"Luca." Her voice was soft, but his eyelids twitched, just enough to acknowledge her. "I've brought you food, sir."

Luca grimaced as he attempted to sit up, his face twinging painfully. His ribs were bandaged, his left eye swollen; he looked a mess.

"Thanks," he muttered, barely moving his lip - the cut hadn't quite healed. "You didn't have to do this, Flo." She smiled, setting the tray on his bedside table.

Luca struggled, taking a sip of water before fatigue overcame him; he sank into the pillows, closing his eyes. Flo watched.

"I have an update for you." Luca's eyes reopened; he stared up at the ceiling.

"Go on," he prompted cautiously. She took a calming breath, focusing on the wall opposite; he had a private room. It was cold, sterile - the opposite of the Romano boy in bed.

"We've had to take Anton in." Flo winced as her news struck, watching the anger spread across his face.

"What?" He sounded frustrated. "That wasn't the plan- we haven't found out his employers yet!"

"I know, I know- but he found his tracker and destroyed it, before trying to take off." She avoided his gaze, staring at the floor. It was suspiciously clean, like a bloodstain had just been bleached away. "He's in the cells."

"Cazzo," Luca sighed, forcing himself to sit up despite the streaks of pain shooting down his ribs. Flo looked at him uneasily, not knowing how to help. "Now we have no way of finding which family he was with."

Flo shrugged, settling on the edge of his bed carefully. "But they have lost their spy."

"And Cee doesn't know?"

"No. Mr Romano instructed me to keep all business from her." Luca rolled his eyes. "Of course he did."

Flo hesitated, smoothing the sheets beneath her fingers. "I hope you don't mind me asking, sir," she started, staring at her lap, "but is Mr Romano going to..?"

Luca shook his head. "Boss isn't going to tell her about it." Flo forced a neutral expression onto her face, but he noticed the flash of anger.

"It's her father," she responded, her calm tone cracking. "She deserves to know." Luca let out a frustrated sigh, ignoring the sharp pain at the deep breath.

"What he says goes," he said finally. "If he thinks it's better to hide information, it's for a reason."

Cee closed her eyes, her body trembling as she leant against the wall outside Luca's room; she listened mutely.

"She'd leave if she found out her father was dying."

---

Cee balled up a shirt and stuffed it into her bag hurriedly, her palms sweating. She had to leave - she left her family for four years, she couldn't miss anything else. She had to say goodbye; Leonardo was her father - he had raised her to pride her dignity, to keep her promises - Leonardo Fiero was many things, but he was also a good father when she was younger.

Her heart was racing, her knees weak, but she forced a water bottle into the small bag that she usually used to carry books back and forth from the medical wing. What if she didn't make it in time? Anton was a spy, her father was dying-

She needed to contact Leo, as soon as possible - would her radio still work? Cee rifled through her drawers, growing more frustrated as the clock ticked, counting down the minutes she had left.

She found it, finally, left in a box at the bottom of her wardrobe along with the discarded dress from the disastrous dinner with D'Angelo; sharp relief flooded her body.

She pressed a couple of buttons randomly, despairingly. Nothing happened. She flicked a switch and pressed the alarm button that her father had taught her to use only in an emergency.

Nothing.

Cee added it to her bag, hoping she could get in range of her family later - she could hitch a ride; it would be easier than trying to steal a car.

She hid the bag under the bed, her breathing shallow. She'd have to leave under the cover of darkness - she couldn't risk being caught.

Niccolò was never planning to let her go. He was keeping her like a bird in a cage; trapped with dangerous looks and stupid tingling feelings whenever he touched her. Her father was dying - Cee collapsed onto her bed, her eyelashes wet.

She barely knew her father anymore. The father she had known as a child would never have agreed to bargain at the risk of his flesh and blood; it wasn't the Fiero way. She'd lost her father - but it wasn't too late. Not yet.

He'd sent for her, to help with the negotiations with the Romanos. That meant something. He wanted to reform their relationship, as father and daughter, even after she walked out on them, refused to be a part of their business. Leonardo Fiero had tried, and she wasn't going to let it go to waste.

Cee sat up, her mind racing, her heart pumping; she couldn't leave yet. Someone would see - someone would know. Everyone recognised her around the house, she still didn't fit in. The ache in her heart grew until it choked her, taking away her air; she began to cry silently. She may not have liked her father recently, especially as he tried to bargain away Caterina, but he was still family. He was still her dad.

---

Cee crept round the garden, her shoes damp with dew. The night was unlit - a new moon - and it was cold. She'd waited until she was sure everyone would be asleep, aside from the security team. Niccolò had left for business mid-afternoon.

She darted over the wooden bridge, at the bottom of the garden, flinching at the sound of her own footsteps. Flo hadn't noticed, she'd made sure of that; she didn't want Flo to get into trouble for letting her out.

Cee waited behind a bush, crouching, for the security to drive past on the track. She ducked as one shone a torch at the bushes near her, her heart leaping to her throat - they passed on.

As the sounds of the engine faded, Cee crept across the track, hurrying to the base of the tall tree, towering over the chain link fence. How the sniper had managed to get over the fence, she didn't know, but several of this tree's branches hung low; she was going to attempt to climb the tree to get out of the grounds.

She checked the coast was clear, tightening her bag straps around her shoulders, before reaching up in the dark to find some sort of hand hold she could use on the trunk.

She scrabbled around in the blackness, heaving herself up slowly: she wasn't well-trained, or particularly strong. She slipped a couple of times, catching herself by a thread each time; eventually, sweating and dirty, she managed to peer over the top of the fence.

Slowly, she shuffled along the branch, until she was balancing dangerously on the other side of the fence. Cee was breathing heavily, but fear twisted her gut, forcing her to drop to the floor. Silently, she gasped in pain at the shock radiating up through her heels - she had landed awkwardly.

Scrambling to her feet, she clutched her backpack tightly and started to jog around the perimeter, towards the road. She'd escaped.

Cee stumbled across the fields, heading towards the nearest road. It was too dark to see her footing, and she tripped a couple of times; she pressed on.

She made it to the edge of the grass, stumbling towards the tarmac road desperately; headlights caught her figure, exposing her from the shadows.

Cee flinched, holding her arm over her eyes to avoid the bright beams. The car was parked, hidden behind a thick bush; it was almost invisible - had its lights been off. She scrambled away as a figure climbed out of the passenger seat, silhouetted against the night sky.

"Miss Fiero." Cee paused, recognising the voice vaguely; she backed away cautiously, keeping a safe distance. "It's your uncle."

"Uncle Vin?" Cee blinked in disbelief, watching as the familiar man stepped into view, his palms held up.

"We received your distress signal." She stepped forward, clutching her hands around the straps of her backpack. "What's happening with Papa?"

"So he told you." Vin looked satisfied, his resemblance in the dark to Cee's father making her heart squeeze.

"Is he okay?" Cee felt her throat burn with tears; she was tired and emotionally drained. "I need to see him." Vin nodded, sweeping his hand towards the car.

"Get in." She stumbled across the smooth gravel, wiping her eyes surreptitiously. Vin guided her towards the back door with a careful hand, a worried crease across his forehead. "Quickly."

Cee climbed in, half-falling, hearing the door slam behind her. As the car engine ignited, she heard a shout in the darkness, followed by lights. "Go!" Vin shouted, a torch light catching his face in sharp definition, fear distorting his features.

Cee fumbled with her seatbelt, strapping herself in - she could see movement in the darkness - someone running -

The car engine revved, the wheels spinning. Cee clutched the door handle as she was thrown back against the leather seat, her neck jolting painfully. She let out a small cry as the familiar sound of bullets being fired cracked the air; the car jolted, something - someone - slammed into the windscreen - blood - blood -

Cee screamed.

"Esco!" Vin ordered, ignoring the spider web of shattered glass that marred the windscreen. Cee forced herself to take in a breath, her lungs shuddering with the effort. The car screeched away, leaving a body in the road.

---

"Vin," Cee whispered finally, her throat hoarse. She leant forward. "What's going on?"

"Just wait," he snapped, not even turning his head to look at her. Cee sank back into the comforting smell of leather, letting her fists clench and unclench on her knees. She had sat silently, her heart cracking open, for hours - she didn't even know what time it was.

An uneasy fear settled on her shoulders, making her shiver. She had nowhere left to turn - Flo and Luca wouldn't betray Niccolò, her father was dying -

"Why didn't Leo come?" Vin's shoulders were tense, she could tell.

"Work," he replied tersely, light glinting off the cracks in the windscreen. Cee tasted bile. Something was wrong. If her family got her distress signal, Leo would have come.

She kept quiet, holding her tongue. Leo would be with her father, she reasoned, keeping herself calm. There's no need to panic. As the car sped along the deserted roads, Cee watched the streetlights flicker by, one by one, like soldiers marching along. The rocking, even flashes of light helped her eyes close, slowly, and she slipped away into a restless sleep.

---

Cee jolted awake from her nightmare, still feeling the darkness pressing into her eyes. She'd dreamed about the basement of the Romano House again, but this time, as she tried to climb the stairs, the door moved further and further away.

Her lungs heaved a sigh of relief, and she realised that they were pulling up at the Fiero warehouses. The familiar concrete block loomed against the grey, miserable sky; there were no lights on, surprisingly.

Cee pulled at her door, finding it locked and sat back, frustrated; her father was dying inside - and she had to wait for someone to open her door for her.

Vin opened her door, keeping a firm grip on her arm as she climbed out - as if she was going to melt between his fingers like ice. Cee looked down at his thick fingers, uncomfortably warm against her sleeve.

"Come on," Vin demanded, hauling Cee after him like unwanted luggage. "He needs to see you." She nodded mutely, tripping over her own feet; she'd have to go back for her bag, left alone on the back seat.

Vin half-dragged her through the door, the familiar hallway, through the echoing entrance; it smelled of bleach . He led her upstairs, up the carpeted corridors, past her father's office.

"Where are we going?" Cee asked finally, pulling her arm out of his grip. "Where is my father?" Vin pointed at the room at the end of the hallway - to a spare room.

"In there." Cee didn't wait to hear anything else; she strode along the corridor, reaching for the door handle.

"Papa?" The door swung open; the room was dark, the blinds drawn - it smelled of dust. Cee stepped into the room uncertainly, her eyes adjusting slowly.

"Papa?"