She didn't remember walking back to her room, but when she woke up, she was lying in the Pink Room, her blanket still wrapped around her shoulders.

Tap tap. "May I have permission to enter, Miss?" Cee blinked, struck with deja vu.

"Sure," she called, sitting up slowly. Flo walked into the room, tray in hand, as if nothing had happened. "Flo!" Cee jumped out of bed, hugging the girl tightly. "Oh my god, Flo!"

"Miss Cee," Flo replied, laughing. "I'm okay, Miss, I swear."

"Where were you? Are you hurt?" Cee pulled away, inspecting her at arms' length. "Did Nic- Did Mr Romano hurt you?" Flo shrugged, placing the tray down on the bed. As she moved, her sleeves slid up her arms, revealing yellowing bruises. "Oh, Flo- "

"Miss," Flo said firmly, "Mr Romano did not intend to hurt me." Cee pulled back Flo's sleeve gently, despite her protests. "I tried to slap him, Miss. His men hurt me." Cee noticed the shadow along Flo's jaw.

"Flo- "

"No, Miss," Flo smiled, "I deserved that. No one should disrespect Mr Romano. He has been nothing but kind to me before."

"Tell me what happened," Cee pleaded, making Flo sit with her on the bed. Flo sighed, her fondness of Cee overcoming her desire to work.

"Mr Romano believed you were a spy," she started, noting Cee's eye-roll. "He confronted me about allowing you into the medical wing, in case you were there to collect information on the explosion."

"But I wasn't- " Cee tried, angrily, but Flo hushed her.

"And that was when I tried to hurt him, Miss, to defend you." Cee's eyes widened fractionally. "I understood I put the family at risk, but you mean no harm, Miss, I know you don't."

"Flo," Cee whispered, her voice hushed.

"They locked me away for a few days, just to teach me a lesson. Mr Romano came to see me this morning."

"This morning?" Cee checked the clock on her pink wall. It was one in the afternoon.

"To let me go, Miss. He said he valued my loyalty to you."

"He should have apologised, Flo," Cee snapped, her expression distraught, "he shouldn't have locked you up like that." Flo smiled, shaking her head.

"I forget you're still new here, Miss. Mr Romano does not apologise, Miss. Ever." Cee went quiet, running over last night's events in her mind.

---

Cee wandered up the stairs, trusting her feet to lead her to Niccolò's office. She had to thank him, for releasing Flo.

"Niccolò?" she called softly, knocking twice on the door. "Are you there?"

"Come in." Cee opened the door, her heart picking up speed slightly.

"Niccolò, I- " she stopped suddenly. "Luca?" Luca spun around in his cousin's chair, a grin on his face, his fingers laced together like some movie villain.

"Since when have you been on a first name basis with my cousin?" Cee blushed, hiding her face behind her hair.

"Where is he?" she asked curiously, her heart calming down again. "Does he know you're in his chair?" Luca leaped up with a guilty smile on his face.

"Business," he said, raising an eyebrow, "but that doesn't answer my question."

"I won't tell him you were borrowing his office if you stop asking about Niccolò," Cee bargained, grinning as Luca swore jokingly.

"You've got me there," he smirked, "but I'll find out the truth eventually."

---

The Romano House stood silent; an impenetrable fortress of stone and bullet-proof glass.

Patrols ran twenty four/seven, keeping the grounds on lockdown at all times. No one came in or out.

A pale face stared longingly out of the window. For three days she'd been caged inside, not even allowed out to her greenhouse.

"Miss Fiero?" Flo entered the Pink Room, noticing that the door had been left ajar. "Miss?"

Cee turned, smiling at her friend. The bruises had faded from her arms, she had lost the hollow look in her eyes; three days of freedom could change someone.

"Hey, Flo." Flo dipped her head, unable to shake the automatic respectful gesture she had been taught to acknowledge guests with.

"Dinner, Miss, with Mr Romano." Cee slipped off of the window seat, following after Flo towards the dining room.

This was her routine. Dinner with Luca in the evenings, after a day of reading to Dean.

Cee wandered into the dining room, her heart pounding like it always did, just in case Flo had meant Niccolò rather than Luca, just in case he was back - he wasn't.

With each day, Luca grew more tense. No one had expected this particular delivery to take so long, or go wrong, but no one dared mention that. The possibility that the operation had gone wrong...

Cee shook her head, skipping to her usual seat. "Good evening," she chirped, smiling at Luca. He gave her a forced grin, returning his gaze back to the stack of papers that he was examining page by page with a sigh.

"I don't know how he does it," Luca mumbled after a while, throwing his papers down in disgust. Cee bit her lip, pausing in-between bites of her pasta.

"When will he be back?" she asked quietly, curious. Luca shrugged, taking a sip of whiskey.

"Soon, hopefully," he muttered, "but it was a big job. Maybe..." Luca cut himself off, tearing apart a piece of bread in his hands. "He'll be fine."

Cee couldn't tell if he was trying to reassure her or himself.

---

"...'and they were both ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing her into Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them.'" Cee closed the book, smiling at Dean's sleeping face. "That's the end of Pride and Prejudice," she informed him, sliding the book onto his bedside table and touching her fingertips to the back of his hand.

"I really hope you enjoyed it," she smiled, "it's one of my favourites." She took a second to study Dean's sleeping face.

He had the same honey-coloured hair as his sister, the same scattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He slept peacefully, still.

"Squeeze back if you can hear me," she whispered, holding his hand for just a second. Nothing happened, but Cee felt better, all the same.

"How you holding up, Anton?" Anton scoffed, folding his arms against his chest.

"Much better now that your shitty book has finished," he snapped, but Cee knew it was an act now. Secretly, she hoped he was fond of her.

"It's a classic," she defended herself, "one of the greats." Anton muttered expletives under his breath, but she smiled, used to his antics.

"Would you like to try walking again?" she asked kindly, undeterred by his tone of voice. He shook his head, sinking into the pillows.

He had tried walking, once, on his badly burned leg. It hadn't gone well.

"No worries then," she smiled, squeezing his hand gently.

"See you tomorrow," she called, waving to Anton as she headed out for the afternoon. She always made a point of reserving her mornings for her boys, especially Dean; Flo was her closest friend in this place, even including Luca.

Cee usually visited the other patients in the afternoon, but today was special. Room 2 had been turned into a maternity ward, specifically for a woman named Rosa: the wife of one of Luca's most trusted associates within the family. She was due any day, and she was craving pickles (according to Flo).

"Hello," Cee beamed as she entered the room, jar of pickles in hand. "I come bearing gifts!"

"Miss Fiero," Rosa waved, lying in her bed, "I don't suppose you have any news about my Gabriel?" Cee shook her head apologetically.

"Unfortunately, no, but I have pickles?" she offered, setting them down on Rosa's table of gifts. Many of the family members had come to drop off teddy bears, flowers, blankets and chocolates; the Romano family extended beyond blood.

"Ah, angioletto mio," she sighed happily, "grazie."

"How are you feeling, Rosa?" Cee perched at the end of her bed, holding out a hand to Rosa.

"Tired," she admitted, "ready to give birth. Angry."

"Angry?" Cee asked, confused.

"With my husband," Rosa confessed, a worried look in her eyes. "I miss him. He should be back by now." Cee frowned, her heart aching for the poor woman.

"He'll be here soon," she promised, squeezing Rosa's hand. "He won't miss this."

---

Cee was asleep when it happened.

Two armoured trucks sped up the driveway, kicking up stones with their speed, skidding on the gravel. The large, wrought-iron gates were shut tight, locked behind them, and chained. Light exploded in the house, men shouting everywhere; the doors of the trucks were flung open.

Men, carrying their teammates, their friends, stumbled towards the house, their hands slippery with blood. There were screams for medics, for doctors, for anyone; the front doors swung open - the few nurses raced out, Dr Jordan and his team hurrying behind.

"It was an ambush," one man gasped, holding a hand to his bleeding chest, but the rest of the conversation was drowned out by shouts for help, for a stretcher. One man was screaming, writhing on the floor, clutching his broken arm, a bullet lodged in his shoulder, until the nurse stabbed him with a needle of morphine.

Dr Jordan was pale amongst the chaos; there were too many injuries for the medical wing. "Anything that isn't life-threatening goes to the First Living Room," he ordered quickly, "even broken bones. I want all the men that might bleed out treated first."

"Yes, sir!"

"Give them a shot of morphine and move them along," he shouted over his shoulder, running after the first stretcher. The nurse swung round, repeating the orders to everyone she could find, helping men limp their way up the stairs.

Luca stumbled down the stone steps, his shirt half-done up, his face white.

"Niccolò!" he screamed, desperately, "Niccolò!"

"Here, sir!" he heard a faint call. Four men were carrying their wounded Don out of the armoured truck, sweat trickling down their foreheads, down their necks. Luca sprinted towards his cousin, noticing the blossoming red stain at the front of his shirt.

"I need Dr Jordan," he shouted, shouldering one of the men out the way to help carry their leader inside. "Dr Jordan!"

Cee woke to almost complete darkness, her head filled with blurred shapes and muffled voices. She blinked, wondering for a second why she had woken up.

"Cee!" Flo shook her again, "Cee, please, you have to come- "

"Flo? Wha- "

"There's no time, Miss!" Flo sounded desperate, throwing Cee her clothes from yesterday. "Hurry!"

Flo was out of the room before Cee had even opened her mouth. She dressed hastily, hearing the muffled sounds of screaming from downstairs. She hurried down the grand staircase, her hand flying to her mouth in shock.

Anna and other women were carrying piles of bandages, water, towards the First Living Room, on the left, but the medical wing..?

Cee took a sharp right, heading to the medical wing, running along the corridor. Through the window, she could see men being helped onto gurneys, their hands sticky with blood.

"Robin!" she called out, skidding to a halt. "What's happening?" Robin spun, her eyes wide; she thrust armfuls of bandages at Cee.

"First Living Room," she ordered, her chest heaving. "Bandage all cuts as quickly as possible - if you have to use a tourniquet, send them through." Cee nodded, blinking rapidly as she tried to process. "The delivery went wrong."

Robin dashed away, pulling her scrubs on over her pyjama top. Cee turned back the way she came, rushing through to the First Living Room. Men were sprawled across sofas, armchairs, even the floor; blood spilled everywhere. The other nurses recognised Cee, but shoved her in the direction of a patient.

"Hi," Cee said breathlessly, "can I take a look at your head?" The man blinked, as if dazed.

He had a gash across his forehead, weeping blood slowly; the cut was nowhere near any major arteries, and Cee ripped open an antiseptic wipe quickly, dabbing away the blood with a piece of gauze. She pressed the gauze firmly to the man's head, ignoring how he flinched, and secured it with medical tape.

"Uh...thanks," he mumbled, touching the tape cautiously.

"Do me a favour, and don't fall asleep," Cee told him, smiling despite the panic in the room. "You might be concussed."

She bandaged several arms, sending a couple of men off to the medical wing as she went. The other nurses were eventually called away for surgery, one by one, leaving Cee with the remaining few.

"What happened to you?" Cee asked conversationally, inspecting a stab wound to a woman's shoulder. She winced as Cee gave her a quick injection of morphine, to help her pain.

"Nothing," she muttered, casting a worried look over her shoulder. "Please, ma'am, Gabriel was- "

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere." A large man, clutching his side, staggered to the sofa. "This is my team." Cee's gaze darted between the two, pressing the gauze down on the woman's shoulder.

"What's your name?" she asked, when neither of them spoke.

"Viola, ma'am. Are you new?" Viola shrieked with pain as Cee removed the gauze, having another look at the tear in her shoulder. Blood bubbled up, spilling down Cee's dirty forearms.

"Something like that," Cee replied, a wry smile on her face as she reached for a fresh needle.

"Please, ma'am," Viola hissed, casting an eye at her team leader, "I think he was shot." Cee's head shot up.

"Hold this down," she instructed, replacing the gauze on Viola's shoulder. "Can you walk?" Viola nodded. "You need stitches. Medical wing, adesso." Cee stood up, darting over to Gabriel.

"Where are you hurt?" she asked, kneeling in front of the man. He was built like a mountain, towering over her, but he looked pale.

"Nowhere," he grunted, shifting. "Help my team."

"Were you shot?" She ignored him, peeling his hand away from his side. Blood poured out of his torso, staining the sofa. "Caspita!"

"It's nothing- " He cut off, groaning in pain.

"Someone help me!" Cee cried, looking around for nurses; they were all gone, stuck in surgery in the medical wing. "Please!"

"What do you need, ma'am?" Several unwounded men were standing around, helping their teammates, now looking to her.

"I need to get him to the medical wing," Cee pleaded, pressing gauze to the bullet hole in his side. "Please, I can't lift him."

"We've got it, ma'am." Two men slung his arms around their necks, forcing him to his feet.

"I need to keep pressure on it," Cee protested, but the man closest to the wound, on his left side, placed his hand there, keeping the gauze in place.

"Got it, ma'am." Cee dashed from the room ahead of them, calling ahead.

"Hey! Hey! Bullet to the torso, bleeding out!" Two nurses dropped their clipboards, dashing to meet Gabriel as he staggered along the corridor. Cee watched as they took over, getting him onto a gurney, wheeling him in to remove the bullet.

"What else, ma'am?" Cee jumped, turning to face the men who had served as Gabriel's crutches.

"What?"

"What else, ma'am?" he repeated, questioningly; the two looked to her for orders.

"Warm water," she forced out, thinking, "and towels. To clean everyone up."

"Yes, ma'am."