Cee was on edge.

Of course she was on edge. She was being held hostage by a murderer and may have just caused her only friend a lot of pain.

She couldn't eat. Anna was sweet, she tried to persuade her to eat, but she couldn't. What if Flo was hurt? Because of her, just like Luca?

It wasn't just Flo. She was no longer allowed into the medical wing, for any reason. Guards stood at the entrance, guns in hand, just waiting for an excuse.

Even the extra blanket she had brought for Stefano had been turned away. 'It could be dangerous' they'd said; Cee scoffed internally, glaring out of the window.

She had taken the blanket to her greenhouse, draped it over the crates to create a sort of nest. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but it was a safe haven. She read the books to herself, even The Catcher in the Rye, to pass the time now.

Her three boys had been moved, even Dean. She checked, every single time she passed through to her greenhouse, but the room sat empty, abandoned. It was coming up to her monthly anniversary of her arrival, and she was more alone than ever.

Cee sighed. She wasn't sleeping as well as she used to, when she knew Flo was around. Now she lay awake and worried. The greenhouse was the only place where she felt even vaguely safe, and she could only leave the room for a couple of hours each day.

She knew it was the day of whatever celebration Mr Romano had invited her to; everyone had been dashing around earlier, cleaning and fixing things - the kitchen had been working hard all day.

"May I have permission to enter, Miss Fiero?" Cee stared out the window silently, not bothering to answer.

Eventually the door opened.

"You have a party to get ready for." Cee whirled around, beaming at Luca; she'd expected it to be Anna, or some other employee.

"Luca!" Forgetting to restrain herself, Cee darted across the room and flung her arms around his neck. He caught her easily, setting her back on her feet and clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

He hadn't been around the house for a few days, due to business. He looked well, more tanned, more colour in his cheeks.

"I missed you, firefly," he teased, pushing her off him. "But you have to get ready!"

"Oh," Cee forced a laugh. "I'm not invited." Luca frowned, his confusion evident. "Mr Romano doesn't like me," she informed him, reaching to her neck instinctively.

His eyes followed her fingers, raising his hand to touch her bruised skin; wordlessly, his expression hardened.

"Well," he said finally, after a long pause, dragging his eyes away from her bruises. "I'd like you to be there, as my plus one, if not a guest."

Cee bit her lip, pretending to think it over.

"Why not," she decided eventually, winking at Luca.

Mr Romano would be furious, she could tell. Serves him bloody right, she thought.

---

Cee didn't recognise herself from the pale little ghost she'd been wandering around as for the past week. She looked like herself again. The makeup had transformed her; her hair fell in sleek, shiny waves to brush her shoulders once more, her eyes almost hazel against her blushed skin.

And the dress: startling, scarlet red - the Fiero colours. It swept around her feet, just kissing the floor gently, like how Cee imagined a dress a princess would wear.

"Oh, grazie," she whispered to the stylist, unable to take her eyes away from the mirror. "Thank you." She felt perfect. For the first time, she was proud to wear the Fiero colours, proud to represent her family.

Anna, Flo's replacement, stepped forward, placing her hand on Cee's elbow. "We are sorry," she said carefully, "that you are not happier." Cee had worked out, by now, that they had been threatened. Mr Romano hated her; he didn't trust her.

"If anyone hurts you," Cee murmured quietly to Anna, her words clumsy, "please come to me. I can tell Luca. You shouldn't be hurt because of me."

"May I have permission to escort you to the Ball, Miss Fiero?" Luca appeared at the doorway, drawing her attention and looking incredibly handsome in his tux, a small, purple pocket square to show his Romano blood. "You look stunning."

"I'd love to." Cee smiled, taking his arm, mouthing a last thank-you to the stylist.

Luca led her down to the first floor, but not to the ground floor, where Cee could glimpse the beginnings of the party - glamourous people wearing glamourous clothes, sipping champagne as they entered the Romano House.

"Where are you taking me?" Cee asked quietly, hearing the sounds of a crowd talking, laughing, fading slightly. He smiled absently, "Just a quick meeting with the boss. He wants to see us."

Cee forced a laugh, detracting her arm from Luca's.

"I'm sure he's very uninterested with me, and I with him," she said, calmly, a look of complete poise on her face despite her pounding heart. "Would it be alright if I met you downstairs?"

Luca nodded, his eyes drifting unconsciously to her neck and understanding immediately. "Of course, but don't come crying to me when you realise you have a train of irritating, arrogant men asking you to dance," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. She laughed again, her chest feeling slightly tight.

"I'll see you soon." She gave his shoulder a squeeze, making her escape.

As soon as she rounded the corner, she breathed a sigh of relief. Romano wouldn't have reacted well in private; she knew that in public, in front of esteemed guests, she was safer. Crash first, deal with the explosion later, she told herself.

Cee found her way to the grand staircase, slowly. The hum of low conversation and a buzz of electricity filled the air. Pretend you're a princess, she told herself, you have the right to be here.

She straightened her spine, gathered her skirt slightly in each hand and swept to the top of the staircase, descending slowly. For a second, she forgot her facade.

The entrance had been transformed. The light was low, dim, with a sultry atmosphere; glitter seemed to drift through the air. Guests milled around, the majority in either black tuxes (with pocket squares to show their respective family associations) or dark dresses.

Purple, for the Romano family. Red, for the Fieros.

Cee saw many navy blue dresses, with a few emerald greens dotted throughout the crowd, but she realised, too late, that she stood out.

Her scarlet dress made her a target.

"Tell me," a voice came from behind her, circling to her ear, "what does a Romano have to do to capture a Fiero?" Cee kept her head high, refusing to flinch.

"I am sure," she spoke evenly, "that my hosts would not appreciate your tone." He inclined his head, stepping around her to join her, descending the staircase.

"My apologies." His voice was slick, oily. She didn't trust him. "Domenico Caito, at your service." Cee held out a hand, unwillingly. He pressed a slow kiss to her knuckle, making her skin crawl as he lingered a second too long. "Camilla Fiero."

"Camilla," he drawled, enjoying each syllable as they finally reached the bottom of the staircase. "May I get you a drink?" Cee nodded. She trusted the bartenders on duty to have strict instructions. No one would dare tamper with drinks in the Romano House.

Domenico slid a hand around her waist, escorting her to a table of drinks. She stepped out of reach immediately, masking her distaste with a look of haughty indifference. He ran a finger along his pocket square, drawing attention to the emerald fabric. He picked up two glasses of champagne.

"To a wonderful evening," Domenico suggested, raising his glass.

"To a wonderful evening," she repeated. She'd need something stronger if this snake stayed around. She was attracting stares; jealousy from one particular blonde, but mostly curiosity, some hate-filled looks.

"May I ask, then?" Domenico drew her attention back to him.

"Ask away," she replied, sipping at her drink.

"How is it you have come to be here?" Cee considered him for a second.

"How is it that I come to be under the protection of the Romanos?" she clarified, pointedly. "It is not, perhaps, my story to tell."

"Mysterious," Domenico winked. "I like it." There was something sleazy, almost nasty, about him. Cee set down her champagne.

"I believe I see my date," she bluffed, drawing away. "If you'll excuse me."

"Oh, but Camilla," he reached for her arm, running a finger across her neckline, "the night is young." Cee shivered, leaning away.

"Perhaps later," she said, firmly removing his hand from her. He caught her wrist, holding it tightly. She jerked to a halt, glaring at him. "Later, then," he promised, a glint in his eye.

"Ah, Cee." Luca had caught up. "Apologies. The meeting was far shorter than I had expected." Cee turned, but Caito had vanished.

"Not a problem," she smiled. "I've realised I don't quite know anyone here." Luca chuckled.

"It's my job to introduce you. Niccolò wants you to meet a few...family friends of ours." Her heart sank, just a little. "But first, he asked me to give you this." Luca drew a chain out of his pocket: an elegant necklace: simple yet statement. A single amethyst, set in gold, dangled at the end.

"It is beautiful," she gritted her teeth, eyeing it like a snake.

"Allow me." Reluctantly, she lifted her hair, allowing Luca to clasp it around her neck. It settled just below the hollow of her neck, resting peacefully against her chest.

"Purple suits you," he joked. It was a message from Romano. A threat. She didn't know how, but it was.

---

Cee found herself outside, several hours later. The night air was cool, comforting, on her hot skin. She'd danced with Luca, mostly, with the occasional dance with someone who dared to approach the Fiero. She'd made small talk awkwardly and drank champagne - like every party her father had ever had.

She was still alone, admittedly, she didn't quite feel at home yet. But she felt comfortable in her skin. Her red colours attracted too much attention. Including that of the Romano Don, unfortunately.

She could feel his eyes burning into her, see how the men he spoke to then turned their heads to look at her, hear the whispers that followed her.

She sighed.

"You'll be out of here soon, Cee," she told herself, out loud, trying to shake away the nervous tension.

"I thought your name was Camilla." She whirled round, her dress twirling with her movement.

"You startled me," Cee breathed, staring at the young man who was closing the glass door behind her: Caito. "I prefer Cee."

"How sweet." She smiled, but it didn't meet her eyes, turning back to the view of the gardens. "I noticed you with Luca," Domenico mentioned, heading to the balcony's stone wall. "The nicer of the two Romanos."

Cee almost laughed. "You could say that again." She frowned at herself; she didn't trust this man.

"Oh?" he pushed, leaning back and tilting her head to watch the stars.

"Luca is a good dancer, too," Cee attempted, moving away from the topic of Luca's cousin. "A lovely boy."

"He is," Domenico agreed, "I'm surprised he spent so much time with you." Cee didn't let the jibe get to her. "I'd have loved to have been in his shoes." Cee just smiled.

"Luca and I aren't doing anything together," she told him uncomfortably, "I'll only be here for a few more weeks, hopefully."

"A few more weeks?" he probed, edging his way to block Cee's direct path to the Hall.

"Indeed," Cee attempted a final smile. "I'm going to catch up with Luca, you should come." Her suggestion wasn't genuine, and he knew.

"Let's stay out here a moment longer," he told her, "I just want to discuss something." Cee laughed, off-key. Something about this man was wrong; every word he spoke sounded like a veiled threat, and he was almost certainly interested in the repulsive Fiero business. Cee didn't support the sexual exploitation of vulnerable women - a fact which hadn't made her popular with her family - but what could she do?

"I'm not interested in my father's business, so if you'll excuse me- " she tried to deflect, making to move past the Caito.

"Please don't make this difficult." Cee felt the cold metal of a blade press against her side, hidden from the view of the window.

"I won't," Cee replied, her face pale. "What would you like me to do?" She stared at their reflection in the beautiful windows, the only thin barrier between her and safety, but she'd never felt more isolated; she watched as Domenico leant down to whisper in her ear.

"I need you to go into Mr Romano's office with me," he told her. "They already believe you're a spy, it won't do any harm."

"Oh, really?" Cee said conversationally, deliberately casual. "What are your plans for the security cameras?" Domenico shook his head.

"No one will think to check them, due to the amount of physical security around his office." Cee noticed how her hand shook, how his grip on the blade handle was too tight.

"So how am I supposed to get you in?"

"You live here, you're free to go where you please." Cee laughed loudly. It definitely wasn't funny, but she acted like the champagne had got to her head.

"Domenico," Cee whispered, as seductively as she could manage, trailing her hand down his arm, "Mr Romano doesn't like me." He pulled her hand away from him impatiently, realising her intention was to grab the blade.

"He's given you his protection with that necklace- " Cee pretended to fall, knocking him down with her, grabbing for the knife.

"Stupid bitch," Domenico back-handed her, elbowing Cee in the ribs sharply, winding her effortlessly, snatching the knife off the floor quickly. "You're more use to me dead." Cee watched as he raised the knife, intent on stabbing Cee, and went still.

Maybe this was it. Maybe she'd die from blood loss, or maybe Domenico would puncture a lung or something. Cee had already mourned for her previous life. Now she closed her eyes, going limp.

To her surprise, his weight was lifted off her.

"Camilla!" Luca's voice reached her through her slightly dazed state. Domenico was straightening his suit, the knife disappearing into the inner lining of his jacket; he stared at her, pinning her to the floor with a single look.

"Oh." Cee couldn't say much else, in all honesty.

"Are you alright?" Luca sounded worried. "What happened?" She blinked, looking between the two men; Domenico smiled warningly.

"Too much champagne," he suggested, his tone cheerful. "Knocked us both over."

"Are you hurt anywhere? Can you stand?" Luca didn't challenge Domenico, accepting it immediately. "I didn't realise you'd had so much to drink."

"I'm fine." Cee stood up. She was so numb. All of this was overwhelming. She just wanted to give in.

She was visibly shaken, trying to smooth down her dress and hair, as if it could remove her memory of being attacked.

"Let's just pretend this didn't happen," Domenico laughed, brushing it off, holding out a hand to steady her - a warning. "No harm done, right, Cee?"

"Right," she stammered, clutching to Luca's arm as she watched the man move inside. He weaved in and out of guests, disappearing like a snake into the undergrowth.

Luca's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a word to Domenico. "Everything okay?" he murmured, feeling her shoulders heave with her rapid breathing.

"Yeah," she lied, "everything's fine."

Cee finally noticed. For all the dress that shone like gemstones, for all the expensive champagne, for every individual, suffocating perfume in the room, there was filthy money behind it. From behind curtains, behind pillars, behind bars, she began to notice the silent bodyguards, the guns that were always close by.

"You know," Luca hesitated, "if he was going to try anything without your consent, Niccolò wouldn't stand for it."

"I'm fine," she insisted, still watching as Domenico struck up casual conversation with another gentleman, whose eyes turned to hers immediately. "I just fell."

As they re-entered the house, Anna popped up, seemingly out of nowhere, this time as a waitress.

"Mr Romano wants you," she murmured to Cee, only just louder than the music, passing a champagne glass to Luca carefully.

"I'll take her," Luca replied cheerfully, his dark curls slightly wild. "Thanks." Cee looked towards the Romano Don, surrounded by a group of men, her hands shaking slightly as Luca guided her through the crowds until she was standing by the boss's side.

"Camilla," Mr Romano murmured, "these are some of my closest business associates." She tried not to jump as his hand drifted to the small of her back, sending a spark down her spine.

She nodded politely at them, uncomfortable with the level of attention she was receiving; she knew he was watching her reaction.

She couldn't recognise any of the men, each of them blurring into one threatening mass.

"Miss Fiero," Mr Romano spoke again, "is with me."

Cee looked up. He was holding out his hand, waiting. She looked him, dead in the eye, without fear for the first time. He was attractive. He was a Romano, they were all attractive. His messy curls did nothing to ease the harshness of his face; the cold planes of his cheekbones cut sharply into his tanned skin, his jaw strong. His eyes were cold.

This was just a display of power, now. She knew it.

She took his hand, allowing him to brush his lips against the back of her hand in a mocking gesture, signalling to each of his business associates that he could do whatever he wanted to her. Cee kept her eyes locked on his, hoping he could see the revulsion and disgust.