Chapter 331

Santino Pearce couldn't help but laugh aloud again. He really wanted to share this amusing turn of events with Clifford, but if he showed him, the man would probably die of anger, wouldn't he?

Just picturing the spectacular look on Clifford's face brought another chuckle to Santino's lips.

Nearby, Ziven looked at the photos he had just taken. He debated whether or not to show them to Mr. Lambert. But remembering his boss's dark expression from earlier, Ziven immediately deleted the pictures, pretending he hadn't seen a thing.

Ziven didn't know the couple was on the verge of divorce again, so he didn't think much of it.

As a result, when Clifford finally returned home that night, the house was completely empty.

On the bed, however, sat a neatly folded set of clothes-the exact outfit Latisha had been wearing earlier that day.

Seeing those clothes made a muscle in Clifford's jaw twitch.

His phone buzzed. It was a message from Latisha.

[I changed out of the clothes, but I haven't washed them. You probably don't want them anymore anyway.]

[I didn't leave my phone behind because I was worried you wouldn't be able to reach me when it's time to sign the paperwork. Once you let me know when to sign the divorce papers, I'll return the phone to you.]

Clifford stared at the texts. Scrolling up, her previous messages painted a starkly different picture:

[Are you coming home for dinner?]

[Where are you?]

[What do you want to eat?]

Reading through the juxtaposition, Clifford dropped onto the sofa. A dark, cynical chuckle slipped from his lips.

He lit a cigarette, leaning his head back against the cushions. His gaze fixed emptily on a random spot in the room as he smoked in heavy silence.

Not long after, Ziven rushed in from the rain. Shaking the water off his coat at the entryway, he hurried into the living room.

He stopped dead in his tracks. The ashtray on the coffee table was practically overflowing with cigarette butts.

"Mr... Mr. Lambert?"

Clifford took a slow drag, his voice unnervingly calm. "Where is she?"

"Uh, let me check."

Ziven scrambled for his phone and stepped aside to make a call.

Ever since the incident with Santino Pearce, Latisha had a security detail assigned to her. But unless she was in immediate danger they usually didn't report in.

When Ziven heard the update on the other end, all the color drained from his face.

He shot a hesitant look at Clifford. "Um, Mr. Lambert... your wife..."

"She's with the youngest son of the Fowler family."

Clifford, cigarette pinched between his fingers, remained slouched against the sofa. He didn't even flinch. It was almost as if he had expected it.

As the seconds ticked by in agonizing silence, Ziven shifted uncomfortably, feeling like he was standing on hot coals.

After a long pause, Clifford suddenly spoke. "Have I... really been keeping too tight a leash on her?"

Ziven's lips twitched. *So you do know.*

Of course, he didn't dare say that out loud. Instead, he offered carefully, "You're only looking out for her. She can't speak. If she runs into trouble out there, she couldn't even call for help. Plus, she's so naive. Interacting with the outside world... it's too easy for her to get taken advantage of More importantly, it makes it easy for people with ulterior motives to use her against you."

Hearing that last sentence, Clifford let out a cold sneer. "Use her to threaten me?"

Realizing his slip-up, Ziven quickly backpedaled. "No... no one could ever threaten you."

If Ziven hadn't seen Clifford hurl himself off a cliff without a second thought for her sake, he might have actually believed that lie.

Clifford probably still thought he was doing a great job hiding his feelings. In reality his desperate concern for - Latisha was written in bold letters across his forehead.

But Latisha had been pushing his buttons lately, stripping away Clifford's composed

facade and forcing his true nature to the surface.

The downside was that sharks like Santino Pearce and Greyson Lambert were

starting to circle her.

"What should we do now, sir? Should we bring her back?"

Instead of answering, Clifford asked a seemingly unrelated question. "That Mortimer

Farley... didn't he take in a bunch of stray cats and dogs?"

"Yes... wait, what are you planning to do?"