Nicco - Season 2

6. You Will Fail

ARIA

The gentleness of Nicco's tone creates a truly mind-fucking rift between the venom in his words. My worst fear has become a reality. Fuck me but the goddamn ring glimmers on my finger as though he still wants me. I feel frozen, trapped in a nightmare of my own making. He may no longer care for me. Yet, he's still the one my heart beats for, yearns for—loves. I notice right away that he's injured. There are bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

Ignoring the fury in Nicco's eyes, I reach for his hand. "What happened here?"

Withdrawing from me, he taunts, "I burned down a fucking castle for you, principessa."

I can't tell if he's joking. Or not. "Are you serious?"

He doesn't utter a fucking word. I don't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed by his silence. Sharp green eyes cut me like daggers, and air is wrenched from my lungs. For a moment, I can't seem to breathe. My gaze grows wide with despair then—resignation. It's no longer a matter of if Nicco knows what I've done. Now, the only question that begs to be answered is—how much does he know?

The room begins to tilt. As Nicco's contempt slowly sinks in, something shatters in me as though I'm made of glass. Nicco claims that I've torn out his heart. In a way, we're even now. He's cut out mine as well.

It feels like there's a fucking hole in my chest.

Struggling to keep my game face on, I swallow the pain. I won't insult Nicco by denying my guilt. All I can do is hope that Manning will fall for the trap I've set sooner rather than later, so I'll have a chance to mend the cracks I've splintered in our hearts. But, until then, I must continue playing the role of the devil.

Feeling a bit faint, I ask, "How long have you known?"

Eyes full of contempt, Nicco chuckles. "Does it matter?"

"Guess not."

The blinding sparkle from the massive gray diamond on my hand continues to mock me. There's no doubt in my mind: Our engagement is off.

While twisting the cold metal around my finger, I toss a discreet glance in Manning's direction before assuring Nicco, "I'll give this back later when there are no more eyes on us."

"Why would you give it back?" Nicco taunts as though he gives absolutely zero fucks about me and the ring.

"It's too expensive. I can't possibly—"

"I do not care what you do with the damn rock. Throw it away. Or sell it."

"What if I want to keep it?"

"Then, I hope you choke on regret every time you look at it."

Ouch.

A sharp ache stings my eyes. I know I deserve his hatred, so I blink away the tears. I made my choice knowing the consequences, and, now, I must see it through. I can't afford to stray from my path. Appa needs me to keep going. Nicco does, too, even if he doesn't realize it yet. There's only one reason Jaime hasn't lashed out at Nicco: The fucker doesn't see Nicco as a big enough threat.

I've been doing my due diligence, gaslighting Jaime with lie after lie from the moment he crawled out of prison and back into my life. It's times like these that make me oddly grateful that Jaime is such a brain-damaged narcissist. The wires in his head are frayed enough to believe my 100% delulu narrative when I claim that I've been targeting Nicco for him and only him.

If Jaime ever peered inside my heart and saw the depth of emotion that I've been hiding away, he wouldn't hesitate to put Nicco six feet under.

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