Chapter 258

Latisha bit her lip, hesitant to leave the car. But Santino gave her no choice. He walked around, opened her door, and yanked her out. The rain was still falling, and without an umbrella, they were both soaked in seconds.

He pulled her forward, and she stumbled behind him. She glanced up and saw they were at what looked like a farm. Inside the main gate was a large courtyard filled with vegetable patches, dominated by a two-story wooden house. The farm was huge, yet eerily silent, with not a soul in sight.

Santino dragged her inside and into a room, shoving her to the floor. He then went to a wardrobe and pulled out a set of clothes.

Latisha, still on the floor, watched him, her eyes widening in shock as he began to change right in front of her. She quickly averted her gaze, her eyes darting to the closed door. The thought of escape flickered in her mind again.

But then she remembered the drive here—all winding mountain roads. Even if she made it out of the farmhouse, she'd never make it off this mountain. The thought died as quickly as it had come, and she sat quietly on the floor, waiting for him to finish.

A moment later, Santino, now dressed, crouched in front of her. Latisha looked up. He had traded his ornate silk suit for a white one. The pristine suit, paired with his handsome face, made him look like a prince straight out of a fairy tale. His hair was still damp, clinging to his temples, and when his eyes crinkled into a smile, he was devastatingly beautiful, blurring the lines between masculine and feminine.

Latisha quickly looked away, her fingers clenching into tight fists, her heart thudding in her chest. She remembered the last time he had tormented her and wondered what he had planned this time. The more she thought, the tighter her fists became, her nails digging into her palms.

Santino reached out, gripping her chin and forcing her face toward him. "What do you think? Will Clifford be able to find you this time?"

Latisha bit her lip, unable to meet his gaze.

Santino chuckled and stood up, grabbing a set of clothes from the bed and tossing them to her. "Change."

Latisha clutched the clothes, looking around frantically. There was nowhere private to change.

As if reading her mind, Santino said, "It's not like I haven't seen it all before."

The words sent a hot blush creeping up her neck to the tips of her ears.

"Change. Don't make me say it a third time."

Latisha remained frozen, clutching the clothes, Šantino's eyes narrowed. He suddenly leaned down, his fingers digging into her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. "Do

In

only

you think that just because other

took you this time, have no other way to threaten you?"

Latisha froze, her eyes wide with surprise.

Santino smiled. "What was her name? Mrs. Dashiell, wasn't it? Still lying in a hospital bed, am I right?"

Latisha's pupils constricted, and the hand holding the clothes began to tremble.

"It would be quite simple to have her killed," he continued

conversationally "Or perhaps,

cotua

have per experience what it means to be better off dead."

Whether from fear or anger, Latisha's shoulders began to shake.

Santino didn't need to say it a third time. He stood up, looking down at her, waiting for her to make her choice.

Latisha lowered her head and looked

at the clothes in her hands. The rain

pattered outside. There was no heating in the room, and cold air

seeped through the window frames, chilling her to the bone. After a long moment she let out a

Q shaky breath

and stood up. She walked a few steps away, turning her back to him before pulling off her sweater.

Santino watched her, his lips curved into an inscrutable smile.