Page 2 of Entwined Lies (Entwined #1)

Chrissy gave me a deadpan look. “Oh, so his dick didn’t pass the personality test?”

I groaned. “Can you be normal for one second?”

“Oh, please, I’m just trying to understand! What was wrong with him?”

“He left his shoes on in the living room.”

“How dare he,” she said, gasping in mock horror. “What an absolute animal.”

“It’s a germ thing. Jake plays on the floor.”

“Jake. Is. Eleven. He is not crawling around licking the floorboards.”

“It wasn’t just the shoes,” I huffed. “He was boring, okay? Predictable.”

Chrissy threw her head back. “OH MY GOD. Didn’t you literally say you wanted boring? ‘I just need a predictable guy who won’t ruin my life.’” She mimicked me in a high-pitched voice.

“I thought I did.”

“Well, clearly not. Because the second a guy bores you, you cut him loose, and the second he doesn’t, you freak out and run.”

“That’s not true.”

She gave me a long look. “Babe. Your dating history is one long eviction notice.”

“I just—”

“I love you, but this is bullshit,” she interrupted, holding up a finger. “Josh? Gone for carnations. Ben? Gone for inviting you to a barbecue. Mark? Astrology text.”

“Astrology text was weird.”

“It was quirky. Next thing I know, you’re gonna break up with someone because they own too many forks.”

I huffed, rubbing my temples. “I’m just trying to make smart choices. Jake needs stability.”

“Jake already has stability. He has you.”

I opened my mouth, but she kept going.

“What he doesn’t need is to watch you date men so boring they probably schedule their bathroom breaks.”

I snorted, then quickly covered my mouth.

“See? You know I’m right.”

I shook my head. “This is ridiculous.”

“No, babe. You know what’s ridiculous? Your entire boyfriend selection process. It’s like you look for men who give off suburban dad energy before they even have kids.”

“I do not.”

She arched a brow. “Would you or wouldn’t you describe Kevin as ‘having a reliable stock portfolio’?”

“That is not the point.”

“It is. So promise me something.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

“Just one guy who isn’t—“

“Mind if I join you?” a low voice interrupted her .

We turned, caught off guard by the man standing in front of us. He was tall, with broad shoulders, his fitted gray shirt hinting at lean muscle beneath. Messy blond hair and an easy smile.

Chrissy’s lips curled into a grin as she leaned in slightly.

“Hello there. You are?”

He extended his hand. “I’m Paul. You looked like you were having more fun than anyone else here. Thought I’d see what your secret is.”

She took his hand, shaking it with mock formality. “Chrissy. And this is my partner in crime, Izzy.” She shot me a wink before turning back to him. “No secret. We’re just that good.”

Paul’s gaze flicked to me, his smile deepening. “Is that true? Or is she just the PR team?”

The corner of my lips tugged upward. “She’s mostly the PR team.”

“Mostly, huh?” His laugh was low, relaxed, the sound cutting through the noise around us.

Chrissy shot me a knowing look. “Well, I’m doing the whole ‘meet everyone’ thing. You two talk. I’ll be back.”

She disappeared before I could protest, leaving me alone with him.

Paul slid in beside me. There was something about him—easy to talk to, but it put me on edge. He was too sweet, too smooth. Like he’d done this a hundred times before and perfected the act. Yet, the more we talked, the easier it became to believe everything he said.

I seriously needed to slow down, because by the time he went to grab another round, my caution had left the building and taking him home seemed like a good idea.

Paul returned with two glasses, his easy smile perfectly intact.

I nearly dropped mine as I took it from him. Laughing under my breath, I set it down.

After checking his watch, he glanced at my untouched drink

“Come on. Let’s dance.”

He pulled me toward the dance floor.

His laugh was warm and contagious, and I giggled as my steps became less precise and more carefree. I felt warm and loose, the music pulsing around me like a second heartbeat. But a couple of songs in, I was breathless and flushed.

“I need a break,” I said, tugging him as I stumbled slightly.

He handed me my drink before I could sit down. His eyes flicked to his watch again, his mouth pressed into a line. It was gone in an instant, but this time, something about his charming smile felt hollow.

I raised the glass to my lips. But before I could take a sip, a firm hand stopped me mid-motion.

“Enough for tonight.”

I jumped, nearly spilling my drink. My eyes followed the arm to its owner—sleeves rolled to the elbows, a black button-down pulled across a solid chest. My gaze drifted upward, slower than it should’ve. Sharp jaw. Blue eyes. Tousled brown hair. Definitely trouble.

God, the things I could do to him.

Then, my brain kicked in like a late-to-the-party buzzkill.

Luca Abruzzo.

The devil in designer clothing.

Also, the head of the Italian mafia in Florida. A man whose name sent shivers down the spine of even the toughest souls. The one who haunted my nightmares… and, annoyingly, a few of my better fantasies.

Luca’s grip was firm, holding me hostage as he took the drink from my hand and put it on the table without breaking eye contact.

Damn, those eyes…

I swallowed hard, trying to pull myself together. But panic messes with your instincts in the worst ways. My fight-or-flight response was firing on all cylinders, completely clueless about what was best for me.

“What the hell?” I yanked my hand free. “You don’t get to give me orders.”

“You don’t want that drink.” His gaze was slow, assessing, almost predatory .

It hit like cold water. Does he recognize me?

I crossed my arms. “You don’t decide what I want.”

He took a small step closer, his presence suffocating in the best and worst ways.

“You’re already drunk. And that drink?” he nodded toward my glass. “Let’s just say it wouldn’t end well.”

I should have kept my mouth shut. I didn’t.

“You get off on being in control, don’t you?”

He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. “You seem like someone who loves losing it.”

There was a filthy undertone to it, making my body react in ways I didn’t want it to. It pissed me off.

“You’re a jerk.”

He smirked. “Yet you’re still standing here, talking to me.”

I couldn’t deny it. This was the kind of trouble I should have been sprinting away from.

Yet here I was, standing like a deer in headlights, eyefucking the deadliest man in the city, whose body count was probably off the charts in every sense of the term.

And then, my mind—traitorous as ever—started drifting to dangerous places, places it had no business going.

Like imagining his stubble grazing against my thighs.

I could feel the blush creeping up my neck.

Jesus Christ, get a grip.

Before I could fire back, his attention shifted toward Paul. The poor guy’s face had gone pale, his eyes wide and unblinking, as if he’d just seen death itself.

“Paul… Paul.” Luca tilted his head, his eyes shooting daggers. “You should have known better.”

Paul stiffened, his hands raising defensively. “I-I didn’t know… I swear—”

“Better be safe than sorry,” Luca said, cutting him off .

His smile was all teeth and no warmth, but his tone was as smooth as the expensive liquor behind the bar. He nodded, and a bouncer escorted Paul away from the scene.

Luca took a step closer. “You should get home before you end up in more trouble.”

I inhaled deeply, his scent, spice and cedar, blending in an unfairly perfect way. It wrapped around me, holding me captive, like the universe had decided to bundle up everything irresistible into one person to mess with me.

Just when I thought I couldn’t hold my breath any longer, he pulled back and walked away with a cocky expression. He was gone in seconds, the sea of people closing behind him.

The room exhaled again, the tension easing slightly, or maybe that was just me finally remembering how to breathe.

Chrissy appeared at my side. “What the hell was that? Luca Fucking Abruzzo?”

“No need to panic; he didn’t seem to recognize me.”

At least I hoped he didn’t.

She leaned closer and lowered her voice despite the loud music. “You mean as the Chief Deputy District Attorney or as the woman he fucked twelve years ago?”

I shook my head. Memories of that summer in Sicily flashed through my mind like a bad rom-com. Except in this one, the big twist was finding out that the stranger whose bed you sneaked out of at dawn was a mobster—and that the night led to more than just regret.

“Neither. He was too busy threatening Paul to really look at me.”

“Thank God!” she sighed, her relief almost comical. “But seriously, you need to be careful. Being around him is like playing with fire while wearing gasoline-soaked clothes.”

“I get it, but it’s not easy when he practically owns the whole city.”

I’d done my homework, of course. Checked the owners of the club, scoured every inch of information I could find. I wasn’t stupid enough to waltz into one of the Abruzzo family’s places. But there was nothing tying Luca to this place—at least, not on paper.

Dodging him all these years had been like playing hide-and-seek—a game I’d been pretty damn good at. Until tonight, apparently. Seems my streak just ran out.

“Let’s get out of here before he decides to pop back up for round two,” she said with a serious expression.

I reached for my bag.

I’d already had enough drama for one night. If Luca showed up again, it was only a matter of time before he got a grip on who I was. Better to leave now, while I still had the upper hand—or at least, before he discovered that I didn’t.