Chapter 149

Santino's smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. “Is that so? I'll review it again."

He picked up the file. “I'll bring it back to you after I've made the revisions."

Clifford said nothing, which Santino took as a tacit agreement.

As soon as Santino left, Clifford ripped off his tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. His face became a stony mask as he sat alone in the silent conference room, his gaze distant.

He remained there until Selah knocked and entered.

"Mr. Lambert, I couldn't reach you yesterday, so I went ahead and finalized the deal with the client. Here's the contract for your review."

Clifford took the document, flipping through it distractedly. "Fine. You continue to manage it."

“Of course,” Selah said, taking the contract back. She hesitated, studying his face. "Mr. Lambert, is something troubling you?"

Clifford looked up at her. "Is it that obvious?"

Selah offered a small smile. “It is. You only glanced at two pages of that contract." Clifford didn't reply. He simply stood up and walked out of the room.

Latisha awoke on the floor. A night in the cold had left every muscle in her body aching. She was still in the same room, her wrists still bound to the chair.

The only difference was a bowl placed in front of her, filled with cold, leftover food.

She swallowed hard. Even cold, the scent of the food was tantalizing, making her mouth water. But to eat it in this position... she would be no better than a dog.

Her fingers tightened on the arm of the chair as she stared at the bowl. After a moment, she closed her eyes and turned her head away. Perhaps her will to live wasn't strong enough to make the hunger unbearable.

Just then, the door opened. Latisha's head snapped up.

Santino entered, dressed in a dark, expensive-looking silk shirt that made his gentle features seem all the more refined, He crouched in front of her, tilting his head. The soft waves of his hair cast shadows on his face, making him look déceptively kind. His gaze shifted to the untouched bowl of food.

"So, you have some pride after all," he chuckled.

It wasn't a compliment. The next second, he grabbed her by the hair again and yanked her head up. The chair came with her, and the weight was almost unbearable, threatening to rip the hair from her scalp Pain seared through her and her face went pale, veins popping on her temples as her features twisted in agony.

"So much pride," he murmured, his voice a low, mocking whisper. "Then why do you stay by Clifford's side like a dog begging for scraps?"

He brought the bowl to her lips, his voice still gentle. “Eat. You'll starve if you don't."

He paused, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Although... perhaps you want to die?"

He leaned closer. "But you can't die. Not yet."

The kinder he sounded, the more monstrous his actions became. He took the bowl and slammed her face down into it.

Rice and vegetables filled her nose and mouth, cutting off her air. Her chest seized, and she began to

sucked into her nasal passagnet

choke, the food particles being.

coughed violently, but he held her head down

She

mly. The force of her coughing sent food flying from the

bowl, splattering onto his hands and the floor.

She thrashed, but tied to the chair and weak from hunger, she had no strength left.

Her brain screamed for oxygen, and her vision began to fade.

From above her, she heard Santino's voice. "See? You can make sounds. Why can't you speak?"

Her coughs were barely audible, more like choked gasps of air than actual sounds.