: Manning's men are being blackmailed. I believe Vitale is behind it.

Oh, fuck.

Has Nicco been keeping shit from me, too?

Me: Are you sure it was him?

What has he been doing?

Unknown Sender: It is what my gut tells me.

I relax a little. He doesn't have any proof yet. Good. There's a chance I can still salvage this mess.

Me: Well, let's not jump to conclusions. Give me a day to find out if Vitale is really the one behind the blackmail.

Unknown Sender: Fine. You have twenty-four hours to prove me wrong. Otherwise, I release the tape.

***

NICCO

It is late Saturday morning, and I am sitting at a café with Aria near Vauxhall Park.

Crowds stroll by our table. I see families with strollers. Couples holding hands.

Lush green curtains of ivy crawl up aging brick walls. A terrace garden of lavender, blue hydrangeas, and pink peonies line the front of the building.

Fragrant florals and the scent of freshly ground coffee waft through the breeze. The air smells of midsummer and comfort and ease.

I glance at my girl. Despite our idyllic surroundings, she does not look comfortable or at ease. There is a furrowed, faraway look on Aria's face. Her thoughts, as of late, are being pulled in one too many directions. I cough to get her attention. "Vivi just texted me."

Slightly startled, Aria blinks. "What?"

"She is on her way."

"Oh, lovely," she mumbles in distracted tones, "I can't wait to meet her."

Vivi's plane landed last night, and she will be joining us at the café shortly. I am both anxious and excited about having Aria meet my sister. For once, the skies overhead are neither gloomy nor gray. A rarity for London. It is a good omen, I hope.

"Your sister chose the perfect time to visit," Aria remarks, noticing the clear blue skies as well. "It's a beautiful day."

"SÌ," I agree, never taking my eyes off of her, "molto bella."

She blushes when our gazes touch.

I reach for Aria's hand under the table, tucking it into mine, as we continue to make small talk. Mindlessly, my thumb traces the metal band around her finger. The gray diamond sparkles beneath the sunlight. Today is the first time Aria has worn her ring in public. Now, the world finally knows that she is mine. I should be happier than I feel, but, after the night I met with Bertie, Aria has been acting unlike herself. It is troubling, to say the least.

My girl has lost her laser-like focus, even at work. There have been more than one or two occasions when I found her chatting up colleagues, instead of working, about stocks and real estate. She even misplaced her laptop yesterday, and it has been missing ever since. We are unsure whether it was lost or stolen. Either way, tech support had to send her a new one.

It worries me.

Aria's behavior has been like this all week, and I do not know what to make of it.

***

At 8 am, Aria enters my office with a cappuccino in hand and asks, "Did you sign the documents yet?"

I glance up from my laptop. "The ones for Manning?"

"Yes."

"Not yet," I reply, "I need to review them in detail first."

"I actually looked over the contracts for you. I marked up all the areas that seem problematic. It might save you a couple hours of reading pages upon pages of legalese if you use my notes."

"Grazie," I murmur, "I appreciate you taking the time to do that for me."

"It's not a prob—"

Aria's eyes go wide with horror as she suddenly loses her balance, trips, and spills the entire cup of caffeine all over my laptop. The screen fizzles out and dies within seconds. I groan, "Merda! There goes my entire morning of work."

Aria begins to wail apologetically, "I'm so sorry, Nicco!"

"It is alright," I grumble. "At least, this is a fixable problem."

"I promise I'll get you a replacement as soon as possible."

"Did you ever find your laptop?"

She gives a pause. "Not yet."

***

Days ago, when Aria gifted me with the promise of I'm yours, Nicco, only yours, I held onto those words, believing that she was finally ready to give her heart—to me.

My hopes have since been dashed. Something drastic changed in the past few days. Her gray eyes no longer carry the same shine. I feel as though Aria might have learned something that I should know about, but, as always, she will not tell me.

As though sensing that she is being scrutinized, a pinch appears between Aria's brow.

"Everything good with you?" I ask.

My concern seems to flip a switch in Aria. Within the same second, the lines on her forehead smooth out. She flashes me a bright smile. It appears forced. "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

A touch of unease rattles me. In the eyes of passersby, I probably look like I am enjoying a leisurely brunch with my beautiful fiancée. Yet, beneath the surface, our piece of paradise has not been peaceful at all. Aria owns my heart, I thought I might come to claim hers as well, but, in light of everything that is going on, the bond between us has never felt more fragile.

Only a few short days have passed since Manning's men received their damning messages. It is a well-documented list of names, locations, times, dates, and misdeeds.

The devil on their shoulder must be asking: Shouldn't you keep your mouth shut in fear of the Beltráns' wrath?

Only to be met with another devil whispering in their other ear: But what if one of your own cracks under pressure and decides to throw you to the wolves?

Carl has the incoming and outgoing communications on their phones and laptops under constant surveillance, so I do not need to imagine their mounting panic or their mad dash to save their own asses before it is too late.

I can see them all unraveling before me in real time.

One of Manning's accountants and two of his lawyers have already succumbed to their panic. They reached out to the police, offering to become informants in exchange for protection and lighter sentences. Manning's own driver is threatening to tell his wife about his affairs.

The accountant has since gone missing.

Bertie Gallagher is missing, too.

Manning and the Beltráns are not forgiving bastards. Rats like Bertie will probably be squeezed for intel and shot on sight once he outlives his usefulness. But Bertie does not even have intel for them to squeeze. He did not see my face that night. Nor did he catch my name. Even if they glean something of trivial use from Bertie, it is too late. The damage is done. Manning's men have fallen into my trap, and, already, they are beginning to tear each other apart. I will not lie. After the crimes they have committed against mia famiglia and Aria, it is satisfying to watch these sons of bitches lose their fucking minds over the payback I have so painstakingly devised and delivered.

I steal another look in my girl's direction, wondering if she would be disgusted by this ruthlessness awakening inside me. It is probably better if she remains ignorant of my corrupted soul. Aria looks troubled enough already. In fact, a heavy frown is now weighing on her face. Alarmed, my full attention snaps back to Aria.

What could be ailing her?

Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, I take a shot in the dark, "Are you worried about going public with our...engagement?"

"No, of course not."

Is she still worried about the tape, then?

If Manning and the Beltráns manage to trace my involvement behind the anonymous messages, I am positive that they will release the tape in retaliation.

"If there is something bothering you, talk to me. Per favore. I cannot bear seeing you in distress."

Aria chuckles nervously. "What makes you think that I'm...distressed?"

"I—"

Right as I open my mouth to respond, a flash of dark hair appears in my line of vision. An all too familiar female voice drawls, "Ciao, fratello."

My head snaps toward the intruder. She grins at me. "Did you miss me?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On how much of a pain in the ass you plan to be today."

Eyes gleaming conspiratorially, she pretends to consider my asshole taunt in all seriousness, "On a scale of one to ten? Probably a twelve-point-five."

Sarcasm drips from my voice when I sigh, "Always a pleasure to see you, Vivi."