Page 47 of Entwined Lies (Entwined #1)

Isabelle

The night dragged on—one long, torturous stretch of tossing and turning. Every time I shut my eyes, it came back—the feel of Luca’s gun at my temple, and that cold, distant look in his eyes that I couldn’t forget.

I lay there, eyes on the ceiling, shadows shifting, time bleeding together in that strange way it does when sleep won’t come.

I always thought I could handle anything. That nothing could shake me. But this? This was different—the ground had been ripped out from under me, and all I could do was fall. The roughness of Luca’s hands told me everything his mouth refused to say—we were over.

I’d gambled everything, thinking I could somehow protect him and Jake, and now, lying here in the dark, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d bet it all on the wrong hand.

Did I push him too far? Did I cross a line I can’t come back from?

The questions didn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. Each one another echo of how badly I’d misjudged all of it. I’d thought I had this under control. Thought I was doing the right thing. But now, with the bug malfunctioning, I didn’t have a clue how to fix any of this or bridge the chasm between us.

Gripping the sheets as my last lifeline, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was it. If I’d finally lost everything .

Morning slipped in like a ghost, quiet and cold, and by then my nerves were chewed down to nothing.

A faint strip of light slipped through the curtains, painting the room in quiet exhaustion. Maybe even the sun was too tired to show up today.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes, but no amount of blinking could shake off the fear that clung to me.

My phone lay on the nightstand, still and silent, but Chrissy’s missed calls haunted me. I couldn’t stop thinking about her and Nina. Everything that could’ve happened, everything I couldn’t stop while I lay here, useless.

My stomach was in knots, my mind spinning with what-ifs I couldn’t shut down. Were they okay? Did I drag them into something they couldn’t escape?

I couldn’t sit in bed any longer, couldn’t hide from whatever was waiting for me out there. I had to know.

My fingers trembled as I grabbed my phone again—like the outcome would magically be different this time.

It wasn’t. No new messages. No missed calls.

Something was off. The silence was too heavy. Too loud.

I stared at Chrissy’s name, thumb frozen, then hit call before I could talk myself out of it. My heart thudded hard as the phone rang—

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then it clicked to voicemail.

Again.

I bit down until the sting turned metallic, but even that didn’t snap me out of it. The panic just kept rising.

“Damn it, Chrissy,” I muttered, voice cracking as I fought the urge to throw the phone across the room .

I clenched my jaw, hit Nina’s number, and held my breath, refusing to let the anxiety win.

She answered before the first ring even finished. Her voice was steady, but the tension bled through every word.

“Nina, I’ve been trying to reach Chrissy. She’s not answering. What’s going on? Are you both okay?”

“We’re fine.” She hesitated, then added, “Enzo’s hardly left Chrissy’s side since yesterday.

Stepped away for a couple of hours, but their men never did.

We figured it’s safer to keep things quiet, wait until she’s alone to call you.

But when I heard Luca was onto you, I was scared out of my mind.

The second he feels betrayed, the safety’s off. ”

“Yeah, I found out the hard way.” I rubbed my temple, that haunting imprint of metal still there. “I haven’t said anything about you or Chrissy. You’re both in the clear.”

Nina was quiet, probably weighing the risks and making a mental list of all the ways this could go horribly wrong.

“It seems to be working,” she finally said, with the kind of confidence I’d fake at a job interview. “Ivanov’s in his car, taking a call from Parker right now. If it holds, we might actually pull this off.”

A flicker of hope sparked in my chest, but it was smothered by the dread that had made a home there.

“If it works, we tell him… But not a second before,” I told her.

“I know. But we’re playing with fire. If Luca finds out before we’re ready, God only knows what he’ll do. He’s already on edge, and if he thinks we betrayed him too—”

“He’ll kill you,” I cut in, my voice breaking around the words. The thought twisted in my gut, made my skin crawl.

Nina exhaled, the weight of her fear bleeding through the phone. “Alright, we’ll keep quiet for now. But the moment we’re sure, I’ll tell Luca myself. It’s the only way to keep this from exploding in our faces. ”

I wanted to tell her to be careful, to somehow pull her out of the mess we were already buried in—but the words wouldn’t leave my mouth.

It had to work. We didn’t have anything else.

I hung up, chest tight, the pressure building fast and unforgiving.

If Luca found out about the bug, he’d put it all together: Chrissy, Nina, everything.

He’d know I couldn’t have done this alone.

We needed that bug to work; it was the only thing that kept this from looking like pure betrayal.

Without it, that’s exactly what it was. And Luca?

He wouldn’t be kind enough to let them walk away.

Hell, I wasn’t even sure why I was still breathing.

When Jake and my mom woke up, I somehow pieced myself back together.

Or at least, put on a half-decent show of pretending I wasn’t falling apart at the seams. My emotions were a disaster zone, but I couldn’t let them see that—especially not Jake.

He needed me to be his rock, even if I was crumbling faster than a cheap cookie.

We sat at the breakfast table, and the familiar morning sounds filled the room as if nothing was wrong.

Jake went on about some dream he had, all wide-eyed and grinning, his voice the only thing keeping me from spiraling.

I plastered on a smile, nodded at the right moments, but my head was a thousand miles away—on Luca, on the mistakes I made, and on the storm creeping closer with every damn second.

My mom watched me over her coffee, her eyes narrowing just a bit. She could always smell bullshit, especially mine. And she wasn’t falling for any of it.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” she asked, tone light, gaze sharp as hell.

Whatever I was about to say, it never came out. The knock at the door stopped everything—loud, clipped, just shy of angry .

Instantly, my body was on high alert.

Mom’s eyes flicked to the clock. Her brow furrowed.

It was too early. Way too early for visitors, unless they had a problem with the fact that I still had a pulse.

Jake cut off mid-sentence, his eyes snapping to me.

“I’ll get it,” I muttered, trying to sound normal, but my voice was shaky and strained.

I stood. Every part of me screamed to grab Jake, grab Mom, and run. But it was probably already too late. I walked to the door anyway, heart pounding in my ears, hands barely steady.

The door swung open, and everything went to hell in a heartbeat.

Men in dark clothes flooded the room, faces covered, eyes dead and empty. They moved like they’d done this too many times to care—fast, clean, terrifying. The kind of violence that makes your blood run cold and your body freeze before your brain catches up.

One of them grabbed me—hard—shoved me like I weighed nothing.

I stumbled, gasping, the floor tilting.

Another one was on me a second later, slamming me into the wall so hard I saw stars.

Jake’s scream cut through the chaos, and for a second, it knocked the air right out of me. I threw myself against the arms pinning me back, panic sharpening into rage—but the guy holding me might as well have been made of stone. He didn’t move. Didn’t even grunt.

“Get the kid,” one said, voice dead calm, thick Russian accent curling sharp around the words.

“Don’t you dare touch him!” I yelled, voice cracking, panic burning straight through me.

I kicked and clawed, wild and frantic, but the one holding me didn’t even blink. Just tightened his hold, calm as ever.

Two of them closed in on Jake and my mom. She was on her feet now, pale but fierce, every ounce of that mom-strength shining through.

“Take me instead, leave the boy alone.” Her voice stayed steady, even with fear tightening every word.

“That’s cute,” one of them mocked, his tone thick with amusement. “But orders are orders.”

They took Jake fast—too fast. No struggle. Lifted him like he was a rag doll.

He screamed, and I felt it in places I didn’t know could hurt.

When our eyes met, everything in me cracked.

This wasn’t some twisted dream. This was hell. And we weren’t waking up.

“No!” I screamed again, louder this time, as they pulled Jake toward the door. “Please—take me! Just leave him alone!”

Mom tried to stop them. Stood right in their way. They shoved her, and she went down hard.

I screamed her name, voice broken, useless. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t reach her. Couldn’t do anything but watch.

The guy’s grip tightened, fingers digging in deep, bruising. His breath hit the side of my face, and then his voice came, sharp and low, right against my ear.

“Keep quiet, or the kid gets it. Got it? You make a sound, the kid dies. Understand?”

I nodded over and over, tears pouring down, the taste of salt and terror in my mouth.

They dragged us outside like luggage and threw us into the back of a van. The door slammed shut, hard. Loud. Too loud. It echoed in the tight space like a gun going off.

And then it was just me, Jake, Mom. And the dark. The kind that closes in and doesn’t let go.

Jake held on tight, sobbing hard enough that his whole body shook. His breathing was wrecked. His tears seeped through my shirt. And his fingers… they were dug in like I was the only thing keeping him from being swallowed whole.

I held him so tight my arms went numb. Didn’t matter. I wasn’t letting him go.

Mom was pressed against my side. Even bruised and silent, she radiated that same strength that always made me think we’d survive the impossible.

She reached for me in the dark, her fingers wrapping around mine firmly. “We’ll get through this.” Her voice shook. “We have to.”

The sound of the engine drowned everything out—her voice, my breath, the whole damn world. Still, my thoughts found Luca. And all I could think about was how everything had gone so horribly, irreversibly wrong.