The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 270

Ziven and his men were keeping watch in the courtyard. What was once a silent yard now buzzed with a strange, tense energy.

She pushed herself up from the bed and glanced at the device on her ankle. It was still there. 14 hours remaining.

She went outside and saw Ziven squatting in the yard, anxiously smoking a cigarette. Latisha reached out and tapped his shoulder. Ziven turned, saw her, and immediately stubbed out his cigarette.

“Mrs. Lambert, you’re awake.”

Latisha nodded. She had nothing to say to him, so she just stood there. But Ziven, after some thought, couldn’t help but speak. “Mrs. Lambert, did you go with Santino willingly, or…”

Latisha pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

Ziven hadn’t expected an answer. He continued on his own, “This shareholders’ meeting is incredibly important to Mr. Lambert. He’s been preparing for it for a very long time.”

Latisha listened quietly. “Mrs. Lambert, have you ever thought about it? If Mr. Lambert really gave up everything and had nothing left, how could he protect you?”

Latisha froze, her gaze fixed on the tips of her shoes.

“His enemies would come for him. Not to mention Santino—he could manipulate and crush Mr. Lambert however he wanted. And you, too. It would be effortless for him. He could even end up in prison. If he’s in prison, what would you do on your own?”

“I may not know Mr. Lambert that well, but I can see that he cares about you a great deal. He hasn’t slept these past two days. He just sat in his study until dawn. Last night, he drove all the way out here to find you. If he truly didn’t care, he wouldn’t have come at all.”

“But you… you really broke his heart.”

Latisha looked up, meeting Ziven’s eyes. He spoke with sincerity; he wasn’t lying. She sat down next to him, her gaze distant as she stared at the farmhouse gate.

Ziven watched her for a moment before asking, “Mrs. Lambert, are you… still insisting on staying here?”

Latisha turned to him and pointed at her ankle.

If killing Santino was a viable option, Mr. Lambert probably would have done it himself that morning. Ziven didn’t know what he was worried about—whether someone else had a remote, or some other hidden secret.

Ziven said, “If Mr. Lambert goes to the shareholders’ meeting, who knows what kind of games Santino will play once tomorrow passes.”

...

In another room, Santino lay on the bed, idly playing with the remote, his expression unreadable.

The sky slowly darkened. The solar-powered lights in the courtyard flickered on, casting a warm glow over the secluded farmhouse. For a brief moment, it almost looked peaceful.

Ziven brought Latisha two bread rolls and a bottle of water. She took them with a nod of thanks. She squatted under the eaves, chewing on the bread mechanically, her mind lost in Ziven’s words.

Just then, a pair of headlights flashed outside the courtyard gate. Latisha stopped chewing, her eyes fixed on the wavering lights. A moment later, a Maybach pulled into the yard.