The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 285

Latisha’s pupils constricted. She tried to stand and run, but one of the men pushed her back down with a single finger. She hugged her knees to her chest, cowering in the corner like a trapped animal, burying her face in a desperate attempt to hide.

"I wonder if a mute screams when she’s having a good time."

"Let's find out. Never been with a mute before. Wonder what it feels like."

"Christ, she's just a woman. What's there to feel? Probably like a corpse."

"Corpses don't move."

Latisha trembled as their vile words washed over her. Through a gap between them, she caught sight of a knife on the table. Her heart pounded, and her fingers clenched into tight fists.

One man grabbed her ankle and dragged her forward while another pinned her hands. Her struggles were pathetic and futile against their strength.

"She really is a mute. Not even a peep."

Someone squeezed her chest, hard. Pain shot through her, and her vision went dark. A weak, strangled sound escaped her throat. The noise seemed to excite them.

"Holy crap, she can make sounds!" one of them shouted, as if he'd discovered a new continent.

Another pinched her leg, trying to coax another pained cry from her.

Latisha fought back, twisting her head and sinking her teeth into the wrist of the man holding her down.

"Hiss!" He yelped in pain and let go.

Latisha tried to scramble away, but in the next second, someone grabbed her by the hair and slammed her back down. They started tearing at her clothes, one man already unbuckling his pants. She bit her tongue, turning her head away. The memory of Clifford's disgusted gaze flashed in her mind, a sharp, piercing pain. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to bite down hard.

The burly man was about to attack when a gun was pressed to his forehead. Everyone froze. "Who… who are you?!"

Santino tilted his head but didn't answer. "Get out."

The men exchanged glances. The gun told them they were dealing with someone they couldn't handle. They silently dragged their unconscious friend off the floor and shuffled out of the room, only to be met by a group of men blocking the exit.

The background music still played, but in the now-empty room, it sounded strangely desolate.

Santino looked toward the sofa. Latisha was looking back at him. She was huddled in the corner, clutching her collar, her hair a mess. Her tear-filled eyes were fixed on him, holding a look of vulnerability he knew she was completely unaware of—a look that could drive a man to sin.

He watched her for a moment, then dragged his injured leg across the floor, limping over to sit beside her. He wore his signature smile, his gaze falling to the black ring on her ankle.

"You ran here looking for Clifford, so how come he’s not the one saving you?"