NICCOLÒ

27. Hiding in Plain Sight

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.