Page 215 of Tangled up in You

TANGLED IN AMORE

CHRISTINE PAIGE

CHAPTER 1

TIFFANY

"Oh, bloody hell!"

The banging on my apartment door wakes me up from a deep sleep. I groan and roll over, facing away from the door, hoping whoever is making all that racket will go away. Don't "they" know I'm trying to sleep off last evening girl’s night out.

I groan as the relentless pounding continues.

The blinding sunlight pours through the expansive industrial-style windows, flooding my loft with a harsh light that reveals the chaos of my surroundings. In my desperate attempt to cling to the last remnants of sleep, I shove my head deeper into my pillow, seeking refuge and hoping against hope that whoever takes the hint will retreat.

"Go away!" I shout, a dull throbbing at my temples as my body protests the noise the pounding is making.

With a groan, I reach for my phone, squinting at the screen when it flickers to life. Its nine o'clock in the morning. Are they serious? "Go the FUCK away!" I shouted again. All I want to do is return to sleep's blissful darkness.

"Tiffany, open this damn door now, or I will break it down!" The muffled voice came through loud and clear, sending a jolt of anxiety down my spine. Franco?! What the hell is he doing here?

"Tiffany Alicia! Don't make me repeat myself. Open this fucking door now, or your ass will pay the price!" Franco's voice boomed through the barrier, loud and unmistakable.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, realizing just how urgent this was. I was well aware of my heart racing with anxiety. When Franco made a threat, he meant it. His tone didn’t allow for any argument.

"Alright! Give me a minute!" I shout back, failing to keep the irritation out of my tone. "And don't you dare break down my door. If you do, I’ll murder you.

As I scrambled out of bed, the sheets tangled around my foot, sending me crashing to the floor with a resounding thud. I could sense Franco's amused chuckle reverberating from the other side.

Disgusted, I turned away from the mess on my floor.

Fuck, just what I need now, him laughing at me as I limp toward the door.

My heart races faster with each step as I approach the door. My mind is full of questions, chief among them: What is Franco doing here? He rarely visits and only when I invite him.

I hold my breath as I look through the peephole. The world outside reduces to a slender circle. Franco stands closest to the door; his tall and imposing figure is dark against the bright backdrop of the hallway. He wears a perfectly tailored black suit that clings to his muscular frame, giving off an air of authority. His stern expression, eyes piercing and intense, show he was not here for pleasantries. There's an impatient intensity in his gaze as he sweeps the corridor, a palpable energy that sends a jolt of unease through me.

Beside Franco is Giovanni leaning casually against the wall. This has to be bad if both of them are here. Gio’s suit is lighter than Franco's, making him more approachable despite the lingering predatory air. His lips curl into a mischievous smirk that hints at trouble and plays at the edges of my mind. He catches my gaze through the peephole, his dark eyes glinting with an unspoken challenge, as if he knows how much this moment rattles me.

I take a moment to search for any sign of Nico. Normally wherever these two are Nico is right beside them.

This is not good. A shiver runs up and down my spine; something is wrong.

“Tiffany!” Franco's impatience radiates through the door as I make them wait, while Giovanni's playful energy seems almost inviting.

I sighed heavily.

I take a moment to collect myself, shaking off sleep. Pulling my shoulders back, I plaster a broad smile, ready to put on my best cheerful self. There’s no escaping, I begin to unlock my door. The clinking of each lock sounds like a gunshot to my ears.

As I swing the door open, the sunlight in my loft streams out into the hall illuminating them in a warm, golden glow. I can't help but notice how the light dances across their features—Giovanni's sharp jawline, mischievous smile, and Franco's warm eyes that seem to hold secrets.

It's really disarming how handsome they both are, making my knees weak. Too bad they are off limits. I would really love to run my hands along their fit bodies. I sense a flutter in my chest, recognizing that having such feelings toward them is out of the question. Yet even as I battle the feelings swirling within me, I can't deny the pulse of attraction that tingles beneath the surface.

"Good morning, boys," I greet them, leaning against the doorframe with a welcoming gesture of my hand. “What brings you here on this gorgeous Sunday morning?”

Giovanni and Franco push past me as they step into my apartment.

The playful banter in Giovanni's eyes contrasts Franco's more serious demeanor. They briefly survey my space, perhaps noticing the dishes in the sink or the laundry not in the hamper. A twinge of embarrassment flushes my cheeks, but I shake it off; I now have bigger concerns.

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