Nicco

Ch. 5: Dicky, Chaotic Energy

NICCO

I am not ashamed to say that I spend the next month doing everything in my power to crush Aria's spirit. Pride compels me to show her who's the boss. Part of me wants to see her suffer. Maybe I can even make her quit on her own. Then, my father cannot fault me for firing my assistant.

It does not take long, however, for me to realize that my pretty assistant is made of steel. Her strength is unlike anything I have ever known. She does not nag or bully to get her point across. Not like my parents. Instead, she schemes in silence. Thwarting my every attack while making me feel as though I have won. I admit, I have grown somewhat captivated by her tactics. No matter how unreasonably I behave, she remains soft, pliant, yet, irrefutable.

She is an enigma who never fails to deliver exactly what I need. And then some. And always with a fucking smile plastered on her face.

Before I even realized it, I started getting caught up in the sheer momentum of her competence. Against my nature, I found myself caring about the day-to-day headaches of my job. The more I interacted with Aria, the more I learned about how the consequences of my actions as the head of this department can really fuck shit up.

Needless to say, my plan to take her down a notch has been severely backfiring.

Each day, as my pretty assistant gazes up at me with those soft gray eyes and that teasing, tilty smile of hers, a funny feeling stumbles across my heart.

Dio.

I never knew that gray eyes could be so lovely.

There is something about Aria Senarath that makes my unmotivated ass want to do more.

When we first met, her brazenness rubbed me the wrong way. I felt as though I had fucked up. As though I was not deserving of my position at Jackson & James. As though I was being blamed for something that was out of my control.

No one has ever made me feel so shitty about myself.

Well, no. Scratch that. There have always been haters and green-eyed monsters in my vicinity. Throughout my life, I have been betrayed, backstabbed, and used for all the wrong reasons. The right ones, too. Simply because I was born a Vitale. Simply because I have been afforded privileges that might not be accessible to others. Simply because I am a young, rich, good-looking son of a bitch. But I never let the noisiness of it all throw me off balance.

Until recently.

Somehow, the truth in Aria's insults managed to get under my skin.

Over the past month, the storm inside me has since run its course. At last, I am calm again. An introspective mood has replaced my anger. Such sullenness feels strange. It is an utterly foreign feeling. But it compels me to show up at the office around the crack of dawn just so I can show her that she is wrong about me. Just so I can "pull my weight" and never "drop the ball again."

I know. This behavior is unlike me. I can only assume that the funny feeling lingering in my chest is... guilt.

By now, I know that Aria is the kind of person who takes her job seriously. It seems unlikely for an employee who appeared to be as diligent as Aria to lose her shit over me—her superior and her boss—for no reason. This glaring inconsistency has been weighing on my mind for a while.

Last week, I started to do more digging around the office. Thankfully, it was not difficult to extract answers from my staff. Tongues wagged. Readily. Tea was spilled left and right. According to Samantha Beckham, one of the financial analysts on my team, my assistant had nearly lost her job covering for my ass. Aria was also working as a financial analyst before she was forced her to take on the role of my assistant. Once I learned about these unfortunate events, I instantly felt like shit.