Chapter 313

The humiliating position sent a hot blush creeping up Latisha's neck. She froze, afraid to move for fear of falling.

Clifford leaned in close, his voice a low whisper in her ear. "Stay away from people like her."

A wave of sorrow washed over Latisha. Why did he always assume someone else had corrupted her? Just because she was no longer his compliant little doll, she had somehow gone bad. And what about him? What kind of person was he?

“I..... I...” she stammered, unable to form a coherent thought. Her hands were still pinned, and he was taking advantage of her inability to speak, completely dominating the conversation. It was as if whoever spoke first held the truth.

"Enough. Don't say anything else," Clifford cut her off, not giving her a chance to even try. He lowered her back to her feet, freeing one hand to continue undressing her.

Pressed against the wall, unable to move, Latisha watched his detached, business- like expression. The dam inside her finally burst. A sob caught in her throat, and hot tears began streaming down her face.

Clifford glanced up, his hand moving to cup her face.

"What are you crying for?" he asked, his voice laced with impatience. "Weren't you having fun? Staying out so late with Mortimer?"

Latisha could only cry. What else could she do? She was mute.

Not expecting an answer, Clifford picked up the showerhead and began rinsing her hair. He gently combed his fingers through the strands.

"Turn around," he murmured.

Seeing that she remained silent and still, he turned her around himself, washing the suds from her hair. But as he worked, his hands began to wander.

Latisha's body went rigid.

Suddenly, he was pressing against her from behind, his lips close to her ear. “Don't let this happen again. Do you understand?"

She lowered her head, letting the water stream over her face and hair. He was always like this. No matter what happened, after a little

Jene

passed he would act as if it had been forgötten, carrying on exactly ast as before. He never cared about her feelings, and he would never

change.

Clifford put the showerhead back and turned her to face him again. With a slight lift, he hoisted her up her back pressing against the cold, wet wall. He positioned her legs around his waist, and Latisha instinctively grabbed onto his shirt her tear-filled eyes staring up at him. She was completely suspended, held up only by his strength.

Just then, his phone rang. Clifford paused for a moment before pulling it from his pocket and answering.

"You said you were coming to see me. Where are you?" Yesenia's voice drifted from the speaker.

"Later," he replied.

Latisha's lips tightened as she watched him. It wasn't the first time, but it never stopped hurting, the way he'd take calls from her right in the middle of... this.

She struggled, trying to get down, but he simply tightened his grip, pulling her back. A small, involuntary gasp escaped her lips.

"It's almost midnight," Yesenia complained. "What was that noise? What are you doing?"

Clifford glanced at Latisha's flushed face and said calmly, "Taking a shower."

“I heard a woman's voice! Who are you showering with?"

He replied with a single, taunting word. "Guess."

Yesenia was so furious she hung up. Her mind raced, panic setting in. Did Clifford have another woman? She knew Latisha was mute; you could hit her and she wouldn't make a sound. It couldn't be her.

The thought of a

new rival sent a

chill down her spine. After all these

years, she still hadn't been able to lock him down. If some other

woman had managed to get into his bed she had to be someone formidable.