Nicco

Ch. 28: Paradox

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?"