Chapter 49

Latisha's breath caught in her throat. She instinctively lightened her steps, tiptoeing over to the nightstand to grab the charger.

She plugged the cord into her phone. "Just two minutes," she prayed. "That's all I need to get enough power to turn it on."

But fate had other plans. Less than a minute after she plugged it in, the sound of the shower stopped. She yanked the charger out and bolted for the door.

"Stop."

Clifford's voice froze her in her tracks. She stood rigid at the doorway, biting her lip, her fingers clutching the charger so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn't dare turn around.

She heard footsteps behind her, followed by a soft, low chuckle. The sound was loaded with meaning, and a hot flush of shame and embarrassment spread across her face.

"Turn around."

Her grip on the charger tightened. Steeling herself, she turned. The first thing she saw was his bare chest, a towel slung low around his waist. Droplets of water still clung to his skin, tracing slow paths down the lines of his abs and disappearing under the towel.

"Weren't you so determined to leave? What are you doing back here?"

Latisha held up the phone and charger for him to see.

The faint smile on Clifford's lips faded, leaving only the upward curve of his mouth, devoid of any warmth. His tone turned colder. "So proud, weren't you? That phone is mine, too. Who said you could take it?”

Latisha lowered her eyes, clutching the charger tightly. She needed to borrow

money, but without a phone, without any money... how could she possibly save this baby?

Clifford's words were cutting off her last escape route. A terrible doubt began to creep in. Could she really survive without him? The memory of last night was still raw, and just thinking about it sent a wave of fear through her.

A long-fingered hand appeared in front of her, palm up. His meaning was clear.

But she jerked her own hands behind her back, a futile attempt to hide the phone and charger.

The motion seemed to amuse Clifford. "Give it to me," he said, the laugh still in his voice.

Latisha closed her eyes for a second, then slowly extended her hand and placed the phone and charger in his palm.

Clifford turned the phone over in his fingers, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. "You can go now."

She lowered her head and walked out.

Clifford's thumb traced the edge of the phone's screen, his gaze fixed on her slender, retreating back. His eyes grew cold.

Outside the villa, a wave of grief and despair washed over her. The tears she had been holding back finally felt she clutched her stomach and sank onto the steps by the front door.

She couldn't protect this baby after all. She didn't deserve to. A person like her, who couldn't even keep herself alive, what right did she have to be a mother?

The baby inside her probably didn't want a mother like her anyway...

She buried her face in her knees and cried, silent sobs shaking her body. She

couldn't even scream, denied even that basic release.

She sat there all alone, the pale sunlight casting a long shadow, making her seem so small and fragile.

She had been walking all day and had barely eaten since yesterday. Exhausted and heartbroken, she didn't even realize when she drifted off.

She fell into a long dream, a reel of memories of her and Clifford playing out in her mind. The boy in her dream was cool and composed, tall and lean in a clean white shirt He waited for her at the school gates, his head tilted, his eyes crinkling with a smile. Even then, he had captured the attention of countless girls, but his eyes... his eyes had only been for her.

He was her hero, always there to help her when she was in trouble. His shadow loomed so large in her life that even looking up to him felt like a kind of sacrilege.

In the innocence of her youth, she didn't know what love was. She only knew that everywhere she looked, she saw his shadow. Every memory she treasured was a moment shared with him. But every time he introduced her by saying, "She's like my sister," it shattered alther foolish fantasies.