The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 155

Latisha gasped, quickly pulling the curtains shut and whirling around to face the door.

Santino walked in carrying a shopping bag, tossing his keys onto the TV stand.

She pressed herself against the sliding glass door, watching warily as he approached.

He stopped, his gaze dropping from her face to her chest. She quickly crossed her arms to cover herself.

Santino laughed and closed the distance between them. “What’s the point of covering up now?” he murmured, leaning close to her ear. “I was the one who bathed you while you were unconscious.”

Latisha’s eyes flew open. She turned her head to glare at him, but they were so close that her lips brushed against his. The fleeting contact was enough to feel the warmth and softness of his mouth.

Santino held his position, his wavy hair falling across his face. Their eyes met, so close she could hear his heartbeat and feel his breath on her skin.

He slowly raised a hand to his own lips, a dangerous light kindling in his eyes.

Fear coiled in her stomach. Latisha tried to back away, but the glass door was cold against her back. There was nowhere to go.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” His voice had lost its gentle quality, replaced by an icy edge.

She shook her head frantically, her terror plain to see. She looked like a cornered fawn, both pitiful and alluring.

He cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. She flinched, expecting a slap.

“Is this how you seduce Clifford?” he mused. “No wonder he won’t divorce you.”

He continued, almost to himself, “But do you know what he said? It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care about you anyway. Latisha, should I call you pathetic, or tragic?”

The pain in her head finally subsided enough for his words to register, each one a knife twisting in her heart. She slowly lifted her head. A trickle of blood from her hairline ran down her face, tracing a crimson path to the corner of her mouth.

He didn’t seem to notice. He took a set of clothes out of the bag. “Get dressed. Your friend is waiting for you.”

At the mention of her friend, Latisha’s senses sharpened. Ignoring the throbbing pain, she snatched the clothes and stumbled back into the bedroom to change.

This time, Santino didn’t try to humiliate her further. He just stood there, his gaze fixed on the closed bedroom door, his thoughts unreadable.

When Latisha emerged, he was gone.