~Antonio
Walking toward the room, my mind buzzed with frustration. Giovanni was a walking, breathing catastrophe, and I was his unfortunate cleanup crew. Pretending to be Giovanni was hard enough; now I had to deal with his impromptu return, Vivian’s unwanted attention, and the ever-present risk of Tiara discovering the truth.
I walked to the door to the room, running a hand through my hair. I had to switch back to being Antonio immediately. Everything Giovanni had touched—his cologne, his ridiculous leather wristbands—had to go. But then, like a slap to the face, I remembered where my clothes were.
The same room where Tiara was sleeping.
“Damn it,” I muttered, leaning against the wall. What if she was awake? What if Giovanni had come to her before now?
“No,” I reasoned, “when
