The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 153

Santino’s lips curled into a triumphant smirk as he watched her remove her clothes, one piece at a time.

When she was done, she turned to face the wall, her long hair stark against her pale skin.

“The pants.”

Her back stiffened. She hugged herself tighter, her knuckles turning white. She didn’t want anyone to save her anymore. She knew no one would. In all the times she had silently prayed for a rescuer, not a single person had ever reached out. She wasn’t that little girl anymore, the one who had a protector.

Darby was gone. Clifford no longer cared. She was alone in a barren wasteland. The only person who had shown her kindness was now a captive because of her.

What was the point of dignity? What was the point of fighting?

She surrendered. She would do whatever Santino wanted. If he wanted her to strip, she would strip. If he wanted her to die, she would die. Her life was worthless; no one cared. It didn’t matter anymore.

Whether from exhaustion, the cold, or the relentless torture, the world suddenly began to tilt. A familiar wave of dizziness washed over her. She swayed on her feet and then collapsed onto the floor.

…

It was the third day of Latisha’s disappearance, and Ziven still had no leads. He was pacing frantically in the villa’s courtyard, at his wits’ end.

While everyone else was panicking, Clifford was the picture of calm. He went to work, came home, and followed his routine as if Latisha were still there. In fact, he was coming home more regularly than ever.

No one knew what he was thinking.

As Ziven paced, the front door opened, and Clifford emerged, impeccably dressed. Ziven hurried over to him. Clifford gave him a cool, indifferent glance and walked to the car.

Ziven got into the driver’s seat and looked in the rearview mirror. Clifford was already leaning back with his eyes closed. Not daring to speak, Ziven started the car and drove to the office.

The doors opened on the 20th floor. As Clifford stepped out, he said, “Don’t forget to come get those investment proposals.”

Santino blinked, but before he could respond, the doors had closed.

Later that day, Santino went to the CEO’s office to retrieve the proposals. He saw that Clifford had already signed them.

“They’re approved?”

Clifford rubbed his temples, a rare sign of fatigue showing on his face. “Get it done. Don’t let it drag on.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

These investments would tie up nearly fifty percent of the company’s liquid assets. The longer they took to materialize, the greater the risk.