Page 54 of Entwined Lies (Entwined #1)

Luca

The cuffs were tight. Whoever put them on made sure of it. Not enough to cut off circulation, but enough to remind me that I wasn’t going anywhere. They hadn’t taken them off when they brought me in, and I didn’t ask. Wasn’t in the mood to pretend I gave a shit.

I leaned back in the chair, my hands resting in my lap. At least I wasn’t chained to the table this time.

Each move tugged against my bruised skin. My ribs protested, a slow, dull burn that flared sharper if I breathed too deeply. The doctors at the hospital had said I was lucky. Cracked ribs, no internal bleeding.

Didn’t feel lucky. Didn’t feel much of anything.

The room was gray, stripped of anything human. It was meant to grind you down, to make you lose track of time.

Didn’t matter. I’d already lost track of everything that counted. Except Isabelle and Jake. They’d walked out. I’d seen it. And that was supposed to make this easier.

It didn’t.

The agents had gotten to me early. In the van. Didn’t wait for my lawyer to show up. They spelled it out—cold and clear. No deal. No mercy. Life sentence if I was lucky. Death penalty if I wasn’t. Said it like it was fact, not a threat. And it landed that way, too .

Tom found me later. Not a hair out of place.

Exactly what you’d expect from the lawyer of the mob.

Immaculate three-piece suit, dark and pressed sharp enough to draw blood.

Cufflinks that probably cost more than most people’s cars.

His tie was straight, perfectly knotted, like it hadn’t moved since he put it on that morning.

Tom didn’t ruffle. Didn’t sweat. Didn’t blink when they handed him a client looking down the barrel of a death sentence.

They let him into the hallway as they walked me out of the hospital and handed me over to federal custody.

My ribs were taped, my cuts were stitched, every inch of me treated and logged, because they weren’t stupid. High-profile cases came with rules, and they weren’t about to give Tom anything to work with on the medical side. By the book.

Just like Tom. Except he knew how to bend the book until it screamed.

He walked toward me with an unhurried pace, his shoes swishing on the tile, his expression unreadable. The feds on either side of me might as well have been statues for all the attention he paid them.

He stopped in front of me, adjusted the cuff of his shirt like we were standing in his office and about to discuss a business deal.

He leaned in. Close, but not too close. Nothing inappropriate. Nothing they could use.

Tom knew the line, and he danced on it better than anyone.

“It’s a mind game,” he said. “They’re working you over before I can get to you. There’s always a deal, Luca. They just don’t want you to see it yet. They’ll offer one. They always do.”

I didn’t answer. Just held his gaze.

Because I wanted to believe him.

And because Tom didn’t waste words.

But the feds didn’t sound like they were bluffing back in the van. They said it like they’d already carved my headstone .

Now, hours later, I was still trying to figure out which of them had it right.

They’d kept me locked in a room for a while after the hospital. No window. No clock. Just me and four concrete walls. Tossing. Turning. Waiting.

I didn’t know how long I was in there. It felt like days. Probably wasn’t more than a few hours.

By the time they brought me here, it was nearly noon. I saw it on a clock on our way here.

Enzo and Nina were probably in their own rooms by now. Sitting just like me. Silent. They wouldn’t talk. Neither would I. Even if this was the end of the line, I wasn’t about to hand the feds the satisfaction.

But sitting here, I couldn’t stop thinking about Isabelle.

The way she’d clung to Jake in the back of that ambulance. The blood on her skin, even though none of it was hers. The look in her eyes when they’d dragged me out in cuffs. Like she had already been mourning me.

I let out a slow breath, my chest tightening with the effort.

Footsteps. Heels clicking. Slow. Measured.

The door creaked open, and for a moment, I wished it hadn’t.

The second Isabelle walked in, I knew a clean break wasn’t in the cards. Because the woman in front of me wasn’t the woman who had clung to me, shaking when everything went to hell. The one I’d told myself needed saving from my world.

No—this was Deputy District Attorney Isabelle Ellis. The prosecutor with a conviction rate that made defense attorneys lose sleep. The woman who never backed down from a fight.

The red dress hugged her like a second skin, sharp and deliberate—like she was walking into a battlefield, not a detention center.

And her eyes? All fire and fight .

She wasn’t here to fall apart. She was here to win.

I couldn’t look away.

For a heartbeat, everything dropped out—where we were, what I was supposed to say, why I’d told myself this had to happen.

The door slammed shut behind her. It echoed hard, like a verdict. This was supposed to be the moment I ended it. Ended us. Protecting her the only way I knew how—by walking away.

I had the words rehearsed a hundred times over.

I’d convinced myself it was the right move.

The only move. Still, when I opened my mouth to tell her it was over, nothing came out.

Not a damn word. Because all I wanted was to pull her into my arms and just say it.

That I loved her. That I didn’t know how to breathe without her anymore.

But I knew how this story ended. I’d seen it play out too many times—families torn apart, wives and kids left to pick up the pieces while husbands rotted in a cell.

Isabelle and Jake deserved better than that.

“Luca…” Her voice cracked around my name. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted any of this.”

I stood, shaking my head. “Don’t. Don’t apologize, Siren. This isn’t on you.”

She stared at me, eyes wide, like the words didn’t make sense coming out of my mouth.

“But I—”

“No,” I cut her off, voice firm.

I dragged in a breath, held her gaze, and tried like hell to brace myself for what I knew had to come next. Three words. We are over. Right there on the tip of my tongue, waiting to fall.

“We’re past apologies. What’s done is done. What matters now is what comes next.” I swallowed hard. The words tasted like ash in my mouth.

Her eyes locked onto mine, searching .

She wasn’t letting go. She was looking for something. A sign. Any damn proof that I hadn’t checked out yet.

I had the breakup speech locked and loaded, ready to give her an easy way out. But pulling the trigger? That was a whole different story when she looked more likely to take out the judge than to walk away. So I softened the blow.

“I’ve made a decision. I’m giving the FBI everything—everything on Ivanov and Parker… all of it.”

She opened her mouth, probably ready to argue, but I raised my hand before the words could come.

“There’s a deal,” I said, like it wasn’t complete bullshit. “But if it doesn’t work out…”

My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms—probably the only thing keeping me from falling apart right in front of her.

This was it. The part that would break me because I knew the truth. There was no miracle waiting around the corner. No last-minute save. No way out.

This wasn’t some story with a happy ending.

This was the end of the road. And I wasn’t walking away from it.

Not this time.

“If this falls apart… I want you gone. Walk away and don’t turn around. Ever.”

Her breath hitched, sharp and thin, the kind of sound that made you feel it in your bones. Her eyes filled fast with disbelief and pain.

But I wasn’t done. Not even close.

“You and Jake… you’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it. You’ll have everything you need—a life, a future, freedom. But me?”

My voice nearly gave out, but I pushed through it.

“I don’t want you waiting around for a man who’s never getting out.

I don’t even want Jake to know I’m his father.

He deserves better than that—better than growing up with a dad he only sees through bulletproof glass.

Better than a life spent visiting a prison.

You both deserve more than this. More than me . ”

She kept shaking her head—refusing to accept it.

I didn’t stop. I had to say it, even if it was killing me inside.

“I love you, Siren. You have to know that. But I can’t take you down with me. I won’t. If this deal falls through, I’m done. And I need you to let me go.”

I was ready for her to cry, to scream at me. Something dramatic. Hell, maybe even wanted it. I’d built this whole lie around the hope that her breaking would be loud enough to drown out the rest of it.

But instead, she went still. Dead calm.

“I love you too, but don’t you dare accept anything. I don’t care what they’re dangling in front of you. No deals. Not until I’ve sorted this out.”

She stood there—no bullshit, all lawyer, heels planted, chin high, all courtroom command. And my fucked-up head served up a different version of her—mouth wrapped around my cock, her control turned to desperation.

Clearly, I’d lost my grip on reality, and my brain was doing reruns of our greatest hits instead of dealing with the crisis in front of me.

My body, the absolute traitor, decided now was the perfect time to get a fucking hard-on.

But honestly? It wasn’t even my fault. She wasn’t just standing there—she was owning the damn room, including me, taking charge like she was about to cross-examine God himself. Like she’d already decided the outcome, and apparently, my dick had a deep appreciation for powerful women.

So now, instead of focusing on the fact that maybe this was the last time I saw her without a glass between us, I had a brand new top priority: Do. Not. Let. Her. Notice.

Which was already a lost cause, because standing mere inches from her, wrapped up in her sweet coconut scent wasn’t helping. If anything, it was making it worse.

“Siren…” I started, trying to find the right words.

But she wasn’t done yet.

“Just trust me. Don’t accept anything yet. There are favors I can call in. I won’t let you throw your life away without a fight.”

Fuck it. If she saw, she saw. I squared my shoulders like I had my shit together, like I wasn’t absolutely about to make things weird.

“Well then, Mrs. Abruzzo, lead the way,” I said, throwing on a smirk that felt about 60% faking we had a chance and 40% “God help me.”

She raised one brow at the name, a quiet laugh playing at the edge of her mouth.

“We only have ten minutes, so don’t play around—listen. We’re aiming for immunity. This is your only chance. If you don’t hear from me, you tell them you’ll give everything—every file, every name—but only for immunity. No deals without it.”

I wanted to fix it. Wanted to tell her I’d claw us out of this.

But even fantasy has its limits.

“I love you. No matter what the hell happens next.”

Her eyes softened, and then her lips were on mine.

I kissed her like a man with nothing left. Like she was the last good thing I’d ever touch. And in that moment, the cuffs disappeared. So did the guards, the consequences, the weight of every choice I couldn’t undo. There was only her.

We stayed close, our foreheads resting together, breath-to-breath.

“I love you too,” she whispered. “So much.”

I raised my cuffed hands and wiped away the lipstick at the corner of her mouth.

And then—because apparently, I hadn’t suffered enough—her gaze dropped .

Right to the very reason I’d been trying hard not to move too much.

Her head tilted, eyes flicking back up to mine. She shook her head, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

“You cannot be serious.”

But at least she was smiling now. That was something.

I shrugged, all false nonchalance and frayed nerves.

“Well, at least now you know I’m still in peak physical condition,” I said with a grin.

The door behind her creaked open, loud enough to snap the moment in half.

Everything in me wanted to reach for her. To ignore the whole fucked-up situation, and just keep her.

But I couldn’t.

So I played my part. Pretended like none of this was breaking me.

“You go be a badass lawyer. I’ll be fine. I’ve spent years running an empire. I can absolutely handle a dorm of criminals with questionable life choices.”

Isabelle shaking her head with a smile was the last thing I saw before the door clicked shut, and I couldn’t decide what was worse—being stuck in this place or knowing she still believed there was a way out.