Chapter 152

He grabbed her arm and yanked her toward him. She instinctively crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head frantically.

"Playing innocent won't work on me," he snarled.

He grabbed her ankle and pulled, sending her sprawling onto her back. Her head hit the hard tile floor again. Pain exploded behind her eyes.

While she was still dizzy, he ripped her sweater halfway off.

Ignoring the throbbing in her head, she scrambled away, retreating back into the corner as if it were a safe haven. It was a lie, of course. There was no safe place. It was self-deception, just like her feelings for Clifford had always been.

Santino watched her, an amused, cruel smile on his face. He reached out to touch her hair, but she flinched away. She hugged her knees, burying her face against them, wishing the floor would swallow her whole.

"Look at you, you're filthy," he said, his voice deceptively soft. "I'm just trying to help you get clean. What are you so afraid of?"

His fingers brushed against her wet hair, then threaded through the strands, his grip tightening until he had a fistful. He yanked her head back, forcing her to look at him. "Are you testing my patience?"

Her brow furrowed in pain. She raised a trembling hand and signed, *Let Nikita go. Let her go, and I'll do whatever you want.*

Santino laughed. "And you think I'd believe you? That if I let her go, you'd still be so obedient?" His tone was almost affectionate, a chilling contrast to the fist still tangled in her hair.

Her plan was so transparent. If he freed Nikita, she would find a way to end her own life rather than endure another moment of his humiliation.

He sighed dramatically and released her hair. “I'll give you one last chance. Take them off yourself. Or," he paused, letting the threat hang in the air, “I can go and undress Nikita instead. Hmm?"

Latisha's eyes widened in horror.

She understood his goal now. He wasn't after information or ransom. He just wanted to humiliate her, for the sheer pleasure of it.

She swallowed hard and signed, *Why? Why are you doing this to me?*

He stared at her for a long, silent moment. “When you remember, you won't have to ask."

*What do you want me to remember?*

“If I told you, it would spoil the fun,” he said. “I want you to remember on your own, Latisha. Do you understand?"

Her head felt like it was about to split open. Her memory was intact. What event, what detail was she missing? He was giving het tothing It was just an excuse to torment her.

"The clothes," he said, his patience wearing thin. "Take them off. Get clean."

She hesitated.

"This is your last chance," he warned.

She gestured quickly: *You said you're not interested in me. Leave, and I'll wash myself.*

bet

He smiled I'm not interested. But that doesn't stop me from watching, does it?

replaced by a cold mask

His smile van OR FUN 2

"Strip!" he barked.

Latisha flinched at the harsh command. She thought of Nikita. If her own humiliation

was the price for Nikita's safety, then so be it.

Latisha closed her eyes and, with

trembling hands, gripped the hem of

her wet sweater, Taking a deep breath, she pulled it over her head.