Niccolò moved fast, pushing Camilla out of the way and drawing his own gun before anyone could blink. He had his gun levelled at Leo in a heartbeat, blocking Camilla's view of the scene.

"What's happening?" he asked through gritted teeth, his jaw tight, his body poised. At first, no one answered; a bead of sweat was gathering on Leo's forehead.

"He pulled a gun," Elias revealed eventually, as Cee began to pull at Niccolò's arm, trying to get out of the lift, "when I asked him, very politely, to inform us of any weapons on his person." Leo kept his angry stare on Elias, who was staring almost too calmly down the barrel of a loaded gun, his posture loose and relaxed - as if he wasn't at risk of being shot, as if he wasn't holding a loaded weapon.

"Stop pointing guns at my brother," Cee demanded from behind Niccolò, to no response. Niccolò's men were loyal to the family, not to their boss's hostage. "Niccolò, please."

He ignored her, holding an arm out to prevent her from getting around him and into the line of fire. He was like a guardian angel - a dark angel fighting the wrong people; she couldn't get mixed up with this.

"I'm here for Camilla," Leo managed, glaring at Niccolò, his gun still trained on Elias; he looked stressed. Grief had clearly taken a toll on him, but the Fiero resemblance was clear. Cee leaned around her personal mafia-Don-bodyguard, trying to get a better look at her older brother; paler than usual, but looking somehow shadowed - he looked like death, like grief.

"She's not going anywhere," Niccolò replied forcefully, ignoring Camilla's indignant huff. She could hate him all she wanted, but she was not going to get shot - by her brother or his men - in crossfire. "Put the gun down before I decide to kill you slowly myself."

"Niccolò!" Cee's face was pale as he turned on her, backing her into a corner, leaning down to say something to her, and her alone, but the look in his eye terrified her: it was the cold look of a killer who'd killed before and would kill again, the look of a Don who'd kill her for spying.

"You can't," she whispered defiantly, lifting her hands to his chest to push him away, but he held her wrist tight, drawing her in.

"I can, and I will," he murmured, deadly certain, close to her ear. "I won't treat him any differently to anyone else that threatens you or my family." Cee tried to push him again, but he dragged her forward, pulling her into his chest to whisper. "I'll show him mercy in a quick death, Camilla."

To pull a gun on the Romanos, especially in one of their establishments, was a great disrespect. It could not go unpunished; the price was his life.

Cee felt herself go cold as Niccolò pulled away, turning back to her brother to shoot - she did the stupidest thing she'd thought of since voluntarily becoming the Romano's hostage.

She darted past Niccolò, only just evading his furious grab for her, past Niccolò's men, and flung herself into Leo's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck; if he was going to die, if she was going to lose her only living sibling, then she'd go too.

"Camilla." She didn't turn around, keeping her eyes squeezed shut with her forehead resting just above her brother's heart; she could hear how furious Niccolò was.

"Leo, please put down the gun," she whispered, begging her brother. "Please put down the gun. Niccolò- he'll hurt you."

She could feel her brother's arm shaking, sending tremors through his torso. "Just do it, Leo," she pleaded, loosening her grip on him and pulling back, reaching out a hand, slowly, towards his gun.

His eyes were locked on hers; the familiar brown irises that Catarina had shared. His eyes looked bloodshot, tired, almost manic; he didn't want to die like this.

She reached out slowly, her fingers inching towards his weapon, but stared back confidently, unwaveringly; she could get both of them out of this. Her fingers touched cool metal, and Leo watched passively as his sister gently detangled his fingers from the trigger.

She breathed a sigh of relief as the harsh weight of the weapon dropped into her hands, smiling reassuringly back at Leo. "It's going to be okay," she promised, watching his expression blur from anger to fear before she turned around, levelling the gun at Niccolò.

Niccolò stared back impassively, suddenly rigid.

"Easy, boys," she spoke into the tense silence of the lobby, her voice echoing faintly off the glossy walls. "Can we all just come to a peaceful solution here?"

Niccolò looked like he was entirely emotionless, but she knew better; his eyes were burning into her, furious - unlike Elias, who looked amused with the whole situation.

"Camilla," Niccolò managed calmly, his face a mask. "Step away from him."

Slowly, she shook her head, trying to convey some sort of apology to Niccolò with her eyes: you have to understand, she meant, I can't let you kill him.

"Promise me," she compromised, "promise me you won't hurt him, and then I will." Niccolò could see her eyes darting to each of the guns now aimed directly at her, see the hint of fear in her eyes; the last time she'd been held at gunpoint, two of her family members had died. It didn't matter how brave she appeared; he could read her.

"Lower your weapons," he instructed his men, not taking his eyes off of Cee. She glanced around nervously as each man and woman slowly shifted out of their combative positions, returning her gaze to Niccolò; he was inscrutable.

"Right," she breathed, relaxing a fraction. "This is just a misunderstanding. No one is going to die, right, Niccolò?"

He stayed silent, his expression murderous; she was in so much trouble. Slowly, he nodded.

Cee breathed a sigh of relief, flicking the safety on and lowering the weapon, holding it out to Elias (handle-first). He was half-grinning, finding this rather entertaining, as he took it from her hand.

For a second, nobody moved; no one spoke.

Niccolò was seeing red; she was really pushing her luck. Not only did she abandon him immediately for a brother that sold her to him like a pawn, she was giving him orders; she put herself in the middle of a fight that wasn't hers.

Cee turned to her brother, avoiding Niccolò's rage for now. "How are you?" she asked softly, taking Leo in; he was staring bitterly at the Romano Don, but he looked down to her, the anger fading from his eyes.

"I thought you were dead," he replied bluntly, his hand reaching automatically for his gun - which was now in Elias's hands. "Why didn't you tell me your apartment had been blown up?"

Cee shrugged guiltily; she didn't even know why she hadn't told him. It hadn't even occurred to her - she hadn't contacted him since she'd left their apartment, their childhood home.

"I'm fine," she smiled weakly. "I missed you." As she said it, she realised how much she'd missed him; he was her only family now. She missed her parents, but only a little; it's hard to be practically disowned by family and retain the same loving relationship. Leo and Caterina were her family, and Cat was gone.

"As much as I hate breaking up this touching family reunion," Elias interrupted, standing by Niccolò's side, "you still have no right to be here." Cee whirled around, pinning Elias in place with a single death stare.

"Fine," she announced, calculatingly, surprising her brother, "we'll leave then." Niccolò's eyes narrowed.

"You are not leaving with him," he ordered flatly, keeping his eyes locked on hers as his men melted into the shadows, leaving the four of them. Cee shrugged, standing her ground.

"I'm not staying without him, either," she replied softly, trying to convey her message. "You're welcome to join us." Leo made a move as if to protest, but decided against it; Camilla was calling the shots now. "We'll be going to a nearby coffee shop."

Cee started walking towards the revolving doors, entirely unfazed when Stefano stepped in her way, seemingly out of nowhere, his expression unsure.

"Camilla-" Niccolò began, but she didn't allow him the chance to finish.

"Even if you don't come with us, I will come back," she told him. "I promise." Leo's intake of breath barely registered with either of them; Niccolò was searching her expression for a hint of doubt, a lie, a flicker of fear. A Fiero never breaks a promise.

"You're driving with me," he demanded after a pause, "we need to talk."

Cee nodded eventually, compromising to the last. Leo left, his expression wary, to wait in his car; Elias would accompany him.

Niccolò took hold of Camilla's upper arm, half-hauling her towards a car that had pulled up in front of his hotel. She didn't complain, keeping her mouth shut even as his grip became too tight - she didn't want to anger him any more than she already had.

Stefano followed them, climbing into the front after shooting her a sympathetic look; Niccolò joined her in the back, immediately rolling up a privacy screen to separate the driver and Stefano from them.

Cee flinched, avoiding his gaze. "Look at me." Cee stared at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap as the car began to move. "Fucking look at me, Camilla." When she showed no sign of acknowledging him, Niccolò was forced to take matters into his own hands.

Cee gasped as she felt his hand grip her chin tightly, forcing her head up; she bit her lip as he made her face him, his fingers digging into her skin. "When I tell you to do something, you do it, Camilla."

She didn't reply, barely managing to look him in the eye; he was furious. "Explain to me exactly why you thought you could disrespect me in front of my family."

"I was just trying to save Leo," she mumbled, pushing his hand away from her. For a second, Cee thought he was going to slap her; she flinched. "I couldn't let you kill him."

"Let me?" If anything, she'd made him angrier. "Let me kill him?" His voice was so cold, his expression emotionless; he was looking through her, like she meant nothing.

"Niccolò, please-"

"You do not tell me what I can and can't do - is that clear?" Cee felt tears rise to her eyes; she hated making Niccolò angry, hated when he put on the cold mask and pretended he was heartless. "Is that fucking clear?"

"Yes," she muttered, turning away to wipe a tear angrily before he could see it.

"Guardami!" Cee forced herself to look at him, glaring at him with every ounce of hatred she could muster. "If you even think of trying that again, I'll kill you myself."

She felt like she'd been doused with ice-cold water, slapped in the face with reality. She'd jumped in front of Leo without even thinking about her own life; Niccolò wouldn't let her live when it came down to the wire. She needed to be more careful.

"Fine," she replied quietly, keeping her head down. The rest of the short car journey was silent; she could see Niccolò clenching and unclenching his fists repeatedly, his muscles tensed, in the corner of her eye.

When the car rolled smoothly to a stop, Cee was out of the car before she could blink; she didn't want to be any closer to him than necessary. It was bitterly cold in the winter morning, the wind biting at her skin; she wished she'd brought a coat.

Cee shivered, watching her brother's car silently pull in behind the Romano's; Elias and Leo both climbed out, each with a slightly concerned look as they spotted her standing alone.

"Here," Leo joined her, holding out his suit jacket. "You look cold." She shrugged, accepting it reluctantly.

"Buy me a hot chocolate?" she asked quietly, pushing the sleeves up to reveal her hands. Elias glanced between her and the car as Niccolò walked out, his face totally blank, devoid of any and all emotion.

"Sure," Leo murmured, guiding her inside with a quick scowl at the Romano Don. Elias considered his boss for a moment, taking in his clenched fists, the tangled hair which meant he'd been running his hands through it.

"I like her," Elias decided, earning him a glare from Niccolò. He shrugged as he followed his boss into the small café, an unconcerned grin on his face.

Cee felt the warm air swirl around her as she stepped into the café, the smell of sugar and coffee almost comforting in its normality. Niccolò had clearly chosen this one; it was completely empty, but she wouldn't be surprised if he'd paid to have the entire café to themselves.

She smiled at the girl behind the counter; her eyes widened at the sight of the Romano Don entering her café. Cee debated internally whether Niccolò was well-known; clearly something about him meant something to the barista.

"Can I get a hot chocolate, please?" she asked softly, her cheeks turning pink from the warmth. The poor girl nodded, looking faintly terrified; Cee sent her a reassuring smile.

"I'll get one too," Elias piped up with a cheeky grin. Leo was about to make some sort of expletive-filled comment when Cee silently nudged him, giving him a warning look.

"Two hot chocolates, then," he sighed, "and a black coffee for me." The girl nodded, her eyes lingering on Niccolò a second too long; Cee felt a bitter feeling rise in her stomach. She'd never been the jealous type, and this wasn't jealousy - this was a weird longing.

She wanted to be a normal girl, working in a café on weekends while she studied for her degree, staring at attractive, dark strangers whenever they walked in on her shift. Turning abruptly on her heel, Cee headed towards a booth in the corner, not bothering to wait for the boys. She didn't resent her family for being who they were. It was just a fact of life.

Niccolò watched her from a safe distance, watching Leo join her and reach across the table for her hand; he was still furious with her, but she wasn't acting without reason. He couldn't allow her brother special treatment - he shouldn't really give her special treatment either but...

He couldn't kill her.

His threats were only that: threats. They were empty.

He passed over a bill for one hundred to the awestruck barista. "Keep the change," he muttered darkly, striding towards the booth.

The elder Fiero gave him a wary look as he approached, halting their conversation; Elias slid into the booth next to Leo with a grin, letting Niccolò sit next to Camilla, who shifted uncomfortably.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice dangerously low, directed at Leo.

"For my sister," Leo snapped, rising to his bait. "I couldn't trust you were taking care of her."

"As you can see," Niccolò stated emotionlessly, "she's fine." Cee rolled her eyes, making Elias grin.

"You can visit me," she told Leo quietly, freezing as Niccolò leaned over, bending down close enough to touch her. Leo and Elias were distracted momentarily by the arrival of their drinks.

"You don't give the orders around here, carissima," he murmured forcefully, enjoying the faint indignant blush that rose to her cheeks. "But I'll let it slide."

Cee tried to control her racing heart, sipping her burning hot chocolate without thought and regretting it. He was so hot and cold, ice and fire, light and dark. One minute he was threatening to kill her - the next, it felt like he was flirting.

"How are you?" Leo asked, ignoring the Romano for now. Cee shrugged, feeling Niccolò's eyes burning into the side of her head.

"I'm alive," she muttered bitterly, feeling her survivor's guilt eating away at her heart. "I just want to get back to my training."

"Camilla will be completing her training online," Niccolò stated coolly, ignoring Elias's barely suppressed grin. The Fieros turned to him abruptly; she looked horrified.

"You cannot be serious," she blurted out, while her brother looked vaguely impressed, looking at Niccolò in a new light.

"Think about it, Cee," Leo encouraged, "you get to finish your training without being in danger." For the first time, he was looking at Romano with respect; they only had one thing in common.

"Nursing is practical," she protested, glaring between her brother and Niccolò. "I can't learn bedside manner if I'm not physically with patients."

"I'll work out the final details another time," Niccolò addressed Leo, ignoring Cee's exasperation. "Her safety is my priority."

"I'm right here!"

"It sounds like a wonderful idea," Leo admitted, relaxing his shoulders for the first time since Romano had sat down. Cee almost threw her hands in the air, tempted to act like a child if they were going to treat her like one; Elias was grinning at her, patronisingly. She glared out of the booth, at the open road, noticing with increased anger one of Niccolò's men standing by the door.

She'd always be followed, always be trapped.

"I'm willing to negotiate over how often you may contact Camilla," Niccolò mentioned indifferently, as if they weren't discussing every inch of her life, dissecting it to pieces and rearranging everything to suit them.

"I need some air," she muttered, leaving her half-empty mug where it was, pushing past Niccolò abruptly.

He watched her go, letting her slip through his fingers once again.