Cee knew she was being a coward.

She knew she was avoiding Niccolò, knew she was delaying the inevitable - but she couldn't force herself to stay in a room with him for long.

Every time he stood up, she felt her heart rate pick up; every time he looked at her, she ducked her gaze; every time he moved, she flinched.

She'd been sitting in her room for almost an hour now, helplessly thinking over possible scenarios. If she tried to tell the cousins about the threat to Flo and Angela, they'd ask how she knew - leading to them suspecting she was a spy, and then: bang. They'd kill her.

If she tried to run away, Niccolò would get mad, find her, and then: bang. Shot in the head.

If she stole the information, she'd actually be a spy and then: bang. Dead.

She was trapped.

Cee sighed, nervously tapping her fingers on the window as she stared out across the city. From within her room, she could hear the faint sound of sirens, of far off traffic and-

Muffled shouting was coming from deeper in the apartment. She turned her head, eyeing the narrow strip of light creeping in underneath the bedroom door; it wouldn't hurt to know what was happening.

She crept out into the small corridor, padding softly to linger at the edge of the edge of the living space. She spotted Niccolò immediately, his back towards her, but it was the other man that concerned her.

Luca Romano was standing strongly, his feet shoulder-width apart, his arms raised straight in front of him; he was aiming for Niccolò's heart.

"I'm not giving up on her," Luca hissed, not noticing her until too late; his eyes widened in shock - and guilt. "Cee." Niccolò didn't turn to look, but she could tell by the way the muscles in his shoulders tensed, just slightly, that he heard; he knew she was there.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly, a soft tremor in her voice that Luca winced at, his stance no longer as powerful as it had been.

"Nothing," Niccolò stated coldly, staring at his cousin standing at the other end, the safer end, of a firearm.

"Flo has been taken," Luca snapped, his eyes snapping back to the Don's, glaring fiercely. "I know she wouldn't leave without permission."

"Flo?" Cee tested the sound of her name in the air, her heart racing. "Who took her?"

"Don't." The Don's tone was sharp enough to cut; he didn't trust her. She glanced at Niccolò, who was refusing to look at her - glaring at Luca.

Of course he doesn't, she reminded herself, her eyes flickering to the ground in a moment of weakness. He wants you dead.

"The D'Angelos," Luca spat, almost shaking with rage, ignoring his boss. "She deserves to know, Niccolò." Niccolò made to move forward, his hands clenched into fists and his body tight with fury, but Luca tightened his grip on his gun, as if his life depended on it. Which it did. "She deserves to know!"

"Know what?" Cee stepped forward daringly, her eyes pleading with Luca. He jerked the gun towards her, motioning for Niccolò to explain, his eyes locked on his cousin's.

"I'll make you regret being born," the Romano Don swore, several Italian expletives leaving his lips - but Luca jabbed the gun at him.

"Tell her." Romano considered his cousin, his eyes dark with anger.

"This is your last warning," he forced through gritted teeth, never once looking at Cee.

"Tell her or I will!" Luca snapped, his eyes reflecting so much pain - so much anger and sadness. He didn't want to be doing this, she realised, he hated this.

Niccolò turned, slowly and unwillingly to Camilla's much smaller frame, looking down at her angrily. She flinched at the violence in his eyes, the promise of danger - even though she knew, in that moment, it wasn't directed at her.

"The D'Angelo group was offering money for you." Cee looked down at his shoes, his shiny leather shoes. She couldn't meet his eyes. "Alive." Niccolò felt his shoulders shiver with such an intense rage that it made his vision fade. "They have a reputation for disrespecting women, for raping them and sending the pieces back."

Cee felt her legs shake, her mouth open silently, forgetting how to breathe. Reality flooded into her mind like a burst damn and she heard a tiny gasp for air escape her lips.

"They took Flo," Luca insisted, adding to her terrified state. "They were the ones that blew up your flat."

"They were offering a lot of money for you," Niccolò repeated himself, his voice so soft it felt like a velvet caress, a dark edge to his tone. Cee felt the walls closing in around her.

"Please." Cee flinched at the sound of her own voice, feeling tears roll down her cheeks. "Please." She hated begging for her life - but she couldn't go through that, no one could be so evil as to hand her over, just like that. "Please don't give me to them."

Niccolò's eyes shone with a black fury, his hackles raised as he advanced on her; Cee tripped as she stumbled away, her back colliding with the wall painfully.

"Give you to them?" he demanded, shaking her roughly; Cee cried out, fighting him away as best as she could, but he held on tight, barely noticing her struggles. "Give you to them?"

"Niccolò, stop," Luca protested, finally dropping his arms holding the gun, moving towards the couple; he paid no attention.

"Tell me you're joking," he asked brusquely, searching her face, holding her arm tight enough to bruise.

"Let me go- Let me GO!" Cee was bordering on hysteria, angry tears spilling out against her will; he was going to kill her, he was going to shoot her or hand her over and then she was going to die.

"Why would I give you to them?" Niccolò swore at Camilla, pushing her hard against the wall by her neck, but not tight enough to choke her. He ignored her incoherent cries, shaking her again like a tiny rag doll. "They'll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands," he stated furiously, his whole body trembling with barely-suppressed rage. "No one will ever- ever touch you, no one will ever take you away."

"Let me go," Cee choked back her tears, refusing to meet his eye as he brushed his thumb against her cheek, staring at her with so much anger in his expression that she felt faint.

"You're hurting her!" Luca protested, interrupting the moment; Niccolò glared over his shoulder, giving Cee enough time to slip out of his hold and dart behind the kitchen counter, keeping the granite tabletop between her and the Romanos. She wiped at her eyes roughly, keeping a cautious eye on Niccolò as he made to follow her, but decided against it.

Niccolò was watching her, almost hungrily; she could tell he wanted to reach out and grab her again but she refused to give him the opportunity. He tensed his jaw, fighting the urge to touch her; her face was still flushed from crying, her eyes red, but she looked defiant and ready to strike.

"The D'Angelos have Flo," Luca repeated finally, drawing both of their attentions. "They took her - probably to torture her - and you're doing nothing, Niccolò."

"You have no proof," Niccolò snapped, ripping his gaze away from Cee. "I will track her down as a deserter when I'm not dealing with the D'Angelos as a threat to Camilla's life."

Cee kept quiet, her shoulders shaking with the effort. She knew Flo had been taken by someone, some group - a family, maybe - but Luca couldn't guarantee it was the D'Angelos and she couldn't tell them that she knew Flo had been taken. They'd kill her.

"She wouldn't leave without telling me!"

Luca was raising his gun, aiming at his cousin once again when Cee interrupted. "Put the gun down." Luca's eyes flickered to her once, conflict displayed clearly in his eyes. "Shooting him isn't going to save Flo."

"You believe him?"

"You believe me?"

Cee flinched as they both tried to speak over each other, fighting the urge to cover her ears. Luca lowered his gun, flicking on the safety, his expression doubtful as he glanced at Niccolò - who glared back.

"You should trust your cousin," she mumbled eventually, feeling Niccolò's eyes resting on her; she ducked her head to avoid his gaze. "Gut instincts are usually right." The Don was silent for a second. "Besides, she wouldn't leave her brother."

Niccolò turned abruptly, slamming his fist into the wall; Cee jumped, cringing away from him. The wall seemed to shake at the force of his anger.

"I will leave tonight." Luca visibly relaxed, tucking his gun back into his waistband and smiling eagerly at Cee; she avoided his eye. If Niccolò was gone, she could try to find some of his files, try to actually save Flo. "But you will stay here, to watch Camilla."

Cee forced herself to breathe, to keep a calm expression. With Luca here, she wouldn't be free to get into Niccolò's laptop - if he even left it behind. The rapidly approaching deadline that she faced now loomed impossibly large: what if she didn't get an opportunity within three days?

"I don't need a babysitter," she muttered under her breath, but Niccolò heard; Cee forced herself not to gasp as he turned, his eyes burning into hers. She flushed to the tips of her ears.

"I'm not risking it," he told her, ignoring Luca's presence in the room, his tone oddly confidential. "You're worth a lot." Cee felt like she'd been slapped with reality; the D'Angelos thought she was worth a lot too.

"Luca - you're dismissed." Niccolò turned on his cousin, his eyes narrowed.

"Yes, boss." Luca looked as though a weight had been lifted; he looked a younger man than when he'd walked in. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me." Niccolò folded his arms, jerking his head towards Cee. "Thank her." Luca turned to Cee, a grateful look on his face - but she turned away, moving towards the safety of her bedroom before he could say a word.

Before she could make it, Niccolò called her name; she stopped, half-frozen with fear. She heard the sounds of his footsteps drawing closer and closer until-

"Camilla," he repeated, his voice making her shiver down to her bones. He was close enough to reach out and touch her, his breath stirring the hairs on the back of her neck. She could smell him; a deep, rich earthy scent of pine and mint. He smelled amazing.

She chose to stay quiet, not trusting her voice to work. "Come here." Niccolò stepped towards the door that separated the corridor from his room - from his bed, the bed she'd slept in.

Cee considered her options quickly. She could refuse - and possibly anger him, leading to her untimely death. Or she could accept, keeping him calm and hopefully keeping her alive.

Sighing, she turned, following him into his room.

Niccolò was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking almost impatient; Cee tried to focus on the floor as he leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and bowing his head. It seemed like a private moment, like she was intruding; he seemed almost like he was praying. If it weren't for the tension she could see in his muscles, the way his shirt was tight against his broad shoulders as he flexed, Cee would've said he was peaceful.

"Niccolò?" Her voice was soft, but it made his shoulders tense even more.

"Please promise me you will stay here." He didn't look up at her, even as she jumped at the sudden sound of his voice.

"What?"

"Promise me you'll stay here." This time, he did look up; his expression was deadly serious. "Don't leave the hotel, don't set foot outside the doors - please." Cee tried not to show her fear.

"I won't," she managed, staring at him. He ran a hand through his tangled hair just once, the action lifting his shirt and revealing the gun tucked into his waistband; Cee couldn't help the sharp intake of air. He noticed, and pulled it out, tossing it to the side carelessly, leaving him unarmed. Cee watched him. "You're not telling me something." Niccolò glanced at her, making his expression carefully neutral.

"What makes you say that?" he replied casually.

"You never tell me anything." The corner of his mouth twitched. Cee managed not to flinch as he leaned back before getting to his feet, towering over her once again.

"You're right," he murmured, turning his back on her and wandering towards the window, staring out at the cold light glinting off the sea of skyscrapers in the city. "I'm not telling you something."

"Can you tell me?" Cee waited patiently, her heart ticking like a time bomb. She couldn't push him too far, or he'd snap.

"The D'Angelos offered me money for you alive, initially," he began, watching her reflection in the window; she stayed completely still. "Now they're offering a lot of money for your corpse." Cee closed her eyes, willing herself to stay calm.

"To you?" she asked calmly, managing to keep her composure, but she couldn't open her eyes.

"No," he answered shortly, pushing his hands deep into his pockets, deep in thought. "No, they know I wouldn't kill you." Cee's eyes snapped open, her mind blank.

"You wouldn't?" Cee crept over to stand by Niccolò, watching their reflections in the window; she dared to risk a glance at him as he rolled his eyes, reaching out his hand instinctively.

"Not without reason." Cee glanced at him, feeling confusion wash over her; he was clearly being sarcastic, which meant he wouldn't kill her - but then the note had implied he had, at some point, wanted to kill her.

"I'm joking," he clarified, pulling her a little closer and wrapping an arm around her waist. Cee closed her eyes, trying to relax into the scent of pine and mint, curling her fingers into the material of his shirt.

---

Cee pulled her pyjama shorts on, tying the strings tightly to stop them sliding off. Niccolò was leaving soon, and it was only eight o'clock in the evening, but she didn't have anything else to do but lie awake in bed and think.

On a positive note, Niccolò and Luca hadn't sold her to the D'Angelos, hadn't killed her and had barely threatened her.

On a less positive note, Niccolò had clearly considered it, and she was stuck in this hotel with a family who would die to defend him.

Cee sighed, pulling back the sheets of her bed before the door slammed open, elliciting a shocked high-pitched squeal from her lips as she whirled around.

Luca was standing in the doorway, a bright smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes; something was bothering him.

"Santo Cielo!" Cee gasped, pressing a hand to her chest as though it would calm her racing heart. "Luca!" He grinned, his eyes staying dim, before noticing her attire.

"You're not going to bed, are you?" he asked disapprovingly, flicking on the lights. "It's a Saturday - we have the whole night ahead of us." Cee stared at him, more than a little suspicious.

"I'm tired," she mumbled weakly, fighting the urge to back away from him as he swept past her, heading for her wardrobe.

"We're going out," Luca informed her over his shoulder, rustling through the barren rail of clothes. "Is this all you have?" Cee shrugged, watching him pick out a dress and examine it critically, before placing the hanger back inside the wardrobe.

"We're going out?" He shrugged one shoulder, grinning at her before tossing a lacy red dress onto her bed. Cee's gaze flickered to it; she hadn't worn it since she went clubbing with her university mates.

"In a manner of speaking."

"Camilla?" Within seconds, Luca whipped the dress out of sight, hiding it underneath the bed; Cee's heart stopped. Hidden underneath the bed was the incriminating letter, email proof and USB, all tucked neatly into the small box.

Niccolò appeared in the doorway, casting a shadow across her face; she felt weak. If Luca picked up the box, and found what was in it, she'd be dead before she could blink.

"Camilla," Niccolò repeated, frowning and taking a step forward; her head felt heavy, but she forced herself to smile weakly.

"Hi," she managed, her face pale.

"Are you alright?" Niccolò reached for her but held himself back at the last minute, drawing himself upright. "Luca will stay with you tonight." She nodded, the room spinning. She was going to die; her blood felt like ice. Shaking her head slightly, Cee looked up, meeting Niccolò's eyes accidentally.

"When will you be back?" she whispered, her heart pounding. Before or after my death, she meant. His dark, dark eyes were seeing right through her; Niccolò's eyes were just like Luca's: worried. Niccolò was worried about something - maybe her, maybe not - but he was doubting something.

"Soon," he promised, his eyes scanning her face as though he was trying to memorise every curve, every freckle. Cee almost trembled, itching to throw herself past him and run - get away from the Romanos. "I'll be back before you wake up."

Cee felt like she was going to be sick. "We're having a quiet night in," Luca piped up, his eyes flashing warningly at Cee; Luca was lying to his boss. Niccolò tore his eyes away from Cee reluctantly, realising Luca was in the room.

"We'll be fine," she whispered, taking in Niccolò's frown. "Please find Flo." Please, please find Flo; if she was dead, she couldn't steal his files. He leaned forward and Cee froze, feeling his lips brush against her forehead, the shadow of stubble just touching her skin.

"Stay safe," he murmured, listening to her heart race; she was trembling.

"We will," Luca announced, his eyes following Niccolò as he headed out.