Chapter 57

"What are you doing back here so early in the morning?" Nikita asked, dusting herself off while helping Latisha to her feet.

Clifford's gaze swept over them, ignoring Nikita completely. His eyes locked on Latisha. "Where were you going?"

Nikita jumped in, her voice dripping with scorn. "What's it to you? She has her own two feet. She can go wherever she wants. Latisha isn't your pet! Does she need to report her every move to you?"

Clifford's gaze shifted to Nikita, his tone flat. "Nikita, don't think that having Killian as your brother gives you a free pass to test my patience."

Nikita was taken aback for a second, then laughed humorlessly. "Don't drag Killian into this. If you have a problem, deal with me directly. You think I'm afraid of you?"

A cold sneer touched Clifford's lips. "An ignorant, foolish woman like you wants to take Latisha away? If you weren't Killian's sister, do you really think you'd still be alive?"

"Who are you calling foolish and ignorant?"

Clifford didn't even bother to argue. He grabbed Latisha's arm and started pulling her toward the house.

Nikita, enraged, ran after them. "Clifford, you stop right there! You think you're so great? You're just an illegitimate son who rode his homewrecker mother's coattails. And now you're cheating on your wife, just like your father. The apple really doesn't fall far from the tree="

Before she could finish, Clifford spun around, grabbed her by the throat, and slammed her against the wall.

Nikita's head hit the concrete with a sickening thud. Her vision went black for a second, the rest of her words dying in her throat. She stared into Clifford's eyes. They were devoid of emotion, but a cold dread settled in her stomach.

Clifford's mother was not his father's first wife. She was the second. And when she married into the Lambert family, Clifford was already four years old. Rumors had always swirled that he was Wallace Lambert's illegitimate son, and that his mother had schemed her way into the marriage. Even now, you could still hear people whisper about it.

Latisha had never imagined Nikita would say it to his face.

Clifford let out a soft laugh. He tightened his grip on Nikita's neck. "You should be very thankful that you're a woman," he said, his voice dangerously low.

Nikita's face turned red as she gasped for air. She tried to fight back, but no sound would come out. Just as she was about to pass out, he released her.

Clifford didn't hit women. But he would kill them. In that moment, Nikita had felt his murderous intent. He was right. If she wasn't Killian's sister, she would already be dead.

Nikita was blunt and stubborn. She didn't have Yesenia's knack for manipulation; her every emotion was written on her face. And Yesenia, for all her arrogance, knew where the lines were. Nikita didn't. She spoke her mind, backed by the power of the Stafford family, which allowed her to do as she pleased. But it seemed that power meant nothing to Clifford.

Seeing him let go, Latisha breathed a sigh of relief. She shot Nikita a look, urging her to leave.

Nikita, realizing she had crossed a line, glared at Clifford but held her tongue She knew that if she pushed him any further, there was no telling what he might do. After all, she knew what she herself was capable of when she lost her temper.

Clifford ignored her and dragged Latisha into the house.

The television was still on, the sound of a commercial echoing in the vast, empty

living room.