Nicco

Ch. 18: To See Her Smile

NICCO

Following the unsettling conversation with Monte, much remains on my mind. I jump in the shower to clear my thoughts before heading out. For once, I am eager to return to the office. Shocking, I know.

Around 8 am, Nils Junior picks me up in the Bentley.

"Hurry," I mutter as I climb into the backseat, "I do not want to be late."

Nils Junior looks taken aback by my insistent tone. It is at odds with my aversion for anything and everything related to Jackson & James. He recovers quickly, though, and wipes all emotion from his face. My driver offers a mannerly reply, "Understood."

He steps on the gas. The car lurches forward, and my pulse picks up speed as well. I tell myself this sense of urgency has little to do with the desire to see Aria again and more to do with the monumental task that lies ahead of me. There is a thorn in mia famiglia's side that requires extraction.

A fucking thorn named Beltrán.

How dare these fuckers encroach on our territory?

My head grows hot. An unfamiliar burst of anger simmers through me, burning deep and dark. Like hellfire. I am surprised by the intensity of my outrage. But I am also man enough to admit that my wrath is partly fueled by fear. Fear of the unknown.

What do I know about taking on the cartel?

All I know is—I cannot fail my father. A harsh realization haunts this thought: Never have I been shoved into such a difficult position before. In the past, I have always had the choice to exist in ease and comfort. Born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I never had to fight for anything.

Perhaps, this ease and comfort has done me a disservice. Now, it appears, I have no choice. The time has come to earn the privileges tied to my Vitale namesake. A prince is nothing without his domain, after all, and our kingdom is clearly under threat. My jaw tightens. I have not felt anything quite like it: This overwhelming need to protect what is mine.

Mia famiglia.

Mia Aria.

Fists clench at my sides as I continue to stew in the backseat. An unwelcome feeling seizes my heart at the thought of my assistant. Worry pumps alongside every unruly thud of the organ. If I am being perfectly honest, the manner in which Aria snuck away still bothers me. I have never enjoyed sharing personal space with the women I fuck. But, this morning, after Aria left, my apartment felt far too big and empty.

Even now, I wish she had stayed with me.

Even now, when I should simply let it be and walk away from such a troublesome arrangement, I still want to set things right between us.

I doubt Aria will cooperate, though. Knowing her, she will pretend like nothing is wrong and pull away even more.

Unhappily, I glance out the window of my Bentley. Nils Junior is driving like a maniac, weaving in and out of the jammed lanes at every opportunity, but there is only so much he can do. Traffic is shit today. Much like my mood. We crawl forward at a snail's pace through London's Square Mile. At this point, the lofty skyscrapers lining either side of the street have been ingrained in my eyeballs. I have been staring at the same damn buildings for the past ten minutes.

With a sigh, I turn my attention back to answering emails and prepping for the day's meetings. I hardly recognize myself. I cannot believe that I am actually working outside of working hours. Again, my thoughts drift toward Aria. Like some sort of infectious disease, her insane work ethic keeps rubbing off on me.

In the middle of composing an email to the head of the accounting department, a new message pops up in my inbox. I click away from my draft to check the message. It is from the credit card company. My expression turns grim. Damn it. Not again. First, it was my Black Card.