Page 50 of Entwined Lies (Entwined #1)

Luca

“We’re almost there,” Enzo said, his voice cutting through the suffocating tension.

“Time to end this.” The words hissed out between my clenched teeth.

But if I were being honest with myself? This wouldn’t end here.

This wasn’t just about saving them—it was about getting them back, about holding on to the one thing that made life feel like it wasn’t already over.

I’d given up on anything more than violence and emptiness a long time ago, accepted that this world didn’t have anything else for me.

But Isabelle and Jake—they gave me a glimpse of something I thought I’d never have.

And now? Now I couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to them.

In the back of my mind, Chrissy’s call lingered like a bad taste.

I told her to reach out to their FBI contacts—a desperate move that may get us all nailed to the wall.

It screamed just how deep in the shit we were.

The feds showing up wouldn’t be pretty. They’d blow the whole thing apart, send it spinning out of our hands in a heartbeat.

But when you’re drowning, you reach for the lifeline. Even if it might strangle you.

Still… what if it didn’t matter? What if we were too fucking late?

The tires screeched as we took a sharp turn, the sound slicing through the still, empty streets. The abandoned factory wasn’t far now, and with every second, that gnawing fear grew .

“Luca.” Enzo’s voice snapped me out of the spiral in my head. “Focus. We’re getting them back. We’ll make them pay.”

I nodded, pushing everything else down, shoving it into the pit where I kept all the shit I didn’t have time to deal with.

“Let’s do this,” I said, forcing the words out. Because if I fall apart now, we’re all screwed.

The building was right in front of me now—dark, massive, swallowing whatever light touched it.

Too quiet. That kind of quiet that doesn’t mean calm. It means danger.

I parked, but I didn’t move. My hands stayed clenched on the wheel long after the engine cut out. For a split second, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t bring myself to get out and face whatever waited inside.

Enzo nudged me. “Luca, we need to move. Now.”

I shoved the door open. The heat hit me hard, as if it had something to prove. Everything else dropped away—the noise, the night, everything that wasn’t the burn in my chest. Each step narrowed the world. Just the sound of my boots and the rage that kept me moving.

Enzo threw up a hand.

We stopped.

He nodded toward the entrance.

Two men. Armed. Locked in place. Scanning the dark like they could smell us. Ivanov’s goons, no doubt.

Nina moved like smoke, fading into the dark without a word. She didn’t make noise. She made ghosts.

The first guy didn’t even see it coming. One silent step, one sharp strike to the throat—clean, fast. He gurgled, hands flying to his neck, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe it was happening.

The second barely turned his head before Nina was on him. A flick of her wrist—too fast to track—and his throat opened. He made this sick sound—his own blood was choking him out. He hit the ground next to his buddy, dead before he even realized it was the end.

Nina reappeared from the shadows, eyes sharp, not a damn thing out of place.

“We’re clear,” she whispered, barely out of breath.

I gave her a quick nod—respect for later, bloodshed now.

With the guards down, we moved toward the door. My whole body was a live wire, one wrong move away from snapping.

One of our guys pushed forward, motioning to us. The second the door creaked open, we surged forward.

Guns up. Every muscle locked and ready.

Inside was dim, the corners swallowed in black. A couple of bulbs buzzed overhead, but barely.

“Nina,” one of the SEALs muttered. “You lead.”

She nodded once, scanning the room as we moved deeper into the gut of the place.

The silence was wrong. It stuck to your skin.

With each turn, the air felt colder, and I couldn’t tell if it was the building or me.

Ahead, something shifted. Just a whisper of movement, a shadow slipping out of place. I raised my gun, every instinct screaming to fire.

Nina stopped short, throwing a hand up. We halted behind her.

Didn’t breathe. Just listened.

At first, nothing but my heartbeat. Then—voices. Muffled. Close enough to matter.

Nina gave the signal, and we moved together, careful with every step. The voices grew sharper, and under them came the sound that made my stomach drop—someone was crying. Fuck.

We hit the end of the corridor.

Big metal door. Voices just beyond it.

Enzo glanced at me, waiting for the green light .

Anger burned under my ribs. Fear right there beside it.

“On three,” I whispered, raising my hand. One… two…

Enzo blew the door open like a wrecking ball, and we moved in, guns up, clearing corners by instinct.

I was ready to put someone in the ground. But then I saw her.

Isabelle.

She was sitting in the middle of the room, slouched like she couldn’t hold her own weight. And standing over her, gun pointed directly at her head, was Ivanov.

Isabelle’s cheeks were soaked. Her eyes—God, her eyes looked like she’d been crying for days. Her mom and Jake were in the corner, wrapped around each other, crying as Ivanov’s men held them at gunpoint.

“Drop your weapons,” Ivanov said, voice like a goddamn glacier. “Or I’ll put a bullet in her skull.”

Everything stopped.

Not just the noise—everything.

Air. Time. My goddamn heartbeat.

Isabelle was trembling, breath hitching, and Jake—Jesus, he was trying to stay quiet but failing. That sound? It went straight through me.

I was on the edge. Muscles locked. Vision tunneling. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t. One twitch. One misstep. That’s all it would take. And they’d be gone. Both of them.

My grip loosened, gun lowering inch by inch until it pointed at the ground.

Enzo didn’t move at first—his jaw tight, eyes flicking between me and Ivanov like he was waiting for someone to flinch. But he gave in.

One by one, the others followed. The sound of steel hitting concrete echoed like gunshots in the silence.

Ivanov’s lips twisted into a smirk, his grip tightening on the gun. “ You came to save them. How noble. But it changes nothing.”

Isabelle sobbed. Our eyes locked for half a second—just long enough to see the fear in hers. That sharp inhale, like she thought this was it.

Not if I have anything to say about it.

“I’m here,” I said. No shaking, no hesitation, even though my pulse was chaotic. “So let’s cut the shit. What do you want?”

Ivanov laughed, and it was the kind of laugh that made your spine itch. “What I want? It’s simple, really. I want to watch you suffer, Luca. I want to see you lose everything, just like I did.”

My jaw clenched so hard it ached. Brain working fast, too fast—there had to be a way out.

Ivanov’s phone rang.

He held up one hand, silencing the room.

Seriously? Now?

“Speak,” he snapped, face going colder with every word.

I didn’t blink. Just kept my eyes on him. One slip. One twitch. That’s all I needed.

His expression twisted mid-call. Eyes narrowing. Whatever he just heard? It pissed him off.

He ended the call abruptly and looked at me as if he could burn holes through my skull.

“Looks like your sweet little wife has a bite. I underestimated her.” He leaned in, voice dropping. “But don’t worry—I’ll handle her. Personally.”

Before I could react, Ivanov gave a nod, and all hell broke loose.

“Get down!” I shouted and hit the ground hard, rolling for cover as bullets screamed through the air.

My team dove for their guns, grabbing them just as the firefight exploded. We ducked behind whatever we could find—crates, pillars, anything that’d keep us breathing .

This isn’t a fight anymore—it is a full-blown war zone. And just as the thought registered, I heard it—a sharp, gut-wrenching scream that cut through the madness.

I turned, instinctively scanning for the source, and there he was—one of my men had been shot. Blood spilled out from under him, thick and fast, soaking into the floor. His fingers twitched near the trigger—but he was already gone.

I rolled behind the crates, my back scraping against the rough edges. I fired and hit the mark.

The bastard crumpled. But I barely had time to blink before a new wave of bullets slammed into the crates.

Then a bullet hit—sharp, brutal, right to the chest. I stumbled back, the impact knocking the air out of me. The vest caught it, but damn if it didn’t hurt like a bitch. The pain radiated through my chest, a sharp reminder that, vest or not, taking a bullet always sucks.

I shook off the daze, my chest still throbbing, and forced myself to move. I still had plenty of targets left to deal with, and whining wasn’t going to get it done.

Across the room, Enzo and Nina ducked behind cover, weapons in hand, taking down Ivanov’s men one by one with deadly precision. I could see it in their eyes—the same relentless drive that had carried us this far. This wasn’t just another job. This was the endgame. All or nothing.

Ivanov? Didn’t even flinch as he dragged Isabelle and Jake toward a side door.

Panic twisted in my chest, sharp and fast—but it wasn’t blind.

I knew exactly what kind of monster we were dealing with.

While Reid had worked to track down Isabelle and Jake, I’d kept myself busy.

I dug into Ivanov’s past again, but this time with fresh eyes.

I’d always known the basics—his rise through the ranks, the blood on his hands, the twisted shit he’d done to secure his place at the top.

But knowing how deep his vendetta ran against my father, every piece of information took on a different weight.

He was dangerous, not because he had an army or money—hell, most of the bastards we went up against had those things.

No, Ivanov was a different breed of psychopath.

He was dangerous because he had nothing to lose.

His family? Dead. His empire? In shambles.

All he had left was vengeance. And when a man’s got nothing to lose, that’s when you have to worry.

Because nothing’s more dangerous than someone with no future and no fear.

And he wanted to erase my father’s legacy, piece by bloody piece.

I surged forward, fighting through the bodies and the hail of gunfire, but it was like moving through mud—slow, heavy, impossible. The seconds dragged, stretching out as I clawed my way toward them.

But before I could stop it, they were gone.