The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 262

“Get out!” Clifford’s voice suddenly rose to a roar, his eyes flashing with a terrifying chill that made Ziven snap his mouth shut.

Ziven said no more, backing out of the room silently.

Over the past few days, he had started to understand why Mr. Lambert was so calm. Panicking now would be useless. If Mr. Lambert threw all his resources into finding Latisha, his business dealings would falter.

And what would happen after he found her? Would he be blackmailed by Santino, forced to trade company shares for her life? Or would he push Santino into a corner, causing him to do something desperate, like killing them both? In that scenario, Mr. Lambert would lose everything.

The more Ziven thought about it, the colder he felt. At the same time, he couldn't help but admire Mr. Lambert's composure. He weighed the pros and cons with perfect clarity. A man like that was destined for greatness, unhindered by emotional attachments. The art of choosing was a delicate balance.

...

Night fell, deep and cold. The temperature at the farmhouse dropped to near freezing.

Latisha was bundled in a man’s black down coat—it must have been Santino’s. It was enormous on her, the hem brushing her ankles.

A brazier burned in the middle of the room, casting a warm glow. Latisha squatted beside it while Santino sat in a nearby armchair. A chain was locked around her ankle again, but this time it was iron, secured to the leg of the bed. The length was just enough to let her move around the room.

It was quiet, the only sounds being the crackle of the fire and the soft rustle of pages as Santino read. The warm, orange light flickered across his face, softening his already gentle features.

Latisha’s legs began to go numb, so she quietly shifted from her squat to sitting on her knees on the floor. Santino glanced at her but said nothing. She stared into the brazier, the flames dancing in her pupils, her long lashes hiding the emotion in her eyes.

Crouched at his feet, she really did resemble a small, obedient dog. As she zoned out, a hand suddenly came to rest on her head.

Latisha stiffened, her whole body tensing, but she didn’t dare move. Santino continued to stroke her hair as he read. She closed her eyes. Being petted like this, she almost started to believe she was a dog.

But she remained perfectly still, knowing that angering him would lead not just to mental torment, but physical pain as well. She’d learned that lesson already. Since she couldn’t escape, why not make things easier on herself?

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