Page 53 of Entwined Lies (Entwined #1)

Isabelle

I clutched the phone, my finger hovering over the screen, trembling just enough to piss me off.

I’d closed that chapter years ago, swearing I’d never look back.

But here I was, about to tear the book open.

Because I had no other choice. I needed help.

And not just from anyone. I needed Daniel Callahan.

The man who could either save or bury Luca with one well-placed phone call.

The man who was once family, but now just stood in the shadow of everything that had gone wrong.

Danny had been my father’s best friend back when life was simple—before everything spiraled into the abyss. To me, he was like an uncle, the kind of man a kid trusted without question. But then my father died, and trust became a luxury I couldn’t afford.

Something about the way things unfolded after Dad’s death never sat right with me.

How Antonio Abruzzo slipped through the cracks.

How the case grew cold despite Danny having the connections to push harder.

How he was too present in the aftermath, always there, always helping—like he had something to make up for.

I tried to shake it off and believe that Danny was only looking out for us.

But the doubt festered, turned rotten, twisted every one of his well-meaning gestures into something darker.

Guilt, maybe. Or worse, manipulation. So I cut him out.

Every call. Every message. Every olive branch he extended—I threw it right back in his face .

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he really was just trying to be there. But the doubt was too much to live with. And I’d already lost too much to let it slide.

And yet, here I was, standing in front of the same door I swore I’d never open again—hand on the handle, ready to turn. Desperation does that to you, I guess. It pushes you to make deals with the very devils you’ve spent years running from.

Because Danny wasn’t just anyone. He was the FBI’s Executive Assistant Director now. The one person with enough power to get Luca out of this mess.

If he wanted to. If I could get him to listen.

It was barely nine in the morning. Too damn early for this. My heart thundered in my chest as I finally hit the call button. Every ring a countdown to something I wouldn’t be able to take back.

The line clicked, and his voice came through, warm, familiar, and far too close to a past I didn’t want to revisit.

“Giggles?” His voice carried that same warmth I remembered from years ago.

My jaw tightened, the nickname scraping against me like sandpaper.

Danny and his wife were the only ones who’d called me that.

They used to think it was cute—the way I laughed at everything.

But there was nothing cute about this. Not now.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I forced out.

The line held quiet for a beat.

“I wasn’t sure you’d ever call. You okay?” The easy tone was gone—what came through was worry wrapped in confusion.

My throat closed up. I wanted to end it. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. This wasn’t about old wounds or unresolved grudges. This was about survival—Luca’s survival. If swallowing my pride was the price, I’d pay it. Even if it tasted like blood.

“I need your help,” I said, the words twisting in my gut before they even reached my lips .

It felt like betrayal. But I pushed through.

“Luca Abruzzo’s been arrested. He’s valuable to the prosecution, and I need to get him a deal.”

Danny didn’t speak right away. Just breathed out slow, as if he were holding the whole damn history of us in his chest. I could almost picture him running a hand through his graying hair as he processed what I was asking him to do.

“You’re family. Always were. That hasn’t changed,” he said, his voice softening. “But what you’re asking… If anyone finds out I’m pulling strings for Luca Abruzzo because of his wife—”

I froze. “How do you know?”

Danny let out a low chuckle. “Come on. You know me better than that.”

I swallowed, my throat tight. Of course, he knew.

Danny didn’t ask questions; he collected answers.

For as long as I could remember, he’d had his eyes on the people in my orbit.

Friends. Boyfriends. Even the kids who used to make my life hell.

He never said anything outright. But he made sure they understood one thing: they wouldn’t get away with hurting me.

“After your dad… well, I couldn’t just walk away. Not completely. And then you got involved with Luca, and I had to make sure you were safe.”

A sharp laugh escaped before I could stop it. “Safe? You think keeping tabs on me made me safe?”

Danny sighed. “Giggles, I know you think he’s—” He hesitated. “I know what he is. Luca Abruzzo is not the kind of man you build a future with.”

“No?” I shot back. “Because that man—the one you don’t think is right for me? He saved my life. He saved Jake and Mom’s lives.”

Silence.

The kind that stretched too long. I almost thought he was done. That this was where he walked away.

He sighed again.

When he finally spoke, his voice was different. Lower. Resigned.

“Goddamn it, Isabelle… What do you need?”

The relief that washed over me was almost overwhelming, but I kept my composure.

“I need a deal. For Luca. Immunity. He’s got information about Parker, the Russians… everything. But he won’t testify unless he knows he’s protected. Unless his family and his associates are protected.”

“You’re asking for a lot. Immunity… If I pull this favor, a lot more people than you think will take notice. Luca’s not some small-time criminal. You know this could end badly for me, right? This is the kind of thing that ends careers.”

“If I had another option, I’d take it. But I don’t have anyone else to turn to.”

He was quiet. Probably already regretting it.

“Fine. I’ll make some calls. No promises. Talk soon,” he said, and the line was gone.

I stared at the phone, my pulse still racing. Danny knew what this could cost him—and he was still stepping in. Not for my dad. Not because he felt like he owed anyone anything. He was doing it for me.

He couldn’t save Dad. But maybe—just maybe—he could save Luca. And God, I hoped I hadn’t just screwed everything up again.

When my phone rang, time seemed to stop. I stared at it like it might bite, and when I saw Danny’s name, everything in me went still. No breath. No movement. Heart pounding. Mouth dry.

With trembling hands, I answered, forcing my voice steady.

“Giggles. It seems you’ve got a hell of a stroke of luck.

The Attorney General is in his vacation home in Clermont.

I’ve secured a meeting for you at three this afternoon and gave him a heads-up.

If the deal’s legally tenable, he’s willing to consider it.

He hates it when someone is late, so be there early.

I’ll send you the address. Also, a short visitation for Luca is secured for you for noon. ”

“I… I owe you so much.”

“There’s no debt here. We’ve had our silence, sure—but none of that changed what you mean to me. You’re still like a daughter to me.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, the words inadequate for the weight of what he’d just done for me.

He hesitated. Maybe he wanted to say more, but then all I heard was, “Take care. I’ll be in touch.”

I stared at the phone. Relief washed over me, but it was only one step, a crack in the door. And I had to see Luca, make him understand, and somehow get him to accept it.

Guess I picked the right damn career after all. All those long nights of studying, the endless hours at the DA’s office, and every battle I’d fought in court—they were about to pay off, even if I had to use it for reasons I never imagined.

I rushed to the closet, filled with dresses Luca had picked for me. My eyes landed on a bold red one that dared me to wear it.

It slipped on easily, its fabric hugging me like armor. Nude heels, adding an extra inch of height, completed the look. Not that I needed the height, but I welcomed every bit of confidence right now.

I stood in front of the mirror, palms pressing down the sleek red fabric. The dress was appropriate, but it still made a statement. Because influence wasn’t just about arguments and evidence—it was about presence.

My reflection stared back. My posture shifted before I realized it. Chin up. Shoulders locked into place. That determination came next—familiar, grounding. The fire that never failed me when it was time to stand and fight .

Only this time, the fight wasn’t about winning.

It was about Luca. About Jake. About us.

An hour passed in a blur, all nerves and overthinking, my brain racing in circles I couldn’t slow down.

Thank God for my mom—and her omelet.

Because even when your world is unraveling and you’re barely holding it together, your kid still needs breakfast.

Jake’s voice filled the kitchen, nonstop chatter that barely pierced the static in my head.

I smiled. Nodded at the right times. But the minutes dragged, each one heavier than the last.

Cracking eggs and laughing with Jake, Mom moved through Luca’s kitchen like it was normal. She was holding us together like she always did. But none of this felt real.

The second I dropped into the driver’s seat, the weight in my chest got worse.

I didn’t know if he’d listen. Maybe he wouldn’t.

Maybe it didn’t matter. But I had to try.

I owed him that much. Because no matter how this ended, I couldn’t stomach the thought of him sitting in that cell, thinking I didn’t care.

That I’d walked away like it meant nothing. It couldn’t be further from the truth.

He’ll probably shut me down.

I swallowed hard, slammed the gear into reverse, and backed out.

The drive blurred, my mind anywhere but on the road. Each mile made my stomach sink deeper, my pulse ticking higher the closer I got.

What the hell am I even going to say?

How do you explain putting the man you love in this position? How do you stand in front of him and ask for trust when your betrayal was the reason he lost it ?

My gut was a mess by the time I reached the detention center. The justice system wasn’t built for people like Luca to walk free—and there was a reason for that. But as I reached the door, I knew one thing: I was about to fight like hell to make sure he did.

I followed the guards, eyes straight ahead, down a hallway that smelled like bleach and tension. Their shoes made soft, forgettable squeaks. Mine didn’t—my heels hit the floor like punctuation, each step louder than the last.

The door to the visitation room opened, and an agent stepped out. His face was clean and unreadable, the kind of blank expression that said nothing.

“You must be Mrs. Abruzzo. Ten minutes. No cameras.”

I nodded stiffly. My voice would’ve betrayed everything I was trying to hide.

The door creaked open, and there he was. Sitting there, hands cuffed in front of him. Looking every bit like the man I’d fallen for, and every bit the criminal the world saw him as.

Luca’s eyes locked onto mine, widening for a brief second before narrowing. His expression? I couldn’t read it. He was wearing that mask he used when he didn’t want anyone to know what he was thinking.

The door shut behind me with a click that seemed to echo for miles. This was it. The moment I’d been dreading, hoping for, and replaying in my mind since the second they took him away.