The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 151

He was right. To Clifford, she was just a dog, locked in a cage. He’d pet her when he was pleased and ignore her when he wasn’t, forbidding her from wagging her tail for anyone else.

Mrs. Lambert? What a joke. In everyone’s eyes, she was nothing.

How could she let Nikita die for a scrap of pride she didn’t even possess?

Santino watched her, the smile fading from his lips, his eyes glinting with an unreadable light. With her hair in such a mess, she really did look like a stray.

Latisha licked the last grain of rice from the bowl. She bit her lip and looked up at him, her eyes burning with shame. Even though she believed she had no dignity left, the humiliation was a physical thing, a crushing weight that made her want to disappear.

Santino set the bowl down with a smile and held up his phone. “Would you like to see just how pathetic you looked?”

Her eyes widened as she saw the screen. It was a video of what she had just done.

The shame intensified, white-hot and absolute. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to be erased from existence.

He played with the phone, admiring his handiwork. “I should really send this to Clifford. Do you two play games like this?”

Latisha clenched her fists, knowing exactly what he meant. She turned her head away, too ashamed to look at him.

Suddenly, Santino reached out and began to untie the ropes on her wrists. The moment they came loose, a wave of relief washed over her. She slumped forward, sliding bonelessly from the chair to the floor.

He grabbed the collar of her shirt and dragged her out of the room. She was too weak to resist. The fabric pulled tight against her throat, choking her.

“If you make me do it,” his voice cut through the sound of the water, “I promise I won’t be gentle. And remember, your friend is still in my hands.”

Latisha’s lips tightened. Her eyes, fixed on his, were a maelstrom of shame, anger, and fear. But her pale, lovely face could only convey a fraction of her inner turmoil. All anyone would see was the haunted look in her red-rimmed eyes and her disheveled state.

There was something about a beautiful woman looking at a man with humiliation in her eyes that could trigger a man’s darkest impulses.

Santino stared into her eyes, his own gaze darkening. “Don’t make me say it a third time. Strip.”

Latisha’s fingers dug into her own arms as a war raged within her.

Santino lost his patience and threw the showerhead to the floor. It thrashed around like a snake, spraying water everywhere, soaking his clothes as well.