NICCOLÒ

39. Conflict of Interest

Niccolò leaned back, looking to all of the world like he was relaxing; only someone who knew him could see the lines of tension through his muscles, his shoulders. Elias noticed the dark, cold look in his eye - the look that seemed to signify the end of Niccolò's humanity for that evening.

They were waiting in one of the Romano warehouses, watching the Romano men distributing weapons - getting ready for a fight. Whoever had Camilla - whoever dared to mess with the Romano Don - wasn't going to live through the next twelve hours.

Elias glanced at his watch, angling the dial so that he could see past the reflected glare of sharp fluorescent lighting; it was ten past nine - almost half an hour since Camilla had last been seen. He glanced at the Romano Don, brooding silently, coiled like a snake ready to attack, his muscles tense; Elias liked Cee. She seemed like a good kid - like a cute younger sister - but personal feelings aside, this felt like a trap. She'd known where she was going to be taken and she'd known about the location of a Romano and an employee without telling anyone.

Even though she hadn't seemed the type, good rats never seemed like they came from the sewer.

"Niccolò," Elias murmured, catching his attention surreptitiously, "it's a trap." The Romano Don didn't even bother to look up at him. "Niccolò, you have to think about this."

The man in front of Elias was unrecognisable as he laughed humourlessly, his eyes dead of all emotion, loading and unloading bullets into his gun absently, cradled in his hands. "I know it's a trap."

Elias looked around, searching for help from someone - anyone - who could get through to him; he caught Luca's eye across the room, jerking his head to signal him over before turning back to his boss. "You know it's a suicide mission then," Elias pushed, testing his boss's nerve; the Romano empire was not worth one girl. The Don didn't acknowledge him, staring down at the weapon in his hands.

"Elias," Luca murmured in greeting.

"Stop your cousin from ruining his life over one fucking girl," Elias snapped, losing his patience. "You can't-"

"It's the Caitos," Niccolò said finally, cutting him off. "The Caitos have Camilla - and Flo, and Angela." Luca stared at his cousin, the terror clear in his eyes; the Caitos had been baiting them for years. They were a family that rivalled them in the drug market, unafraid to rape and mutilate women, no issues with murdering children, ready to burn men alive if necessary.

Luca had tried, more than once, to arrange peaceful meetings - inviting them to dinners, peace talks - but the Caitos wanted no part in it. They were driven by violence, greed - by a desire to burn the city to the ground - and made no secret of wanting to get rid of the competition.

If Flo, Angela and Cee were in their hands, they'd be lucky to recover even one missing finger.

Elias had frozen, taken off guard for once. "They have three of our own," Niccolò murmured, the dark shadow hanging over him suddenly feeling like it weighed the world. "My sister, my employee - and Camilla." Camilla didn't fit into his equation. She wasn't even his girlfriend, and yet it felt like his insides were burning now she wasn't here.

"Niccolò," Luca replied eventually, "you don't even know if they're still alive."

Niccolò shrugged, his muscles tight. Maybe they weren't alive. Maybe he'd have to attend all three funerals, one by one, to stare as they lowered each corpse into the ground; to watch lifelessly as Camilla's pale, tiny body was buried below the earth. Hot anger clenched his fists.

He didn't know why it was so painful to imagine it. Camilla should mean nothing to him - she betrayed him - but he needed her. It wasn't love - it couldn't be. Somehow she'd managed to wrap him around her little finger and keep a tiny piece of his heart in the short time he'd known her - but it wasn't love, was it? It was far too early, too much too soon.