Page 99 of Tangled Desires

Harrison picks the movie—The Holiday—and for the next few hours, that’s it. The three of us are in our little bubble. Harrison’s arms wrap around me, holding me close, while Michael sits on the other end of the couch, cracking jokes every now and then about the movie.

And the snacks. Can’t forget the snacks.

36

38 weeks

The day’s gone well enough so far. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about squeezing myself and my bump into the salon, especially when I could’ve been sprawled on the couch with a tub of ice cream.

Technically, I’m on maternity leave.Technically.

But when Stella called, all desperation about needing the perfect blowout for her engagement tomorrow—and insisted it had to happen tonight—I caved. She’s been a client of mine for years. Hard to say no to someone who’s stuck with you through every questionable fringe decision and colour phase. Plus, extra cash? Hard to say no to that when there’s a baby on the way.

The kicker? Harrison. The man practically growled when he found out I was going in.“You’re not going alone, especially not at night,” he muttered, tossing Isla’s name into the mix. Not that I’m complaining. It’s good to have company. And let’s be honest, I need the help.

Isla’s mainly fetching things, giving my back a break, which right now feels like it’s on the verge of snapping in half.

“How’re we looking?” I ask, wrapping the final section of Stella’s hair around a roller, securing it with a flick of my wrist. The glossy waves sit just right, pinned in neat, voluminous curls. Stella beams, doing a little shimmy in the chair like she’s already imagining tomorrow’s grand entrance.

She catches her reflection and snorts. “I look like a granny with these rollers.”

From the basin, Isla cackles, nearly dropping a towel. “Spot on, Nana Stella.”

I huff, hands on my hips. “You won’t be saying that tomorrow. You’re gonna look amazing. Congrats again, by the way.”

Stella’s eyes sparkle. “I could kiss you. Thank you!” We go for an awkward hug—well, as much as we can manage with my bump taking up most of the space between us.

Payment’s sorted, and just like that, she’s out the door, all smiles and ready to dazzle. Isla’s already packing up in the back while I flip the sign toClosedand grab a broom. Relief washes over me—until the chime above the door dings.

“We’re closed!” I call out, not even glancing up, hoping whoever it is gets the hint. No such luck. Heavy footsteps echo inside. I turn, and my heart plummets to the floor.

Three men stand there, towering, rough-looking, with muscles on top of muscles, tattoos covering every inch of exposed skin, eyes fixed on me with chilling intent.

One of them steps forward, his voice low and gruff. “You Imogen Price?”

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. “No.”

He lifts his shirt just enough to flash the gun tucked into his waistband. “You sure about that, sweetheart?”

“What… What do you want?”

“Let’s try that again.” He steps closer, that smirk never leaving his face. “You Harrison’s missus?” I force myself to nod, my eyes darting around, praying Isla’s caught onto what’s happening and has hidden.

“Better,” he says, snapping his fingers at one of the other guys, a behemoth covered head to toe in tattoos, even across his face. He walks over to the windows, yanking the blinds down before flipping the lock on the door with a loudclick. The leader’s eyes never leave mine. “Here’s the deal. Harrison’s dad owes me a lot of money. We were told you’ve got it. So, where’s the cash?”

My heart skips a beat.What the fuck?I pray to God Isla is somewhere back there, calling for help. “I don’t—I don’t have any money. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I stammer, the words flying out faster than I can stop them.

“You here on your own?”

I nod quickly. “Y-yes, it’s just me.”

The leader jerks his chin at Tattoo Face. “Check the place. Make sure she’s not lying.” He flashes me a grin. Not the friendly type. “Wouldn’t want to catch you lying, now would we?”

My stomach drops as Tattoo Face strides toward the back. My heart pounds so loudly I swear they can hear it. If they find Isla back there, hiding like some sort of scared rabbit, they’ll kill her. No doubt about it. These guys don’t strike me as the type to give second chances. And if she suddenly comes out now? My breath catches at the thought. I don’t even want to imagine what they’d do to her—or me. Finally, the guy comes back. “Boss, no one else here.”

I almost collapse in relief.

The leader looks back at me, smirking. “See, sweetheart? Honesty. It’s really not that hard.” He gestures to one of the salon chairs. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ve got a few more questions for you.”

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