NICCOLÒ

26. Decisions and Mistakes

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.