NICCOLÒ

31. Where There's Smoke

The cold air was relaxing, cooling down her flushed cheeks and calming Cee's heartrate. She'd expect this kind of overprotective bubble wrap treatment from Niccolò, not from her brother. Leo was supposed to be sensible, rational - not agree with Niccolò and keep her locked in a cage.

The man on duty, guarding the café from any unsuspecting civilians, looked at Cee curiously, lowering his cigarette with his only arm; she recognised him immediately.

"Hey, Stefano," she mumbled, trying to give a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "How's the arm?" He grinned cheekily, waving his cigarette at her and leaving a twisting ribbon of thin smoke through the air.

"I'm fine, Miss. Cigarette?" he offered, balancing his own between his fourth and fifth finger, pulling out the carton with his thumb and forefinger. Cee felt proud of him; he'd managed to adjust pretty easily to life with one arm - luckily he hadn't lost his dominant hand. "Miss?"

She blinked, snapping back to reality and eyeing the packet warily. "I've never had one," she admitted, looking at the pack like it was about to bite her hand off. "Training to be a nurse, and all."

"Really? Never?" Stefano plucked one out of the packet, giving it to her to hold. "Try it," he suggested, pushing the packet back into his pocket, before freezing. "I mean, unless Mr Romano wouldn't want you to."

Cee almost laughed. Niccolò would hate it; he was a hypocrite for smoking when he was stressed, but she could just imagine him snatching it off her and grinding it beneath his shoe instantly.

"One can't hurt," she insisted, knowing that she was only doing this to spite the boss. Stefano still looked slightly unsure, but handed her his lighter anyway.

She flicked the lighter twice, holding the cigarette to the flame like she'd seen Luca do; the end glowed amber. Stefano nodded to it as he took back his lighter; "Are you going to take a drag or just watch it?"

Cee smiled bitterly, putting it between her lips and breathing in the smoke; it felt heavy in her lungs, but warm. As she breathed out, she had to fight the urge to cough, her eyes watering. Stefano, who had been watching her intently, laughed, smoking his own.

"An acquired taste," she choked, watching the smoke drift upwards. "Not for me."

"Not even to annoy Mr Romano?" Stefano teased, scanning the street for any sign of life. Cee sighed, glancing inside bitterly at the three men. "Putting yourself at risk seems to be his pet peeve at the moment."

"I don't mean to," she replied defensively, looking away as Niccolò caught her eye, her cheeks blushing pink as he beckoned her in; she pretended not to see him.

"The only way you could annoy him more," Stefano murmured, staring across the street, "would be to spy on him."

Cee felt her heart stop, the air in her lungs freezing; she stared at Stefano, her mind spinning out of control. Did he know? Did Stefano know?

Stefano was still staring across the street, his jaw clenched as he took a drag from his own cigarette. If he knew, Niccolò would find out soon enough. If Stefano knew, she would die.

If Niccolò found out, she was dead; she was going to die.

"Camilla." Cee realised blankly that Niccolò was standing in front of her, his smirk fading. "What's wrong?" For a second, she didn't reply, watching the black spots in her vision grow and grow, threatening to block everything from sight and swallow her whole; then she heard shouting.

"Che cazzo, Camilla?" She felt Niccolò grip her wrist tightly, prying the cigarette from her fingers, saw him throw it to the ground, grind it under his shoe. "You don't fucking smoke."