Cee stayed silent, tears rising to her eyes and choking her; of everything Niccolò could have said, it was the worst possible scenario. She kept her back to him, unwilling to cry in front of him again - he'd seen her vulnerable too many times.

Sometimes, she forgot this man had tortured her, locked her in a basement for a week; she forgot that he was a murderer.

"Fine," she managed, her voice barely a whisper. It made sense. It was him, after all.

Niccolò watched her leave, his jaw tight. It had been a mistake to hug her; they both knew that - anyone could have seen. If the D'Angelos, or any other damned family found out his weakness for her, they'd take her - they'd rip her to shreds and send the pieces back to him in the post with first class stamps.

But he wasn't willing to take that risk. He was going to kill them first.

---

Niccolò sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at his laptop; he couldn't remember why he opened it twenty minutes ago. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling his phone from his pocket as it rang sharply.

"Romano."

"It's Luca." Niccolò pressed the phone a little tighter to his ear, his heart rate picking up; he stood up.

"What's the news?" He could hear the note of urgency in his voice, of desperation; if Luca had carried out his end of the plan, Camilla would be one step closer to safety.

"I'm sorry." His words struck Niccolò like a blow to the face; he staggered backwards, feeling an odd twist in his stomach. "Anton was gone when I arrived - he could have gone missing any time within the last twenty-four hours."

"How the hell did Anton escape from the cells?" Niccolò swore, running a hand across his face; he'd ordered for the prisoner spy to be taken out of action - permanently. "I ordered top security all around him."

"A couple men were found dead," Luca explained, his voice unusually tight. "He must've had help."

"You're telling me I have more than one traitor?" Niccolò slammed a hand against the window, staring out at the skyline of the city. "Fucking hell."

"We'll find him," Luca promised, his voice crackling on the line. "Anton hasn't managed to kill Cee yet, that's the good news."

"Yet," Niccolò muttered grimly. Having one traitor in his family was bad enough; having two would make him look weak. Anton had leaked information to someone - one of the big families - and risked Cee's life while doing it; now he had supporters.

"We can protect her."

"Find him," he demanded, growing impatient. "I want to know who Anton's working for, and I want to kill him myself."

"Anton?" Niccolò wasn't surprised Cee had been listening in; she was smart. Information was power. "Why was he in the cells?"

Niccolò turned, taking in the towel wrapped around her hair, the short towel around her body; she was still slightly pink from the heat of the shower. He frowned. She wasn't making it easy for him.

"He was a traitor," he told her coldly, his anger tensing his jaw. "We think he caused an explosion at one of our weapons deals."

Cee blinked up at him, her heart throbbing. "Oh." He looked like the storm raging outside; he was made of thunder and lightening. He was beautiful. "I thought I was supposed to be the spy," she joked weakly, trying to lighten the mood.

After everything that had happened, to Caterina, to her parents, she'd forgotten that Anton had been a rat.

Niccolò looked at her, trying to force himself to smile, just for her, but couldn't. "He must have been the one to leak your address," he mused, walking across the room towards his laptop; Cee reached out hesitantly, her fingertips just grazing his arm as he passed.

"Niccolò?" she mumbled, looking at the floor. He turned to her, tilting his head to one side. Cee paused, changing her mind. "I don't want to die." Cee shrank back as he turned away, feeling weak. She knew she wasn't cut out for mafia life.

"You're not going to," he replied coldly, sitting back in front of his computer screen, refusing to look at her. "I won't let you." Cee stood there, for just a second longer; she should tell him. But she couldn't.

Cee turned, walking away silently; Niccolò couldn't help her. She slipped back into her room, closing the door behind her and locking it, turning around and pressing her back against the wood. She needed to think - alone.

Her gaze fell upon the offending box again; jewellery sized, large enough for a necklace - the note lay beside it, creased. She should ask Niccolò to find out who it was from, if this was suspicious, but she couldn't. He was a murderer.

Dear Cee,

She closed her eyes as the non-threatening words began to swim through her mind again.

Call this number.

After the list of digits, there was something taped to the letter; she hadn't realised what it was at first - but now she knew. It was human hair - someone's hair - taped to the letter. It was a threat, somehow - she didn't even recognise the dark hair.

Cee looked down at the mobile clutched in her hand; it was the one Niccolò had left out for her. He probably hadn't intended for her to call strangers that sent her ransom letters but it was a little too late for that.

Carefully, she typed in the phone number, pulling her towel away from her hair, her heart rate increasing. It rang once, twice. Eventually, Cee's heart rate dropped back to normal; no one was going to pick up.

"Good evening, Miss Fiero." The voice was male - with a hint of an Italian accent. Her heart stopped.

"Who is this?" Cee asked quietly, feeling panic building at the back of her throat. "How did you deliver your note to my room?" She paced silently towards the window, keeping her voice low; if Niccolò heard her, he'd kill her.

"Haven't you learned by now that, in this line of business, asking too many questions gets you killed." Cee closed her mouth, feeling anger cloud her mind for just a brief second; she took a deep breath.

"What do you want?"

"Patience, girl." The man took his time, listening to her breath heavily. "You're going to steal some files for me."

"Why would I do that?" Cee could almost hear the sound of the man grinning a sick smile.

"For starters, little Angela's life is in danger." Cee whirled around sharply, examining the dark hair taped to the letter; it was the same shade as Luca's hair - as Niccolò's hair. "Secondly, I have a friend of yours." She felt bile rise in her throat as she heard defiant shouting - shouting that she recognised - and then the horrific sound of skin on skin.

"Say hello, Flo." The man's voice was cruel, patronising, laughing at the other end of the line. "She's so pretty, isn't she?" Cee gripped her phone so tightly she thought the screen would crack.

"Don't fucking touch her," Cee spat, pulling a hand through her tangled, wet hair. "Where is she?"

"Ah, ah," the man tutted disapprovingly, his voice oddly hollow over the phone. "You should be asking where to deliver my files."

"I don't understand what you want from me," Cee hissed, feeling angry tears of frustration gloss over her eyes.

"That's very simple, Camilla." The man laughed, slightly manically. "I want you to collect copies of Romano's business lists: find out the name of every business he owns or has shares in. Got that?"

Cee nodded, defeated, and mumbled an agreement into the phone. "That's the easy one." Cee tensed.

"There's more?" she asked incredulously, clenching and unclenching her fists nervously.

"I want all of his finance information - all of it." Cee closed her eyes, struggling to comprehend her situation; this lunatic not only wanted her to steal information from Niccolò - he wanted her to find out his bank details - everything. "And I want a list of the people he's holding hostage."

Cee felt the frustration burn through her like acid; how the hell was she supposed to do all of this?

"Easy," the man said - she'd spoken out loud - "you steal it. Download all of my information to the USB - and deliver to my warehouse."

"You're insane," Cee snapped, "if you think-"

"Tut tut, Camilla." The man cut her off, his voice slightly further away from his phone; he sounded like he was smirking. Cee flinched as she heard Flo screaming, the sound of heart-breaking, agonising pain.

"Stop it!" she hissed, casting a nervous look at the door. "Stop it, stop hurting her!"

"You agree to my terms?" The man paused; he was waiting for her to agree.

"Yes, yes," Cee agreed hurriedly, guilt washing over her as Flo sobbed - her cries were echoing, wherever they were. "Files in exchange for Angela and Flo. Got it."

"The warehouse address is 1, King's Avenue - in your city outskirts." The man paused for a second; Cee tried to rein in her seething hatred - he sounded so smug, so slick and oily. "You have three days. Your deadline is 9pm Monday - if you miss it, I'll kill them both."

Cee closed her eyes, thinking quickly; she had to tell Niccolò, had to warn him somehow-

"Before you even think about telling Niccolò, I would open the box." The man seemed to have read her mind. Cee eyed it warily, sitting innocently on her bed.

"What is it?" she asked quietly, stepping closer to it.

"You'll see." Cee heard a click; he'd hung up. Cautiously, she approached the box; it had a satin finish, a neat emerald ribbon tied around it. She tugged on one end of the bow; it unravelled smoothly. She opened the lid.

On top of smooth tissue paper, a small, grey USB sat waiting for her. She dropped it to one side, pulling the tissue paper aside. Underneath was a folded piece of paper.

She opened it, scanning quickly.

It was a string of emails - or a small part of it - but Cee only read the bit circled in red pen.

Organise death of Fiero brother - he will not cooperate if or when he becomes Don. I want him dead before he becomes a problem. -N (10.03pm)

What about Camilla? She wouldn't be happy if she found out. It would be easier if she wasn't in the picture. -L (10.07pm)

It's none of her business. I agree - might get rid of her permanently. She is a liability. -N (10.10pm)

I want her gone by the time I get back from Italy. -N (10.12pm)

It took a second before it truly sank in; Cee felt her heart slam against her ribs.

Niccolò had planned to kill her.

Cee stared up at the ceiling, her mind whirling; every sound she heard from outside her door made her flinch. She hadn't moved in a couple of hours, trying to calm the fear running through her veins.

She had to save Flo - she had to help Angela. There was no question about it; Cee would have to get those damned files.

But could she do it? Could she live with someone who had ordered her execution?

She was lucky to be alive - she knew that. The Romanos' plan must have been interrupted by other circumstances - her escape to the Fiero House had come at the right time; the assassin that had shot at her in the Romano grounds had saved her life, ironically - he had caused a chain of events that had delayed her death.

Cee lifted a hand to her mother's rosary, hanging around her neck. Each other of the beads was worn smooth, polished by Marie Fiero every night. The rosary beads clinked against the cold metal of the Romano chain; the necklace Niccolò had instructed her to wear felt like a collar, choking her.

She had to save Flo - she had to spy on Niccolò - and at the end of the two weeks, she had to get back to her brother.

She had to warn Leo - the Romanos planned to kill him too.

Cee heard the sound of footsteps interrupt her panicked thoughts; she grabbed the box, the letter, and tucked them underneath the bed, leaping onto the bed and curling up as someone knocked softly on the door.

"Camilla." She shut her eyes, trying to slow her breathing quickly; her heart was racing. Deception didn't come easily to her.

She heard the door open, but she was facing away, towards the opposite wall, pretending to sleep.

Niccolò stood in the doorway for a second, his shadow falling over her; Camilla was curled up tightly, her bedside lamp still glowing softly.

His jaw tightened. He should've gotten rid of her while he had the chance.

Now he couldn't; she seemed too innocent. He'd gone soft. If anyone found out-

Niccolò's shoulders tensed; he couldn't think about that. He refocused on Camilla; she hadn't even pulled back the sheets on the bed.

Luca knew - of course - and Elias had guessed.

He stepped further into the room, frowning; there had been no reason for her to move bedrooms - he entertained the notion of keeping her in his room, enjoying the idea of her sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes.

Niccolò moved silently, walking around the bed to look down at her, the way her fingers clutched the sheets for comfort.

Her new mobile, the one he'd bought, was sitting on her nightstand; he felt a wave of satisfaction roll over him. Something about providing for her, giving her things, gave him some weird pleasure; Niccolò was tempted to reach out, to carry her through to his room, to let her sleep in his arms - but he knew he couldn't.

He couldn't get any more attached than he already was. The girl was distracting him, occupying his time and mind - he couldn't have her. His family was relying on him, the threat to her was too great. He'd have to wait.

Cee kept her eyes closed tightly as she felt his gaze resting on her face; the light from the lamp vanished - she heard Niccolò leave the room abruptly, closing the door behind him.

She opened her eyes, her body on edge; he'd turned out the light and left. For now, he was keeping her alive - but not for long.

Cee wrapped her arms around herself, rolling onto her back and releasing the breath she'd been holding. If Niccolò found out about her intention to steal from him, he'd kill her.

And even if he didn't find out, he'd still kill her.