NICCOLÒ

14. Divided

Cee considered Niccolò for the longest time; if she hadn't known any better, she would have said he looked uncomfortable. The Romano Don had always been in control of everyone situation they had been in together - it was clear he disliked having the power balance shift in her favour.

He was handsome - there was no denying it - he was sinfully attractive, but Cee tried to look past it, to ignore how she was drawn to his dark eyes.

His face was deliberately blank, but Cee was beginning to learn that it was a mask; emotions give you away. He was protecting himself.

"I can't accept your apology," she said finally, letting out a long sigh. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

"Why?" he asked coolly, leaning back in his chair with his wine glass; he wasn't concerned in the slightest. She'd been wrong: he genuinely didn't care about her opinion it seemed.

She shrugged with one shoulder, pausing as Mia arrived at their table; she served them each a small helping of risotto - the most beautiful mushroom risotto Cee had ever tasted.

"This is incredible," Cee mumbled to herself, sipping at her white wine.

"Mia used to make it for me all the time." She looked up, surprised that Romano had commented.

"When you were a kid?" He nodded, considering her over his wine glass. Cee looked down at her plate for a second, thinking. "When I was little, I used to ask for ice cream at every meal," she told him, risking a quick glance at him. Niccolò didn't smile exactly, but he seemed curious. "My father wouldn't let me - ever - but my mum, Marie, she would sneak me some at night."

Cee flushed - the Romano Don wouldn't care about her childhood. "Sorry," she looked down at her empty plate, "I ramble when I'm nervous." She could feel his eyes on her, resting on her lips, scanning her face.

"I will not hurt you." When Cee looked up, he was watching her steadily, a serious expression in his eyes.

"Right," she mumbled disbelievingly, tracing circles on the table with her fingertips.

"Camilla." She let her eyes flicker up to his again. "I don't benefit from hurting you." Cee almost scoffed.

"You shouldn't hurt people even if it does benefit you." He shrugged, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt; Cee tried not to stare.

"You don't need to be nervous around me," he told her, a slight edge to his tone, "I've told you I won't hurt you. You can relax."

Fortunately, Mia intervened to collect their clean plates. "Thank you," Cee smiled kindly; she beamed back.

"I hope Nico is being on his best behaviour tonight," she said pointedly, a warning to him, "he caused such a scene last time, I nearly banned him from returning." Niccolò shrugged coolly, apathetic. Mia laughed at him, rolling her eyes at his typical act.

"'Nico'?" Cee couldn't help teasing as Mia left.

"She's the only one who has permission to call me that," he mused, casting his eyes over the rest of the restaurant. Everyone seemed happy, smiling and laughing; Niccolò checked the security on the door out of habit, one nodded to him respectfully.

"I have an idea," he said suddenly, standing up and offering Cee his hand politely. She stared at his palm like it was a venomous snake.

"Sorry?"

"Come with me."

---

"Where are we going?" Cee asked finally, breaking the silence in the car. Niccolò looked over at her, the most relaxed she'd ever seen him.