Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

TIFFANY

F or all that is holy!

What lay before me was nothing short of extraordinary. Their so-called "cabin" loomed majestically, two stories of craftsman-style architecture rising above the pristine blanket of snow. Someone took the time to carve an entrance adorned with intricately fashioned stonework that guided my gaze to a sturdy wooden door, its exquisite wrought-iron handle whispering promises of the warmth that awaited. Expansive windows graced the facade, filtering soft winter light into the cozy interior, teasing my curiosity with glimpses of what lay beyond. The inviting porch curled around the cabin like an open embrace, beckoning me to step inside. At the same time, a mixture of excitement and nerves surged through me at the thought of being confined with the enigmatic Nico, next-in-line boss for the Bruno family and his two best friends.

I stopped at the threshold. What am I doing? Have I made a terrible mistake? Fear and uncertainty gripped my heart, constricting it until I couldn't inhale.

I remembered the meeting with Don Lorenzo and my decision - it felt right, defying my father. Yet, the reality of my agreement sank in, and I couldn't shake the feeling of trading one prison for another. I had freed myself from my father's control only to step into the grasp of Nico Sansone and his men. Had I considered what this month would entail?

Stepping into the cabin, I felt warmth enveloping me, a comforting contrast to the biting cold I had left behind. I glanced back at the storm outside; suddenly, heavy snowfall obscured the world beyond the window.

"Damn, it picked up out there," Franco muttered, shaking the snow from his jacket as he walked in behind me, dropping his bags at the door.

Nico leaned against the door; his eyes locked on the whirling white storm outside. I'm glad we left when we did.

Giovanni, still brushing snowflakes from his dark hair, shrugged. "A little snow never hurts anyone. Besides, it adds to the ambiance, right? A perfect night for secrets and stories," he said with a sly smile.

I walked around the entrance hall, where the high ceilings showcased exposed wooden beams. The faint scent of cedar enveloped me, connecting me to the beauty of nature. With a low whistle of awe, I took in the grand stone fireplace that occupied one wall. Its hearth was spacious enough to hold a small family of logs waiting to be ignited on cool nights.

As Franco walked over to the fireplace, I couldn't help but admire how he moved. He knelt, his legs strong and defined, and as he bent forward to light the logs, I found my gaze lingering on his firm butt. The way he worked, focusing intently as he struck the match and brought the fire to life, was captivating.

I eagerly awaited those nimble fingers, coaxing my body to life. Would he love gently, cherishing every moment, or passionately take what he desired? The thought thrilled me, adding to the warmth of the flames.

I had to tear my gaze away from Franco before he sensed my thoughts and redirected my attention to the heart of the home: the expansive chef's kitchen. I realized this one room was so large that my entire loft in NYC would practically fit inside, creating a culinary paradise that made me smile. The polished granite countertops shone under the warm light, and a massive island sat gloriously at the center, perfect for gatherings. The top-of-the-line appliances sparkled like treasures, ready for some culinary magic.

At that moment, I realized a pot was simmering on the stove, emitting a tempting soup scent in the air. I stepped closer, intrigued. "What's cooking over there?" I asked, glancing over at Giovanni, who leaned casually against the counter.

"The housekeeper stocked everything up before she left," he replied with a grin. "Hope you're feeling inspired."

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at Nico and Franco, who exchanged knowing looks. "What about dinner? Are we doing this together?"

Franco chuckled, "Well, that depends. We were hoping you'd take the lead in the kitchen. You handle the food, and we'll handle everything else."

I couldn't help but laugh. "So, you're saying you want me to do all the hard work?"

Nico shrugged playfully. "Someone's got to ensure we eat well during our stay." I rolled my eyes but sensed a warmth spreading within me.

"It looks amazing. Margo outdid herself again. I can't wait to taste you. I mean, your cooking," Franco said, watching eagerly as I poured the soup.

Nico smirked, taking his bowl from me. "We are all waiting to see what you serve for us." It is only time that will determine your appreciation for what I offer.

"Yeah, yeah. But remember, this soup is the beginning of your service."

As we transitioned into the living room to eat, the open-concept layout created a sense of seamlessness, effortlessly flowing from the kitchen to the inviting space beyond.

"Don't push your luck," I laughed as I settled on the sofa, pulling my feet under me and enjoying the playful banter. The plush sofas were arranged around the crackling fireplace, their inviting warmth tempting me to sink into their embrace. Natural light streamed through the oversized windows, illuminating the intensifying blizzard and making it challenging to spot the recently landed helicopter. I lifted a spoonful to my lips, but my gaze drifted toward the front door.

That's when I noticed it—a familiar sight that twisted something in my stomach. My bags were leaning against the wall next to the guys' gear, casually waiting as if they belonged there. But they didn't belong here.

I didn't have the chance to pack anything.

How did my bags get here? The realization hit me like a sudden jolt of cold. I wouldn't say I liked believing being a predetermined certainty, a puzzle piece they had already concluded would seamlessly integrate into their strategy.

I look at Nico, his dark gray eyes filled with a mixture of concern and something deeper, something that made my heart race. Franco and Giovanni exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. They appeared perfectly in tune with one another. Can I depend on them to explore this new world together? "How did my bag get here? Was I a foregone conclusion?" I asked, trying not to lose my temper.

Setting his bowl on the large coffee table, Nico looked straight at me, his dark grey eyes piercing through the dim light of the cabin. A chill ran down my spine—was it fear or desire? I couldn't tell anymore.

"We discussed this outside," he said, his voice steady and commanding. "The matter has been settled. We planned this trip, and you were always integral to it." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "So, yes, I packed your bags while you were at my father's this morning. It was already settled."

Panic flared inside me. "Nico, I can't-" I began, my heart racing.

His gaze intensified, unwavering. "Do you want to back out?"

I felt the walls closing in, the reality of the situation hitting me like a wave. "I... I don't know if this is what I want," I stammered, trembling. "I didn't pack for this."

He leaned forward slightly, his expression shifting to one of both concern and frustration. "Tiffany, I understand your hesitation. But you need to trust us. We've made this choice together, and backing out now would complicate things further."

I shook my head, trying to gather my resolve. "But I didn't sign up for any of this! You can't make decisions for me."

Nico's expression hardened, and in that instant, the tension shifted. "No one is forcing you, Tiffany. But it is settled. We're here now, and backing out would mean turning your back on an opportunity to break free from your past." He paused, and the weight of his words hung in the air. "I'm not asking you to follow blindly. I need you to commit. Can you do that?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. I found myself caught between the excitement of the unfamiliar and the anxiety of relinquishing control over my own choices.

Seeing my hesitation, Nico sighed, the sharpness in his eyes softening slightly. "Think about it. What message does your departure send about your true intentions? We can give you a chance to start fresh. But you have to decide, and you have to decide now."

His voice's finality left no room for doubt.

I took a trembling breath, aware of the weight of the moment. "No, I can't do this," I finally said, steeling myself. "I can't just forget everything and jump into… w… whatever this is."

Nico finally leaned back; the conversation seemingly closed. "Then it's settled," he said, his tone now matters of fact. The cabin's warmth felt distant, surrounded by finality.

"How about we take this to the hot tub?" Franco suggested, trying to lighten the mood with a mischievous smile. Giovanni shrugged, looking equally intrigued, his eyes dancing with excitement.

The snowstorm raged outside, the wind howling against the cabin, creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere within. The idea made my stomach flip. What would transpire in the heated, bubbling water?

I quickly glanced between them, experiencing a mix of excitement and anxiety. I inquired, "What occurs in the hot tub?" I tried to sound playful.

Nico's gaze flicked to me, a playful grin spreading. "I could think of a reason or two to join." Are we all going to brave the storm?"

Giovanni leaned in closer, his voice teasing. "I think it'll be one memorable afternoon. What do you say, Tiffany? Are you down to get a little wild?"

My pulse quickened at the suggestion. "Well, maybe I am," I replied, injecting a sense of daring into my tone, hiding the nervousness in my stomach.

Franco stepped closer, his voice low, almost a whisper. "Let's find out what happens when we give in to the heat against the cold outside." There was an unspoken challenge in his eyes, urging me to embrace whatever this day had in store. He leaned down and held out his hand.

I took a deep breath and grabbed it. Franco pulled me up, and we moved to the back porch. The world outside had transformed into a winter wonderland. The frosty air hit my skin, and a shiver of thrill mixed with apprehension ran through me.

Nico was the first to shed his clothing, the fabric slipping away to reveal skin bronzed by the sun and marked by the trials he faced. Each piece of clothing that fell was a barrier dropping, stripping away the persona of the eldest son to reveal the man beneath. Franco soon followed, shedding his shirt with a playful flair, his laughter echoing in the crisp air as the fabric danced away, leaving his toned figure on display. Giovanni was last, his movements fluid and captivating, like a quiet storm, as he joined the others in the inviting hot tub.

The steam from the hot tub swirled around us; the men turned their attention to me, their eyes filled with admiration and something more profound.

The tension pulsed in the snowy air, a delicate balance of anticipation and acceptance. As I considered removing my clothes before them, I sensed their admiration enveloping me like a shield, encouraging me to embrace my beauty alongside theirs.

Franco stepped closer, the steam framing his features as he reached for my hand, his fingertips grazing my wrist gently. "There's an art to vulnerability," he said softly, his gaze intent. "Being naked is not about the body; it's about being unguarded, and you embody that."

We all slid into the bubbling water, the intense heat enveloping me like a warm embrace. It felt like another world—a cocoon where everything outside was forgotten. I sensed the thickening tension in the air when Franco's leg brushed against mine, and Giovanni's intense and raw gaze on me remained palpable despite the steam.

"Let yourself go, Tiffany," Franco murmured, his voice a rumble that resonated within the warmth. "We're all in this together." My heart raced at his words, an intoxicating mix of anticipation and desire flooding my senses.

"Tiffany, think of this as a way to explore our bond. Let's not hold back," Giovanni added, leaning in closer so the warmth of his body radiated toward me. With his dark hair damp against his forehead, he looked even more alluring in the soft glow of the hanging lights.

Sitting across from me, Nico shifted slightly to make room, his dark eyes locked with mine. "Why don't we make the most of this blizzard?" he suggested, his voice low and enticing. "It's only us and the storm."

The urge to explore beyond limits surged within me. I declared with playful defiance, experiencing the warmth seep into me, sparking a fire I had no desire to quench.

Nico leaned toward me, his intensity palpable. "Chaos can be fun—if you let it," he said, his voice a deep baritone, sending a flutter through me. I couldn't shake how captivating he looked.

Franco took a deep breath, breaking the momentary tension. "So, what if we each shared a secret? Something bold," he suggested, leaning back to observe our reactions.

"Like what? "I responded, sensing the intensity of their stares, pushing me to explore further."

"Something we've never shared before," Gio said thoughtfully. "Something that can make this night a little more, let's say, unforgettable."

The suggestion sparked something inside me, and despite the weather's chill, the hot tub bubbles felt like I was floating amidst flames. "Alright, I'm in," I said, the thrill of vulnerability sending a delightful shiver down my spine.

Nico smirked, leaning closer to me, almost conspiratorially. "You go first, Tiffany. What's your secret?"

The weight of their attention was electrifying. I hesitated briefly before taking a deep breath. "I've always wanted to explore something… adventurous," I confessed, studying each face as they processed my words. "Maybe something like this—being in a hot tub with three guys in the middle of a blizzard."

"Adventurous is a start," Franco said, his voice dripping with teasing intrigue. "I like how you think, Tiffany."

A wave of confidence engulfed me as I reclined against the tub's edge, the water softly lapping around me." I asked, my heart racing with the thrill of the unknown.

"Now it's our turn to keep the ball rolling," Nico said with a devilish grin. "Who's next?"

Franco leaned back against the edge of the hot tub, the steam swirling around him like a cloak. "Alright, I'll bite," he began, a playful glint in his eyes. "I've always had this fantasy about being completely unrestrained. You know, in a wild scenario, I completely release my inhibitions.

"Like being in a crowded place and doing something spontaneous and impulsive. Because I can."

The air was thick with anticipation, and an unspoken agreement passed between us. I looked each of them in the eye—Giovanni with his devil-may-care attitude, Franco's intensity, and Nico's simmering mystery—each one igniting a spark within me.

I felt the thrill coursing through me as they exchanged a knowing look. There was something electric about the three of them; their presence made it hard to breathe, charged with an almost palpable tension.