My head is nestled into a heavenly white pillow, the plush fabric so think and smooth that almost my whole head disappears as it's lain into the material. 

Light is peeking through the window sneakily, and shines right onto my eyes. 

But it's not the light or the insane level of comfort that wakes me up. 

It's the banging sound coming from the front door. 

I spring up out of the guest bed, and grab the sweatshirt that Roman had loaned me last night. My bare feet pad against the plush beige carpet as I move on tip toe towards the guest room door. 

I open the door slightly, peeking my head out, only for it to be pushed back in. 

"Hey!" I shout slightly, before my mouth is muffled by a calloused hand. 

"Kate, shut up." Roman's whisper hits me with a start and I jump. 

"What is-" I say, my voice hindered by his hand. 

"Marcel is at the door. You need to stay hidden."

Marcel. 

The one who has my mother hostage and is out for my blood. 

Is at the front door of my safe house. 

What a way to wake up. 

"How does he even-"

"Look, I need to be downstairs with Vincenzo and Marcel, but you need to stay here. And that's not a suggestion. Stay put, Katya." 

Roman's face is just like it was last night, stern and stoic. 

I just nod my head and his hand disappears from my mouth. 

"Stay here." He whispers lowly, before he disappears down the hallway. 

Sike. 

I put my hand to the handle of the door, easing it open, only for it to be shut again. 

"Nice try, gringa. Stay here if you want to live. And if you so desperately want to listen in, I suggest listening to the vent by the window. Ciao." 

And I hear the sound of wheels on hardwood floor as he disappears down the stairs. 

I race over to the window, going down onto my hands and knees and placing my ear over the vent. 

I can hear slightly muffled voices and I groan, hoping that they clear up. 

I can vaguely pick out the strained tone of Luka, as well as Roman's more lighthearted tone. 

Then there's a third voice, obviously Marcel's. 

It's just as slick and slippery as last night. Like a snake trapped in a woven basket. 

Come on, move closer to a vent. 

"You haven't been going to school, hermanito." Marcel hisses, and I'm guessing he's speaking to Luka. 

"What's it to you? You barely stayed in school past third grade." Luka snaps back, and I pray that he keeps his cool.

"You know that Iago has been looking for the girl. You know she's in your school. Don't you want to help him?" Marcel's tone is dangerous and tight, losing it's more loose slips and dips. 

"You can call him your father, Marcel. No need to be ashamed." I can hear the smirk painted on Luka's face, and I worry that he's having far too much fun poking his brother's buttons. 

"Careful, hermanito. You're the one who should be ashamed. You'd rather prance around with those white kids at your school and smoke instead of upholding our father's reputation. You're a wannabe, a failure."

Stay calm, Luka. Don't blow. 

"What are you doing here, Marcel?" It's Roman's voice now, and I had almost forgotten that he was there. 

"I'm following my father's direct instructions to work with my brother, Romano. The only question is why is he staying here, instead of being at home? Got something to hide?" 

I hold my breath, as if he can hear me breathing through the vents. 

"I think it's time for you to leave." Roman speaks up, and I can hear him rolling slightly in the direction of the door. But no footsteps follow him. 

"Romano, don't speak to me unless I speak to you first. Let me remind you who allowed you to purchase this house at no cost." 

Silence on Roman's end. 

"Let's take a look around shall we?"

"This is my home, Marcelo." Roman interjects quickly, but his voice followed by a slap and a thud, a clatter of metal against the ground. He must have fallen out of his chair. 

Part of me wants to sprint downstairs to help him but the other part know that that's a suicide mission. 

"Marcelo, come back here." I hear Luka bark, but then the stomps of heavy feet against the stairs, and my heart leaps into my chest. 

Hide, I have to hide. 

But what if he finds me, no hiding spot is good enough to escape from a mafia boss. 

"What do you have in your room, Vincenzo?" I hear Marcel's voice at the end of the hallway, and my eyes land on the mask from last night, as well as the dress shirts in Roman's guest room closet. 

Idea time. 

I snatch up the mask, and quickly strip from the sweatpants and baggy t-shirt I had been sleeping in. 

I need to look as much like "the morning after" as I can. And the mask may look ridiculous, but it's worth a try. 

I take my hair out of its bun and make it look at messy as possible, strands of curly hair floating in all directions. I move over to the bed and mess up the many pillows, causing them to be strewn across the room. I mess up the comforter, making it as wrinkled as possible. 

I pray to god that this works. 

I move over to the bed, wrapping my legs in the comforter, and pressing the side of my head against the pillow. 

I slow my breathing and pretend to be asleep. 

"How about the guest room, hermanito?" I can hear Marcel's voice from across the door, and I can hear my heart in my ears. 

Breathe, Katya. Breathe. 

"Marcel-" I hear Luka's voice try to stop Marcel before the door swings open. 

"Who is this?" I can hear the cackle and sneer in his voice, as he marches over to the bed. 

"Marcel-" Luka's footsteps follow Marcel's, and he's about to grab me when I open my mouth in a loud yawn, opening my eyes slowly. 

"Ah, morning, baby." I say, trying to sound as sultry as possible. I stand up, causing Marcel and Luka to both step back and away from me. Both of their faces are covered by confusion and I try my best to act my ass off. 

I turn to Luka, and with all my might, I force a smile on my face and move forward before I can change my mind. 

I wrap my arms around his neck and lean up on my toes, pressing my lips against his. I try my hardest to ignore the heat that pools down to my toes as our lips connect, and his hands go to the bottom of my back, squeezing my waist slightly. He follows my lead, and kisses me back. I try to ignore how soft his lips feel against mine. 

Focus, Katya. 

I giggle falsely, pulling away and brushing a strand of hair away from my face. 

I don't turn away from Luka, who instead turns his head to face Marcel. 

"As you can see brother, I'm about to be rather busy. I think it would be best if you return at some other time. I'm sure you can see yourself out." 

"I see. I'll be returning in due time, hermanito. So stay put." He growls and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Luka and I both hold our breathes, waiting for the final slam of the door before exhaling. 

I move away from him, my body growing cold from the loss of his warmth. 

"Smart thinking, gringita." He whispers huskily, and I unstrap the mask from my face. 

"Just trying to stay alive."