Page 96 of Broken By Silence
It’s insanity.
But maybe that’s what I need, to finally do what should have beendone years ago.
The lightsover the stage dim slightly, casting a soft glow across Lottie’s skin.
She doesn’t acknowledge us directly, but the way she moves, the way her body tilts and shifts, owns every corner of the club. She starts slow, sliding her hands along her hips, the fabric of her top tightening across her chest before she lifts it over her head.
The music thrums, and I see the way her eyes close, the way her head lulls to the side as she lets it take over her entire body. My chest tightens. Every muscle in me wants to move, to intervene, to claim her like the others can, but I stay seated, watching, memorizing. Every curve, every shadow, every flicker of skin under the lights etches into my mind.
Obsession doesn’t even begin to cover it.
I love her. I need her. I want her.
And every inch of her while she performs for us reinforces that, twisting me tight inside.
Elijah leans forward, voice low, muttering over the hum of the music. “That’s my wife…”
Crew groans next to him, head shaking. Archer’s jaw tightens, eyes dark, but his eyes don’t leave Lottie, not even as his hand comes up to smack Elijah over the back of the head. “Ours dickhead.”
Oscar sits like a statue, hands folded, eyes tracking every movement on stage. He’s enraptured by her… we all are. I can see the tension in all of them, but none of it matters.
Only her. Only Lottie does.
Lottie peels the next layer off, slowly and with control. This isn’t about teasing, not about performing, really—this is hers. Her way of showing us that she’s strong. Each movement, each tilt of her shoulder, each shift of her hips, is all her way of claiming it back. A display of power, mastery… control.
She’s lethal, untouchable, and has all five of us sitting on the edge of our seats waiting until she gives us a command to move.
She’s Siren, alright, in every sense.
I can’t stop thinking about her. About every day that I torturedher, every moment that led to this moment in time right now, and now I need to fight against every instinct I have. To claim her, to keep her safe, to let her know she’s mine.
My obsession, my love, my need… it all blurs together.
Watching her now, I realize it’s more than obsession. It’s a fixation, yes, but it’s also something deeper, something I can’t name without betraying myself.
Everything inside me burns for her.
Lottie Reyes has destroyed me.
Broken me down piece by piece until I was nothing but a broken man laid at her feet, begging her to piece me back together again… and now… Now she owns me completely.
Chapter 33
Elijah
Isit in the kitchen, elbows on the table, staring at the grain in the wood.
The low hum of the refrigerator is the only thing keeping me grounded. My glass sits in front of me, untouched, and my knuckles ache from how hard I keep clenching my fists, desperate to get rid of the tremor in my hands from watching her on that stage.
Every movement she made showed us that she was unbroken and strong.
She wasn’t dancing for us. Not really.
She was reclaiming herself in the only way she knew how to, piece by piece, and we were just witnesses to her rebuilding herself after Lorenzo dared to put his hands on her.
And still I wanted her. God help me, I want her like nothing I’ve ever wanted in my life.
I called her my wife, knowing it would piss the others off, but I couldn’t help myself.
