Chapter 159

After a moment's hesitation, Latisha opened the door and slid into the seat beside Clifford. She could feel his gaze on her, sharp and dissecting. She kept her head down, not daring to look at him.

Ziven got in, and the car pulled away in silence. The tension was so thick she could hear her own breathing.

Forty minutes later, they arrived at the villa.

Ziven discreetly got out and left them alone.

Clifford still hadn't said a word. Latisha gathered her courage and snuck a glance at him. He was leaning back, a dark silhouette in the unlit car. She tentatively reached out and tugged on his sleeve.

He turned his head, his gaze locking on her face. She quickly looked down. He reached out and tilted her chin up. "What did you two do for the past three days?"

Her body went rigid as the memories flooded back, a dull ache starting in her head. She raised her hands to explain: *Nikita and I didn't do anything. We were both kidnapped. The man...*

"I know who he is," Clifford interrupted, his voice flat. "I'm asking what you did."

The words hit her like a physical blow.

He knew? He knew all along, and for three whole days, he hadn't come for her. And now he was asking her what she had done with Santino.

She should have been used to it by now-his indifference, his coldness. But his question still sent a searing pain through her heart.

A bitter smile touched her lips. A smile for her own foolishness, for the cheapness of her years of devotion.

Santino was right. She was pathetic.

"Answer me."

She looked at the shadowed face beside her, pushed down the pain, and raised her hands.

*A man and a woman, alone. What do you think we did?* She signed each word with deliberate clarity: *Everything.*

The hand on her jaw tightened, and she winced in pain.

"Is that so?” he whispered, leaning closer, his face now illuminated by the faint light. "Everything? Show me."

She stared at him, stunned. The pain in her chest was so intense it felt like someone was squeezing her heart.

She signed, her hands shaking slightly: *You taught me. You've already seen it all, haven't you?*

Clifford's expression darkened, the mask of calm finally cracking. "Willingly?"

She looked at his thunderous

expression and felt a sudden, reckless urge to see that mask shatter completely, his possessions, even the ones he despised, were his alone.

She met his gaze, and with a sense of fatalistic resolve, she nodded.

She heard a harsh intake of breath. He threw open his car door, grabbed her arm, and dragged her out. She stumbled, falling hard onto the gravel driveway, scraping her knee. He didn't even look back, just kept putting her forward. She scrambled to her feet, trying to keep up.

He

Sed her into the house and

to the bathroom, where he

shoved her into the tub. It was filled with cold water content

Before she could get up, a hand clamped onto her jaw and pushed her head back under.