Page 35 of Entwined Lies (Entwined #1)

Isabelle

I leaned over the sink, holding on like I was trying not to float away. My reflection stared back—cool, polished, unreadable. Like someone else entirely. A perfect lie.

I adjusted my dress with shaky hands, smoothing out invisible wrinkles as though that would somehow steady the chaos clawing at my chest.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Don’t lose it now. You already survived the worst.

I ran a hand over my hair, forcing it into place, because God forbid something as trivial as a stray strand give me away. The queen of perfect control doesn’t crack—not in public, anyway. But here, in the quiet sanctuary of the bathroom, I could feel the edges fraying.

One more deep breath. There is no time to fall apart now.

Thank God for the hell that went loose in Parker’s library. It distracted Luca just enough to make him relax—well, as much as he ever does. And Ivanov showing up right as we walked out? Perfect. Right on time to make everything play out like clockwork.

My breathing steadied, but let’s be real—it was a joke. The adrenaline was still raging inside me, as if it planned on taking up permanent residence. Whatever just went down outside? It was done.

I silently begged whatever higher power was listening to keep the damn bug from being discovered. If they found it, everything would fall apart.

When I stepped back into the ballroom, its low hum wrapped around me with unexpected comfort. Everyone here was blissfully clueless. That alone was enough to steady me.

My eyes landed on Luca almost instantly. He was impossible to miss. Towering over half the room, shoulders squared, glass in hand like some moody prince holding court. He was talking to an older couple, that same controlled, unreadable look on his face.

But then—

His gaze found mine.

And something melted.

Luca didn’t smile, but he didn’t have to. I felt the shift.

He crossed the space between us without breaking eye contact, as if I were the only thing real in the room.

I forced a smile. “Took a while. Sorry. Needed a pause to collect what little chill I had left.”

“No problem,” he said, calm as ever. But the edge in his voice? That was new. He didn’t believe me.

I moved in closer anyway, brushing against him like nothing was wrong, like this wasn’t a slow-motion disaster dressed up in nice clothes.

“Did I miss anything exciting?”

“Not yet. But Ivanov’s been keeping an eye on you.”

The mention of Ivanov made something cold knot deep in my stomach.

I forced my features to remain still, jaw tight, breath steady.

Him looking my way was the last thing I needed—especially with Luca watching.

Of all the scumbags to draw attention from, it had to be Ivanov.

Still, I forced a chuckle, pulling back to meet Luca’s gaze.

“Well, let him watch. As long as he keeps his distance.” My tone was as light as I could fake it, though the idea made my skin crawl .

Luca studied my face for a moment, eyes narrowed just slightly.

I didn’t let anything slip. Just met his gaze with the calm, composed look he expected to see.

Finally, he gave a small nod, seemingly satisfied, at least for now.

“We should mingle before someone realizes we don’t fit the scene,” he muttered, his forced smile barely masking the exhaustion of playing pretend.

We melted back into the crowd like nothing had happened. I mirrored the smiles around me, let the rhythm of it all carry me—conversation that meant nothing, laughter that echoed too clean.

Ivanov’s table was not far from ours. His sleazy gaze kept finding me. Every time, it lingered just a second too long.

Keeping my cool, I shut him out completely. Eyes forward. Shoulders relaxed. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t look. Just kept my posture perfect, my tone pleasant, my smile thin and practiced. I played it like a closing argument: sharp and convincing enough to fool even me.

But under the table, my fingers curled tight in my lap as I waited for this damn dinner to end.

? ? ?

Luca’s hand didn’t leave my back as we walked out, guiding me through a hallway until we stepped into the night.

Enzo waited beside the running car, the open door like punctuation on the scene.

Relief washed over me—finally, it was over. No more forced smiles, no more pretending I didn’t want to punch half the people in that room.

But it was short-lived.

That smirk on Enzo’s face? Yeah. He’d heard.

Crystal clear .

Because why the hell wouldn’t Luca’s comm be live while I was on my knees, giving him a blowjob that probably deserved an award, considering the situation?

Every groan, every filthy command Luca gave—broadcast straight into Enzo’s ear. And everyone else’s too.

But let’s be honest: it’s Enzo’s smirk that was going to haunt me.

He didn’t even pretend not to enjoy it. Just stood there, grinning like he’d been handed the highlight reel of the week.

I sank into the backseat, the leather cool beneath me.

Luca followed—calm, collected, not a damn thing out of place.

Enzo got in without a word and eased us into the street, the hum of the engine filling the silence.

And then I saw it in the rearview mirror.

Enzo’s eyes glinted as if someone had handed him the punchline to a very long joke.

“Please, can we pretend you didn’t hear that?” I groaned, trying to salvage whatever was left of my dignity.

“Yeah, I’ll lock it up with the other.”

Luca turned to me, raising a brow. “The other?”

Shit .

I shot Enzo a look that screamed, “Do not open your mouth,” and for a second, I thought he might actually keep quiet.

There was hope—brief, fragile hope.

But then Luca, the king of persistence, leaned forward. “Enzo. Spill.”

“I really don’t want to, man.”

“Come on.”

Enzo sighed like a man walking to his execution. “Sorry, Isabelle, but… my brother comes first.”

I blinked, completely thrown off balance. “Brother? Last time I checked, you were the world’s grumpiest babysitter, not his brother. ”

Enzo shifted, clearly regretting every life decision that led to this moment. His eyes flicked nervously between us.

Luca’s lips curved into a slight smile. “Yes, brother. We have the same father.”

I stared at him, my brain scrambling to process this bombshell.

Same father?

Luca leaned in slightly, his expression became serious. “But you need to keep that to yourself. Even the old man doesn’t know we figured it out.”

Okay—what?

I blinked again as if that would help make sense of it. But it didn’t.

“The old man kept it from all of us,” Luca continued. “And made damn sure Enzo knew his place. Always on the outside, always reminded he wasn’t equal to Nico or me.”

Enzo gave a sharp, bitter laugh. “Oh, he didn’t just remind me. He made it his personal mission. The little comments, the jobs no one else wanted, the looks. He wanted to make it crystal clear—I wasn’t family.”

“He thought keeping Enzo in line would keep his secret buried. Keep my mother from figuring it out. But he underestimated how much we’d notice.”

“And your mom—” I started, but Luca cut me off.

“She raised Enzo after his parents died because she loved him, because he was her best friend’s son. Mom ignored it. Even when it was staring her in the face.”

“She was the kindest person I ever knew. And she picked denial because the truth would’ve crushed her,” Enzo added, his voice quieter now. “I think she would’ve loved me as her own anyway, but this way, she didn’t have to love me with the weight of knowing the truth.”

“And you’ve kept this to yourselves?” I asked, glancing from one to the other .

“It’s been our secret for a long time. No one else knows—just Nico, Enzo, me, and now you. And it has to stay that way.”

I stared at him, trying to make sense of it. This wasn’t some game or power play. No. You don’t spill secrets this big, this messy, unless you’re serious. Dead serious.

My heart stuttered for a second.

This is Luca trusting me. Luca—who keeps the whole world at arm’s length—is handing me parts of himself, one piece at a time.

I wanted to say something, but the words died in my throat. What the hell could I even say? Trust wasn’t exactly his default setting, and yet… here he was, dropping family skeletons like it was some casual Tuesday conversation.

Luca shrugged off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and yanked off his tie. He sank into his seat and looked at Enzo. “Now, back to the topic… Spill.”

Enzo gave a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Fine. Neither Isabelle nor Chrissy had a filter before she moved in. Let’s just say, I got an earful about your… capabilities.”

Luca’s lips pulled into that slow, crooked smile that always hit too hard, no matter how much I tried to play it cool. His amusement was obvious, written in every line of his face. But the way he watched me? That wasn’t just for fun. He was planning something.

“Is that so? You’ve made me curious, Siren. Care to elaborate, or should I ask my brother?”

Fuck.

My stomach curled in on itself, caught somewhere between “seriously?” and “I will murder you”.

And Enzo? Stone silent. But his eyes screamed, “Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh”.

I coughed, smoothed my tone, and tried to sound chill. “How about neither? ”

Luca’s satisfied grin deepened and he shifted, his arm resting lazily on the back of my seat.

“Come on, I’d prefer hearing it from you.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

My heart was pounding, my cheeks burning. Of course, he’d prefer hearing it from me. He was Luca. Who never let anything go until he’d wrung out every ounce of discomfort.

“We drank. Talked too much. That’s it,” I said, hoping the clipped delivery would shut it down fast.

I caught Enzo’s eyes again and shot him a look that said, “Don’t you dare”.

The car rolled to a stop in front of Luca’s house. I took a breath and stepped out like my dignity hadn’t just been run over on the way here.

Luca led me to the kitchen and poured two drinks—wine for me, whiskey for himself.

Like a gentleman. Like he wasn’t about to trap me in a conversation I had no way out of.