Chapter 109

Clifford stared at her signing hands, his expression unreadable. He didn't speak.

Latisha waited for what felt like an eternity before finally looking up to meet his deep, inscrutable gaze. She started to sign the words again, but he caught her fingers, stopping her.

"Have you forgotten what I told you?" he asked in a low voice.

Her eyelashes fluttered. A bitter smile touched her lips as she let her hands fall limply to her sides.

What had he told her? He'd told her not to love him.

Clifford sighed. His expression softened, and he reached out to wipe the tears from the corner of her eye, his tone like that of a parent coaxing a child. "Don't cry. Look, it's just the two of us now. No one else to bother us. Isn't that better?"

Latisha turned her head, avoiding his touch.

His eyes flickered. He forcefully turned her head back, making her look at him.

"Isn't it?" he repeated.

She bit her lip, refusing to meet his eyes.

Sometime, somewhere along the way, the face she had once longed for had become a source of suffocation. It felt as if an invisible chain was wrapped around her neck. In the name of family, he had leashed her to this house like a dog, with no friends, no freedom.

Nothing.

Clifford tilted her chin up, refusing to relent until he got a response. Latisha was forced to look at him, but she remained silent. She had realized that nothing she said or did mattered. It was all futile.

"I treat you so well. Why do you need anyone else?" he murmured. Whenever he spoke like this, his voice was like the whisper of a demon, full of a dangerous, alluring power.

Latisha tried to pull away, but Clifford wrapped his arms around her and leaned in to kiss her. She turned her head, but he grabbed the back of her neck and forced her to face him. He bit down on her lip, not a kiss but a warning.

She struggled her hands pushing against his chest, but the difference in their strength was too great. He pushed her down onto the sofa The sold air hit her skin as he tore at het clothes. Like a demon, he bit and gnawed at her lips, ignoring her silent pleas. Within moments, she could taste blood.

Just as she felt she was about to suffocate, she bit down hard on his lip. Their blood mingled instantly. A mixture of blood and saliva choked her, and she began to cough violently, her face turning crimson.

Finally, he let her go.

Latisha slid off the sofa onto the floor, propping herself up with her hands as she spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. She gasped for air, her chest heaving, taking several long moments to recover.

wn on the floor beside

Clifford sat down

her. He bent one knee, rested an arm on it, and wiped the blood from his mouth before lighting a cigarette. Smoke swirled between them a hazy curtain separating two peopI who were so close, yet divided by a chasm too deep to cross?

Latisha pulled her clothes together and glanced at him. He was smoking quietly, his

hair slightly disheveled. The collar of his shirt was rumpled, two buttons torn off from her struggle, and two fresh scratches marked his chest.

She tugged on his sleeve. Clifford turned his head, his expression now calm, as if nothing had happened.

Latisha signed, *Can you let Mrs. Dashiell come back?*

He looked away, leaning forward to stub out his cigarette in the ashtray. "You still don't listen to a word I say."

Latisha lowered her gaze, her fingers knotting together. After a long silence, she summoned her courage, pulled open the coffee table drawer, and placed the divorce papers in front of him once more.

He didn't seem angry. He calmly picked them up and flipped through them. "When were you planning to bring this up again?"

Without looking at her, he finished reading the document, then nonchalantly tore it in half, then into quarters, and then into countle tiny pieces. He tossed them into the air, and the scraps of paper rained down around them like confetti.