Page 95 of Broken By Silence
“He’s pissed off the wrong families,” Pacheco continues, oblivious to the storm inside of me. “Broken deals, shady operations, liabilities.Everyone is done with him. He’s exposed, and you know what that means, Roman.”
I let the words sink in, and let the cold facade my father beat into me, take over, but relief tugs at the corner of my mind. Finally. Finally, a way to finish this. “I understand.”
Pacheco nods once, approvingly. “Good. The families have given their blessing. You can take care of him, but make sure there are no loose ends. After, we can discuss everything else.”
Will and Pacheco talk logistics, and my fingers drum lightly against the table. I don’t speak. I don’t need to. The weight of everything, the final permission from the families, is enough.
I breath in, slow and deliberate, letting the relief mingle with the part of me that never thought I would be free.
Midway through the conversation,Angel steps onto the stage. She moves with a grace that pulls nearly every eye in the room, fluid and deliberate, like she owns the stage before she even reaches the center.
I watch the subtle shift in everyone’s posture, how everyone stops their conversation to look at her, but it’s Pacheco who draws my attention.
He stops mid-sentence, glass halfway to his lips, eyes glued to her. The sharp, calculating air he always carries evaporates and is replaced with something almost… hungry. He leans forward, elbow on his knee, jaw tight; it’s like she’s the only thing in the world he sees. His eyes don’t waver from her, and there’s a light in his eyes I haven’t seen before, but one I’m very familiar with.
Obsession.
“Who is that?” He’s not asking, he’s commanding to know.
“She’s our girl’s friend—” I begin, but Pacheco cuts me off with a wave of his hand.
“I don’t care who’s friend she is, Valen. I want to knowher. Now. Tell me everything you know about her… Everything. Where she comes from, what she does,who she is. This girl,” he leans back slightly, “I want her.”
“I don’t know that much about her. She’s known as Angel here. For all I know, she’s a skilled and dangerous assassin,” I joke, but it falls flat.
Pacheco’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, the club feels smaller. He leans forward. “I don’t care if she’s dangerous.I want her. Nothing else matters. Tell me she’s untouchable, and I’ll kill you just to get to her. Make no mistake, she’s mine if she’ll let me have her.”
I sip my scotch carefully. The conversation has paused completely. Angel, moving across the stage, is unaware she’s been claimed before she even knows who this man is.
Minutes drag. Finally, one of Pacheco’s men approaches him iPad in hand. Pacheco snatches it, eyes flicking between the screen and her. Then he leans back, almost exhaling, a satisfied smirk forming. “She’s cleared, and more than that…” His eyes snap back to Angel, and the obsession is unmistakable. “She’s everything. I want you to do me a favor, Valen. I want you to keep an eye on her. No one touches her, no one even looks without permission.”
“And Lorenzo? I need to protect my girl first, Pacheco.”
“We own the club,” Archer admits, “Angel is looked after, and protected by some of our best men.”
“You do?” My head snaps to his.
“Bought it the week I found out our girl was dancing. I wasn’t taking any chances with her safety.” Archer shrugs, but I know it’s taking a lot for him to admit.
“Angel is one of my wife’s closest friends. We’ll protect her, but Angel is perfectly capable of protecting herself. She’s quite scary when she wants to be.” Elijah tells him, and I want to hit him for claiming Lottie like that.
Pacheco nods. “Understood.”
Lottie glides past a table, laughing lightly with a customer. My gaze locks on her, heart steady beneath the practiced calm. Pacheco’s attention flickers between Angel and theconversation.
“The families want Lorenzo dead,” Pacheco finally says again, bringing us back. “No debate. No hesitation. He’s liability number one. And you, Roman, have their permission. Take care of it however you see fit. The risk is yours, but the reward… peace.”
Elijah nods, calm but alert. Archer’s jaw is tight, but his eyes carry understanding. Will nods in silent approval.
Lottie moves near the bar, collecting tips, unnoticed by most, but visible to me. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t draw attention. Siren. Controlled, lethal in her beauty, and untouchable. My chest rises and falls steadily.
I think about how long I’ve been obsessed with her. How long I’ve circled the edges of her life, keeping her close but never close enough to claim. And now, sitting here in this booth, permission in hand to strike at Lorenzo, it’s impossible not to notice how every thought of her twists in my chest. Every flicker of her hair across her shoulder, the subtle sway of her hips as she walks.
It’s a line I can’t uncross. I know it. I feel it.
I love her. Or maybe it’s obsession. Or maybe they’re the same thing with her. She’s lethal, untouchable, and yet she’s mine in every moment I can stand close enough to watch, to think, to imagine. I imagine her in my arms, safe and defiant. I imagine her smiling at me the way only she does, a flash of warmth behind the armor she’s built. And I can’t tell if it’s my obsession or my heart that clenches every time she moves past me, unaware of the storm she’s stirred in me.
I hate that I want her. Hate that the calm, collected man I’ve honed over decades is unraveling at the sight of her. She doesn’t need me to watch her, doesn’t need my protection—not really. Yet, every instinct screams to guard her, to claim her, to make sure no one touches her, no one even breathes in her direction without my say-so.
