ã€ŠThe Second Life of a Discarded Heiressã€‹


 Chapter 1

    Citrine had often wondered: if she could return to being three years old, would she ever have called Sawyer Iverson "Dad"?

    More than once, she''d fantasized about giving back the life he''d given her-she just never thought she''d actually get the chance.

    But she did die, truly and utterly, at the bright young age of twenty-eight.

    So when she opened her eyes again, it was a shock to find herself back at seventeen.

    Back then, she''d only been home from abroad for six months.

    Havencrest General Hospital.

    A girl in a faded ck jacket and jeans knelt alone beside a hospital bed. Her stubborn little face was pale as chalk, but her tightly clenched fists betrayed the storm inside her.

    "Citrine Iverson, apologize." Sawyer''s voice was cold and hard as steel.

    Just moments ago, Citrine had gotten into a fight with Jete Iverson. Jete had fallen down the stairs, and the security footage showed Citrine pushing her.

    No one believed her innocence.

    "It wasn''t me." Citrine slowly lifted her head, her words echoing what she''d said in herst life.

    Facing the father she hadn''t seen in years, there was not a hint of warmth in her voice. She sounded as if she were speaking to a stranger.

    Before her words had even faded, Sawyer''s hand came down hard across her face.

    Her head snapped to the side, and bright blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

    He hadn''t held back.

    "Lies-nothing but lies. Even now, you refuse to admit it. How could I have a daughter like you?" Sawyer''s voice shook with disappointment and disgust. Citrine met his gaze and finally saw the cold contempt in his eyes.

    If Sawyer were a judge, she''d already be sentenced to death.

    Suddenly, she let out a bitterugh. "Lucky I''m not your real daughter, or you''d really have something to be ashamed of."

    "What did you say?" Sawyer raised his hand again, but this time, it hovered in the air, uncertain.

    Citrine stared him down, her eyes cool and steady. "Don''t expect an apology. And if you keep pushing, I might just take the me and be done with it."

    The Iverson family had killed any love she''d ever had for them long ago. Sawyer was momentarily stunned.

    "What''s gotten into you?" He looked at Citrine as if she were a stranger. "I sent you abroad for years, and youe back even more arrogant and difficult than before."

    She''d been an angel as a child. But ever since she returned from overseas, everything about her had changed.

    She constantly shed with her sister, always fighting for attention. She''d be sharp, selfish, prickly-impossible to reach.

    In the past six months, Sawyer''s disappointment had only deepened.

    Citrine met her father''s scolding re and, in that moment, finally understood: Jete was his real daughter. She never had been.

    Across the room, the atmosphere around the hospital bed waspletely different-warm, bustling, filled with people.

    Jete was the center of attention, surrounded by loved ones, basking in their concern and affection. She only had to stand there, and everyone adored her. How ridiculous.

    Citrine had died without ever knowing what that kind of love felt like.

    She stood up from the bedside, brushing invisible dust from her knees with a frown.

    "No need to interrupt your family''s little drama. I''ll take my leave." Citrine cast a cold nce at the crowd, then turned and walked out without looking back.

 Chapter 3

    Sawyer''s expression shifted instantly. He shot to his feet. "Are you out of your mind?"

    "How could youy a hand on your own sister?"-

    Striding forward, he positioned himself protectively in front of the hospital bed, his voice gentle as he tried to soothe Jete. "Don''t be scared, Jete. I''m here. I won''t let anyone hurt you."

    "Completely insane," one of the Iverson brothers muttered, and both moved to block Citrine''s path, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

    Watching them close ranks around Jete, Citrine let out a bitterugh. What, did they think she was some kind of viin? Was she supposed to be the wicked stepsister straight out of a soap opera?

    In this family drama, Jete always yed the part of the pure, fragile flower, while the Iversons lined up as her devoted guardians.

    Citrine arched an eyebrow, her interest fading fast. She shot the group a cold look, her voice frosty. "If any of you try crossing me again, I won''t hesitate to show you just how crazy I can get."

    She was crazy, all right-driven mad by the Iversons themselves.

    Jete, face buried in Aline''s arms, whimpered, her voice trembling with usation. "Did I do something wrong? Please, don''t hate me..."

    "Don''t call me your sister. I have no family here," Citrine snapped, disgust darkening her gaze.

    "Please... sister..." Jete''s eyes brimmed with tears, and within seconds, she was sobbing as if her world had shattered.

    Citrine clicked her tongue in annoyance. "God, Jete, aren''t you tired of this act? You''ve been pulling the same stunt since we were kids, and these idiots still fall for it every time."

    Not giving anyone a chance to respond, Citrine pressed on, "If you really want me out of this family, just keep your mouth shut."

    Jete bit her lip, but stayed silent.

    The atmosphere in the hospital room grew icy, tension thick in the air.

    Citrine spoke up, her tone resolute. "Every cent I''ve spent here I''ll wire back to Mr. Iverson''s ount."

    Sawyer blinked, taken aback, his frown deepening. "What are you trying to do?"

    Then, as realization dawned, his voice grew sharp. "Don''t forget who put a roof over your head all these years. Guess I was blind to have raised a thankless brat who''d dare turn on my own daughter."

    He''d spoiled her too much; made her impossible to handle.

    Citrine let out a bitterugh. "You''re right. I''m just the adopted daughter-not your flesh and blood."

    "After all, who else but you would send their own little girl overseas for five years and never look back? Just left me to fend for myself." Bitterness twisted her words as she remembered those years abroad-how many times had she begged Sawyer to bring her home?

    He never came.

    "You hate me," Sawyer said, seeing the fury in her eyes. His chest tightened with a mix of guilt and resentment.

    His gaze lingered on the hearing aid in Citrine''s left ear, but the pang of guilt faded quickly as he remembered the past. "Don''t forget why you were sent away. That was your fault. I did it for your own good." His voice was icy, his eyes steely with warning.

    Citrine felt a chill run through her, but she forced her emotions down.

    "I''m moving out today." Her voice was steady, determined. The Iverson family didn''t deserve her tears.

    "Mr. Iverson, whatever bond we had as father and daughter ends here."

    The whole family stared at her, convinced she''d finally lost her mind.

    The Iversons weren''t nobodies in Havencrest. Even if she did nothing for the rest

    of her life, being part of their family guaranteed a life of luxury and ease the kind of future most people could only dream about.

 Chapter 4

    That idiot Citrine just decided she didn''t want it, and that was that.

    Jete watched the scene unfold, her eyes glinting with calction.-

    "Sis, I know you''re just joking. Please don''t be mad at Dad. It''s my fault I''m the reason you''re upset."

    What a maniptive little snake. Give this girl an Oscar already.

    Well, since I''ve been given a second chance at life, anyone who crosses me is going to pay for it.

    With a cold expression, Citrine met everyone''s gaze and suddenly stepped forward,nding a sharp p across Jete''s face.

    She grabbed Jete by the throat, fingers tightening. "Didn''t anyone ever teach you not to interrupt when someone else is speaking?"

    "If you keep pissing me off, I''m not leaving."

    Jete''s face turned an ugly shade of purple, her eyes wide with panic as she struggled for breath. For the first time, real fear flickered in her eyes.

    Citrine finally let go, and the whole Iverson family seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

    Norton and Clifford hadn''t managed to protect Jete, and both their faces were stormy with anger.

    Seeing his little sister get pped¡ªtwice, no less¡ªand nearly choked, Clifford was done holding back.

    "Citrine, are you looking for trouble?" He swung his fist straight at Citrine''s face.

    As his punch came flying, Citrine sidestepped smoothly and kicked him hard in the stomach.

    She didn''t hold back.

    Clifford let out a grunt and copsed like a rag doll, sprawled on the floor, coughing up blood, unable to move.

    "Pathetic," Citrine sneered, watching him struggle, a hint of a smile curling at her lips.

    In her past life, rumors flew all over Havencrest about how the Iverson family''s eldest daughter was arrogant, vicious, and stupid. But no one knew how obedient she''d been, how desperately she''d tried to protect every member of the Iverson family.

    The truth was, the Iversons would never ept her.

    The resolve on Citrine''s face left Sawyer momentarily stunned.

    He couldn''t even bring himself to scold her for hitting Jete and Clifford. "You... you really mean to cut ties with me?" he asked, voice tight with agitation. For a moment, he felt as though he was about to lose something truly important. "Yes," Citrine answered without hesitation. She couldn''t care less what they thought. Her legal documents were in her own hands now; their approval meant nothing.

    Sawyer gave a bitterugh. "Without the Iverson family, you''re nobody. I won''t give you another cent are you sure this is what you want?"

    "Absolutely," Citrine replied, her voice steady.

    "Get out! Walk out that door and don''t ever think abouting back!" Sawyer roared, hurling the bowl in his hand against the floor.

    He didn''t really believe the girl would go through with it. She was just seventeen, no family to turn to-she''d never survive without him.

    Citrine stared at the shattered bowl on the floor, unfazed.

    Sawyer had adopted her when she was three. In the beginning, he''d loved her dearly. But a yearter, when he brought Aline and his long-lost biological daughter home, everything changed.

    They''d once shared happy moments as father and daughter¡ªbut now, all of that was gone, shattered beyond repair, just like the bowl on the floor.

 Chapter 5

    After leaving, Citrine dragged her suitcase straight to The Carmichael Group.

    In her previous life, she''d only learned by ident-from Aline''s slip of the tongue -that her biological father was Raymond Carmichael. But by then, she''d lost all hope for family ties and had never even considered seeking him out.

    But now, she was still underage. She needed a legal guardian.

    Security at The Carmichael Group was notoriously tight. Without an appointment, there was no way inside. Citrine knew this all too well, so she simply settled herself outside the entrance to wait.

    Dusk deepened, and the city lights flickered on.

    At first, the security guards on shift tried to shoo her away. But after noticing the quiet, stubborn way she just sat there, they eventually gave up.

    Citrine stared nkly at the steady stream of peopleing and going, lost in thought.

    Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream shattered the night, followed by a heavy thud that snapped Citrine out of her daze.

    "Mr. Carmichael, please, I''m sorry! Have mercy, I was forced into this. If I didn''t hand over the project files, they said they''d kill my son!"

    A middle-aged man was sprawled on the floor, groveling and bowing so desperately that blood from his forehead stained the marble tiles.

    "Mr. Easton, what are you talking about? When have I ever made things difficult for you?" The man in front of him-Raymond Carmichael-let a cold, faint smile y at the edges of his lips, never reaching his eyes.

    "Mr. Carmichael, I''m begging you. I know I was wrong. I''ll do anything to make it up-even die, if that''s what it takes. Just... please, spare my family," Easton pleaded, still on his knees.

    But Raymond''s heart was ice.

    "Then go and die," he said tly.

    Raymond stared down at Easton like he was nothing but an insect. "You should have thought about the consequences before you betrayed me."

    Easton''s heart froze; despair overwhelmed him, and heshed out in desperation. "Raymond, you''re a monster! You''ll get what''sing to you. Someday, your own children will suffer in hell because of you."

    "I won''t have children," Raymond replied without a hint of emotion, waving a hand dismissively. "Enough noise. Get him out of here."

    At hismand, the bodyguards hauled Easton away.

    Citrine couldn''t help but shiver.

    She''d seen that chiseled, handsome face before¡ªmore than once, sshed across financial news magazines. Raymond Carmichael was more striking than any actor she''d ever seen, even at thirty-seven, without a single mark of age marring his features.

    She locked her gaze on his tall, imposing figure. Steeling herself, Citrine picked up her suitcase and hurried after him.

    "Raymond," she called out softly, her young voice still holding a trace of innocence.

    She wore simple clothes, but her face was startlingly beautiful. Raymond had seen his fair share of pretty girls, but the sight of this one still caught him off guard -her beauty was unforgettable.

    But no matter how lovely, he still couldn''t stand kids.

    He frowned and his voice was cold. "You talking to me, kid?"

    Citrine looked him straight in the eye, her tone t as she introduced herself: "My name is Citrine. I''m your daughter."

    Thest two words made Raymond''s expression darken; something dangerous shed in his eyes.

    Another con artist, he thought.

    His voice turned icy, tinged with impatience. "I''ve never even been married. How could I possibly have a daughter your age?"

    Citrine didn''t flinch. "I''m not lying. I really am your daughter. If you want, you can have a DNA test done."

    Raymond studied her, momentarily thrown off. Those eyes... they looked strangely familiar, as if he''d seen them somewhere before.

    But he quickly masked his reaction, his gaze narrowing and turning even colder. "Who sent you?"

    The sharpness in his eyes was like a de, cutting straight through Citrine''s heart. The glimmer in her own eyes dimmed.

    She kept her voice steady. "No one sent me. I''m telling the truth."

    Seeing no change in his expression, Citrine quickly added, "I can make my own money. You don''t have to support me."

    She was under no illusions that Raymond would ever care for her, but he was still her best chance to finally break free from the Iverson family.

    Calming herself, Citrine shifted into negotiation mode.

    "I know The Carmichael Group has been working on medical robotics for five

    years now, but hasn''t made any real progress."

    That made Raymond''s expression waver for the first time.

    The medical robotics project was one of The Carmichael Group''s most tightly- guarded secrets-never made public, and each attempt so far had ended in failure. Only a handful of core staff inside thepany knew any details. He eyed the girl with new wariness. "How do you know about that?" Citrine held his gaze, giving away nothing. She''d guessed as much, drawing on her past life as a powerhouse in the business world-making these kinds of deductions came naturally to her.

    Noting his hesitation, she pressed on: "I have the patent for this project. You''ll be interested. I can sell it to The Carmichael Group."

    Raymond''s eyes shed with shock. He looked at Citrine again, doubt flickering across his face. She was just a kid-how could she possibly know any of this? Maybe she''d overheard something from someone else.

    Realizing he''d almost let himself get drawn in by this strange girl, he gave a short, dismissiveugh.

    "Kids should focus on their studies. Stay out of things that don''t concern you." "My time is valuable."

    And at that moment, Citrine finally understood: he was never going to believe her.

 Chapter 6

    There was a heavy silence, stretching on for what felt like forever.

    Suddenly, an idea flickered in her eyes, steely and resolute. "You might not believe me," she said, "but the Carmichael family might."

    "You''re threatening me?" Raymond let out a short, incredulousugh.

    In all his thirty-some years, no one had ever dared to threaten him¡ªleast of all a scrawny slip of a girl.

    But Raymond knew his father, Weston Carmichael, valued profit above all. The elder Carmichael was obsessed with the medical robotics project, and whether or not there was a blood tie, just that project alone would make the old man keep this girl around.

    She''d clearly done her homework on the Carmichael family beforeing here. Raymond studied the child before him, his gaze darkening. Clever kid.

    Adler, standing nearby, barely dared to breathe. He''d never seen anyone so reckless as to threaten President Carmichael-especially not a child.

    He could only hope his boss would show her some mercy.

    "So what if I am threatening you?" Citrine didn''t bother to deny it. She knew she wasn''t above using whatever means she had.

    Her childhood had taught her: you only survived if you fought with everything you had.

    Those clear eyes locked onto him, and a sharp, unbidden pain twisted in Raymond''s chest. The feeling¡ªso out of his control-irritated him.

    His chest had been hurting a lottely. He''d even gone to the hospital several times, but the doctors could never find anything wrong.

    He grew impatient. "Do you have any idea what happens to people who cross me?"

    "If you want to live, get lost. Now."

    He wasn''t about to stoop to a fight with a child.

    Outside, rain had started to fall at some point. Standing alone in the downpour, Citrine stared at the well-dressed man under his umbre, suddenly all too aware of her own wretchedness.

    She understood perfectly well-she had nothing. If Raymond wanted her dead, she wouldn''t make it out alive.

    Her life was as insignificant as an ant''s.

    "Raymond! It''s against thew to abandon your child!" she shouted at him, her voice trembling with anger.

    Realizing Raymond would never take her home, Citrine turned and strode into the pouring rain, her shoulders squared with stubborn resolve.

    After a day full of usations and now this final rejection, all her strength seemed to drain away.

    As her thin figure disappeared into the downpour, Raymond''s chest seized with pain worse than ever before.

    The desperate eyes of the girl in his dreams blurred together with the stubborn stare of the girl who''d just walked away.

    Adler nced after her, unable to hide his sympathy. "Sir... are you really just going to let her go?"

    Raymond winced, fighting the pain, and frowned. "What else am I supposed to do?"

    Adler couldn''t help but mutter, "It''ste, she could get into trouble out there..." Raymond hesitated, then waved a hand, his voice oddly strained. "Fine. Go after her."

    Citrine wandered into a 24-hour convenience store after leaving. She sat there, watching the ebb and flow of strangers outside, lost in thought.

    A voice beside her snapped her back to reality.

    "Miss, President Carmichael would like to see you."

    Citrine''s memory was sharp-she recognized the man as Raymond''s assistant.

    So, he was taking her back? Was Raymond actually afraid of going to jail?

    She followed Adler to the sleek ck limousine waiting outside.

    Raymond sat beside her, rubbing his forehead, looking pale and drawn. Citrine nced at him, then quickly looked away.

    Sensing her gaze, Raymond turned to look at her.

    But the first thing he noticed wasn''t the stubborn set of her jaw; it was the discreet ck hearing aid in her ear.

    His expression darkened and a stabbing pain shot through his chest. Before he could think, he blurted out, "Your ear-?"

    "Can''t hear anymore," Citrine replied, her voice t as she shrugged. Whether she truly didn''t care, only she knew.

    Raymond pressed his lips together, choosing not to say anything else.

    The car was eerily quiet for a long while, until Citrine broke the silence. "I''m not lying. We can do a DNA test."

    "Fine." This time, Raymond didn''t refuse.

    They agreed, and went straight to a hospital owned by the Carmichael Group for the paternity test.

    Two hourster, the results were in: they were, without a doubt, father and daughter.

    Raymond stared at the report, stunned, suddenly at a loss for words.

    The Carmichael Group''sbs never made mistakes.

    He''d considered every possibility-except this one: that she was actually his biological daughter.

    "You have my word," he said finally, all business but much gentler than before. "Since you''re my daughter, I''ll take responsibility for you."

    Citrine met his gaze, her eyes unreadable. "Don''t worry. I won''t be any trouble." She wasn''t naive enough to think that being acknowledged as his child meant he''d care for her.

    No one in this world would ever love her.

    After the test, Citrine apanied Raymond back to Grandeur Waters Estates.

    This was the most prestigious neighborhood in Havencrest, home to the city''s wealthiest and most influential.

    The Iversons'' address might have been impressive, but it couldn''tpare to Grandeur Waters. Money alone wasn''t enough to live there-you needed status, connections, and power.

 Chapter 7

    Citrine observed her surroundings in silence, careful not to let her expression betray a single thought.

    Raymond''s vi was a study in gray and white-minimalist, elegant, and yet, unmistakably opulent. Every piece of furniture and d¨¦cor looked like it belonged in a museum rather than a home, and the few scattered objects on the table were arranged so deliberately that it was hard to imagine anyone actually lived here.

    "Pick any room you like upstairs," Raymond said, gesturing vaguely toward the staircase. "If you need anything, ask Butler Ismael or Adler." It was clear he had no intention of getting personally involved in raising a child.

    "Thank you," Citrine replied quietly, polite and reserved as she trailed behind him.

    She knew better than to expect any father-daughter closeness between them. That just wasn''t in the cards.

    But she didn''t resent Raymond. In truth, she was simply using him as a way out of the Iverson family, nothing more.

    After a few brief instructions, Raymond left with Adler in tow.

    The DNA test had confirmed it-she was his biological daughter. But that didn''t mean there weren''t other forces at y behind her sudden appearance.

    As he considered this, a cold, calcting glint flickered across Raymond''s face. "Adler, look into that girl," he ordered.

    Adler''s stomach tightened. He hesitated, then ventured, "Sir, she''s your own daughter. Aren''t you being a little... too cautious?" Maybe even too harsh. After all, she was just a teenage girl-innocent at that age.

    "Are you questioning my judgment?" Raymond shot him a razor-sharp look, pure warning in his eyes.

    Adler nearly forgot to breathe. "Of course not, sir." He didn''t dare argue further.

    He regretted speaking up the moment the words left his mouth. No one ever questioned the boss''s decisions-let alone changed them.

    He really must have lost his mind.

    "Get out," Raymond said, his voice growing even colder as he looked away.

    Adler wiped the sweat from his brow and hurried out of the office as fast as he could.

    ***

    Grandeur Waters Residences.

    Citrine had no idea a storm was brewing elsewhere because of her.

    The Carmichael household was usually quiet, but Butler Ismael was genuinely pleased that his employer had finally brought home his own daughter. And with good reason¡ªthe girl was so endearing that Ismael''s heart nearly melted on the spot.

    "If you need anything, Miss, please don''t hesitate toe to me," he said warmly. Citrine sensed his kindness and nodded politely.

    She asked offhandedly, "Do you know when Raymond-um, when my father usuallyes home?"

    Ismael hesitated. The truth was, Raymond''sings and goings were unpredictable; it wasn''t unusual for him to be away for months at a time. After a moment''s thought, he replied, "It''s hard to say, Miss. The master onlyes home a few times a month-his work keeps him very busy, and most nights he sleeps at the office."

    Seeing the look on her face, he added quickly, "But if you ever miss him, you can always call. Here''s his private number."

    He recited the number for her.

    Citrine didn''t really want it, but seeing Ismael''s genuine concern, she didn''t refuse.

    Back in her room, Citriney on the bed, staring at the number for a good ten minutes before finally deciding not to save it in her phone.

    ***

    Elsewhere, Raymond sat in his office, brow furrowed.

    "You''re saying that after seeing your daughter, your heart symptoms have gotten worse?" Calvin, his private physician, looked more serious than ever. He''d never encountered anything quite like this before. All previous tests had shown that Raymond''s heart was in perfect condition.

    Raymond hated this loss of control.

    "Yes," he confirmed. "Whenever I see her upset, the sensation in my chest gets worse."

    Calvin''s tone was grave. "Raymond, your condition might be connected to your daughter."

    "But I only found out about her today," Raymond said, baffled.

    Calvin sighed, offering his professional advice. "Raymond, I really think you should see a therapist."

    Raymond didn''t answer.

    ***

    Night fell.

    Citrine had just put on a face mask and was about to fall asleep when her phone buzzed with a new message.

    [Photo]

    [Mr. Adler: Miss, please pick whichever high school you''d like¡ªwe''ll arrange your enrollment.]

    Citrine opened the photo. It was a list of top schools in Havencrest, a mix of prestigious public and private academies.

    She nced at it for only a moment before closing her phone.

    [CICI: Thank you, Mr. Adler, but that won''t be necessary.]

    She had no intention of transferring.

    After all, she was already attending Havencrest Preparatory Academy-the best school in the city, and, more importantly, the only one that truly valued academic achievement over everything else.

 Chapter 8

    Moreover, Jete was still there.

    Meanwhile, the Havencrest Preparatory Academy forum had already exploded. Two videos were spreading like wildfire across the school''s website.

    One showed Citrine on her knees in the hospital, surrounded by people berating her.

    The other captured Jete falling down the stairs-just as Citrine reached out her hand.

    The forum was flooded with viciousments.

    > "Wow, I always thought Citrine was shameless enough, freeloading off the Iversons, but I didn''t think she could stoop any lower."

    > "No wonder a girl with no parents could do something so disgusting."

    >

    > "The Iversons took her in and she tries to kill their real daughter? This is literally

    the story of the farmer and the viper."

    >

    > "Trash. Absolute trash."

    >

    > "Why isn''t someone like this just kicked out of school for good?!"

    > "No wonder she''s deaf in one ear-karma."

    >

    > "Why did the Iversons even bother adopting her? She''s a total waste, not even worthy to lick Jete''s shoes."

    > "Heard the Iversons finally snapped, kicked her out, and cut all ties."

    >

    > "Is that for real?"

    >

    > "Totally confirmed."

    >

    > "Serves her right. She brought this on herself."

    >

    > "Filth like this has no ce at our school."

    The next morning, Ismael had already arranged for a driver to take her to school. Citrine didn''t refuse.

    Junior year, Science ss 8.

    A cluster of students sat together, heatedly discussing thetest drama from the school forum.

    The moment Citrine the notorious subject of the gossip-walked into the ssroom, all conversation stopped. Every head turned her way.

    She was used to it by now.

    With a wry tug at the corner of her mouth, Citrine swept a mocking nce over the curious stares, then made her way to her seat as if nothing had happened.

    No sooner had she sat down than her desk mate nudged her arm, speaking in a cool, even voice. "Citrine, you should check the school forum."

    Her desk mate wore her hair in a sharp bob, her features striking and confident. This was the first time she had ever looked Citrine directly in the eye.

    She was also one of the very few people at school who had ever shown her any kindness.

    "Thanks." Citrine managed a small smile.

    Amelia Lawson looked momentarily stunned, almost flustered. "N-no problem."

    Oh my god, she actually talked to me. She even smiled-she''s so cute, I just want to squeeze her cheeks.

    Citrine opened the school forum and scrolled through thetest posts, but quickly lost interest.

    Amelia, misreading Citrine''s indifference as hurt, tried tofort her. "Don''t listen to them. They don''t know you at all."

    Citrine paused. "You believe me?"

    Amelia nodded. "Seeing isn''t always believing."

    She would never forget the day her father, drunk and belligerent, had stormed into the school and even tried to hit her. Every other student hadughed at her- except Citrine, who''d stepped in and chased her father away. To Amelia, Citrine was a ray of light.

    Even with the whole school trashing Citrine online, Amelia never doubted her for a second.

    Citrine wasn''t used to unconditional trust. She remembered, a little wistfully, that her desk mate hadforted her like this in her previous life, too. The warmth in her heart surprised her. "Thank you for believing in me." Kindness like this was rare and precious.

    At lunch, Citrine finally gave in to Amelia''s enthusiasm and went with her to the cafeteria.

    No sooner had they sat down than they spotted Jete across the room, surrounded by a crowd.

    "Citrine, isn''t that your brother over there?" Amelia''s tone changed. She''d never liked Citrine''s brother-he''d always treated Citrine badly-but for some reason, Citrine adored him.

    "I see him," Citrine replied, unbothered, continuing to eat as if it meant nothing. "You''re not going over?" Amelia was surprised.

    It was a fair question. In the past, Citrine would have rushed over without a second thought.

    Citrine replied evenly, "No. I won''t anymore. The Iversons and I¡ªwe''re done."

    Amelia remembered the rumors on the school forum about the Iversons cutting ties with Citrine, but she''d never really believed them until now.

    She couldn''t help but worry. "So... what will you do now?"

    Citrine couldn''t help but smile at Amelia''s anxious face. "Rx. I''ve found my real dad."

    Only then did Amelia let out a sigh of relief.

 Chapter 9

    Clifford had spotted Citrine a while ago. Normally, she''d have rushed over, eager to please him; but today, she didn''t even spare him a nce.

    "Well, look who''s grown a backbone," Clifford scoffed under his breath.

    He couldn''t stop thinking about how, just yesterday, she''d dared to kick him and call him worthless. His face darkened, his mood shifting from irritation to outright anger.

    "Oh, Clifford, isn''t that your littlepdog over there?" Laird followed Clifford''s gaze, a mocking smile ying on his lips. "She''s got some nerve now. Howe she isn''t glued to your side today?"

    Gideon cast a fleeting, indifferent nce at Citrine before turning to Jete, serving her food with obvious affection.

    Gideon and Laird were Clifford''s closest friends-they were thick as thieves, practically inseparable. They treated Jete, Clifford''s younger sister, as if she were a precious gem.

    Thinking back to yesterday''s humiliation, Clifford simmered with resentment. Hearing his friends mock Citrine, he didn''t bother to stop them; in fact, he took a bit of twisted pleasure in it.

    Maybe it was time Citrine learned her lesson.

    He let out a cold huff. "She deserves to be ignored for a few days. Let her stew in it; she''lle crawling back, begging for forgiveness."

    Jete nced at her brother, noting his obvious displeasure, and a sly smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

    "Clifford, I''m sure Citrine is just upset with me. Let me go apologize to her," Jete said sweetly.

    Gideon reached over and gently patted Jete''s head, his tone warm and doting. "You did nothing wrong, Jete. She''s the one who crossed the line. You''re just too kind-hearted, that''s all."

    Laird chimed in, "Exactly. Why should you, the real deal, have to apologize to someone like her?"

    Clifford gave his sister an approving look, ruffling her hair affectionately, his dislike for Citrine only growing.

    "There''s no reason for you to apologize. She''s the one at fault if anyone''s apologizing, it should be her, and to you."

    He paused, then added, "Don''t worry, Jete. Give it a few days-Citrine wille around. I''ll make sure she apologizes to you."

    "It''s alright, Clifford. As long as shees home, I''ll be happy," Jete replied, her eyes wide and innocent.

    Clifford''s heart softened at his thoughtful sister, and his exasperation with Citrine only deepened.

    But Laird wasn''t done. A flicker of malice crossed his face.

    He stood up and strode over to Citrine, looking down at her with a smug authority. "Citrine, Jete''s thirsty. Go get her a coffee."

    "Don''t you think you''re going too far?" Amelia shot to her feet, her expression icy. She''d never liked how Clifford and his friends ordered Citrine around.

    Laird jabbed a finger at Amelia''s forehead and sneered, "And who asked for your opinion? Know your ce."

    Suddenly, Citrine set down her fork and, without hesitation, pped Laird hard across the face.

    It was swift-almost too fast to see.

    "If you have something to say, say it. Keep your hands to yourself," she snapped, quietly stepping in front of Amelia, shielding her from Laird''s re.

    Laird clutched his cheek, stunned into silence for a long moment. When he finally found his voice, it was hoarse with rage. "You crazy bitch. How dare you hit me?"

    Everyone at the table stared, wide-eyed with shock.

    Citrine had always been obedient to Clifford and his friends, going along with whatever they wanted, never talking back or resisting. She might have disliked Jete, but she''d never stood up to the rest of them.

    Now, the once-docile girl had grown a spine-and ws.

    "So what if I hit you?" Citrine scanned the group, her gaze full of disdain.

    She looked them up and down, then let out a coldugh. "What''s the matter? Are your hands broken, or are your legs not working?"

    "You''re just Clifford''s obedient mutt. What are you acting so high and mighty for?" Citrine''s words were like a dagger, aimed straight at Laird''s pride.

    Laird''s face twisted with fury; there was nothing he hated more than being called Clifford''spdog.

    He red at her, murderous intent in his eyes. "Watch your mouth, Citrine."

    Then, shooting Clifford a look, he added with a sneer, "She won''t listen to me, but she''ll listen to you, right, Clifford?"

    Still brooding over yesterday, Clifford snapped, "Go get the coffee. If Jete doesn''t get her drink today, you''ll regret it."

 Chapter 10

    His sense of entitlement was so tant, it was almostical-like a petty thug who thought the world owed him.

    This wasn''t the first time Citrine had seen that smug expression on his face. It repulsed her. She honestly couldn''t understand how she''d ever obeyed his every word, desperate for even the smallest scrap of familial affection.

    "And who do you think you are? What gives you the right to order me around- just because you''re the Iverson family''s adopted son?"

    With a half-smile, Citrine gave the group a cool once-over, then tugged Amelia by the arm and headed back to ss.

    The others were left rooted to the spot, looking dumbfounded.

    Clifford was only eighteen-an age where pride meant everything. Now, exposed in front of everyone as the family''s adopted son, his face twisted with humiliation.

    A few students hanging around couldn''t resist poking their noses in. "Clifford, is it true? Are you really just the Iversons'' adopted kid?"

    Clifford went pale, ring daggers at the speaker.

    Laird stormed forward and gave the kid a hard kick. "Mind your own business. Get lost."

    Pathetic-can''t even handle a little heat, Jete thought with a sneer. Still, she put on aforting face. "No matter what anyone says, Clifford, you''ll always be my brother."

    Laird and Gideon exchanged a look and chimed in, "Yeah, Clifford will always be one of us."

    Clifford looked at his friends, feeling a rush of gratitude that eased his anger.

    All in all, apart from that unpleasant little drama with Clifford and his crew, Citrine''s day went pretty smoothly.

    When she returned to the Carmichael house, Raymond was nowhere to be seen -which suited Citrine just fine.

    Bored, she decided to upload her first novel, *Innocent*, to a website-a story she''d started writing in her previous life while living abroad, but had never published. Now that fate had given her a second chance, she wanted to try making different choices.

    Afterwards, she yed around on herputer for a while.

    Days like this went on for a few weeks, and Citrine found herself getting used to the new routine.

    One evening around eight, she suddenly felt hungry and crept downstairs. After rummaging through the fridge, she grabbed a slice of bread and a yogurt, nning to slip back upstairs. But as she passed through the kitchen, the living room lights flicked on.

    At this hour, the housekeeper and cleaning staff would''ve already headed home. Was Raymond back?

    Citrine stuffed her snacks into her pockets and strolled out of the kitchen, trying to look casual.

    She came face to face with a pair of deep, unreadable eyes. Her heart skipped a beat.

    "You''re back?" Citrine tried to sound nonchnt, though she had nothing to feel guilty about.

    "This is my house. Why wouldn''t Ie back?" Raymond''s gaze drifted to her overstuffed pockets. His voice was cool and unreadable. "Hungry?"

    "Yeah," Citrine admitted, rubbing the back of her neck, a little embarrassed.

    It was the first time Raymond had really looked at his daughter. She was far too thin.

    Her skin was pale as snow-maybe she''d been sick. Her features were delicate and elegant, almost regal, untouched by the world, like a princess out of a fairytale. Even at her young age, the promise of beauty was already there.

    Raymond studied her face-so like his own in certain ways¡ªand found his thoughts drifting to what Adler had uncovered that day.

    The kid hadn''t had it easy with the Iversons. She''d been shipped overseas at just eleven.

    Raymond couldn''t help but drawparisons to himself. As head of the Carmichael Group, every bit of his power and status hade at a cost. Growing up as a Carmichael meant no real childhood, no warmth-only ambition and the relentless pursuit of power.

    He and his brother had endured brutal training from an early age, always held to impossible standards. Failure meant punishment. To secure the role of heir, he and his brother became rivals-sometimes savage, sometimes subtle.

    "Let''s go out and get something to eat." Raymond surprised himself with how gentle his tone sounded, seeing the pale, fragile girl in front of him.

    Citrine hesitated, but in the end, she didn''t refuse.

 Chapter 11

    **At The Sterling Room.**

    "Mr. Carmichael, wee!"

    Manager Larkin hurried over at a brisk trot, his attitude nothing short of reverent.

    His eyes immediatelynded on the person standing behind Raymond. The girl was strikingly beautiful-so much so that Larkin couldn''t help but steal a few extra nces before catching himself. Realizing hispse in professionalism, he quickly lowered his gaze and pretended not to have noticed.

    President Carmichael had never brought a woman here before, and with how at ease the girl seemed, Larkin couldn''t help but specte about their rtionship.

    Raymond, catching the direction of his thoughts, shot him a cold nce and offered a rare exnation. "She''s my daughter."

    Larkin nearly broke into a cold sweat as he realized his mistake. Desperate to recover, he blurted out, "Of course, I should have known. She takes after you so much, Mr. Carmichael."

    Mortified by his earlier assumptions, he felt his nerves fray,pletely unaware that a sheen of sweat had appeared on his brow.

    Luckily, Raymond seemed disinterested in making a scene.

    Citrine shot Raymond a surprised look. She hadn''t expected him to acknowledge her as his daughter in front of others.

    Larkin quickly turned to her and apologized, "Ms. Carmichael, I''m terribly sorry for my rudeness just now."

    "It''s alright," Citrine replied with a polite nod.

    She understood Larkin hadn''t meant any offense.

    After showing them to a table with the best view in the house, Larkin quietly excused himself.

    Sitting here, one only had to look up to see a nket of stars-no wonder The Sterling Room was the most sought-after restaurant in Havencrest. The scenery was simply breathtaking.

    Now, father and daughter sat across from each other, both a little awkward, as if neither could quite believe they were here together. No one would have guessed that the same two who had exchanged such sharp words at their first meeting were now sharing a table in peace.

    "Order whatever you''d like," Raymond said naturally, sliding the menu toward Citrine.

    She picked it up and made a few selections at random.

    "I''m done," she said, passing the menu back across the table.

    Raymond nced at her choices, then looked up at her. "That''s all you want?"

    Citrine nodded, a little bewildered.

    All vegetarian, he noted. No wonder she''s so thin.

    Raymond added a few meat dishes to the order himself before handing the menu to their server.

    When the food arrived, he quickly noticed Citrine sticking only to the vegetables, never touching the meat. He frowned ever so slightly.

    "You should try the house specialty-sweet and sour pork," he said, and before she could protest, he ced a piece on her te.

    Citrine eyed the meat, her stomach churning. She hesitated but steeled herself to take small, polite bites, forcing it down.

    The Carmichael family was known for their strict table manners, and Raymond never spoke while eating. Citrine, for her part, was used to dining alone.

    The meal passed in near silence. Every gesture between them seemed to carry the grace and restraint of old aristocracy-elegant, dignified, almost mesmerizing to watch. With both of them being exceptionally good-looking, it was no surprise they attracted more than a few curious nces from other diners.

    But the tranquility didn''tst long.

    "What are you doing here?" Sawyer, apanied by Norton, strode in, immediately spotting a familiar face. Sure enough, it was Citrine.

    She''d barely eaten, but seeing those two, she suddenly felt full. Their presence was enough to ruin anyone''s appetite.

    Annoyance flickered in Citrine''s eyes, and her tone went cold. "If Mr. Iverson can be here, why can''t I?"

    "Mr. Iverson?" Sawyer let out a disbelievingugh.

    "Citrine, stop being childish with Dad," Norton said sternly, his expression severe.

    He was growing more convinced than ever that his little sister was bing impossible.

    Sawyer opened his mouth to say something else but was abruptly distracted by a dangerous look aimed his way.

    "President Carmichael?" Sawyer sounded genuinely surprised.

    The Carmichaels and the Iversons were both major yers in Havencrest, their names frequently appearing in the business pages, and Sawyer had seen Raymond at more than a few industry events.

    The Carmichaels were the wealthiest family in Havencrest, and Raymond was infamous for his ruthlessness. Since taking over Carmichael Industries, he''d turned it into the city''s most powerful conglomerate in just a few years.

    Even Sawyer rarely dared to cross him.

    Raymond fixed Sawyer with a cool, almost amused look. "The eldest son of the Iverson family certainly throws his weight around. You haven''t even inherited the family business yet, and already you''re trying to discipline my people?"

    Then his gaze shifted to Norton, sharp as a de. "And who exactly do you think you are?"

 Chapter 12

    Norton knew better than to go up against Raymond, so he mped his mouth shut.

    "Your people?" Sawyer''s expression darkened, his attention caught by Raymond''sst words.

    Citrine actually knew Raymond.

    Suppressing the questions swirling in his mind, Sawyer turned to Citrine. "What''s your rtionship with him?"

    "That''s none of your business." Citrine didn''t even look up, eating her dinner as if he didn''t exist.

    Sawyer was infuriated by her indifference, suspicion nagging at him. He shot her an angry re. "Citrine, you''reing home with me. Stop making a spectacle of yourself out here."

    He reached out to grab her, only for Raymond to catch his arm in a firm grip. Raymond''s voice was cold. "And who are you to her now, Mr. Iverson?"

    "If I recall correctly, Citrine is only your adopted daughter. You severed ties not long ago."

    Sawyer bristled. Family business like this shouldn''t be aired in front of outsiders. "Mr. Carmichael, whatever happens, I''m still her father. This is a private matter- you don''t need to get involved."

    He turned back to Citrine. "Let''s go."

    Once, Sawyer had been the most important person in Citrine''s life. Now, all she felt was a simmering irritation. "I''m not going anywhere with you. I''ve already cut ties with the Iversons. From now on, I''m just Citrine."

    "So what then?" Sawyer snapped, pointing at Raymond. "You n to follow him instead?"

    "Yes," Citrine replied, clear and decisive.

    Sawyer and Norton''s faces went dark.

    Norton couldn''t hold back, shaking his head in disbelief. "Citrine, are you out of your mind? Raymond is over thirty!"

    Citrine couldn''t help it¡ªshe actuallyughed, the absurdity of the moment breaking through her annoyance.

    Sawyer, however, looked at her with open disappointment. "I should never have brought you back to the States. You''ve brought nothing but shame to the Iverson name."

    Never should have brought her back.

    The words echoed in Citrine''s mind, the smile slipping from her face. She''d

    thought her heart was numb, but suddenly, it hurt more than ever.

    A strange, almost manic smile flickered in her eyes. "But I''m here now."

    She clenched her fists, forcing her trembling shoulders to still.

    With her delicate features, anyone would have guessed that Citrine was a pampered heiress-but only she knew the darkness and chaos inside.

    Raymond was the first to notice something was wrong. His eyes chilled as he silently stepped between Citrine and the others, shielding her.

    "Mr. Iverson, maybe you and your foolish son should get your eyes checked," Raymond said, voice icy. "And keep your filthy assumptions to yourselves."

    "She''s my biological daughter."

    Sawyer and Norton froze, realizing they''d jumped to the wrong conclusion. For a moment, neither could find their pride.

    Sawyer recovered first, staring in disbelief. "What did you just say?"

    No matter what, he couldn''t believe Citrine was Raymond''s daughter. "Your daughter? Impossible."

    He''d adopted her and investigated her background-nothing had ever led back to her real parents.

    Raymond shot him a cold, almost mocking nce. "I''ll have the test results sent to you, Mr. Iverson. Believe it or not, that''s up to you."

    "But after you see them, I hope you''ll stop harassing my daughter."

    "Otherwise, I won''t hesitate to end every business deal between the Carmichaels and the Iversons."

    With that, Raymond turned to Citrine, his voice gentle. "Let''s go."

    Citrine followed, her emotions tangled.

    Being protected like this unsettled her she didn''t want to owe him anything.

    On the drive back, Citrine''s mood stayed low. It waste, and before long she drifted off to sleep.

    Raymond only woke her once they''d pulled up to the Carmichael estate.

    Meanwhile, Sawyer had just returned home from the restaurant when Raymond''s assistant sent over the DNA results.

    There it was in ck and white: Citrine was indeed Raymond''s biological daughter.

    Sawyer stared at the paper for hours, stunned.

    He knew the Carmichaels'' reputation-there was no way they''d forge something like this just to deceive him.

 Chapter 13

    His daughter had be Raymond''s daughter.

    The realization struck Sawyer like a blow to the chest a dull, lingering ache he couldn''t ignore.

    For some reason, his mind drifted back to memories of Citrine as a child.

    Back then, Sawyer had nothing-no money, no connections. He was just starting hispany, which had already lost a fortune on its first projects, leaving him drowning in debt. He spent months in a haze of despair, convinced he''d reached rock bottom.

    That was when he met Citrine.

    One night, after drinking far too much, he stumbled down the street on his way home. That''s when he saw young Citrine.

    She couldn''t have been more than three, dressed in ragged clothes that made her look like a little street urchin. Head held high, she called out to him.

    "Daddy."

    Her eyes sparkled-bright and clear, as if holding a whole gxy inside.

    Sawyer had never dealt with such a young child before. For the first time in a long while, he stopped in his tracks.

    He answered, his tone oddly serious, "Kid, I''m not your dad."

    Citrine stared back at him, her gaze far too wise for her age. "But could you be?" she asked.

    Worried he wouldn''t believe her, she went on, "My dad says I''m a burden, so he hates me. I want a new dad. Could you be my dad?"

    Her childish honesty loosened something in Sawyer''s chest, easing the tension that had been wound tight for months.

    "Kid, you''re reallytching onto me, aren''t you?" he replied, half amused.

    But he didn''t give her words much thought.

    It wasn''t until he was nearly home that he realized Citrine had been following him the whole way.

    "You''ve been tailing me this whole time?" he asked, surprised.

    Citrine nodded.

    "Don''t you know how dangerous that is?" For once, Sawyer found himself scolding someone else.

    "Where do you live? I''ll take you home."

    Sensing he was upset, Citrine mumbled an address.

    Her home was in a narrow alley, overflowing with trash and reeking of sewage.

    She lived in a rundown apartment building at the end.

    "This is my home," Citrine said, knocking on the door.

    Before Sawyer could react, a man swung the door open and immediately kicked Citrine out onto the pavement.

    He cursed, demanding, "You useless brat, where''s my money?"

    Citrine barely flinched. She just picked herself up, pulled a handful of crumpled bills from her pocket, and handed them over.

    "That''s all?" the man growled, clearly unsatisfied. He grabbed a chair from the doorway and swung it at her.

    Sawyer rushed forward, blocking the blow andnding a punch squarely on the man''s face.

    "What the hell is wrong with you? She''s your daughter!" Sawyer shouted, jabbing a finger at the man''s nose.

    "Daughter? She''s nothing but a worthless drain," the man spat, clutching his face. In the end, Sawyer couldn''t get the man to let them inside.

    He couldn''t leave Citrine with someone like that. After contacting the police, he learned the grim truth: Citrine had been trafficked and wasn''t even the man''s child.

    With no other choice, Sawyer took her home with him.

    But he was broke, buried in debt-there were days when instant noodles were all he could afford. It was hardly the life for a child.

    "Citrine, would you like a new mom and dad?" Sawyer asked gently, holding her close.

    Citrine hesitated, silent.

    Sawyer took her silence as agreement.

    The next day, he started reaching out to adoption agencies, hoping to find her a better home.

    But while he was out making arrangements, Citrine disappeared.

    He came home to an empty apartment. Panic set in as he searched everywhere for her, frantic.

    He finally found her lugging a huge stic bag, overflowing with bottles, cans, and scraps of cardboard.

    Her face was smudged with dirt, like a little stray kitten.

    When she spotted him, she broke into a run, grinning from ear to ear.

    Her big, violet eyes-clear as ss grapes-looked up at him with such hope and

    longing. "Daddy, look! I can earn money. I''m not a burden."

    She pressed a few crumpled bills into his hand.

    The bills were warm from her pocket and her small hand. Whatever words of reprimand he''d meant to say caught in his throat.

    He should have realized it sooner. Citrine was clever and sensitive; she''d known from the start that he was nning to send her away.

 Chapter 14

    After that, Sawyer simply decided to adopt the little one.

    Two lost souls, clinging to each other for warmth.

    It was the lowest point in Sawyer''s life, a time when he had nothing to his name. And yet, with that small bundle of joy by his side, he found a rare, preciousfort he''d never known before.

    Though it all happened more than a decade ago, Sawyer remembered every detail, as if it had just happened yesterday.

    Back then, that little girl had eyes only for him-she''d cling to his leg, refusing to let go until he picked her up. Now, that same girl was demanding to sever all ties, as if their father-daughter bond meant nothing at all.

    And just like that, she''d found her biological father.

    The thought that Raymond was her real dad left Sawyer feeling unexpectedly hollow inside.

    That night, he didn''t sleep a wink.

    Meanwhile, after returning home, Raymond immediately ordered someone to investigate Citrine''s time overseas.

    Sawyer had mentioned she''d lived abroad-and the child''s reaction had been anything but normal.

    Raymond, too, found himself unable to sleep that night¡ªa rare urrence for him.

    Only Citrine slept soundly, drifting into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

    She hadn''t slept well in ages. Ever since her return six months ago, she hadn''t had a single restful night at the Iversons'' estate.

    Who would have thought she''d finally sleep so well under the Carmichaels'' roof? Maybe the Iverson family was just bad luck for her.

    The next morning, when Citrine came down for breakfast, she learned that Raymond had already left early for the office.

    She didn''t give it much thought. After finishing her meal, she headed off to school.

    As soon as she walked into the ssroom, she spotted Amelia slumped over her desk, looking utterly miserable.

    "What''s wrong?" Citrine asked. It was rare to see Amelia so downcast.

    "Citrine, the monthly exams are next week." Amelia lifted her head, looking as if the life had been sucked out of her.

    Only then did Citrine notice the dark circles under her eyes. "Don''t tell me you didn''t sleep all night?"

    Amelia nodded. She''d spent the entire night poring over her textbooks, but nothing seemed to stick.

    "If I''m at the bottom of the ss again this time, I''ll be forced to leave," Amelia said, sniffling, clearly upset.

    Havencrest Preparatory Academy had a notoriously strict rule: if a student ranked in the bottom five for three consecutive monthly exams, they''d be expelled and have to find another school.

    There was one slightly more forgiving policy, though any student who wanted to transfer in from another Havencrest campus could take the entrance exam at any time. As long as they passed, they''d be admitted.

    Of course, that entrance exam was notoriously tough.

    Citrine thought about all this, then rummaged through her desk and pulled out a notebook, handing it to Amelia.

    "Don''t worry. You''re not getting expelled," she said with quiet confidence.

    There was something about Citrine-a calm assurance that always made people believe her. Amelia''s nerves eased a little.

    She stared at the notebook. "What''s this?"

    "These are my ss notes from before. If you go through them, you''ll be fine in the exam."

    But these weren''t ordinary notes-Citrine had put together her own ways of solving every type of problem, with tips and shortcuts to make even the trickiest concepts easier to understand.

    Amelia doubted they''d help, but if Citrine said so, she was willing to try. She happily epted the notebook-honestly, Citrine could''ve handed her a pile of junk and she''d still be grateful.

    Suddenly, a mockingugh sounded from the next row.

    The girl wasn''t much to look at, but she carried herself with a certain arrogance. Dressed in head-to-toe designerbels, she was the very picture of a spoiled heiress.

    Arms folded, she looked down her nose at Citrine and Amelia. "The sixth-lowest scorer teaching the fifth-lowest how to study? That''s hrious."

    Amelia''s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but remembering Citrine''s encouragement, she straightened her back.

    "So what? Citrine''s ranking never changes, and that''s something, isn''t it?" she shot back, voice wavering but determined.

    Alicia Chase just sneered. "Keep telling yourself that. We''ll see if you''re still smiling when the test resultse in."

    As Citrine looked at the girl in front of her, memories from a much darker time came rushing back, unbidden.

 Chapter 15

    They''d known each other forever-Alicia was that childhood friend she and Jete had grown up with.

    Truth was, Alicia and she had been at odds since they were kids.

    If anything, things were even worse now.

    Watching Alicia stalk toward her, cheeks flushed with anger, Citrine couldn''t help but let out augh.

    "What''s so funny?" Alicia demanded, her voice tight, as if she''d justnded a punch on a pillow.

    Citrine watched Alicia struggling to keep her temper in check and thought, not without a trace of contempt, Still as clueless as ever. What a waste of energy- getting riled up over nothing.

    She didn''t bother to sugarcoat her words. "You''ve been runner-up for as long as anyone can remember, and yet you still have time to meddle in our business."

    "If you really have that much free time, maybe you should hit the books and finally shake off your second-ce streak."

    Alicia''s jaw clenched. Being called "runner-up" was the one thing she couldn''t stand; it made her blood boil.

    But as she remembered the rumors swirling around the school forums, her expression softened, if only a little.

    "Citrine, after all those nasty things you''ve done, you''ve already been kicked out of the Iverson family."

    "It''s only a matter of time before you''re expelled from Primus Academy, too. I can''t wait to see how smug you''ll be then."

    Alicia spat out the words through gritted teeth, already savoring the thought of Citrine''s downfall.

    Without the Iverson name, let''s see how arrogant you can be.

    Having said her piece, Alicia finally felt a bit better.

    Citrine, however, just kept on smiling-cool, unbothered.

    "Without the Iverson family, I''m still me. And as for being expelled? That''s never going to happen."

    In fact, Citrine thought, losing the Iverson family would only make her stronger.

    In her previous life, she''d done everything to protect the Iversons, never once thinking about herself, giving up so much along the way.

    Achievements, recognition¡ªthose things had never mattered. The only thing she''d ever longed for was the faintest trace of familial affection, so slight it barely existed.

    But whether it was something she cared about or not, Jete only had to frown and it would fall right into her hands.

    Why?

    In this life, Citrine wanted everything-glory, sess, and love.

    It was noon, and sunlight zed outside the windows, but in the Carmichael Group''s executive office, the temperature had plunged below freezing.

    Raymond was in a rage, hurling everything on his desk to the floor. Documents scattered everywhere as he glowered, his eyes as cold as steel.

    "How dare the Iversons?" he snarled.

    Raymond had always thought of himself as ruthless, butpared to Sawyer, he was nothing. That monster had sent an eleven-year-old girl to Mirage Cay.

    He''d always assumed the Iversons had simply sent her overseas. If he hadn''t noticed the child''s strange mood at that dinner, he might never have learned the truth.

    Mirage Cay-awless hellhole. Just hearing the name sent chills down his spine.

    It was a cesspool of filth, violence, bloodshed, and every illegal trade imaginable. For the rich, it was a yground. For everyone else, it was a pit of despair.

    People went in and either died or were broken beyond repair. Hardly anyone ever made it out alive-let alone a child.

    Raymond couldn''t even imagine how she''d managed to escape from that ce. Even he, as an adult, felt a shudder of fear at the thought of it.

    Adler, his assistant, had never seen the boss this furious. Internally cursing the Iversons, Adler forced himself to continue with the report.

    "Miss Citrine only managed to escape after she turned fourteen. We haven''t been able to uncover anything about what happened after that."

    He hesitated, then added, "It''s possible someone deliberately erased all traces of her life abroad during those years."

    Raymond nodded. "Makes sense. If someone went to the trouble of wiping Citrine''s records overseas, there''s no way we''d be able to dig anything up." "All right. You can go now."

    Once Adler had left, Raymond stepped to the floor-to-ceiling window and lit a cigarette.

    He''d grown up in an unhappy home himself and had never nned on marrying or having children.

 Chapter 16

    Citrine''s arrival in his life had beenpletely unexpected.

    And for Raymond, that surprise came with a tangle of emotions he could scarcely unravel.

    When Citrine first came to him, he hadn''t believed her ims. Only after the DNA test confirmed she was indeed his biological daughter did he force himself to ept the truth-however much it unsettled him.

    But now, as he watched her, Raymond finally realized just how much he owed this girl.

    He had brought her into the world, yet failed utterly to protect her.

    That afternoon, when school let out at five, Citrine was wandering the curb, scanning for the Carmichael family''s car, when she suddenly spotted a familiar ck Phantom idling nearby.

    "Don''t bother looking-there''s no driver today," Raymond called, striding over with his long, purposeful steps as he climbed out of the car.

    Citrine stared, wide-eyed, as he approached her.

    "What are you doing here?" she asked, the question lingering in her mind though she kept her face carefully neutral.

    He had taken her out for dinner once before, but Citrine never really believed Raymond wanted to pick her up from school, not after how obviously reluctant he''d been to acknowledge her at first.

    "The driver had something urgent, and I happened to be free," Raymond replied, his expression stiff for a moment as he avoided her gaze.

    Citrine nodded, epting his exnation without question.

    Once they were both in the car, Raymond broke the silence. "We''re going to get your paperwork sorted out."

    He''d made up his mind about this before he even arrived.

    Citrine paused, puzzled by his sudden concern. She couldn''t quite figure Raymond out.

    "Why?"

    She could still remember all too well how hard he had resisted epting her when they first met.

    Raymond knew she hadn''t forgotten that first, ufortable encounter, and for a brief second, he regretted it.

    He offered an exnation: "I didn''t realize you were really my daughter when we first met."

    Citrine understood what he was getting at.

    "Do you want to change your name?" Raymond hesitated, thinking of how she might have struggled in the Iverson family. "You don''t have to keep your old one if you don''t want to."

    Citrine shook her head.

    She''d been Citrine all her life. There was no reason to change that now.

    Raymond assumed she must still feel some attachment to the Iversons and let the matter drop.

    When they reached the appropriate office, Raymond handled all the paperwork with brisk efficiency. Everything went smoothly, and in no time, it was done.

    Citrine watched as her new details were added-her own page now filed neatly behind Raymond''s.

    But this time, she wasn''t just Citrine.

    She was Citrine Carmichael.

    Afterward, Citrine thought he''d drive her straight back to the Carmichael house- but instead, Raymond turned the car toward the mall.

    "Aren''t we going home?" she asked, puzzled.

    "We''re here to get you some proper clothes," Raymond replied, ncing at her faded sweatshirt and worn jeans with a slight frown.

    For a moment, Citrine could almost feel his disapproval.

    She looked down at her washed-out clothes and had to admit they did look a little shabby.

    Raymond swept her into a designer boutique and, with a single decisive gesture, bought out all thetest collections for her. Citrine didn''t even have to try anything on, which made the process surprisingly easy.

    She nced at him out of the corner of her eye, thinking his bold, no-nonsense style suited him perfectly.

    They went from store to store, and Raymond did the same in each one. Citrine had to admit, it was nice not having to worry about anything.

    Still, seeing the sheer amount he was spending made her heart ache a little.

    If she had that kind of money to herself, she couldn''t imagine how happy she''d be.

    Back at the Iversons'', she''d been so focused on getting Jete out of the house that money or career had never even crossed her mind. And with Aline¡ª Jete''s mother-refusing to give her a single cent, Citrine barely had a thousand dors to her name.

 Chapter 17

    On Friday after school, Citrine made sure to tell the Carmichael family''s driver not to pick her up.

    She''d bought a few things and taken a cab by herself to a private estate in Crestwood.

    The ce was tucked away in the woods on the edge of town, secluded and almost fortress-like with its heavy security-mysterious and imposing.

    As soon as the security staff spotted Citrine approaching, they all nodded respectfully.

    "Wee, Miss. Please,e in."

    She gave a polite nod in return and headed inside.

    With every step, Citrine felt her heart growing heavier.

    She had no idea how she was going to face her grandfather.

    If it hadn''t been for him-if he hadn''t rescued her in America and treated her like his own granddaughter-she wouldn''t be the Citrine she was today.

    In her previous life, she''d given everything to the Iverson family, barely sparing a thought for her grandfather. In the end, he''d been left disgraced, all because of her.

    He''d always been so proud. The shame must have crushed him.

    Citrine stood in front of the grand old house, wringing her hands so tightly her knuckles whitened, suddenly tempted to turn back.

    But before she could retreat, the front door swung open.

    The butler spotted her and hurried over, ushering her inside. "Miss Citrine, you''re back! The master''s been waiting in the sitting room since early this morning, just for you."

    A wave of warmth spread through Citrine''s chest as she made her way down the familiar hall.

    As soon as she stepped into the living room, she saw him¡ªa tall, upright figure sitting alone on the couch.

    At the sight of her, he visibly stiffened.

    Her grandfather''s face was stern, and he let out a huff, turning his head away in feigned annoyance.

    Citrine knew he was mad at her. She walked over and plopped down beside him, greeting him with a sweet, "Grandpa."

    He ignored her. Citrine, unfazed, leaned in closer with a teasing grin. "Hey, grumpy old man?"

    "Mind your manners," he grumbled, still keeping up the act.

    "I''m not your grandpa, you know. I''m just a lonely old man with no one to care for me."

    With her eyes growing misty, Citrine slid closer and wrapped her arms around his. "No way. You''re my favorite grandpa in the whole world."

    She''d always known just how to win him over.

    The butler watched the two of them with a smile tugging at his lips. The old man might be getting on in years, but he could still sulk like a child.

    Scenes like this had yed out between them regrly when they lived abroad. The butler had grown used to it.

    Her grandfather tried to maintain his stern fa?ade, but when he saw his granddaughter''s eyes brimming with tears, he snapped. With a huff, he upended the fruit bowl on the coffee table, sending apples and oranges ttering across the floor.

    He was fuming. "Tell me the truth-was it those vultures from the Iverson family? Did they bully you?"

    "I''ll make some calls right now and teach them a lesson."

    He pulled out his phone, ready to act.

    Citrine had always been a handful, but this was the first time he''d seen her looking so miserable. All his bluster vanished in an instant.

    She hurriedly grabbed his arm, holding him back. Only after a long moment did she finally murmur, voice trembling, "I just missed you, Grandpa." With that, she buried her head in his chest.

    He huffed again, but his eyes had softened. "If you missed me, why didn''t youe see me sooner?"

    "I was wrong, okay? That''s why I''m here now. And I promise I''lle visit all the time." Citrine couldn''t helpughing at his stubbornness, raising her hand in a solemn oath.

    "Really?" His eyes lit up. He''d never married, never had children¡ªhis whole life had been devoted to his work. Citrine was the closest thing he had to family.

    "Of course," she said sincerely.

    He doted on her, and no matter how upset he got, Citrine could always talk him down.

    "Tell me, what happened out there? Who upset you? I''ll set things right for you."

    She didn''t argue for once, which only confirmed his suspicion that something must have happened.

    His expression darkened again as his thoughts turned to the Iverson family. "Was it Aline and her daughter again? Did they give you trouble?"

    Even though he lived out in Crestwood, he always made a point to keep tabs on the Iversons over in Havencrest. He knew more about their affairs than he let on.

 Chapter 18

    Although Citrine never breathed a word about the Iverson family in front of him, the old man knew full well just how cruel they''d been to her.

    His concern warmed Citrine''s heart. She hadn''t nned to keep secrets from him, so she simply told her grandfather that she''d cut ties with the Iversons.

    "What?" The old man sprang to his feet, outrage ring in his eyes. "That Sawyer brat actually dared to treat you like this? I ought to wring his neck!"

    Spotting the empty table and realizing there was nothing left for him to throw in his anger, Citrine quickly moved to calm him down. She gently patted his back, worried that his fury might get the better of him. "Grandpa, please, don''t get so worked up."

    She added softly, "I''ve already left the Iversons. And... I found my real father."

    At the first bit of news, her grandfather finally let out a relieved breath. "Good. You''re better off away from those fools. The Iversons never deserved your loyalty."

    But then he caught herst words and stiffened, suddenly wary. "Your real father?"

    Citrine nodded. "Yes. His name is Raymond."

    The old man ruffled her hair, his expression turning a touch more serious. "Listen, sweetheart. If the Carmichaels ever treat you badly, don''t forget you can alwayse home. As long as I''m here, you''ll always have a ce to belong."

    He didn''t try to persuade Citrine to stay. He knew, better than anyone, that she''d made up her mind. After all these years after everything Sawyer had put her through¡ªher longing for love had be an ache that ran deep, a fact he understood only too well.

    Even now that she''d found her real father, her grandfather couldn''t help but worry. All he hoped was that the Carmichaels wouldn''t break her heart the way the Iversons had.

    "Thank you, Grandpa."

    Eyes rimmed red, Citrine threw her arms around his neck. She knew her stubborn old grandfather wished she could stay by his side. The only reason he let her remain in Havencrest was because, in the end, he simply couldn''t stop her.

    Visits like this were rare, so Citrine decided to spend the night. She called the Carmichael family''s house manager to let them know in advance.

    It wasn''t long before her phone buzzed with a string of unfamiliar numbers. Citrine nced at the screen and declined the call. But the same number rang again momentster. This time, she answered.

    "Where are you?" The man''s voice was calm, but underneath there was a flicker of anxiety.

    Citrine recognized Raymond''s tone and froze in surprise. How did he get her number? Was he actually worried about her? No, that couldn''t be, she told herself, quickly dismissing the thought. After a long pause, she replied, "I had some things to take care of tonight. I won''t being home."

    She hesitated, then added, "I already told Ismael."

    But she never really answered Raymond''s question.

    Meanwhile, the Carmichael house was eerily quiet. Raymond sat alone on the sofa, feeling strangely unsettled in the empty silence. For the past week, every time he came home he''d find Citrine curled up in the living room watching TV, or he''d see the glow of her bedroom light upstairs.

    Tonight, for the first time, the house was dark and utterly silent. The emptiness unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

    That was why he called.

    When he realized Citrine wasn''t going to answer his question, Raymond felt an odd sense of disappointment¡ªalong with a trace of worry he didn''t fully recognize.

    After a long silence, just as Citrine was about to hang up, he spoke again. "When are youing back?"

    "Tomorrow."

    No more words were exchanged. After a moment, Citrine ended the call.

    Suddenly, she thought back to her days living with the Iversons. Sawyer was rarely home. Even if she disappeared for a week, nobody would bother to check on her.

    No one had ever cared whether she lived or died.

    She''d gotten used to it.

 Chapter 19

    Raymond sat alone in the empty living room, his mind wandering. He suddenly remembered that, back at the office, the kid had always been on her own.

    She must have felt scared, right?

    For a moment, he''d actually wanted to press her, to demand exactly where she''d gone. But he forced himself to let it go.

    After all, to her, they were little more than strangers bound by paperwork. If he started interrogating her now, she''d probably end up resenting him.

    Still, Raymond couldn''t help but worry. He dialed Adler''s number.

    At that very moment, Adler was tangled up with his girlfriend, their goodbyes dragging out with reluctant kisses. Just as things got heated, his phone buzzed on the nightstand, making both of them jump.

    The interruption instantly killed the mood. Adler''s girlfriend groaned, "Who the hell is it?"

    Adler nced at the screen, jaw clenched. "Damn corporate overlord," he muttered under his breath, the light in his eyes flickering out.

    He groaned, half to himself, "I swear I''m quitting tomorrow. I''m done with this."

    But as he grumbled, his body betrayed him he was already pulling his shirt back

    on.

    A few secondster, he answered the call, suddenly all meek politeness. "Hello, Mr. Carmichael."

    His voice dripped with servile charm.

    "Find out where Citrine went today," Raymond said curtly, then hung up without waiting for a reply.

    An hourter, Adler called back.

    "Mr. Carmichael, Miss Citrine went to Crestwood. Beyond that, I couldn''t find out anything."

    Raymond frowned, his expression growing darker.

    If even Adler couldn''t dig up anything, someone must have gone out of their way to cover Citrine''s tracks.

    The next afternoon, when Citrine came home, she found Raymond stretched out on the couch.

    She walked over and realized his eyes were shut, his face flushed with fever.

    The usuallymanding, unppable man now looked oddly fragile in his illness. "Raymond?" Citrine poked him, calling his name softly, but he didn''t stir.

    She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead.

    "Damn, he''s burning up."

    Had he been like this all day?

    The housekeeper and the maid were both on holiday this week, so the only ones home were the two of them.

    Citrine took his temperature. When she saw the thermometer nearly hit 104, she quickly gave him one of her own fever reducers.

    She fetched a nket from the bedroom and tucked it snugly around him on the couch, then dampened a towel and ced it gently on his forehead.

    Once she''d done all that, she headed to the kitchen to make some soup.

    Back when she''d lived with the Iversons, Aline had never given her an allowance. Whenever Sawyer was away, it was normal for Citrine toe home to an empty kitchen.

    Aline had instructed the staff not to cook for her, and no one dared disobey.

    After a while, Citrine learned to fend for herself in the kitchen, and her cooking turned out surprisingly well.

    Raymond, groggy from the medicine, was barely conscious. Citrine managed to coax only half a bowl of soup into him.

    That night, to keep an eye on him, Citrine simply grabbed a nket and camped out on the couch across from his.

    By three in the morning, Raymond''s fever had finally broken. The fog in his head had lifted, leaving his mind unusually clear.

    He opened his eyes and saw Citrine fast asleep on the other couch, a strange feeling settling in his chest.

    Even yesterday, when he''d been slipping in and out of consciousness, he''d been vaguely aware of someone tending to him with gentle care.

    The Carmichael family was never close; whenever he got sick, he just toughed it out alone. At most, he''d buy himself some medicine. No one had ever looked after him like this.

    This was the first time he''d felt what it was like to be cared for-and the person caring for him was his own daughter.

    Someone who shared his blood.

    The next morning, Citrine woke to find Raymond still asleep.

    "That''s odd," she murmured. She''d given him her own fever medicine after all.

    Her form contained nothing harmful, and it worked better than anything you could buy at the pharmacy. There was no reason he shouldn''t be better by now. Citrine walked over, crouched down, andid the back of her hand on Raymond''s forehead.

    The moment she touched him, his eyes snapped open. Citrine jumped, yanking her hand back.

    For a second, their eyes met. Citrine felt awkward and scrambled to her feet. "Uh... you''re awake?"

    "Yeah." Raymond kept his gaze on her, not looking away.

    "Are you feeling any better?" Citrine asked.

 Chapter 20

    Raymond no longer looked sickly; the pallor from his illness had vanished. As he rose from the couch, the cold, steely expression he was known for returned, though if you looked closely, there was a subtle warmth in his eyes-a softness that hadn''t been there before.

    "I''m much better now."

    He hesitated, then added, "Thank you for taking care of me yesterday."

    Raymond quickly averted his gaze, almost as if embarrassed by his own words. He never imagined himself saying something like that to anyone. What surprised him even more was that he''din awake all night the evening she didn''te home, unable to sleep, feeling the pull of concern for the first time in his life.

    Citrine, on the other hand, looked a little ufortable. She paused, then managed, "It''s... it''s nothing."

    On weekends, the house was quiet-no butler, no staff, no one to look after the child left alone at home. Raymond nced at Citrine, a little uncertain. "Do you want toe to the office with meter?"

    Citrine seemed lost in thought for a moment but then nodded quickly.

    When she was a child, Sawyer used to take her to the office all the time. But ever since she''d returned from abroad six months ago, Sawyer''s attitude had changed. He''d made it clear-more than once-that he didn''t want hering to thepany. Even though, in Sawyer''s eyes, she was just an adopted daughter and posed no real threat.

    Back then, she hadn''t understood. But now, after everything she''d been through, she realized the truth: Sawyer only saw Jete as the true heir of the Iverson family. Every cold shoulder was a warning-don''t reach for what isn''t yours; don''t even think aboutpeting with Jete.

    The Carmichael Group was muchrger than the Iverson Group. As Citrine walked beside Raymond through the gleaming lobby, she could feel eyes turning their way.

    It was rare to see President Carmichael with a young woman by his side. The gossip was immediate.

    "Whoa, who''s that girl with President Carmichael?"

    "I can''t believe he''s brought someone to the office. That''s a first."

    "She''s gorgeous-looks like a real princess. Even the way she walks, you can tell she''s from a wealthy family."

    "Oh my god, she looked right at me. I think I''m going to faint."

    The female employees stared at Citrine with wide, sparkling eyes, their

    expressions hungry with curiosity-like wolves eyeing a juicy steak.

    Citrine felt a bit uneasy under their scrutiny, but there was no malice in their gazes just fascination.

    It wasn''t until they reached Raymond''s office that the feeling of being watched finally faded.

    Raymond had made arrangements ahead of time: a beautiful new desk was set up beside his own,plete with a state-of-the-artputer, a sleek gaming chair, and a pair of high-end headphones-the kind that were all the rage among young people. Everything was spotless, clearly prepared just for her.

    Citrine''s eyes lit up with delight.

    As a child, she''d loved video games, but Jete had been into singing and dancing. Almost every spare room in the house had been turned into a dance studio or a music room for Jete. There had been a year when Citrine studied hard and finished first in her grade. Sawyer had asked what she wanted as a reward, and she''d said she wanted aputer and some gaming gear for her room. At first, Sawyer had agreed. Later, though, he''d imed the noise would disturb Jete''s rest and told Citrine not to be so selfish.

    After that, she''d never asked Sawyer for anything again.

    "Do you like it?" Raymond asked, watching her reaction with quiet satisfaction. He''d never seen Citrine look like this before-genuinely happy, like a child who''d just been given the perfect gift.

    She didn''t say much, but Raymond could tell how pleased she was. He fought back a smile, making a mental note to give Adler a bonus for handling the arrangements so well.

    Citrine nodded. "I love it," she said, already taking a seat and settling in.

    "I have a meeting," Raymond said, seeing how content she was. "You can hang out here for a while. If you need anything, just ask Adler." With that, he left her to enjoy her new setup.

    Citrine sat alone at theputer, a little bored, so she logged into the website where she posted her stories. The moment she signed in, she was stunned by the flood of notifications-over ny-nine messages waiting for her.

    In just a few days, hertest novel had racked up thousands ofments and an outpouring of requests for new chapters. Skimming through the feedback, she saw that almost all of it was positive; only a handful of negative remarks stood out.

    On top of that, her inbox was full of offers from editors asking her to sign a contract.

    She picked one at random, read through the contract carefully to make sure there were no hidden traps, and signed the deal without hesitation.

 Chapter 21

    The Carmichael Group''s conference room was shrouded in tense silence.

    All the senior executives fixed their eyes on Raymond, who sat at the head of the table reviewing the proposal. No one even dared to breathe too loudly, each one secretly wishing they could crawl under the table and vanish-anything to avoid being the first in line for criticism.

    For them, every meeting felt like a grueling ordeal.

    After a long, uneasy pause, Raymond finally spoke. "Not bad."

    At once, beads of sweat appeared on the foreheads of the department heads.

    A few began to whisper nervously to each other.

    "Did I hear that right? Did President Carmichael have too much to drinkst night?"

    "Did he just say ''not bad''?"

    One executive wiped his brow, his anxiety deepening. "You don''t get it. This is just the calm before the storm. Ever heard of ''the higher the praise, the harder the fall''? Brace yourself-he''s about to tear our proposal to shreds."

    Oblivious to the collective anxiety tightening in the room, Raymond nced around, lowering his voice. "Well? Why are you still sitting here?"

    "All proposals are approved. Meeting adjourned."

    With that, he closed hisptop and strode out, leaving a roomful of stunned executives staring wide-eyed at each other.

    "God, am I dreaming?"

    "Was that really President Carmichael? Did I hear him right?"

    "He approved everything? Pinch me, would you, Steve-I think I''m hallucinating."

    "Either he''s turned over a new leaf, or someone''s swapped his soul."

    Back in his office, Raymond found Citrine, headphones on, gaming with fierce concentration.

    He''d never seen such animation on her face before and couldn''t help but watch her for a moment longer, though he didn''t disturb her.

    Before long, Raymond left to meet a client. Not five minutes after he''d gone, the office door swung open.

    The sharp click of high heels echoed closer and closer.

    Citrine, still wearing her headphones, didn''t notice until the neer yanked her power cable out. She pulled off her headphones, fixing her gaze on the woman standing before her.

    The woman was petite, dressed in an immacte white dress, her ck hair cascading over her shoulders. She looked like she''d stepped out of a movie-the perfect, polished ing¨¦nue.

    "What do you think you''re doing?" Citrine''s good mood soured instantly, her expression turning cold.

    She could sense the woman''s hostility as clearly as a p, and saw no reason to be polite.

    Valerie didn''t answer. Instead, she looked Citrine up and down, searching for a single w and finding none. The girl was stunning-wless from head to toe- which only made Valerie''s hatred and jealousy burn hotter.

    "So, what''s your rtionship with President Carmichael?" Valerie finally ventured, her tone probing.

    So she''s not just an innocent little thing, Citrine thought. She''s ying games.

    "None of your business." Citrine arched a brow, her eyes sparkling with open mockery.

    If Valerie wanted answers, she''d get none from her.

    For a moment, Valerie was speechless.

    Citrine looked so young, and that only confirmed Valerie''s suspicions. She forced

    a neutral expression, but her mind was racing.

    A girl her age, hanging around here? Clearly just another pretty distraction

    President Carmichael kept around.

    Such a little flirt, throwing herself at men-how shameless.

    "You know, ying games here might distract President Carmichael from his work," Valerie said, her tone suddenly sweet and reasonable.

    She paused, as if weighing her options. "Maybe I should have someone move your desk out. President Carmichael doesn''t like being disturbed."

    Pathetic, Citrine thought. Such a weak move.

    She ignored Valerie''s suggestion and shot back, "And who are you, exactly?"

    Valerie folded her arms, a note of pride creeping into her voice. "I''m Valerie. President Carmichael personally selected me as his intern."

    Citrine nodded ndly, feigning disappointment. "Oh, so you''re just an intern."

    She added, "And what makes you think an intern has any right to tell me what to do?"

 Chapter 22

    "You probably don''t get it, kid," Valerie said, barely keeping her anger in check as she cursed Citrine out a hundred different ways in her head. "I was handpicked by Mr. Carmichael himself. I''m not like everyone else here."

    Citrine muttered under her breath, "Well, his judgment must be slipping, hiring someone like you."

    "What did you just say?" Valerie''s eyes narrowed; she was sure Citrine was talking smack.

    "Nothing," Citrine replied, stifling augh. "So, what exactly makes you so special?"

    Honestly, Citrine thought, bosses hiring staff was the most ordinary thing in the world. Who knew someone could spin that into a whole fantasy about marrying into wealth and power?

    Before Valerie could answer, Citrine cut her off, "Don''t tell me you actually think Raymond Carmichael would marry you and make you thedy of the house?"

    Valerie''s face flushed crimson. That thought had crossed her mind more than once, but having this brat voice it so bluntly left her feeling more than a little embarrassed.

    "I" she started, trying to recover herposure.

    But Citrine didn''t let her finish. "You''re delusional. Might want to get that checked out."

    "Seriously, that kind of fantasy is a medical condition. You should see someone."

    Citrine''s voice echoed crisply through the office, every word hitting its mark. Throughout the exchange, she remained calm and even, but Valerie''s face was a shifting palette of shock and rage; her polite smile was starting to slip.

    Finally, Valerie dropped the act entirely.

    "You little tramp," she spat, her voice venomous. "What are you pretending for? Climbing into Mr. Carmichael''s bed at your age-you must be real proud of yourself."

    "You''ve got that sly, seductive face-God knows how many men you''ve messed around with."

    "Your parents must be real pieces of work, too¡ª"

    Before she could finish, a sharp pnded across Valerie''s cheek, stinging red- hot.

    Damn brat-how was she so strong?

    Clutching her face in disbelief, Valerie stared at Citrine. She never thought this girl would actually hit her. With that innocent face, Citrine always seemed cold and a bit aloof, but never threatening.

    Valerie grimaced in pain, while Citrine felt a surge of satisfaction. Curling her lips in a warning, she said, "Keep mouthing off and I''ll hit you again."

    If she could solve a problem with her own hands, it wasn''t really a problem at all.

    She''d lived one life bottling things up-she had no intention of repeating that mistake. If someone tried to make her miserable, she''d give it right back.

    Valerie, still clutching her throbbing cheek, was about to start hurling more insults when footsteps sounded in the hallway.

    Quick as anything, Valerie wiped her face, flopped down on the floor, and let the tears flow.

    "How could you hit me? I only asked you to move out because I was worried you''d distract Mr. Carmichael. Even if you didn''t like it, you can''t just attack me..."

    Valerie looked lovely even when she cried, the kind of weeping that tugged at the heartstrings.

    Raymond stepped into the room and took in the scene, his expression darkening, his voice icy. "What''s going on here?" he asked, eyes on Citrine.

    Citrine looked up and met his gaze, her own eyes growing colder by the second. Something in his frosty stare sparked irritation deep inside her.

    Her voice was hard as steel. "I hit her. She deserved it."

    "I''m not apologizing."

    Valerie, hearing this, felt a thrill of satisfaction. She just knew Mr. Carmichael saw

    her differently¡ªthis little wretch was nothing next to her.

    "Mr. Carmichael-" she began, trying to squeeze out another tear.

    "Enough. Get out."

    The re in Raymond''s eyes cut through her act in an instant. Valerie shrank back, the words dying in her throat, and scurried from the room.

 Chapter 23

    Citrine froze, staring at Raymond in confusion. Wasn''t he just telling her to get out?

    Seeing the way the girl tensed up, Raymond''s dislike for the Iverson family only deepened. Clearly, she''d been med for things she didn''t do more than once in that house.

    He knew she was sensitive, so his tone softened as he quickly exined, "No one''s asking you to apologize."

    Then, ncing at the red mark on Valerie''s cheek, he asked in an even voice, "Did your hand get hurt?"

    Citrine blinked, herrge, beautiful eyes widening in surprise. "Aren''t you going to ask why I hit her?"

    Back at the Iversons'', whenever something like this happened, Sawyer never cared about the reason¡ªhe''d just force her to apologize. Citrine had gotten used to it.

    Raymond just shrugged, as if it were nothing. "You already told me she deserved it. That''s good enough for me."

    For a moment, Citrine''s calm heart started to race with a strange spark of excitement. She looked at Raymond, eager for reassurance. "You really believe me?"

    Her eyes glittered like the night sky, full of hope.

    Raymond felt a sudden warmth in his chest as he met her gaze. "Of course I do. You''re my daughter," he said, without a hint of doubt.

    He thought for a moment, then added, "Right or wrong doesn''t matter. What matters is that no one gets to push you around."

    "If anyone tries to mess with you, you have every right to stand up for yourself."

    "My daughter has nothing to fear in Havencrest," he finished, a touch of pride in his voice.

    Raymond''s reputation in Havencrest''s elite circles was that of a madman¡ª someone everyone wanted to stay on the good side of. He''d never cared about what people thought of him.

    Because of what he said, Citrine felt lighter than she had in a long time. The two of them, father and daughter, grew closer that day without even realizing it.

    The next morning, Raymond drove Citrine to school himself before heading to the office.

    He''d already reviewed the security footage from yesterday-Valerie had been causing trouble from start to finish. Raymond''s expression stayed icy the whole time, but when he saw Valerie shouting at Citrine, the temperature in the room seemed to drop below zero.

    As soon as the video ended, he called Adler into his office. "Tell Valerie not toe in tomorrow. And let it be known-anypany that hires her is picking a fight with The Carmichael Group."

    Adler was about to agree, but then hesitated. "Mr. Carmichael, you personally brought Valerie onto the team."

    Raymond frowned. "So what?"

    "You said she was an excellent asset," Adler reminded him.

    Raymond let out a sharpugh. "She''s good at her job, sure. But The Carmichael Group isn''t hurting for talented interns."

    Especially not ones who don''t know their ce.

    She''d used his trust as a weapon against her coworkers more than once. That

    kind of arrogance had no ce at The Carmichael Group.

    Meanwhile, when Citrine arrived at school, the seating chart for the exams was already up.

    She''dnded sixth from the bottom-right behind Amelia.

    As soon as Amelia spotted her, her face lit up. "Citrine!"

    "I read through those notes you gave me. Honestly, they''re better than anything the teachers exined."

    With exams looming, Amelia had picked up the notebook on a whim. She''d only meant to flip through it, but to her surprise, the problems she''d struggled with suddenly made sense. She''d stayed up two nights in a row, already halfway through.

    Compared to Amelia''s excitement, Citrine was much more rxed. "Of course. I told you, there''s no way you''ll get expelled."

    Amelia didn''t take Citrine''s words too seriously, but somehow, her nerves about the exam faded just a little.

 Chapter 24

    In no time, the proctor entered the ssroom, and the entire room fell silent.

    Citrine''s memories from her past life flickered to life the moment she picked up the exam paper. She''d already studied these high school subjects abroad, so the questions were almostughably easy. One nce was all it took for her to know the answers-she didn''t even need to jot anything down on scrap paper.

    Back then, any time she showed even a hint of talent, Aline and Jete would find new ways to make her life miserable. She''d done nothing wrong, yet somehow always ended up being scolded by everyone, singled out as the problem.

    That was why, in the Iverson family, she''d had no choice but to y the part of the useless, good-for-nothing daughter.

    But now? That wasn''t an option anymore.

    Would Jete really be able to keep her cool this time?

    Citrine was more than a little eager to see the look on Jete''s face after the exam results came out.

    The next morning, with all the tests finally over, the students returned to their ssrooms.

    Amelia was practically bouncing with excitement. She flung her arms around Citrine. "Citrine, I absolutely adore you! I''m pretty sure I won''t have to drop out this time."

    For once, taking exams hadn''t felt like torture to Amelia. In the past, every test had been pure agony.

    "You keep talking about me-what about you? How''d you do?" Once her initial excitement faded, she remembered to check on her friend.

    "Pretty well," Citrine replied, a small, confident smile tugging at her lips.

    "That''s amazing! We''ll get to stay ssmates." Amelia''s delight was genuine. Neither of them noticed the unfriendly gaze fixed on them from across the room. That afternoon, after the final bell, Citrine spotted a sleek ck Phantom waiting by the school gates. It was obvious who''de to pick her up-Raymond.

    She slid into the car with practiced ease.

    "What brings you here?" she asked.

    "What, I''m not allowed to pick you up?" Raymond shot back, for once not bothering with any excuses.

    "I didn''t say that," Citrine replied coolly.

    But the slight upward curve of her lips betrayed her good mood.

    Raymond nced at her, trying to seem casual, but couldn''t help smiling. This kid was stubborn and proud, no doubt about it.

    "So... judging by that look, I''m guessing exams went well?" The words slipped out before he could stop himself.

    Then he remembered the report Adler had found: for the past six months, the kid had always ranked at the bottom of her ss. Not exactly ster grades. Would his question make her upset? She was so proud, after all.

    Raymond was about to reassure her when Citrine spoke up, her chin tilted defiantly. "I''m taking first ce this time." The pride in her eyes was unmistakable.

    "Well... that''s great," Raymond managed, a little stunned, but he didn''t call her bluff.

    He thought to himself, Even if her grades aren''t great, it doesn''t matter. He had more than enough money to hire tutors if she ever wanted to go to college-or send her abroad if she decided school wasn''t for her.

    After dinner.

    Citrine was about to head upstairs when her phone rang-Amelia was calling.

    They usually chatted often, but something about the call gave Citrine a bad feeling. She quickly answered.

    A familiar voice came through: "Citrine, your best friend is with us right now. Want toe over?"

    It was Alicia.

    Citrine''s tone turned icy. "Cut the crap. Where are you?"

    "At your friend''s family''s shop. I''ll text you the address," Alicia replied.

    The moment Citrine got what she needed, she hung up.

    Half an hourter, she arrived at the location.

    A crowd had gathered outside the shop. Citrine pushed her way through without hesitation.

 Chapter 25

    Shards of ss littered the entryway, crunching under Citrine''s shoes as she stepped inside. The whole restaurant was a disaster zone-pots and pans strewn everywhere, overturned tables and chairs lying in chaotic heaps across the floor.

    Citrine took in the wreckage with a quick nce, reaching for her phone to call and find out where everyone was. Before she could dial, a sharp, piercing cry echoed from the private room at the back.

    She turned and pushed the door open. Just as she expected, Alicia was lounging carelessly atop a dining table, nked by several broad-shouldered men in ck suits.

    In the corner, Amelia crouched by herself. Her parents clung to a little boy, shielding him tightly in their arms as they sobbed. The looks they shot Amelia weren''t those of worried parents, but the bitter, hateful res of people staring down an enemy.

    Citrine didn''t linger on the scene. She quickly looked away from the family of three and strode over to Amelia, helping her to her feet. "Hey, honey, are you okay?"

    As she spoke, Citrine''s gaze swept over Amelia from head to toe, only rxing when she saw there were no visible injuries.

    "I''m fine, Citrine. Really," Amelia sniffled, her eyes rimmed with tears. She''d convinced herself Citrine wouldn''te-but here she was, danger and all.

    Only after Amelia reassured her did Citrine turn to Alicia. "What is it you want?" Alicia grinned. "You know why I trashed Amelia''s ce, don''t you?"

    Just imagining Citrine groveling before her in a few minutes had Alicia feeling triumphant.

    Citrine narrowed her eyes, then suddenly smiled. "Because of me."

    She''d known exactly what kind of mind games Alicia was ying from the moment she arrived.

    Her answer was so direct that Alicia was caught off guard-this wasn''t the reaction she''d expected. But she shrugged it off.

    "Well, at least you''re self-aware," Alicia sneered, shifting all the me onto Citrine. "If it weren''t for you, I''d never have messed with the Lawsons. Amelia''s only in this mess because she''s friends with you. Don''t you feel even a little guilty?"

    Citrine''s expression didn''t waver. She didn''t even hesitate. "Why should I feel guilty?" she replied. "I haven''t done anything wrong."

    Alicia''s usations hit a wall, her words faltering. Frustrated, she snapped, "If you hadn''t crossed me, Amelia wouldn''t be caught up in this!"

    "You''re the one harassing Amelia. You''re the one who smashed up their restaurant. What does that have to do with me? Did I make you do any of this?" Citrine shot back, genuinely baffled by Alicia''s twisted logic.

    For a moment, Alicia had noeback. Fuming, she red at Amelia instead.

    "So this is your so-called ''best friend,'' huh? You think she cares about you, but clearly, you''re the only one who feels that way."

    Amelia pressed her lips together, silent.

    Sensing an opening, Alicia pressed on. "If you hadn''t gotten involved with her, do you really think today would have happened?"

    The room fell so quiet, you could hear a pin drop-until Amelia''s father, Fabian Lawson, broke the silence with a shrill voice. "Amelia! Look at the kind of people you bring into our lives. See what you''ve done to our family! Apologize to this youngdy right now!"

    Fabian shot Alicia a sycophantic smile, groveling like a stray begging for scraps. Dignity didn''t matter anymore-not when fear took its ce.

    "Shut up," Amelia snapped, her cheeks burning with shame at the sight of her father groveling. How was she even rted to people like this?

    Fabian, stung by his daughter''s words, looked as though he wanted to scold her, but when Alicia said nothing, he just pressed his lips together and fell silent.

    A few minutester, the wail of police sirens rang out from the street.

    Alicia''s face drained of color. "Who the hell called the cops?"

    The Chase family was one of Havencrest''s old money dynasties; ordinary people usually didn''t dare cross them. Alicia had gotten away with stunts like this before, hiding behind her family name. No one ever dared get involved until now.

 Chapter 26

    I never imagined I''d end up in such a mess today.

    As the clear, ringing confession echoed through the private room, Alicia''s face shifted from shock to anger and back again.

    "It was me. I called the police."

    Citrine admitted it without hesitation.

    Alicia''s jaw clenched so tightly she looked like she might crack a tooth. Her voice trembled with fury as she spat out, "Now that you don''t have the Iverson family behind you, aren''t you scared of crossing the Chase family?"

    Citrine arched an eyebrow, her tone cool. "If I wasn''t afraid of the Iversons, why would I be scared of you?"

    Alicia wasughably na?ve.

    Citrine had made it to twenty-eight in herst life-she hadn''t grown up cowering in fear, and a high schooler''s threats hardly rattled her.

    Amelia''s mother, Cindy Lawson, flinched when the police siren wailed outside. She clutched her little boy close, wrapping him up tightly before looking up at Citrine with trembling eyes. "Please, just tell the police it was a mistake," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know you and Amelia are good friends, but we''re just ordinary people-we don''t want any trouble. And Amelia''s brother is still so young, he needs us..."

    Cindy looked years older than she was, her voice almost inaudible, her eyes darting everywhere but Citrine''s face, as if she was hiding some secret shame.

    Citrine ignored her, turning instead to Amelia, her gaze steady and resolute. "Trust me, Amelia. I''ll protect you. Your family will be fine."

    Just then, two police officers entered the room.

    "Who called this in?"

    Citrine raised her hand and stepped forward.

    "It was me. These people trashed this family''s shop."

    She exined everything to the officers,ying out the sequence of events in clear detail.

    In the end, everyone was taken down to the station. Because Citrine was a minor,

    the police reached out to Raymond as her guardian.

    At the station, Citrine cooperated fully, giving her statement.

    While she waited, Alicia''s parents suddenly arrived.

    When Fabian and Cindy heard that the other party wanted to settle for $10,000, their eyes lit up instantly.

    They agreed on the spot, signing the settlement papers without hesitation.

    With the money in hand, they took their son and left the station,pletely ignoring Amelia, who was left standing alone in the hallway.

    Watching her family walk away together, Amelia felt like she couldn''t breathe. As soon as they were gone, Alicia shot Citrine a triumphant, taunting look. Johnnie Chase, Alicia''s father, followed his daughter''s gaze. He sized Citrine up, his beer belly straining against his shirt, his face twisted with open disdain.

    "So you''re Citrine?" he sneered. "A nobody like you thinks you can mess with the Chase family? Do you have any idea what happens to people like that?"

    Citrine stared at the father and daughter, their resemnce making her skin crawl.

    She repliedzily, "I don''t know what''ll happen to me, but I do know the Chase family''s luck is about to run out."

    Johnnie snorted, "Big words for a little girl. You really think you can make a difference? Look at what happened today. You can call the cops ten times, and the result will be the same maybe just cost me a bit more money."

    He barely finished before a cold, steely voice sounded from the doorway.

    "Maybe she can''t take you down, but I promise you-I can bury you."

    Citrine''s head snapped toward the door.

    Raymond strode in, purposeful and unblinking. He reached Citrine in a few long strides and spun her around to face him, his hand firm on her shoulder. Their eyes met, and she saw real worry in his gaze.

    For the first time, Citrine realized-right now, Raymond was genuinely concerned for her.

    "Thank God you''re alright," Raymond breathed, finally rxing when he saw she hadn''t been hurt at all.

 Chapter 27

    Raymond arrived at the police station, and the officers didn''t waste a second before filling him in on everything that had happened.

    Even though he''d steeled himself for bad news, his heart still skipped a beat when he heard just how bold Citrine had been-marching over here all by herself. He almost scolded her on the spot, but the moment he caught sight of her, the words died on his lips.

    Johnnie barely reacted when he heard someonee in, but when he realized who it was, all the arrogance drained from his face. Instead, his expression shifted, cycling rapidly through surprise, panic, and dread.

    Why on earth was Raymond Carmichael here?

    In Havencrest, you could pick a fight with almost anyone-but if you messed with Raymond, you were asking for disaster.

    What was his connection to this penniless girl?

    Forcing a strained smile, Johnnie''s nerves were on edge as he nced at Raymond and asked, "President Carmichael, what brings you here?"

    Raymond''s reply was ice-cold. "It seems Mr. Chase thought he could bully my daughter. How could I not show up?"

    Both Johnnie and Alicia turned pale at once.

    "Citrine is your daughter?" Alicia blurted out, her voice trembling.

    She''d seen Raymond from a distance at a charity g before, so she knew exactly who he was. But wasn''t he supposed to be single? Since when did he have a daughter?

    Raymond ignored her. Instead, he fixed Johnnie with a chilling stare. "You certainly raised quite the daughter, Mr. Chase. Or would you like me to show you the paternity test to prove it?"

    Johnnie''s right eyelid twitched. He spun around and pped Alicia hard across the face. "Who said you could talk?"

    Then, stering a sycophantic smile on his face, he turned back to Raymond. "President Carmichael, this is all just a misunderstanding. Kids fooling around, that''s all. Surely a man like you won''t hold it against us."

    He shot Alicia a look. "Alicia. Apologize."

    Swallowing her pride, Alicia lowered her head. "I''m sorry."

    Citrine didn''t even look at her. She knew Alicia''s apology meant nothing-it wasn''t remorse, just a recognition that the Chase family was no match for the Carmichaels.

    Raymond could see it as clearly as Citrine did. He snorted in disdain and dismissed them both with a wave, not deigning to waste another word on either father or daughter.

    "What did I do to deserve such a useless child?" Johnnie snapped, his frustration boiling over as he watched Raymond and Citrine prepare to leave. He pped Alicia again, harder this time.

    Alicia pressed a hand to her stinging cheek, fighting back tears, but she didn''t dare make a sound.

    The Chase family''s business had taken a nosedive in recent years; they couldn''t afford another scandal.

    Desperation flickered in Johnnie''s eyes. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees in front of Citrine, his gaze pleading.

    "Ms... Ms. Carmichael, it was my foolish daughter''s mistake. Please, I''m begging you¡ªask your father to spare the Chase family."

    Raymond looked at Citrine too. If she wanted to show mercy, he wouldn''t object.

    The silence in the room was suffocating. Then Citrine''s cool, clear voice rang out.

    "No."

    The Chase family was a techpany, specializing in smartphones andputers-cutting-edge stuff. In her previous life, right after she''d graduated high school, the Chase family had been exposed for stealing research from small, up-anding firms.

    With a track record like that, they didn''t deserve a second chance.

    Raymond nced at his daughter, approval shining in his eyes.

    He''d half expected her to plead for the Chases, thinking her youth might make her soft-hearted. Clearly, he''d underestimated her.

    Mercy for those who hurt you is cruelty to yourself.

    Raymond had never believed in turning the other cheek-he had only contempt

    for those foolish enough to do so.

    Johnnie and Alicia looked utterly defeated, drained of all hope.

    No matter what Johnnie said, Raymond wouldn''t budge.

    "From now on, the Carmichaels will have nothing to do with the Chase family," Raymond dered.

    With that, he took Citrine by the arm and led her out, leaving nothing but cold silence behind.

 Chapter 28

    As soon as she stepped out of the police station, Citrine was stopped at the entrance by Amelia.

    "I''ll wait for you in the car," Raymond said, casting a nce at Citrine. He headed to the parking lot, leaving the two women alone.

    Now it was just the two of them standing by the entrance.

    "It was your choice to get involved. I''m not going to apologize, and I don''t feel guilty about it."

    Citrine was the first to break the uneasy silence. She knew that after today, she was likely to lose this friend.

    A restless irritation simmered in her chest, making her wordse out sharper than she intended.

    After a moment, she added, "I told you I''d have your back. The Chase family won''t ever be a threat to you or your family. That much, I can promise."

    Amelia''s heart twisted with guilt. She hurried to reassure her, "Citrine, I never asked you to apologize. And there''s no reason for you to feel guilty."

    She had never med Citrine for any of it.

    Citrine had always tried to help her, but her own family never appreciated it. In the end, for the sake of money, they signed the settlement papers. Now it was Amelia who felt she''d let Citrine down.

    "From now on, just pretend you don''t know me at school. I can''t promise there won''t be another family like the Chases who''ll try to make things hard for you."

    Citrine looked at her, her voice distant and t, as if she were a porcin doll¡ª beautiful, cold, and on the verge of shattering.

    Amelia had never seen Citrine so resolute before.

    She was saying all the right things to push her away, but the look in her eyes was pleading-don''t leave me.

    For the first time, Amelia felt she truly understood her. And her heart ached for Citrine.

    She smiled at her, just like she used to.

    "You''re my best friend. Why would I ever pretend I don''t know you?" she said, her voice steady and certain.

    "Then I''ll see you tomorrow."

    Citrine froze for a beat, the distance in her eyes melting away. Genuine warmth spread across her face in a rare, heartfelt smile.

    They were still friends.

    "See you tomorrow."

    The Chase family''s fortunes had been dwindling for years. When the Carmichael family abruptly announced they were cutting ties, rumors spread like wildfire. People spected that the Chases must have seriously offended the Carmichaels, and one by one, their business partners began to pull out as well.

    Even shareholders started demanding their money back. The entire Chase family business was thrown into chaos.

    In just one night, Johnnie Chase had begged every contact he could think of, but nothing helped. He looked as if he''d aged ten years overnight.

    He thought things couldn''t possibly get any worse, but the next day, news broke that Chase Group Holdings had stolen research from a string of smallpanies.

    Attached was a chart listing everypany whose work had been stolen.

    The story shot straight to the top of the trending news.

    Three dayster, another bombshell dropped: Chase Group Holdings had been acquired.

    Citrine happened to see the news at the same moment her grandfather called.

    "My dear girl, I''ve had the paperwork done-Chase Group Holdings is now under your name," Ogden''s voice boomed with pride over the phone.

    This was the first time Citrine had ever asked him for a favor, and Ogden was positively delighted.

    "Thank you, Grandpa." Citrine smiled, calm andposed. Everything was unfolding just as she had nned.

    Ever since the day she''de back, she''d set her sights on the Chase family, and what happened with Amelia had simply elerated her timeline.

    In the end, the only surprise had been Raymond''s involvement.

    But even without him, she would have taken over the Chases anyway.

    "You''re growing up so fast, sometimes I can hardly keep up with you," Ogden said with a sudden sigh on the other end of the line.

    Sometimes, he wished his granddaughter''s life could be simpler-happier.

    Citrine paused, then said softly, "No matter how much I grow up, you''ll always be my grandpa. That''ll never change."

    There was a long silence. Finally, Ogden asked, "So you''re the one who leaked the news about the Chases too?" It wasn''t really a question.

    "I did," Citrine answered honestly.

    Ogden Winthrop burst outughing.

    "I knew it! You little fox, you''ve had your eye on the Chases for ages, haven''t you?"

 Chapter 29

    Over the past few years, the rest of the Chase family''s businesses had either floundered or failed outright. If it weren''t for a handful of research breakthroughs barely keeping them afloat, they''d have found themselves locked out of high society entirely.

    The Chase family had crushed countless smallpanies along the way. Many of those were powerless to fight back after the Chases stole their research, and more than a few ended up bankrupt-some even lost everything, families included.

    Frankly, the Chase family had no one but themselves to me for the mess they were in now.

    Ogden, for his part, fully approved of his granddaughter''s choices. As long as she stopped stubbornly doing favors for the Iversons, he''d support just about anything she did.

    And just like that, within a matter of days, the Chase empire copsed.

    When Amelia heard the news, she couldn''t have been more delighted.

    But as juicy as this gossip was, something else left her even more stunned- Citrine''s real identity.

    It was only that night, when she ran into Raymond, that Amelia learned he was Citrine''s biological father.

    The daughter of the Carmichaels-one of the most powerful families in

    Havencrest. Talk about an impressive pedigree.

    Amelia never imagined she''d end up as best friends with someone who was, in

    real life, the kind of heiress people only read about in novels.

    Honestly, even the wildest stories wouldn''t dare take it this far.

    After thinking it over, Amelia suddenly reached a conclusion.

    "Citrine, you were just born for the high life."

    Citrine had just taken a sip of water and sputtered it out,ughing.

    She gave Amelia a serious look. "Why do you say that?"

    Back when she lived abroad, Citrine could barely afford to eat. Did that sound like a charmed life?

    Amelia didn''t even hesitate. "Think about it! The Iversons, who adopted you, are old money. Your biological dad is from a family with even more influence. If that doesn''t prove it, what does?"

    "Face it, Citrine, you were made for good fortune. It''s like fate just wants you to enjoy life."

    Citrine''s eyes turned somber.

    Enjoy life? Then why did happiness always seem so far away, no matter how many times she started over?

    As for money, she never had enough. Or rather, she wanted more much more.

    The Iversons might have been wealthy, but that wasn''t her money to spend. Living with them, she''d always pinched pennies.

    Worse, to them she was little more than a stray they took in out of charity.

    Sawyer and Aline were the masters of the house. When Sawyer was around, Aline would let the family dog eat a meal for his sake. But when he wasn''t home, the house pet was no better than a stray out on the street.

    As for the Carmichaels-she couldn''t bring herself to trust thempletely, either.

    Citrine knew one thing for certain: in this world, she could only rely on herself. The only real security was having enough money and power in her own hands.

    *

    After school, Citrine packed her things and stepped out of the ssroom, only to find someone blocking her way.

    She nced at the girl, then told Amelia to go on ahead.

    Since the Chase family''s downfall, Alicia-once the golden girl-had fallen from grace overnight. In just a few short days, she''d be quieter and more withdrawn than anyone could have imagined.

    Once, Alicia loved being the center of attention. Now, she kept her head down, barely making a sound in ss.

    "You must be feeling pretty smug right now, huh?" Alicia spat, her voice sharp with resentment.

    She looked drained, all traces of her former mour gone.

    "Why would I be?" Citrine replied, genuinely puzzled.

    Alicia pressed on as if she hadn''t heard. "You must be thrilled to see me like this."

    "The Chase family got what they deserved. But seeing you looking like this? I''ll admit, yeah, it''s a little satisfying." Citrine didn''t bother to lie.

    She wasn''t a saint. She couldn''t help feeling hatred for those who''d hurt her in the past.

    In fact, Citrine held grudges and she always paid them back.

    The only reason she hadn''t yet was because the time wasn''t right.

    Alicia stared at her, and for a moment, it was as if she saw the younger Citrine she''d once known.

    "You hate me," Alicia said¡ªnot as a question, but as a simple truth.

 Chapter 30

    Citrine''s eyes suddenly turned cold, lips ttening into a hard line.

    The air went still in an instant.

    No one would have guessed that Citrine and Alicia had once been inseparable as children the kind of best friends who practically shared everything.

    When they were little, Citrine was an adorable, cherubic child, the sort everyone wanted to scoop up and hug.

    She was just three and a half when she first met four-year-old Alicia at preschool.

    Alicia, even then, was obsessed with beauty. The moment she saw Citrine, she was utterly enchanted by her.

    She went home in tears, begging her mother, Irma Chase, to bring Citrine home to be her little sister.

    Back then, Aline and her son hadn''t yet returned to the Iverson family. Citrine was still a little girl wrapped in warmth and affection.

    Faced with the clumsy adoration of a child her own age, Citrine felt awkward and lost.

    After all, the other kids at preschool didn''t like her. The reason was almostughable: she always answered every question the teacher asked and earned the most gold stars.

    Alicia was the first child who ever said she liked her.

    That day became the happiest Citrine had ever had at preschool. When she got home, she carefully chose a gift for her very first friend and brought it to school the next morning to give to her.

    From then on, wherever Citrine went, Alicia was sure to follow.

    But everything changed when Aline brought Jete back to the Iverson family.

    Bit by bit, Citrine lost the love of everyone around her.

    No one in the Iverson family wanted to listen to her anymore.

    Everyone changed-everyone, that is, except Alicia.

    Whenever Citrine was upset, Alicia would always step in front of her, ready to protect.

    She''d say, "Citrine, is that brat picking on you again? Just wait¡ª-I''ll show her not to mess with you."

    She''d say, "Citrine, don''t be sad. Even if no one else believes you, I always will."

    She''d say, "Citrine, I won''t talk to Jete, that annoying pest, ever again. Please don''t be mad at me, okay?"

    She''d say, "Citrine, no matter how much you change, you''ll always be my best friend."

    She''d say, "Citrine, let''s be best friends forever."

    Children make friendships so easily, but sometimes, the smallest storm can tear them apart.

    When they were ten, Alicia came over to y. The housekeeper was off that day; only the two of them and Jete were home.

    That was the day the fire broke out. Citrine and Alicia didn''t notice anything was wrong until the mes began to spread.

    When Citrine realized what was happening, she dashed out of the room and caught sight of Jete, a lighter clutched in her hand.

    "What are you doing?" Citrine shouted, furious.

    Jete justughed, loud and wild.

    "I''m going to burn you alive, Citrine." The fire flickered across her face, making her look monstrous. "Once you''re dead, everything the Iversons own will be mine."

    The look on her face was almost deranged.

    In that moment, Citrine felt as if she were staring at a demon¡ªnot a person.

    Jete was a demon.

    "You''re insane! You''ll kill all of us!" Citrine stormed over and pped Jete hard across the face.

    Jete only keptughing.

    "Go ahead and die, both of you. I''ll survive."

    As thest exit was nearly swallowed by mes, Jete, with a burst of

    desperate strength, shoved Citrine aside and bolted for the door.

    Just as she reached it, something heavy crashed down from above. Jete had

    no time to dodge; it struck her directly.

    The fire raged on.

    Then, from behind the door, Sawyer''s voice rang out.

    "Alicia! We''re saved!" For a moment, hope lit up Citrine''s eyes. She wrapped the wet nket tighter around Alicia, shielding her from the smoke and heat.

    Momentster, Sawyer appeared through the mes.

 Chapter 31

    Citrine waved frantically at Sawyer, her voice desperate. "Dad! Help us!"

    Sawyer heard her and turned in their direction, about to rush over-when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jete on the other side of the room.

    He stopped short.

    In that instant, Citrine''s heart shot into her throat.

    The fire had grown too fierce-there was only time to save one of them.

    Sawyer''s gaze lingered on Citrine, and in that look, she saw all of his inner turmoilid bare. But the moment passed; his decision hardened, and he turned away, running straight toward Jete.

    Citrine knew, with a cold certainty, that she had been abandoned again.

    As Sawyer carried Jete through the mes to safety, Citrine gave up any hope that he would turn back for her.

    The fire roared, closing in. There was no time to feel hurt-she barely had time to think at all.

    Alicia, cradled in her arms, was choking on the thick smoke, her eyes squeezed shut, her small body going limp.

    Citrine forced herself to stay calm. Just when she thought they were both doomed, she caught sight of a window in the far corner. An idea flickered to life.

    Risking the searing heat, she darted back into the bedroom, grabbed a nket, soaked it in water, and threw it over her shoulders. Then she hurried back to Alicia''s side.

    "Alicia, hold on," she urged, shaking her friend gently.

    "I can''t... Citrine, I''m so tired. I think I''m going to die." Alicia''s voice was barely a whisper; she refused to move another step.

    "Don''t say that. We''re getting out of here. I promise," Citrine said, kneeling down and lifting Alicia onto her back.

    Step by shaky step, the slight, determined girl carried her friend toward the window.

    They were almost there when a deafening crash sounded behind them-an explosion sent a shockwave through the room.

    Citrine''s face went pale. Instinctively, she twisted around, shielding Alicia.

    Another st-this one even closer. Blood trickled from Citrine''s ears, and suddenly, the world was silent.

    Writhing on the floor, clutching her head in agony, she somehow forced herself up, wrapped Alicia in the damp nket, and, with every ounce of strength left in her, pushed her friend through the open window. Then Citrine climbed after her and tumbled into the smoky night.

    Someone must have called for help, because soon after, an ambnce arrived and whisked them away.

    When Citrine finally woke again, she was in a hospital bed-alone. Not a single familiar face sat at her bedside.

    The doctor came in, eyes full of pity, but his words were merciless. "Sweetheart, I''m afraid your hearing may nevere back."

    She''d already suspected as much. But hearing it out loud, the grief crashed over her, and she wept alone in that sterile room for an entire day.

    Sawyer came the next morning.

    He looked terrible.

    But he didn''t ask how she''d escaped, or if she was hurt. The first words out of his mouth were cold and sharp: "Why did you do it?"

    Citrine blinked, lost. "Do what?"

    He said nothing just red at her, then struck her hard across the face.

    His handnded right over her left ear. It throbbed, then faded into a terrible, utter silence. She couldn''t hear a thing from that side.

    "How could you be so cruel?" Sawyer spat. "Do you hate your sister that much? Did you want her to burn?"

    The physical pain,yered on top of the heartbreak, pushed Citrine over the edge. She screamed at Sawyer, sobbing, "It wasn''t me! It was her! She tried to kill me¡ª she wanted me to die in there!"

    In that moment, she lost all control.

    But no matter how she pleaded afterward, no matter how she tried to exin, no one believed her. Not a single soul.

 Chapter 32

    Everyone assumed it was Citrine who started the fire-that she''d tried to kill Jete.

    Overnight, she became the Iverson family''s pariah.

    Later, when she went back to school, Citrine sought out Alicia, and Alicia promised she''de to the house that night to testify on her behalf.

    That evening, Citrine was in high spirits; finally, she would clear her name. But reality was cruel.

    The girl who once stood by her side through everything-Alicia-pointed at her and said, word by word, "It was her. She''s the one who tried to burn Jete alive."

    Thest light in Citrine''s eyes flickered out.

    From that moment on, she lost her left ear-and her best friend.

    Citrine pulled herself out of the memory.

    Suddenly, sheughed.

    "Why shouldn''t I hate you?" she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. Betrayal was the one thing she despised most.

    Alicia bit her lip, then pressed on, "So this is why you''re taking revenge on me?" Citrine shook her head. "The Chase family brought this on themselves. Their downfall is their own doing-it has nothing to do with me."

    Yes, she hated Alicia, but taking down Chase Group Holdings, acquiring everything they owned-none of that had anything to do with Alicia personally.

    She was only interested in what the Chase family was worth.

    "Is there any way to save my family?" Alicia''s voice trembled. She already knew the answer, but saying it aloud, she couldn''t help but hope-just a little.

    After all, Citrine had once risked her life to protect her.

    Alicia knew, deep down, even her own parents might not have done the same. Citrine didn''t hesitate for a second; she crushed Alicia''s hope without mercy. "No. I''m not letting go of your family."

    Alicia gave a bitter, broken smile. In that moment, regret washed over her.

    For years, she''d owed Citrine an apology. Now, she was afraid if she didn''t say it, she''d never get another chance. "I''m sorry." The words came out years toote.

    Since that day, guilt gnawed at her every time she saw Citrine. Over time, that guilt twisted into something darker. She started to resent Citrine for cutting her out.

    She hated that Citrine ended their friendship because of what happened.

    That hatred festered, warped her, made her pick fights, bully and provoke Citrine at every turn.

    Bit by bit, she became more like the rest of the Chase family.

    Looking back now, the kind, gentle girl she''d once been seemed like a stranger.

    Things hade this far-there was nothing left to hide.

    "I didn''t mean to lie back then."

    She finallyid everything out for Citrine. "My dad forced me. He said Jete was the real Iverson heiress, and if I didn''t lie to protect her, if I crossed the Iversons, he''d throw Mom and me out of the family. He''d let his mistress and her son move in instead."

    Citrine listened quietly, but there wasn''t a trace of surprise on her face. It was as if she''d known all along.

    Alicia nced at her, face going pale. "You knew?"

    "I did." Citrine nodded. She''d known for a long time-Jete had told her everything.

    After the fire, Aline had already made sure the Chase family was in on it.

    Alicia''s expression twisted with shame. Citrine looked at her and let out a cold, scornfulugh.

    "Did you really think telling me all this now would make me forgive you?"

    Alicia pressed her lips together, silent.

    Seeing Alicia so lost and broken, Citrine gave her a smile-sharp and merciless. "My biggest regret was saving your life that day."

    "When I was ten, I lost my left ear. My best friend, Alicia, died in that fire too."

    With that, Citrine picked up her bag and walked away, leaving Alicia standing there, empty and alone.

 Chapter 33

    Monday.

    The results of Havencrest Preparatory Academy''s monthly exams were out.

    The school''s announcement board was absolutely swamped-three, four rows deep with students craning for a glimpse.

    At Primus Academy, every monthly exam was its own kind of trial by fire. The results didn''t just mean bragging rights-they could decide whether a student stayed or went. This time of the month always brought a wild swing of emotion: some kids grinned ear to ear, others could barely hold back tears.

    Today, more than a few students were sobbing their hearts out.

    Citrine and Amelia shoved their way from the outermost edge right into the crowd.

    As soon as they made it through, Citrine looked up¡ªand, as luck would have it, her eyesnded right at the top of the rankings.

    Citrine Carmichael. Her name zed in bold at number one.

    ss Rank: 1. Total Score: 748.

    Just beneath her was Jete, in second ce with 720.

    Then came Alicia, third, with 718.

    Meanwhile, Amelia was busy scanning up the list from the very bottom. After what felt like an eternity, she finally spotted her own name at number 300.

    She couldn''t contain herself. "Oh my god, Citrine, I made it to 300th! That''s a hundred spots higher thanst time!"

    Then she blurted, "Wait, where are you? I''ve been searching forever and I can''t find your name."

    "Right here." Citrine nodded toward the top of the board.

    Amelia followed her gaze, and when she saw the name, her eyes went wide as saucers.

    She had to double-check-then triple-check-before she believed it.

    Suddenly aware of the packed crowd around them, Amelia pped her hand over her mouth.

    "Citrine, let''s get out of here," she whispered, grabbing Citrine''s arm and pulling her away from the throng.

    Citrine let herself be tugged along, a little dazed.

    Once they were outside, away from prying eyes, Amelia lowered her voice.

    "Citrine, just between us-did you cheat?"

    "Huh?" Citrine couldn''t helpughing at that.

    "How else could you possiblye in first? There''s no way you could''ve jumped

    that high," Amelia''s face grew serious, worried for her friend.

    For a moment, the two stared at each other in silence. Then Citrine burst outughing.

    She ced a hand over her heart, looking Amelia straight in the eye. "I swear, I didn''t cheat."

    Amelia studied Citrine''s earnest expression. She didn''t seem like she was lying. Then she remembered the notebook Citrine had loaned her before. Suddenly, it all made sense-Citrine really was the real deal.

    Amelia''s mind shed back to something she''d noticed before: Citrine''s monthly test scores never seemed to swing much, and her rank was always steady.

    With a sudden realization, Amelia''s eyes lit up.

    "Citrine, you know, I just realized how amazing I must be."

    "What?" Citrine blinked, caught off guard.

    "I mean, to have someone as incredible as you for a friend!" Amelia could hardly believe her luck.

    Citrine smiled and said sincerely, "Well, that''s because you''re just as remarkable." Something in Amelia''s heart seemed to flutter at that. For a moment, she felt on top of the world.

    That same day, the air inside the Iverson family''s mansion was thick with tension.

    Jete had gone on a rampage, hurling anything not nailed down. Her bedroom looked like a hurricane had hit.

    The housekeepers stood trembling at the door, barely daring to breathe. No one wanted to be the next to face the youngdy''s wrath.

    Aline, watching her daughter''s red-rimmed eyes, silently cursed Citrine a thousand times over.

    Jete refused to believe what she''d seen. She kept muttering under her breath, "No way. Citrine''s a nobody. How could she possiblye in first?"

    She turned to her mother, her voice tight with certainty. "Mom, there''s no way. Citrine was always at the bottom of the ss. I don''t buy that she could leap to first just like that."

    Jete knew exactly how hard she had to work-burning the midnight oil every night¡ªjust to scrape out a narrow lead at the top. Even with all that effort, the gap between her and second ce was only ever a handful of points. Thepetition was relentless; victory never came easy.

 Chapter 34

    But Citrine had overtaken her with almost no effort at all-she''d scored more than twenty points higher, winning first ce as if it were nothing.

    Jete felt utterly humiliated as the runner-up. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

    Aline watched her daughter''s furious expression, lost in thought for a moment.

    Suddenly, old memories surfaced. Her voice grew cold as she asked, "Jete, do you remember why none of the other kids your age liked Citrine when you were little?"

    Jete didn''t think much of it-she scowled and spat out, "It''s her own fault. She was always stealing the spotlight. No wonder she never had any friends."

    Aline smiled faintly but said nothing.

    Her Jete was still too young. Too innocent.

    But Aline knew better.

    Even as a child, Citrine had been shockingly smart. She taught herself how to solve math puzzles meant for much older students; by kindergarten, she was breezing through grade school material, and by grade school, she could handle middle school coursework without breaking a sweat.

    Who could possibly like someone so extraordinary?

    No one wanted to be the "idiot friend" standing next to a prodigy.

    A retired professor from Crestwood University had once evaluated Citrine this way: "She has an exceptional intellect and rare emotional intelligence¡ªa true prodigy. But prodigies are fragile. If she''s protected, there''s no limit to how far she could go."

    Someone so dazzling as a child wouldn''t simply fade into the crowd as she grew up.

    Whether Citrine had been hiding her abilities these past six months, or whether her top score was just a fluke, one thing was certain: this girl couldn''t be allowed to stay.

    Aline nced at her daughter, reaching over to gently pat her head in reassurance. "Don''t worry, Jete. I''ll take care of this for you."

    She would personally remove anyone who dared stand in their way.

    After a few more words offort, Aline checked the time and said, "Alright, calm down. Don''t let your father see you like this."

    At the mention of Sawyer, Jete did her best to smooth her expression.

    Still, she couldn''t let this go.

    The next day at lunch, Jete made a point of bringing up the whole thing in front of Clifford and his two buddies.

    Clifford, a notorious troublemaker in their grade, was famous for breaking rules¡ª smoking behind the gym, sneaking drinks, picking fights. He never cared about honor rolls or star students.

    But even he knew that Citrine was usually near the bottom of the sophomore ss-just like him, always bringing up the rear.

    And now, she''d somehowe in first.

    When he heard Jete''s story, Clifford nearly choked on his food, barely managing to swallow before blurting out, "Wait...are you serious?"

    Jete nodded, looking as if she''d been wronged.

    She let out a sigh, feigning nonchnce. "My sister was always near the bottom, but somehow on this monthly test, she scored more than twenty points higher than me. I just don''t get it."

    "She must be really something," Jete added, her voice tinged with sarcasm. Clifford narrowed his eyes. He''d always known Jete was top of their ss. No way Citrine could beat her by that much.

    He didn''t even hesitate: "She must have cheated. No other way."

    Laird, still sore from the p he''d gotten from Citrinest time, nodded eagerly. "Yeah, Jete, she''s just jealous of you. She cheated to get ahead of you- that''s gotta be it."

    "Don''t worry, Jete," Laird said, thumping his chest. "I''ll make her apologize to you. Promise."

    He still remembered how Citrine had lost her temper before. If she saw him today, she''d definitely regret it.

    In his mind, Laird was already plotting exactly how he''d make Citrine pay when she finally had to say she was sorry.

 Chapter 35

    After lunch, Clifford and Laird brought Jete with them to the sophomore homeroom-ss 8.

    As soon as the ss rep spotted their group lingering in the hallway, she ducked back into the ssroom.

    "Citrine Carmichael, wake up!" She gave Citrine a rough shake, not bothering to be gentle.

    Jolted awake from her mid-day nap, Citrine blinked at her, startled and a little dazed.

    Sybil wasn''t angry, but somehow she still felt nervous under Citrine''s steady gaze. For a moment, her mind went nk, and she forgot what she was supposed to say.

    After an awkward pause, Citrine finally broke the silence.

    "You''re interrupting my nap," she said tly, her tone as cold as if she were talking to a stranger.

    Sybil felt a pang of difort at the brush-off. She pointed out the window toward the group waiting outside and mumbled, "I just wanted to tell you-someone''s here to see you."

    Citrine followed her gaze, and her expression instantly soured. Everyone knew she''d cut ties with the Iverson family, and now this girl was acting as their messenger-her motivations weren''t hard to guess.

    "Can''t you see I''m sleeping? Not going," Citrine replied, blunt and dismissive.

    Sybil hadn''t expected her to be so difficult. She looked wounded. "Why are you being like this? That''s really hurtful."

    Citrine nearlyughed at that, her irritation barely concealed. "Sensitive much?" she shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

    "What?" Sybil was genuinely confused.

    Citrine let out a short, sharpugh. "I don''t even know you. How am I supposed to act around you? Bow and scrape?"

    Sybil stared at her in disbelief. "You don''t know who I am?"

    They were in the same ss, after all-and Sybil was the ss rep, for heaven''s sake. She felt as if her pride had been stomped into the ground.

    "Who are you, exactly?" Citrine searched her memory but came uppletely nk.

    Her words drew a round ofughter from the ssmates nearby.

    Ignoring themotion, Citriney her head back on the desk, ready to drift off again.

    Fuming, Sybil shot an apologetic shrug at the people waiting outside, signaling that she''d tried her best.

    Outside the ssroom, Clifford''s patience finally snapped. He strode in, not bothering with pleasantries, and grabbed the thickest book he could find from a nearby desk. He hurled it straight at Citrine.

    She shot up from her seat just as the book clipped her temple, the spine cutting her skin. Blood began to trickle down the side of her face-a shocking sight.

    "Oh my God, she''s bleeding!" someone gasped.

    But Citrine acted as if she hadn''t even noticed, her calm almost unnerving. By all rights, she should have been furious, but not a hint of emotion showed on her face. Even when she wasn''t smiling, she never looked harsh or vtile-she didn''t seem like the kind of person who would lose her temper.

    But then, in the blink of an eye, something no one expected happened.

    Right in front of everyone, Citrine drove her foot hard into Clifford''s chest.

    He hadn''t seen iting. The blow sent him crashing backward into the sharp edge of a desk, grimacing in pain,pletely humiliated.

    Citrine actually smiled.

    "I''ve already severed ties with the Iverson family," she said, her voice cold and clear. "If youe harassing me again, I won''t hesitate to put you on the floor every time."

    Clifford felt like his ribs might crack, but before he could recover, Citrine stepped forward and stomped down hard onto his chest, grinding her heel in for emphasis.

    She leaned in, voice low and icy. "Let this be a lesson."

    Her tone was calm, but the force behind her actions was anything but she looked ready to grind him into dust.

    Clifford used every ounce of strength he had, but he couldn''t budge her foot an inch. In that moment, he understood just how much Citrine despised him.

    The whole exchange happened so quickly that everyone was left stunned. No one had imagined that, for all her calm demeanor, Citrine could hit back-and hit hard.

 Chapter 36

    Laird and Jete were visibly shaken, fear etched across their faces.

    "Let go of him, right now." Laird hurried over and pulled Citrine''s foot off Clifford''s chest. This time, Citrine didn''t resist; she simply allowed him to move her foot aside.

    "Clifford, are you alright?" Laird helped Clifford to his feet, his expression stony as he shot a cold re at Citrine. "Have you lost your mind? He''s your brother." Citrine cast a look of utter disdain at Clifford, clicking her tongue in annoyance.

    "Say whatever you want about me, but spare me the melodrama."

    Clifford, still clutching his aching chest where she''d stepped on him, couldn''t help but cough at her words.

    Laird''s face darkened. In that moment, he realized just how much Citrine had changed.

    Seeing their reactions, Citrine felt a surge of satisfaction.

    If only Jete would keep her mouth shut, she thought, she''d be even happier.

    But of course, Jete piped up, her voice trembling with wounded innocence. "Sis, how could you hurt your own brother?"

    She looked genuinely upset, as if she was only standing up for Clifford out of simple sibling loyalty.

    Citrine couldn''t help but marvel-Jete truly wasn''t afraid of getting pped, was she?

    Citrine was about to reply when Laird suddenly stepped protectively in front of Jete, his eyes wary.

    "Citrine, you owe Jete an apology."

    Citrine raised an eyebrow, her gaze flitting between them, her toneced with

    sarcasm.

    "So, what''s the charge this time?"

    She''d been med for countless false usations by these two over the years; Jete''s tricks were old news by now.

    Laird let out a derisive snort, raising his voice as if he wanted the whole world to hear,

    "You cheated on your exams and stole Jete''s top spot. Don''t you think you owe her an apology?"

    The shout carried across the room, drawing the attention of every student in ss Eight. Heads turned, eyes narrowing.

    In truth, Citrine had just scored first in the entire year, and plenty of ssmates were jealous. The rumor mill had been churning-people whispered she must have cheated.

    Now, with someone voicing their suspicions out loud, several students eagerly chimed in.

    Citrine gave a cold, bitterugh, suddenly understanding the setup.

    "So this is what all the drama is about-my exam results. Jete, you really haven''t changed a bit."

    That idiot, she thought, could only ever convince these other fools to fight her battles.

    "Sis, I didn''t do anything." Jete blinked, tears welling in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks in perfect, glistening drops.

    Citrine couldn''t help but admire her-what a waste of talent not to be an actress.

    Ignoring Jete, Citrine met the suspicious stares around her and spoke, her voice clear and steady.

    "I didn''t cheat on that exam. Everyone knows the testing room is covered by cameras. The school administration isn''t stupid-they would have discussed my results and only published them if they were sure there was no problem. And you all know the school has zero tolerance for cheating. If I really had cheated, they wouldn''t just withhold my grades-they''d have punished me, too."

    As her words rang out, several students seemed to reconsider, doubt flickering in their eyes.

    But some still refused to believe she could honestly have scored so high. "Citrine, you''ve always been at the bottom of the ss. Now you''re suddenly top of the year? Does that seem realistic to you?" Laird was the first to challenge her.

    Other voices joined in, "Yeah, everyone''s seen your grades. Climbing fromst ce to first in a single month? That''s just not possible."

    "We just can''t believe you unless you''ve got some proof," someone else added. "Proof? Fine. I have it." Citrine pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

    The call connected almost immediately.

    She didn''t bother with small talk. "Hey, could youe down to the school? I need you to help me clear something up."

 Chapter 37

    Twenty minutester, an elderly man with silver-streaked hair entered the ssroom, the homeroom teacher of ss 8 trailing closely behind.

    The teacher quickly introduced him. "Everyone, this is Mr. Xavier, our school''s headmaster."

    The announcement stunned the entire ss.

    No one had expected to see the headmaster in person-much less in their ssroom. It felt like an immense honor.

    At Havencrest Preparatory Academy, the headmaster was a reserved figure who rarely appeared on campus. Yet Mr. Xavier was legendary across all Havencrest schools-famous for his unyielding principles and refusal to bow to power.

    Thanks to Mr. Xavier, Havencrest Prep had avoided the unsavory practices guing other elite schools: no wealthy families buying their way in, no teachers ying favorites based on a student''s background. It was a ce where merit truly mattered.

    Every student at Havencrest admired him deeply.

    Now, under dozens of watchful eyes, the headmaster strode straight toward Citrine.

    He caught sight of the blood smeared across her forehead and gave a startled gasp. "Good heavens, Citrine! What on earth happened to you? Come on, let''s get you to the nurse''s office."

    Concern clouded his face.

    But Citrine just wiped the blood from her temple, unfazed. "I''m fine. Actually, I asked you here to help me prove I didn''t cheat on the exam."

    "Cheat? Who''s using you of that?" The headmaster''s expression darkened at her words.

    She shot a nce at the crowd around her, subtly indicating the culprits.

    Mr. Xavier''s eyes hardened, voiceced with warning. "Let me make this clear to you troublemakers-spreading rumors is a crime. Don''t think I won''t call the authorities."

    Hismanding presence was enough to silence most of the students. No one dared utter a word.

    But there are always a few who don''t know when to quit.

    "Headmaster, if you look at Citrine''s grades over the past semester, you''ll see there''s just no way she could improve this quickly. I think you should investigate this thoroughly."

    Clifford, wincing in pain, mustered the courage to speak up.

    He hadn''t expected his appeal to backfire so spectacrly.

    Mr. Xavier didn''t hold back. "Before you open your mouth, try engaging your brain. Are you dense? The Primus Academy testing rooms are monitored from every angle. Do you really think we wouldn''t catch a cheater? We spend millions every year on exam security-you think that''s for fun?"

    "Let me be clear: Citrine could not have cheated. I can personally vouch for her. She aced the entrance exam with perfect scores across every subject-the highest marks in our history."

    "If you still don''t believe it, feel free to review her past tests and transcripts. Her ability to precisely target her scores is something most of you couldn''t master in a lifetime."

    "And if you''re still suspicious, go ahead-quiz her yourself. Ask something tough. If she can''t answer, then maybe you''ll have a case."

    After that, the room was silent. No one dared object.

    Clifford and Laird were left humiliated, but even their bruised egos couldn''t drive them to further protest.

    Though the matter had been settled, the scuffle between Citrine and Clifford couldn''t be ignored. The homeroom teacher summoned both to the office for a stern lecture, and by the end, each received the dreaded "call your parents" slip. After school, the two of them were kept behind in the office.

    They sat side by side, both exuding an air of icy indifference, each trying to outdo the other in silent defiance.

    That''s how Sawyer found them when he walked in the once inseparable siblings, who used to be so close that not even Jete could wedge herself between them, now sitting worlds apart, locked in a chilly standoff aftering to blows.

 Chapter 38

    Sawyer never would have guessed in a million years that the two fighting were actually his own son and daughter.

    He entered the room, first speaking quietly with the teacher to get the gist of what had happened, before striding over to the pair.

    "What on earth is going on with you two?" Sawyer tried to keep his voice down, but the anger bled through all the same.

    Siblings brawling-what an embarrassment.

    Just as he finished scolding them, Sawyer caught sight of the cut on Citrine''s temple and frowned. "What happened to you?" he demanded.

    He reached out a hand to examine the wound, but Citrine recoiled instantly, springing up from her seat and putting as much distance between them as possible.

    Sawyer''s hand hung awkwardly in the air, his expression freezing.

    "Citrine, can we not do this right now?" he pleaded, exasperation heavy in his voice.

    She''d lost count of how many times she''d heard that line. Now, it barely registered just another empty phrase.

    Pointing at Clifford but speaking to Sawyer, Citrine said, "Mr. Iverson, your son is right there. I have nothing to do with you. My real father will pick me up soon." She made sure to stress the word "real."

    Clifford rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Dad, did you hear that? Talk about biting the hand that feeds you."

    Biting the hand that feeds her?

    Citrine let out a sharpugh.

    "Mr. Iverson, I may have lived with your family all these years, but I''ve paid my own way¡ªclothes, food, everything. My allowance? I earned it myself. Not long ago, I even wired fifty million to your ount that was the buyout fee."

    If she hadn''t wanted to sever ties with the Iversons for good, she wouldn''t have left herself penniless.

    Sawyer stayed silent, face unreadable.

    Clifford, however, wasn''t satisfied. "Even so, what about all the times we treated you well? Don''t pretend you don''t remember. If that''s not biting the hand that feeds you, I don''t know what is."

    At that, Sawyer turned to Citrine too, as if curious what she''d say.

    "Treated me well?" Citrine sneered.

    "When, exactly, were you ever kind to me? What gives you the right to spout such shameless nonsense?"

    "Was it kindness when you left me in a burning house?"

    "Was it kindness when you shipped me overseas?"

    "Was it kindness when you told me, since I was little, to always give in to Jete?"

    "Was it kindness when you forgot my birthday, year after year?"

    "Was it kindness when, every time something happened with Jete, you took it out on me?"

    Her words cut with the precision of a scalpel.

    Sawyer winced under her unflinching gaze. The worst part-he couldn''t deny a single thing she''d said.

    Citrine looked at him, and twisted the knife. "Sawyer, I never should have left with you. I regret it."

    "Being your daughter is exhausting."

    She meant every word. Citrine truly, deeply regretted it.

    Sawyer felt a sharp pain in his chest.

    In that moment, he understood, more clearly than ever, that his daughter

    genuinely no longer wanted him in her life.

    "You really don''t want a father anymore?" he managed, voice barely above a whisper.

    "Not anymore," Citrine replied without hesitation. She was never one to waffle or second-guess.

    Seeing him so crushed, Citrine felt a strange, heady surge of satisfaction.

    Just to twist the knife once more, she added, "Sawyer, your love is cheap. Raymond''s different-he has only me. His love is worth far more than yours ever was."

    Sawyer knew she was saying it just to hurt him. They both did.

    And it worked.

    He''d never forget those words for as long as he lived.

    At that moment, Raymond arrived-just in time to hear everything, word for word.

    He allowed himself a subtle, satisfied smile. The girl had excellent judgment.

    After all, when it came to loving her, he could run circles around Sawyer.

 Chapter 39

    When Raymond caught sight of Citrine, the corners of his mouth tightened and his eyes turned cold, a flicker of anger darkening his expression.

    Citrine assumed he was mad at her. She looked away, suddenly uneasy and a

    little guilty.

    After all, back when she''d first returned to the Carmichael family with Raymond, she''d sworn she wouldn''t cause him any trouble.

    Yettely, it seemed like she''d done nothing but make trouble for him.

    As she racked her brain for an exnation, Raymond stalked over, his face thunderous, his voice cold as ice.

    "What happened?"

    There was a tension and worry in his tone that was impossible to miss.

    Citrine hesitated, then replied quietly, "Someone threw something at me." Raymond''s face grew even darker, just as the homeroom teacher walked over. The instant Beatrice saw Raymond, she felt an inexplicable pressure settle over her.

    "Hello, and you are...?" Beatrice asked, not quite sure.

    "Raymond Carmichael, Citrine''s biological father." Raymond shot Sawyer a pointed look, deliberately emphasizing the word "biological."

    It was clear at a nce that this man was no ordinary person. Beatrice immediately thought of the name everyone in Havencrest whispered about with awe, and she began to guess at his identity.

    A biological father and an adoptive father-what kind of emotional minefield was this?

    Beatrice sucked in a quiet breath, forcing herself to remain calm.

    She exined the situation from start to finish in detail for both Raymond and Sawyer.

    Sawyer hadn''t known all the specifics before, so when he heard that Citrine had ced first in thetest exams, he was genuinely surprised.

    "Are you sure, Ms. Beatrice?" Sawyer asked, skepticism in his voice. Citrine had always been at the bottom of her ss in previous monthly exams.

    Beatrice frowned ever so slightly, her irritation barely contained.

    "Mr. Iverson, Citrine was your foster daughter for years-how can you not know how talented she is?"

    Honestly, what kind of father was he?

    Even though she knew the man before her could crush her like an ant if he wanted to, Beatrice couldn''t help but speak her mind.

    It wasn''t exactly a secret at school that Citrine had once been part of the Iverson family. Sawyer had been her father, and yet here he was, casting doubt on his own daughter. The implication stung Beatrice more than she expected.

    Besides, she''d always liked Citrine. She''d suspected early on that the girl was deliberately hiding her abilities, but with all theplicated family drama, Beatrice had never called her out on it.

    When Sawyer remained silent, his expression unreadable, Beatrice forced augh and continued, "Mr. Iverson, I understand your concerns, but I assure you, Citrine didn''t cheat. The principal himself looked into the matter and personally vouched for her integrity."

    The principal of Primus Academy was a respected figure in Havencrest, known for his upright character and unimpeachable reputation.

    He wasn''t the sort to lie for a student.

    Sawyer''s eyes grew distant, and he said nothing more.

    Raymond, for his part, was surprised but never doubted Citrine''s honesty. What caught him off guard was the fact that the principal had intervened on Citrine''s behalf at all. The man was known for being notoriously detached and unwilling to bend rules for anyone.

    "Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Iverson," Beatrice said, "the reason I called you both here is to make sure you understand the seriousness of this situation. More importantly, I hope the two students can find a way to resolve their differences."

    Now that the facts were clear, Beatrice''s main goal was to help the kids mend fences.

    But the words had barely left her mouth when Citrine frowned, clearly unwilling. "No way. I''m not making peace with Clifford," Citrine said tly.

    She knew exactly what kind of person Clifford was. As long as Jete didn''t get her way, Clifford would find every excuse to make her life miserable. There was no chance of reconciliation-not now, not ever.

 Chapter 40

    They would always be enemies. Reconciliation was out of the question.

    Clifford, stung by Citrine''s words and pride, scoffed and snapped, "Even if you begged me, I''d never make peace with you."

    The atmosphere in the office turned icy. Beatrice felt a headacheing on, but she didn''t try to coax the two into making up again.

    That''s when Raymond, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice low and calm.

    "Ms. Beatrice, correct me if I''m wrong, but wasn''t it Clifford who went looking for trouble with my daughter in her ss first?"

    Raymond''s brows drew together, his stare cutting and cold. He radiated an unmistakable air of authority.

    Beatrice nodded, albeit hesitantly.

    Raymond continued, "He harassed my daughter in her ssroom, and then he hit her. He owes her an apology."

    "Why should I apologize?" Clifford shot back, bristling like a cornered cat. "Citrine should apologize to Jete!"

    Everyone turned to stare at Clifford, baffled.

    What did Jete have to do with any of this?

    "What exactly do you mean?" Beatrice pressed.

    Clifford, full of self-righteousness, dered, "Citrine stole first ce from Jete. She should apologize, shouldn''t she?"

    "Stole?"

    Raymond''s frown deepened, his eyes like daggers.

    "Isn''t first ce based on grades? Since when did it be Jete''s personal property?"

    He looked at Clifford, voice icy. "So, by your logic, anyone whoes in first has to apologize to the runner-up?"

    "People who are better don''t need to apologize to those who can''t keep up," Clifford retorted.

    Now everyone was staring at Clifford, perplexed-even Sawyer''s brow creased in disapproval.

    Frustrated, Clifford blurted out, "She cheated, that''s why!"

    Beatrice''s expression turned frosty. "Clifford, the principal already confirmed Citrine did not cheat. Watch your words."

    Raymond''s gaze grew even colder. "If you keep spreading lies, I''ll call the police."

    Clifford, still young and inexperienced, was cowed by Raymond''s stern re and immediately fell silent.

    "Apologize," Raymond demanded, his patience at an end.

    Clifford pressed his lips together, refusing to speak. After a long moment, Sawyer spoke up, his tone frigid.

    "Clifford, apologize."

    Clifford looked at Sawyer, confused. "Dad?"

    Sawyer''s voice was even colder. "Now."

    "...Sorry," Clifford mumbled, his reluctance obvious.

    Citrine merely gave him a cool nce. "If you don''t mean it, don''t bother trying to disgust me."

    She paused, then added, "Even if you were sincere, I wouldn''t ept your apology."

    With that, Citrine took Raymond''s hand. "Let''s go."

    The moment he felt her soft, small hand in his, the harshness in Raymond''s expression melted away.

    "All right," he replied, his voice gentler than anyone had ever heard it.

    Afterward, Citrine apanied Raymond to the hospital for a check-up.

    The results showed she only had a minor scrape.

    Citrine herself didn''t seem concerned, but Raymond was so anxious he insisted the doctor bandage her up thoroughly.

    They ended up arguing about it the whole way home.

    "Is this really necessary?" Citrine sighed in exasperation.

    "Yes," Raymond said firmly, leaving no room for discussion.

    Left with no choice, Citrine relented.

    On the drive back, Citrine watched Raymond at the wheel, her gaze pensive.

    She couldn''t quite figure him out.

    "I''ve caused you so much trouble. Aren''t you angry?" she asked after a long hesitation.

 Chapter 41

    "It would make sense for me to be angry," Raymond said mildly.

    But he didn''t look the least bit angry.

    Citrine searched his face, trying to find any trace of impatience or irritation, but there was nothing just his usual calm.

    Before she could dwell on it, Raymond continued, "You shouldn''t let yourself get hurt."

    "That''s why you''re mad?" Citrine paused, tilting her head and staring at Raymond with wide, unblinking eyes, clearly baffled.

    "What else?" Raymond suddenly smiled.

    Citrine opened her mouth to reply but didn''t say anything. Instead, a strange feeling crept into her chest-something she''d never experienced before. It unsettled her, and instinctively, she tried to push it away.

    After they got home from school, Sawyer called Clifford into his study.

    "Kneel," Sawyer said, his voice cold and sharp, dropping several degrees. "Dad..." Clifford had never seen his father this furious before. He''d always been a little afraid of Sawyer, and now, almost reflexively, he dropped to his knees.

    "Why did you hit your sister?" Sawyer''s mind shed to the blood he''d seen on Citrine''s face earlier that day, and a wave of frustration crashed over him.

    Deep down, he had a sinking feeling that his daughter was drifting further and further away from him.

    That thought terrified Sawyer.

    Clifford looked up, stunned, and protested, "Dad, it''s because she stole first ce from Jete!"

    Sawyer''s eyes narrowed, his gaze suddenly razor-sharp. "Clifford, are you really that much of a fool?"

    Everyone knew Citrine hadn''t cheated.

    Clifford''s heart sank. He scoffed stubbornly, "She''s not my sister. Jete is my real sister."

    As he spoke, his fists clenched, and he couldn''t quite meet Sawyer''s eyes.

    The principal had already exined everything. Deep down, Clifford knew Citrine hadn''t cheated.

    So why did he have to say this?

    He couldn''t answer that himself.

    Then Sawyer''s icy voice broke the silence, freezing Clifford in ce, draining all color from his face.

    "Clifford, your petty schemes areughably transparent. If you every a hand on Citrine again, don''t expect me to show you any mercy-father or not."

    To silence the rumors at school, the principal personally recorded a statement for the school''s website the next day, clearing Citrine''s name. He even uploaded scans of all her monthly exam papers from the past six months for everyone to

    see.

    After that, even the most stubborn skeptics had nothing left to say.

    Citrine might have ranked near the bottom of the ss before, but her test papers were more impressive than those of any top student.

    Anyone who took the time to look could see it: she only ever answered the hardest questions, ignoring the easy onespletely. And the problems she solved? Even the former top student couldn''t have managed them.

    Whether she''d cheated or not was blindingly obvious.

    Overnight, Citrine became the talk of the school.

    The funny thing was, she had no idea.

    She''d taken a few days off to focus on business.

    Her familypany had just undergone aplete rebranding. Now, the Chase family business was officially the CICI Group.

    CICI Group focused on four main areas: artificial intelligence, electronics, medical devices, and biopharmaceuticals.

    During this time, Citrine had ramped up production of the various medications she''d developed, causing a stir in the medical world and turning a handsome profit.

    She invested every cent back into hertest project: an intelligent medical robot.

    On the day the first prototype, Kane, was introduced to the world, Citrine hosted a showcase and invited industry leaders from all over to attend.

    Naturally, the Carmichael Group was among the invitees.

    Raymond and Adler had barely set foot inside before the spectacle took their breath away.

 Chapter 42

    The robotics booth was absolutely packed-so crowded that Raymond and Adler couldn''t even get close. They had to settle for watching the action on the giant screen set up in the exhibition hall.

    At that moment, a sharply dressed man was conversing with the medical Al robot, Kane.

    With a skeptical sneer, the man nced at the robot and said, "Looks fancy enough, but I bet it''s useless in practice."

    Someone nearby chimed in, "Yeah, it looks high-tech, but the market''s already flooded with stuff like this. It''s no different from the housekeeper robot I''ve got at home."

    As people began to drift away in disinterest, Kane''s mechanical voice rang out, "Sir, I''m equipped with many features! Would you like to try me out?"

    The man paused, curiosity piqued. "Alright, what exactly can you do?"

    "My capabilities include, but are not limited to: medical diagnostics, imaging analysis, prescription assistance, smart health monitoring, appointment scheduling, online pharmacy ess, rehab training, physical checkups, emotional support for seniors, homework help for students, and more."

    The list was impressive, though most people shrugged it off as marketing fluff.

    The man didn''t seem convinced by the robot''s boasts.

    He gave a dismissiveugh. "Fine. Diagnose me, then."

    "Activating diagnostic system. Initiating full-body scan," Kane replied.

    The man took a step back, cooperating with the scan. Kane''s sensors beeped steadily.

    "Diagnosisplete," Kane announced.

    Suddenly, the screen filled with a string of technical medical terms. The man nced at the results-and froze. "Tumor? That can''t be right. I had a checkup justst year."

    But the idea gnawed at him. Uneasy, he hurried off to the hospital.

    One after another, people lined up to try Kane''s features themselves.

    The results were scarily urate.

    For once, Raymond''s usual levity vanished, reced by a rare seriousness.

    Meanwhile, Adler''s thoughts turned to their ownpany''s stalled project. With technology like this on disy, it suddenly seemed like their project might never get off the ground. He was at a loss for words.

    After a moment, Raymond broke the silence. "What do you think?"

    Adler didn''t hesitate. "It''s incredible."

    "After this expo, CICI is definitely making its mark in Havencrest. Looks like we just gained a formidable new rival."

    Raymond said nothing more, but he couldn''t help thinking the same.

    They wandered off to check out a few other medical service robots. Afterward, just as they were heading to the conference hall for a presentation, a man''s shouting stopped them in their tracks.

    A booming voice carried across the crowd: "My God, I underestimated CICI. I owe them an apology. If not for Kane, I might have missed my best shot at treatment."

    "Hey, aren''t you the guy from this morning-the one with the tumor?" someone called out, recognizing him instantly.

    "That''s me."

    Suddenly, everything clicked for the people around them.

    In just a single day, Kane had be a sensation. Everyone was eagerly awaiting its officialunch.

    At that moment, Raymond realized he was up against an opponent unlike any he''d ever faced.

    What made it even more unsettling was that he couldn''t dig up any information about CICI''s founder. Whoever was behind this had to be someone extraordinary.

    Meanwhile, Citrine had no idea she''d already been pegged as a rival by thepetition.

    With herpany finally hitting its stride, Citrine was overwhelmed by the workload. She found herself thinking, for the first time, that she really needed an assistant.

    The next day, she posted a job listing online.

    CICI had be the hottest new name in Havencrest, and people were moring to get a foot in the door.

    Overnight, Citrine''s inbox was flooded with thousands of applications.

 Chapter 43

    After the giarism scandal, Citrine became infamous at Primus Academy, earning herself the nickname "the genius" among the students.

    But the storm was far from over. Someone posted two new videos on the school forum: one showed Citrine on her knees in a hospital corridor, the other captured the moment she pushed Jete down a flight of stairs.

    Thement section quickly descended into a torrent of insults.

    Within hours, the post shot straight to the trending list.

    The fury spilled over. People followed the links from the forum all the way to Havencrest Preparatory Academy''s board, and from there, they flooded Citrine''s personal social media with abuse.

    "Unbelievable. There''s no limit to how twisted some people can be. Is she even human?"

    "Ladies, this girl is the top student at Havencrest. The so-called genius."

    "Genius? Please. That''s just abel. Nothing more."

    "She''d be nothing without the Iverson family''s money. Let''s be real-she only topped the ss because they groomed her. Without them, she''d be nobody."

    "I heard she paid the Iversons five million when she left, iming she''d repaid their kindness. What a joke. The Iversons are old money-just her expenses over the years must''ve cost way more than five million."

    "A crow will never be a swan, no matter how hard it tries."

    "She''s got some nerve, honestly."

    "Such an ingrate. The Iversons took her in, and now she tries to hurt their real daughter? Vicious doesn''t even begin to cover it."

    "People like her don''t belong at Primus."

    "She''s not even good enough to tie Jete''s shoes."

    "Jete''s got brains and ss-Citrine Carmichael can''t evenpare."

    Citrine scrolled through the vitriol on her phone, idly flipping through post after post. She evenughed out loud at some of the more ridiculousments. But when she saw someone insist she owed her top grades to the Iversons'' "excellent upbringing," the amusement vanished from her face.

    "The nerve of these people," Citrine muttered with a cold snort.

    She didn''t care what they called her, but iming the Iversons were responsible for her achievements¡ªthat was something she couldn''t stomach.

    As if the Iversons deserved any credit.

    For years, she''d paid her own way for everything-clothes, school supplies, even her daily expenses. Aside from sleeping under their roof and the asional meal at their table, Citrine couldn''t recall a single time the Iversons had actually spent money on her.

    The online abuse only intensified. Soon, someone posted her photo online, and malicious users even doctored the image to look like a funeral portrait.

    When Raymond saw the news, he acted immediately-he ordered the trending post taken down and had every photo of Citrine scrubbed from the web.

    He clicked through each ount that had posted the doctored images, his expression thunderous. "Track every one of these IPs and ban their ounts permanently," hemanded.

    They knew nothing about her-yet they hurled the worst kind of hatred at a teenager who''d done nothing to deserve it.

    Raymond swiftly had Adler set up a social media ount for him. He logged in, browsed the school forum, and by the time he was done, his face was icy.

    "If it weren''t for the trending post, I''d never have known my daughter was being bullied like this at school."

    "Leaving her alone to deal with all this... The Iverson family should be ashamed of themselves."

    Adler finished reading through thements as well, his heart aching for the young girl. She was just a kid, and yet she had to endure all of this.

    "Hand me the car keys," Raymond said, rising from his desk and slipping on his coat.

    "Where are you going, sir?" Adler nced at his boss, passing him the keys.

    "I''m going to the school to bring her home," Raymond replied, his face grim but his actions swift.

 Chapter 44

    He didn''t dare imagine what kind of life Citrine had endured all these years with

    the Iverson family, or what she''d been through.

    Raymond was in a foul mood, and his temper showed it.

    Adler hesitated. "But sir, you have a very important meetinging up."

    "I don''t care how important it is. Reschedule everything. I''m going to pick up my daughter-now."

    Raymond''s face was icy cold as he strode out, and not a soul in the office dared approach him.

    Beatrice, who already knew about the mess online, didn''t try to stop him when he came to collect Citrine.

    When Citrine was called out of her ssroom, she was still in a daze.

    "What are you doing here?" she asked, looking up at Raymond. There was no trace of sadness or distress on her face.

    Raymond felt a little of his worry ease.

    He''d thought she''d be hiding somewhere, crying her eyes out. Clearly, he''d underestimated her.

    "I''m here to take you home," he said, ruffling her hair as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

    Citrine stiffened and pulled away, visibly ufortable.

    Raymond''s hand froze in midair. He simply assumed she didn''t like people touching her hair, and didn''t notice the flicker of panic in her eyes.

    During her time with the Iversons, Citrine had often seen them ruffle Jete''s hair¡ªa gesture adults reserved for children they adored.

    But this was the first time anyone had done it for her. For a moment, Citrine felt the warmth of Raymond''s affection.

    But what did he expect in return?

    She lowered her head, lost in thought.

    "What are you thinking about?"

    Raymond had to call her name several times before she snapped back to reality.

    She met his gaze, her expression earnest. "I''m just wondering-what is it about me that''s worth all this effort?"

    What value did she have, to make Raymond treat her so well?

    No matter how hard she tried, she couldn''t figure it out.

    No one loves without a reason.

    Children who''ve never known love tend to doubt it when it finallyes, suspecting it muste with strings attached.

    Citrine was no different.

    "What do you mean?" For the first time in his life, Raymond felt utterly out of his depth. He just couldn''t see what was going on in this child''s head.

    But Citrine''s next words hit him like a punch to the gut.

    "If you''re hoping to get something from me, Raymond, you''re wasting your time."

    She looked straight at him, her face as guileless as ever, but her voice was cold as ice. The words fell like sharp des, cutting deep into Raymond''s heart.

    "No," he said quietly, staring at his daughter, overwhelmed by a wave of sorrow.

    He''d thought that, after everything, the bond between them had grown, even just a little.

    But hearing her t, emotionless words, he finally understood: she believed his kindness came with ulterior motives.

    She had never once opened her heart to him.

    Suddenly, Raymond remembered something he''d always overlooked.

    Citrine had never called him "Dad."

    The realization hit him hard. His face darkened, and a crushing sense of defeat washed over him.

    But what hurt most was the way she''d described herself as a stray, lost and alone. When she spoke those words without the slightest expression, it felt as if something inside him had suddenly shattered.

 Chapter 45

    Citrine could feel the air around Raymond growing colder, bit by bit.

    In this moment, it was as if they''d been transported back to their very first encounter-strangers to the core, each harboring nothing but suspicion and the worst intentions toward the other.

    That felt right, somehow.

    A faint, sardonic smile tugged at Citrine''s lips.

    Warm, sentimental family moments were never her forte; scenes like this were better left to seasoned performers like Jete.

    Raymond, for his part, felt a knot tightening in his chest-he waspletely at a loss for the first time. He couldn''t begin to guess what was running through the girl''s mind, but he knew one thing: this little troublemaker in front of him was just a prickly hedgehog desperate for affection.

    He scoffed, shifting ufortably. "Kid, don''t forget-you''re officially part of the Carmichael family now. I''m your father."

    "What could I possibly want from you?" he went on, voice gruff but not unkind. "I have everything I could ever need. I''m certainly not scheming against a scrappy kid like you."

    Even if he was out of his depth, Raymond had no intention of stripping away her defenses by force. Someday, he believed, she''d let her guard down on her own.

    Citrine stared at Raymond in quiet surprise.

    Wasn''t he supposed to be cold and dismissive? Wasn''t that how he always acted around her?

    Her eyes went wide and round, her whole body frozen like a startled penguin- adorable, though she''d never admit it.

    Raymond reached out and gave her fluffy hair a firm ruffle, chuckling. "Kids are supposed to act like kids. Don''t overthink things. The more you worry, the less lovable you be."

    "I''m not a kid," Citrine grumbled, turning away with a pout. She certainly didn''t care about being cute.

    But in spite of herself, Raymond''s words swept away the gloom that had been hanging over her.

    Suddenly, Citrine remembered something and asked, "By the way, were you the one who got the trending story taken down?"

    If her grandfather hadn''t done it, maybe Raymond was involved.

    Raymond nodded. "Yeah, that was me."

    Citrine regarded him seriously. "Could you let it stay up for a few more days?"

    Taking the story down so quickly only made things easier for whoever was pulling strings behind the scenes.

    Raymond caught her meaning with a single nce. Without hesitation, he agreed.

    On the drive home, Raymond''s phone rang several times, but he declined every call without a second thought. The caller was persistent, though, dialing again and again without giving up.

    Just as Raymond was about to switch off his phone, Citrine''s clear, inquisitive voice cut through the silence. "Aren''t you going to answer? What if it''s something important?"

    She stared at his phone with open curiosity.

    "It''s nothing important," Raymond replied, his gaze hardening as he nced at the familiar number shing on the screen.

    Something crossed his mind, and his expression suddenly steeled. "Citrine, tonight is your grandfather''s sixtieth birthday. Come with me to the party?"

    He fixed her with a look, as if waiting for her answer.

    "Alright," Citrine agreed, unable to refuse when she saw just how much he wanted her there.

    She paused, considering. "Do I need to bring a gift?"

    "No, I''ll take care of that," Raymond assured her.

    He frowned, thinking of his father and the rest of the Carmichael n and their usual theatrics.

    After a moment''s hesitation, he decided to warn her. "The Carmichaels are...plicated. My father''s got a nasty temper. Just stick close to me when we''re there."

    "And steer clear of Manley and Travis Carmichael," he added, his brow furrowing at the mention of father and son. "They''re both a couple of lunatics. I''d rather they not scare you."

    Citrine had no idea what kind of mess she was walking into, but she still nodded her agreement.

    That evening, Raymond went out of his way to hire a styling team just for her.

 Chapter 46

    The entire makeup team was stunned the moment theyid eyes on Citrine.

    They were no strangers to beauty¡ªhaving styled countless celebrities and young heiresses, they''d seen their fair share of stunners. But Citrine was in a league of her own; she was, hands down, the most breathtaking woman they''d ever seen.

    When it came time to start on her makeup, the lead artist found herself hesitating, almost reluctant to touch such perfection.

    "Sweetheart, your skin is incredible!" she eximed. Honestly, this girl would look gorgeous without a single drop of makeup.

    Citrine''splexion was so fair and wless, like the smoothest porcin. The makeup artist couldn''t resist giving her cheek a gentle pinch-it was just too soft, too pristine. She searched for a single imperfection and found nothing.

    All she ended up doing was dusting on a light, barely-there foundation and adding a touch of natural color. There was no need for anything bold; Citrine''s beauty was already dazzling, almost impossible to look at directly.

    It was, without question, the easiest job the artist had ever had.

    Next, the stylist swept Citrine''s hair up into a delicate chignon, framing her petite face and giving her an air of elegance that was still fresh and youthful.

    For her dress, Citrine chose a white, strapless cocktail gown that fell just above her knees. The soft fabric hugged her slender waist, making her look even more delicate-like you could encircle her with just one hand.

    Every inch of skin she showed seemed to glow, especially the graceful lines of her shoulders and neck, and the delicate butterfly-shaped bones on her back that drew everyone''s eyes and held them captive.

    "Jesus, she''s almost unreal," someone from the styling team whispered, unable to tear their gaze away.

    Raymond had always known his daughter was beautiful, but seeing her tonight left him speechless.

    He opened a small box, took out a gleaming white pearl ne, and fastened it gently around Citrine''s neck. Each pearl glimmered softly, ented by sparkling diamonds-luxurious and radiant.

    "This must be worth a fortune?" Citrine ventured. She knew little about jewelry, but she could tell this ne was something special.

    Raymond shook his head. "No, it''s not about the price. It''s a gift from me¡ª wee home, sweetheart."

    Even if it was a littlete.

    It was the first time Raymond had ever called himself her father in front of her. Citrine''s eyes shimmered; she opened her mouth to speak but found her voice caught, so in the end, all she managed was a quiet, "Thank you."

    Raymond knew this girl had built high walls around her heart, and if he wanted to reach her, he needed to show her how much he cared.

    That evening, when they arrived at the grand ballroom, Raymond lifted his right arm. Citrine nced at him, then slipped her hand into the crook of his arm without hesitation.

    The moment they entered, every head in the room turned to look at them.

    Citrine was acutely aware of the attention-she could sense the curiosity, the scrutiny, and, from a few corners, a hint of disdain.

    Raymond ignored the stares and led Citrine straight toward Weston.

    Weston sat at the center of the room, surrounded by people, holding court like some kind of king.

    He barely nced up when Raymond approached, but when his gazended on the girl beside his son, his brows knit together, and a flicker of disappointment shed across his face.

    "You really brought this nonsense here? What do you think the Carmichael family is, a circus?" Weston''s voice was cold, and he didn''t even bother to look at them properly.

    Raymond frowned. "Dad, can you not be so harsh in front of everyone?"

    He could take his father''s insults toward himself, but he wouldn''t let anyone talk that way to Citrine.

    Right there, in front of the assembled crowd, Raymond spoke up: "Citrine is my daughter. She''s your granddaughter."

 Chapter 47

    Not only Weston, but everyone of status in the room turned to Citrine in shock.

    Without a word, Raymond stepped forward, cing himself protectively between Citrine and the others.

    That small gesture alone made it clear just how much he valued his daughter.

    A sh of anger flickered in Weston''s eyes.

    He snapped coldly, "Enough of this nonsense."

    "How can you have a daughter when you''ve never even been married?"

    Raymond narrowed his eyes. He understood perfectly well that what angered Weston wasn''t the existence of a daughter, but the fact that he''d brought her here, openly acknowledging her as family.

    Weston''s sharp gaze locked onto Raymond. "Raymond, show this youngdy the door."

    The old man clearly wanted to pretend none of this had happened.

    Of course Raymond saw right through him. Weston simply refused to ept this granddaughter.

    "Raymond, don''t disappoint me," the old man barked, his voice ringing with warning when Raymond didn''t move.

    Raymond nced back at Citrine. Her face was calm, betraying not a hint of emotion.

    She seemed not to care about any of this.

    But Raymond knew better; it wasn''t that she didn''t care-it was that she''d long stopped hoping for anything from anyone.

    Suddenly, Raymond straightened, meeting Weston''s gaze head-on. "We''ve already had a DNA test. She is, without a doubt, my daughter."

    "Raymond!" Weston''s voice shot up, hisposure slipping as anger overtook him.

    Just as he was about to explode, Weston caught sight of the ne around Citrine''s neck. He shot up from his seat, pointing an usatory finger at her, his face contorted with rage.

    "You-you gave her ''Eternal Devotion''?"

    Eternal Devotion? Citrine nced down at her ne, a suspicion forming in her mind.

    Raymond''s voice was steady and unwavering. "She''s my daughter. Who else would I give it to?"

    Of course his daughter deserved the very best.

    "Does she deserve it?" Weston''s re swept over Citrine, his fury barely contained. "You think she''s worthy? You''d rather give it to her than to those women you keep hidden away?" Raymond''s eyes turned cold as ice.

    "Watch your mouth," Weston spat, humiliated in front of everyone.

    Father and son stood off, neither willing to give an inch.

    Finally, after a long silence, Weston spoke.

    "That belonged to your mother," he said tly. And ''Eternal Devotion'' alone is worth millions.

    In the past, this son of his refused to speak of his mother, forbade anyone from mentioning her, let alone touching her belongings. And now he''d handed ''Eternal Devotion''-her most precious heirloom-to someone else.

    Citrine was taken aback.

    She''d known the ne was valuable, but hadn''t realized it was an inheritance from Raymond''s mother.

    Before she could process it, she heard Raymond say firmly, "If it was my mother''s, then I have every right to decide what happens to it."

    "Raymond, are you defying me now?"

    Weston, still imposing even in old age, spoke with such weight that it felt suffocating.

    The younger guests shrank back, too intimidated to utter a word.

    Raymond met his father''s gaze without the slightest hint of weakness. "Dad, I''m not asking for your permission." His tone brooked no argument.

    Weston''s expression darkened, but atst he relented with a snort. "Fine. She''s just a girl-she won''t make any trouble. If you want to keep her around, go ahead."

    Keep her around? Like she was some kind of ything?

    What kind of nonsense was this old man spouting?

 Chapter 48

    Citrine nced at Weston coolly, her thoughts drifting unexpectedly to her own father.

    She mused to herself, *My old man''s still the best-at least he''s actually likable.*

    Weston, sensing a pair of eyes on him from across the room, turned and met Citrine''s gaze head-on. Her eyes were steady, showing not even a hint of fear.

    Most of the younger Carmichaels treated Weston like mice confronted by a cat; even Raymond, back when he was a teenager, had always been more than a little intimidated by his father.

    But here was a girl, bold as brass, standing her ground without so much as flinching. Weston felt a rare flicker of interest.

    "What''s your name?" he asked.

    "Citrine Carmichael." Citrine looked him straight in the eye, her tone poised and unppable, every word and gesture perfectlyposed-leaving no room for criticism.

    "You''re young, but your nerve is impressive," Weston remarked, his voice unreadable¡ªsomewhere between apliment and a put-down.

    Citrine gave a small, easy smile and replied without missing a beat, "You tter me. I suppose I do all right."

    Weston''s eyes narrowed.

    This girl clearly knew he didn''t mean it as praise-she was being deliberately obtuse.

    Anyone with half a brain could tell Weston''sment was more reproach than admiration. Yet Citrine acted as if she hadn''t noticed at all, turning his words back on him and leaving him momentarily speechless.

    "What school are you attending now?" Weston pressed, frowning.

    "Havencrest Preparatory Academy."

    "And your grades?"

    Weston''s career-mindedness was legendary; his standards for his children were impossibly high, and precious few ever measured up. Now, as he scrutinized the young woman before him, his tone was the same one he used when grilling subordinates.

    "Dad, Citrine''s not your employee," Raymond interjected, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. He''d grown up being treated like Weston''s assistant, and it rubbed him the wrong way to hear his father interrogate Citrine like that.

    He was about to say more, but Citrine spoke up first, her voice clear and just a touch proud.

    "I manage-first in my year, actually." She lifted her chin, a little like a smug kitten, radiating unspoken defiance.

    Weston found himself, for once, at a loss for words.

    With a wave of his hand, he nced at Raymond, his tone tinged with sarcasm. "Your daughter''s quite something, isn''t she?"

    Raymond bit back augh-he was tempted, but with so many eyes on them, he managed to keep a straight face.

    After bidding Weston goodbye, Raymond led Citrine over to the refreshments table.

    *Which one should I try?* Citrine wondered, her gaze drifting over the assorted cakes and pastries, a faint frown creasing her brow. She''d always had a sweet tooth.

    "Take whatever you like," Raymond said, reading her expression. He handed her arge te with a grin.

    Citrine didn''t hesitate-she loaded her te with every dessert that caught her fancy.

    Raymond grabbed another te for himself, piling it with a colorful selection of snacks.

    They found a quiet corner and sat down together.

    "You really surprised me back there," Raymond said, a smile tugging at his lips as he remembered how his father had been left speechless. "Didn''t see thating."

    Citrine took a bite of ice cream and looked at him. "He doesn''t like me. I don''t like him either."

    She had no intention of forcing a smile for someone who clearly disliked her. She''d lived through too much to ever put herself through that kind of difort again.

    If Weston tried to make things difficult, she''d give as good as she got. Raymond hadn''t expected her candor; he opened his mouth, searching for a response, but found nothing to say--because she was simply telling the truth.

    After that little confrontation, everyone present now knew Raymond had a daughter, and that she''d been acknowledged by the Carmichael family.

    Among the city''s elite, this was guaranteed to be the juiciest piece of gossip of the day.

 Chapter 49

    After the party began, Weston called Raymond away, leaving Citrine alone in the

    corner.

    No sooner had she found herself standing solo than a man approached, eager for an opening.

    "Miss, may I have the honor of buying you a drink?" The man wore a tailored ck suit and exuded meticulous polish from head to toe. He''d been watching Citrine for quite some time, unable to hide the excitement in his eyes as he finally made his move-he''d never seen anyone quite like her before.

    Citrine nced over her shoulder at him, the hunger in his gaze making her stomach turn.

    "No, thank you," she replied coolly, withdrawing her gaze with barely concealed disinterest.

    She''d met his type more times than she cared to remember in her previous life, and she''d never had any patience for men like him.

    The man hesitated, clearly not expecting to be rebuffed so bluntly. His expression soured, but remembering that Citrine was Raymond''s daughter, he swallowed his irritation and slunk away without protest.

    He was hardly the only one. Over the next few minutes, several more men sidled up to her, each one harboring his own agenda-some drawn by her beauty, others hoping to curry favor with Raymond through her. Citrine turned every one of them down.

    High society gatherings like this were always built on self-interest, and Citrine found herself increasingly disenchanted. Rather than force herself to socialize and trade empty pleasantries for the sake of minor advantages, she decided she''d rather step outside for some fresh air.

    The Carmichael family was the crown jewel of Havencrest''s elite, and the hotel they''d chosen for the soir¨¦e was as luxurious as it got even the gardens were breathtaking.

    As Citrine wandered through the manicured paths, she was suddenly startled by the unmistakable sound of bones snapping, followed by a man''s muffled groan.

    She took a few steps forward and stumbled upon a disturbing scene: a group of young men were viciously beating someone dressed in a waiter''s uniform, fists and boots flying.

    Nearby, another man lounged in a rocking chair, legs crossed, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He watched the violence unfolding before him with a detached amusement, as if he were merely observing the world for his own entertainment. He radiated a kind of untouchable, aristocratic arrogance.

    Stray locks of dark hair fell across his forehead, and the shifting glow from the garden lights yed over his features, highlighting and obscuring them by turns.

    As Citrine''s gaze lingered on him, the man seemed to sense her attention. He looked up and met her eyes directly.

    For a moment, Citrine was struck by his face-handsome, with sharp, almost forbidding features and a wild, unyielding spirit in his eyes, like a stallion no one could ever hope to tame.

    She remembered him instantly. In her previous life, she''d spent her entire youth trying-and failing to rein in this wild horse.

    Back then, she hadn''t met Theo Glenwood until she was eighteen. Now, fate had brought them together much sooner.

    For a fleeting second, Theo seemed caught off guard by the sight of her. There was something strangely familiar about this girl, though he was certain he''d never seen her before.

    He couldn''t help but ask, "Have we met before?"

    "Never," Citrine replied, her voice calm. In herst life, she''d wished she could

    tear him apart, but now, seeing him again, she felt only a cold rity.

    She looked away from Theo and focused on the crowd in front of him.

    The ones delivering the beating were a gang of spoiled rich boys who followed Theo''s lead in everything. They yed rough, and tonight was no exception- their blows were merciless, as though they truly meant to beat the man on the ground to death.

    Remarkably, their victim didn''t make a sound. He endured the onught in silence.

    Citrine''s eyes lingered on him. He was strikingly handsome, but in a way altogether different from Theo. Where Theo was rugged and severe, this man was almost unnaturally beautiful, his features so finely carved they seemed unreal. There was a soft, seductive quality to his upturned eyes, a look that promised passion but offered no warmth.

    Yet it was his gaze that unsettled her most-those bottomless ck eyes, cold and unreadable, revealing nothing and hinting at everything.

    The moment their eyes met, a chill swept through Citrine, seeping deep into her bones.

 Chapter 50

    It felt like being watched by a venomous snake utterly chilling.

    Yet, there was something oddly familiar about that face. Citrine racked her brain, trying to recall where she might have seen him before, and before she realized it, she''d drifted off in thought.

    Theo caught her staring and narrowed his eyes, a faint crease appearing between his brows.

    "Are you here to stand up for him?" For some reason, seeing her attention fixed on another man made Theo distinctly ufortable.

    Citrine turned away, her gaze cool as she met Theo''s eyes. "I don''t even know him."

    "Sorry to interrupt. I''ll let you get back to it."

    With that, Citrine quietly turned and walked away.

    Theo suppressed his strange irritation, forcing himself to look elsewhere.

    Barely five minutes after Citrine left, the police arrived.

    Their entrance was anything but subtle; suddenly, everyone at the party was looking at Theo.

    After all, who wouldn''t want to witness a scandal involving the city''s most notorious golden boy?

    But what really shocked the room was the fact that someone at Havencrest actually dared provoke this powerful heir-clearly, someone had a death wish.

    "Enough! All of you,e with us to the station." The lead officer''s voice was cold as he broke up the group, stopping the one-sided beating happening on the floor.

    Theo''s expression was thunderous as he faced the police.

    He and the other well-bred troublemakers were escorted straight out of the party. "Bro, it had to be that girl who called the cops," one of the guys grumbled angrily.

    Theo''s eyes darkened. He looked up and, sure enough, spotted a slender figure on the second-floor balcony.

    Their eyes met across the room, and in Citrine''s gaze, Theo caught a glimmer of mischief.

    Interesting. Someone actually had the nerve to cross him.

    "Let me go," Theo snapped, shaking off the officer''s hand.

    He stood tall and pointed straight at the girl upstairs.

    "It was you, wasn''t it?" Though it sounded like a question, there was no doubt in his voice.

    Citrine wiped the smile from her face, her expression returning to its usual innocence. She met Theo''s gaze without a hint of fear. "I''m sorry, what are you talking about? I have no idea."

    Theo stared at her for a long moment before finally looking away.

    This incident wouldn''t cause him any real trouble, but still-he''d been humiliated in public, his pride wounded.

    Theo had always been the one to make others look foolish, never the other way around. This was the first time anyone dared turn the tables on him.

    The silent standoff between Theo and Citrine hadn''t gone unnoticed. While most people failed to catch the subtle exchange, every member of the Carmichael family certainly did.

    Weston shot Raymond a sharp look. "Well, you''ve certainly raised a bold

    daughter. Even Theo isn''t off-limits to her." With that, he stalked off.

    Raymond, meanwhile, had eyes only for Citrine, ignoring Weston''s words entirely.

    After the old man left, Raymond went straight to Citrine.

    He looked her over from head to toe, only rxing when he saw she was unharmed.

    "Was it you who called the police just now?" he asked.

    This time, Citrine didn''t bother lying. "Yeah. When something reeks of organized crime, it belongs in a police station." She was unapologetic, even a little proud.

    Raymond stared at his daughter, momentarily at a loss for words.

    "Do you even know who he is?" he finally asked.

    Citrine nodded, perfectly at ease. "Of course. He''s the city''s crown prince, isn''t he?"

    "You really are fearless, kid."

    Thinking of the Glenwood family, a shadow passed over Raymond''s eyes.

    Clearly, he''d have to work even harder if he wanted to keep this girl safe.

 Chapter 51

    Backstage at the banquet.

    The hotel manager red furiously at Sebastian Vesper. "You''ve really got some nerve, you know that? You''d even dare cross the prince of the city''s elite?"

    "Do you have any idea how much trouble you''ve caused me?"

    Sebastian kept his head low, blood trickling steadily from his wounds, but he acted as if he didn''t feel a thing. Bent at the waist, he apologized over and over. "I''m sorry, sir. I really am."

    "I didn''t mean for any of this to happen. I promise it won''t happen again."

    He hadn''t made a sound when he was nearly beaten to death, but right now, he stood there-head bowed, swallowing his pride.

    "Again? You think there''ll be a next time?" The manager let out a coldugh.

    "Take your pay and get out." He transferred today''s wages with a flick of his phone.

    Knowing there was no point in pleading, Sebastian said nothing more.

    He changed out of his uniform, limped out the hotel''s back door, and disappeared into the night.

    By then, darkness had swallowed thest traces of moonlight. Sebastian didn''t bother going to the hospital. He took his battered body straight to his cramped apartment.

    It was only after copsing onto his narrow bed that he remembered the girl from tonight.

    Her face was breathtaking-so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. Even Sebastian, who prided himself on keeping his cool, had nearly lost hisposure the moment he saw her.

    Yearster, he would still remember that night.

    She stood above him, regal as a princess, looking down at him with an air of untouchable grace. In that moment, his own sense of inferiority felt painfully exposed.

    Sebastian knew it was her who called the police.

    She was the one who saved him.

    If it hadn''t been for her, he wouldn''t have walked out of that hotel on his own two feet. They''d have carried him out on a stretcher.

    Even after the Carmichael family''s banquet had ended, Citrine still hadn''t seen her uncle or cousin.

    Raymond, upon hearing the two hadn''t shown up, felt a wave of relief.

    Manley and Travis had gotten stranger and more unpredictable over the years; their absence was honestly a blessing. If they''de, tonight''s banquet would have turned into utter chaos.

    A few days after returning home, Citrine started keeping an eye on the news online.

    Raymond had promised her that the trending topics wouldst a few more days, and he''d delivered the story stayed at the top for an entire week.

    Citrine watched as thements section filled with more and more people hurling insults at her, and she couldn''t help but smirk.

    Go ahead, she thought. The harsher the words now, the harder it''ll sting when the truthes out.

    That night, Citrine scheduled a post she''d carefully prepared.

    It was simple: just two photos and a video. The first image showed a detailed record of every transaction between Citrine and the Iverson family since she was a child¡ªincluding every allowance, every bank transfer from Aline, and receipts from meals she''d paid for out of her own pocket.

    Each line was clear as day, nothing left out.

    People were stunned. Fourteen years of financial records, and the total amount Aline had sent her didn''t even reach five thousand dors. In other words, over fourteen years, the Iverson family had spent less than five grand supporting their adopted daughter.

    But the real shocker was in the breakdown of her living expenses. Citrine''s records detailed every time she''d bought groceries or meals for herself, and the total added up to over eight thousand dors.

    Most telling of all, the records made it clear that for more than two hundred days a year, Citrine had to fend for herself when it came to food.

    So after more than a decade, she''d received less than five thousand from the Iversons, but had personally spent over eight thousand just to get by. In reality, she''d hardly cost the family anything at all.

    For a wealthy family to spend so little on their adopted daughter over fourteen years-it was unthinkable.

    No one could''ve imagined that a family this rich could be so stingy.

    The second post was a video, apanied by an unedited, timestamped screenshot as proof.

    It was the same clip that had once circted online Citrine pushing Jete.

    But this time, the video wasplete, uncut, showing the whole story from start to finish, in a way the version on the school forum never had.

 Chapter 52

    Here''s a culturally localized, novel-style adaptation for Western readers:

    At the top of the staircase, Citrine and Jete faced off, tension crackling in the air between them.

    "Citrine, you''d better mind your own business," Jete said, arms crossed and voice sharp. Gone was the fragile, demure persona she''d worn at school-in its ce stood a woman radiating raw hostility.

    Citrine, by contrast, remained remarkably calm. Her only response was a slight furrow of her brow. "You shouldn''t be pushing Dad to invest in Dick Glenwood''s venture," she said quietly.

    Jete grew more agitated at Citrine''sposure. She raised her voice, practically shouting, "Citrine, I''m the real Iverson heiress. Who do you think you are, acting like you have any say in this?"

    Her face twisted with rage, taking on an almost grotesque, frightening cast.

    Citrine''s eyes turned cold. "Whatever you do is your business, but you have no right to drag Dad into it. He''s exhausted as it is. Do you even know how many people have lost everything because of Dick''s schemes? Some families have been ruined. I won''t stand by and watch you ruin Dad too."

    Jete arched an eyebrow, a sneer curling her lips. "He''s my father, Citrine. Who do you think he''ll listen to me, or you?"

    In that moment, she looked like something out of a nightmare.

    Without thinking, Citrine''s hand flew up, delivering a sharp p across Jete''s face. "Jete, try acting like a human being for once. If you dare use Dad for your own ends again, I won''t let it slide."

    No sooner had the words left Citrine''s mouth than Jete grabbed Citrine''s wrist, pressed it to her own chest, and with a sudden, violent motion, hurled herself down the stairs.

    Citrine stood frozen in disbelief, barely processing what had happened when a cold, furious voice cut through the shock from the entryway. "What the hell are you doing?" It was Sawyer.

    The video ended there.

    As soon as the clip was posted online, it exploded with attention.

    Thements section quickly turned into a battleground, opinions shifting in real time.

    "God, Jete is such a drama queen-how fake can you get?"

    "I thought this was going to be a ''fake heiress takes over the real daughter''s life'' story, but turns out it''s the opposite. The real daughter''s the viin!"

    "Jete is just vilepletely unreasonable and willing to stoop to anything." "Even their adopted daughter cares more about her dad than Jete does."

    "And the worst part is, at the end of the video, her own father calls Citrine a monster. That pissed me off."

    "Sawyer didn''t even bother to find out the truth before ming Citrine. That''s just cruel; she must be heartbroken."

    "Forget Jete for a second-doesn''t anyone else find the Iverson family disgusting? They barely gave Citrine fifty grand in all these years, didn''t even pay for her meals-what kind of people do that?"

    "These are the kind of rich folks who drop six figures on a single dress, yet they''re stingy with Citrine? Unreal."

    "Citrine made it this far on her own. She''s survived despite them."

    "I remember seeing posts on the forums iming Citrine''s sess was all thanks

    to the Iversons'' ''nurturing.'' Who''sughing now?"

    "It''s obvious Citrine''s just that talented. Honestly, I admire her."

    "Not only did she never spend the Iversons'' money, but when she cut ties, she actually gave them five million as a parting gift. That''s real ss."

    "I can''t even imagine being that capable at seventeen-she made five million on her own! Meanwhile, I''m a college grad scraping by on minimum wage and still relying on my parents. Can''tpete."

    "And the Iversons actually epted her five million? Where''s their shame? I''m furious."

    Nearly everyment was condemning the Iverson family. But then, one reply stood out from the rest.

    "Sure, maybe they didn''t give her much pocket money, but didn''t they pay for her to study abroad for five years? Shouldn''t she be grateful for that?"

 Chapter 53

    Study abroad?

    Citriney sprawled on her bed, grinning at the ringment on her screen.

    Without hesitation, she logged into her own Twitter ount and tagged The Iverson Group''s official handle right under thatment.

    @The Iverson Group: There''s a world of difference between being sent away and studying abroad.

    Within seconds, the reply went viral, shooting straight to the top of the thread.

    The Iverson Group''s social media team broke out in a cold sweat when they saw it. Not one of them dared to issue a reply.

    After some frantic discussion, they agreed this was above their pay grade¡ªit''d have to be the CEO''s call.

    At that moment, Sawyer was at the Iverson family estate.

    The moment he saw the news online, he rushed home.

    All these years, he''d believed he''d done right by Citrine, yet those few photos on Twitter hit him like a p in the face.

    Iverson family living room.

    Sawyer sat on the sofa, his entire face carved from ice.

    No one else on the couch dared utter a word.

    Jete finally forced herself to stand, wringing her hands and casting Sawyer a pleading look. Her voice trembled. "Dad, those videos online are all edited. They''re not real. You can''t believe them."

    Sawyer stared at his own daughter, unable to shake the memory of that video- her conversation with Citrine. Anyone with half a brain could see who truly cared about him as a father.

    Citrine was just his adopted daughter, yet she''d always shielded him, fiercely loyal behind the scenes. Warmth crept into Sawyer''s heart as he thought back to the year he first took her in.

    Once, Sawyer and his own father had gotten into a huge argument. The old man had lost his temper and nearly hurled a chair at him. Young Citrine, barely more than a scrap of a girl, had charged in like a firecracker, nting herself right in front of Sawyer.

    She''d pointed at old Mr. Holbrook and shouted, "Don''t you dare hurt my dad!" She was so small and fragile, but she stood her ground, trembling with fear but refusing to budge.

    Remembering all this, Sawyer''s eyes grew cold as he looked at Jete. "You think I''m blind? You don''t think I can tell when a video''s been doctored?"

    "Or do you take me for a fool?"

    He''d always spoiled this daughter, rarely raising his voice. This was the first time he''d ever spoken to her so harshly.

    Even though she was his own flesh and blood, disappointment flickered in his eyes.

    "Dad, don''t be so harsh, you''re scaring her," Clifford interjected, frowning. He''d always been close to Jete, unwilling to see her upset.

    "Enough." Sawyer''s voice cracked like a whip.

    Clifford''s words died on his lips.

    Sawyer nced at Jete. "If you won''t tell the truth, then as far as I''m

    concerned, I don''t have a daughter anymore."

    Sawyer''s icy tone made Jete shrink back.

    She''d always been afraid of her father.

    He simply watched her cry, saying nothing. Jete''s heart sank.

    She wiped her tears, eyes red as she apologized, "Dad, I was wrong. I shouldn''t have tried to frame Citrine."

    "I just¡ªI wasn''t thinking straight. I don''t like sharing you with her."

    Tears streamed down Jete''s face, but her resentment toward Citrine only deepened.

    She''d destroyed the original video-how had that little witch managed to get her hands on it?

    "Since you know you were wrong, you''ll apologize to your sister in person," Sawyer said, the frost in his expression finally melting a little.

    "I will, I promise," Jete swore, hand raised.

    Sawyer gave her a final look, then said nothing more.

    Girls could be petty;pses in judgment were bound to happen.

    All Sawyer could do now was hope Citrine would find it in her heart to forgive her.

    With Jete''s mess settled, Sawyer turned to Aline.

    He fixed her with a cold look and demanded, "Aline, in all these years, have you ever given Citrine any pocket money?"

    It was the first time Sawyer had ever lost his temper with his wife. For years, she''d managed the household with impable order, earning his trust¡ªand full control over the family''s finances.

    The kids'' allowances had alwayse from her; Sawyer had never bothered to get involved.

 Chapter 54

    But it had genuinely never urred to him that Aline would stoop so low as to withhold Citrine''s allowance.

    "Ash, I swear, I didn''t do it. You have to believe me someone''s framing me," Aline pleaded, her face drained of color. She rushed forward to grab Sawyer''s hand, and in an instant, tears were streaming down her cheeks.

    "You''re saying Citrine set you up?" Sawyer shot her a cold look, unmoved by her disy.

    He yanked his hand free. "Aline, do you really think I woulde here without checking those bank statements first? You expect me to believe they''re fake?"

    His gaze was sharp enough to cut through steel.

    Before Aline could respond, he pressed on, "Then tell me why has Citrine had to fend for herself for meals all these years?"

    Aline''s heart sank.

    She never imagined that brat would dare air their dirtyundry online. Back then, the girl always swallowed her grievances and neverined. Why bring it up now, in front of everyone?

    Inwardly, Aline cursed her a thousand times over.

    "Speak," Sawyer demanded, his tone even colder as Aline hesitated in silence.

    "Because... because..."

    But no matter how she tried, not a single word woulde out.

    Sawyer turned to face Norton and the other two. "What about you three? Did you know about this?"

    He was rarely home, but Norton, Clifford, and Jete were there almost every day. There was no way they could be oblivious.

    As the eldest, Norton stepped forward.

    "Dad, whenever you weren''t around, Citrine would always pick on Jete. At first, Aline just scolded her and sent her outside for a while without dinner. But Citrine''s got a temper-after that, unless you were home, she refused to eat with the family."

    "It''s just that Citrine is too stubborn. You can''t me Aline for that." Even though they''d misunderstood Citrine about Jete, Norton still felt the dinner situation was a separate issue.

    Sawyer''s heart grew heavy at his son''s words.

    He asked coldly, "And when she acted out, none of you thought to stop her?"

    Norton stiffened at that.

    He really hadn''t done anything-just stood by with a stern face, scolding Citrine as usual.

    An oppressive silence fell over the house.

    Just then, Gerda, the usually quiet housekeeper, finally stepped forward.

    She''d been with the Iverson family for more than twenty years, almost part of the furniture.

    "Sir, I can''t stay silent any longer," she said, her brow deeply furrowed, determination in her voice.

    "Everyone in this family has always favored Jete. Of course their stories will take her side."

    "Let this old woman have her say."

    "I''ve worked here for over two decades. When you first adopted Miss Citrine, I was the one who looked after her. She was always gentle with us staff, always thoughtful¡ªlike a little angel. Then you adopted the two young masters, and they adored her too. The three of them were inseparable. Back then, apart from you, those boys were her whole world-she''d wait by the door all day just to see theme home from school. She truly cherished this family. For someone so kindhearted, it''s heartbreaking how things turned out for her." Gerda''s voice was gentle but full of regret.

    She went on, "After you brought Mrs. Iverson and Miss Jete into the family, your attention shifted entirely to Jete. Little by little, the boys drifted closer to her as well, until Citrine was left all alone. I''d often see her ying by herself, and the smile on her face grew fainter with each passing day. Still, no matter how lonely she was, she always treated everyone with kindness-she never hurt a soul."

    "Sir, that''s all I wanted to say. I may not know every detail of what goes on in this house, but I''ve watched Miss Citrine grow up. I know better than anyone how sweet and good-natured she is. What Norton said about Citrine bullying Jete or having a nasty temper¡ªthat''s just not true. Not for a second."

 Chapter 55

    After Gerda finished speaking, she bent down and gave Sawyer a respectful bow.

    "Thank you, sir, for looking after me all these years," she said, her voice steady but tinged with age. "I''m getting old, and it''s time for this old woman to retire and spend her days in peace at home."

    Once Gerda had left, Sawyer couldn''t get her words out of his mind. The conversation seemed to linger in the room long after she was gone.

    Norton and Clifford, usually quick to fill any silence, were uncharacteristically quiet as well. Gerda''s words had clearly stirred up childhood memories for them, leaving each lost in thought.

    Sawyer didn''t question Aline any further. He knew there was little point-he wasn''t going to get an answer.

    Instead, he gave her onest look. "Let me ask you one final time. In all the years Citrine was abroad, did you ever send her a single cent?"

    Aline nodded, the gesture stiff and almost painful.

    Even if she hadn''t confessed, Sawyer could have found out on his own. Admitting it now was easier.

    "Ash," Aline said softly, "I just wanted to think about our own daughter a little more. After all, Citrine is adopted."

    "Enough. That''s enough," Sawyer said with a deep sigh, cutting her off. He turned away, unwilling to continue the conversation.

    Meanwhile, the inte was aze with thetest scandal. Sawyer had barely stepped into the office before the head of operations intercepted him.

    "Mr. Iverson, how should we respond to this?" the department head asked carefully, holding out a phone.

    Sawyer took the phone and his eyes caught on the word "exile." His heart sank.

    He''d never once called Citrine in those five years. Sending her overseas and then ignoring her was exile by another name. Citrine was right-he had no defense.

    Without another word, Sawyer quickly typed out a reply.

    @CICI: You never studied abroad. I''m sorry. It was the Iverson family that failed you.

    The official Iverson Group ount posted a public admission: the family had wronged Citrine.

    The inte exploded.

    "Unbelievable. The Iversons have no shame at all."

    "Poor Citrine. If this is what they call adoption, she''d have been better off never being taken in at all. Who knows how much better her life could''ve been."

    The dissatisfaction with the Iversons only grew, and thements turned even nastier.

    The post suggesting Citrine should be grateful was bombarded until the ount owner deleted it entirely.

    Meanwhile, for two days straight, the Carmichael Group''s employees were forced to work overtime, frantically scrubbing the inte of any positive photos of Citrine.

    Raymond sat at his desk, reying the video of Citrine arguing with Jete over and over.

    That girl was as fierce as a mother wolf defending her cubs-protecting Sawyer, the bastard who had never deserved it.

    Raymond couldn''t help recalling the first time he''d met Citrine. His eyes grew cold at the memory.

    The ungrateful little brat had threatened him the moment they met, despite him being her biological father.

    Yet, Sawyer-the man who had caused Citrine so much pain-was still the one she stubbornly defended.

    What a thankless kid.

    Sawyer had treated her so cruelly.

    Raymond''s expression darkened even more as he remembered those bank statements.

    The Iversons really were despicable.

    The next day, Citrine''s bank ount received a transfer-five million dors.

    She nced at the notification and knew instantly it was from Sawyer.

    Citrine had no intention of returning the money. If Sawyer wanted to transfer it back, she wasn''t about to refuse.

    After all, it was money she''d worked hard to earn in the first ce.

    Suddenly, a message popped up on her phone.

    Dad: Citrine, can we meet?

    Citrine nced at the message, deleted it from the chat, and then deleted his contact altogether.

    After that, she felt oddly relieved.

    Whatever bond they''d shared as father and daughter had already been exhausted

    in another lifetime.

    In this one, she wanted nothing more to do with him.

    That evening, Raymond took Citrine to the Carmichael family estate for a family dinner.

    When she saw Weston, Citrine managed a polite, faint smile.

    Weston just snorted and ignored her, turning to Raymond instead. "Why''d you bring her here?" The old man was still sore from thest time this girl had embarrassed him.

 Chapter 56

    Raymond''s brow furrowed, clearly displeased. "Citrine is my daughter-of course she belongs here. If you don''t want her around, I''ll take her home myself."

    Weston was left speechless by his son''s retort. He simply snorted, then said nothing more.

    Raymond turned to his daughter, his expression softening with concern. "Don''t pay any attention to your grandfather, Citrine. He''s old-his words aren''t always the kindest."

    "I know. I''m not bothered by him," Citrine replied with a faint smile.

    Truth be told, Citrine didn''t care about Weston''s attitude. She hadn''te here to win his approval, and whether he liked her or not was none of her concern.

    Weston: ...He was still right here, wasn''t he? Did this father and daughter think he was invisible?

    There was still some time before the family dinner, but nearly everyone had already arrived.

    Weston gathered the family together and began by introducing Citrine.

    No matter how much he disapproved, Citrine was still part of the Carmichael bloodline, and since Raymond insisted on bringing her back into the fold, Weston would give her the respect she was due.

    When he finished speaking, the rest of the family, seated on the sofas, turned their eyes to Citrine in unison.

    Weston began the introductions in order. "This is your aunt, and beside her is your uncle."

    Citrine nced at the gentle-looking woman on the sofa and the broad- shouldered man next to her, nodding politely in greeting.

    After introducing them, the old man turned his gaze to his second son.

    "And this is your uncle."

    Citrine looked at the handsome man, momentarily taken aback.

    He was sitting in a wheelchair, his face pale as parchment, as if he hadn''t seen the sun in ages.

    She remembered him from her previous life-he''d been in a wheelchair then, too. "Uncle," Citrine said, offering him a warm smile.

    "Hello," he replied, returning her smile. For a fleeting moment, a flicker of emotion crossed his dark eyes, but it quickly disappeared.

    Manley shot Raymond a sly, amused look. "Didn''t expect someone like you to have such a charming daughter."

    Raymond didn''t know what Manley was up to, but he was well aware of his brother''s mischievous streak.

    He fixed Manley with a warning stare. "Don''t get any ideas about my daughter. Or you''ll answer to me."

    "Enough. Is this how family should behave?" Weston barked, cutting off their bickering.

    When it came time to introduce Travis, Weston deliberately skipped over him and instead turned his attention to the boy and girl sitting nearby.

    "These two are both children we adopted into the Carmichael family. To the outside world, they''re known as our grandchildren. They''re both outstanding. Citrine, you should try to learn from them," Weston dered, his voice booming with pride.

    It was obvious how much he favored the pair.

    The boy and girl were both strikingly attractive, but for reasons she couldn''t exin, Citrine felt an inexplicable dislike for them. She gave a brief nod.

    Finally, Weston introduced Travis.

    The contempt in his eyes was unmistakable, and his tone turned noticeably cold. "This is your uncle''s son-eighteen years old, a junior at Havencrest Technical College."

    The boy had dyed blond hair and a ck diamond stud in his left ear. His sharp features and careless air gave him an effortlessly rebellious charm as he lounged on the sofa.

    Citrine looked at him and greeted him earnestly. "Hi, brother."

 Chapter 57

    Travis was infamous among the city''s elite-a notorious troublemaker and the ck sheep of his family.

    Weston Carmichael had always held his own to the highest standards. Under his iron-fisted upbringing, his two sons flourished, both bing exemry heirs to the Carmichael legacy.

    Travis, on the other hand, was the son of Manley Carmichael''s mistress. Manley had initially refused to acknowledge him, but the woman had gone straight to the Carmichael estate, demanding recognition. When Weston saw that the child was a boy, he paid the woman off and took Travis in.

    After all, Travis was his only biological grandson. Weston had intended to raise him into a worthy sessor, but the boy proved utterly hopeless with his studies and had zero business acumen. Over time, Weston''s disappointment soured into outright disdain.

    Travis had long since grown used to being looked down upon in the Carmichael household. So when the girl in front of him called him "brother" in a soft, sweet voice, he was momentarily stunned.

    "Uh, yeah." Travis answered awkwardly, ncing at her pretty face.

    The Carmichael family was small, so the family dinner started quickly.

    Weston''s adopted twins, Vicente and Regina Carmichael, sat at the table, volleying jokes and witty remarks that had the old man beaming withughter.

    No one else at the table seemed surprised by the scene. Unless Weston singled someone out, the rest of the family rarely spoke up during meals.

    Aside from the twins'' banter and Weston''s genuineughter, the dining room was quiet.

    Citrine kept her head down, quietly eating and doing her best to make herself invisible.

    But suddenly, Regina shifted the conversation and turned her attention to Citrine.

    "Citrine, where do you go to school?" Regina smiled warmly, her eyes fixed on the girl.

    Thest time they''d seen each other was at Weston''s birthday party, and even from across the room, Regina had found Citrine''s beauty striking.

    Now, face to face, she saw just how stunning Citrine truly was. Jealousy twisted in Regina''s chest, but remembering how indifferent Weston was toward Citrine made her feel a little better.

    Citrine met Regina''s question with a calm, faintly amused nce. "Havencrest Preparatory Academy."

    Regina blinked in surprise. In her eyes, Citrine was just a pretty face-she hadn''t expected her to have any real talent. She herself had tried three times to get into Havencrest and failed each time. The realization stung.

    But Regina recovered quickly, managing a brightpliment. "Wow, Citrine, that''s impressive. Havencrest is tough to get into."

    As soon as she spoke, everyone at the table turned to look at her.

    The Carmichaels weren''t fools-every person here could read between the lines. They heard the condescension in Regina''s voice as clear as day.

    Raymond, one of the cousins, frowned in annoyance, about to speak up, but Citrine stopped him with a nce.

    "Yeah, I was surprised myself," Citrine replied coolly. "It was just a casual attempt, really, and I got in."

    Her tone was light, almost dismissive. She didn''t even spare Regina another look, but her words stung with their breezy arrogance.

    Regina was taken aback. She''d always assumed Citrine was a pushover, but apparently she had a spine.

    Regina forced a smile. "You really are something, little sister."

    She paused, then added, "Unlike me¡ªI''m just muddling through at Elegance Peak Academy."

    Citrine had dealt with girls like Regina plenty of times before-after all, the Iverson family, where she''d grown up, had one just like her.

    Citrine arched a brow and smiled. "Well, then, I guess you really are useless."

    At that, the entire table turned to her in stunned silence.

 Chapter 58

    Travis arched a brow, the corners of his mouth twitching with a smirk he couldn''t quite suppress.

    His little sister sure had a sharp tongue-but he had to admit, he liked it.

    Regina''s face shifted through a whole palette of emotions before she finally gave up pretending.

    Her expression turned sullen and she looked intively at Citrine. "Citrine, what did I ever do to you? Why would you say something like that about me?"

    Citrine looked genuinely puzzled, her brow furrowed. "Didn''t you just say you spend your days goofing off at Elegance Peak Academy?"

    Regina was left speechless.

    Unbothered by the attention, Citrine set down her fork and spoke evenly, "The tuition at Elegance Peak Academy runs into tens of thousands a year, and you''re just wasting time there. What would you call that, if not a waste?"

    She paused to consider, then added with utmost seriousness, "Honestly, I think that money would do a lot more good if it was donated to kids who can''t even afford to go to school. At least that would count as charity."

    Looking as if she was simply stating the obvious, Citrine''s words made Regina''sposure finally crack.

    "I am still the top student at Elegance Peak Academy! You''re being really unfair right now."

    Regina clenched her fork so tightly her knuckles turned white, her face flushing with anger and embarrassment.

    Citrine pretended not to notice and pressed on, her words sharp as ever. "Oh, well, you should have just said you''re the top of your ss! Why tell everyone you''re just cking off? That''s pretty misleading, isn''t it?"

    "Alright, alright, it''s my mistake," Citrine replied, her tone deliberately nonchnt.

    Regina was left flustered, at a loss for words.

    Desperate, she turned to the old man at the head of the table.

    He, after all, had always doted on this granddaughter. ncing coldly at Citrine,

    he finally intervened. "Enough. That''s quite enough."

    "Regina is your older sister, and she''s still the top student at Elegance Peak Academy. You could stand to learn a thing or two from her."

    The smile faded from Citrine''s face.

    Next moment, she mmed her fork down onto the table, the sound slicing through the tense air.

    She met the old man''s eyes directly, voice full of scorn. "Older sister? Please. I''m top of my ss at Havencrest Prep, but you never tell her to learn from me."

    "Favoritism is favoritism-no need to act like you''re being fair." Citrine''s words were biting and left no room for doubt.

    Weston, used to being the one calling the shots, had never once been spoken to like this by someone so much younger. His face turned icy in an instant.

    "Raymond, this is the daughter you raised?"

    Citrine rolled her eyes, suddenly bored. "Raymond, I''m leaving." If the Carmichael family was turning into another Iverson family, she saw no reason to stick around.

    Without waiting for a reply, Citrine stood up and strode out.

    She hadn''t asked for permission¡ªshe was simply informing him.

    After Citrine left, thest traces of warmth vanished from Raymond''s face, reced by a cold, simmering anger.

    "Are you satisfied now?" Raymond stared Weston down, his gaze stripped of any familial feeling. In that moment, he looked at his father as if he were a stranger- no, less than that.

    Weston''s eyes darkened, but he said nothing.

    Raymond turned to Regina and Vicente, his voice sharp. "Citrine is my daughter, and the Carmichael family will belong to her one day. I suggest you both keep that in mind. If you try anything, I won''t hesitate to throw you both out."

    With that, Raymond grabbed his car keys and left in pursuit.

    "Do you all really think I''m the one out of line here?" Weston''s face was ashen. For a split second, the way Raymond looked at him was as if he were looking at an enemy.

    Just then, Manley let out a dry, ill-timed chuckle. "Dad, you really are getting senile."

    With that, he and Travis left the house, not bothering to look back.

 Chapter 59

    When Raymond stepped outside, Citrine was already gone.

    He stared at the deserted street corner, and a sudden sharp pain seized his

    chest.

    Gritting his teeth against the difort, Raymond pulled out his phone and dialed Citrine''s number. The phone rang and rang, but no one picked up.

    Anxious now, he called Adler instead; this time, the line connected almost immediately.

    "Find out where Citrine went. She just left my father''s ce," Raymond blurted out before Adler could even greet him.

    "Don''t worry, President Carmichael, I''ll look into it right away," Adler replied, concern evident in his tone.

    Raymond forced himself through the pain and got into his car.

    But the moment he started the engine, the ache in his chest grew sharper, nearly blinding him. His hands faltered on the wheel, and the car veered off course, mming straight into a tree on the curb.

    He managed to hit the brakes in time to avoid a worse crash.

    Just then, Adler called back.

    "She''s alright, sir. She''s at a bakery downtown-I''m sending you the address now."

    Raymond nced at the location Adler sent and finally let himself breathe. The pain in his chest eased, if only a little.

    "Come pick me up at the family house," he instructed curtly.

    Meanwhile, Citrine was sitting alone by the window in a quiet bakery.

    It waste, and the ce was nearly empty-her solitary figure stood out starkly against the empty tables and softmplight.

    At this hour, the staff were preparing to close up. Sebastian, one of the employees, was about to leave when a fellow worker, still in his apron, hurried

    over.

    "Seb, I''ve got another shift tonight. Could you stick around and watch the ce until thatst customer leaves?" the coworker asked, ncing toward Citrine in the corner.

    "Sure," Sebastian nodded, slipping his uniform jacket back on.

    "Thanks, man," the other said, rushing out the door.

    Sebastian strolled to the register, settling in behind the counter.

    Just then, Citrine finished her dessert and made her way up to pay. Sebastian looked up and paused, surprised. He recognized her instantly.

    It was the same girl who had called the police at the g the other night.

    Tonight, she wore a in ck hoodie and gray sweatpants, her chestnut hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, making her pale face seem even more delicate.

    Even dressed so simply, her beauty was impossible to ignore.

    Citrine didn''t notice his gaze; she kept her head down, looking a bit awkward.

    Just as she was about to speak, she nced up and caught sight of his face-her words faltered. Then, she smiled and changed tack. "Quick question do you guys ever let customers run a tab?"

    "You don''t remember me?" Sebastian asked, mildly surprised.

    "Have we met?" Citrine frowned, feigning ignorance.

    After leaving the g, she had remembered him. Sebastian-he''d once been the only man in Crestwood with enough clout to stand up to the Glenwood family.

    But what was someone like him doing working behind a bakery counter now?

    Sebastian just shook his head and let it go. He hadn''t expected her not to recognize him, but he certainly wasn''t about to volunteer that he was the same guy from the g¡ªa night that hadn''t exactly ended in his favor. If he could help it, he''d rather she didn''t find out.

    "Sorry, I went out today and forgot my wallet," Citrine said, her voice small as she looked up at Sebastian, clearly embarrassed. "Would it be alright if I settled my bill next time?"

    She barely reached his shoulder-couldn''t have been more than five foot three, and she looked no older than sixteen.

 Chapter 60

    He looked so thin and frail-who would have guessed he''d have the guts to stand up to Theo?

    Sebastian couldn''t help but let a faint smile tug at his lips, amused by the whole thing.

    He''d never imagined there''de a day when he''d be rescued by a kid.

    To make it onto the guest list for an event of that caliber, this kid was definitely no ordinary child. She had toe from a wealthy, well-connected family.

    In Sebastian''s experience, the sons and daughters of high society were always arrogant and entitled, rarely seeing anyone as their equal.

    But Citrine was different-she was the first youngdy he''d met who was genuinely sweet.

    "Did youe out without any money?" Sebastian asked, his tone rxed and unhurried.

    "Yeah," Citrine replied, her cheeks flushing with worry. She turned her pockets inside out, holding them up as proof. "See? Nothing. I''m telling you the truth, I didn''t bring any money. I swear I''m not lying."

    Citrine promised herself that this was, by far, the most convincing performance she''d ever given-past or present life included.

    Sebastian had to stifle hisughter at her anxious expression.

    He couldn''t help remembering that night at the party-how she''d imed not to know him, then slipped away to call the police.

    His shoulders started shaking with silentughter. "No need for an IOU. This meal''s on me think of it as a treat from your big brother. You can go now."

    Go? No way she hadn''t made the connection she wanted yet.

    Sebastian had a striking face, and when he smiled, there was a warmth about him that made people feel at ease. Citrine found herself drawn to his smile for reasons she couldn''t quite exin.

    Before she realized it, she''d been staring at him for quite a while.

    "You have a really nice smile," she said earnestly.

    Sebastian paused, momentarily caught off guard.

    No one had ever told him that before.

    "Do you have any paper and a pen around here?" Citrine nced around, searching in vain before turning to him.

    Sebastian wasn''t sure what she needed them for, but he immediately reached under the counter and handed her what she wanted.

    Citrine took them and quickly scribbled a string of numbers before passing the paper back.

    "That''s my WhatsApp number. Don''t forget to add meter, so I can pay you back."

    Sebastian epted the note with a helpless smile. "Alright."

    As she left, Citrine reminded him again, "Remember, you have to add me."

    Once the door closed behind her and her figure vanished from sight, Sebastian couldn''t help but let out a quiet chuckle.

    He nced at the note in his hand, then tossed it into the trash.

    Later, after tidying up the shop, Sebastian got ready to leave. But just as he reached the door, he doubled back to the front counter, pulled the note from the trash, and slipped it into his pocket.

    Back at his small apartment, Sebastian showered and was about to turn in for the night when he suddenly remembered the note. Shirtless, he walked out to the living room, fished the scrap of paper from his jacket on the sofa, and stared at it for a moment.

    Maybe it was because the girl had reminded him again before she left, or maybe it was the hopeful way she''d looked at him¡ªbut in the end, Sebastian opened his phone and sent a friend request to Citrine on WhatsApp.

    That evening, Citrine returned home to find that Raymond wasn''t there. She didn''t give it much thought; it wasn''t unusual for him to be outte, probably working overtime at the office.

    She went to bed early that night.

    The next morning, as soon as she woke up, she saw a notification-someone had added her as a contact.

    She epted the request right away.

    The profile picture was a guy in a hoodie, his back to the camera. Citrine recognized him immediately-she was pretty sure it was Sebastian himself.

    Thinking about the events of the night before, she transferred fifty dors to him without hesitation.

    After all, the first step to building a good rtionship was adding each other on WhatsApp.

 Chapter 61

    As theunch day for the intelligent medical robot Kane approached, Citrine had just finished sifting through over a thousand resumes, narrowing the pool down to three promising candidates.

    But with only one position avable, she still had to choose the best fit from the trio.

    To conduct the interviews, Citrine took the afternoon off-missing two sses- and arranged to meet the candidates at a caf¨¦ just outside the school gates. Their appointment was set for two o''clock, and Citrine arrived five minutes early. The candidates were a young man and two women. The man and one of the women were fresh out of college, while the other woman already had a few years of work experience.

    At this point, all three were still on their way.

    Since there was only one road running along the campus, and all three interviewees were dressed in business suits, it didn''t take long for them to spot one another. With a single nce, they realized they were all here for the same

    reason.

    The woman in the lead turned to the others and asked, "You guys here for the interview too?"

    The other two nodded in unison.

    She was outgoing, the kind of person who made friends easily, and soon enough, the three of them were chatting as if they''d known each other for years.

    The young man nced around the street, wrinkled his nose, and muttered, "I have no idea what CICI Group''s HR was thinking, picking a dump like this for an interview. It took me over two hours just to get here. What a hassle."

    Hisint opened the floodgates for the lively woman. "Right? I thought we''d be interviewing at CICI Group''s main office! The trip here was such a pain. Makes you wonder if this HR person even knows what they''re doing."

    The two of them traded gripes, their conversation growing more animated by the second.

    Meanwhile, Carlotta Yarbrough, the woman with work experience, wasn''t one to badmouth people behind their backs. She followed quietly a step behind, choosing not to join in.

    When the three finally stepped into the caf¨¦ and looked around, they didn''t spot anyone who looked like HR.

    The young man''s patience was wearing thin. He grumbled, "Is this person for real? We were supposed to meet at two. Now they''rete? Doesn''t seem very professional."

    The bubbly woman chimed in, giggling, "Seriously, what''s the point of making things harder for each other? We''re all just trying to get by. It''s not like HR is some big shot boss."

    No sooner had she finished her sentence than a clear, youthful voice cut through the air.

    "You''re here for the interview, right?" Citrine had already guessed from their conversation and attire that these were her three candidates.

    All eyes swiveled toward her.

    She wore the uniform of Havencrest Preparatory Academy-petite, looking barely sixteen.

    The lively woman and the tall young man, who''d just been talking behind someone''s back, suddenly felt a twinge of embarrassment. But when they realized the "HR" was just a high school girl, their embarrassment instantly vanished.

    They exchanged a nce but didn''t bother to answer Citrine''s question.

    It was Carlotta who finally looked Citrine up and down with genuine curiosity. "How did you know the three of us were here for the interview?"

    Citrine calmly recited their names. "You''re Carlotta, Luna, and Manuel, right?"

    That caught everyone off guard-even Luna and Manuel, who''d just ignored her, stared in surprise.

    "I''m here to interview you," Citrine said, pulling their resumes from her backpack and cing them on the table.

    "You''re the one interviewing us?" Luna sounded skeptical.

    After all, the girl in front of them was still wearing a school uniform, and her age was impossible to ignore.

    "That''s right. Is there a problem?" Citrine nced up with a bright, disarming smile.

    "But aren''t you a student at Havencrest Prep?" Luna simply couldn''t connect the dots between CICI Group and the teenager standing before her.

    "Does that matter?" Citrine replied.

    At that moment, the tall young man finally lost his patience, his voice tinged with anger. "Listen, kid, I didn''t travel halfway across the city to y games. Are you messing with us?"

 Chapter 62

    "I''m here for the interview." Citrine''s eyes turned colder, her patience clearly wearing thin.

    She really didn''t have time for their childish games.

    "So, what position do you im you have at thepany?" The tall guy looked her up and down, a smirk on his face.

    To Manuel, Citrine just looked like another spoiled teen from a rich family, ying pretend.

    Citrine had no idea what was running through his mind. She answered seriously, "I''m the CEO."

    The words had barely left her mouth beforeughter erupted in the caf¨¦.

    "Oh my God, that''s hrious! If you''re the CEO, then I must be the richest woman in Havencrest!" Lunaughed so hard that she had tears in her eyes, covering her mouth to stifle the sound.

    "You''re quite theedian, kid," the tall man joined in, doubled over withughter.

    Citrine watched them coolly, then nced down and quietly texted thepany''s HR manager.

    A minuteter, Luna''s phone buzzed.

    She nced at the caller ID-CICI Group HR-and shot Citrine a mocking look, shing her phone at her. "See? CICI Group''s HR is calling. Let''s see how long you keep up this act."

    With an air of victory, Luna sauntered over to a quiet corner and answered.

    "Hello, this is" She didn''t even get to finish before the HR manager cut her off, "Ms. Harper, the assistant to the CEO position is personally interviewed by our CEO. Due to your recent behavior, your interview has been canceled."

    Luna''s face went pale in an instant.

    Desperate, she shouted into the phone, "Are you telling me that high school girl is actually your CEO?"

    She waited, barely holding back her shock, but the HR manager simply hung up. Luna didn''t need an answer. She already knew.

    When Luna returned, Manuel had also stepped out to take a call. He came back looking equally stunned.

    Citrine gave them a calm, almost indifferent look, as if to say, "See? I told you the truth."

    She offered a resigned smile. "You two should go. You''re not a good fit for CICI Group."

    Luna and Manuel exchanged mortified nces, regret etched on their faces.

    If they''d known the young girl in front of them was actually the CEO, they wouldn''t have dared to mock her.

    Manuel''s eyes shed with a sudden hope. He bowed deeply to Citrine. "I''m sorry, ma''am. I misunderstood. Please, give me another chance."

    CICI Group might have been a recent acquisition, but it was already a major yer, located in the heart of downtown. In just a few short months, it had made impressive strides in the industry, and its future seemed limitless.

    On top of that, CICI Group''s sries and benefits were among the best in Havencrest-second only to The Carmichael Group.

    Missing out on a job here was a real loss.

    Luna quickly followed suit, bowing her head repeatedly. "We were blind to your talent. Now that we know the truth, please give us another shot."

    The two of them pleaded one after another, buzzing around her like flies. Citrine found them increasingly irritating.

    They were the ones who''d burned the bridge, and now they wanted to act pitiful.

    "Opportunities onlye once. You were the ones who wasted yours." She had given them a chance already.

    They tried to protest, but Citrine nced at her watch and said evenly, "My time''s up. I have to get back to ss."

    With that, she walked out of the caf¨¦ without looking back.

    Luna and Manuel watched Citrine''s retreating figure, despondent. They knew their chance was gone for good, and left in utter defeat.

 Chapter 63

    Carlotta sat frozen for a long moment in the caf¨¦, her coffee growing cold between her hands.

    She couldn''t quite make sense of what had just happened-how those two people''s attitudes had shifted sopletely after a single phone call. But if there was one thing Carlotta was sure of from their behavior, it was this: that high schooler really was the CEO of CICI Group.

    It was hard to wrap her mind around the idea that her future boss might be someone who hadn''t even graduated yet. But then Carlotta thought of her brother, lying in that hospital bed, and she steeled herself, hurrying out after them.

    "Wait!" she called out, her voice rising in desperation as she saw Citrine already striding away down the street.

    The winter chill in Havencrest had been unrelentingtely. Citrine hadn''t put in her hearing aids-the metal always felt too cold against her skin-so it took Carlotta calling out several times before she finally stopped and turned around.

    When Citrine paused, Carlotta jogged to catch up, her breathing out in frosty clouds.

    "I want to join CICI Group," Carlotta said, skipping any pleasantries. "You haven''t interviewed me yet."

    Citrine studied her in silence. During the earlierints, Carlotta had been the only one who stayed quiet, and that had left a good impression. She was also the only one who''d actually tried to talk to Citrine like a person.

    Seeing that she didn''t have much time, Citrine decided to ask her questions right there as they walked.

    Carlotta had spent a few years working for a small techpany, so she had some experience. The questions Citrine asked covered a range of topics, and Carlotta managed to answer most of them¡ªat least in part.

    As the conversation went on, Carlotta found herself growing more and more respectful toward the young CEO. She''d expected Citrine to only ask about the usual assistant duties, but to her surprise, Citrine delved into advanced topics- questions about robotics, biotech, things Carlotta could barely grasp, let alone

    answer.

    But Citrine didn''t seem the least bit annoyed by her shorings. Instead, she patiently exined the concepts, making sure Carlotta understood.

    By the end of their impromptu interview, Carlotta was fidgeting nervously, rubbing her fingers together a habit she''d picked up whenever she felt anxious.

    "You''re in," Citrine said atst, a smile breaking across her face. "Come to CICI Group tomorrow-someone will show you the ropes."

    Citrine''s smile was dazzling, like sunshine breaking through after a storm. For a moment, Carlotta''s years of bottled-up tension seemed to ease.

    Maybe it was the warmth in Citrine''s smile or just something about her presence ¡ªbut Carlotta found herself blurting out the question she''d been too embarrassed to ask.

    "Um, would it be possible to get an advance on my sry?" she asked, cheeks flushing. "If not, it''s all right, I understand."

    Citrine''s expression grew serious. "Is it urgent?" she asked quietly.

    Carlotta nodded, ncing away from those steady, sincere eyes. "Yes," she

    admitted, then hesitated, her courage faltering. "But if it''s not possible, I get it. I know I''m asking a lot."

    She could feel the hope draining from her chest, bracing herself for rejection. But then Citrine spoke again.

    "Can you tell me why?"

    Startled, Carlotta looked up, not expecting the question.

    When she didn''t answer right away, Citrine waved a hand in front of her face, gentle and patient.

    Carlotta blinked, suddenly feeling a lump in her throat. "It''s my brother," she said quietly. "He''s very sick. The medication he needs-well, it''s expensive, and he needs it every day just to stay alive."

    Her words tumbled out, and she found herself telling Citrine everything¡ªher brother''s illness, the mounting bills, the fear that kept her awake at night.

 Chapter 64

    Citrine agreed without a second thought.

    "I''ll let HR know, and just so you''re aware, ourpany has an employee assistance program. If an employee or their family gets sick, or someone''s expecting a baby, or there''s any kind of family emergency, you can always apply for support from us."

    "Thank you, Miss Carmichael." Carlotta''s eyes filled with tears instantly, and before she could stop herself, they spilled over-like pearls slipping off a broken string.

    All these years, no matter how hard things got, she''d never shed a single tear. But now, faced with such genuine kindness, Carlotta simply couldn''t hold it in.

    Citrine saw her crying and, for a moment, feltpletely at a loss.

    Awkwardly but sincerely, she reached out and dabbed at Carlotta''s tears, trying tofort her despite herck of experience. "Don''t worry, your brother''s going to be okay. And if you need anything, just ask me. Really-anything at all."

    "Thank you so much, Miss Carmichael." Carlotta could barely find the words.

    "Please, call me Citrine. ''Miss Carmichael'' makes me feel ancient," Citrine said with a wry smile, feeling like she''d aged ten years just hearing the title.

    "Thank you, Citrine."

    For Carlotta, this had be one of the rare, genuinely happy days in her life. Even the bleak days before seemed to hold a glimmer of hope now.

    After herst ss that afternoon, Citrine headed home. Raymond still hadn''t returned.

    That evening, after dinner, Citrine did something out of the ordinary-she sat in the living room to watch TV.

    She put on a suspense thriller, one of the most talked-about blockbusters of the year. But even though the plot was gripping, Citrine couldn''t focus at all.

    Every now and then, her gaze would drift toward the front door, her mind wandering.

    "Miss, are you missing Mr. Carmichael?" Ismael had been quietly observing her, and now he smiled, clearly amused.

    She really was both adorable and stubborn-just like Mr. Carmichael.

    "I... I am not missing him," Citrine stammered, her expression a little flustered.

    Ismael chuckled indulgently. "Of course, of course. You''re definitely not missing him, Miss."

    Citrine: "..."

    After a little while, Citrine couldn''t hold back anymore. Gathering her courage, she finally asked, "Ismael, why hasn''t Raymonde home these past few days?"

    Much as she hated to admit it, she had to face the strange emptiness she''d been feeling in his absence.

    Thinking back on all the ways Raymond had been good to her, a sour ache welled up inside her.

    Ever since she''d left the old manor without saying goodbye, Raymond hadn''te home once.

    That realization hit her hard.

    Was he upset because she''d argued with Weston in front of everyone? After all, Weston was his father, and she''d embarrassed the old man. Raymond would be angry, wouldn''t he?

    The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became.

    A wave of sadness washed over Citrine, dragging her mood down.

    Ismael, noticing her gloom, quickly guessed what was on her mind.

    "Miss, please don''t worry yourself," he said gently. "Mr. Carmichael has been at the hospital these past few days."

    "It''s not that he doesn''t want toe home."

    Citrine''s eyes widened, concern flickering across her face. "The hospital? Is he sick?"

    "It''s nothing serious, just an old condition acting up," Ismael reassured her. He''d worked for the Carmichael family for over a decade, and was familiar with Raymond''s situation.

    "Do you know which hospital he''s at, Ismael?" Citrine pressed, still uneasy.

    "Havencrest Prime Medical Center," he answered without hesitation.

    By now, the warning Raymond had given him to keep this from Citrine was long forgotten.

 Chapter 65

    At Havencrest Prime Medical Center, the best minds in medicine were gathered in the conference room, their faces drawn with concern as they discussed Raymond''s condition. Hours passed, but their debate led nowhere no one had

    answers.

    Meanwhile, Raymondy inside one of the hospital''s newest diagnostic machines, undergoing yet another round of tests. The results, as always, came backpletely normal.

    Calvin adjusted his sses, his tone grave. "Raymond, you haven''t had any heart pain for months. Why did it suddenly re up again?"

    It had been several months since Raymond''sst episode, and Calvin had hoped the worst was behind them.

    Raymond searched his memory, trying to recall anything unusual in his recent life. He finally replied, his voice even, "I''m not sure. Ever since Citrine came back, I haven''t felt that kind of pain in a long time."

    Calvin rubbed his temples, clearly frustrated.

    "What exactly happened the day your heart acted up? Walk me through it," he pressed.

    "I spent the whole day at work, nothing special. The only event was the family dinner at the Carmichael estate that evening-I brought Citrine with me to the old house."

    As Raymond spoke, a realization seemed to dawn on him. "That night, Citrine and my father got into an argument and she left early. He was furious. When I ran outside to look for her, she was already gone. That''s when the pain started."

    Calvin''s suspicions deepened. "Was your daughter especially upset that nightpared to usual?"

    "Yeah." Raymond nodded, the memory clear now.

    Every time Citrine''s emotions ran high, his heart trouble seemed to re up in tandem.

    It was ridiculous-like some bizarre father-daughter psychic bond.

    Calvin had never encountered a case this baffling; there probably weren''t more than a handful like it in the entire country. He''d only ever seen anything like it in novels or TV dramas.

    Calvin sighed. "If you want to get to the bottom of this, maybe the answer lies with your daughter."

    If medical science had no exnation, perhaps something stranger was at y. Raymond ignored him, picking up his phone and ncing at it before quickly setting it aside. He thought he hid his disappointment well, but Calvin caught it instantly.

    "What''s wrong? Missing your daughter?" Calvin teased with a chuckle.

    He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Raymond, you''ve been stuck in this hospital for days now, and your precious girl hasn''t visited you once."

    Calvin had spent nearly every day and night at the hospital with Raymond, and not once had Citrine even sent a message.

    "That''s rough, man," Calvin continued, never one to hold back.

    "Calvin, do me a favor and shut up." Raymond''s fist clenched under the covers as he ground out the words, jaw tight.

    Staring at his silent phone, the absence of any message from Citrine weighed heavily on him.

    "All right, I''ll drop it," Calvin said quickly, not daring to push his luck.

    Raymond didn''t bother to respond. He was in no mood for conversation.

    Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

    Calvin stood and went to open it.

    As the door swung open, he found himself face-to-face with Citrine.

    "Well, hello there. Here to see me?" Calvin''s eyes lit up with his trademark flirtatious grin. He straightened his shirt, all charm and bravado.

    Citrine eyed him warily, instinctively taking a few steps back.

    "Excuse me, is this Raymond''s room?" she asked, double-checking the room number to be sure.

 Chapter 66

    Could it be that Raymond''s already been discharged from the hospital?

    Lying in bed, Raymond immediately looked toward the door as soon as he heard the voices.

    When he spotted Citrine, he instinctively grabbed the nearest pillow and lobbed it at Calvin.

    "You old fool, what the hell are you saying? Get out!" Raymond''s eyes darkened as he recalled what Calvin had just been saying to Citrine a moment before.

    Calvin caught the flying pillow and nced back and forth between the two of them, suddenly piecing it all together.

    "So this is your daughter!"

    Calvin, who rarely knew the meaning of embarrassment, now wished the ground would swallow him up as he remembered the nonsense he''d been spouting just moments ago.

    "Come on in," he said, scratching his head awkwardly, his voice tinged with

    unease.

    After speaking, he shot a cautious look at Raymond.

    Raymond ignored himpletely, apparently worried that Calvin might be a bad influence on his daughter.

    Right now, his entire attention was fixed on Citrine.

    "Don''t mind him he never knows when to keep his mouth shut," Raymond muttered.

    But even so, Citrine could tell from their banter that these two must be close friends.

    Carrying a thermos, Citrine stepped into the room and offered Calvin a polite smile.

    Calvin nodded back in greeting.

    "This is Calvin-my friend and private doctor. Just call him Calvin," Raymond introduced.

    "Nice to meet you, Calvin," Citrine said, sensing no ill intent from him.

    "Pleasure''s all mine," Calvin replied, giving her a yful wink.

    What a character, Citrine thought, stealing a nce at Raymond-so different

    from his friend-and wondered how the two ever became close.

    Night had already fallen, and Raymond was more than a little worried.

    "How did you get here?" he asked, sitting up in bed, his tone gentle.

    Citrine hesitated for a second before answering, "It was Ismael¡ªhe told me you were sick, so I came to check on you."

    She spoke with perfectposure, not the least bit guilty about selling Ismael out.

    As she spoke, she calmly unpacked the simple, nourishing soup and some sides she had brought along.

    Raymond didn''t press her, whether or not he believed her excuse. Citrine let out a quiet sigh of relief.

    "Here, have something to eat," she said, setting up the hospital''s overbed table and adjusting it to afortable height for him.

    Although Raymond didn''t feel particrly unwell at the moment, he was still

    surprised by how deftly Citrine handled everything.

    "Have you looked after patients before?" Raymond asked, feeling awkward about letting her fuss over him and sitting up straighter.

    "I have," Citrine replied simply, not offering any further details.

    Raymond understood and didn''t probe further.

    After all this time, he knew his daughter well enough: if there was something she didn''t want to talk about, no amount of questions would get her to open up. Most

    of the time, her silence just meant she didn''t want to exin.

    Citrine set out the soup and sides on the table, unwrapping each with care.

    "Eat up," she said, handing him a fork.

    Raymond reached for it, took a sip of the warm,forting soup, and couldn''t help but smile.

    It tasted exactly the same asst time.

    She''d made it herself-he knew it.

    Standing off to the side, Calvin caught sight of Raymond''s oddly contented grin as he sipped his soup and felt a sudden chill down his spine. "Raymond, maybe you should take a look in the mirror-you''d see what a sight you are right now."

    Raymond, clearly in a good mood, couldn''t be bothered to respond.

    Calvin wouldn''t have dared tease him otherwise.

 Chapter 67

    After Raymond finished his meal, Citrine moved to clear the table, but he quickly stopped her.

    "Take it easy," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "Kids should act their age." Thest thing Raymond wanted was to see her worn out.

    With that, he shot Calvin a meaningful look, and Calvin immediately caught on. He stepped over and tidied up the table withoutint.

    "Over here, too. And don''t forget that spot-wipe it down," Raymond called out from his ce on the bed, directing Calvin with a nod and a nce.

    "Understood, Mr. Carmichael," Calvin replied, dutifully following orders.

    Despite hispliance, Calvin couldn''t resist tossing a few yful jabs back at Raymond as he cleaned, and soon the two were bickering good-naturedly.

    Watching them banter, Citrine couldn''t help but smile.

    It wasn''t until they finished that she remembered Raymond''s illness. Her expression turned a little more serious.

    She pulled a chair closer and reached out her hand toward him. "Let me see your hand for a second."

    "Hmm?" Raymond looked at her, puzzled, but obediently ced his hand in hers. To his surprise, Citrine ced her fingers on his wrist, feeling for his pulse.

    "You know how to check a pulse?" Raymond''s eyebrows shot up.

    "A little," she replied softly.

    Without another word, Citrine bent to her task, her gaze focused in concentration.

    Raymond and Calvin exchanged a look-she certainly looked the part, with an air of quiet professionalism. Still, neither of them really believed a high schooler could diagnose anything serious.

    After all, Raymond''s illness had gued him for over a decade. They''d seen every specialist there was-locally and abroad-yet no one had found a cure.

    A couple of minutes passed, and Citrine finally let go of his hand.

    Her face was grave, as if she''d really discovered something.

    Raymond couldn''t help but chuckle at her seriousness. "So? What did you find?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

    He hardly expected Citrine to offer any useful insight.

    But her next words made both men freeze and turn toward her, startled.

    "Do you get pain in your heart?" Citrine''s clear voice echoed in the quiet hospital

    room.

    Raymond and Calvin locked eyes, their expressions suddenly much more solemn.

    Hearing her state his symptoms so precisely, they couldn''t help but take this seventeen-year-old seriously.

    "How did you know that?" Raymond managed, trying to hide his shock.

    "It showed in your pulse," Citrine answered simply.

    She didn''t borate further-what she''d sensed went beyond simple science, gleaned from old books filled with half-forgotten wisdom, not modern medicine. Raymond sat there, unable to hide the excitement flickering in his eyes.

    But then Citrine''s next question made the color drain from his face, leaving him speechless.

    "When the paines, does it feel like someone''s stabbing straight into your chest with a knife?" Her eyes grew distant, as if remembering something cold and sharp herself.

    "Yes," Raymond said, nodding emphatically.

    "So, is there any way to treat it?" Calvin''s voice was tense with hope as he fixed his gaze on Citrine.

    Raymond''s illness had haunted him for years. Calvin had read every book, consulted every expert, but nothing had ever worked. Raymond was his closest friend, and not being able to help him was a constant regret.

    Now, with even a glimmer of hope, Calvin couldn''t help but get his hopes up.

    Meeting Calvin''s anxious eyes, Citrine shook her head.

    After a pause, she added, "But I can prescribe something for the pain. It should help when the next attackes."

    Hearing this, both Raymond and Calvin felt a spark of hope flicker back to life.

 Chapter 68

    "Do painkillers even help?" Raymond and Calvin asked her in unison.

    The doctors had prescribed plenty of painkillers before, but none of them had ever worked.

    They didn''t know whether Citrine''s medication would be any different, but neither wanted to give up on any chance, no matter how small.

    "Of course they''ll help," Citrine replied, soundingpletely certain.

    Worried that Raymond might start overthinking things, Citrine paused for a moment before adding, "I can''t pinpoint the cause, but your body is perfectly healthy. The pain in your chest won''t do any real harm, so you don''t need to worry about that."

    "Is there really no way to cure it for good?" Calvin pressed, still unwilling to give up.

    Citrine hesitated, then her eyes lit up as if she''d just remembered something. "Actually, maybe there is."

    "If you want to get to the root of it and fix this once and for all, I''d rmend hypnotherapy."

    As she mentioned hypnotherapy, someone came to Citrine''s mind.

    "I know an excellent hypnotherapist-I can put you in touch."

    She quickly pulled out her phone and sent Raymond the contact details.

    "Yates Cooper... Why does that name sound so familiar?" Calvin muttered, frowning in thought.

    Citrine scratched her head and gave a littleugh. "Probably just because it''s amon name."

    Calvin repeated the name to himself a few more times until it suddenly clicked. "Wait, isn''t Yates the most famous hypnotherapist in the world?"

    But then he shook his head. Surely it couldn''t be the same person-after all, that Yates was notoriously difficult to reach.

    The possibility never really crossed his mind.

    What intrigued him more was something else altogether. "Hey, how do you even know a hypnotherapist?" Calvin narrowed his eyes, genuinely curious.

    In the entire medical field-and really, in everyday life too-hypnotherapists were thest people anyone wanted to get close to.

    Because they weren''t just hypnotherapists; they were also the best psychologists anyone could find. Within minutes of talking to them, they could read you like a book, peeling back everyyer until you feltpletely exposed. Honestly, it was a little terrifying.

    Citrine didn''t respond.

    "Why do you have to ask so many questions?" Raymond noticed Citrine''s reluctance and quickly shut Calvin down.

    That evening, Citrine decided to stay and look after Raymond, insisting that Calvin go home and get some rest.

    Raymond''s VIP hospital suite had a second bed for visitors, so it was easy for Citrine to spend the night.

    She quickly freshened up in the bathroom, theny down on the guest bed.

    A little whileter, Raymond''s voice broke the silence in the dimly lit room.

    "Did you ever study medicine?"

    It struck him then how little he really knew about his own daughter.

    "I studied a bit overseas," Citrine answered, her mind drifting back to those days abroad.

    "I had a few mentors there. They taught me everything they knew."

    It was the first time Citrine had ever mentioned her time abroad, and Raymond was a little surprised.

    "They must have been really good to you," he said offhandedly.

    "Maybe," Citrine replied, her tone distant, her face unreadable.

    "So where are they now?" It was rare to hear Citrine talk about anyone from her past. Raymond found himself wondering if maybe, if she cared, he could track them down for her.

    "They''re dead," Citrine said quietly, the words blunt and final.

    Raymond froze. He realized he had probably touched on something he shouldn''t have and didn''t say anything else.

    That night, Citrine tossed and turned, sleep eluding her.

    For once, she let herself remember her teachers from another life.

 Chapter 69

    The next morning, Calvin arrived at the hospital bright and early.

    He took his time inspecting every corner of the room before finally letting his gaze settle on Raymond, who was lying in bed. "Where''s my niece?"

    "She''s at school," Raymond replied, eyes glued to hisptop screen, not sparing Calvin even a nce.

    Calvin didn''t seem bothered by the cold reception and ventured with a hint of hope, "She''s got real talent. Has she ever considered going into medicine?"

    Raymond nced up, immediately seeing through Calvin''s intentions.

    Back home, Calvin had plenty of connections in the medical field. His mentor was none other than Professor Oliver, the most renowned medical expert in the country.

    Both Calvin and Professor Oliver were known for spotting and nurturing talent. Calvin secretly hoped that Citrine might one day apprentice under Professor Oliver.

    After all, with a name like that behind her, Citrine would have a limitless future in medicine.

    Raymond paused his typing, though he didn''t answer right away. Thinking of Citrine''s independent streak, he finally said, "That''s up to her. Whatever she decides to pursue is her own choice. I won''t interfere."

    Hearing this, Calvin dropped the subject.

    ***

    That afternoon, after school, someone approached Citrine and handed her a note. The message invited her to meet at a restaurant just outside the school''s east gate.

    Curiosity piqued, Citrine turned the note over in her hand before deciding to go.

    Meanwhile, in a private dining room at the designated restaurant, the entire Iverson family had already gathered.

    "Are you sure Citrine''s going toe?" Sawyer asked impatiently, recalling how Citrine had blocked his number and deleted him from all her contacts.

    "Rx, Dad," Clifford reassured him, looking confident-though Sawyer failed to notice the guilt flickering in his son''s eyes.

    Sawyer checked his watch. Deciding it was almost time, he fixed Norton and Clifford with a stern look. "Remember what I said: you both owe Citrine an apology. You misunderstood her, and this time, I want you to make it right."

    Then he turned to Jete, his tone harsher than she''d ever heard. "You, too. You''re going to apologize to your sister properly. Otherwise, don''t bother calling yourself my daughter."

    "I''ll apologize," Jete muttered, visibly reluctant, but Sawyer''s chilly attitude toward hertely left her little choice.

    The scandal involving Citrine and Jete had been trending at the top of social media for days, and the Iverson family''s best efforts and money-couldn''t bury the story.

    Because of it, Jete''s reputation at school had taken a nosedive. Even her teachers whispered behind her back.

    She''d never experienced humiliation like this before. If she''d had any other way out, apologizing would have been thest thing on her mind.

    A few minutester, Citrine arrived at the private room.

    The moment she opened the door, she understood exactly what was going on.

    Aline was the first to greet her, stering on a smile as she hurried over. "Citrine, you''re finally here. We were just waiting for you." She wrapped an arm around Citrine''s shoulders in a show of forced affection, beaming as if they were close.

    Citrine''s expression soured, her stomach twisting in disgust.

    "Get off me," she snapped, stepping back and brushing Aline''s hand away. Aline stumbled against the door with a noisy thud.

    "Citrine, honey, I know you''re still angry at me," Aline whimpered, clutching her lower back and dabbing at imaginary tears.

    Citrine shot her a look and let out a coldugh.

    Crocodile tears.

    "If you called me here just to put on this show, I''m not interested." Without another word, Citrine spun on her heel and headed for the door.

    Seeing her about to leave, Aline''s demeanor changed in an instant. She quickly wiped away her fake tears, her face hardening.

 Chapter 70

    Everyone could tell Citrine really meant to leave this time, and a ripple of anxiety swept through the room.

    "Citrine, wait-don''t go yet." Sawyer suddenly stood up and blocked her path.

    He looked at her and said, "I had the kitchen put together a whole spread of your favorite dishes tonight. It''s been ages since we''ve all sat down as a family." By the end, a note of wounded pride crept into his voice.

    Citrine paused.

    She collected herself, then walked straight over to the empty seat beside Sawyer and sat down, never once sparing a nce for anyone else at the table.

    Honestly, she hadn''t eaten yet, and after all the trouble the Iversons went through to lure her here, she was curious to see what their real motive was.

    Might as well watch a circus-she''d just sit back and let herself be entertained.

    "Here, Citrine, have some fish. I remember you loved it when you were little." Sawyer speared a piece and reached over, about to ce it in her bowl.

    But in the next instant, Citrine simply moved her bowl aside.

    The piece of fish fell unceremoniously onto the table.

    The rest of the Iversons were stunned by Citrine''s tant disregard.

    Sawyer was used to being the final authority in the family; no one ever dared defy him. Especially Citrine-she''d always been the most obedient. No one expected her to push back.

    "Citrine." Sawyer''s voice was hurt, his gaze suddenly clouded with emotion.

    "You must be mistaken, Mr. Iverson. Jete''s the one who loves fish, not me." Citrine gave him a cool, dismissive smile, showing him no respect at all.

    Sawyer forced an awkward chuckle and tried again, this time offering a sweet and sour rib. "Citrine, surely you''ll like this-try a bite?"

    Citrine shielded her bowl with her hand, meeting his gaze with a faint, sardonic smile. "Mr. Iverson, have you forgotten? I''ve never eaten meat."

    Sawyer''s hand froze midair. He racked his brain for what Citrine liked, but after a long, ufortable pause, realized all he could remember were Jete''s preferences.

    Defeated, he set the serving tongs down.

    "All right, then. What do you want?" Citrine''s tone grew impatient.

    She couldn''t be bothered to look at any of them anymore; her attention shifted to the food in front of her.

    The food at this ce was actually quite good, especially the vegetarian dishes. Citrine genuinely liked the vors here-in herst life, she''de to this restaurant often.

    "It''s nothing, really. I just thought it''s been so long since we all got together." Sawyer, still carrying the guilt of having wronged Citrine in the past, spoke with a twinge of remorse.

    How amusing.

    Citrine couldn''t help but let out augh.

    "A family? That''s almost disgusting," she said with a biting sarcasm.

    "Who are you calling disgusting?" Clifford jabbed a finger in her face, voice rising with anger.

    "Citrine, what''s with the attitude?"

    He barked at her, already brimming with resentment, and her words only stoked his fury.

    "I''m not an Iverson," Citrine shot back coldly.

    She continued, her tone razor-sharp: "I always took you for just a simple-minded fool, but apparently you''re deaf, too."

    "And you think you''re not?" Clifford sneered, delighted to get in a jab of his own.

    "Oh, I''m deaf, sure-but at least I''m not an idiot. Can''t say the same for someone else at this table." Citrine didn''t even sound angry; she smiled sweetly, each wordnding like a p.

    "You-!" Clifford was practically trembling with rage, but had noeback.

    Citrine, meanwhile, calmly ate her dinner, not even bothering to look up, as if Clifford''s outburst was nothing more than background noise.

    Clifford, on the other hand, was flushed with anger, teetering on the edge of losing control.

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    The atmosphere inside the private dining room was icy cold.

    No one from the Iverson family touched their food. Each face looked grimmer than thest.

    All of them sat in silence, eyes fixed on Citrine as she ate with apparent enjoyment, savoring each bite.

    Sawyer, though clearly displeased by Citrine''s attitude, managed to rein in his temper. After all, he had wrongly used his daughter for so long; he could hardly me her for being upset.

    In as gentle a voice as he could muster, he said, "Citrine, the main reason we asked you here today is to apologize."

    "We were wrong to use you."

    As he spoke, Sawyer shot a meaningful nce at his two sons.

    Norton, the eldest at twenty-five, was the first to respond. He rose stiffly to his feet. "Citrine, I misjudged you. I''m truly sorry," he said. But even as he apologized, he couldn''t hide his air of superiority.

    Citrine looked up at him, her gaze cold and unimpressed. "What are you so smug about? Is there anything to be proud of? Weren''t you adopted too?"

    "Drop the holier-than-thou act. You''re not above anyone here."

    She''d always disliked Norton''s condescending attitude, and now it just made her skin crawl.

    Norton opened his mouth as if to retort, but nothing came out.

    It took him a long moment before he managed, "Even if we were wrong, that doesn''t mean you should treat us like this."

    Citrine couldn''t be bothered to answer.

    If the family insisted on making her ufortable, she''d make sure none of them could enjoy their meal either.

    Sawyer, realizing Citrine was still furious, shot another warning look at his younger

    son.

    Clifford, catching his father''s eye, muttered grudgingly, "Sorry. I shouldn''t have used you." His apology was even less sincere than Norton''s.

    This time, Citrine didn''t even nce at him¡ªshe might as well have been listening to the wind.

    Next, it was Jete''s turn.

    Jete''s eyes brimmed with tears, her expression unchanged from before, as if she''d been waiting for her moment on stage.

    Citrine watched, mildly amused.

    Jete, never one to waste an opportunity, dabbed at her eyes. "Sis, I''m so sorry. It was all my fault-I shouldn''t have set you up. I know I was wrong."

    She looked at Citrine with wide, trembling eyes, as if afraid a single harsh word would shatter her.

    Citrine ignored her and turned to Sawyer, asking seriously, "So, Mr. Iverson, after all this trouble to get me here, is your goal to make me forgive them? Or are you hoping we''ll all be one big happy family again?"

    Sawyer didn''t answer, but his silence said enough.

    He fixed Citrine with what he clearly thought was a fair and fatherly look. "Citrine, I know you''ve been hurt, but I''ve made sure they all apologized. You grew up together you''re all Iversons, all part of this family. You shouldn''t be enemies."

    Citrine''s thoughts drifted back to her childhood-the year Sawyer first adopted her. She remembered being bullied by a group of boys, and how Sawyer, upon finding out, had marched over and given those boys a piece of his mind. After that, no one dared mess with her again.

    Now, the man who once stood up for her was asking her to forgive the very people who''d hurt her. The irony was almostughable.

    "Mr. Iverson, am I supposed to ept an apology just because it''s offered? If Jete were the one being wronged, would you say the same thing?" Citrine put down her fork and wiped her hands slowly, deliberately.

    "But that''s not the situation," Sawyer stammered, caught off guard by her question, unsure how to respond.

 Chapter 72

    Perhaps he already knew the answer in his heart-he just didn''t want to say it out loud.

    Sawyer pressed on, "But your sister knows she was wrong. I''ve had her reflect on her actions over and over these past few days."

    "What does that have to do with me?" Citrine''s irritation was mounting, and it was clear in her voice.

    Sawyer sighed, the exhaustion etched deep in his eyes. "Jete''s already faced the consequences. People online are tearing her apart, and now everyone at school-students and teachers knows what she did. Their opinions of her aren''t exactly kind. If this keeps up, it''s going to seriously hurt her chances of getting into a good college."

    He was supposed to be apologizing, but every word he spoke was in Jete''s favor. Citrine found it deeply annoying.

    "She brought this on herself. No one forced her to set me up. Whatever''s happening now, she has only herself to me." Citrine took a sip of water, her gaze icy.

    Sawyer was at a loss for words. "But... Jete is your sister." He hadn''t expected Citrine to harbor this much resentment toward her own family.

    "I have nothing to do with the Iverson family. Stop insulting me."

    Citrine was growing impatient with the same tired arguments repeating over and over. She couldn''t help but roll her eyes.

    "If you''re not going to get to the point, I''m leaving."

    Jete''s face went pale with panic. "Please, don''t go, sis!"

    It was the first time Citrine had ever seen her so anxious-so different from her usual arrogance. Citrine almost found it amusing and sat back down.

    Jete spoke through tears, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "I really know I was wrong, I swear. People online are saying horrible things about me. I can barely show my face at school anymore."

    She sure could cry, Citrine thought. Maybe in a past life she was made of water.

    "So, what exactly do you want from me?" Citrine asked, looking Jete straight in the eye.

    Seeing a glimmer of hope, Jete''s expression brightened. "If you could just clear things up online-tell everyone it was all a misunderstanding and that I never tried to hurt you then everything would blow over. We could get along better after that."

    Inside, Jete was smug: No matter how Citrine changed, she was still soft- hearted at her core. All it took was a few words and she''d have her wrapped around her finger.

    Citrine didn''t answer right away. Instead, she turned to Sawyer.

    Noticing Citrine''s expression soften, Sawyer smiled encouragingly. "Jete really knows she was wrong. If you forgive her, she won''t ever hurt you again."

    "And your guarantee means what, exactly?" Citrine''s voice was cold.

    "Of course it means something," Sawyer replied, unflinching.

    Yeah, right. She didn''t believe a word of it.

    Everyone in the room was staring at Citrine, waiting for her response, as if a single word from her could set everything right.

    Citrine smiled faintly. "I never said I''d clear her name."

    "You-you can''t be serious!" Aline burst out, mming her hand on the table as she stood. Just thinking about her daughter being bullied online made her heart ache.

    "Well, I''ve finished my meal, so I''ll be going now." Citrine didn''t even look her way. Under the gaze of everyone present, she stood up calmly and headed for the door -as if the only reason she''de was for dinner.

    "Citrine, can''t you just forgive us?" Sawyer''s voice was heavy with disappointment.

    Citrine shot him a cold look, her eyes full of scorn. "Let''s be real, you didn''t invite me here to patch things up. This whole little setup was just to get me to clear Jete''s name, and you know it."

    She paused, letting the words sink in. "Don''t think I don''t see through it. If I say anything on Jete''s behalf, I get dragged into her mess-and I get nothing out of it. Do you really take me for a fool?"

 Chapter 73

    In just a couple of sentences, Citrine hadid bare the real motives of the Iverson family.

    Meeting her icy gaze, Sawyer felt his heart sink. The words he''d intended to say caught in his throat, and he swallowed them down with difficulty.

    "Citrine, when are youing home?" Sawyer finally managed, his voice strained. In that moment, he looked every bit the anxious father, longing for his daughter''s return.

    But Citrine only found the scene bitterly ironic. The smile on her lips never reached her eyes. "Have you forgotten, Mr. Iverson? I''m a Carmichael now. My name is Citrine Carmichael."

    Once upon a time, she might have wagged her tail for even the smallest scrap of affection. But those days were over. She wasn''t that foolish girl anymore.

    Her clear, unwavering voice carried through the room, so everyone in the Iverson family heard her words loud and clear.

    Jete''s eyes narrowed just a fraction, suspicion flickering within her. Feigning innocence, she asked, "What do you mean, the Carmichael family''s daughter?" Then, turning to y the concerned sister, she added, "Sis, what are you talking about?"

    Sawyer went pale, exchanging a swift, rmed nce with Norton. The two of them were the only ones who knew Citrine had found her birth father. Sawyer had made Norton promise to keep it secret, so no one else in the family knew the truth.

    But no one had expected Citrine to drop the bomb herself, right in front of everyone.

    Seeing the confusion on the faces of the others, Citrine raised an eyebrow. "Looks like Sawyer hasn''t told you yet."

    Sawyer stared at this daughter who seemed like aplete stranger, dread rising in his chest. He blurted out, "Citrine, please don''t say that. No matter what, you''ll always be part of the Iverson family if you want to be."

    Even though Citrine was nothing like the girl he remembered, Sawyer couldn''t bear to lose her.

    Disgusted, Citrine let out a coldugh. "Who the hell wants to be part of your family?"

    "I''ve found my real father. From now on, I have nothing-absolutely nothing-to do with the Iversons." Her words were sharp, leaving no room for argument. She was done with them, once and for all.

    The room fell into stunned silence. Everyone stared at her, their expressions tangled and unreadable.

    It was as if they were all thinking the same thing: Is she really that naive?

    Citrine rolled her eyes. "What are you looking at? You should be happy-no one''s going to fight you for the inheritance anymore."

    They really should have felt relieved. But for some reason, Citrine''s words stole away any satisfaction they might have had.

    Of all people, Jete should have been the happiest. Strangely, she felt no joy at all; for the first time, she couldn''t read Citrine.

    Only Sawyer was left staring at his daughter, dazed. She could have kept this to herself, but she''d chosen to say it out loud.

    He could see the truth in her eyes-she truly loathed the Iversons and wanted nothing more to do with them.

    Realizing this, Sawyer felt as though someone had cut his heart open. The pain was sharp and raw.

    Back at the Carmichael estate, Citrine finally pulled a voice recorder from her pocket.

    The next morning, the recording hit the top of social media trends, and the inte exploded.

    "Are the Iversonsplete morons?"

    "Their biological daughter frames the adopted one, and then expects her to clear her name for them? What a bunch of shameless creeps."

    "What kind of garbage is that dad and those two brothers spewing? Guess you never know pain until the knife''s in your own chest, huh?"

    "They keep saying they''re sorry, but it''s obvious they''re just trying to force Citrine to cover for Jete. Rich families really are the masters of hypocrisy."

    "I swear, Jete and her mom are both pieces of work. Citrine, the actual victim, barely gets a word in before those two start the waterworks. If they''re the kind of people who''d steal her allowance and set her up, what does that tell you? Maybe in a past life they were stic bags-totally empty inside."

 Chapter 74

    "The whole Iverson family, except for Citrine, is just a bunch of idiots. The more I think about it, the angrier I get."

    "How does someone that stupid even run apany? With a heart that ck, there''s no way they''re making anything decent. From now on, I''m never buying anything from any Iversonpany again."

    Public outrage against the Iverson family swept the nation. That day, The Iverson Group''s stock price took a nosedive, and Sawyer threw a fit in his office.

    Meanwhile, Citrine went about her day at school as if nothing had happened.

    Ever since the truth came out about her not pushing Jete down the stairs, Citrine''s reputation on campus had done aplete 180.

    Her striking looks only drew more attention-suddenly, plenty of students wanted to befriend her.

    After sses ended, two girls she''d recently met invited Citrine and Amelia out for the afternoon.

    The four of them started with a movie at the mall and then headed to an upscale karaoke lounge.

    As they reached the door, Amelia tugged nervously at Citrine''s sleeve, her face a little pale. "Citrine, this is Siren''s Whisper. Maybe we should go somewhere else?"

    Siren''s Whisper was the most exclusive karaoke bar in Havencrest-naturally, the prices matched.

    Leonie and Felicity, both fromfortable but modest families, had never set foot in a ce this fancy before. Their eyes shone with anticipation, but reality quickly set in. They shook their heads, embarrassed. "Yeah, Citrine, this is a bit much for us. Maybe we could try somewhere else?"

    Just then, a shrill voice cut through the conversation.

    "Honestly, what a bunch of nobodies. Clearly never seen how the other half lives." The woman addressing them wore bright red lipstick, her hair styled in dramatic waves, and a tight cocktail dress that did little to distract from the thick makeup caked over her face. Her features-clearly the product of a little too much cosmetic work-looked even more severe as she sneered at them.

    "What''s your problem?" Amelia shot back, feeling thoroughly insulted.

    "My problem is that I don''t have time for broke kids like you," the woman replied, rolling her eyes. Working at a high-end ce like this, with a sry that most people could only dream of, she clearly didn''t see Citrine and her friends as worth her trouble.

    Even Leonie and Felicity, normally the picture of patience, couldn''t hold back their anger. They were just about to give the woman a piece of their mind when Citrine shot them a calming look.

    They swallowed their protests.

    Citrine stepped forward, her gaze icy and voice firm. "Get your manager. Now."

    "And who do you think you are? Our manager doesn''t just see anyone, you know." The woman coolly looked them up and down again, her disdain even more obvious after confirming their clothes didn''t scream ''VIP.''

    "I''ll say this onest time. Get your manager." Citrine pulled a card from her pocket-the one Raymond had given her-and pped it down on the marble counter.

    "You think just because you¡ª" The woman''s voice died in her throat as she caught sight of the card.

    "That''s a ck tinum card-how did you...?" Her eyes widened in disbelief, voice suddenly trembling.

    Siren''s Whisper was owned by the Carmichael Group, and there were only two ck tinum cards in existence-both held by the owner.

    If this girl had one, she had to be someone important.

    The woman''s bravado vanished, reced by a sudden sh of fear.

    Citrine didn''t bother to answer. "Get your manager," she said again, her patience gone.

 Chapter 75

    As soon as Sebastian stepped into the club, his gaze immediatelynded on Citrine among the small group of people.

    Tonight, she wore a ck leather jacket over a white slip dress, her chestnut hair tumbling carelessly down her back. The look was equal parts sweet and edgy, making her stand out dazzlingly in the crowd.

    It had been over two weeks since he''dst seen her-Sebastian hadn''t expected their paths to cross again so soon.

    Right now, she stood there, expressionless, exuding a kind of aloof beauty that made people hesitate to approach. The phrase that popped into Sebastian''s mind was "untouchable." She was like a rose on a mountaintop-beautiful, but distant.

    It seemed she was in the middle of a disagreement with the receptionist. Even though her face was calm, Sebastian could sense she was upset.

    "What''s going on? Is something wrong?" he asked, not wasting any time as he strode over.

    Citrine blinked in surprise when she saw him. "What are you doing here?" She could''ve sworn he worked at a bakeryst she''d checked-what was he doing at this ce now?

    "I''m on night shift," Sebastian replied, ncing down at his staff uniform as if that exined everything.

    She noticed the uniform for the first time and didn''t press further.

    "So, what happened?" Sebastian looked from Citrine to the woman at the front desk.

    Citrine didn''t try to hide anything. "We just wanted toe in and have some fun, but the staff here called us freeloaders."

    Sebastian''s eyes hardened at the words.

    "I''ll report this directly to the manager. For now, let me show you to your room."

    With that, he led them down the hall and into a private lounge.

    "If you need anything, just let me know," Sebastian said, handing Citrine the menu with a gentle tone.

    "Just these, thanks." Citrine ticked off a few fruit tters and some drinks before returning the menu.

    "Alright, enjoy yourselves," Sebastian said, giving her a final nce before slipping out.

    Once he was gone, the girls let loose, finally able to rx.

    They''d been worried at first, but when the receptionist saw Citrine pull out her ck tinum card, her attitude changedpletely-and the girls felt a huge wave of relief.

    "Citrine, this is my first time in a ce this fancy!" Amelia gushed, snapping a flurry of photos with her phone and sharing them to a private story.

    "Oh my god, this is unreal!" Leonie marveled, poking around the room, touching everything she could. She was having the time of her life.

    Felicity wandered over to the massive TV screen, giggling. "This thing is huge! I''ve never seen anything so luxurious."

    Once their excitement died down, they all settled back onto the plush couches.

    Amelia suddenly remembered the handsome guy from earlier and turned to Citrine, curiosity lighting up her face. "So, Citrine-who was that guy? He''s really cute. What''s your rtionship?"

    "Yeah, he was so sweet to you!" Leonie chimed in.

    "Come on, spill! Are you two together or what?" Felicity joined the chorus, not wanting to miss the gossip.

    Citrine looked at her friends, a little exasperated. "We barely know each other. This is only the second time we''ve met."

    "If you hardly know him, why was he so gentle with you? The way he looked at you was definitely special," Amelia teased, grinning.

    Citrine frowned, genuinely surprised. "Really? I didn''t notice anything like that." Soon, the conversation moved on.

    It was their first time in such a high-end karaoke lounge, and everyone was bubbling with excitement. Citrine, seeing how happy her friends were, couldn''t help but catch their enthusiasm.

    They were in the middle of an energetic song when the door to their private room suddenly swung open.

    A man in a suit walked in, followed by several staff members carrying trays of fruit, snacks, and drinks.

 Chapter 76

    As soon as someone entered the room, everyone inside set down their

    microphones at once, and the ce fell abruptly silent.

    "Is something wrong?" Citrine asked, puzzled. Her expression still held a trace of annoyance at being interrupted.

    The man in the lead¡ªa sharply dressed manager in a tailored suit-hurried over to her, eager to please.

    "Miss Carmichael, I''m the manager here," he said, bowing his head politely. "I''ve heard about what happened earlier. It was our staff''s fault for disturbing your evening, and I sincerely apologize on behalf of the club." He lowered himself even further, finishing with a deep, respectful bow.

    "We''ve brought you our freshest fruit tters, drinks, and a selection of snacks. I hope you''ll enjoy them," he continued, signaling to his staff with a nce. The others immediately caught on and began setting the treats down on the coffee table in front of Citrine and her friends.

    "Thank you," Citrine replied with a polite smile.

    Truth be told, her earlier irritation quickly melted away at the sight of the food.

    "There''s no need to thank me. It''s the least we can do," the manager said, a little surprised by how easygoing she was.

    When he first heard that someone had used a ck premium card in the club and that one of his employees had offended the cardholder, his heart nearly leapt into his throat.

    He''d made a frantic call to headquarters and found out the card belonged to President Carmichael''s daughter. Terrified, he''d rushed over in person to handle the situation.

    Wealthy heiresses were notoriously hard to please let alone the daughter of President Carmichael, who must have grown up in thep of luxury. He''d braced himself for a storm ofints and demands, but to his astonishment, Miss Carmichael had been nothing but gracious. She was the exact opposite of the spoiled, entitled stereotype.

    He found himself genuinely liking her.

    In less than three minutes, the whole ordeal had been resolved, and the manager -who''d started out a bundle of nerves-now felt strangely cheerful.

    Once outside, he assembled all the club''s staff.

    When everyone had gathered, he addressed them sternly: "Remember the young woman in the leather jacket in the VIP suite. Make sure she has everything she needs tonight, and if she everes back, you treat her like royalty. If anyone dares offend her again, you can kiss your job goodbye."

    With that, he turned to the receptionist who''d caused the incident.

    His face hardened. "You. You''re done here. Don''t bothering in again."

    The receptionist panicked. "Manager, please! I''m sorry, I didn''t realize she was someone important¡ªI mean, she was dressed so inly, she didn''t look¡ª"

    He cut her off sharply. "Didn''t look what? Didn''t look rich?"

    "Haven''t you ever heard of custom designerbels?"

    Idiot. Wealthy people don''t always unt brand names.

    He couldn''t be bothered to argue further.

    The receptionist felt her world copse. Regret twisted like a knife in her gut, but it was far toote for that now.

    After she left, the manager quietly sought out Sebastian.

    "Sebastian, I owe you one for the heads-up. If you hadn''t warned me, I''d be out of a job right now."

    He hesitated, then added, "Tell you what I''ll give you a raise. Just name your price."

    Sebastian paused, thinking of the young woman''s innocent face. Without hesitation, he refused. "That won''t be necessary."

    Even though he was desperate for money, the thought of epting it for exploiting that girl made him feel uneasy.

    "But I thought you needed the money? Why turn it down?" the manager asked, confused.

    "I don''t need it," Sebastian replied, offering no further exnation and refusing to budge.

 Chapter 77

    Halfway through her set, Citrine slipped out to use the restroom.

    Siren''s Whisper was the most exclusive club in Havencrest-a ce so decadent, even the bathrooms boasted glittering crystal chandeliers that probably cost more than most people''s cars.

    After washing her hands, Citrine was about to head back to her private booth when a sudden, anguished scream made her pause mid-step.

    She changed directions, following the desperate cries.

    "Help! Please, somebody help me!"

    A girl, her face hidden by a curtain of tangled hair, was being dragged toward the men''s room by two burly, middle-aged men. She wore a revealing ck slip dress, the side slit running high up her thigh, exposing pale, vulnerable skin.

    "Shut up, you little slut!" One of the men barked, pping her hard across the face when she tried to call for help.

    The girl''s head snapped to the side, but her voice was still pleading. "Please, I''m begging you let me go."

    "Cut the act," sneered the bald one, gripping her jaw with bruising force. "Your old man handed you over to our boss himself. y innocent all you want, you''re not getting out of this. If you won''t entertain our boss, you deserve a lesson."

    Citrine didn''t realize why the girl''s voice sounded familiar.

    As the men tried to force the girl into the restroom, Citrine strode over and blocked their path. "Enough. Let her go."

    "Well, well, what do we have here?" The bald thug leered, his gaze crawling over Citrine''s features. "How about you join us, sweetheart?"

    He reached out to grab her, but before his filthy hand could touch her, Citrineshed out with a sharp kick to his shin. "Get your hands off me, you creep."

    He hadn''t expected such strength from a girl, and without any time to brace himself, he crashed to the floor with a thud.

    "You little bitch!" The other man lunged at her, fist raised.

    Citrine dodged easily and mmed her fist into his eye, hard enough to leave him reeling. A dark bruise blossomed immediately beneath his eye.

    The bald man struggled to his feet, face twisted in rage. "You''d better mind your own business, kid. Or we''ll drag you in too."

    Citrine just smiled, an eyebrow cocked in open challenge. "Go ahead. Try me."

    Around them, well-heeled patrons barely spared a nce. At Siren''s Whisper, ugly scenes like this were practically background noise-no one wanted to get involved.

    The two thugs tried to rush her, making as if to grab both girls at once.

    But Citrine was quicker. She dodged their hands and, before they could react, stomped down hard on one man''s calf, pinning him to the ground, while wrenching the other''s arm back at a painful angle.

    Both men mountains of muscle-howled in agony, forced to their knees.

    "Let go! Please, let us go!" they shouted at her, panic in their voices.

    "Apologize," Citrine ordered coldly.

    "We''re sorry! We''re sorry, okay? Please, just let us go!"

    "Yeah, we swear, it''ll never happen again!"

    Two big, tough guys kneeling on the floor, blubbering apologies-it was a bizarre sight.

    Still unsatisfied, Citrine twisted their arms a bit more and shot a look toward the girl huddled in the corner. "To her. Apologize to her."

    Stammering, the men turned toward the girl, banging their foreheads against the floor in frantic apology. "We''re sorry! We were wrong! It''ll never happen again!" "Get out of here," Citrine snapped in disgust, finally releasing them. When the thugs had scurried off, Citrine approached the girl.

    "Are you alright?" she asked, crouching down and keeping her voice gentle.

    The girl kept her head buried in her knees, silent for a long moment. Citrine guessed she must be terrified, so she softened her tone, her usual cool edge giving way just a little. "It''s okay. They''re gone now. No one''s going to hurt you."

    Alicia, her face hidden, listened to Citrine''s voice. Little by little, the trembling in her heart eased. But still, she couldn''t bring herself to look up.

 Chapter 78

    She never imagined their next meeting would happen like this. With her face buried against her knees, Alicia felt her eyes sting; tears slowly seeped into her ck dress, dampening the fabric.

    A momentter, she sensed something draped across her shoulders.

    Citrine had slipped off her coat and gently ced it over Alicia''s back.

    "You should head home. Be careful-there are some real creeps out at this hour."

    Noticing Alicia had no interest in conversation, Citrine didn''t press. She left her with that parting warning and turned to go.

    As Citrine''s footsteps faded into the distance, a surge of indescribable loneliness washed over Alicia.

    She clutched the coat tighter, then suddenly stood and called after her, "Citrine!" Hearing her name, Citrine turned around, familiar yet changed.

    "It''s really you?" Alicia met Citrine''s gaze, searching her face for traces of the girl she used to know. Citrine looked calm, almost indifferent, though there was a flicker of surprise in her eyes.

    "Thank you for helping me," Alicia said, holding Citrine''s eyes, her own heart in turmoil.

    Citrine''s features hadn''t changed much-still echoing the girl from their childhood -but now there was a coldness about her, a distance that kept Alicia firmly on the outside.

    "Surprised it''s me?" Alicia gave a bitter smile.

    Once the golden child everyone envied, she had fallen so far, reduced to a ything for others'' amusement. Of all people, it had to be Citrine who saw her at

    her lowest. She must think Alicia deserved every bit of it.

    "Yeah. What rotten luck." Citrine''s reply was blunt, with no attempt to soften the blow.

    Citrine nced at her coat, wincing inwardly; it was designer, expensive. But now that it was draped over Alicia''s shoulders, she couldn''t bring herself to ask for it back.

    Alicia froze, feeling as if a piece of her heart had been carved out. She pressed her lips together and forced herself to speak. "Do you regret saving me, now you know it was me?"

    "Of course. If I''d known, I wouldn''t have bothered." Citrine answered without hesitation.

    She never forgot the pain Alicia had caused her. Citrine was not one to forgive or forget.

    Citrine''s words cut deep, like a knife. Alicia''s voice trembled. "You must be enjoying this, seeing me like this, aren''t you?"

    Citrine just stared at her in silence.

    Alicia bit her lip, forcing another bitter smile. "I never thought my father-the man I thought loved me-would force me to drink with his clients."

    "Ever since the Chase family fell apart, my parents have be ugly strangers. The home I loved is gone. I have nothing left..."

    She poured out everything she''d bottled up, all the humiliation and betrayal of the past weeks.

    Citrine listened, unmoved. "That''s not my problem."

    Her coldness stung more than any insult.

    Everything that had happenedtely had shattered Alicia''s entire world. The father who once doted on her now hit her, dragged her to parties to entertain his business associates¡ªeven tried to force her into bed with an overweight, leering old man. The mother who used to be so gentle had grown distant and cold, even plotting with her father to marry Alicia off to that same man.

    Alicia had always believed she was blessed, cherished by the perfect family. Only after the Chase family copsed did she realize it was all a lie.

    Years of love and loyalty-fake.

    Night after night, she dreamed of the fire: young Citrine carrying her out through the smoke, shielding her from the explosion. Even when Citrine lost hearing in her left ear, she''d never med Alicia.

    She''d said it was her own choice.

    They weren''t even rted by blood-just friends. But Citrine had risked everything for her.

    Thinking of her own parents and rtives, Alicia could onlyugh at herself. She''d been blind.

    She''d lost the best person in her world-Citrine-and now, it was toote.

 Chapter 79

    Alicia''s face was already streaked with tears; in this moment, she let go of thest shreds of her pride.

    "Citrine, I regret everything," she choked out.

    Her voice echoed across the room as she called out to Citrine.

    Citrine hesitated, taken aback. She knew exactly how proud Alicia was-and just how hard it must have been for her to say those words.

    But what did it matter to her now?

    Alicia had been the one to betray her first.

    With a quiet, almost mockingugh, Citrine replied, "Too bad there''s no such thing as a second chance in this world."

    She paused, then added, "Everyone has to live with the consequences of their choices. I''ll leave you with that."

    Alicia faltered. Her thoughts tumbled back to that time-years ago when she''d lied for Jete, and Citrine, by terrible coincidence, had just learned that she''d lost all hearing in her left ear. Citrine had locked herself away for days, refusing to see anyone. The bright, cheerful girl she''d once been had rarely smiled since.

    Alicia had gone to her then, asking, "Do you regret it? If you hadn''t saved me, you wouldn''t have lost your hearing in that ear."

    By then, Citrine had already started shutting her out. She''d only given a t, distant reply: "Everyone has to live with the consequences of their choices."

    Now, Alicia heard those words thrown back at her.

    A bitter ache welled up in her chest. Months of shame and guilt finally broke her down; she copsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrobly.

    "I''m sorry, Citrine. I shouldn''t have lied."

    "If you hadn''t risked yourself to save me, your ear would never have been hurt. It''s my fault. I ruined everything."

    "I''ve always felt so guilty. It hurt so much every time you ignored me. I started picking fights with you at school just to get your attention. And when I saw you making new friends, I just... I couldn''t stand it. I was jealous-furious, even. Why should someone else get to be close to you? You were supposed to be my best friend."

    Alicia''s cries were raw and wrenching.

    Citrine only stared at her, her eyes cold and unchanged.

    "You betrayed me because of your family," she said quietly. "We''re not friends anymore."

    Those memories from long ago the ones Citrine tried hard not to revisit-always brought nothing but pain.

    Without another word, Citrine turned and walked away, not sparing Alicia another nce. As she passed the balcony, she suddenly stopped.

    Alicia''s words had dredged up memories she''d tried to bury: the injury to her left ear, her best friend''s betrayal, her family''sck of trust, the ridicule and bullying from ssmates. All those painful experiences seemed to fill her childhood.

    Thinking back now, Citrine realized she couldn''t remember a single happy memory from her time with the Iverson family.

    A chill wind whipped past, tossing Citrine''s long hair around her shoulders. The ck hearing aid behind her left ear was now fully visible.

    She''d given her jacket to Alicia, so all she wore was a white, knee-length sundress, exposing her slender, graceful legs.

    In the darkness, her fair skin seemed to glow with a silvery sheen under the moonlight, her slim arms bare and elegant, beautiful in a way that drew the eye.

    Sebastian arrived just in time to witness the scene: the girl''s delicate waist, the smooth line of her back, the butterfly-shaped contours of her shoulder des¡ª she looked like a living work of art.

    Flustered, Sebastian quickly averted his gaze.

    It was only as he stepped up beside her-on her left-that he noticed the prominent ck hearing aid. His mind shed back to the conversation he''d just overheard between Citrine and the other girl.

    He''d actuallye over when he heard themotion, but by the time he arrived, Citrine had already dealt with the two men. He''d caught the tail end of her exchange with Alicia.

    Remembering the words they''d exchanged, a strange, unreadable look flickered in Sebastian''s eyes.

 Chapter 80

    It wasn''t until Citrine''s voice broke through the haze that Sebastian snapped back to reality.

    "What are you doing here? Don''t you have work?" Citrine stared at him, eyes never leaving his face.

    "I finished my tasks for the day, so I thought I''de here for some fresh air." Even as he spoke, Sebastian couldn''t help but nce at Citrine''s left ear.

    Realizing what he was doing, he quickly looked away. "Sorry, I didn''t mean to stare."

    Citrine''s expression didn''t change; she didn''t seem to think there was anything to apologize for. She spoke up herself, "I hurt my ear when I was little. Can''t hear out of it anymore."

    Her tone was so light, Sebastian couldn''t detect any emotion, not even a hint of sadness.

    In this moment, Citrine was nothing like the girl he remembered from thest time they''d met. Now, she seemed wise beyond her years, her eyes holding feelings he couldn''t even begin to decipher.

    Worried he might upset her, Sebastian dropped the subject of her ear. He tried to lighten the mood with a teasing smile. "Feeling down? Want to talk about it?"

    Today, there was a deep sadness in Citrine''s eyes-so deep that Sebastian felt a pang in his chest just looking at her.

    He''d always thought of himself as level-headed and hard to read, but in the two times he''d met this girl, he''d never managed to figure her out.

    Citrine realized he was trying to cheer her up and paused, surprised-she hadn''t expected someone like him to botherforting anyone.

    Thinking of Sebastian''s impressive reputation, Citrine''s gaze sharpened. Someone like him would make a far better ally than an enemy. Quietly drawing him closer now would only help her in the future. She doubted he''d disappoint her.

    Shaking off her gloomy thoughts, Citrine smiled and asked, "What about you? What do you do when you''re feeling down?"

    Sebastian blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question.

    Usually, he''d rx by smoking a cigarette or working out at the gym.

    But ncing at the girl in front of him-still too young to legally drive-he hesitated.

    "I usually read a bit, or head to the arcade to y games and distract myself," he said after a pause.

    He wasn''t exactly a saint, but he wasn''t heartless enough to set a bad example for a kid.

    Citrine nodded, though Sebastian couldn''t tell if she''d actually been listening.

    "Wanna go out and have some fun?" Sebastian checked his watch. There was still plenty of time left in the day.

    After a moment''s hesitation, Citrine nodded.

    She popped back into the private room to let her friends know, then headed to the front desk to check out.

    Sebastian quickly got permission from his manager and led Citrine to the nearest arcade.

    He bought a hefty stash of tokens at the counter.

    Remembering how much girls seemed to love stuffed animals, Sebastian nced over at a row of w machines. Leaning down, he asked in a gentle voice, "See anything you like? Want me to win one for you?"

    Citrine''s eyes lit up. "Sure."

    They walked over to the machines together, and Citrine pointed out her favorite- a big plush fox.

    Sebastian fed in a token, maneuvered the w right above thergest fox, and hit the button with confidence.

    Both of them watched, anticipation shining in their eyes, as the w descended¡ª only for the plushie to slip away at thest second.

    "No worries, I must''ve missed the mark. Let''s go again."

    "Go on, I believe in you." Citrine encouraged him, noticing how determined he looked.

    But the second try ended the same way-the prize slipped right out of the w.

    Truth was, this was Sebastian''s first time at an arcade. He''d never yed with these machines before, and he hadn''t expected something that looked so easy to be so tricky in practice.

    Embarrassing, really.

 Chapter 81

    Citrine watched Sebastian intently, her gaze fixed on every move he made at the w machine.

    If she was counting right, this was already his ninth attempt.

    And still, not a single plushie had made it out.

    "Want me to give it a try?" Citrine asked, testing the waters.

    "Go ahead," Sebastian replied, a little flustered now that even his ears turned red

    after so many failed tries. Hearing Citrine''s suggestion, he quickly slid a game token into the slot for her.

    Lining up her shot, Citrine pressed the button with confidence. The very next second, the fox plushie dropped easily from the w.

    "Got it." Citrine''s eyes sparkled as she scooped up the toy.

    "You''re really good at this," Sebastian said, seeing her so pleased, a small smile tugging at his lips.

    The way he said her name caught Citrine off guard.

    "What? Am I not supposed to call you Citrine?" Sebastian noticed her expression and couldn''t help but ask.

    "No, it''s fine. You can," Citrine stammered. Honestly, he could call her whatever he wanted as long as she could get on his good side.

    It was just that Sebastian suddenly using her name so familiarly took some getting used to.

    Since they''d met, aside from exchanging names that first day on social media, neither of them had ever actually called the other by name.

    "So, should I call you Sebastian from now on?" Citrine figured that since he was using her name, she couldn''t just keep calling him "big brother" all the time¡ª especially since he definitely wasn''t her brother.

    Sebastian stared at Citrine, then suddenly grinned. "How old are you, anyway?"

    "I''ll be eighteen soon," Citrine answered, not sure why he was asking but taking the question seriously.

    He folded his arms and cocked his head at her. "So, you''re seventeen."

    He kept going, "I''m twenty. If you call me by my first name, aren''t you getting away with something?"

    Citrine nodded, strangely convinced by his logic. "Then what should I call you?"

    She considered "Mister Sebastian," but that sounded ridiculous-like calling someone "sir" at a bar. No, that wouldn''t do.

    Citrine racked her brain but couldn''te up with a better option.

    Sebastian seemed stumped too. "Forget it, just call me by my name."

    Citrine nodded in agreement.

    Afterward, they wandered over to a few other arcade games. Sebastian soon realized this girl had a real knack for gaming.

    While she yed, all those hard-to-read emotions vanished from her face; she was focused, almost childlike, and for the first time he saw her as a regr kid.

    By the time they left the arcade, it was alreadyte. ncing up at the dark sky, Sebastian felt a flicker of worry.

    "I''ll walk you home," he said. "It''s not safe thiste."

    Citrine checked the time, then decided not to argue.

    It was only a ten-minute walk from downtown to Grandeur Waters Residences. They didn''t bother calling a car, just strolled back on foot.

    The temperature in Havencrest dropped sharply at night, and now it was already down to the low fifties. Citrine was still wearing a spaghetti-strap dress, her bare skin turning red from the cold. She shivered involuntarily.

    Only then did Sebastian notice her trembling. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

    The biting chill disappeared at once, reced by the lingering warmth of the jacket''s owner.

    Citrine nced up at Sebastian; he was left in nothing but a ck t-shirt.

    She clutched the jacket tighter and asked, "Aren''t you cold? Now that I''ve got your jacket, what about you?"

    "I''m fine. This is nothing," Sebastian replied.

    Truthfully, he''d barely notice the cold-he could take a cold shower in this weather and not bat an eye.

    They reached the gates of Grandeur Waters, the upscale private vimunity, and Sebastian was once again reminded of the vast gulf between their worlds.

    He waited until Citrine was safely inside before turning to go, afraid that if he lingered any longer, the insecurities festering inside him would take root.

    "Crap," Citrine muttered to herself as she changed clothes upstairs, suddenly realizing Sebastian''s jacket was still draped over her shoulders.

 Chapter 82

    She ran out to the balcony and looked down, but by then, the man was already gone.

    Well, I guess I''ll just have to return it to him next time, she thought.

    Not the worst thing, really¡ªa good excuse to keep in touch.

    That night, after running Sebastian''s clothes through the wash, Citrine quietly hung them up to dry on the balcony outside her own bedroom.

    Only then did she finally feel at ease and drift off to sleep.

    She slept soundly, but while her night was peaceful, things were far from calm over at Siren''s Whisper.

    The two thugs who''d gotten into a brawl with her at the karaoke bar-along with their boss¡ªhad been ambushed, thrown into the back of a van, and dragged off to an abandoned factory by a rival group. By the time they staggered back, they were barely alive.

    This whole thing had been set in motion by the manager after consulting with Raymond. Citrine knew nothing about it.

    The next morning, Citrine had barely reached the ssroom door when Jete and Clifford blocked her path.

    "Citrine, can youe outside with us for a moment?" Jete nced

    nervously over her shoulder at the people in the hallway.

    Seriously? Bad news first thing in the morning?

    Citrine didn''t even hesitate. "Nope, I need a nap," she said tly.

    She didn''t spare them a single nce, just brushed past and headed straight into her ssroom.

    "That girl''s getting way too full of herself," Clifford muttered, fuming. He started to storm into Citrine''s ssroom.

    "Let it go, Clifford. She clearly doesn''t want to see us," Jete hissed, grabbing his arm to pull him back before he could make things worse. She was all too aware that angering Citrine could ruin her own ns.

    For once, Citrine enjoyed a quiet morning and thought she''d finally have some peace¡ªat least for today. But right after lunch, Jete turned up again at her ssroom door.

    This time, she was alone.

    "Can we talk?" Jete approached Citrine''s desk. Most of the students hadn''t returned yet, so the ssroom was almost empty. Jete slid into the seat across from her.

    Maybe because Clifford wasn''t around, Jete had dropped her usual fragile act. Her voice was even, her eyes clear-no more theatrics.

    So she''s finally dropped the act, huh, Citrine thought, studying her with a newfound curiosity.

    "What do you want to talk about?"

    "I want to talk about the Iverson family shares." Jete''s gaze was steady, brimming with confidence.

    "The Iverson family shares?" Citrine''s brow furrowed.

    Jete went on, "Dad gave me twenty-five percent of The Iverson Group. The contract goes into effect when I turn eighteen." Her tone was proud, almost triumphant, as if she finally had the upper hand.

    And it was Sawyer who''d given her that confidence.

    Citrine blinked, startled. She had never known about this. Somewhere along the line, Sawyer had started keeping her out ofpany matters-she''d been left in the dark.

    But she did know that Sawyer only owned fifty percent of thepany''s shares. He''d already given five percent each to Aline and Clifford, leaving himself with just thirty-five percent.

    It had never urred to Citrine that Sawyer would hand over a quarter of thepany to Jete. That could only mean he intended for Jete to inherit the Iverson legacy.

    No matter how disillusioned Citrine was with Sawyer, learning he''d secretly transferred twenty-five percent to Jete still stung.

    She was, after all, an outsider.

    Even though Citrine had never wanted topete with Jete, Sawyer had still chosen to keep her at arm''s length.

    "Interested?" Jete''s eyes glittered.

    Citrine regarded her nkly. "Why would the Iverson shares have anything to do with me?"

    Jete leaned forward, deliberate. "I''m willing to give you five percent."

    Citrine''s lips curled into a sudden smile. "And what''s the catch?"

    "Just clear things up online. Defend me¡ªand the Iverson family." Jete met her gaze, unwavering.

 Chapter 83

    Citrine had already guessed what Jete was up to. She wasn''t surprised.

    Ever since the scandal about the Iverson family broke, shares of The Iverson Group had gone into a freefall. Sawyer was probably losing sleep trying to hold things together, and if he couldn''t, thepany would take a hit so hard it might never recover. In a ce like Havencrest, a family on the brink rarely finds friends willing to help-they just get pushed down even faster.

    Citrine used to think Jete was an idiot, but now she realized the girl wasn''t entirely clueless. Unfortunately for Jete, she''d picked the wrong person to mess with.

    Without even pausing to consider, Citrine replied, "With the Iverson Group''s stock tanking like this, five percent isn''t even worth my time."

    "And why on earth would I help you?"

    She had no intention of bailing out the Iverson family from this mess. Not a chance.

    "You think it''s not enough?" Jete frowned, searching Citrine''s face.

    Citrine stayed silent, and Jete assumed that meant she was considering it. Gritting her teeth, Jete upped the ante. "Ten percent. That''s the best I can do."

    Citrine let out a coldugh. "You''ve got to be kidding me."

    "What makes you think I''d ever agree to this?"

    Blind confidence really is its own kind of stupidity.

    Those scraps of shares meant nothing to her now-she''d build her own business empire one day. And besides, she hadn''t even gotten to see the Iversons tear each other apart yet. Last time, she''d gotten in the way before the chaos could unfold. This time, she wanted a front row seat.

    Jete stared at her in disbelief. "Citrine, that''s ten percent of thepany! With that, you''d never have to worry about money again. Even Clifford and Norton don''t get that much."

    Her voice had risen, trembling with emotion.

    For years, Jete and her mother Aline had schemed to keep Citrine away from the Iverson fortune-plotting, manipting, even trying to get rid of her altogether. They''d been terrified she''d fight for her share.

    But now, Citrine had cut ties with the Iversons of her own ord. Even with this kind of temptation in front of her, she didn''t so much as blink. Jete could see it she really didn''t care about the family''s money.

    Suddenly, all those years of backstabbing and paranoia felt like a sick joke.

    "Are you out of your mind?" Jete snapped, herposure cracking as she shouted at Citrine.

    Citrine didn''t get angry. She just smiled, but her eyes were as cold as winter. "Did you forget everything you''ve done to me?"

    Jete paled under her stare. "Th-that was all in the past..."

    "You''d really give up ten percent of thepany just because of some old

    grudges?" Jete was desperate now, clinging to her offer.

    Citrine stepped closer, her voice low and deliberate as she leaned in. "That''s right.

    I don''t want your shares. I just want you and your mother to rot in hell."

    Her words were venom, and when Jete looked up into Citrine''s icy eyes, she felt a chill run down her spine.

    "Shut up!" Jete stumbled backwards, putting as much distance between them as she could, her voice shaking as she yelled.

    Citrine was about to answer when a group of students burst into the ssroom.

    Amelia saw Jete sitting across from Citrine and marched over, grabbing Jete by the arm and yanking her up. "Who do you think you''re yelling at? Get out of our ss."

    She started to shove her toward the door.

    "Don''t touch me!" Jete nearly tripped, only just managing to steady herself against a desk.

    The whole school already knew about the Iverson family drama-social media was aze, and everyone had picked a side. Most students had long since lost patience with Jete; now, with her academic reputation in tatters, she was just the spiteful little sister who''d tried to ruin her own sibling, and the Iversons were nothing but a cruel, dysfunctional foster family.

    Someone shouted at her from the back, "Jete, how do you even have the nerve to show your face here? After everything your family did to Citrine, don''t you feel any shame?"

    "Seriously, the Iversons are disgusting. Citrine cut ties with you guys, so why are you still haunting her?"

    "Just get out! I don''t want you here trying to frame me, too."

    Voices echoed with contempt.

    Jete''s days at school had be a nightmare. Her ssmates avoided her, students in other grades whispered behind her back, and now, Citrine''s friends were openly shouting her down. She''d never felt so humiliated in her life.

 Chapter 84

    Jete suddenly snapped. Tears streaming down her face, she screamed at the group, "You pathetic fools! What''s the point of defending Citrine? The Iversons don''t protect her anymore-even if she found her real dad, he''s dirt poor! What does she have topete with me? I was born to live the good life. My starting line is where her finish line ends!"

    Citrine watched Jete''s meltdown with mild amusement. Honestly, she found Jete a bit more tolerable like this-throwing a tantrum-than when she used to put on that pathetic, fragile act.

    Jete''s outburst sucked all the air out of the room. The ssroom fell silent; no one had expected Jete, who always yed the victim, to say something so venomous.

    Most of the students at their school came from ordinary backgrounds. They naturally sided with Citrine, and Jete''s words only made her more unpopr.

    Finally, sobbing, Jete ran out of the ssroom.

    As soon as she was gone, a crowd formed around Citrine, everyone eager to reassure her.

    "Don''t listen to her, Citrine! Even without the Iversons, I know you''ll do amazing things."

    "It''s their loss, honestly. The Iversons don''t deserve a daughter like you."

    ...

    In that moment, everyone seemed to forget that Citrine was the same high school girl who had forked over five million dors to buy her way out of her family. That kind of money didn''t just fall from the sky-it meant she had exceptional talent and a mind for business.

    Citrine had no idea why Jete was so convinced her biological father was broke, but she couldn''t be bothered to exin. Let them think what they wanted.

    It had been a while since shest checked the publishing contract for her novel. Suddenly remembering, Citrine logged onto her writing ount to take a look.

    The moment she logged in, she was bombarded by a flood of notifications. There were endlessments from readers urging her to update, plus several direct messages from editors.

    She clicked on the first one.

    "Obsidian, your novel Innocent is currently the top-ranked work on our tform. Severalpanies are interested in acquiring the rights. Would you be avable for an in-person meeting?"

    "Obsidian, it''s been days since you signed the contract-could we have your contact details?"

    Since she hadn''t seen the earlier messages, the editor had sent a string of nearly identical follow-ups, all either asking for her contact info or proposing a face-to- face meeting.

    Without hesitation, Citrine sent over her phone number.

    No sooner had she hit send than her phone buzzed with a new notification.

    "No way, that was fast."

    She opened her messages and, sure enough, saw a new friend request. Citrine epted.

    Immediately, her phone chimed again and again with iing messages. "Obsidian! I can''t believe I finally reached you-I''m so excited!"

    "Your novel is incredible. It''s currently the hottest seller on our entire site."

    "I''m seriously lucky to be working with someone as talented as you."

    "You probably don''t know this, but I''m actually a huge fan of your work!"

    The messages rolled in so quickly that Citrine had no idea where to start, so she just replied to each one in turn.

    The editor chatted with her enthusiastically about plot points and characters, and Citrine answered every question thoughtfully.

    If the editor hadn''t had to work, Citrine suspected they might have talked all night. Finally, they agreed to meet on Saturday, and Citrine closed the chat.

    With nothing else to do, she scrolled through her readers''ments-nearly all glowing praise, with only a few rare criticisms.

    Then, on impulse, she clicked into the site''s royalties dashboard.

    She nearly jumped out of her chair.

    The total royalties for the past three months had reached five million dors.

    Citrine always knew that writing could make her some money, but she''d never expected it to be this much.

    Between the five million she''d already made and this new windfall, she was set for life.

    Grinning at the sight of so many zeroes, Citrine tried to cash out-and to her delight, the whole sum transferred instantly.

 Chapter 85

    That night, Nove Publishing was alive withughter and cheer. What was supposed to be ate-night overtime slog had, thanks to Edith, transformed into apany party.

    At the karaoke bar, Edith found herself at the center of attention, surrounded by colleagues who had always kept her at arm''s length. Now, one after another, they crowded around, raising their sses to toast her with a sudden warmth she knew wasn''t genuine.

    Edith saw right through it. If it weren''t for hernding the Obsidian deal with that industry heavyweight, none of them would be fawning over her like this.

    Even thepany owner, along with every manager and executive, had shown up tonight-a clear sign of just how much her achievement mattered.

    In all her twenty-something years, Edith had never felt so triumphant. It was as if she''d stepped straight out of the pages of a feel-good novel and into the starring role herself. Despite the thrill bubbling up inside her, she managed to keep her expression cool andposed.

    Just then, the CEO made her way over, ss in hand.

    It was Edith''s first time meeting the big boss face-to-face, and she couldn''t help but tense up, just a little. "Ms. Wendy," she greeted her, voice careful.

    "Edith, we owe you everything," Wendy said sincerely, pouring Edith a generous ss of wine. "If you hadn''t secured Obsidian, thispany might not have survived."

    Nove Publishing had been her father''s pride and joy. After his death, her uncles and other rtives began circling, eager to wrest control from her and undermining her at every turn.

    Lately, thepany''s finances had been on the edge-but Edith''s Obsidian contract had been a lifeline, bringing in desperately needed funds.

    "Oh, Ms. Wendy, you''re too kind. I was just doing my job," Edith replied, her tone polite.

    Wendy shook her head, clearly unconvinced. "Obsidian could have chosen any editor, but they picked you. That speaks volumes about your ability."

    Edith fell silent. The truth was, she hadn''t done anything special-just gotten lucky.

    Wendy pressed her lips together, then dered, "The leadership team met earlier. We want you to take over as our editor-in-chief."

    Edith shot to her feet. "Really?"

    Wendyughed at Edith''s astonished expression. "Of course! You''ve always delivered results, and now you''ve brought in Obsidian. Thepany has decided to award you a fifty-thousand dor bonus."

    "Fifty thousand?" Edith gasped, hardly able to believe her ears. It felt like a dream.

    The good news just kepting.

    Seeing that Edith looked positively stunned with happiness, Wendy smiled. "And if Obsidian brings us more manuscripts, you''ll get amission on those, too."

    Saturday.

    The two had arranged to meet downtown at a tea lounge. Citrine finished her breakfast and headed out.

    She''d expected their meeting would be in a coffee shop, not somewhere as refined as a tea lounge.

    Edith had chosen the most exclusive tea house in Havencrest¡ªa stately old building with dark, elegant decor. As Citrine stepped inside, she immediately felt the weight of tradition in the air.

    Before entering, she called Edith to let her know she''d arrived.

    "Where are you?" Edith stepped out from the lounge, scanning the entrance but

    not seeing anyone who matched Citrine''s description.

    The only person in the courtyard was a teenage girl.

    Maybe she hasn''te in yet?

    Edith stepped outside, nced around, but still didn''t spot her.

    She was about to dial Citrine''s number again when she noticed the young girl walking toward her. Edith froze, phone in hand.

    The girl was stunning-more beautiful than any celebrity Edith had ever seen. For

    a moment, she just stared, caughtpletely off guard.

    It wasn''t until the girl''s clear, melodic voice broke the silence that Edith snapped out of it.

    "Are you looking for me?" Citrine asked.

    With only the two of them there, it was clear Edith was the person she''de to meet.

    Edith eyed her with a hint of doubt. "And you are...?"

    Instead of answering, Citrine simply held up her phone, showing their chat on the screen. "You''re Edith, right?"

 Chapter 86

    "You''re Obsidian?" Edith stared at the chat on her phone, then looked up at the girl in front of her, her eyes wide with astonishment.

    "I''m sorry, I just... I didn''t expect you to be so young?" Now that she''d seen the chat history, Edith was sure¡ªthis girl really was Obsidian.

    In her mind, anyone who could write a book as profound as *Innocence* had to be, well, at least a middle-aged woman.

    The subject matter in *Innocence* was so deep, the kind of thing only someone with a wealth of experience could write. Edith couldn''t imagine a teenager pulling it off.

    "It''s fine," Citrine replied,pletely unfazed. She was used to people underestimating her just because of her age-she couldn''t really me them. "Um, how about we talk somewhere else?" Edith suggested, a bit uncertain.

    She''d picked a traditional tea shop for their meeting, assuming Obsidian would be older. Now that she was sitting across from a high schooler, a different ce seemed more appropriate.

    "Sure," Citrine agreed easily. She never cared much for tea anyway-would''ve just been a waste of good leaves.

    A few minutester, they found themselves in the caf¨¦ next door.

    Edith had felt nervous before, expecting to meet someone twice her age. Now, with a teenager sitting opposite her, most of that tension had faded.

    "Obsidian, would you sign something for me?" Edith asked eagerly, pulling a in white T-shirt from her backpack andying it out on the table.

    Citrine nodded. "My name''s Citrine Carmichael. You can just call me Citrine."

    Being called "Miss" anything made her ufortable.

    "Thank you, Miss Citrine!" Edith said, grinning as she handed over a pen with both hands.

    Citrine hesitated for half a second, then took the pen and scrawled her pseudonym across the shirt.

    Once the signing was done and they''d chatted for a bit, Edith got down to business.

    "Your novel is a hit, both here and overseas. There are a lot of people interested in buying the rights, and a few studios are hoping to adapt it for film or TV."

    As she spoke, Edith pulled a stack of contracts from her bag and set them on the table.

    "These are from some of the better publishing houses and studios, both here and abroad. I''ve weeded out the less favorable ones¡ªyou can look through these and pick whichever you like."

    Citrine eyed the mountain of paperwork and felt a headacheing on.

    "Why don''t you decide for me?"

    She''d researched Edith''spany before publishing her book. It wasn''t big, but it had a reputation for treating its authors well-a rare ce that didn''t skimp on royalties and always did its best to protect writers'' interests.

    "Don''t worry, I promise you''ll get the best deal," Edith said, unexpectedly moved by Citrine''s trust.

    She managed a roster of writers, but very few ever ced this much confidence in her. Even though she was just an agent doing her job, she always tried to get her authors the best possible terms. Most of them, though, preferred to handle contract negotiations themselves.

    Suddenly, Edith remembered something her boss had asked her to bring up. "Oh, by the way, my boss wanted to know if you''d consider signing a long-term contract with us?"

    Citrine shook her head without hesitation. "I only wrote this novel in my spare time. I''m still in school, and I don''t have much free time right now."

    Edith couldn''t help but look disappointed.

    Citrine thought for a moment, then added, "But if I write something new in the future, I''ll definitelye to yourpany first."

    Edith''s disappointment vanished in an instant.

 Chapter 87

    When Citrine stepped out of the caf¨¦, night had already fallen.

    She was about to call her driver when, at the intersection ahead, she saw a ck SUV collide head-on with a massive truck. The front of the SUV crumpled under the impact, thick ck smoke billowing from the engine.

    Within seconds, a crowd gathered at the intersection-most people standing back to gawk, none daring to approach the wreck.

    Citrine slipped her phone back into her purse and pushed her way into the throng.

    As soon as she made it to the front, she recognized a familiar face through the shattered rear window.

    Her expression changed in an instant. Determined, she shoved aside the people blocking her way and forced herself through.

    "Somebody call an ambnce!" she shouted before she got to the smoking SUV, her voice cutting through the buzz of the crowd.

    Someone finally snapped out of their stupor.

    "Hurry, call emergency services! If you wait, someone could die!"

    Just as Citrine was about to reach the car, a bystander yelled at her, "Miss, get

    back! That thing''s smoking¡ªit could explode any second!"

    "Yeah, sweetheart, you''d better stay away, it''s not worth risking your life!"

    "You''re just a kid-don''t do something reckless for someone else!"

    Citrine ignored them, her tone grave. "There''s an elderly man inside. If he doesn''t get help now, he could die."

    With that, she strode right up to the car.

    She reached through the half-open window, grabbed the emergency hammer, and smashed the ss at all four corners, carefully clearing the shards before opening the door from the inside.

    Weston''s face was streaked with blood, his leg pinned under the seat. He was trapped and unable to move.

    Citrine leaned halfway into the wreck, working inch by inch to free the elderly man''s leg.

    His leg was wedged in tight, and though Citrine was young, her strength was starting to fail her. Within minutes, sweat beaded on her brow and her hands began to tremble.

    Weston squinted through the haze, surprise flickering across his usually stern features when he recognized her.

    "What are you doing here?" He forced his eyes open, that familiar icyposure now cracked with pain.

    "Don''t talk. Breathe deeply. Save your strength." Citrine didn''t look at him, focusing all her effort on the task at hand.

    Weston noticed the way her hands shook and, without another word, did as she said-drawing in slow, steady breaths.

    Atst, Citrine managed to free his leg. She pressed her handkerchief to the wound to stop the bleeding, then climbed out of the car.

    Bit by bit, she eased Weston out and propped his hands onto her shoulders.

    "Still got some strength left, old man?" she asked, ncing back at him.

    Weston nodded, but before he could say anything, he felt himself lifted off the seat.

    "Then hold on," Citrine said, her voice calm and steely.

    She carried him toward the curb, sweat trickling down her temple.

    As they neared the roadside, someone from the crowd rushed over to help take Weston from her.

    Citrine cast a quick look at the SUV''s dazed driver, then turned to head back toward the wreck.

    She had barely taken a step when she felt someone grab her sleeve.

    Turning, she found Weston gripping her arm, his gaze full of conflicting emotions.

    Thinking he was worried about his condition, Citrine reassured him, "Don''t worry, you''ll be fine. The ambnce will be here soon."

    Weston shook his head, reading her intentions all too well. His voice was urgent and stern. "You can''t go back there."

 Chapter 88

    He clung even tighter to Citrine''s sleeve, refusing to let go no matter what.

    "The car''s billowing ck smoke-if you go back, it could explode any second. It''s too dangerous!"

    "If I don''t, he''ll die." Citrine pried the old man''s hand off her arm, her jaw set, and turned back toward the wreck.

    The driver inside the car was in even worse shape than the old man. From the looks of it, he was barely clinging to life.

    Citrine didn''t waste a second. She tore strips from her shirt and used them to bandage the driver''s wounds, staunching the bleeding as best she could.

    Only once she''d done everything she could did she start to drag him out.

    Just then, the shrill wail of an ambnce cut through the chaos. Paramedics rushed over, quickly taking Citrine''s ce and carefully pulling the driver to safety.

    Without hesitating, Citrine climbed into the ambnce and rode with them to the hospital.

    Raymond saw the breaking news at work, and his heart nearly stopped. Grabbing his car keys, he tore out of the office and sped to the hospital, cutting what should have been a thirty-minute drive down to ten.

    The whole way, he prayed silently: Please, let Citrine be safe.

    He ran the entire way inside, not breathing easy until he saw Citrine¡ªAlicia¡ª sitting unharmed outside the ICU.

    Bored from waiting, Citrine had just stood up to go buy something to eat when she suddenly found herself staring into a pair of bloodshot eyes.

    Raymond''s eyes were wild and red, like a cornered animal''s; for a second, Citrine saw something fierce and dangerous flicker there-so unlike his usual stoic self.

    On instinct, she took several steps back as he strode toward her.

    Raymond didn''t seem to notice her retreat. He rushed forward and wrapped her tightly in his arms.

    "I''m so sorry. I should havee sooner." Raymond''s voice was shaking.

    For the first time, Citrine realized how shaken he really was. She let him hold her, waiting until his breathing steadied before gently patting his back, trying to reassure him. Then she asked softly, "Are you okay?"

    "I saw the news-the car was in mes. I thought you might have gotten hurt trying to help." Raymond finally let go, his eyes slowly returning to normal.

    "I''m fine," Citrine said, hearing the worry in his voice and feeling a little awkward. She exined, "It was Weston who was in the ident."

    Raymond stared at her, silent.

    Thinking he was worried about Weston, Citrine added, "Don''t worry, he''s alright." Raymond''s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he finally spoke.

    "I thought you didn''t even like Weston. Why did you risk your life to save him?"

    He''d seen the reports¡ªhow the car was about to explode, how Citrine had thrown herself into danger for Weston. The thought of what might have happened if the car had blown up while she was inside made his blood run cold.

    Even though it was his own father trapped in that car, Raymond''s first thought-if he was honest-had been for Citrine''s safety.

    It took Citrine a while to answer.

    "He''s your father."

    Raymond paused, something cracking open inside his chest.

    Citrine went on softly, "If anything happened to him, you''d be devastated."

    "I don''t want you to be sad."

    Raymond stared at her, those words echoing again and again in his heart.

    He couldn''t help but ruffle her hair, a small, shaky smile tugging at his lips.

    "You little fool."

    "No matter what happens, your safety will alwayse first."

    "Okay." Citrine''s reply was barely above a whisper. She quickly lowered her eyes, hiding the storm of emotion swirling within them.

 Chapter 89

    An hourter, the doctor finally emerged.

    He removed his mask and gave Raymond a reassuring nod. "The old gentleman''s leg was treated professionally before he arrived, and thanks to the prompt care, he''s out of danger now."

    At those words, some of the tension in Raymond''s furrowed brow eased.

    Remembering his daughter''s long, exhausting day, his tone softened a little.

    "Citrine, why don''t you head home and get some rest? I''ll stay here and look after things."

    "All right." Citrine nodded.

    Her stomach was already rumbling, and she''d been craving a decent meal. Besides, her grandfather had never been particrly fond of her, and she was in no mood to linger where she wasn''t wanted.

    After leaving the hospital, Citrine made her way to a favorite bistro she frequented.

    It was already past seven, and the ce was packed, every table bustling withughter and clinking sses. Luckily, Citrine was dining solo and didn''t have to wait-she slipped right into a newly vacated seat.

    She ced her order, then returned to her table and finally pulled out her phone.

    It was the first real moment she''d had to herself all day.

    Dozens of missed calls and over a hundred unread messages lit up her screen.

    Raymond''s earlier mention of trending news made her heart sink; she could already guess what it was about.

    First, she called her grandfather to check in, then worked her way through the flood of messages.

    By the time she finished replying, the food had begun to arrive. Citrine snapped a quick photo of her meal and sent it to her grandfather before finally digging in.

    Halfway through her dinner, a noisy group burst in and took the table directly behind her.

    Citrine nced over with mild interest before turning her attention back to her food.

    The neers had barely settled before one of them called out, loud and brash, "Where''s the manager?"

    The voice was so assertive it sounded less like a dinner party and more like someone spoiling for a fight.

    But it had nothing to do with her, so Citrine ignored them and slipped on her headphones, shutting out themotion.

    The manager hustled over, trying to lookposed. "What can I get for you?"

    Mr. Aldridge pulled several thick stacks of hundred-dor bills from his bag and spread them across the table, shing a sly grin. "We want Sebastian to personally wait on us tonight. All this is yours." He nudged the cash toward the stunned manager.

    The manager stared, wide-eyed, at the money, swallowing hard.

    "What? Not enough?" Mr. Aldridge sneered, then added a few more stacks to the pile.

    "Will that do?"

    "Yes, yes, absolutely! I''ll fetch Sebastian right away!" The manager snapped out of his daze, gathered the bills into his arms, and bowed repeatedly to Mr. Aldridge before hurrying off.

    As soon as he was gone, Mr. Aldridge let out a dismissive snort, then turned to the young woman beside him, his demeanor instantly shifting.

    Quentin Aldridge shed his earlier arrogance and spoke gently to Kali Glenwood, "Kali, I asked Sebastian toe out and join us. This should cheer you up, right?"

    Kali''s voice was cool and distant, clearly reluctant. "Is this really okay?" Quentin, however, was putty in her hands.

    At her mild protest, Quentin bristled. "Why wouldn''t it be? That Sebastian should be grateful for your attention. Who does he think he is, turning you down?"

    "Brother, this isn''t right." Kali shifted her gaze to another man at the table, hoping for support.

    Theo reached over and ruffled his sister''s hair affectionately. "There''s nothing wrong with it. Someone as wonderful as you deserves anything she wants. No matter what it is, I''ll make sure you get it."

    Kali smiled, touched. She leaned her head against Theo''s shoulder. "You''re always so good to me."

    Just then, Sebastian emerged from the back room and locked eyes with Kali.

 Chapter 90

    Kali immediately jerked her head back and straightened up in her seat.

    "Sebastian." She smoothed out her clothes as if nothing had happened, but her eyes were locked on him with an intensity that was a far cry from her usual chilly demeanor.

    Sebastian''s expression had gone frosty.

    He said impatiently, "I''ve already told you I''m not interested. There''s no need to keep chasing after me."

    "Sebastian, just give me a chance. I know you''ll end up liking me," Kali replied, her gaze brimming with stubborn confidence.

    Sebastian paused, then said, "Maybe I wasn''t clear with Ms. Glenwood before." His tone was t and firm. "So let me be absolutely direct-I don''t like you, and I never will."

    Kali froze for a split second.

    Sebastian was known for his even temper; he almost never lost his cool. She hadn''t expected him to turn her down so bluntly, and especially not in front of everyone.

    A flush of embarrassment swept across Kali''s face, pale one moment, red the next.

    Theo''s eyes narrowed when he saw his sister rejected so publicly.

    "Who the hell do you think you are, talking to my sister like that?" Theo''s voice was icy, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

    Quentin arched an eyebrow, his expression dripping with disdain. "You''re just a broke nobody. What makes you think you''re too good for Kali?"

    He reached into his bag, pulled out several thick wads of cash, and hurled them at Sebastian.

    "Is this enough for you to keep herpany for the night?"

    The bills hit Sebastian square on. His fists clenched at his sides, the anger simmering in his eyes growing colder and darker.

    But remembering who these people were, Sebastian forced himself to swallow his pride. He walked over to the serving cart, set their dishes down beside them, and said with barely contained emotion, "Here''s your food."

    Then he turned and walked away.

    Quentin scoffed, kicking at the ground in frustration. "Act all high and mighty now ¡ªyou''lle crawling back soon enough."

    After leaving the table, Sebastian found the restaurant manager and asked to be reassigned from that group. The manager refused tly.

    Sebastian guessed the manager had probably been bribed, but he didn''t push it.

    Halfway through her meal, Citrine suddenly heard a sharp cry behind her, even through her headphones. She yanked them off and turned to look.

    A young male server in the restaurant''s uniform had slipped and fallen, the steaming hot broth from a pot sshing all over his chest and arms. He was doubled over in pain, unable to straighten up.

    Everyone at the table had jumped back, keeping a safe distance-no one made a move to help.

    Citrine was about to shout at them when she caught sight of the two people sitting at the center of themotion.

    Theo and Kali Glenwood.

    Just her luck. The two people she despised most.

    But ncing at the man writhing on the floor, Citrine shot the siblings a long, hard look before shifting her gaze away.

    She strode over and helped the fallen server up, only then realizing who it was. "Sebastian?" Citrine stared in surprise.

    He looked equally shocked. "What are you doing here?"

    But Citrine''s eyes had alreadynded on the angry red burns on his arm. Her expression hardened, her voice brooking no argument. "Don''t say anything. Let me take care of this."

    Sebastian hesitated for a split second, but the searing pain across his body kept him silent. He just looked at her, trusting her to take charge.

    Citrine hurried back to her table and grabbed two bottles of water.

    She twisted one open and poured it over Sebastian''s arm.

    Noticing the burns on his stomach, she didn''t hesitate-lifting his shirt, she found the worst of it not on his chest, but across his lower abdomen. Without a word, she opened the second bottle and poured cool water over the angry, scalded skin.

 Chapter 91

    Cool water trickled down Sebastian''s stomach, making his whole body tense up in an instant.

    He opened his mouth to stop Citrine, but she pulled her hand back before he could say a word, leaving him with a strange, indescribable sense of loss.

    "Come with me to the kitchen," she said, grabbing his uninjured hand and tugging him along before he could protest.

    "Hurry. You need to get that burn under cold water," Citrine insisted. She turned on the faucet, lifted his arm, and held the burned patch under the running water. Only when she was sure enough time had passed did she let go.

    "I saw you burned your stomach. Are you sure you didn''t get burned anywhere else?" Citrine asked, her fingertip gently tapping the red mark as she studied it seriously.

    Sebastian''s face turned scarlet, though he wasn''t even sure why. "No, it''s-It''s nothing. I''m fine, really. I can handle it myself," he stammered.

    Citrine just looked at him with that calm, unfazed expression of hers, while Sebastian silently cursed himself for being ridiculous.

    Feeling awkward, he scratched his head and muttered, "Why don''t you wait outside?"

    Citrine thought he was acting a little odd-actually, kind of cutepared to his usual self-but she didn''t dwell on it. She simply stepped out of the kitchen as he''d asked.

    Left alone, Sebastian quickly ran some cold water over his stomach to wash the burn. He didn''t go out right away; instead, he waited until the flush in his ears faded, then finallyposed himself and strode back out.

    By the time he rejoined Citrine, he''d put his usual mask back on: gentle, polite, but always holding the world at arm''s length.

    "Let''s go to the hospital," Citrine said as soon as she saw him, reaching for his hand.

    Sebastian flinched at her soft touch, caught off guard for a second. But when he remembered she was just a kid, he didn''t pull away. Instead, he tried to reason with her, "I can''t just leave. I''m still on the clock."

    "Oh,e on. You need to see a doctor," Citrine insisted, tugging him again. But no matter how hard she tried, Sebastian barely budged.

    He ruffled her hair with augh. "Don''t be silly."

    Citrine let out an exasperated snort. "Silly? You''ve burned yourself and you''re still worried about work! Can''t you be a little more sensible?" Her voice rose involuntarily. She was usually easygoing, but something about his stubbornness made her genuinely annoyed.

    Still, she reminded herself that this man would one day be the most powerful businessman in Crestwood, so she forced herself to swallow her anger.

    "Since when did you be the one lecturing me?" Sebastian raised his

    eyebrows, genuinely surprised. No one had ever called him irresponsible before- especially not a kid.

    Citrine shot him a re. "You deserved it."

    It was the first time he''d seen her pretty face twisted with something close to

    anger, and it took him aback.

    Was she really mad?

    He asked, uncertain, "Are you angry with me?"

    "Juste with me." Citrine''s tone was cool and t, impossible to read.

    She''d lost all patience. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and marched out, thinking, If he doesn''t follow, that''s his problem.

    Sebastian hesitated, then gave in. He couldn''t even say why, but somehow, every time he ran into her, he ended up doing things that made no sense for him.

    Last time, it was only their third meeting, but when he saw she was upset, he''d impulsively taken the day off to cheer her up. Now, seeing her genuinely angry, he actually felt nervous. In the end, he followed her out the door.

 Chapter 92

    Although they''d only met a handful of times, Sebastian couldn''t help butugh at himself for looking so pitiful.

    Citrine, walking ahead, heard his stifled chuckle and stopped in her tracks.

    "What''s so funny?" she asked, turning to Sebastian with a puzzled expression.

    "You look kind of cute when you''re annoyed," Sebastian replied, and for reasons he couldn''t exin, he felt unexpectedly cheerful.

    "I''m not annoyed," Citrine mumbled, her voice shrinking as she remembered her own reaction just moments ago. She sounded less sure of herself.

    Sebastian grinned, teasing, "Really? You had me scared for a second there."

    Citrine, taking his words at face value, grew a little embarrassed.

    But after a moment''s thought, she decided she hadn''t done anything wrong. She shifted the me right back to him. "Well, I don''t usually act like that. You were just being impossible."

    "Alright, alright, it''s my fault," Sebastian said, still amused. Somehow, the burns stinging his arm and stomach didn''t hurt quite as much anymore.

    Soon enough, they arrived at the clinic.

    "Is that a burn?" The female doctor immediately noticed the angry red mark on Sebastian''s arm.

    Citrine nodded and named a specific burn ointment. The doctor quickly fetched it from behind the counter.

    She nced at Citrine, her voice warm with praise. "You certainly know your stuff, youngdy. That ointment''s a specialty-we have it shipped in from out of town, costs a small fortune, but it works wonders. You won''t find it at just any pharmacy."

    Citrine shrugged modestly. "I just heard about it from someone."

    Privately, she thought: Of course it works¡ªit''s from my ownpany.

    As they were about to leave, the doctor called after them. Citrine turned and met her gentle gaze.

    "Sweetheart, just a heads up-that ointment stings when you put it on. Be gentle with your boyfriend, alright?"

    At the word "boyfriend," Sebastian''s ears instantly flushed red.

    He opened his mouth to protest, but Citrine beat him to it. "He''s not my boyfriend," she said calmly.

    Her eyes were steady, her face impassive, as if she were making a solemn deration before a jury.

    Sebastian pressed his lips together, a flicker of disappointment crossing his eyes before he could hide it.

    "Oh! My mistake, I''m so sorry," the doctor apologized, looking genuinely surprised ¡ªand just a little regretful¡ªthat these two attractive young people weren''t actually a couple.

    Once they''d bought the ointment, Citrine grabbed Sebastian by the arm and hurried him out of the pharmacy.

    Outside, neither of them mentioned what had just happened.

    They walked in silence for a while, then found a quiet bench tucked away from the main path and sat down.

    Citrine hadn''t forgotten about his injury. She reached for Sebastian''s arm without hesitation.

    "This might sting a little. Try to bear it," she warned.

    With that, she squeezed some ointment onto her fingertip and gently dabbed it across his burn, spreading it in careful, even strokes.

    Sebastian bit down hard, forcing himself to endure the pain. He hadn''t expected the ointment to burn so much, and more than once, he couldn''t help but let out a muffled grunt.

    Atst, she finished treating his arm.

    "Lift your shirt," Citrine said, her gaze dropping to his abdomen before ncing up at him, as if seeking his permission.

    Her look made him flush. He nced away, but obediently pulled up his shirt.

    Earlier, everything had been too rushed for Citrine to notice, but now she got a good look at the chiseled muscles of his stomach. He''d always looked slim in his clothes; she hadn''t expected the body of an athlete-practically a wild animal- hidden underneath. It was unexpectedly sexy.

    For a moment, Citrine felt self-conscious. She quickly applied the ointment, then tugged his shirt back down, a little flustered herself.

 Chapter 93

    Meanwhile, inside the restaurant, the mood at the table had soured to the point of suffocation.

    Kali kept reying the image of that girl in her mind, her eyes growing red as she clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white.

    Just then, one of the guys nearby spoke up.

    "Bro, isn''t that the same girl who called the cops on us the other night?"

    "I know," Theo replied, eyes narrowing, his tone icy.

    After all, she''d humiliated him at the g-how could he possibly forget her?

    The memory of that girl leading Sebastian away kept reying in his head, needling him with an inexplicable frustration.

    The more he dwelled on it, the more it grated on him.

    Kali, overhearing their exchange, looked surprised. "Theo, you know that girl?"

    "How could I not? She made Theo lose face in front of everyone," Quentin cut in, unable to contain himself. He sounded resentful, and with good reason-he''d been hauled off to the station that night too, which was hardly something he wanted to remember.

    Like Theo, Quentin had never experienced such public humiliation before.

    "If it hadn''t been for that brat, we never would''ve ended up at the police station."

    Kali blinked, confused. "Police station?"

    Quentin nodded. "Yeah. We ran into Sebastian at the g and were about to teach him a lesson. That girl barged in and wrecked everything."

    "You mean she was with Sebastian that night, too?" Kali''s voice faltered. She''d done her homework-Sebastian never had girls around him.

    Seeing her interest, Quentin dly spilled the whole story.

    Kali''s gaze slid over to Theo, her eyes bright with urgency. "Theo, do you know which family she''s from in Havencrest?"

    Theo was the undisputed prince of Crestwood, known for never letting a slight go unanswered. Especially after being bested by that girl, it was only natural to expect he''d have already dug up every detail about her background, ready to make her life hell.

    Kali watched him, waiting for his answer, her faith in him absolute.

    After a long pause, Theo finally parted his lips and said, almost dismissively, "I don''t know."

    Kali felt a chill run through her.

    She''d grown up with Theo-no one knew him better. If he said nothing, it meant he had no intention of making trouble for that girl.

    Kali pressed her lips together, forcing a casual smile. "You''ve never taken a hit like this before, Theo."

    Her lighthearted jab made Quentin frown.

    Even easy-going Quentin sensed something was off. He shot Theo a disgruntled look. "What''s with you, man? This isn''t like you."

    "If you ask me, that brat deserves a lesson. Someone needs to put her in her ce."

    "She''s just a kid," Theo snapped, his eyes shing as he red at him.

    Quentin shrugged, undeterred. "So what? Some kids need to be taught a lesson."

    "Besides, she had the nerve to go after Sebastian-Kali, aren''t you going to do something about that?"

    "So what do you want me to do?" Theo sounded irritable, grinding his cigarette into the ashtray.

    Quentin just grinned, saying nothing, though the mischievous glint in his eyes spoke volumes.

    ***

    The next morning, Weston Carmichael finally woke up.

    The entire Carmichael n had gathered at the hospital. As Weston opened his eyes, he slowly scanned everyone in the room.

    "Dad, what are you looking for? Try some soup first." Salome Carmichael offered him a steaming bowl.

    Weston ignored her, letting out a cold huff.

    Regina, remembering what she''d seen trending online the night before, felt her expression darken.

    Damn that Citrine. Always desperate for attention.

 Chapter 94

    Regina was seething inside, clenching her teeth in frustration, but she had no choice but to keep it to herself.

    "Aunt, let me do it," she said, forcing a polite smile as she approached and took the bowl of soup from Salome''s hands.

    Sitting skillfully at the edge of the old man''s bed, Regina coaxed him gently, "Grandpa, why don''t you try a little soup first?"

    After a moment, she continued softly, "Please don''t be upset. It''s Sunday, so maybe Citrine just overslept. I''m sure she didn''t mean to miss your visit."

    "She just doesn''t want to see me," the old man-Weston-huffed, but there was no real anger in his voice.

    He might have been annoyed, but remembering that girl had once saved his life, he let the matter drop.

    Regina''s words, however, made Raymond''s expression darken. He shot her a cold, warning look, his tone icy enough to chill the air. "Regina, have you forgotten what I told youst time?"

    The threat in his voice was clear, and everyone in the room picked up on it.

    Regina felt a shiver run down her spine under his gaze. She looked at him nervously. "N-no, I haven''t forgotten."

    Raymond was the one calling the shots in the Carmichael family now. Regina hated him with every fiber of her being, but she didn''t dare cross him. Raymond had little affection even for his own family, let alone the two of them, who were only adopted by the Carmichaels.

    Raymond''s eyes stayed cold as he looked at her, his mind already set: these two had to go.

    Vicente and Regina, the brother and sister, had always acted above their station -emboldened by Weston''s tant favoritism. He treated them better than his own blood, fueling their ambition and giving them ideas well beyond their ce.

    The rest of the Carmichaels regarded the siblings as little more than court jesters -nobody took them seriously.

    Weston nced at Regina but, this time, didn''t speak up for her.

    He spoiled Vicente and Regina, but he wasn''t blind to their ws.

    After the others had left the hospital room, Weston turned to Raymond in a low voice. "What about her?"

    "Citrine?" Raymond was caught off guard for a second.

    Weston nodded, albeit reluctantly.

    "She doesn''t want toe," Raymond said tly. Thinking of the old man''s attitude toward Citrine, his voice grew colder. "Besides, you never liked her anyway her staying away just keeps her out of your sight."

    Weston gave a disgruntled snort, clearly ufortable. "When did I ever say I didn''t like her?" The old man red, stubborn as ever.

    "Are you really going to y the victim now?" Raymond almostughed, surprised

    by this side of his father-it was the first time he''d seen the old man act so unreasonable.

    But he quickly understood what was really going on.

    With a sigh, Raymond said, "Dad, when Citrine first came back, you refused to acknowledge her. Now you''ve changed your mind, but she might not be so quick to ept you."

    Raymond knew his daughter well.

    She might seem gentle, but once she made up her mind, she was impossible to sway. She always responded to others exactly as they treated her-she didn''t even indulge him, her own father, let alone a grandfather who had once rejected her.

    That thought weighed heavily on Raymond''s heart.

    He said coldly, "When I first met Citrine, I didn''t want to acknowledge her either, because she never wanted to ept me. Even now, she''s never called me ''Dad''." The memory stung more than he wanted to admit.

    That girl could really hold a grudge. If you left a bad impression on her the first time, it was nearly impossible to win her over again.

    Even now, he couldn''t honestly say how much he really mattered to Citrine.

 Chapter 95

    It was Monday, and the family''s driver happened to be off. Raymond was still at the hospital, and Citrine couldn''t be bothered to trouble him, so she decided to walk home.

    She was just passing through the alley behind her school when, out of nowhere, the world spun and went dark. Her knees buckled, and she felt herself hit the ground-hard.

    Somewhere in the haze, she heard the rumble of a van''s engine. That was all the confirmation she needed: she''d been kidnapped.

    Citrine forced herself to stay calm, drawing in a shaky breath before speaking up. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?"

    Silence. Not a word in response.

    She tried again. "Who are you?"

    Still no answer.

    She switched tactics, aiming for a negotiating tone. "Look, if it''s money you''re after, name your price. I can pay whatever you want. Just let me go."

    This time, a man''s voice snapped at her, harsh and impatient. "Shut it. Say another word and I''ll cut your tongue out."

    He didn''t sound like he was bluffing.

    Citrine''s heart dropped. She pressed her lips together and went silent. Survival came first.

    She forced herself to stay quiet, mind racing through everything that had happened recently. Slowly, a theory took shape, and the icy fear gripping her chest loosened, if only a little.

    If it was who she thought, then at worst, this was payback-revenge, maybe some pain but probably not a death sentence.

    With that in mind, Citrine squeezed her eyes shut inside the rough bup sack. However long this wouldst, she needed her strength, so she tried to rest.

    She must have dozed for half an hour.

    When Citrine woke again, she found herself staring up at a dazzling crystal chandelier. She jolted fully awake and sprang to her feet.

    A quick scan of the room told her she was in some kind of upscale karaoke lounge. The ce looked expensive.

    As soon as she stood, her gaze met a man''s eyes, lounging on the leather sofa. Not Theo. That caught her off guard.

    It was the guy she''d seen a couple of days ago at the pizza ce one of Theo''s friends, she guessed.

    Citrine didn''t know what to make of the situation, so she kept quiet, waiting for him to speak.

    "What''s your name?" Quentin lifted his eyelidszily, crossing his legs as if he had all the time in the world. He clearly didn''t see her as a threat.

    Instead of answering, Citrine shot back, "Who are you? I don''t know you."

    She couldn''t help being curious now.

    She''d never seen him in her previous life, never crossed his path. She was sure she''d done nothing to provoke him. So why go to all this trouble to kidnap her?

    Quentin let out a short, incredulousugh. "You''re a cheeky little brat, aren''t you? Maybe you should take a good look at your situation and just answer my question."

    Citrine met his gaze, voice steady. "And if I don''t?"

    "I''ve got plenty of ways to deal with you," Quentin sneered.

    She narrowed her eyes, letting a flicker of genuine fear show. "We''ve never met before. I''ve never done anything to you."

    Her eyes were wide and clear, like a startled fawn''s-big, bright, and shimmering with unshed tears. One more push, and it looked like she might break down.

    With her delicate features, the effect was almost heartbreakingly pitiful.

    Quentin felt a sudden wave of irritation and snapped, "Enough with the waterworks! You make it sound like I''m some kind of monster."

    "But I''m not crying. And you are bullying me," Citrine replied softly, her voice trembling just enough to make her seem even more vulnerable.

    "Shut up." Quentin was caught off guard, left fuming and speechless.

 Chapter 96

    He red at Citrine, practically grinding his teeth. "You little brat. Have you already forgotten how you got Theo and me thrown in jailst time?"

    His reputation had been utterly trashed at that party, and Quentin had be aughingstock among his friends for weeks afterward.

    He''d lost face, lost his dignity-thanks to this infuriating girl.

    "But that was ages ago, and you''re both out now, aren''t you?" Citrine watched him calmly, though a flicker of doubt crossed her mind.

    Logically, if this was about getting arrested, it would make more sense for Theo toe after her. She knew exactly how Theo''s temper worked-he never let a grudge go unpunished. If he''d wanted revenge, he would have acted immediately, not waited until now.

    No, Citrine was certain Quentin wasn''t here just because she''d called the cops.

    "You think it''s that simple? You made us a joke, and now you just shrug it off?" Quentin sneered.

    "So what do you want, then?"

    He paused, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Unless you apologize and post a video online clearing my name, I''m not letting this go."

    "In your dreams." Citrine''s eyes grew cold.

    Quentin figured she''d give in eventually, whether she liked it or not. For now, he changed the subject.

    "I want to know-what''s going on between you and Sebastian?"

    So that''s what this was really about. Suddenly, everything clicked into ce for Citrine.

    Last time, Kali had been obsessed with Sebastian, the unrequited love nearly driving her mad. She''d seen Citrine with Sebastian at that diner, and must have hated her ever since.

    Citrine hesitated for a second, then said, "We''re not close-we''ve just met a few times."

    She wasn''t afraid to cross the Glenwood family, but now wasn''t the time. She wasn''t about to pick a fight with them just because of Kali.

    Quentin clearly wasn''t buying it. "Met a few times and you''re already so cozy? Do you think I''m blind?"

    "If anyone got burned like that-even a stranger-I''d have helped," Citrine replied bluntly.

    "Quentin," she suddenly called, sliding closer to him on the couch, so near he could see the fine down on her cheeks.

    For a brief moment, he was struck by how beautiful she was. Her features hadn''t fully matured yet, but it was obvious she''d grow into a woman who would turn countless heads.

    The way she called his name-Quentin''s heart skipped a beat, an odd, unnamable feeling settling in his chest.

    He didn''t hate it.

    But then her clear voice cut through his reverie.

    "What are you, some kind of creep?" Quentin''s face darkened, just as she added, "I''m seventeen."

    "My school has a strict no-dating policy."

    Quentin was stunned, whatever retort he''d nned dying on his lips.

    Citrine kept her gaze on him. "There''s nothing between me and Sebastian. If you kidnapped me just to ask about that, well, now you know. So can I go home?"

    He realized, a bit toote, that he''d forgotten to check whether she was even of age. The thought made him awkward.

    Still, Quentin had never been one to admit defeat. Remembering how she''d called the cops, he grumbled, "Don''t forget, we''re not done with that little police stunt of yours."

    "So what do you want from me?" Citrine asked.

    He swallowed, then muttered, "If you apologize, I might just-maybe let it slide."

 Chapter 97

    Citrine hadn''t even opened her mouth when a huge ck dog suddenly burst through the doorway, charging straight at her.

    She froze, breath caught in her throat, cold sweat instantly soaking her back. She couldn''t move a muscle.

    Before she could react, the dog lunged at her, knocking her hard to the floor.

    "Ah!" Citrine yelped as her back hit the hardwood, pain shooting up her spine.

    The dog was massive, its jaws bared in a snarl, one heavy paw pressing down on her chest. Citrine could barely breathe, the weight crushing the air out of her lungs.

    The animal''s face loomed inches from her own, and panic wed at her throat. In a sh, memories from her nightmares snapped into focus-dark rooms, countless pairs of glowing green eyes staring her down, the rush of bodies, the stabbing pain as fangs tore through flesh. The terror she''d felt before, the cold agony of being bitten, washed over her again. Every drop of blood in her body seemed to freeze.

    "Get off!" Citrine''s voice was icy as she red at the dog. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a fruit knife lying in the basket on the table.

    Without thinking, she stretched out desperately, grabbed the knife, and swung it hard at the animal.

    But a man''s cold, sharp voice yanked her back to reality.

    "What are you doing?" Quentin barked, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back. His words were clipped, every syble deliberate.

    "Biscuit didn''t mean any harm. Do you really need to freak out like this?"

    "You almost hurt Biscuit just now. What''s wrong with you?" He shot her a wary look, shielding the dog behind him.

    Citrine''s gaze chilled.

    She arched an eyebrow. "And you don''t think it''s cruel to let your mutt attack people?"

    Quentin faltered, guilt flickering across his face as he remembered his original n. "You didn''t have to grab a knife, though. What if you''d hurt him?"

    "And what if your dog had hurt me, and I didn''t have anything to defend myself?" Citrine shot back, her eyes cold and edged with a sh of disgust.

    Quentin had no answer for that.

    He scratched his head awkwardly, mumbling, "He just looks scary, he''d never actually bite anyone."

    "I''m going home," Citrine said tly. She wanted nothing more than to leave that ce behind.

    Quentin saw the look on her face and realized just how shaken she was; he didn''t try to stop her.

    After she left, Quentin''s frustration boiled over. He kicked a chair across the room, sending it skittering into the wall.

    "Who the hell let Biscuit out just now?" he snapped at the others in the room.

    Someone piped up nervously, "Sir, Biscuit slipped his leash and ran in. We tried to stop him, but he was too fast."

    Quentin had wanted to give Citrine a scare, but seeing her so genuinely frightened¡ªso fragile-had made him rethink it. He hadn''t expected Biscuit to burst in on his own, let alone terrify her.

    Remembering the look of disgust she''d given him as she''d left, Quentin felt a wave of irritation.

    Later that night, he met up with his buddies, hoping a few drinks would clear his head. But he''d barely been there ten minutes when his phone rang¡ªa call from his bodyguard.

    "Sir, the dog''s gone."

    Quentin cursed loudly, then stormed out to search for Biscuit.

    Meanwhile, Citrine had already arrived home.

    To her surprise, the ck dog had somehow followed her.

    She''d barely stepped out of the cab when she spotted Biscuit sitting at the gate of

    her house, tail thumping against the driveway.

    What on earth? How had that man''s dog tracked her all the way here?

    Citrine figured if Biscuit could follow her, he could probably find his way home,

    too. She decided not to worry about it, and headed inside.

 Chapter 98

    She didn''t realize what had happened until the next morning when Wilma mentioned it over breakfast.

    "That dog stayed outside all night?" Citrine asked in disbelief.

    Wilma nodded. "Yeah, just sat there under that old tree. Didn''t even bark."

    After finishing her meal, Citrine stuffed some jerky into her pocket and headed outside.

    Sure enough, the ck dog was still sitting by the front door. As soon as it saw her, its tail started wagging furiously.

    Citrine had never liked dogs, and herst encounter with this one-when it jumped on her had left her with more than a few scars, both physical and mental.

    She bent down, grabbed a smooth stone from the garden, and tossed it at the dog, trying to look as fierce as possible. "Go away!"

    The stone hit the dog, but it didn''t budge an inch.

    Realizing that chasing it off with rocks was pointless, Citrine slowly edged closer, eyes fixed on its every move.

    When she was about six feet away, she pulled a piece of beef jerky from her pocket and tossed it to the dog.

    The ck dog leapt forward and snatched the treat right out of the air.

    Watching it tear into the jerky with its jaws, Citrine couldn''t help but take a few steps back, unsettled by the feral look in its eyes.

    "If you''ve eaten my food, you''d better not hang around my house," she muttered under her breath.

    Then she threw another piece of jerky farther down the driveway. Once the dog finished chewing, it trotted after the next treat.

    Seeing this worked, Citrine kept throwing jerky farther and farther, until the dog finally disappeared from sight. Only then did she head back inside.

    She thought that was the end of it. But the next morning, on her way to school, Citrine noticed the ck dog trailing behind her. Somehow, it even managed to sneak onto campus-she still had no idea how it got past the gates.

    All day, no matter where she went, the dog followed. Everyone just assumed it was hers; no matter how many times she tried to exin otherwise, nobody believed her.

    By thest period-PE ss the gym teacher pulled her aside.

    "Citrine, I need you to take your dog home. There are a lot of students out here, and if it bites someone, you''ll be responsible," he said kindly but firmly.

    "Sir, this isn''t my dog." Citrine had lost count of how many times she''d had to say that. She sighed in exasperation.

    The teacher didn''t look convinced. "If it''s not yours, why does it keep following you?"

    Citrine gave up trying to exin. What was the point?

    Still, the dog was only here because of her. She finally relented. "Okay, I''ll take him away right now."

    Approaching cautiously, she inched closer to the ck dog.

    "I''m going to put your leash on, so please, don''t bite me," she murmured.

    The dog barked twice.

    "I''ll take that as a yes," Citrine said, summoning her courage as she reached out to pat its head.

    The dog barked again and rubbed against her hand, making Citrine jerk her arm back in rm.

    But she could feel it wasn''t hostile-finally, she rxed a little. She picked up the leash dangling from the dog''s cor and held it tight, even as she kept a wary eye on its every move, ready to jump away if it so much as twitched.

    Citrine led the dog out of the school gates.

    She stopped by a corner store, bought a sausage, and found a quiet bench. Sitting down, she peeled open the package and fed the sausage to the ck dog. "Sit," she said, motioning downward with her hand.

    To her surprise, the dog immediately sat, wagging its tail as if it had been waiting for themand all along.

    Citrine hadn''t expected the dog to be so obedient. She couldn''t help but be a little impressed.

 Chapter 99

    Quentin had spent the entire night searching for his dog. It wasn''t until just a few minutes ago that the people he''d sent out finally brought back some news:

    someone had spotted arge ck dog, matching Biscuit''s exact description, right outside the gates of Havencrest Preparatory Academy.

    Without hesitation, Quentin jumped into his car and sped straight to the academy.

    As soon as he pulled up outside, he saw his dog-his precious Biscuit-sitting obediently at the feet of a schoolgirl in uniform. The girl was giving himmands: first, she had Biscuit sit; then she made him stand; then, unbelievably, she had him spin in circles for her.

    What really got under Quentin''s skin was how his beloved, pampered dog- usually aloof and dignified¡ªwas now being bossed around like a performing monkey.

    Fuming, Quentin marched over, teeth clenched and eyes zing. "Hey! You dog thief! Is it fun making a game out of my dog?"

    Citrine, startled by his voice, spun around. For a moment, the two just stared at each other in surprise.

    "You?" Quentin was genuinely taken aback.

    Citrine, dressed in her neat school uniform, looked every bit the picture-perfect heroine from aing-of-age novel. Quentin couldn''t help but nce at her a few times before finally remembering why he was here. "How did you manage to steal Biscuit?"

    Citrine frowned. "Steal? I didn''t steal anything. He insisted on following me."

    Quentin shook his head incredulously. "That''s impossible. Biscuit''s always so standoffish-he never pays any attention to strangers, let alone follows them around."

    He wasn''t lying. Normally, Biscuit would bark at any unfamiliar face, sometimes even scare people off. Honestly, he didn''t even pay much attention to Quentin himself most of the time.

    Ignoring Quentin, Citrine turned her attention to Biscuit. "Well, Biscuit, if you really wanted to follow me, bark twice."

    Quentin snorted. "You''re talking to him? He can''t possibly understand¡ª"

    But before he could finish, Biscuit let out two clear barks.

    Quentin''s jaw dropped. "You''ve got to be kidding me." Was his dog suddenly a genius or something?

    "Here, take your dog," Citrine said, unfazed by his reaction, and handed him the leash.

    She turned to leave, but before Quentin could even process what had happened, Biscuit wriggled out of his cor and bounded after her.

    Citrine had only taken a few steps when Biscuit grabbed hold of her pant leg, refusing to let go.

    "Let go," Citrine said, exasperated. Was this dog as crazy as its owner? Shrugging helplessly, she nced back at Quentin. "See? Your dog''s the one glued to me. I didn''t do anything."

    Quentin couldn''t help but let out a bitterugh. His own dog had never shown him this much affection; now, in front of his very eyes, Biscuit was acting as if Citrine were his real owner.

    "Biscuit,e here!" Quentin called, trying to soundmanding.

    Biscuit didn''t budge.

    "I said,e here!" Quentin''s frustration was palpable, his teeth grinding in irritation.

    Biscuit remained stubbornly in ce.

    Citrine watched the scene unfold, genuinely surprised. "Are you sure this is your dog?" she asked, for she''d never seen a pet ignore its owner sopletely.

    "Of course he is," Quentin replied, ring at Biscuit with wounded pride.

    Citrine, still trying to free her pant leg, crouched down and gently pulled it from Biscuit''s mouth. "Let go."

    At hermand, Biscuit immediately released his grip.

    Quentin was at a loss for words. "What did you do to my dog? Why does he listen

    to you and not to me? I''m supposed to be his owner."

    "I have no idea," Citrine said, looking innocent as ever.

    She slipped the leash back over Biscuit''s head and handed it to Quentin once more.

 Chapter 100

    "Hold it tight and keep it away from me. If it causes trouble again, I''ll have to see what dog stew tastes like." Citrine''s voice grew even colder as she spoke.

    Damn brat.

    This time, Quentin gripped the leash firmly, making sure the dog couldn''t follow her.

    But the mutt just wouldn''t settle down, barking insistently in the direction Citrine

    had gone.

    "Quiet, you ungrateful mutt. Do you even know who your real owner is?" Quentin mped his hand over the dog''s snout.

    "She''s met you once. What did she give you that''s got you so worked up?"

    When the barking finally stopped, Quentin tugged gently on the dog''s ear and sat down right where Citrine had been moments ago. Mimicking her, he tried to give Biscuit somemands.

    "Sit." He gestured the way Citrine had.

    Biscuit didn''t budge.

    "Spin."

    Still nothing.

    "Oh,e on," Quentin muttered, exasperated. "Traitor."

    Ever since Citrine had suggested hypnotherapy, Raymond had been trying to get in touch with Dr. Yates.

    At first, scheduling an appointment proved difficult-Yates kept politely refusing. But as soon as Raymond casually mentioned that Citrine had referred him, Yates'' attitude changed in a heartbeat, faster than flipping a page. Suddenly, he was more than willing to make time.

    As luck would have it, Yates was currently in Havencrest, so they arranged to meet at his office there.

    Given that Citrine had sent him, Yates clearly took the case seriously, clearing his entire afternoon schedule just for Raymond.

    Yates extended a hand in greeting. "Good afternoon, Mr. Carmichael."

    "Dr. Cooper, nice to meet you."

    Sizing Raymond up, Yates brought up Citrine right away. "If Citrine sent you, I assume you''re someone important to her."

    Raymond replied, "And you must be someone she trusts." After all, it wasn''t every

    day someone was willing to consult a hypnotherapist.

    Neither man was much for small talk, so after a few polite words, Raymond exined his situation.

    Yates listened, clearly taken aback.

    His expression grew serious. "I''ve never encountered a case quite like yours. I''d like to try a few sessions of deep hypnosis and see how you respond."

    "That''s fine." Raymond''s condition had persisted for years. Since medicine hadn''t offered any answers, maybe the problem was rooted in his mind.

    "Mr. Carmichael, please lie down here." Yates led the way to the treatment couch. Raymondplied, settling onto the padded surface.

    "Put these headphones on." Yates slipped a pair over his ears.

    "Now, focus on the clock. Let yourself rx, bit by bit. Picture yourself in a wide, open meadow¡ªjust you and your daughter. She keeps calling you, ''Dad... Dad...'' You''re both happy. There''s nothing else in the world..."

    Raymond''s vision blurred as he let his eyes drift closed, sinking into the imagined expanse of grasnd.

    Here, Citrine looked at him with absolute trust-none of the distance or suspicion she showed in real life. She called him "Dad" over and over, as if he was the most important person in her world.

    For the first time in years, Raymond felt a profound sense of peace and happiness.

    Suddenly, the scene shifted.

    A young womany motionless in a hospital bed. The monitor''s line, once erratic with life, faded into a t line. In the next moment, a doctor entered and drew a white sheet over her.

    In that final second, Raymond saw the girl''s face clearly.

    "Citrine." He jerked awake, drenched in cold sweat, his eyes dark and haunted.

 Chapter 101

    On Friday, Citrine took a day off from work just to attend Kane''sunch event.

    Ever since the former Chase Group Holdings had been acquired and rebranded as CICI Group, thepany had quickly risen to the top of the industry, bing a powerhouse in just a matter of months.

    Naturally, CICI Group''sunch event attracted attention from all corners of the business world. Many industry leaders hade, eager to see what all the buzz was about.

    Even the Carmichael and Iverson families from Havencrest made an appearance.

    Representing the Carmichaels were Weston and Raymond, who strode in with their invitations and took seats in the prestigious second row.

    Behind them, Sawyer studied the two men before ncing down at his own invitation, a frown knitting his brows.

    "Dad, what''s with CICI Group? Why did they stick us way back here?" Jete''s voice was sharp with annoyance, her frustration barely concealed.

    She had always been the center of attention wherever Sawyer took her, but now she''d been relegated to a forgotten corner, and the slight stung.

    Sawyer''s expression darkened.

    While the Iversons couldn''t quite match the Carmichaels in influence, in Havencrest there was no one else who could evene close. For CICI Group to assign the Iversons to seats all the way back in the fifth row-it felt deliberate. Sawyer knew exactly what was going on.

    He summoned one of the event staff with a cold re. "Why is the Iverson family seated in the fifth row?" he demanded. "And why do the Carmichaels get the second?"

    The staff member apologized quickly. "I''m sorry, sir. I''m not sure. The seating was arranged by our boss personally."

    It was the first time Sawyer had ever been so openly slighted. He gave a dismissive snort and led a visibly disgruntled Jete to their seats in the fifth

    row.

    "Dad, CICI Group''s just some upstartpany. Who do they think they are, treating us like this? They clearly don''t respect the Iversons at all," Jete muttered angrily.

    Sawyer was just as irritated, but he cut her off before she could continue. "Watch what you say. CICI Group isn''t the old Chase family. If they keep this up, they could surpass us-and maybe even the Carmichaels-sooner than you think."

    Meanwhile, Weston and Raymond satfortably in the second row. For a while, it was just the two of them, until Xavier, the headmaster of Havencrest Preparatory Academy, took the seat beside them, followed by the director of Havencrest Prime Medical Center.

    ncing ahead, they noticed that the front row was upied by none other than the president of the Havencrest Medical Research Council and his team-figures

    so influential that even vast wealth couldn''t usually buy an introduction.

    How had CICI Group managed to bring these people together?

    Weston and Raymond exchanged a look, both visibly impressed.

    Weston leaned in and whispered, "CICI Group''s ying in the big leagues now. They''ve managed to get all of Havencrest''s heavyweights under one roof."

    "I''d like to meet their boss myself," Raymond replied with a rare note of admiration. Weston could tell from his father''s tone that the person behind this must be truly remarkable.

    Just then, something even more surprising happened. Carlotta, representing CICI Group, walked in with a young woman by her side, chatting andughing as they made their way down the aisle.

    Wait-that was Citrine.

    Though their conversation seemed casual, it was easy to see that Carlotta treated Citrine with an unusual degree of respect.

    As the two women passed, Raymond nodded in greeting to Citrine, who smiled

    back at him. She didn''t even spare Weston a nce.

    Weston felt a flicker of irritation and looked away, unwilling to dwell on it.

    After a moment, he leaned closer to Raymond, lowering his voice. "What''s going on? How does she know CICI Group''s representative?"

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    "I have no idea," Raymond said, his eyes fixed on the girl, gaze growing darker with confusion.

    He never would have imagined that Citrine-a high school student-could somehow be connected to the representative of the CICI Group.

    But what happened next stunned him even more. Citrine walked straight to the very center seat in the front row. From where Raymond and Weston sat behind her, they could see Citrine deep in conversation with the president of the Havencrest Medical Research Council.

    They couldn''t hear what was being said, but the genuine, warm smile on the president''s face was unmistakable.

    Soon, the host took the stage andunched into the prepared introduction: "Wee, everyone, to the inauguralunch event organized by CICI Group. I''d like to extend my heartfelt gratitude to you all..."

    As the host finished, Carlotta-the CICI Group''s representative-stepped up to introduce theirtest product, Kane.

    Standing under the spotlight, Carlotta pointed to the medical-grade Al robot, Kane, and began to exin its functions and uses. In that moment, an indescribable sense of pride welled up inside her.

    After all, she was just an ordinary university graduate. In a bustling metropolis like Havencrest, where advanced degrees were the norm, her own r¨¦sum¨¦ and academic background made it almost impossible tond a good job.

    Herst position was at a tinypany of about fifty people. The pay was terrible, and the boss-a lecherous old man-had tried and failed to harass her, then retaliated by making her work life miserable, until she finally had no choice but to quit.

    When she first met Citrine, Carlotta thought the young CEO was far too inexperienced, and she hadn''t had much hope for the job-she''d only stayed because the sry was decent.

    But after joining, she quickly realized this "teenage CEO" was a truly talented, sharp-minded leader. Citrine was patient with her mistakes, guiding her through setbacks and teaching her more than she''d learned anywhere else.

    Citrine gave herplete trust and the freedom to do her job, letting her reach her full potential.

    This productunch showed Carlotta just how much she was capable of achieving.

    In that moment, she felt deeply honored to be part of CICI Group-and even more grateful to have met Citrine.

    After the event, a group of executives gathered to chat.

    Someone remarked, "Looks like things are about to change in Havencrest."

    "I heard plenty of people have tried to dig up dirt on the boss behind CICI Group, but there''s still nothing about them online."

    "Did you see who showed up today? All the top dogs from Havencrest were here. That says a lot about how powerful CICI Group''s backers must be."

    ...

    When everything wrapped up, Citrine told Carlotta to head out first. She went to find Raymond on her own.

    When Raymond saw Citrine, he couldn''t hold back his curiosity any longer. "Citrine, what are you doing here?"

    Citrine paused, then answered after a moment, "A friend invited me." She wasn''t ready to reveal her identity just yet.

    Hearing that, Raymond didn''t press any further.

    Just then, Weston made a point of clearing his throat loudly.

    Citrine finally noticed the old man standing nearby.

    She gave him a cool nod, her expression unreadable. "Good evening, Weston." "You... What did you just call me?" Weston stared at her, nearly spluttering. "Weston. Is that a problem?" Citrine replied evenly. Since he''d never wanted to acknowledge her as family, she didn''t feel any need to call him "Grandfather." Weston opened his mouth, but for once, he was at a loss for words.

    Suddenly he remembered the time she''d saved him-back then, she''d called him "old man," too. Thinking of that, he felt a little better.

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    Raymond couldn''t help but find it amusing-Weston, usually so smooth-tongued, was left speechless for once. He also had to admit, Citrine was one gutsy kid.

    But the amusement faded quickly when he remembered that Citrine still refused to call him "Dad." A pang of disappointment welled up inside him.

    Just then, someone called out to Citrine from behind.

    "Citrine!" The man''s voice sounded urgent.

    As she turned, Citrine saw Sawyer approaching, Jete trailing behind him. Her brows knitted in irritation.

    "What are you doing here?" she demanded, taking a few steps back as if afraid he might contaminate her with whatever filth he carried.

    Sawyer''s expression soured, but after what he''d just witnessed, he couldn''t help himself. "Citrine, what''s your rtionship with the representative from CICI Group? You seemed pretty friendly with her just now, like you two were old friends."

    He looked at her, hope flickering in his eyes.

    "None of your damn business." Citrine''s voice was ice-cold, her patience gone. Sawyer stared at her, stunned. "How can you talk to me like that?"

    She met his gaze, unflinching. "I''ve cut all ties with the Iversons. Why should I keep pretending to look up to you?" The memory of how deferential she''d once been made her feel sick.

    Sawyer''s tone turned low, tinged with irritation. "Citrine, enough with the tantrum. That''s all in the past-do you really have to keep dragging it out?"

    "Bastard."

    Raymond stepped forward, yanking Citrine behind him. Without hesitation, hended a punch square on Sawyer''s jaw. "If you''ve lost your mind, Sawyer, go get yourself checked into a hospital. Don''te here and act crazy."

    The Iverson Group was tanking, and Sawyer hadn''t had a decent night''s sleep in weeks. With everything going wrong including Citrine''s hostility-something inside him finally snapped.

    He lunged at Raymond, wild with rage, swinging his fists at Raymond''s face again and again. "Who the hell do you think you are? Sure, you''re her biological father, but I raised her. If anyone deserves to be called her father, it''s me."

    "Father?" Jete echoed in disbelief, frozen by the scene in front of her.

    Citrine wasn''t supposed to be anyone special-just some nobody''s daughter. How could she be Raymond''s child?

    Why did this bitch get all the luck? Why not me?

    Jete red at Citrine, her face twisted with jealousy and spite.

    Citrine, by contrast, waspletely impassive. She just watched the chaos unfold, her expression unreadable.

    Sawyer''s words only made her want tough. The nerve he had to say something like that. Her voice was cial: "Sawyer, you''re thest person qualified to call yourself my father."

    Every word cut deep.

    Sawyer''s heart plummeted; his fists stilled in the air. At the same moment, Raymond drove a boot into Sawyer''s gut, sending him crashing to the floor.

    But Sawyer didn''t look at Raymond. Instead, his eyes shot to Citrine, disbelief etched on his face. "What did you say?"

    Citrine ignored him. She knew he''d heard her.

    She went on, voice steady as steel. "Sawyer, you may look like a kind man, but you''re colder and more ruthless than anyone I know. Your heart''s made of stone."

    "Because I''m adopted, you always held it against me. On one hand, you wanted me to get along with Jete so I could help her take over the Iverson Group. On the other, you were terrified I''dpete with her for the family''s inheritance, so you kept me away from anything to do with the business."

    "You''ve always yed favorites. To the extreme."

    Citrine stared Sawyer down, every wordnding like a knife.

 Chapter 104

    Sawyer''s face went deathly pale, shame flickering in his eyes as if someone had just exposed his deepest secret.

    He stayed silent.

    Citrine spoke again, her voice unwavering. "Yes, I''m ambitious. But I''ve always known I was adopted. Nothing in the Iverson family truly belongs to me, so I never once thought ofpeting with Jete. Still, you kept your guard up around me. You secretly handed Jete twenty-five percent of the shares."

    Her words were as cold as ice, stripping away thest pretense Sawyer had left.

    "So what? You can''t deny that I loved you, too." Sawyer''s protest was tinged with bitterness and unwillingness.

    "Loved me?" Citrine scoffed, her tone icy. "Don''t tter yourself. It''s disgusting."

    She didn''t give him a chance to recover. "You''re here today to talk business with the head of CICI Group, aren''t you? And you know exactly why you came looking for me first."

    With ruthless precision, she tore away thest shred of dignity Sawyer had tried to preserve.

    "You knew?" Sawyer looked up at her, stunned, unable to believe what he was hearing.

    He''d never paid much attention to Citrine. As a child and eventer, she''d never stood out in school or any other way¡ªat least, that''s what he believed. He''d forgotten that even the professors at Crestwood University used to call her a prodigy.

    Now, for the first time in years, he remembered. All this time, she''d been hiding her true abilities behind a mask of mediocrity.

    Citrine''s lips curled into a cold, humorless smile. Her voice was t and merciless, shattering whatever hope Sawyer had left. "Give it up, Sawyer. You''re not getting a deal with CICI Group. You can stop trying."

    There was no trace left of the daughter who once looked up to him-only

    indifference remained in Citrine''s eyes.

    Sawyer felt a sharp pain in his chest.

    Thinking of the Iverson family''s predicament, he forced himself to speak. "Are you really going to just stand by and watch the Iversons fall apart?"

    Citrine nodded without hesitation. "That''s right. The Iversons have brought this on themselves. Don''t even dream aboutnding a deal with CICI Group."

    The words had barely left her mouth when Jete burst out, ring at Citrine in front of everyone. "Well, aren''t you full of yourself, big sister? What makes you think the head of CICI Group would listen to you? Just because you say there''s no deal doesn''t mean there won''t be one. It''s not yourpany."

    "And in case you forgot, the Iverson Group is the second most powerful in Havencrest-right behind the Carmichaels. Do you really believe that your say-so decides who CICI does business with?"

    The truth, of course, was that CICI Group did belong to Citrine, and her word wasw-but she didn''t bother to say it out loud.

    Citrine only smiled, tilting her head. "Maybe I don''t get the final say, but why are you so sure CICI would pick the Iversons?"

    She continued, her tone almost yful. "The Iverson Group is drowning in scandals, barely keeping its head above water. What reason would CICI have to partner with you? What''s in it for them?"

    "Is it that the Carmichael Group doesn''t have enough financial muscle? Or is their business portfolio not diverse enough?"

    "Or maybe CICI''s just dying to work with apany teetering on bankruptcy? Please. CICI isn''t a charity, and they''re not in the business of losing money." Citrine gave a disdainfulugh.

    Jete''s face twisted with anger. "The Iverson Group is just going through a rough patch¡ªwe''ll get through it. And for the record, bankruptcy isn''t even on the table."

    Citrine arched an eyebrow, her voice light and almost teasing. "Is that so? Funny I heard this morning your cash flow has already dried up. And it sounds like the major shareholders are all moring to pull out."

    Sawyer''s expression changed instantly. "How do you know that?"

    He''d kept that information locked down tight-not a word had leaked, not even to Jete. How could Citrine possibly know?

    Citrine shrugged. "It wasn''t difficult to find out."

 Chapter 105

    Citrine watched quietly as Sawyer walked away, her long, darkshes casting shadows over the sadness in her eyes.

    Maybe, once upon a time, Sawyer had truly felt something for her, even though she was only his adopted daughter. But everything changed after that fire years ago. Since then, Sawyer had kept his distance, always a little wary around her. No bond, no matter how strong, could withstand suspicion for long. Over time, whatever affection he''d once had curdled into something colder, something... barely there.

    By now, whatever scraps of feeling Sawyer still held for her meant nothing¡ª especially when weighed against his own interests or his real daughter.

    Across the room, Weston''s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, his boomingughter ringing out over the crowd. He looked at Citrine with newfound admiration, his pride obvious.

    "Well now, that''s some spirit. You really are a true Carmichael."

    But Citrine didn''t seem the least bit grateful for his praise.

    She gave Weston a wry, almost mocking smile. "Funny. Not long ago, you wouldn''t even admit I was a Carmichael."

    Weston was caught off guard, sputtering for a moment before he finally managed to retort, "You¡ª! Why do you hold onto grudges like that, kid?"

    He''d never expected Citrine to call him out so bluntly. Not even a hint of courtesy ¡ªshe didn''t give him any chance to save face.

    Ignoring him entirely, Citrine turned to Raymond. "Weren''t you nning to talk with the CICI Group''s representative about a partnership?"

    Weston stood there, awkward and disgruntled, his face darkening with embarrassment.

    Raymond nced at his father, then focused on Citrine, surprise flickering in his expression. "How did you know I wanted to coborate with CICI Group?"

    He truly hadn''t expected Citrine to bring this up.

    The Carmichaels were the wealthiest family in Havencrest, their position unshakable. Even without a deal with CICI Group, they wouldn''t be at any disadvantage. In fact, CICI Group was quickly bing a seriouspetitor, and many believed The Carmichael Group and CICI Group were bound to be rivals rather than partners.

    But Citrine only smiled mysteriously. "Let''s just say I have my ways."

    Of course, the real reason was simple: she wanted to secure the Carmichaels as her own business partners.

    She was also making a gamble. If CICI Group proved strong enough, maybe The Carmichael Group would realize it made more sense to work together than to fight. After all, there was plenty of money to be made for both sides.

    A momentter, Citrine spoke up. "Why don''t I introduce you to CICI Group''s director?"

    "You''d really do that?" Raymond''s eyes widened, his expression a mix of surprise and something deeper.

    "Of course," she replied. Why wouldn''t she? It was a win-win for everyone.

    Raymond could tell Citrine and the CICI Group''s director had some kind of special connection. Still, he''d never considered using his daughter''s rtionship for business, and certainly hadn''t expected Citrine to offer.

    "Thank you, Citrine." Raymond nodded after a pause. He wasn''t the type to y coy; if his daughter wanted to help, he saw no reason to refuse such a generous gesture.

    Meanwhile, on the other side of the ballroom, Carlotta was surrounded by executives from all corners of the tech world. Each one was eager to pitch theirpany, desperate for a chance to work with CICI Group.

    Everyone knew that theunch of the Al robot Kane would cause a nationwide sensation. Every major techpany in Havencrest wanted a piece of the action.

    Carlotta moved gracefully among the crowd, her every word diplomatic and polite. But in truth, the twopanies CICI Group wanted to partner with had already been chosen by Citrine behind the scenes. The final decision was out of Carlotta''s hands.

    As Citrine led Raymond across the floor, they arrived just in time to see Carlotta at the center of the throng.

 Chapter 106

    The most attention-grabbing pair in the room was undoubtedly Sawyer and Jete.

    "Ms. Yarbrough, The Iverson Group has a strong foothold in Havencrest. I truly believe we''d be the best partner for CICI Group," Sawyer insisted, pushing his way to the front of the crowd to speak to Carlotta, his usual air of superiority nowhere to be found.

    Jete hovered just behind him, chiming in every so often to back him up.

    But at that moment, Carlotta''s gaze caught on something-or rather, someone¡ª across the room, and her entire expression softened into a genuine smile. It was a far cry from the polite, professional mask she wore with the rest of them.

    Everyone instinctively followed her line of sight.

    "Isn''t that President Carmichael?" someone whispered in surprise.

    Without hesitation, Carlotta slipped through the crowd and strode straight toward Citrine.

    The mood shifted instantly, a ripple of surprise and spection passing through the gathering.

    Sawyer and Jete were left standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, ignored and out of ce.

    Someone in the crowd, noticing Carlotta''s warm demeanor toward the young woman beside President Carmichael, whispered, "Who''s that girl? She seems awfully familiar with the CICI Group''s director."

    From a distance, they could see Carlotta smiling easily, looking far more rxed than she had a moment ago.

    Someone else recognized Citrine and spoke up, "That''s the same girl who was sitting in the front row this morning, chatting with the director of the Medical Research Council. She seemed pretty close with him too. She must be someone important."

    Sawyer and Jete listened to the murmurs, their surprise quickly giving way to growing frustration. Still, they had no choice but to stand their ground and wait.

    Jete clenched her jaw, cursing Citrine silently a thousand times over.

    The moment Carlotta spotted Citrine, she walked right over. "Citrine, what brings you here?"

    She couldn''t help but blush, remembering how Citrine must have seen her schmoozing awkwardly with the other representatives just moments ago.

    Citrine cleared her throat before answering, "President Carmichael is interested in working with CICI Group. I thought I''d introduce you."

    The faintest flicker of disappointment crossed Raymond''s face at her words. He could tell Citrine still didn''t acknowledge him as her father-otherwise, she wouldn''t be so formal, calling him "President Carmichael."

    Carlotta reached out her hand to greet him. "Hello, Carlotta."

    Seeing Raymond with Citrine caught Carlotta off guard. She''d always assumed The Carmichael Group would never be interested in working with CICI, and she''d even argued that point with Citrine. But now, seeing him here, she had to admit¡ª this young chairwoman really did have a knack for making things happen.

    And judging by howfortable they seemed with each other, Carlotta was starting to suspect Citrine and President Carmichael had a much closer rtionship than she''d thought.

    Looking around at all the influential people attending today''sunch, Carlotta couldn''t help but marvel at Citrine''s impressive connections. Joining CICI Group was, without a doubt, the best decision she''d ever made.

    Raymond shook Carlotta''s hand lightly and let go. "Nice to meet you, Carlotta. I''m Raymond."

    He got straight to the point. "I''m here to discuss a potential partnership. If you have a moment, could we find somewhere to talk?"

    "Of course. There''s a coffee shop downstairs," Carlotta replied, shooting a quick nce at Citrine.

    She never could have imagined she''d one day be negotiating with President Carmichael himself-the wealthiest man in Havencrest. Unbelievable. Her luck was almost too good to be true.

    Just as she finished speaking, an idea struck her. "Citrine, why don''t you join us?"

    The three were about to head out when Sawyer suddenly reappeared with Jete in tow.

    Sawyer hurried over, stepping in front of them with his arms outstretched, blocking their way. He looked directly at Carlotta, his tone deadly serious: "Ms. Yarbrough, you can''t choose The Carmichael Group."

 Chapter 107

    Ever since the Carmichael Group pulled out of their partnership with the Iverson Group, a wave of businesses¡ªeager not to offend the Carmichaels-followed suit and withdrew their investments. On top of that, the Carmichael Group had been openly and covertly undermining the Iversons at every turn. The Iverson family''s influence wasn''t what it used to be.

    Citrine hadn''t exaggerated; these days, it really was a long shot for the Iversons to secure a deal with CICI Group.

    But Sawyer wasn''t one to give up. The Iverson Group was the result of years of his hard work, and he was determined tond this partnership with CICI Group today, no matter what.

    "The Iverson family is your best choice," Sawyer announced, his voice ringing through the conference hall.

    Carlotta''s brow furrowed, her expression darkening.

    She turned to face Sawyer. "And why can''t I choose the Carmichael Group?"

    The rivalry between the Carmichaels and the Iversons had long since be open warfare, so Sawyer didn''t bother to hold back. He spoke his mind inly: "Right now, CICI Group is the Carmichaels'' biggest threat in Havencrest. How can you be sure the Carmichaels are genuinely interested in working with you? Aren''t you worried they''ll do to you what they did to Chase Group Holdings?"

    Carlotta had considered that possibility herself, but she trusted Citrine''s judgment even more; there had to be a reason for Citrine''s decision.

    Still, the Iverson Group''s relentless pursuit was starting to grate on her nerves. No wonder Citrine disliked them so much. Carlotta''s voice was cold. "That''s really not your concern."

    She continued, "Besides, the Iverson Group''s business has seen better days. What makes you think you''re our best option?"

    Sawyer leaned forward, undeterred. "I know the Iverson Group is struggling right now, but that''s precisely why we''re the safest choice. Unlike the Carmichaels, we pose no threat to CICI Group. You can count on us, and I assure you, if we partner up, the Iverson family is willing to give CICI Group an extra five percent of the profits. How does that sound?"

    He was certain he''d made his most tempting offer, confidence zing in his eyes.

    If Citrine hadn''t given her explicit instructions, Carlotta might have been swayed.

    But recalling Citrine''s utter distaste for the Iversons, Carlotta replied icily, "It doesn''t sound good at all."

    "At CICI Group, we only work with the best. We don''t settle."

    Offending Citrine-the young chairwoman-was a surefire way to kill any deal. Sawyer was dreaming if he thought otherwise.

    Without a moment''s hesitation, Carlotta crushed hisst hope. "And most importantly, our boss made it clear: No matter who we choose, it won''t be the Iverson family. You''re simply not qualified."

    She offered an apologetic frown, but there was not a hint of remorse in her eyes.

    "Why?" Sawyer''s smile froze as her words sank in, disbelief written across his face.

    "Our boss said the Iverson family is morally bankrupt," Carlotta dered, raising her voice on thosest two words for emphasis.

    A murmur rippled through the hall as people turned to stare at Sawyer. More than a few remembered the Iversons'' recent scandals online, trading uneasy nces.

    Sawyer''s face drained of color. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words

    came.

    Ignoring him, Carlotta addressed the crowd. "I''ve already found the right partner. Thank you all foring, but you''re free to go."

    With that, the remaining executives understood they were out of the running. Whether they felt slighted or thought the process unfair, nobody dared challenge CICI Group''s authority. One by one, they filed out of the hall-everyone except Sawyer and Jete, who remained rooted to the spot.

    Jete watched the scene unfold, her resentment toward Citrine growing with every passing moment.

    As the room emptied, Jete finally lost herposure.

    "Ms. Yarbrough, what exactly is your rtionship with Citrine?" The urgency in her voice made her forget just how rude and confrontational her question sounded.

 Chapter 108

    "Who raised such a rude child?" Carlotta finally noticed the girl standing beside Sawyer. The moment sheid eyes on her, she took an instant dislike-and the girl''s attitude certainly didn''t help. Carlotta didn''t bother to hide her irritation.

    Jete paled; only now did she realize how impolite she had just been.

    Sawyer''s face darkened. He immediately stepped in to apologize for Jete. "I''m sorry, Ms. Yarbrough. This is my daughter. She didn''t mean any offense."

    Jete, mortified by her mistake, quickly bowed her head. "I''m so sorry, Ms. Yarbrough. I was just in a rush. I didn''t mean to be disrespectful."

    Carlotta snorted. "Fine, I''ll let it slide this time. You''re just a kid-I won''t stoop to your level."

    But Jete wasn''t ready to give up. She pressed on, "Ms. Yarbrough, may I ask what your rtionship is with Citrine?"

    Carlotta frowned, inwardly cursing the girl for herck of tact.

    After a moment''s pause, though, Carlotta decided to answer. "We''re very close friends."

    No sooner had she spoken than Jete pushed further.

    "Ms. Yarbrough, I''d like to know¡ªdid you choose The Carmichael Group because Citrine is Raymond''s daughter? In other words, did you refuse to cooperate with The Iverson Group because of Citrine?"

    For a second, Carlotta wondered if she''d misheard. She didn''t have the faintest clue what was going on between the Carmichaels, the Iversons, and Citrine. All she could think about was that bombshell Jete had just dropped.

    Citrine is Raymond''s daughter? Carlotta was stunned.

    "Citrine?" She turned to look at her friend in disbelief, suddenly at a loss for how to handle the situation.

    Citrine didn''t meet her gaze. Instead, she took over the conversation smoothly. "So what if I am? My decision is Carlotta''s decision. I said it before-CICI Group would never, under any circumstances, choose the Iverson family."

    Since Citrine didn''t deny it, Carlotta realized Jete must be telling the truth.

    The chairwoman of CICI Group was actually the daughter of The Carmichael Group''s CEO? That was explosive news.

    From the looks of it, the CEO of The Carmichael Group probably had no idea that the powerhouse behind CICI Group was his own daughter.

    Oh my God, Carlotta thought, this was the juiciest gossip she''d heard in ages.

    The Carmichaels were already obscenely wealthy, but their little heiress was out here building a business empire of her own-one that was every bit as impressive as her family''s legacy. Talk about ambition.

    While the other socialites were busy shopping and brunching, the Carmichael princess was running a corporation. Not even the most outrageous novel would dare write a plot like this.

    As Citrine finished speaking, Jete''s face went even paler. She and Sawyer both nced at Carlotta, as if searching for confirmation.

    Carlotta snapped out of her daze and immediately jumped in to back Citrine up. "That''s right. Citrine''s decision is my decision. CICI Group can pick anyone-but we''ll never pick the Iversons." Of course, Citrine was her boss.

    Sawyer could only stare at his daughter, who was openly defying him, and felt a storm of emotions he could barely name.

    "Citrine, do you really hate the Iverson family so much? You''d rather see us go bankrupt?"

    He just didn''t get it. Sure, he''d misunderstood her once, but he''d apologized. How could she hold such a grudge? Was she really willing to risk thepany''s future out of spite?

    He''d been the one to raise her for over a decade-why was she so determined to stand with Raymond?

    But what Citrine said next chilled Sawyer to the bone, confirming just how deep her hatred for the Iversons ran.

    Her voice was as cold as ice. "That''s right. I''d be thrilled if the Iverson family went bankrupt."

 Chapter 109

    The Carmichael Group was CICI Group''s ideal partner, and both Raymond and Carlotta knew it all too well. With Carlotta also aware of Citrine''s true identity, it took them barely five minutes to hammer out the details and seal the deal.

    Citrine, however, didn''t participate in the negotiations. Propping her head on her hand, she drifted off, lost in thought over whether she should buy out the Iverson family if their business went under. She was so absorbed that she didn''t even notice the meeting had ended until Raymond called her name several times, snapping her back to reality.

    Noticing the furrow in her brow, Raymond asked, "What''s on your mind?"

    She looked at him, her tone calm. "I was thinking about the Iverson family."

    Raymond paused, surprised. Citrine was young, and even if she''d cut ties with the Iversons, he imagined she couldn''t be entirely indifferent. As he was searching forforting words, she continued, "I''m wondering when the Iverson family will finally go bankrupt."

    Raymond blinked, taken aback. "Do you really want to see them go under?" The bitterness in her voice hinted at deep resentment.

    She met his gaze and answered earnestly, "Absolutely." The Iversons''pany, she reasoned, would make a perfect branch office for CICI Group in Havencrest.

    But after a moment, she added, "But now''s not the time." If they went bankrupt now, it would be letting them off too easily.

    Raymond''s expression darkened, his eyes imprable.

    What on earth had the Iverson family done to her? If all they''d done was nder her and send her abroad, surely that wasn''t enough to warrant this level of hatred. There had to be something else, something he didn''t know.

    Suddenly, a memory from that day''s hypnosis session shed in his mind-the vivid, unsettling vision that felt less like a dream and more like a memory. Every time he recalled it, a chill ran down his spine. It was all too real.

    Just then, Weston approached, taking a sleek ck box from a bodyguard and handing it to Citrine.

    "For you a little wee gift," the old man said, his usual sternness softened by a hint of awkwardness.

    "Thank you." Citrine smiled politely and epted the box.

    She understood that Weston was expressing both gratitude and a quiet apology for the past. He had never actually harmed her, and she saw no reason to hold a grudge.

    It was the first time Raymond had seen his father go out of his way to be kind to someone, and he couldn''t hide his surprise.

    "Go on, open it," Weston encouraged, a rare warmth flickering across his usually severe face.

    Citrine nced at him and opened the box right there.

    Insidey a jade bracelet, luminous and beautiful¡ªa piece that clearly carried both value and meaning.

    "It''s stunning," Citrine said sincerely.

    "You have a good eye," Weston replied, unable to hide his pride.

    "Dad, is this the bracelet you once bought for Aunt Margaret?" Raymond''s shock was unmistakable.

    Years ago, Weston had been close to his older sister. He had spent millions at auction for this very bracelet, intending to give it to her. But before he could, she passed away, leaving him with lifelong regret. The fact that he was now giving it to Citrine was proof enough of how much he valued her.

    As they left, Weston pulled Raymond aside and said, "Remember to bring your daughter to the family estate next Friday."

    He gave Citrine a final look before climbing into his car.

    By May, the weather was starting to turn warm.

    Havencrest Preparatory Academy was once again holding its monthly exams, and, unsurprisingly, Citrine took first ce with a record-breaking score of 749, beating the runner-up by more than twenty points-the highest score in the school''s history.

    What truly shocked everyone, though, was that Jete, the former top student, failed not only to hold onto first ce but even dropped out of the top ten,nding all the way down at twentieth. Alicia also slipped, barely making it into the top fifteen.

    During Monday''s awards ceremony, Citrine stood on stage, basking in the school''s praise.

    Down below, Jete sat pale and rigid, ring up at Citrine with bitter envy, clutching her pen so tightly she nearly snapped it in two.

 Chapter 110

    Section Two.

    Clifford watched from the back of the hall, his gaze drifting as Citrine stood on stage, radiant under the spotlight.

    It was hard to believe how much she''d changed in just a few months.

    He could still remember when Citrine was considered a nobody, clueless and unremarkable.

    As Clifford drifted off in thought, someone nudged his arm.

    "Hey, what''s going on?" Laird asked, sounding irritated. "Didn''t Jete swear she''d take first ce this time? So why is Citrine still at the top?" Laird had always shed with Citrine, and after watching her hog the spotlight for several contests in a row, he couldn''t help but voice his frustration.

    Clifford let out a sigh. "There''s been some trouble with the Iverson familytely. Jete... well, she must''ve been distracted, that''s why she didn''t do her best."

    Just thinking about the Iverson family''s recent troubles brought a shadow to Clifford''s face.

    He''d heard about thepany''s crisis¡ªhis father and older brother had been so busy trying to fix things, they hadn''t been home in weeks.

    He was thest in the family to learn that Citrine was actually Raymond''s biological daughter. Before that, he and Jete both believed Citrine''s real father was just some penniless nobody.

    All these revtions,yered on top of the family''s mess, left Clifford feeling conflicted and confused. He couldn''t understand why Citrine had aligned herself with the Carmichaels against the Iversons.

    After the school awards ceremony, Citrine received a schrship notification-ten thousand dors. She was so thrilled that when she got home that afternoon, she did something unheard of: she polished off two full tes at dinner.

    Raymond noticed immediately. "You''ve got quite the appetite tonight." Citrine was usually picky about food, rarely ate meat, and barely finished half a te. Her enthusiasm tonight took him by surprise.

    "I got first in my year," Citrine blurted out, unable to hide her delight. Her eyes sparkled with genuine happiness.

    Raymond rarely saw her this joyful. Even at home, when she smiled at him, there was always a trace of distance, as if her happiness was never quite real.

    Watching her now, he couldn''t help but smile warmly. "But you alwayse first, don''t you? I''ve never seen you this excited before."

    For the longest time, Raymond had misunderstood and thought Citrine was a poor student. In reality, she''d been acing every monthly examtely, nearly scoring perfect marks-even on those notoriously tough essays.

    He felt a surge of pride. His daughter was simply born to excel.

    Citrine focused on her meal. "It''s different this time. I broke the school''s all-time record and there''s a cash prize, too."

    At the mention of the prize, her eyes lit up even more.

    Raymond chuckled. "Do you really love money that much?"

    She hesitated, then answered with sincerity, "Of course."

    Having money meant she could control her own fate. People could change, but money never would.

    In herst life, everyone she loved had betrayed her. Only the money in her bank ount had stayed by her side.

    Most importantly, she''d known what it meant to go without. That''s why she understood so well the importance of security and power.

    The mention of money jogged Raymond''s memory, and he frowned gently. "By

    the way, why haven''t you used the card I gave you?"

    He''d given Citrine his main bank card, the one with all his savings, but he''d noticed she hadn''t touched it once.

    She nced down, her voice calm. "There''s nothing I need to buy."

    What she didn''t know was that Raymond had given her his primary ount. She''d epted the card when he offered it, but she''d never intended to use it.

    Raymond had plenty of money and could afford to take care of her, but with the Iverson family looming in the background, Citrine couldn''t guarantee what her ce in his life would be if he remarried and had another daughter someday. She''d decided from the start not to owe him anything.

    Raymond took her answer at face value. He didn''t press any further.

 Chapter 111

    That night, when Citrine returned to her room, Raymond noticed her backpack lying on the couch in the living room.

    He walked over, intending to take it upstairs for her. But as he picked it up, he didn''t realize the zipper was open; the moment he lifted the bag, everything inside spilled out onto the floor.

    Raymond bent down to gather up the fallen items and noticed a stack of crimson certificates scattered across the carpet.

    "Achievement awards," he murmured as he nced at them.

    After picking everything up, he gathered the certificates into a neat pile-there were quite a few of them. The one on top was for earning first ce in her grade on a monthly exam. Underneath were more certificates for ranking first in her ss and grade.

    As Raymond flipped through the stack, he realized the awards spanned from when Citrine was four all the way to eleven. He carefully went through each one.

    Most were for academic excellence-first ce in tests¡ªalong with awards for mathpetitions, writing contests, problem-solving tournaments, even track and field. What surprised Raymond most was that every single certificate was for first ce. Not a single second ce among them.

    Yet, most of the certificates were rumpled and creased, some even torn, a few with water stains as if they''d once been soaked through.

    Seeing this, Raymond felt as though someone had reached inside and wrenched his heart. The pain was almost physical.

    He knew how simple a child''s heart could be-kids loved showing off their achievements. What kind of child would willingly crush and tear up their own awards?

    Raymond could almost picture that stubborn little girl, time after time bringing her hard-won certificates to Sawyer, only to be met with indifference. Alone in her room, crying, she must have torn those certificates apart out of sheer disappointment.

    Just how deep must her heartbreak have been, for her to destroy the only evidence of her achievements?

    That night, Raymond didn''t sleep. Instead, he sat at the table, painstakingly gluing the shredded certificates back together, smoothing out every crease, one by one. By the time he finished, it was already dawn.

    The next afternoon, when Citrine came home from school, she found workers bustling around the living room.

    What could they be renovating in here? she wondered.

    Confused, Citrine turned to Ismael. "Ismael, what''s going on?"

    Ismael, busy directing the workmen, turned and exined, "Miss, this was Mr. Raymond''s idea. He gave instructions first thing this morning¡ªsaid he wanted a custom disy cab, but I''m not sure what for."

    Assuming Raymond just needed some extra storage, Citrine didn''t think much of it and went up to her room.

    It wasn''t until the following day that she saw the finished result: an entire wall of elegant ss-fronted cabs in the living room, and inside, every single certificate she''d ever earned, lovingly restored. The once-tattered fragments were somehow pieced back together, the creases ironed t.

    She stood there, stunned, for a long time.

    "How do you like it?" Raymond had just walked in and, seeing her standing in front of the disy, couldn''t help but ruffle her hair.

    Citrine''s heart clenched. She turned, gazing at him, her voice almost a whisper. "Did you fix all of these yourself?"

    Raymond nodded. "I did."

    "Why would you do that?" Her tone was conflicted, a flicker of old wounds showing in her eyes.

    These certificates were the proof of all the years she''d desperately sought Sawyer''s approval, the evidence of a child''s longing for a father''s love.

    "These are the trophies of your journey, Citrine. Every single one is precious. Of course I wanted to keep them safe and put them on disy," Raymond replied softly, warmth in his eyes.

    That warmth stung her in a way she couldn''t exin. Citrine looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

    All those years, she''d worked so hard, achieved so much¡ªjust to catch Sawyer''s attention. But whenever she and Jete handed in their certificates together, Sawyer only ever saw Jete.

 Chapter 112

    The disy cab in the Iverson family home was filled with Jete''s awards and certificates, tracing her achievements from childhood all the way up. Most were for second or third ce, and some were little more than participation ribbons, but Sawyer treasured them all, carefully arranging each one as if it were gold.

    Citrine used to dream of having a cab like that for herself. But when she''d asked, Sawyer brushed her off with a flimsy excuse about there not being enough space in the house.

    She remembered apetition when Jete came home in tears because she hadn''t won anything. That time, Citrine had actually ced, and she''d run to Sawyer, beaming. "Dad, look! I won an award!"

    Instead of celebrating with her, Sawyer lost his temper.

    He snapped, "Keep your mouth shut. What''s there to brag about with some silly prize? Can''t you see your sister''s upset? How can you be so insensitive?"

    He wasn''t done. His voice went cold: "I don''t ever want to see you waving your certificates around this house again."

    Sawyer''s face was more severe than Citrine had ever seen. The scolding frightened her so much that she never brought home another certificate.

    Now, standing in front of this wall covered in awards, Citrine''s eyes stung. She whispered, "In the Iverson family, there was never room for my achievements."

    Raymond''s expression darkened, his voice sharp with anger. "That''s the damn Iversons for you."

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh, genuine and light. "This is the first time I''ve ever seen a wall covered with my own awards. It feels... really good."

    She looked at Raymond with sincerity. "Thank you, Raymond." She could feel how much he cared about her.

    "I''m your father. You''re my daughter. No need for thanks," Raymond said with a chuckle, amused by her formality.

    In that moment, Citrine found herself wishing from the bottom of her heart that he would always be this kind. But then something seemed to trouble her; her smile faded and she looked away.

    After a pause, she said quietly, "But someday, you''ll have children of your own." She nced aside, unable to hide the hint of sadness in her eyes.

    Raymond''s heart clenched. Maybe it was some father-daughter intuition, but he could sense how much this bothered her.

    He thought for a moment, then grew serious. "You''ll always be my only daughter. I''m never going to have any other children."

    "Okay," Citrine replied, though she didn''t really believe him. She knew that one day he''d probably have a wife, and children would follow-it was only natural. Who knew if he''d turn out just like Sawyer? Still, Raymond''s words filled her with a kind of joy she''d never known before. Her whole body seemed to hum with happiness.

    Raymond could tell Citrine was in high spirits that day. Maybe her mood rubbed off on him, because when he went to work the next morning, nothing could bring him down.

    Even when an employee''s mistake cost thepany millions, Raymond didn''t say a word about it.

    By midday, the Carmichael Group''s internal chat was in full meltdown.

    Yvette: "Oh my god, did the boss take happy pills today? He''s being so gentle- it''s freaking me out!"

    Laboris Fortuna: "Heard the director''s blunder cost thepany millions and President Carmichael didn''t even get mad. Something''s seriously off."

    FortuneFlow: "First time seeing President Carmichael like this. Honestly, I''m kind of scared. [nervous emoji]"

    Diligence Crowns All: "Do you think President Carmichael might be in love? I read that when people fall in love, their brains make more dopamine and they get all cheerful. Suddenly the whole world seems beautiful."

    ShyGirl: "I think so too! President Carmichael must be in love."

 Chapter 113

    As a nod to thest time Weston had given her that jade bracelet, Citrine agreed to apany Raymond back to the Carmichael family estate on Friday.

    Before they left, Citrine asked the housekeeper and Adler to help load the gifts she''d prepared for the Carmichael family into the car. She''d actually picked out these gifts a while ago, but never got around to delivering them.

    There were so many packages that Citrine and Raymond ended up arrivingter than usual. By the time they got there, the entire Carmichael n had already gathered-even Manley, who rarely came home, had shown up. Now, everyone was just waiting to sit down for dinner.

    When Weston spotted Raymond entering, his gaze slid right past his son, darting repeatedly toward the front door. There was a flicker of anticipation in his eyes, tinged with a trace of anxiety.

    "Dad, what are you looking at?" Salome followed his line of sight toward the entryway, raising her eyebrows in mild surprise.

    Weston was known for his stern demeanor, both outside and at home. Salome couldn''t remember ever seeing her father drop his stoic facade and show real emotion like this. She was a little stunned.

    "Nothing." When no one appeared at the door after a long pause, Weston''s expression cooled, and his tone grew even sharper than usual.

    Witnessing her father''s sudden shift, Salome wisely kept her thoughts to herself and fell silent.

    Men''s moods really are as unpredictable as Havencrest''s weather-changing in an instant, and old men are no exception.

    Of course, Salome would only dare joke about that in her head. She''d never risk saying it aloud in front of her father.

    A few minutester, Citrine entered, bncing several boxes in her arms. Adler followed close behind, carrying therger packages.

    At the sight of Citrine, Weston''s face finally softened a little. He seemed to remember what he''d just said, quickly ncing at his daughter and insisting, "I wasn''t waiting for her, you know."

    Immediately, every pair of eyes in the room turned to Weston.

    Salome: ...

    Well, now everyone knows exactly who you were waiting for.

    Regina, who was well aware that Citrine had saved Weston''s life not long ago, had noticed his attitude had shifted ever since. But seeing the change with her own eyes made her feel a sudden sense of unease.

    Adler, who Raymond had recruited to help move the gifts, wasted no time after dropping off the boxes-he left almost immediately.

    "These are from Citrine," Raymond exined, helping her distribute the presents to everyone.

    "Citrine, you''re far too generous!" Salome eximed, overjoyed with her gift.

    Travis was the only younger member of the Carmichael family, and since he and Manley rarely visited, there wasn''t much of a bond between aunt and nephew. Now, with a new niece suddenly in her life, Salome couldn''t have been happier. She''d always adored sweet, gentle girls-especially ones as strikingly beautiful as Citrine.

    "Aunt Salome, I hope you like it," Citrine said, shing a warm, honeyed smile.

    "Oh, sweetheart, you''re just too precious! You could give me a pebble and I''d still treasure it like gold," Salome gushed,pletely enchanted by Citrine''s smile and charm.

    "Let''s see what our Citrine picked out for me," Salome said, eagerly tearing into her present.

    All the Carmichael children had grown up under Weston''s strict, iron-fisted rule. Even though Salome was the only daughter, she''d been raised no differently-her elegant appearance hid a fiery, straightforward personality.

    Citrine watched her new aunt with quiet interest. Salome''s good mood was infectious, and Citrine found herself smiling too.

    Herst visit to the estate had been unpleasant, and she hadn''t really noticed Salome before. Now, she was struck by the stark contrast between Salome''s graceful exterior and her bold, spirited energy.

 Chapter 114

    A sharp scream cut through the air, finally pulling Citrine''s gaze away from her.

    Everyone in the Carmichael family¡ªincluding Weston-turned to see where the noise hade from.

    "Oh my God, that''s a one-of-a-kind JR bag!" Salome was nearly in tears from excitement. She''d always adored this particr purse, but it was a limited edition from JR¡ªpriced at over eight million dors, and not something you could buy just because you had the money.

    "Honestly, you''re embarrassing," Weston muttered, frowning at Salome with clear disdain.

    "Dad, you don''t get it! This bag is impossible to get!" Salome was so overjoyed that for once, she wasn''t even afraid of Weston''s displeasure.

    "Citrine, how on earth did you get this?" Salome whispered in stunned awe.

    "A friend helped me out," Citrine replied honestly. What she didn''t mention was that the owner of JR hadn''t even charged her for it.

    With Salome unwrapping her gift, the rest of the family began opening theirs as well.

    Weston received a vintage chess set. At first, he didn''t think much of it--but as soon as he saw the rich luster and fine grain of the pieces, his expression shifted from surprise to disbelief. "This... this is the centerpiece from the Magnolia States Auction a few years ago."

    He ran his fingers over the chess pieces, feeling immediately that they were nothing like any ordinary set.

    Weston shot a furtive nce at Raymond. "Where did she get something like this? I heard the auction house''s owner kept it for himself; it was never for sale."

    Raymond shook his head, equally stunned. "Citrine handled all the gifts herself. I have no idea."

    Seeing their confusion, Weston dropped the matter.

    Travis unwrapped thetest touchscreen gamingptop from CICI Group¡ªone that hadn''t even hit the market yet. His usual stern expression softened, a rare flicker of delight crossing his face.

    Manley, on the other hand, set his unopened gift aside. Ever since his ident, his moods had grown increasingly unpredictable, but the Carmichaels were used to it by now and didn''t press him.

    Their youngest uncle hadn''t made it to the gathering, and with all the gifts delivered, Citrine finally rxed.

    Everyone in the Carmichael family looked pleased-everyone except Vicente and Regina, who were squished into a corner, looking utterly miserable.

    It was only after all the gifts had been handed out that Citrine seemed to notice the two of them.

    She furrowed her brow, putting on a look of exaggerated regret. "Oh, I''m so sorry I think I forgot to bring gifts for you two. You''re not mad at me, are you?" Years of watching Jete work her maniptive magic had taught Citrine a thing or two, and she wasn''t above using those tricks herself when necessary.

    Vicente and Regina exchanged a nce, both instantly understanding what was really going on.

    Citrine had brought gifts for the entire Carmichael family-everyone except them. It was a deliberate snub, in as day.

    Regina was fuming. She''d never been so tantly ignored in her life, but she could only swallow her anger and force herself to stayposed.

    And the fact that Citrine''s gifts to the Carmichaels were all rare and valuable only made Regina''s jealousy burn hotter.

    Sensing the attention of the Carmichael family on her, Regina quickly put on a gracious, mature smile and smoothed over the awkwardness. "Of course not, Citrine. Honestly, my brother and I are just d you could make it. Gifts really aren''t important."

    "It''s wonderful you feel that way," Citrine replied with a bright, insincere smile. But as the words left her lips, the smile vanished.

    She really couldn''t stand these two siblings. Regina had deliberately tried to stir up troublest time, and as for her brother¡ªhe might seem gentle and reserved, but Citrine''s instincts told her he was far more dangerous than he looked.

 Chapter 115

    Salome was never one to hide her feelings. The moment she received the gift, she was instantly enamored, slipping the bag over her shoulder with obvious delight.

    "I absolutely love it!" she gushed, her face glowing with joy.

    It was impossible to miss how much she adored the present.

    Seeing Salome so happy, Citrine¡ªthe giver-felt a warm satisfaction bloom in her chest.

    Just as the mood was at its peak, Regina approached, her eyes lingering enviously on the bag hanging from Salome''s shoulder. She hesitated, then asked softly, "Auntie, I''ve never seen a real JR bag before. Would you mind if I touched it?"

    Salome''s expression tightened, a hint of displeasure flickering across her face. She cherished this gift from Citrine-she''d even put on gloves before daring to touch it herself.

    But Regina''s longing gaze was hard to resist. After a brief pause, Salome relented with a nod.

    "Fine, you can touch it." She handed the bag over, careful as if she were passing a priceless artifact.

    Regina reached out, but just before the exchange, Salome drew the bag back, issuing a stern warning. "Remember, this is a gift from Citrine. Please be careful¡ª don''t scratch it with your nails."

    It''s just a knockoff, Regina thought impatiently. You''d think she''d never seen a designer bag before.

    Outwardly, though, Regina kept her irritation hidden and offered a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry, Auntie. I''ll be careful."

    Only then did Salome finally let go.

    Regina took the bag gingerly, ncing over it as if she were merely admiring the craftsmanship.

    JR''s exclusive bags weren''t something you could just walk into a store and buy. Salome had flown to Magnolia several times and stille up empty-handed. Regina found it hard to believe Citrine had managed to get her hands on one so easily¡ªunless, of course, the bag was a fake.

    As Regina inspected the bag, her eyes caught the logo. She remembered reading online that genuine JR logos were crafted in one seamless piece, crisp and clear. But this logo looked grainy, the pattern uneven-a telltale sign of a counterfeit.

    A spark of triumph flickered in Regina''s eyes, quickly masked with feigned indifference.

    She pretended to study the bag a little longer before handing it back to Salome.

    With a casual air, Regina remarked, "Auntie, I read somewhere that the real JR logos are always perfectly molded in one go. But this one looks kind of rough- don''t you think it''s a bit off?"

    "Don''t believe everything you read online. Half of it''s nonsense and will rot your brain," Salome shot back, her face darkening as she clutched the bag protectively.

    Salome might be straightforward, but she wasn''t stupid-she could see right through Regina''s little game. This girl was getting bold, daring to covet what wasn''t hers.

    Salome had hoped her warning would be enough to put Regina in her ce. Instead, Regina''s next words only grew sharper.

    The Carmichael family was now under Weston''s control, with the family business managed by her uncle Raymond. Those two were the only ones Regina bothered to respect the rest of the Carmichaels, she barely gave a second thought.

    Ignoring Salome, Regina turned her sharp gaze on Citrine. "Citrine, you wouldn''t try to fool Auntie with a fake, would you?" she demanded, sounding righteously indignant as if she was truly concerned for Salome.

    "Enough!" Salome snapped. "Even if Citrine did give me a fake, I''d still be happy -because it''s the thought that counts."

    Citrine blinked in surprise. Most people, upon discovering they''d received a fake, would have turned on the gift-giver immediately. But Salome''s first instinct was to defend her.

    And the strangest part? They''d only met a handful of times.

 Chapter 116

    Citrine watched Salome, her expression a mix of emotions. It was a long moment before she finally spoke. "It''s not a fake."

    Both Regina and Salome froze, surprised by her insistence that the bag was genuine.

    JR''s products were the kind of ultra-luxury items money alone couldn''t buy. Even the Carmichael Group had once tried to partner with JR and had been tly turned down, which only proved how exclusive and arrogant the brand was.

    Salome had assumed from the start that it was a knockoff, but she hadn''t nned on exposing it. After all, it was the first gift from her niece, and real or not, she was happy to receive it. She just hadn''t expected Regina to call Citrine out in front of everyone.

    Regina, on the other hand, couldn''t believe Citrine had the nerve to im so confidently that the bag was real.

    Without thinking, Salome jumped in with reassurance. "Citrine, it''s alright. I know you meant well. It doesn''t matter to me if it''s real or not."

    "But Aunt Salome, it is real." Citrine sounded a little exasperated. It was the truth -she didn''t understand why her aunt refused to believe her.

    Turning to Regina, Citrine''s expression cooled. "Regina, if you''re going to say the bag is a fake, then show me some proof. You can''t just rely on gossip from the inte and expect everyone to believe you."

    "JR''s limited editions aren''t for sale at any price. That alone proves you''re lying," Regina shot back, thoroughly convinced.

    "That''s enough."

    Raymond''s voice cut through the tension. He strode over and positioned himself protectively in front of Citrine.

    He fixed Regina with a cold, furious re. "Keep your mouth shut. This discussion is over. If you''re so eager to leave the Carmichael family, you''re wee to go. Since when do you think you can push my daughter around?"

    He didn''t stop there. "Don''t forget-Citrine is the little princess of this family. You and your brother are just living here on our goodwill. You''d do well to remember your ce."

    His words were harsh, leaving no room for doubt.

    Regina''s face went pale in an instant. Raymond''s icy stare was murderous, and she felt a chill spread from head to toe, as if she''d been plunged into freezing water.

    Citrine, now shielded behind Raymond, tugged discreetly at his sleeve.

    "What is it?" In an instant, Raymond''s frosty demeanor softened, his gaze turning gentle.

    Citrine looked at him seriously. "I''m not lying. Let her finish."

    "Alright, whatever you say." Raymond never could refuse her; it only took a few seconds for him to back down.

    Citrine stepped out from behind him and faced Regina directly. "Regina, if I can prove the bag is real, what will you do?"

    Regina shook her head, unshaken. "That''s impossible. No way it''s real. But if it is,

    I''ll give you my entire allowance for the year."

    Citrine''s eyes lit up-now that was a deal worth making.

    "Really?" she pressed, making sure.

    Regina sneered. "Of course. I said it, didn''t I? I''m not going to back out."

    But Citrine wasn''t so sure-words alone didn''t count for much.

    After a moment''s thought, she said, "Then write it down. If you go back on your word, I''ll be the one losing out."

    "Sign this," she added, already pulling paper and a pen from her bag. She quickly scribbled out a statement, leaving a nk at the bottom for Regina''s signature.

    Regina snatched the paper, scowling as she read it. But thinking of how even the Carmichael family couldn''tnd a deal with JR, she became even more convinced the bag was a fake and signed her name without hesitation.

    "Fine, here you go." She handed the paper back with a huff.

 Chapter 117

    Seeing how confident Citrine looked, Salome opened her mouth as if to say something, but ultimately held her tongue.

    Regina''s eyes gleamed with challenge. "If this bag is genuine, I''ll give you my entire allowance for the year. But what if it''s a fake?"

    Citrine smiled sweetly, waiting for her to continue. "Well, what do you suggest?"

    Regina nced sidelong at Weston, gauging his reaction. When she saw that his expression hadn''t changed, she pressed on. "If it turns out to be a fake, then you have to leave the Carmichael family for good."

    Her ambition wasid bare for everyone to see-Regina wasn''t hiding it anymore.

    Weston never minded a little rivalry within the family. In fact, the old man had always admired a fighting spirit in his younger days, and he preferred his grandchildren to be ambitious¡ªas long as they were talented enough to bring honor to the family name.

    He''d brought Regina to countless high-society events; every single time, she''d outshine the other debutantes and steal the spotlight. It was this boldness and poise that made Weston favor her even more.

    Today, Regina was using that favoritism to push her luck.

    "Regina, that''s enough! Who do you think you are, telling someone to get out?" Raymond''s face darkened, his re sharp enough to cut through steel.

    She swallowed hard, but forced herself to reply, "Uncle Raymond, it was Citrine who challenged me first."

    Her body trembled; her heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear herself think. She didn''t even dare look at Raymond''s face.

    But this was her one shot-she wasn''t going to throw it away.

    The whole Carmichael family had cornered her into this.

    Weston had almost decided to have Raymond adopt her; she''d been this close to bing Raymond''s daughter, and after that, the whole Carmichael estate would have been hers. But then, out of nowhere, Citrine came back.

    If only Citrine had stayed gone-if only she''d never returned, or better yet, never survived out there¡ªRegina would''ve had it all.

    Now that Citrine had crushed her hopes, she''d have to fight for herself.

    "So? Do you dare to bet?" Regina stared at Citrine, doing her best to ignore everyone else''s stares. Her eyes brimmed with disdain.

    "Why should I?" Citrine narrowed her eyes. "If you lose, you just hand over your allowance. But if I lose, I''m supposed to leave the Carmichael family? That''s hardly fair. Nice try."

    Regina thought Citrine was bluffing and pressed harder. "Fine¡ªif I lose, I''ll leave the Carmichael family too. Satisfied?"

    "Don''t forget the allowance," Citrine replied, her gaze unwavering. "If I lose, I''ll give you my allowance for the year as well."

    Regina was speechless for a moment. Was Citrine really more concerned about the allowance than her ce in the family?

    "Fine."

    They were both on the verge of being thrown out, and Citrine was still hung up on

    the allowance. Regina wondered if she was out of her mind.

    With everything settled, Citrine pulled out her phone and, right in front of everyone, made a call.

    The line connected instantly.

    At MagnoliaJR headquarters, Rachel Tyler saw the familiar number sh on her screen. She immediately dropped her feet from the desk and sat up straight.

    "Citrine? You finally decided to call me. What''s up-missed me already?" Rachel''s tone was full of excitement.

    After listening to Citrine''s exnation, Rachel''s face changed. "Someone said the bag I gave you is a fake? Who''s the idiot with a death wish?" Rachel mmed her hand on the desk and shot to her feet.

 Chapter 118

    Citrine finished her call, her tone brisk and confident. "Alright, sweetheart, let me handle it from here."

    She hung up, setting her phone aside just as Regina-who''d been watching Citrine''s so-called business call with growing amusement-burst outughing. "Oh,e on, Citrine, did you rope someone into this little charade of yours?" she teased. "You have to admit, you''re quite the actress. That performance was almost convincing!" Reginaughed so hard she doubled over.

    Just then, a notification chimed on Salome''s phone. She nced down, surprise flickering across her face. "Wait-JR''s official ount just posted an update!"

    The post read: *"Liking your bag? The new one''s already on its way. @CICI"* Beneath the message was a photo-Salome''s exact handbag.

    Regina''s curiosity got the better of her. She pulled out her own phone and checked JR''s feed. When she saw the post, her grin widened. "Well, Citrine, looks like the original bag''s already been given away. The one you gave Auntie must be a fake."

    Citrine, scrolling through her phone as well, simply arched an eyebrow and offered a sly, almost impish smile. "Maybe you should check who JR actually tagged in that post?" she suggested, her voice sweet but edged with mischief.

    Regina scoffed, crossing her arms. "What, you think they tagged you? Just because your name''s Citrine doesn''t mean you''re CICI. Brands like JR are way out of reach¡ªeven for the Carmichaels. There''s no way you, of all people, could get close."

    She couldn''t believe, no matter what, that Citrine had any real connection to JR. If even the Carmichael family had no ess, how could Citrine, whose own family was far less influential?

    But Citrine only smiled and turned her phone around, showing Regina the screen. "Actually, it is me."

    Weston and Salome both crowded in for a look.

    "It really is," Salome murmured, exchanging a stunned nce with Weston. Shock

    was written all over their faces as they spoke in unison, "No way."

    Regina snatched Citrine''s phone out of her hand, scrolling quickly through the messages. Sure enough, there it was: a direct interaction between JR Group and Citrine. She stared at the message, her face draining of color.

    How could this be possible?

    How could that woman possibly have a connection with JR?

    And then, as the realization sank in¡ªremembering the promise she''d made

    Citrine earlier-Regina''s face went from pale to ashen.

    "Citrine, I''m so sorry. I was wrong to doubt you," Salome said, her voice trembling with regret. The shock hadn''t quite faded, but she was genuinely remorseful for having doubted her niece.

    "It''s fine," Citrine replied, unbothered.

    Just then, the Carmichael family''s housekeeper approached, leading a small group of people into the room.

    At their head was a sharply dressed woman in a white tailored suit, her hair pulled back in a sleek chignon. She exuded an air of effortless authority.

    "Ms. Tyler?" Salome blurted in disbelief.

    Most of the Carmichaels didn''t recognize the woman, but Salome certainly did it was Adelina Tyler, the younger sister of JR''s chairman, newly returned to the country to serve as president of thepany''s domestic branch.

    Adelina didn''t spare a nce for anyone else. She strode straight toward Citrine. "Citrine, it''s been too long I''ve missed you," she said warmly. Then she added, "So has my sister."

    "I''ve missed you both, too." Citrine''s eyes softened, warmth flickering across her face at the sight of an old friend.

    Adelina lifted a hand, prompting her team to deposit their armfuls of shopping bags at Citrine''s feet.

    "These are JR''stest exclusives," Adelina announced. "Just so no one questions your authenticity, my sister and I thought we''d bring a few by to set the record straight." Her gaze turned icy as she nced pointedly at Regina.

    "Thank you, Adelina," Citrine replied, slightly overwhelmed at the sight of so many luxury bags, but her heart full all the same.

    Adelina waved away her thanks with a smile. "No need for gratitude. What''s ours is yours."

 Chapter 119

    Adelina had another meeting to attend, so after dropping off the bags, she didn''t linger.

    As soon as she left, Citrine stared at the rows upon rows of handbags before her, feeling a headacheing on.

    She turned to Salome, her eyes lighting up. "Auntie, why don''t you pick a few? Take whichever ones you like," Citrine said, waving her hand generously.

    Salome looked at her niece in utter disbelief.

    "These are very expensive, Citrine," Salome said, her voice gentle but firm. "The one you gave me is more than enough." She really did love the bag, but these were all rare, designer pieces-far too extravagant to simply give away.

    But Citrine just grinned and tugged Salome over. "Don''t worry about it, Auntie. Go ahead, pick out your favorites-I still have plenty more at home."

    "If you insist, I won''t say no," Salome replied, her shock deepening, though she didn''t refuse again.

    Only after Salome had finished choosing did Citrine remember the matter at hand. She didn''t spare Regina a nce, instead focusing on Weston.

    Regina''s only support in the Carmichael family was Weston. Citrine figured she''d have better luck getting answers from him.

    "Weston, you heard what Regina just promised. Will she keep her word?"

    Her tone sharpened at the end.

    Weston could feel the pressure she was putting on him, and found himself caught off guard. He had always been the oneying down thew for the younger generation¡ªnever the other way around. This was the first time a junior had challenged him, and to his own surprise, he felt a surge of pride for his granddaughter.

    That''s more like it. She''s a true Carmichael-fearless, like I was at her age.

    A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Of course. A Carmichael''s word is their bond."

    He turned to Regina, whose face had gone deathly pale. His voice, though calm, left no room for argument. "Regina, do you have anything to add?"

    Regina looked utterly miserable. She knew how much Weston despised those who went back on their promises.

    But when she thought about what she had agreed to, her lips pressed together, and though she opened her mouth, the words wouldn''te.

    Suddenly, Regina dropped to her knees before Weston. "Grandpa."

    "What are you doing?" Weston''s face darkened. Regina might not have been his biological granddaughter, but he''d raised her in his home for years. He had always admired her pride and fire. Now, seeing her throw away her dignity like this, he felt nothing but disappointment.

    Regina''s eyes reddened as she bowed her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Grandpa, I grew up in the Carmichael family. I don''t want to leave. I don''t want to leave you."

    "You made this promise yourself. No one forced you," Weston said, turning away from her, his disappointment clear.

    Refusing to believe he could be so cold, Regina shuffled forward on her knees and clung to his sleeve, desperation in her eyes. "Please, Grandpa, help me. I don''t want to leave the family. I don''t want to leave you."

    Weston pulled his arm free. "Regina, stop this pitiful act. Remember what you swore. Or I really will regret ever bringing you and your brother home from that orphanage."

    Weston had always despised weakness. Regina didn''t realize that the moment she knelt before him, begging, she had lost his favor for good.

    He cast her onest cold look. "I''ll have someone arrange a new ce for you. Tomorrow morning, you''ll move out."

    Vicente nced down at his sister, fighting the urge to plead on her behalf.

    Throughout this entire ordeal, Manley and Travis had kept to themselves, quietly observing. When it was finally over, father and son exchanged a knowing, satisfied smile.

 Chapter 120

    After leaving the old mansion, Manley and Travis got into the same car. Both father and son sat in the back seat, each pointedly ignoring the other.

    The gift from Citrine sat between them, a massive package that took up the space of an entire person, forming a physical barrier between the two.

    Travis''s eyes never left the oversized box. After a long silence, he finally asked, "Aren''t you even a little curious what''s inside?"

    Manley lifted his gaze just barely, ncing at his so-called son. "Of course I''m curious."

    "Then why didn''t you open it back there?" Travis studied Manley''s face, searching for a reaction.

    "What''s it to you?" Manley replied coolly, turning to stare out the window, his expression unreadable.

    Travis couldn''t shake the feeling that Manley''s attitude toward Citrine was oddly different-distinct from how he treated anyone else.

    For one thing, Manley had actually epted Citrine''s gift.

    Everyone knew Manley had a terrible temper, and he absolutely despised the Carmichael family. Whenever he lost his temper at their gatherings, he''d never spare anyone''s feelings. Travis, in fact, had never seen his father show this much courtesy to anyone-let alone a young girl.

    "I remember you never ept gifts from the Carmichaels," Travis said suddenly, studying him.

    If his memory served, on Manley''sst birthday both Vicente and Regina Carmichael had brought presents, and Manley hadn''t even hesitated to toss their gifts out in front of them, making his disdain perfectly clear.

    Before Manley could reply, Travis pressed on, "And you seemed a little too eager to visit the old house today."

    Manley usually dreaded these family visits; every trip back was preceded by a fit of rage at home. But this afternoon, he''d been strangely calm-he hadn''t thrown a tantrum, and had even volunteered to make the trip.

    Travis didn''t get it. Although they were father and son, he''d never been able to figure Manley out.

    "You think you can question me about my own business?" Manley''s eyes cut back to Travis with a cold, venomous re. "Listen carefully: stay away from her. If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I''ll end you."

    There was nothing remotely joking in Manley''s tone.

    At that moment, he was like a viper, tongue flicking, all malice and threat.

    Travis paled, shooting his father a sidelong nce before sneering, "Well, look at that. Never thought I''d see the day when Manley actually cared about someone." With that, he turned to stare out his own window, his face locked in icy silence. Back at the vi, Manley instructed the staff to carry the box upstairs. Only after the servants had left did he carefully open the package himself.

    "Kane?" The sight of the robot inside took Manley by surprise¡ªthough surprise wasn''t the only thing he felt. There was a flicker of delight as well.

    He''d been reclusive for years, but that didn''t mean he didn''t keep up with the

    news.

    Recently, the CICI Group had been making waves in Havencrest, even threatening to overtake the Carmichaels. Theirtest creation¡ªa medical robot called Kane had caused a worldwide sensation.

    Unlike anything else on the market, Kane came loaded with advanced programming and a cutting-edge medical diagnostic system. It was easily the most sophisticated home healthcare robot avable anywhere.

    Manley had been skeptical, but the moment he powered it on, Kane''s voice rang out distinctly from its frame, confirming that this was indeed the real thing.

    "Sir, how may I assist you?"

    Manley stared at the robot, utterly stunned.

    Although theunch event had already taken ce, only a handful of Kanes existed in the world. Without status or significant wealth, there was no way to get your hands on one.

    "How on earth did she manage to buy this?" Manley wondered aloud, genuinely astonished.

 Chapter 121

    A few dayster, something bizarre happened in Havencrest.

    No one knew which reckless soul had the nerve to provoke the Aldridge family''s young master, but word quickly spread: someone had beaten Quentin Aldridge so viciously that three of his ribs were broken. The attack was so brutal, in fact, that Quentin nearly lost his life.

    But that wasn''t even the most absurd part. The real scandal cameter that same evening, when Havencrest''s high society was gathered at Siren''s Whisper to celebrate the birthday of a local bigwig.

    By some twisted stroke of fate, Quentin''s assant decided to dump him¡ª bloodied and battered¡ªright at the entrance to the party. The ce was packed with influential guests, and the moment someone spotted Quentin, a shriek rang out, drawing everyone''s attention.

    There Quentiny, sprawled on the floor, ck and blue from head to toe, wearing nothing but his underwear.

    Now, inside a private room at Havencrest Prime Medical Center, Quentiny in bed swaddled inyer afteryer of gauze. Even his mouth was bandaged, leaving only his eyes visible-and those eyes were zing with fury.

    Moments earlier, Quentin had thrown a raging fit, shattering anything within reach of his hospital bed.

    The bodyguard stationed by the door-still holding a lunchbox-stood stiffly at attention. His face bore fresh bruises, courtesy of Quentin''s outburst.

    Bob, the bodyguard, only grinned and scratched his head, acting as if the bruises didn''t bother him at all. "Boss, let me help you take off the bandages so you can eat something, at least a little bit."

    Bob wasn''t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, and he hadn''t realized just how much trouble his words might cause. He repeated himself, utterly oblivious: "You need to eat, sir. And don''t worry no one''s going to see your face swollen up like -well, like that."

    Quentin''s eyes narrowed dangerously. "Like what, Bob?" he growled, his voice low and threatening.

    Bob shivered, suddenly aware of how cold the room felt. "No, sir, I didn''t mean your face looks like that. I just meant..." He scratched his head, struggling for an exnation buting up empty.

    "Shut it," Quentin snapped. Just the mention of his face sent a fresh wave of rage and humiliation through him. His chest ached as if something heavy was sitting on

    it.

    Beneath the bandages, Quentin''s face turned an even uglier shade. He''d just finished venting his anger, and after smashing everything he could get his hands on, his entire body now felt like it had been run over by a truck. He hurt everywhere and was too exhausted tosh out any further.

    Glowering at Bob, he bellowed, "You absolute idiot. Get out. Now."

    A few minutester, someone else entered the room. Without looking up, Quentin yelled, "I said get out!"

    "Who are you yelling at?" Theo paused in the doorway, then strode right in.

    "Theo? What are you doing here?" Quentin was startled. He hadn''t told anyone he was in the hospital. How did Theo even know?

    Theo shot him a look, struggling not tough. "Are you seriously asking? Your little fiasco is all over the inte. I think there''s not a soul in Havencrest who doesn''t know you''re in the hospital."

    "What do you mean?" Quentin forgot all about his pain and shot upright in bed.

    "See for yourself." Theo picked up Quentin''s phone from the table and handed it over.

    Quentin snatched the phone and opened up Twitter in a frenzy.

    When he saw the trending topics, his world came crashing down.

    There, at the top of the trending list, was a meme of Quentin-barely clothed, battered all over-circting everywhere online. Worst of all, the post was sitting squarely at number one.

    Quentin was livid. "Which bastard did this?"

    He scrolled through thements.

    "I can''t stopughing-look at young Aldridge''s face, he looks like he got hit by a truck!"

    "Oh my God, I''m dying. This is the funniest thing I''ve seen all year."

    "I''ve got to hand it to whoever beat up Mr. Aldridge. Not only did they leave him for dead, they dumped him right at the birthday party! Brutal, but hrious."

 Chapter 122

    "What kind of bear is this supposed to be?"

    "Upstairsmenter, are you trying to kill me withughter? My happiness today is all thanks to you."

    "But seriously, have you guys noticed how fit Mr. Aldridge is? Look at those broad shoulders, that slim waist, the muscles... I can''t even imagine what it''d feel like to touch him."

    "I''m done pretending. Even if Mr. Aldridge''s face is swollen like a balloon, that body''s still something else. [drooling emoji]"

    The tone of thements suddenly shifted.

    "Damn bastard, I''m about to lose it." The more Quentin read, the darker his expression became.

    In the end, his phone took the brunt of his rage-he mmed his barely-used phone to the ground, shattering it into pieces.

    Theo watched Quentin pacing back and forth in fury, unable to hold back a question. "Man, someone really went after you, Quentin. Who did you piss off this time?"

    Quentin thought hard. Other than kidnapping that girl recently, he couldn''t recall offending anyone else.

    Could it be her?

    He shook his head. Impossible. That girl looked so fragile there''s no way it could

    be her. Quentin dismissed the thought immediately.

    Still, he wanted to know: who could be so ruthless?

    With no clue at all, Quentin scowled and shook his head. "I have no idea."

    When he''d been attacked, he''d been stuffed in a sack-he never saw his attacker''s face. No matter how many times he asked, the person never uttered a word. He didn''t even hear their voice.

    "This is ridiculous. I''m calling the police." The more he thought, the angrier he got. He ordered Bob to get a medical report from the hospital to document his injuries.

    Bob was back in just a few minutes. Quentin asked right away, "That was fast. Did you get it?"

    Bob shook his head. "No. They wouldn''t give it to me."

    "Why not?" Quentin frowned.

    "The doctor says your injuries are only minor."

    "Dammit!"

    Quentin couldn''t help cursing.

    "I''m so banged up I can barely get out of bed, and you''re telling me these are minor injuries?"

    Theo struggled to hide his smile, but kept his tone analytical. "Looks like whoever did this knew exactly how hard to hit you, Quentin. You might as well ept it."

    "No way. I have to find out who did this. I swear I won''t rest until I make them pay." This was the first time Quentin had ever been humiliated like this.

    He turned to Theo. "I already had someone look into it-couldn''t find a single clue. Theo, your family knows everyone. Can you help me dig deeper?"

    "Of course." Theo agreed without hesitation. After all, his friend had taken quite a hit.

    Besides, he was curious too. Who could possibly outy Quentin like this? Whoever it was, they certainly had guts.

    Meanwhile, inside the Grandeur Waters Estates, Citrine was ying chess with the old man.

    When the old man arrived, he''d specially brought along the chess set Citrine had given him.

    "So? Want me to teach you how to y?" Other than fishing, chess was the old man''s greatest passion. Unfortunately, no one else in the family was much of a challenge, which was why he''de looking for Raymond. Since Raymond wasn''t home yet and he had nothing better to do, he decided to see if Citrine was interested in a game.

    Citrine took a seat across from him, her tone even. "I know a little."

    "You know how to y chess?" Weston was surprised.

    In his mind, chess required patience and strategy-something you couldn''t master without years of practice. Younger folks rarely had the discipline for it.

    But then he thought of Regina. She''d yed with him since childhood and was quite skilled, though still not quite a match for him. Citrine, no matter how talented, surely couldn''t be better than Regina, whom he''d trained since she was a kid.

    So, Weston didn''t take Citrine''s words too seriously.

 Chapter 123

    "How about a game of chess?" Weston said with a smile.

    He didn''t expect Citrine to win. In fact, he''d already decided to go easy on her-no need to embarrass the girl-and maybe get a sense of her skill level so he could offer a few pointers.

    "Sure," Citrine agreed without hesitation.

    At first, Weston didn''t take the game too seriously. But as Citrine pressed forward, move after move, he found his pieces forced into a corner, backed up with

    nowhere to go.

    His rxed confidence slowly gave way to a look of concentration. He hovered over the board, fingers poised over a ck knight, trying to find a way out. After a long pause, he finally made his move, narrowly escaping disaster.

    Weston let out a silent sigh of relief, thinking he''d dodged a bullet. What he didn''t realize was that he''d just stepped right into a trap Citrine had set several moves in advance.

    From that point on, every turn yed out exactly as Citrine intended.

    She barely let her satisfaction show, her smile so faint it was almost invisible.

    One by one, her white pieces imed territory, cutting off ck''s escape. In the end, Weston had nowhere left to run.

    "You''ve lost," Citrine said simply, pulling her hand back and looking calmly at the board.

    "Youngdy, who taught you to y like this?" Weston stared at the endgame, unable to hide his shock. The skills he prided himself on had just been dismantled by a seventeen-year-old girl.

    "I taught myself," Citrine replied, her tone even.

    Despite the win, there was no hint of glee on her face-her expression was as

    serene as ever.

    "You taught yourself? Are you joking?" Weston''s brow furrowed. He remembered how harsh his own chess instructor had been back in the day, the grueling lessons. The memory darkened his expression.

    "I''m not joking. It''s the truth," Citrine answered earnestly.

    Back when she''d been stranded on Mirage Cay, every day had felt endless. To distract herself from the pain, she''d started ying chess against herself with pebbles she found on the ind. Over time, her skills had sharpened to what they

    were now.

    "Incredible. You really are my granddaughter," Weston said, satisfaction shining in his eyes¡ªhe couldn''t have hidden his pride even if he tried.

    The more he thought about it, the prouder he felt. Weston burst outughing, a deep, booming sound that echoed through the house-loud enough that Raymond, just stepping in from the driveway, heard it from outside.

    Hearing his father''s voice, Raymond was caught off guard. Weston rarely visited unless something important was going on.

    Raymond had barely set down his briefcase when Weston called out, "Come here!"

    "Dad, what brings you here?" Raymond asked, walking over to where Citrine sat. Weston ignored the question and pointed at the chessboard. "Look at this game." Raymond nced over, barely interested at first. But as his eyes took in the arrangement of the pieces, his expression shifted, bing thoughtful and a bit awed.

    He couldn''t help but praise, "White lured ck into a trap, controlling the board from start to finish. That''s brilliant strategy."

    "Youe up with a new technique, Dad?" Raymond assumed Weston had yed as white.

    "Not me. It was Citrine." Weston beamed, giving Citrine a congrattory pat on

    the shoulder. "She really is my granddaughter-takes after me."

    Raymond stared at Citrine, stunned. "Dad, you mean... you were ck, and Citrine yed white?"

    "That''s right," Weston replied.

    Raymond''s shock was quickly reced by understanding as he remembered all the other unexpected things Citrine had dely, it somehow made sense. Then pride took over. After all, this was his daughter.

    Weston, meanwhile, had hispetitive spirit well and truly stoked. One game wasn''t enough¡ªhe insisted on a rematch, then another, and another. To his further astonishment, Citrine won three games in a row, leaving the old manpletely outmaneuvered in a matter of minutes.

 Chapter 124

    Even though he''d lost, it was rare to see Weston in such a good mood. For once, he even stayed over for dinner at Raymond''s ce a surprise in itself.

    It wasn''t until they sat down to eat that Raymond finally asked, "Dad, what brings you here tonight, out of the blue?"

    Weston paused, his fork hovering midair, and answered as if it was the most natural thing in the world, "I came to y chess with you, of course."

    He added, "But you weren''t home."

    Raymond couldn''t help butugh at his father''s feigned indignation. "Don''t you know what time I get off work?"

    Weston had always been ruthlessly strict with his heir. The moment Raymond took over the Carmichael Group, his father''s first decree was that he should keep the same hours as his employees-no exceptions.

    But let''s not kid ourselves. Raymond knew perfectly well the old man hadn''t reallye for a chess game. He was here for Citrine. The chess match was just a convenient excuse.

    And besides, back when Raymond still lived at home, his father would always summon him to the old estate for a match-never once had hee to Raymond''s own house.

    Sensing his son''sck of enthusiasm, Weston suddenly mmed his fork down on the table with a sharp ng. "What, am I not wee here anymore?"

    Raymond sighed and forced a smile. "Dad, Citrine is my daughter. She''s got enough on her te with her schoolwork-she''s under a lot of pressure right now. Maybe it''s best if you don''t disturb her so much."

    After a moment''s thought, he added, "If you want a chess partner, you cane to me."

    "Too much schoolwork? Under pressure?" Weston scoffed, his brows knitting together in irritation.

    Citrine, who''d been quietly listening, was left speechless.

    Weston''s patience snapped. "Unbelievable! Are you throwing your own father out now, Raymond?"

    "That''s right," Raymond shot back, not backing down for a second.

    He hadn''t forgotten how the old man had once refused to even acknowledge Citrine.

    "Ungrateful brat!" Weston snapped, his face red with anger.

    Suddenly, the dinner table erupted into a heated argument. Father and son were at each other''s throats, voices raised and cheeks flushed. But Citrine didn''t mind at all; in fact, she kind of liked the chaos-it felt oddlyforting.

    Later that evening, Weston still tried to rope Citrine into another chess game, but Raymond refused to budge. The two men dug in their heels until, somehow, Raymond managed to usher his father out the door, though no one was quite sure how.

    Thinking back on Weston''s stormy exit, Citrine couldn''t help butugh quietly to herself.

    That old man, she thought, was actually kind of adorable.

    Later that night, curled up in bed and scrolling through her phone, Citrine

    suddenly received a friend request on Messenger.

    The request came from a user with a nk profile picture and no message

    attached. Citrine didn''t hesitate-she hit "decline" right away.

    She assumed that would be the end of it, but a few minutester, another request popped up from the same ount.

    She frowned, finger hovering over the decline button again¡ªuntil a message appeared: "It''s Manley."

    "Uncle Manley?" Citrine blinked in surprise.

    How did he get her Messenger handle?

    Curiosity piqued, she quickly epted the request.

    She opened the chat and sent a quick hello: "Hi, Uncle!"

    But after her message went through, there was nothing. Silence stretched on for

    so long that Citrine started to get sleepy. She yawned, ready to put her phone down for the night, when suddenly her screen lit up with a series of notification pings.

    She snapped to attention and opened the chat, only to find that Uncle Manley had sent a string of money transfers.

    She counted them-twenty in total. The exact maximum transfer limit on the app. She sent him a question mark.

    This time, the reply came instantly: "Take it. Didn''t you say you liked it?"

 Chapter 125

    That afternoon, Manley spent hours glued to his phone, his expression shifting constantly as evening crept in.

    He seemed to be waiting for someone''s message. For once, he was uncharacteristically quiet, not flying into his usual temper. Even that ever-present cloud of tension that usually hung around him seemed to have lifted, if only a little.

    The housekeeper, ncing at Manley as she prepared dinner, couldn''t help but remark, "Sir, you seem to be in quite a good mood today."

    Manley nced at the verification message still pending on his screen. The corners of his mouth twitched upward in a faint smile as he replied, "Yes, I suppose I am."

    He''d asked a friend at Primus Academy to help him get Citrine''s phone number. Really, he only wanted to see if he could find her on social media by searching her number. By pure luck, Citrine''s ount was linked to her number.

    Manley wasn''t much of a conversationalist and had no idea what to chat about with his niece.

    Then he recalled the look in Citrine''s eyes that day, when she''d bet her allowance against Regina-pure longing for money. Without thinking, he decided to send her a generous gift. He moved to wire her a hundred, maybe even two hundred thousand dors, as a show of goodwill.

    But the messaging app had a transfer limit; he could only send twenty thousand. Reluctantly, Manley settled for the smaller amount.

    When Citrine didn''t ept the money right away, he grew anxious.

    He typed another message: "Go ahead and ept it. Just a little something from your uncle."

    Sure enough, after that, Citrine finally epted the transfer.

    Manley''s smile deepened.

    The housekeeper paused in the kitchen, surprised to see Manley smiling- something she hadn''t witnessed in ages.

    Ever since his injury, his temper had only gotten worse, and the whole house seemed to exist under a perpetual storm cloud.

    It was nearly June, and the days were growing heavier and hotter as Havencrest Preparatory Academy''s annual sports day approached.

    Most of the events were already full-except for the girls'' three-thousand-meter

    race.

    The ss president stood at the front of the room, nearly shouting herself hoarse, but not a single girl volunteered. With a resigned sigh, she was about to write her own name on the signup sheet when someone suddenly stood up.

    "I''ll do it," said Citrine, striding over and neatly filling in her name.

    Joyce nced at Citrine''s slight frame, even thinner than her own, and looked genuinely worried. "Are you sure? The three-thousand isn''t for the faint of heart¡ª it''s practically torture!"

    Citrine just smiled. "Thanks, but I can handle it."

    Hearing her confident reply, Joyce''s relief was almost overwhelming. She grabbed Citrine''s hands, her eyes shining with gratitude. "Citrine, you just saved my life!"

    Citrine opened her mouth, a little baffled. "...Is it really that serious?"

    Back at their desks, Amelia finally exined, "You don''t know this, but Joyce is hopeless when ites to sports. Every single event she enters, shees deadst. By taking her ce, you really did save her."

    Now Citrine understood Joyce''s dramatic reaction.

    Amelia suddenly remembered something and turned to Citrine, surprised. "Wait, why''d you sign up for the three-thousand? Weren''t you just saying you weren''t interested in any of the sports day stuff?"

    She remembered how, when she''d tried to get Citrine to sign up with her, Citrine had refused every time.

    Citrine looked a little sheepish. "Well... I just thought it might be kind of fun to try." In the past, she would never have joined something like this. But just now, she''d suddenly thought of that beautiful disy cab at home, the one that took up an entire wall.

    Even though it already held a handful of her awards, it still looked so empty.

    She wanted to see what it would feel like to fill that cabpletely, just once.

 Chapter 126

    Amelia didn''t think too much about it and took Citrine''s words at face value. "See, if you''d just decided this sooner, we could''ve been training together for weeks! But hey, it''s not toote." The thought of the two of thempeting side by side made Amelia giddy with excitement.

    Citrine nodded. "Yeah, we''ll head to the downtown stadium together that day."

    The Havencrest Preparatory Academy''s sports meet was being held right across from Havencrest Technical College, at the city''s central stadium.

    On Monday, since it was on the way, Citrine had her driver pick up Amelia from her house, and the two of them headed to the stadium together. It didn''t take long before they arrived.

    The sun was particrly harsh that day-bright and almost blinding. Citrine had ditched her jacket for a simple white crop tee and a pair of loose shorts, her slender, pale legs catching the sunlight. She drew more than a few admiring nces from the crowd of students milling around.

    Even though her outfit was minimal, her beauty was impossible to ignore.

    A group of guys walking by couldn''t help but stare. One of them nudged his friend, eyes wide. "Dude, do you know her? She''s gorgeous."

    His friend took a look, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he shrugged it off. "Someone who looks like that? She''s gotta be from Elegance Peak Academy. No way she''d give us Havencrest Tech guys the time of day. Trust me, don''t get any ideas. Last time, we tried talking to one of them and just ended up as the punchline of their jokes."

    The first guy grimaced, as if remembering something unpleasant. He shook his head, ncing at Citrine again. "Yeah, you''re probably right. Still, what a waste- she''s stunning, but she''s from Elegance Peak."

    Citrine, oblivious to their conversation, only heard Amelia''s endless chatter in her

    ear.

    All the way from the car, Amelia''s gaze never left Citrine. She kept up a steady stream ofmentary: "Citrine, you are seriously so pale. And honestly, I don''t want to sound weird, but your figure is unreal."

    She reached out, and after checking to make sure no one was watching, gave Citrine''s leg a quick, admiring squeeze. "So smooth, too."

    "Seriously, what w did God even give you? You''re beautiful, smart, there''s not a single thing wrong with you."

    She sighed theatrically, "If I were a guy, I''d marry you in a heartbeat."

    Then, with a wistful look, Amelia added, "If only I looked like you."

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh. "Why the long face?" she teased.

    Then, her voice softened. "Amelia, you''re you. There''s no one else like you in the world, and to me, you''re beautiful."

    Amelia knew Citrine was only trying tofort her, but she waved her off. "Thanks, Citrine. I dunno, I''ve just been in a slumptely-my skin''s a mess, and I keep breaking out."

    She ran a hand over her face, looking frustrated.

    Citrine didn''t say anything, but she quietly made a mental note of it.

    Soon after, the opening ceremony for the sports meet began.

    The event kicked off with a dance performance.

    Citrine''s eyes widened in surprise when she recognized the lead dancer-then it clicked. Elegance Peak Academy and Havencrest Technical College were both co-hosting this year''s sports meet with Havencrest Prep.

    Ever since Regina had been thrown out of the Carmichael family''s old estate, Citrine hadn''t seen her once. She never expected they''d run into each other at the sports meet.

    Amelia noticed Citrine''s gaze lingering on the stage and nudged her. "Hey, do you know her?"

    Citrine nodded. "More than just know her-she''s the granddaughter Mr. Carmichael adopted."

    She paused, then added quietly, "And for some reason, she really seems to have it out for me."

 Chapter 127

    Amelia hadn''t been paying much attention, at least not until Citrine''s next words. Only then did she really focus on the lead dancer''s face on stage, her gaze turning a little colder. "Citrine, has she been giving you a hard time at the Carmichael family''s house?"

    It wasn''t hard for Amelia to picture Citrine, newly returned to the Carmichaels, quietly enduring mistreatment without daring to speak up.

    Citrine paused, realizing that Amelia was genuinely concerned about her. She smiled, trying to reassure her friend. "Don''t worry. She''s not exactly in a position to bully me."

    Truthfully, Citrine had never bothered to take Regina seriously.

    Now that Regina had already been kicked out of the Carmichaels, any lingering resentment Regina might have was useless-Citrine doubted she''d have the chance to make trouble. And even if she tried, Citrine had plenty of ways to put her in her ce.

    The opening ceremony wrapped up after about half an hour.

    It was time for the athletes topete in their chosen events.

    Citrine had only signed up for the three-thousand-meter run, and hers wasn''t until the final day.

    Amelia, on the other hand, had registered for every event she was good at- almost the entire roster.

    So that morning, Citrine trailed along beside Amelia, cheering her on at every turn. By noon, Citrine''s voice was so hoarse she could hardly speak, and Amelia''s events still weren''t over. Finally, Citrine waspletely out of steam.

    "How many events did you sign up for, anyway?" Citrine asked, a mixture of disbelief and mock usation in her voice.

    She''d never, in her entire life, seen anyone sign up for this many events at a sports meet.

    Just then, Amelia finished herst event of the morning and came back, only to be greeted by Citrine''s exhausted, usatory re.

    Amelia rubbed the back of her head, then burst outughing. "Citrine, I''ve never seen you look so defeated before."

    It was kind of adorable-and a little hrious.

    If only she had a camera, Amelia thought, she''d love to capture this rare side of Citrine forever.

    "All right, Citrine, to make it up to you, lunch is on me, okay?" Amelia felt a pang of guilt thinking of how Citrine had cheered herself hoarse all morning.

    Citrine blinked, considered for a moment, and said, "Deal. Then I want noodles from that ce next to the stadium-the super-sized bowl."

    "Sure thing. No problem."

    Amelia was already bracing herself for a hefty bill, but when they arrived and she saw the prices on the wall, she paused, unexpectedly moved. Her heart softened, and her eyes stung a little.

    Doing her best to keep her voice steady, she ordered, "Two super-sized beef noodle bowls, please."

    The restaurant, newly opened, was running a special-two giant bowls of beef noodles for just twenty bucks. It was so cheap, it was barely more than what Amelia usually spent on a single meal.

    Amelia wasn''t stupid. She knew Citrine had done it on purpose.

    Her Citrine always so thoughtful.

    The ce was packed, but after some searching, Citrine finally found a six-person table with only four people at it. The two seats at the end, backs to the aisle, were still open.

    "Excuse me, are these seats-" Citrine looked up just as her gazended on a familiar face.

    Travis had noticed Citrine the moment she walked in, and honestly, he was surprised.

    After all, Regina would never have eaten somewhere like this. She''d always thought slurping noodles was uncouth-far beneath her high-society standards. Citrine stared at Travis for a moment before greeting him. "Hey, Travis."

    Travis''s face was unreadable. The man next to him, however, nced at Citrine in surprise.

    Citrine had no idea this guy was the Havencrest Technical College student who''d been gossiping about her earlier that morning.

    With Travis silent, his friend Sylvan assumed Citrine was just another girl trying to hit on him. Casually, he cut in, "Sorry, but Travis doesn''t add girls on social media."

 Chapter 128

    "But I can give you my number," Sylvan said, his eyes fixed on Citrine with the intensity of a wolf catching sight of prey.

    The two of them were standing close, and from this distance, Sylvan could truly appreciate just how beautiful the girl was.

    Inwardly, he couldn''t help but scoff at Travis''s poor judgment. How could anyone take a girl like this for granted?

    "I''m not¨D" Citrine started, a little flustered and about to exin herself, but before she could get another word out, Travis shot Sylvan a death re and cut in sharply, "Shut the hell up."

    "That''s my little sister, you idiot."

    As soon as he finished, he shot a look at the guys around him, and someone quickly made room by his side.

    Just then, Amelia returned from the counter, having ced their order. Citrine didn''t bother with pleasantries¡ªshe grabbed Amelia and led her straight to the two empty seats beside Travis. Citrine sat down right next to her brother, with Amelia on her other side.

    Amelia blinked, still a bit dazed by the sudden flurry of introductions and seat shuffling. Before she could process what was happening, Citrine had already nudged her into the seat.

    "That''s my brother, and these are a few of his friends," Citrine whispered in Amelia''s ear.

    Amelia nodded, starting to catch on.

    Citrine nced at the guys in front of Travis and politely introduced herself. "Hi, I''m Travis''s sister, and this is my friend."

    "Nice to meet you, I''m Sylvan," Sylvan answered, now looking considerably less cocky after learning who Citrine was.

    "Hey there, I''m Carney-your brother''s friend," chimed in the next guy.

    "And I''m Springer, also a friend of Travis''s," said the third.

    Once the introductions were done, Citrine turned to her brother. "So, are you guys here for the track meet too?"

    "Yeah." The word "brother" made Travis''s heart skip awkwardly. He looked away, ufortable.

    Just then, Sylvan seemed to remember something. He nced at Travis, curiosity lighting up his face. "Wait, Travis, I thought your sister was that Regina, the heiress at Elegance Peak Academy?"

    At the mention of "Regina," a cold glint shed in Travis''s eyes. His voice was icy as he cut in, "She''s not. Don''t bring her up."

    Everyone knew Travis couldn''t stand Regina. Realizing he''d touched a nerve, Sylvan quickly scrambled for a new topic.

    "Right, so-Citrine, what brings you and your schoolmates from Elegance Peak Academy to eat here? I''ve met people from your school before, and seriously, every guy and girl there acts like they''re royalty, looking down their noses at everyone. They even say eating pasta is too ''uncivilized'' for their refined image. But you, you''re nothing like those stuck-up snobs."

    Sylvan rambled on, not giving Citrine a chance to jump in. When he finally paused for breath, Citrine spoke up atst.

    She looked at Sylvan, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Well, have you considered that maybe I''m not actually from Elegance Peak Academy?"

    Sylvan squinted at her, sizing her up, then shook his head with certainty. "No way. You''re way too pretty not to be."

    "I''ve met plenty of girls from Elegance Peak Academy, and every one of them is polished from head to toe-a little high-maintenance, sure, but all of them are gorgeous."

    "But you? You''re even more stunning. Plus, that aura of yours-you just look like you belong at Elegance Peak."

    Sylvan knew a bit about Travis''s family-the Carmichaels, after all, sent their kids to elite schools-so he was even more convinced.

 Chapter 129

    Aside from Sylvan, the other two were just as certain that Citrine went to Elegance Peak Academy.

    Citrine had no idea why these three were so convinced she was from Elegance Peak Academy, and for a moment, she felt awkward under their scrutiny.

    Noticing the difort flicker in Citrine''s eyes, Travis shot Sylvan a quick look and jumped in to rify on her behalf. "She''s not actually from Elegance Peak Academy."

    "No way, Travis. If she''s not from Elegance Peak, don''t tell me she goes to Havencrest Technical College with us? I''d definitely have heard if someone this gorgeous was on campus."

    The thought that Citrine might be from Havencrest Preparatory Academy never even crossed Sylvan''s mind.

    "She''s not with us at Havencrest Tech either," Travis replied evenly.

    He knew exactly what Sylvan was thinking¡ªand honestly, it made sense. If Elegance Peak Academy and Havencrest Technical College were notorious rivals, then Havencrest Prep was like a parallel universe-never intersecting.

    Elegance Peak was a private school, ranked second among all the top schools in Havencrest, and its graduation rate trailed only just behind that of Havencrest Preparatory. Most of its students were the privileged sons and daughters of the city''s elite-kids born with silver spoons in their mouths who carried themselves with an air of entitlement, unted their decent grades, and looked down on students from Havencrest Tech. They''d even show up at Tech just to stir up trouble, with some boldly dering that Havencrest Tech kids were nothing but trash.

    Havencrest Preparatory Academy, on the other hand, was the city''s top public high school, boasting the highest graduation rate around. Every single student there had wed their way in through relentless exams and cutthroatpetition, a testament to just how outstanding they were. Frankly, they saw themselves as being above petty rivalries with Havencrest Tech, and most didn''t even acknowledge the Tech students'' existence.

    Meanwhile, students at Havencrest Tech tended to steer clear of those from Prep as well. If they ever did cross paths, Prep kids would look at them like they were something unsavory, desperate to keep their distance as if being nearby might bring bad luck.

    That''s why Sylvan couldn''t even imagine a Prep student stooping to hang out with the likes of them. The possibility that Citrine might be from Prep didn''t even register.

    Everyone turned to Travis, eager for answers. Sighing, Travis decided to just put it all out there. "She''s from Havencrest Preparatory Academy."

    "What? Havencrest Prep?" Sylvan''s jaw practically hit the floor as he nced from Travis to Citrine. "I must be dreaming," he finally managed. For him, sitting at the same table as a Prep student was a huge deal-something to brag about for ages.

    But what really blew Sylvan''s mind was Citrine herself. She was nothing like the image of a Prep student in his head. He always pictured them as nerdy bookworms-thick ck sses, dull, uptight, and painfully boring.

    Citrine couldn''t helpughing at the way Sylvan stared at her, eyes wide as saucers. "I was about to tell you earlier, but you talk so much, I never got a chance to get a word in."

    Looking sheepish, Sylvan ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry about that. I guess I can be a bit of a chatterbox."

    Suddenly flustered, he fumbled with his fork, which slipped from his hand and ttered to the floor. He gave a nervous chuckle. "Sorry, first time sharing a meal with a Prep student-I guess I''m a little on edge."

    Realizing what an awkward scene he''d made, Sylvan rushed to make amends. "Sorry again, I really didn''t mean to judge. It''s just you''re so stunning, you don''t fit at all with what I always pictured a Prep student would look like. And you don''t seem to mind hanging out with us Tech kids, so I just assumed..."

    Amelia couldn''t resist jumping in. "Let me guess-you think all Prep students are just boring nerds wearing thick sses, right?"

    Caught out, Sylvan looked embarrassed.

    Amelia grinned, gave Citrine''s shoulder a friendly pat, and said with pride, "Well, you''re dead wrong. She''s actually top of our junior ss-everyone at Prep calls her a genius."

    Sylvan looked at Citrine, genuine remorse in his eyes. "Sorry for judging you. I guess I really missed the mark."

    None of them noticed the flicker of pride in Travis''s gaze as he looked at Citrine.

    Travis''s other two friends were just as shocked, but they both knew better than to think he was making this up. No one would joke about something like that.

 Chapter 130

    Carney shot a nce at Citrine, an apologetic mix of guilt and reluctant admiration in his eyes. "Sorry, sis. It''s just¡ªwhenever the folks from Primus Academy see anyone from Havencrest Tech, they act like we''re contagious or something. You''d think we were lepers by the way they keep their distance."

    Springer chuckled and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and those Primus Academy honor roll types have never bothered talking to us. So we never figured you''d be hanging out with anyone from there."

    Citrine and Amelia exchanged a look-then both burst outughing.

    Amelia couldn''t help herself. The thought of Citrine, the straight-A student, getting mistaken for a Havencrest Tech kid-of all things-was just too much.

    After lunch, Citrine and Amelia made their way back to the stadium.

    The afternoon events kicked off quickly. Citrine had cheered herself hoarse that morning, so Amelia insisted she stay in the rest area for the rest of the day.

    Citrine didn''t put up much of a fight and took a seat as instructed.

    Just then, the loudspeaker crackled to life, announcing the lineup for the men''s 3000-meter race. Citrine''s eyes lifted ever so slightly when she heard Travis''s

    name.

    The race began. Alongside Travis were runners from both Elegance Peak Academy and Havencrest Prep.

    By the halfway point, everyone was visibly gging-except Travis. He was well ahead of the pack, barely breaking a sweat, his faceposed, a sheen of perspiration just starting to show. He looked like he still had plenty left in the tank.

    There was no question-he was on track to take first ce.

    But as they entered the finalp, disaster struck.

    Citrine watched as Travis ran neck and neck with a boy from Elegance Peak Academy. In the blink of an eye, the other boy elbowed Travis aside and cut into hisne. Travis stumbled, caught his foot, and crashed hard onto the track.

    Citrine''s heart leapt into her throat.

    Seconds ticked by as the boy who''d shoved Travis sprinted across the finish line, arms raised in victory.

    But Travis still hadn''t gotten up.

    That''s when Citrine knew something was wrong.

    She shot up from the stands and raced toward the track, only to be stopped by an event official. "Sorry, miss, you can''t go onto the field while the race is still in progress."

    Citrine stared straight at him, her anxiety barely contained. "Didn''t you see? Number 7''s been down for a while-he''s hurt."

    She expected that to be enough, but the official just nced at Travis and shrugged, his tone dismissive. "Oh, him? He''s with Havencrest Tech. If he falls, he falls." There was open disdain in his eyes at the mention of the school.

    Citrine''s patience snapped. "If I''m not mistaken, this meet is being hosted by Havencrest Prep, Elegance Peak, and Havencrest Tech together, isn''t it? You''re supposed to be impartial, but it sure doesn''t look that way."

    Her voice grew colder. "If something happens to him and you stood by, are you ready to answer for it?"

    The man just smirked, clearly unmoved. He looked her up and down, then raised an eyebrow. "You seem awfully concerned about that boy. What is he to you- your boyfriend?"

    When Citrine didn''t back down, the official scoffed, "Rx. Those Havencrest Tech jocks are all muscle, no brains. He''ll walk it off."

    Citrine''s eyes hardened, her tone cutting. "Watch your mouth. He''s my brother."

    She took in the Havencrest Prep badge pinned to his chest and said, voice icy, "And just so you know, you''ll be out of a job by tomorrow."

    Without waiting for a reply, Citrine shoved past him and sprinted onto the track. Travis was curled up, clutching his calf. He looked up, startled to see her. "What are you doing here?" His voice was hoarse from pain.

    Realizing how bad he must look, Travis turned his face away, embarrassed.

    "Don''t move. Let me see."

    Citrine ignored his protest, kneeling down beside him. She gently rolled up his pant leg and ran her fingers along his calf.

    "You''ve pulled a ligament. We''re going to the hospital."

 Chapter 131

    Not long after Citrine left, the man tasked with keeping order suddenly received a message from the school, informing him he''d need toe in tomorrow toplete his resignation paperwork.

    His hand trembled. He immediately remembered what that girl had said to him just moments ago; all the color drained from his face.

    It was her. It had to be her.

    ***

    Meanwhile, after dropping Travis off at the hospital, Citrine suddenly remembered something. After thinking it over, she sent Manley a quick message.

    CICI: Uncle, Travis is hurt. He''s at Havencrest Prime Medical Center.

    Manley replied almost immediately.

    Manley: He''s not dead, is he?

    Citrine stared at the message, her expression torn. She wasn''t quite sure if Manley had sent that by mistake.

    She hesitated, then typed another message.

    CICI: Uncle, I have something I need to take care of in a little bit. Would you be able toe pick up Travis?

    Manley: Are you there too?

    Seeing his reply, Citrine finally let out a breath of relief. At least this time Manley hadn''t said anything weird-otherwise, she wouldn''t have known how to respond. Before she could say anything else, another message popped up.

    Manley: Give me ten minutes.

    ***

    By now, Travis had just finished getting patched up. As the nurse helped him out of the treatment room, he spotted Citrine sitting in the waiting area, looking out for him.

    The moment she saw him, Citrine stood and walked over, taking the nurse''s ce by his side.

    Travis had been through his share of injuries growing up, and he''d always toughed it out alone. This was the first time anyone had apanied him to the hospital, bustling around to help.

    He opened his mouth, ufortable, and mumbled, "Thanks."

    Citrine''s smile was sudden and bright. "Don''t mention it. You''re my brother, after all."

    Travis looked at her, and for some reason, her tone sounded almost yful-like a little sister teasing her big brother. The tips of his ears turned pink. He nced away, awkward.

    Thinking of how badly he''d embarrassed himself in front of her during the match today, Travis felt a surge of frustration.

    He peeked at her, hesitant. "Um... do you think I''m useless? Since I didn''t win a medal?"

    Citrine blinked, then smiled. "You did great. Besides, that other guy tripped you on purpose. If not for that, first ce would''ve been yours."

    Travis watched her smile, and suddenly memories he thought he''d buried long ago surfaced in his mind.

    Sharp words from the past echoed painfully:

    "Travis, you''re hopeless. How could you mess up something so easy?"

    "Travis, you''re a disgrace to the Carmichael family. You''ll never measure up to your father or your uncle."

    "You''re just a worthless nobody. We never should''ve bothered taking you in."

    "Don''te to my school anymore, big brother. My friends allugh at me because you go to Havencrest Tech. You make me look bad."

    "Can''t you be better, big brother? Everyone else''s brother is amazing. You just y video games all day."

    Travis stared at Citrine, her gaze clear and honest¡ªno hint of disappointment or contempt.

    He realized, with a jolt, that she actually meant what she said.

    For years, the Carmichael family hadbeled him a lost cause. This was the first time someone had told him he was already good enough. Something indescribable stirred in his chest.

    He was about to say something-anything-when he suddenly noticed the man in the wheelchair at the entrance.

    "What are you doing here?" Travis shot his so-called father a cool nce, surprise flickering in his eyes.

    After all, his father had never shown him a shred of affection. Travis could drop dead out on the street, and Manley wouldn''t shed a single tear. Whenever Travis

    got sick, Manley never even asked after him, let alone visited.

    The only exnation had to be Citrine.

    And sure enough, Manley''s next words confirmed it.

 Chapter 132

    "Just checking if you''re dead yet."

    Manley barely spared Travis a nce before turning his attention to Citrine.

    "Uncle," Citrine greeted him politely.

    The way these two interacted was downright bizarre. Citrine suddenly wondered if calling Manley over had been the right decision.

    Manley grunted in acknowledgment, then, out of nowhere, asked her, "Why aren''t you epting it?"

    Citrine instantly understood what he meant, but for a moment, she didn''t know how to reply.

    Ever since they''d exchanged numbers, Manley had been sending her two thousand dors every day. Taking it once was one thing, but epting it every single time made Citrine ufortable¡ªespecially since she''d only met this uncle a handful of times.

    After a long pause, she finally answered, "Uncle, I haven''t even spent thest two thousand you sent me."

    "You haven''t spent it yet?" Manley frowned, sounding almost disappointed. "If you can''t spend it, try harder. Or just save it. Either way, take it."

    Was her uncle secretly some kind of millionaire? Citrine stared at him, a little stunned and not sure if she shouldugh or feel awkward. She swallowed and said, "I really don''t think I should, Uncle."

    "Just listen and take the money," he insisted, leaving no room for argument.

    Seeing how determined he was, Citrine gave up protesting. She decided she''d talk to Raymond about it when he got home.

    Meanwhile, Travis watched the two of them,pletely lost.

    "What money?" he asked Citrine, curiosity written all over his face.

    Before Citrine could answer, Manley cut in, "None of your business."

    "Maybe focus on your broken leg instead of everyone else''s affairs." Travis: "..."

    As if he couldn''t hear the sarcasm. Manley was always so stingy with him-he''d get maybe twenty bucks for spending money if he was lucky. Now he was handing Citrine two thousand at a time? Travis couldn''t believe it.

    If he hadn''t seen the paternity test himself, he''d start to think he was adopted.

    That evening, when Citrine got home, she told Raymond about the whole thing.

    Raymond was taking a drink of water at the time, and nearly spat it out.

    "He added you on Messenger and sends you money every day?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "Has he lost his mind?"

    Raymond knew perfectly well how much Manley hated the Carmichael family. He couldn''t shake the feeling that Manley was up to something.

    His expression darkened as he looked at Citrine, his tone serious. "Your uncle isn''t exactly a good person. Still, if he''s just sending you money, there''s probably no harm¡ªyou can ept it. But if he ever asks you to do something for him, promise me you won''t."

    "He doesn''t seem like a bad person," Citrine said honestly. Unlike with the rest of the Carmichael family, Manley didn''t seem to harbor any ill will toward her. Her instincts were usually spot-on.

    "Just keep your guard up," Raymond said, ruffling her hair. He wasn''t about to tell Citrine about all the Carmichael family''s dirty secrets-she was just a kid.

    But if Manley ever tried anything with Citrine, Raymond would make sure he paid for it.

    Elsewhere, Manley had just gotten home when his phone rang-it was Raymond. "Hey, big brother," Manley said, sounding almost amused, as if he already knew what wasing.

    Raymond''s voice came through, cold as ice.

    "Cut the crap, Manley. I don''t care what you''re up to-if you want toe after someone,e after me. But if you so much asy a finger on Citrine, I swear I''ll kill you."

    Raymond hung up before Manley could reply. Standing in the darkened room, Manley let out a lowugh.

    "Raymond, you lucky bastard," he muttered. "Why is it always you who ends up with everything good?"

    Half his face disappeared into the shadows, his emotions unreadable.

 Chapter 133

    A few dayster, it was finally Citrine''s turn to run the three-kilometer race.

    She was grouped with two girls from Havencrest Technical College, two from Elegance Peak Academy, and another student from her own school, Primus Academy.

    As the announcer read out the names of the participants, Citrine couldn''t help but notice a familiar one-Regina''s. Talk about bad luck; her nemesis was in the same heat.

    Just as Citrine was thinking how fate always seemed to bring them together at the worst moments, Regina strode straight toward her.

    "Citrine, you''ve really ruined my life this time."

    Regina was dressed head-to-toe in athletic wear, nked by a small entourage of guys and girls. The moment she spotted Citrine, her face darkened with barely contained fury.

    If it weren''t for this wretched girl, Regina wouldn''t have been kicked out of the Carmichael family. She''d lost a whole year''s allowance and couldn''t even afford a designer handbag anymore. Just a few days ago, when she went out with her friends, everyone was unting thetest purses¡ªexcept her, stuck with an old one. She''d be the butt of their jokes.

    Citrine barely lifted her eyelids and let out two crisp words: "Serves you right."

    Her voice rang out, clear and cutting, pping Regina across the face harder than any hand ever could.

    Regina''s jaw clenched in fury. This damn girl''s words could cut deeper than a knife.

    But then, remembering that Citrine had actually signed up for the three-kilometer race, Regina''s lips curled into a sly smirk. This was her chance to crush Citrine, once and for all. Long-distance running was her specialty.

    Regina looked Citrine up and down with obvious amusement and shook her head, her tone thick with malice. "With those scrawny arms and legs, you''d better watch out-you might get trampled out there."

    Citrine just shed her a dazzling smile, the kind that could infuriate anyone. "Thanks for the concern. You''re right, though-someone as sturdy as you shouldn''t have to worry about getting knocked down."

    Regina''s face flushed a deep red. "Who are you calling sturdy?"

    "Obviously you," Citrine replied, her gaze lingering on Regina''s waist for a pointed second before she added, utterly deadpan, "You must be eating welltely."

    "Citrine Carmichael, shut your mouth!" Regina all but shrieked.

    If it weren''t for this wretched girl getting her kicked out of the Carmichael family, she wouldn''t have been binge eating, wouldn''t have put on these extra pounds.

    "You just wait," Regina spat, her voice trembling with rage. "I''m taking first ce today. Let''s see if you''re still smiling after that."

    With that, she stormed off.

    It was then that Citrine noticed the guy trailing after Regina¡ªa tall one, about six feet, practically falling over himself to massage her shoulders and legs, eager to please.

    Regina really had herself a loyal littlepdog.

    Citrine immediately recognized him. He was the same guy who''d tripped Travis on purpose during the earlier race.

    A thought shed through her mind, and she called out, "Regina, how about a bet?"

    Her voice was clear and confident, turning heads all around the track.

    Chin held high, Citrine locked her eyes on Regina''s retreating back, waiting for her answer.

    Regina stopped and turned. "What kind of bet?"

    "On the three-kilometer race," Citrine said. "If I win, I want yourpdog here to apologize to Travis in front of everyone and admit he tripped him during the men''s race."

    No sooner had the words left her mouth than the guy next to Regina started to fidget nervously.

    "I didn''t! What are you talking about?" he shouted, voice cracking.

    "You know exactly what you did," Citrine shot back, her eyes icy.

    The guy looked like he wanted to argue, but Regina grabbed his sleeve to calm him down. She whispered something in his ear, and after a moment, he nodded reluctantly.

    Regina didn''t waste time analyzing why Citrine was suddenly standing up for Travis. Maybe she was trying to win his favor. Who cared?

    Regina just sneered, "Fine. But if you lose, you''re out of the Carmichael family for good."

 Chapter 134

    She''d grown up under the old man''s watchful eye, trained as if she were a boy, and had always excelled at sports.

    Someone like Citrine-so slight she looked as if a stiff breeze could blow her over ¡ªwouldn''t stand a chance against her, even if there were two of her.

    This time, Citrine was doomed to lose.

    "You''re awfully persistent, aren''t you?" Once again, Regina was insisting that she should get out of the Carmichael family. She really was fixated on kicking Citrine out, but her wish probably wouldn''te true today.

    "No problem." Citrine epted the challenge without hesitation.

    After all, she had no intention of losing.

    As soon as the warm-ups ended, the race began.

    The starter''s pistol cracked, and Citrine shot forward.

    The sidelines were packed with students from Primus Academy. Amelia was among them, and even students who barely knew Citrine were cheering her on.

    They''d made a banner for her, and in an instant, Citrine became the center of attention, stealing the spotlight from everyone else.

    "Go, genius!"

    "Let''s go, Citrine!"

    "You''re the best, Citrine!"

    The shouts from the crowd came in waves.

    The students from Elegance Peak Academy, standing nearby, turned to watch the spectacle.

    One of them scoffed, "Since when are the Primus Academy bookworms this united?"

    "Yeah, I thought all they did was bury their noses in books."

    "And that girl they''re rooting for-Citrine, number one-she doesn''t look like much."

    "Skinny arms, scrawny legs-she''ll be lucky to finish the three-thousand-meter race, let alone ce."

    Their voices dripped with scorn. The ringleader opened his mouth to keep going, but the next moment, he felt a chill at his neck as someone grabbed him by the back of his cor and hoisted him up.

    "Shut your damn mouth or I''ll make you regret it." Springer red, practically growling as he swung the guy off his feet.

    "Get lost. Don''t let me see you around here again." With that, Springer tossed him aside.

    The group shrank back, realizing they were outmatched. They scurried away without another word.

    Meanwhile, Regina was far ahead, leading the race.

    Citrine, on the other hand, kept a steady, unhurried pace. She didn''t bother speeding up, even as the others raced past her.

    Just then, Travis appeared, hobbling over on crutches.

    He scanned the track, searching for that small, familiar figure, when someone pped him hard on the shoulder.

    "Travis! What are you doing here?" Sylvan tried not tough at the sight of Travis with his crutches, but couldn''t quite hide his amusement.

    He tapped the crutch. "Only you would show up to a sports meet with a busted leg."

    "Can''t argue with that," Carney and Springer burst outughing.

    "Laugh all you want," Travis grumbled, jabbing them with his crutch.

    "Hey, Travis, you''rete! Your sister just made a bet with Regina because of you. If you''de sooner, maybe you could''ve stopped her. Regina wins the women''s three-thousand-meter every year, and your sister-look at her, she''s all skin and bones. She''s not going to make it." Sylvan finally remembered the reason for his concern, his expression turning uncharacteristically serious.

    Travis turned his eyes back to the track. This time, he spotted the small figure at the very back, with Regina far ahead-an enormous gap between them.

    He tore his gaze away and looked at Sylvan, his tone grave. "What did they bet?"

    Sylvan exined, "If your sister wins, the guy from Elegance Peak who tripped you has to apologize and admit he did it on purpose. But if she loses, she has to leave the Carmichael family."

    Travis''s face darkened with every word, but underneath that icy exterior, for the first time in years, he felt a flicker of warmth.

    Carney nced at the field, his brows knitting in concern. "Travis, your sister''s really putting herself on the line for you. If she loses, it''ll all be over."

 Chapter 135

    Travis watched the small figure racing around the track, his emotions a tangled knot of worry and protectiveness.

    He knew thisp would leave his little sister exhausted-he couldn''t help but feel a pang of concern.

    In that moment, he made a silent vow: *Even if she loses, I won''t let her face the fallout alone.* If worst came to worst, he''d walk away from the Carmichael family with her. He''d take care of her, no matter what.

    Sure, Manley could be stingy, but he had his generous days. And after all these years, Travis had saved enough-it wouldn''t be hard to support the two of them.

    Citrine was the smallest girl on the track, and since she''d been trailing behind for most of the race, no one expected her to win. Travis didn''t, either.

    That is, until Sylvan suddenly shouted, "No way-she''s passing them!"

    Travis snapped his gaze back to the track. Citrine, who''d been running at a steady pace, suddenly surged forward in a burst of speed. With every stride, she picked up momentum, overtaking one runner after another.

    Tension silenced Travis. All he could do was watch her intently, silently praying nothing would go wrong.

    With just onep to go, Citrine was running even faster, closing in on Regina, who''d been half ap ahead. Yet Citrine''s breathing remained steady and calm.

    "She''s been pacing herself for a final sprint," Springer observed, quietly impressed by Citrine''s stamina.

    "Unbelievable! If I didn''t know she was Primus Academy''s top schr, I''d swear she was a track athlete," Sylvan eximed, high-fiving Springer in excitement.

    "Her endurance is unreal," Carney added in awe.

    Regina nced nervously over her shoulder as Citrine closed the gap with rming speed. Her own breathing faltered.

    *No way. This can''t be happening.*

    As Citrine drew closer, Regina''s forehead broke out in even more sweat.

    *I can''t lose. Not now.*

    Just as Citrine was about to overtake her, Regina subtly stuck out her right foot.

    Citrine had always been wary of Regina, but she hadn''t expected her to stoop to such a cheap trick.

    As she reached Regina, Citrine suddenly elerated, stomping hard on Regina''s foot as she passed.

    Regina''s face went pale, pain shooting up her leg. *Damn you, Citrine*, she cursed inwardly, gritting her teeth and forcing herself to keep running.

    By now, Citrine had left everyone far behind. She was the first to cross the finish line.

    Thunderous cheers erupted from the crowd. The moment she left the track, students from Primus Academy hoisted her up, tossing her in the air and catching her again, over and over.

    Regina crossed the finish line a full minuteter. Seeing Citrine surrounded by adoring fans, she muttered bitterly, "It''s just first ce. What''s the big deal? Look at her, acting all smug."

    The results were clear: the winner had been decided.

    Travis, leaning on his cane, made his way over. Regina spotted him immediately.

    She recalled that she and Travis had only met a handful of times; there was hardly any bond between them. Regina guessed he must be here for her.

    "Travis!" she called, excitement bubbling up at the thought that he hadn''t paid her any attention in so long. She ran toward him.

    But Travis didn''t even nce her way. He walked straight past her and stopped in front of Citrine. "You must be exhausted. Here, have a drink," he said, pulling out a bottle of water and gently dabbing the sweat from Citrine''s forehead with a tissue.

    Citrine epted the water without hesitation, taking a sip and letting Travis wipe her brow.

    They looked every bit the picture of a close-knit brother and sister.

    Watching them, Regina felt a sharp stab of envy. Sure, Travis was just a nobody from Havencrest Technical College, but it still stung to see him care for Citrine more tenderly than he ever had for her.

    Citrine, surprised to see Travis there with his cane, asked, "What are you doing here?"

    Travis looked away awkwardly, not wanting her to feel guilty. Thinking quickly, he fibbed, "Oh, it''s just Sylvan. He had an event today and insisted Ie cheer him on." He shot Sylvan a meaningful look.

    "Yeah, that''s right," Sylvan chimed in instantly, catching on without missing a beat.

 Chapter 136

    "Oh, I see." Citrine hadn''t really expected an answer-she''d only asked out of casual curiosity.

    Before Travis could reply, a sharp voice sliced through the peaceful atmosphere.

    Regina red at Citrine, practically spitting with outrage. "How can you be so close to her, brother?"

    A flicker of disgust passed through Travis''s eyes as he looked at Regina.

    His demeanor shifted entirely; the warmth he''d shown Citrine vanished, reced by a cold indifference as he faced Regina.

    "First of all, I''m not your brother," he said, his tone icy. "Second, who I spend time with is none of your business. And for the record, Citrine is my real sister. If I want to be close to her, that''s not your concern." He made a point of emphasizing "real sister."

    Regina''s expression twisted. "But you barely even know her! We grew up together," she protested, her voice quivering with aplicated mix of resentment and hurt. She might hate that Travis was a student at Havencrest Technical College¡ªshe often called him a useless gamer-but she couldn''t deny how much she''d enjoyed the attention he used to give her.

    Even though they''d recently fallen out, the thought of Travis caring for someone else¡ªespecially Citrine, whom Regina despised most was unbearable.

    Suddenly, a sharp sting ran across the top of her foot, and Regina''s indignation gave way to wounded self-pity. "Don''t you care what she just did to me?"

    Travis''s gaze grew even colder. "You brought it on yourself. Citrine could''ve broken your foot and you''d still deserve it. Serves you right for being so spiteful."

    He''d wanted to p Regina the moment she started causing trouble.

    Regina shot Citrine a venomous look, her eyes were brimming with hostility. "You''re really going to defend her? You''ve only met her a handful of times."

    Travis let out a humorlessugh, his eyes shing with open malice. "Doesn''t matter how long I''ve known Citrine. I can tell she actually sees me as family. You, on the other hand, you''re just a parasite¡ªalways taking, never giving anything back."

    He knew exactly what game Regina was ying.

    Regina went pale. No one had ever spoken to her so harshly; her eyes filled with tears, and she looked about ready to cry. Just then, the boy who''d been hanging around her earlier stepped forward, shielding her protectively.

    He red at Citrine and Travis. "Picking on Regina¡ªreal tough of you two."

    The reminder of their bet shed through Citrine''s mind. Looking Regina straight

    in the eye, she said coolly, "Before you start crying, aren''t we forgetting our wager?"

    Regina''s face drained of color, and even the boy behind her faltered.

    Not about to let them squirm out of it, Citrine pressed on, "Don''t even think about backing out. There were plenty of witnesses, remember?"

    Just then, Amelia arrived with a group of students from Primus Academy. Hearing Citrine''s words, she chimed in without missing a beat, "Everyone from Primus Academy saw what happened. No point trying to deny it."

    The students behind her echoed in agreement.

    "That''s right, we''re not pushovers."

    "If you try to weasel out of this, Primus Academy won''t let Elegance Peak Academy off the hook."

    Cornered by the growing crowd, Regina clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. Out of options, she looked to Lucian Hollister for help.

    Lucian, who''d always trailed after Regina like a loyal puppy, immediately stepped up to defend her.

    He gritted his teeth. "Nobody said we''d back out. No need to gang up like this."

    Then, shooting a reluctant nce at Travis, he added, "Sorry," his apology stiff and forced.

    Travis barely spared him a nce, making it clear he didn''t think Lucian was worth his attention.

    Jaw clenched, Lucian finally admitted-right there, in front of everyone that he''d deliberately tripped Travis during the race.

    Afterwards, the school decided to give him a major demerit.

    In the end, the boys'' three-thousand-meter trophy went rightfully to Travis. The race official responsible for the event was also disciplined for unfair judging and failing to prevent foul y.

    When it came time for the awards, Citrine easily clinched the girls'' three- thousand-meter title, walking away with both a trophy and a cash prize of three thousand dors.

    At Havencrest Preparatory Academy, athletic achievements were always rewarded with prize money¡ªa tradition Citrine found especially appealing.

 Chapter 137

    After the school sports day, Citrine and her brother Travis suddenly found themselves getting along better than ever.

    That Sunday, Travis happened to have a basketball game and invited Citrine toe watch. As soon as she arrived, a group of Travis''s close friends greeted her and ushered her to a prime seat right in the middle of the bleachers. Someone had even gone out of their way toy down a soft cushion for her¡ªthe seat was sofortable she almost melted into it.

    Citrine nced around, but Travis was nowhere in sight. "Where is he?" she asked after scanning the court for a while.

    "Coach called him over before the game," Sylvan exined. "He sent us to wee you."

    With a proud grin, Sylvan grabbed severalrge bags from his friends behind him and presented them to her. "Here you go-water, some soda, snacks-we brought everything you might need."

    Citrine stared at the three bulging bags in disbelief, her eyes widening. "This is... way too much! There''s no way I can eat all of this."

    Sylvan just made a yful face. "No worries, just pick whatever you like. Travis told us to make sure you''re taken care of."

    "We''ll leave you to it!" With that, the group headed off.

    The game hadn''t started yet, and Citrine soon grew bored. She rummaged through the bags until she found a snack she liked, nibbling on it as she watched the court.

    A few minutester, Travis and his teammates jogged out in their jerseys. Travis spotted Citrine right away and waved at her from the court. Citrine mouthed, "Go get ''em, big bro," giving him a silent cheer.

    No one else noticed, but Travis caught it perfectly. He couldn''t help but smile to himself.

    The opposing team then came out and Citrine immediately recognized them. Oh boy, it was Clifford and his usual crew, plus a few unfamiliar faces. As soon as they stepped onto the court, they started showing off. Laird even turned to Travis''s team and gave a mocking thumbs-down.

    Travis barely reacted, but Sylvan looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. "Who do these jerks think they are?" he fumed, taking a step forward as if ready to start a fight. "I''m gonna wipe that smug look off their faces."

    Travis ced a steadying hand on Sylvan''s shoulder. "Don''t lose your cool." He looked across at the other team, his voice icy. "We''ll see who the real losers are. Settle it on the court."

    Clifford shot Travis a dark re, clearly unimpressed. "Fine by me. Let''s see if Havencrest Technical College has anyone who can actually y," he sneered, his words dripping with disdain for their school.

    Right then, the referee arrived. "Alright, let''s get this game started!" With a sharp whistle, the match began.

    Both teams sprang into action. Travis made the first move, snatching the ball and making a long pass to one of his teammates. Their team moved with seamless coordination; even in the opening minutes, they were already taking the lead.

    Across the court, Clifford quickly realized he''d underestimated his opponents. He snapped to attention, and his team started to catch up, the score inching closer.

    By the time the first half was over, both teams were drenched in sweat, not daring to let up for a second. At halftime, Travis''s team was up by only one point-24 to 25. The game couldn''t be closer.

    During the break, the teams retreated to their benches. Citrine was waiting for Travis near the benches, but before he showed up, Clifford found her instead.

    Citrine cursed her luck under her breath and was about to slip away when Clifford called out to her.

    He looked genuinely surprised to see her there. "What are you doing here?"

    As he spoke, he caught sight of the bag of snacks and drinks in her hand.

    He couldn''t help but smirk to himself. He was convinced she''de looking for him to apologize, just like she always did whenever they fought at least, that''s how it had always gone before. Clifford was already used to it.

 Chapter 138

    Laird and Gideon, standing behind Clifford, both turned their eyes to Citrine, wearing the same smug, "Just as we thought" expressions.

    Clifford''s original n had been to teach the brat a lesson, but remembering he had wrongly used her earlier, he felt a rare pang of conscience. Maybe he''d let her off easy-just this once.

    With an impatient wave, Clifford thrust his hand out toward Citrine. "Alright, hand it over," he snapped.

    "Huh?" Citrine blinked, momentarily lost.

    "Don''t y dumb. You came here to make peace, didn''t you?" Before she could react, Clifford snatched the stic bag from her hands and started passing bottles to the guys behind him.

    "I came to make peace? In your dreams." The realization hit her all at once, and rage flooded her veins. She couldn''t hold back a curse. "As if! Who do you think you are?"

    "This isn''t for you. If you want water, go buy your own." Citrine yanked the bag right out of Clifford''s hands and grabbed the bottles back from Laird and Gideon. "Or what, is the mighty second son of the Iverson family so broke he has to steal from me?"

    She shoved Clifford aside, and he staggered, nearly falling before the guys behind him caught him. That was enough to set him off. "What the hell is your problem, Citrine? I''m trying to give you a way out, and you throw it back in my face?"

    He hadn''t seen her in a while and foolishly thought she might''ve mellowed out. Clearly, she was even more unruly than before.

    Laird shot her a sneer. "Drop the act, Citrine. You came here just to suck up to Clifford. Who else would you be here for?"

    Clifford didn''t say a word, but it was obvious he agreed.

    Just then, Travis and his friends strolled over. Citrine shot Clifford''s group a cold, mocking look. "Don''t tter yourselves."

    Without another word, she picked up her things and hurried over to Travis.

    "Here, have some water." Citrine handed a bottle to Travis, then passed the rest to his friends.

    Travis took it but didn''t drink, ncing curiously at Clifford''s group. Something about their faces seemed off. "What were you talking to them about?" he asked.

    Citrine didn''t even look back. "Nothing much. They''re just barking, as usual." Before the words had even settled, Clifford stormed over, eyes zing. He hissed through gritted teeth, "Citrine, who the hell are you calling a dog?"

    Travis stepped forward, brow furrowed, and instinctively shielded Citrine behind him.

    But Citrine wasn''t intimidated. She poked her head out from behind Travis, meeting Clifford''s furious re with calm defiance. "I''m talking about you. If you don''t believe me, go find a mirror-see for yourself if you don''t look like a mad dog right now."

    "You-!" Clifford was so angry he could barely speak.

    What really stung, though, was hearing Citrine call someone else "brother." The word rattled around in his brain, pushing aside his anger over the "mad dog" insult. He stared at her, unable to get the image out of his mind. "Why did you call him ''brother''?"

    Clifford felt a wave of self-loathing. He used to hate when Citrine called him that¡ª he''d even threatened her, telling her not to call him "brother" in public. But she''d never listened, always chasing after him, calling "brother, brother" without a care.

    Only now did Clifford realize that ever since Citrine had her falling-out with the family, she hadn''t called him "brother" at all. Not once.

 Chapter 139

    Citrine could tell Clifford was oddly fixated on this, and she couldn''t help but find it amusing. "We''re family¡ªand rted by blood. Why shouldn''t I call him my brother?"

    At that, Travis''s expression shifted as something clicked for him. He knew a little about Citrine''s background, and since Clifford''s surname was still Iverson, Travis quickly figured out who this guy was.

    "So, you''re Citrine''s old brother?" Travis shot Clifford a cold look, his eyes shing with a dangerous edge.

    Travis had heard plenty about how poorly Citrine was treated by the Iverson family, so he didn''t have the slightest affection for anyone from their n.

    Citrine thought for a moment and corrected him, "Not quite. Ex-foster brother, actually."

    Ex-foster brother, for crying out loud.

    Sylvan nearly lost it trying to stifle hisughter.

    Clifford, on the other hand, practically choked when he heard that. Since when did this brat get so good at getting under his skin?

    He couldn''t be bothered to bicker with her, so he turned his attention to Travis and the group hovering behind him, making no effort to hide the contempt on his face.

    "Really, Citrine? You call this sort of guy your brother? Don''t you find it embarrassing? Look at the people trailing behind him¡ªthey''re all rejects from Havencrest Technical College. If you hang around trash like them all day, aren''t you worried you''ll turn into garbage yourself?"

    The wordsnded hard. Sylvan and his friends looked like they''d been pped, but there was nothing to say-everything Clifford said was true, and they knew it. Travis''s pupils shrank; all the color drained from his face. His fists clenched so tightly that his nails bit into his palms, but he didn''t even feel the pain.

    He couldn''t bring himself to meet Citrine''s eyes, terrified he''d see disgust or disappointment there.

    Because deep down, he knew-he really was a nobody at Havencrest, just another delinquent with nothing to show for himself.

    Sooner orter, Citrine would start to look down on him too, especially since she was so exceptional.

    That thought made fear and self-doubt surge inside him, threatening to swallow him whole.

    He was so caught up in his own misery that he barely registered Citrine''s clear, icy voice until it cut through his thoughts.

    "I''m warning you: watch your mouth," she said, her tone sharp as ss. "My brother is not trash-he just never had anyone patient enough to teach him. And the students at Havencrest aren''t garbage either; they''re just walking a different path from you, that''s all. If you have so much time to judge others, maybe you should worry about your own sister''s grades. If I recall, she failed pretty badly on herst exam."

    Citrine red at Clifford, making no attempt to hide her disgust.

    "Come on, Travis. Let''s go." Without waiting for a reply, she took Travis''s hand and led him toward the lounge on the other side of the hall.

    Travis stared at her, still reying everything she''d just said. His heart, which had felt so heavy moments before, suddenly felt unbearably soft.

    When Citrine fell silent, Travis grew anxious, worrying she might actually be upset with him. He apologized in a small, tentative voice, "I''m sorry, Citrine. I embarrassed you."

    Citrine looked at him, mystified. "Are you kidding me? You''re my brother-how could you possibly embarrass me? Since when do sisters get ashamed of their brothers?"

    Travis was speechless.

    She frowned, exasperated. "Honestly, for a guy with your reputation, shouldn''t you at least stand up for yourself when someone tries to put you down? Next time, don''t just let them talk-make them eat their words."

    So that''s what she was mad about. Travis''s eyes lit up, and warmth flooded the corners of his heart. He ruffled Citrine''s hair and softened his voice. "Guess I''m not living up to my reputation as a troublemaker, huh?"

    "Travis, what''s gotten into you? You sound like a wimp." Sylvan, who''d been quietly fuming after being called a reject, suddenly shuddered at Travis''s gentle

    tone.

 Chapter 140

    That was actually pretty creepy, to be honest.

    Carney rubbed his arms, shivering a little. "Dude, can we switch topics? I''ve got goosebumps everywhere."

    "Get outta here," Travis shot back, but he was in a good mood and didn''t even bristle at Carney''s teasing tone.

    Springer grinned. "Travis, I didn''t peg you for the overprotective brother type. Honestly, you should just embrace it-go all-in on being the doting sibling."

    Travis didn''t snap back this time. He seemed to be thinking about it, and after a brief pause, he shrugged. "Not the worst idea." So what if he spoiled Citrine? She was his sister, after all.

    The others looked at the brother and sister, a little envious.

    Truth be told, if any of them had a sister like Citrine, they''d probably want to spoil her rotten too.

    Besides, when Citrine spoke up for Havencrest Technical College earlier, it had hit them hard-inspiring and moving them in a way they couldn''t quite shake off. Even now, the memory of her words still left a strong impression.

    After halftime, Travis and the guys headed back onto the court.

    The tension between the teams was palpable-one nce and you could feel the sparks flying.

    Travis fixed Clifford with a cold stare, and Clifford didn''t back down an inch.

    From the moment the game started, Clifford seemed hell-bent on going after Travis, like he''d brought all their off-court friction onto the court with him.

    But Travis wasn''t about to be intimidated, meeting Clifford''s aggression head-on. Maybe it was the conversation with Citrine that fueled him, but right now, there was only one thing in Travis''s mind: winning.

    In the end, Clifford''s personal vendetta andck of teamwork cost his side dearly -they lost, and badly.

    As soon as the game ended, Laird and Gideon hurried after Clifford.

    Gideon eyed Clifford with concern. "Clifford, what was up with you out there?"

    Laird wasn''t as diplomatic, his frustration obvious. "Why were you gunning for Travis the whole time?"

    "If you hadn''t fixated on him, we probably would''ve won."

    The words were out before Laird realized how harsh they sounded. He quickly apologized. "Sorry, Clifford. I didn''t mean it like that."

    Clifford looked at him, lips pressed tight. "No, you''re right. It was my fault."

    "Sorry doesn''t cut it. You-" Another teammate red at Clifford, about to say more, but Gideon shot him a warning look and he fell silent.

    Clifford crouched down, reying the whole thing in his mind. He couldn''t quite exin his behavior-he''d just kept going after Travis, forgetting that this wasn''t a solo sport.

    Even now, every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Citrine calling Travis "big brother." Clifford felt like he was losing his mind.

    He was supposed to hate Citrine-hate hearing her call him "brother."

    Besides, he already had a sister. Jete was all he needed.

    Yes, Jete. She was his real sister.

    Clifford kept repeating that to himself, and after a long while, the strange anger burning inside him finally faded. His emotions slowly settled.

    After the win, Citrine joined the team''s celebration before heading out. Just as she was about to leave, she called out to Travis. "Hey, from tomorrow on, I''m keeping an eye on your studies. Weekly check-ins from now on."

    "What?"

    She repeated herself, a little louder. "I said, I''m helping you with your schoolwork. And I''ll be checking in every week."

    "Uh, okay." Travis nodded, a little dazed.

    He''d barely agreed when it hit him: that pile of barely-passing test papers stuffed in his desk drawer.

    His grades were so bad his teachers had practically fainted from shock. Was Citrine really ready for this?

 Chapter 141

    Saying she wanted to help Travis study wasn''t just talk-Citrine truly meant it.

    From then until finals week, she showed Travis the real meaning of follow- through, not with words, but with action.

    For a solid week, Citrine would head straight over to Havencrest Technical College after scarfing down dinner at home, barely giving herself time to catch her breath.

    Travis lived on campus, and to save him themute and give him more time to cram, Citrine insisted oning to him every single evening for their tutoring sessions.

    One evening, just as she finished dinner and was about to dash out the door as usual, Raymond called after her.

    "Citrine, where are you off to?" He frowned, concern etched on his face. For days now, she''d been rushing out the door after dinner-tonight made it a week straight.

    Citrine was sitting on the entryway bench, slipping on her sneakers. Without thinking, she replied, "I''m heading over to help Travis with his studies."

    Raymond looked momentarily taken aback. "So, all this running around-early out,te back¡ªjust to tutor him?" There was a strange feeling brewing in his chest.

    "Yep." Citrine''s answer was simple and direct.

    That kid, Raymond thought, can''t even bother toe here himself and still has the nerve to make Citrine traipse back and forth. What if she wears herself out? She never even fussed over her own dad this much. Raymond mentally added another tally mark to Travis''s ount.

    Still, since when had those two gotten so close?

    He couldn''t help but ask, "When did you and that kid start hanging out so much?"

    "He''s my brother, isn''t he?" Citrine replied, grabbing her bag. For once, there was a rare note of warmth in her voice when she spoke about Travis.

    But I''m still your father.

    Raymond almost blurted it out, but the words stuck in his throat.

    It hit him then. Citrine always addressed the other members of the Carmichael family politely, but with him and his father, her tone was different-more distant.

    He''d never quite understood it before, but realization dawned. They were the only two in the family who hadn''t weed Citrine from the start. No wonder she found it so hard to feel close to them. Polite, yes. But affectionate? Not really.

    A faint bitterness flickered in Raymond''s heart.

    By now, Citrine had arrived at Havencrest Technical College.

    She and Travis had arranged to meet in an empty ssroom. As she approached, she heard a burst of shouting inside.

    "Go, go, go!"

    "Left, on the left!"

    "Ah, so close!"

    Citrine pushed open the door. Travis and his friends were sprawled across the desks, shouting at their phones, swearing under their breath.

    The moment they saw her, the group leapt to their feet, cramming their phones into their pockets like a bunch of kids caught red-handed.

    "Hey, sis..." The guilty tone in their voices said it all.

    Citrine just stared at them in silence, her presence alone enough to make the room tense.

    Travis couldn''t read any anger or annoyance on her face, which only made him more nervous. He swallowed hard-this was somehow even worse than getting caught skipping ss by a teacher.

    "I''m sorry," he blurted, shame washing over him. He felt like a total screw-up. Surely his sister was done wasting time on him now.

    "It was our fault," Sylvan piped up, head hung in remorse. "Travis wanted to study, but we talked him into ying games with us."

    "Yeah, don''t me Travis. If anyone''s at fault, it''s the three of us," Carney and Springer chimed in.

    Citrine ignored them and turned to Travis. "So, was the game fun?"

    His head bobbed once in involuntary agreement, then he immediately shook it furiously.

    Citrine shot him a look, then smiled. "No tutoring tonight. Tonight, we''re ying games."

    "...What?" Travis was stunned. "You''re joking, right?"

 Chapter 142

    "Let''s go," Citrine said, already heading for the door.

    Halfway there, she suddenly nced back over her shoulder at Sylvan and the others. "You all shoulde, too."

    With that, Citrine strode out of the ssroom, not looking back.

    Sylvan and the rest stared at her retreating figure, convinced they''d somehow upset her. They shot Travis a series of desperate looks, silently pleading, *What do we do now?*

    Travis didn''t say a word he simply followed Citrine out, answering their question with action.

    The group exchanged nervous nces, then hurried after him.

    It wasn''t until Citrine led them into a gaming caf¨¦ that Travis realized she waspletely serious.

    "Find a seat. Let''s y a round," Citrine said, already sliding into a chair in front of one of theputers. She looked at them expectantly.

    Travis'' eyes widened in surprise, a little hesitation in his voice. "Citrine, the games we y aren''t exactly beginner-friendly."

    The main thing was, the rest of them had been ying for ages. If they identally crushed Citrine and made her upset, none of them would feel good about it.

    "I know how to y," Citrine replied, fingers already flying over the keyboard as she logged in.

    Travis happened to catch a glimpse of her screen-it was the familiar loading screen for "Final Showdown," their favorite 5-on-5 shooter. He froze.

    "How did you know we y this game?" he asked.

    "I heard the soundtrack earlier when you guys all got wiped out," Citrine said, not missing a beat.

    Travis scratched his head, a little sheepish. "We just lost because we got careless, that''s all," he tried to exin.

    Before he could say more, Sylvan suddenly let out a loud exmation. "No way! Sis, you''re ranked at our level?"

    The rest of the group crowded around to peek at Citrine''s screen. Right next to her username was the "Champion" badge-just one star shy of their own ranking.

    Citrine caught their stunned looks, a hint of pride glimmering in her eyes. "Believe me now? Let''s y."

    Gaming was one of Citrine''s few real passions. Getting a little recognition for it felt pretty great.

    Truthfully, they were all itching for a match anyway, and seeing Citrine so confident, they quickly found their ownputers and logged in.

    They added each other as friends, and Travis promptly started up a match.

    Final Showdown was a fast-paced team shooter-five yers per side, taking down bosses and battling another five-person squad. Win, and bragging rights were yours.

    As the only girl on the team, Citrine was used to the guys being extra careful with her¡ªat least until they ran into the first big boss.

    The moment they saw it was an L8-level boss, Travis and the others tensed, preparing to coordinate their attack. But before anyone could even call out a n, a single gunshot echoed through their headphones. The L8 boss went down with a perfect headshot.

    Every one of them just stared, stunned by what they''d witnessed.

    Normally, taking down a boss of that level meant at least a few of them would get hit-lose some health, maybe even go down. But Citrine had pulled it off with one shot and hadn''t taken a scratch.

    Sylvan let out a low whistle. "Wow. That was fast, sis. Incredible."

    Carney grinned. "With headshots like that, you''re going to carry us to victory." Springer nodded. "Your aim is unreal."

    They clustered around their screens, firing offpliments in genuine awe.

    Travis pressed his lips together, not saying much, but a quiet pride sparked in his eyes. *Of course she''s amazing,* he thought. *She''s my sister, after all.*

    And Citrine only kept surprising them-match after match, she carried the whole team.

    They tried a few more rounds, hoping to prove themselves, but the results were always the same: some of them were wiped out, others barely hanging on, and in the end it was Citrine who pulled them through every time.

    After the fifth round, Sylvan tore off his headset, slumping into his gaming chair in mock defeat. "I''m done. Sis, you''re just too good. The rest of us don''t even get to y anymore!"

 Chapter 143

    They''d all assumed they''d be carrying Citrine through the game, but it turned out she was the one carrying them.

    Watching Citrine dominate the match, Carney grew curious about her stats and clicked onto her profile. Her match history was hidden, so he couldn''t see her records¡ªbut he did spot something that nearly made him shout in surprise.

    Excited, Carney pulled Citrine over and pointed at the "partnered yer" section on her profile, practically bursting as he asked, "Hey, do you know this CrimsonFirst?"

    Oh my god, that was *the* Crimson First-the highest-ranked yer in the whole game! The moment the others heard the name, they all looked over, their faces a blend of disbelief and awe.

    Anyone who yed *Summit Showdown* knew CrimsonFirst, the undisputed number one on the servers. In the gamingmunity, Crimson First was basically a legend-half the yer base idolized them.

    Carney was one of those obsessed fans. He stared at Citrine, eyes glowing with excitement, barely daring to hope.

    Finally, Citrine nodded. "Yeah, I know them."

    Everyone''s gaze zeroed in on her. Before anyone could bombard her with

    questions, Citrine added casually, "That''s my main ount."

    "What?" Carney was sure he''d misheard. He blurted out again, "You mean- you''re CrimsonFirst?"

    "That''s right." Citrine nodded and, to prove it, logged into her main ount on theputer. The truth was undeniable.

    The entire group gaped at her. Shock didn''t begin to cover how they felt.

    "Is there anything you *can''t* do?" Sylvan finally managed, staring at Citrine as if seeing her for the first time. "Top of the ss, fastest runner, and now the best gamer too?"

    Carney was beside himself. "No way, you *have* to sign something for me before you go! I need to post it online-my friends will never believe I actually met my idol!" He was obsessed with Crimson First, always rewatching fan-posted videos of her matches every night.

    Seeing Carney cling to Citrine, Travis made a face and shoved him away. "Hey, back off. My sister''s off-limits."

    Now that Citrine was suddenly the most popr person in the room, Travis felt a pang of protectiveness.

    Carney grinned shamelessly. "She''s our sister too, you know!"

    Travis immediately stepped in front of Citrine, shooting Carney a warning re. "Dream on. She''s *my* sister."

    "Oh,e on. Don''t be so childish!" Citrine couldn''t help butugh at their bickering.

    Travis pointed at Carney. "He''s the childish one."

    Carney retorted, "No, *he* is."

    ...

    Once the two finally calmed down, Citrine grew serious. "Game''s over. Now it''s time to hit the books with me."

    Travis didn''t protest. "Whatever you say."

    Citrine nced at Sylvan and Springer, raising an eyebrow. "You two as well."

    Carney, still starstruck, agreed instantly-anything to spend more time with his idol.

    With everyone on board, Sylvan and Springer couldn''t very well refuse, so they nodded too.

    Since there was still time left in the day, Citrine led them back to the ssroom at Havencrest Technical College.

    Most of the students at Havencrest had been all but abandoned by their families ¡ªand in turn, had given up on themselves. They''d stopped paying attention in ss since freshman year.

    So Citrine had no choice but to start tutoring them from the very basics.

    Even though they were humanities majors and Citrine''s focus was science, it didn''t matter to her-she could handle it all.

    The group settled in, figuring they might as well stick it out, even if they didn''t expect much. But twenty minutester, to their surprise, it actually started to make

    sense.

 Chapter 144

    Here''s the adapted English novel passage, fully localized for Western readers per your requirements:

    That day, after their extra study session wrapped up, everyone left with their minds buzzing-feeling both exhausted and strangely fulfilled.

    The next morning, when Amelia heard that Citrine had been tutoring the group, she insisted on joining in too. "My freshman year foundation is a mess," she confessed. "I really need the help."

    Citrine was delighted to have Amelia onboard and agreed without a second thought.

    That afternoon, they arrived at Havencrest Technical College. It was only then, as they were chatting in the hallway, that Amelia learned something surprising.

    "Wait-seriously?" Amelia''s eyes widened in disbelief. "You''re all humanities

    majors?"

    Sylvan, thinking she didn''t believe him, nodded with a patient smile. "Yeah, really. All of us. We''re not messing with you."

    Amelia knew they wouldn''t lie about something like this, but she still frowned, confused. "That''s not the important part. The thing is, Citrine''s a science major."

    "Wait, your sister''s a science major?" someone echoed in surprise.

    "But didn''t she just help us with history yesterday?" another chimed in.

    "Yeah, and she was great at it."

    "Maybe she just remembers it all from freshman year," Amelia mused, after a moment''s thought. "Makes sense, right?"

    The others nodded. That seemed usible enough.

    Just then, Citrine returned from the restroom and caught the tail end of their conversation. "Remembers what?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

    Sylvan filled her in. "Citrine, we just found out you''re a science major."

    Citrine nodded,pletely unfazed. She figured they were worried she might not be able to help them, so she smiled reassuringly. "Don''t worry. I already taught myself all the humanities material from freshman to senior year. I''ve got you covered."

    The room fell silent. Travis and the others stared at Citrine, mouths hanging open, utterly speechless.

    Amelia was just as stunned, but then she remembered Citrine''s near-perfect grades. Suddenly, everything clicked into ce.

    The others seemed to graduallye to terms with it too. After all, they''d already seen plenty of evidence that Citrine was a little superhuman-this just exined it even more.

    Still, Amelia''s curiosity got the better of her. "So, Citrine, if you already mastered all the humanities on your own, why did you choose to major in science? Physics and chemistry are brutal! If it were me, I''d have stuck with the easy stuff."

    Citrine thought for a second, then shrugged. "Honestly? The humanities just didn''t challenge me. Science felt a little more interesting."

    Amelia: "..."

    Travis: "

    Sylvan: "..."

    Springer:

    Carney: "..."

    Was this how geniuses humiliated the rest of humanity? The things they''d been sweating blood over for years-Citrine found them ''not challenging.''

    Was she secretly a learning machine in a past life?

    Maybe it was Citrine''s words, or maybe just her presence, but suddenly the whole group seemed lit up with new energy. They studied like their lives depended on it, refusing to waste even a minute of their breaks.

    And that intense drivested for days.

    Eventually, Citrine couldn''t help but intervene. "Guys, seriously. Take a break. You''ll burn yourselves out."

    Travis looked at his sister, then squared his shoulders with renewed

    determination. "Don''t worry about me, Citrine. I can keep going." He was

    determined to be worthy of standing at her side.

    Amelia dered, "Citrine, I love studying, and studying loves me. Starting today, my goal is to break into the top fifty."

    Sylvan grinned. "This time, I''m making myeback for sure."

    Carney added, "If our idol is this hardcore, I''ll just have to keep up-or die trying."

 Chapter 145

    Ever since thatst harrowing hypnosis session-when the nightmare had felt too real-Raymond hadn''t set foot in Dr. Yates''s office for weeks.

    But the dream haunted him, gnawing at his thoughts, refusing to let him rest. Today, unable to shake the unease, Raymond finally returned, desperate to prove to himself that it had only been a dream.

    He settled onto the reclined leather chair, letting his mind blur and drift. As the world faded, awareness returned¡ªthis time, inside a dpidated apartment block.

    He found himself in a grimy stairwell, the banister thick with dust, yellowing walls cracked and peeling, every surface stained and neglected. The corridor was choked with broken-down cardboard boxes and empty bottles, the detritus of lives long unkempt.

    Raymond had grown up in privilege, shuttled between exclusive clubs and pristine mansions. He''d never set foot in a ce like this, and the squalor made him wrinkle his nose in distaste.

    Suddenly, a door behind him mmed open. The ng of metal against wall echoed through the hallway.

    A gruff, broad-shouldered man stood in the doorway. His skin was weathered and ruddy, a threadbare winter coat hanging from his shoulders, and a half-empty bottle dangled from his hand. He jabbed a finger at a little girl-no more than two or three-his words slurred and venomous, spittle flying.

    "Useless brat! All you do is eat. Get out! If you can''t bring back any money today, don''t bothering back-just freeze out there and die for all I care!"

    It was winter, or close enough; the girl wore a faded, patchwork parka so thin it barely held any stuffing. Her back was to Raymond, her tiny frame swamped in the coat.

    She looked up at the man, craning her neck with effort. "I''m hungry." Her voice was barely a whisper, frail as a kitten''s mew.

    The man scowled, crouched down, and jabbed her forehead with a thick finger. "Hungry? Good-starve, then."

    He shoved her, and she toppled to the dirty floor.

    He red down from above, his eyes bulging with rage. "If you don''t bring home money¡ªif you let me and my boy go hungry-I''ll beat you to death, you hear me?"

    The girl pushed herself upright, small hands pressed to her stomach. She stared up at him, unblinking, the same quiet defiance in her eyes. "I''m hungry."

    "You little wretch-can''t you understand in English?" he snarled. "I''ll beat you senseless!"

    At that, the girl bolted for the stairs.

    She was so tiny, barely tall enough to reach a dining table. She''d barely run a few steps before the man hurled the bottle after her. It shattered at her feet, ss and booze sttering across the floor.

    She didn''t even have shoes, and as she ran, shards of ss pierced her bare feet.

    The man lumbered after her, but the girl only flinched and kept going, as if she couldn''t feel the pain. She stumbled down the stairs¡ªand then, suddenly, she slipped, tumbling hard at thending, where shey crumpled and motionless.

    This time, Raymond saw her face.

    "Citrine." His voice trembled as he whispered her name.

    Her eyes so calm, so empty-held the same distant, hopeless look as the woman he knew today.

    "Citrine, it''s me. I''m your father." Raymond''s chest ached, a dull, crushing pain. He rushed to her, desperate to help, but his hand passed straight through her body-like mist.

    "Citrine!" His voice broke with helpless agony. He watched the child, his heart twisting.

    She sat there with wild, matted hair, her skin ghostly pale, face sunken with hunger. Her hands, red and swollen with chilins, trembled in the cold. She couldn''t hear him-couldn''t see him.

    How could she be so thin? Raymond''s eyes burned, stinging with tears.

 Chapter 146

    At that moment, the man suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs. Raymond could feel Citrine''s whole body flinch.

    He instinctively stepped in front of her, trying to shield her, but it was useless¡ª neither of them could see him.

    The man looked down at Citrine, a cold smile tugging at his lips. "I thought you were dead. Turns out you''re still alive. Well then, get out there and make some money." With that, he turned and walked away.

    The door mmed shut. As soon as the sound echoed through the house, Young Citrine scrambled to her feet.

    But just as quickly, she copsed back down, her legs giving out beneath her. Raymond reached out to catch her, but his hand passed right through her like she was made of mist.

    He could do nothing but watch helplessly as blood began to seep through her socks, staining them red.

    Young Citrine sat on the stairs, her face scrunched in pain as she gritted her teeth and yanked out several shards of ss from her foot.

    When she finished, she limped upstairs, dragging a bulging bag of empty bottles and cardboard boxes down to the entryway.

    Outside, everything was nketed in white. The trees wore a fresh coat of snow.

    The ground, though, was littered with garbage and streaked with dirty slush and mud. To Raymond, it looked so filthy he couldn''t imagine stepping anywhere.

    "It''s freezing," Citrine shivered the moment she stepped out the door.

    She was just a child; the cold bit at her delicate cheeks, turning them bright red within moments.

    Still, Young Citrine pressed on through the biting wind, dragging her burden all the way to the recycling depot.

    "God above, a little thing like you out in this weather-what kind of monster would send you out here?" The owner of the depot hurried over when he saw her, snatching the bag from her hands and grumbling curses under his breath.

    "Thank you, sir. Could you weigh these for me?" Young Citrine just smiled up at him, her expression angelic and sweet.

    "Of course. Come on in," the man said, unable to stay angry in the face of her smile. Inside, he weighed her recybles. The total only came to a couple of dors, but seeing how pitiful she looked, he stuffed a few extra bills into her hand before she left.

    Citrine''s eyes were red as she clutched the money and headed out. But she didn''t go home. Instead, she made her way to the city''s busiest street.

    She squeezed the bills tightly in her fist, muttering under her breath, "If only I had a dad."

    Raymond''s heart ached.

    Just then, Young Citrine''s eyes lit up. She spotted someone across the street and, with a burst of hope, ran over to throw herself into his arms. "Daddy!"

    "Sawyer," Raymond breathed, stunned.

    But beneath the shock was something sharper-jealousy.

    Since Citrine had returned to the Carmichael family, she had never once called him "Dad." She had never clung to him with that kind of affection. But Sawyer got all of it.

    Sawyer looked at Young Citrine as if she were a stray puppy, pushing her away impatiently.

    Raymond''s heart twisted, and he silently cursed Sawyer, but Young Citrine didn''t seem to notice the man''s coldness. She just kept reaching up, persistent and hopeful.

    Eventually, Sawyer gave in. He took her hand, nning to walk her home. But when he caught sight of Young Citrine''s father, he changed his mind and brought her back to his own ce instead.

    For the next few days, Raymond watched as Young Citrine did everything she could to win Sawyer''s approval.

    And, to his surprise, it worked.

    In the end, Sawyer adopted her.

    At the time, Sawyer barely had a penny to his name and was drowning in debt.

    But after taking Citrine in, he did everything he could to care for her. Even if he went hungry himself, he always made sure she had something warm and filling to eat. The once frail little girl began to grow stronger and healthier, her cheeks rosy and round. As the months passed, the bond between Citrine and Sawyer only deepened.

    During that time, the sight Raymond saw most was the little girl standing at the window of their shabby apartment, waiting all day long for Sawyer toe home.

 Chapter 147

    Day by day, Young Citrine and Sawyer grew closer.

    Under the warmth of Sawyer''s affection, she blossomed her spirit andughter growing stronger with each passing week. There was something new in her once- calm eyes, a spark that hadn''t been there before.

    Time seemed to fly. They moved from a cramped apartment to a sprawling house with sunlit windows and widewns. By then, Sawyer had built a reputation as a sessful entrepreneur-people in town knew his name.

    Not wanting Citrine to feel lonely, Sawyer took her to a local children''s home, where she could choose two boys to be her older brothers. Citrine spotted Norton and Clifford immediately, and just like that, their little family grew.

    With her new brothers around, Citrine fully came out of her shell-livelier, more cheerful than anyone had ever seen her. The biggest surprise, though, was when the ever-considerate Citrine started showing a little attitude of her own, pouting and stomping her feet when things didn''t go her way. Sawyer and the boys

    couldn''t help butugh. It was a good sign.

    But then, one winter, everything changed.

    That day, Sawyer came home with a woman and a small girl in tow.

    Standing at the top of the staircase, Citrine caught sight of the two neers. For the first time, a pang of unease twisted in her chest.

    "This is your new little sister," Sawyer said, ncing up and motioning toward the girl nestled in the woman''s arms.

    Citrine didn''t even look at the little girl. She fixed her gaze on Sawyer below, her voice trembling with childish outrage: "Dad, I don''t want a sister! Make them leave!" She hurled her beloved teddy bear-Sawyer''s gift, her favorite-down the stairs in protest.

    But this time, Sawyer didn''t rush tofort her as he always did.

    "Citrine, that''s enough," he said, looking up at her with a warning in his eyes.

    From somewhere unseen, Raymond-her otherworldlypanion-watched the scene unfold, anger bubbling inside him. He''d never seen Citrine so upset, and it twisted his heart in knots. Scowling, he red at Sawyer and muttered bitterly, "Are you deaf? Get that woman and her daughter out of here!"

    Citrine shot Sawyer onest furious look before storming back to her room, mming the door behind her.

    Raymond followed, helpless and aching for her. He found Citrine curled up under the covers, shoulders shaking with muffled sobs. "Bad daddy," she whimpered. "I don''t want to talk to you ever again."

    Raymond wished more than anything he could give Sawyer a piece of his mind.

    Fortunately, after settling the new arrivals, Sawyer came upstairs.

    "Sweetheart, are you still mad at Daddy?" he asked quietly.

    Citrine turned away, refusing to answer. "Hmph."

    Sawyer noticed the tears glistening on hershes and, after a brief hesitation, scooped her into his arms. "Why are you crying, baby?"

    She still wouldn''t look at him, but her tears fell faster.

    Sawyer''s tone softened. He gently wiped her cheeks. "I''m sorry, okay? I promise I won''t be harsh with you again."

    He tried to make her smile, taking her small hand and pressing it to his own cheek. "Here, you can hit Daddy if you want."

    "I don''t want to hit you. It''ll hurt," Citrine whispered, her resolve already faltering. She cupped Sawyer''s face and nted a few quick kisses on his cheeks.

    Raymond watched the scene, fuming with jealousy.

    But things only got worse after that. The more time went on, the more Raymond wanted to strangle Sawyer.

    Sawyer''s words to Citrine changed, too. Instead offorting her, he scolded again and again:

    "Why can''t you just listen for once?"

    "Can''t you act your age and be considerate?"

    "Citrine, how could you bully your little sister?"

    "Auntie is so good to you-why would you say such awful things about her?"

    "How did I end up with a daughter like you?"

    "Apologize."

    After the woman and her daughter, Jete, moved into the Iverson household, Citrine became invisible. Even her once-devoted brothers drifted away, enchanted by the sweet, well-mannered new girl.

    Citrine was left the odd one out the only outsider in the Iverson family.

    Raymond was furious, powerless to change things. All he could do was watch as Citrine was med and misunderstood, time and again, by the people who were supposed to love her most.

 Chapter 148

    Sure! Here is a culturally localized, natural English adaptation of your excerpt, following all your instructions:

    It was Jete who had tripped and fallen, but when Young Citrine tried to help her up, Sawyer didn''t bother to ask what happened¡ªhe just started yelling at Citrine.

    Then there was Aline, that cruel woman, who would grab Citrine by the throat when no one was around, hissing insults at her. When Citrine showed Sawyer the angry red marks on her neck and tried to tell him what had happened, he used her of badmouthing Aline and scolded her instead.

    Incidents like these happened nearly every day. It hadn''t even been a year since that mother and daughter moved in, and already Sawyer''s attitude toward Citrine had grown colder and more distant.

    As the Iverson Group expanded, Sawyer spent less and less time at home. Whenever he did return, it was only to dote on Jete. Eventually, seeing how little Sawyer cared for Citrine, Aline began to openly mistreat her-sometimes denying her meals, sometimes hitting her. Even the household staff felt free to hurl insults at her.

    The once spirited and headstrong Citrine gradually lost the light in her eyes, until all that was left was a quiet, numb calm.

    When Citrine turned eight, Aline hired a piano tutor for her. At first, Citrine was enthusiastic about her lessons, her smile growing brighter by the day. Even Raymond, ever watchful, didn''t notice anything amiss.

    But after one particr lesson, the tutor lingered as the session ended, smiling as he leaned closer. "Citrine, would you let Uncle take a look under your dress?"

    By then, Citrine had learned enough about the world to understand what he meant. She shrank back, her voice trembling. "Sir, I... I don''t want to practice piano anymore."

    "You bastard! You animal! I''ll kill you!" Raymond''s face darkened with rage. He swung his fist, but¡ªas always-his hand passed right through.

    The next day, Citrine mustered her courage and went to see Sawyer.

    In a small, cautious voice, she asked, "Dad, can I stop taking piano lessons?"

    Sawyer didn''t even look up from his paperwork. "No."

    "But the teacher, he..." Citrine''s voice faltered as she tried to exin, but Sawyer cut her off with a cold bark. "Why can''t you learn to be more like your sister? Why must you always disappoint me?"

    Citrine flinched and left the room, her heart heavy with defeat.

    The piano tutor continued to visit every day for a year. Sometimes he''d whisper disgusting things to Citrine, other times he''d try to touch her. Raymond, powerless to intervene, could only watch as Citrine suffered, his own mind beginning to unravel.

    Then, one day, when the man reached for her again, Citrine quietly slipped a fruit knife from her sleeve and plunged it deep into his thigh.

    "Is this fun for you, sir?" she asked, grinning as blood poured down his leg.

    The man copsed, clutching his wound and squealing in pain. "Ah! Pull it out, please!"

    "Like this?" Citrine pressed the de in even deeper.

    Her gaze was wild, a manic glint flickering in her shadowed eyes. "If I kill you, would that be good?"

    "No, Citrine, stop-let me do it, I''ll kill him for you!" Raymond cried, his heart breaking at the sight.

    For the first time, the king of Havencrest-a man who hadn''t shed a tear when facing Weston''s brutal training, nor when he''d survived an assassination attempt -found himself weeping as he watched his daughter, driven to madness.

    If only he hadn''t left Citrine to fend for herself all those years. If only he''d been there, maybe this wouldn''t have happened.

    "You''re insane!" the man shrieked, scrambling toward the door like a worm.

    Citrine followed, arms crossed, stalking him as he dragged himself away.

    Just then, Sawyer arrived home and caught sight of the scene. His eyes went wide with shock, darting from the bloodied man to Citrine, his expression shifting in rapid session.

    "Citrine what are you doing? Stop it! Right now!"

 Chapter 149

    "Dad."

    Young Citrine''s voice trembled as she suddenly spotted Sawyer. The sickly smile she wore faded away, leaving only confusion and fear. She stared at him stubbornly, rushing to exin, "Dad, it was him-He touched me."

    She took a few timid steps toward Sawyer, reaching out her small, trembling hand, hoping he''d take it. But Sawyer jerked away without hesitation.

    "What''s wrong with you? Why are you so frightening?"

    He shoved Citrine aside, disbelief quickly twisting into disgust in his eyes.

    "What do you mean, ''he touched you''? Your Aunt Aline worked so hard to find you

    a world-renowned piano teacher, and now you''re using him of something so outrageous? You''re getting more out of hand by the day."

    It was Sunday, and themotion had drawn the entire Iverson family into the hallway.

    Jete caught sight of Citrine and let out a piercing shriek. "Ew, there''s blood on your hands! You''re scary!" She pped her hands over her eyes, backing away.

    Aline''s eyes widened in horror. She swiftly pulled Jete into her arms, ring at Citrine with open fear. "What''s wrong with you? Stay away from my daughter- Don''te any closer!"

    "Dad..." Citrine pleaded, turning to Sawyer, desperate to exin.

    "Stay right there. Don''t move." Sawyer''s icy voice cut her off, sharp as a winter wind, sending a chill through everyone in the room. He stepped protectively in front of Jete and Aline, shielding them from Citrine.

    Momentster, Norton and Clifford arrived.

    They took in the scene, their faces paling. Their first instinct was to check Jete; when they saw she was unharmed, they both let out a long sigh of relief. "Thank God, Jete''s okay."

    But when they turned their attention back to Citrine, their eyes zed with undisguised contempt.

    Norton sneered, "Citrine, how could you be so cruel? You''re just a kid, and already you go for a knife. What, are you nning to kill someone when you grow up?"

    Clifford, jaw clenched, threatened, "Citrine, you want to y with knives, fine¡ª hurt yourself if you must, but if you so much as touch Jete, I swear I''ll make you regret it."

    It was clear: To the family, Citrine was nothing but a curse.

    "Why doesn''t anyone believe me?" Young Citrine murmured, lost and hollow, her eyes gradually emptying of hope.

    After that day, Raymond watched as Young Citrine changed, bing more withdrawn, more vtile-almost unrecognizable.

    By the time she turned ten, the only person left by Citrine''s side was a girl named Alicia.

    One day, Jete set a fire that trapped herself, Citrine, and Alicia in a burning

    room.

    Sawyer arrived as the mes raged, but the fire was already out of control-he could only save one. Without a moment''s hesitation, he chose Jete, carrying her out to safety.

    Citrine watched them disappear through the smoke, the light in her eyes snuffing out, reced by utter despair.

    "You monster. You deserve to die." Raymond, witnessing the scene, couldn''t hold back his tears. The hatred in his eyes red-he truly wanted to kill Sawyer.

    Then he saw Young Citrine throw herself in front of Alicia to shield her from an explosion. Blood poured from Citrine''s ears, but even then, she did everything she could to push Alicia out the window to safety before crawling out herself.

    Suddenly, Raymond remembered all the times he''d brought up Citrine''s hearing in front of the Carmichaels. Every time he mentioned it, Citrine would deftly change the subject. Until now, he''d never understood why she avoided it. Now he realized -he''d been reopening a wound she never wanted to show.

    But even after surviving the fire, the Iversons used Young Citrine of setting it in the first ce. Her best friend, Alicia, stood up and pointed the finger at her too.

    That day, Young Citrine lost her only friend.

    On Citrine''s eleventh birthday, she identally pushed Jete. It was thest straw for Sawyer and Aline-they decided to send her away, overseas.

 Chapter 150

    Here is your culturally localized, natural English adaptation:

    The truth was, Jete had started it. She''d taken the giant teddy bear Sawyer had given Citrine and shredded it to pieces. That''s why Citrine shoved her. But afterward, Jete insisted that Citrine had destroyed the bear herself and was trying to frame her-and Sawyer believed her.

    "Dad, it wasn''t me. You have to believe me." Citrine''s voice trembled for the first time as she stared at the stuffing and scraps of fabric scattered across the floor, fear flickering on her face.

    Sawyer might not have realized what was happening, but Raymond saw it all too clearly. Citrine had sensed for a while now that Sawyer was nning to abandon her. She wasn''t begging for his trust; she was begging him not to send her away.

    For once, Sawyer didn''t scold her. He didn''t even respond to her plea-just reached out to gently ruffle Citrine''s hair, his voice unusually soft. "Citrine, you''ll be taken care of overseas. When the time is right, I''ll bring you home. Okay?"

    "Dad, it''s my birthday today." Citrine looked up at him, her eyes pleading, hoping for any sign of mercy.

    But Sawyer''s heart was stone. "Be good. We''ll celebrate together next year." Raymond watched as thest spark of hope vanished from Citrine''s eyes. She looked at Sawyer and asked quietly, "Dad, will I evere back?"

    Sawyer smiled and nodded. "Of course. This will always be your home."

    And with that, Raymond could only watch as they sent Citrine away.

    No sooner had she arrived in the new country than someone came to collect her.

    The bodyguard escorting her didn''t bother with introductions. He simply pushed young Citrine into the waiting ck sedan.

    The car drove straight to the docks and came to a halt. Apparently, they nned to continue by boat.

    Citrine frowned, uneasy. "Aren''t we going to a house? Why do we need a boat?"

    One of the men sneered. "House? Your family already sold you to us." Surrounded by his own people, he no longer bothered to hide his intentions.

    "That''s not possible." Citrine''s rm red and she tried to bolt, but before she could react, the two men grabbed her and dragged her onto the boat.

    "There''s nowhere to run. Everyone here works for us."

    "If you don''t want to get hurt, you''ll do as you''re told."

    They shoved young Citrine roughly into a bup sack. Raymond watched the scene unfold, eyes wide in shock.

    He remembered what his investigation had revealed: Citrine had been sent to Mirage Cay when she was eleven. If nothing went wrong, that was where they were headed now.

    Sure enough, Raymond''s suspicions were confirmed. They brought Citrine to a grand, old manor.

    The two men tossed her into a pitch-ck room. The door creaked open, but before Raymond could get a good look, all he glimpsed was an eerie green light flickering inside.

    He was about to follow, desperate to see what was inside, when suddenly, someone started calling his name.

    The voice grew louder, sharper.

    "Raymond, wake up!"

    His mind cleared, and in the next instant, Raymond''s eyes flew open.

    "What''s going on? You''ve been unconscious for ages." Yates frowned deeply, but let out a long breath of relief when he saw Raymond awake.

    "Quick-hypnotize me again." Raymond''s mind was still gripped by the memory of that terrifying room. He turned to Yates, urgency in his voice.

    Yates shook his head. "No, it''s too dangerous. Hypnosis shouldst no more than three or four hours at a time. You were under for five hours-I couldn''t wake you up no matter what I tried. It''s just too risky."

    "Do it!" Raymond shouted, his eyes cold and intense, radiating a pressure that was hard to ignore.

    All he could think about was whether Citrine was in danger in that room.

 Chapter 151

    In the end, Yates refused to hypnotize Raymond again.

    Seeing that Yates wouldn''t budge, Raymond had no choice but to suppress his anxiety and get up from the reclining chair.

    "What did you dream about just now?" Yates asked, his expression grave as he watched Raymond.

    Raymond didn''t answer, but Yates seemed to figure it out anyway. Instead of pressing further, he took a seat across from Raymond and changed the subject with casual small talk.

    "By the way, I never asked-what''s your rtionship with Citrine?" Yates had meant to bring it up thest time, but things had been too hectic.

    Now seemed as good a time as any to get to know his patient a little better.

    "Citrine?" Raymond picked up on the familiar way Yates referred to her. His gaze suddenly sharpened as he sized Yates up, countering, "And what''s your rtionship with Citrine?"

    "Well, it''s definitely closer than yours," Yates shot back with a crooked smile. "We''ve known each other for years. I''m not just her brother, I''m-" He cut himself off abruptly.

    Citrine hated it when he talked about her personal life. If she found out, she''d be furious.

    "You''re what?" Raymond pressed, frowning in obvious irritation.

    "That''s ssified," Yates replied, mping a hand over his mouth as if he''d never let the secret slip.

    Seeing that Yates had no intention of exining, Raymond let it drop.

    "So, what about you?" Yates asked, leaning forward. "What''s your rtionship with her?"

    Raymond''s eyes shed with pride. "I''m Citrine''s biological father."

    Yates''s face changed instantly, disbelief written all over it. "Wait, what? Isn''t Citrine the Iversons'' daughter? Since when does she have a biological father in the picture?" He knew a bit about the Iversons and their family history.

    Raymond''s expression darkened. At the mention of the Iversons, shes of his dream returned, sharper than ever, fueling the bitter anger in his eyes. "The Iversons? They''re nothing. Citrine has nothing to do with them."

    "Yeah, well, they''re a pack of blind fools if you ask me," Yates muttered. He''d heard enough about how the Iversons treated Citrine to have zero fondness for them.

    "But seriously, you''re really her biological dad?" Yates leaned in, studying Raymond''s features. There was a definite resemnce-enough that denying their connection would''ve sounded ridiculous.

    "Of course. Want to see a paternity test?" Raymond sneered, clearly resenting the doubt.

    Yates waved him off. "No, no, that won''t be necessary."

    With that, the light banter faded. Yates''s expression turned stern, and his tone carried an unmistakable warning. "Since you''re her real dad, I expect you to treat Citrine right. If you ever hurt her-even once-I swear, I won''t let you get away with it."

    Raymond''s voice was cold. "I am her father. No one cares about her more than I do. You don''t have the right to lecture me."

    He understood that Yates was trying to protect Citrine, but he couldn''t stand anyone acting as if their bond with her was closer than his. He was her father- end of story.

    With nothing more to say, Raymond stood up and strode toward the door. But just as he reached it, Yates''s deep voice stopped him.

    "Did you know Citrine is sick?"

    Raymond froze mid-step. His heart lurched.

    Citrine-sick? Since when?

    He spun around, eyes locked on Yates, desperation in his voice. "What happened to Citrine?"

 Chapter 152

    "She struggled with severe depression. There was a time she almost ended her own life¡ªif I hadn''t intervened, I don''t know what would have happened. She''s beening to me for hypnotherapy these past few years. I thought I''d helped her recover. But only a year ago did I realize she was pretending all along. Not only did she never get better-she''d gotten worse. She''s clever, Raymond. My hypnosis never worked on her, but she faked being under so convincingly that none of us suspected a thing."

    Raymond''s pupils contracted sharply. A stabbing pain shot through his chest. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough and hollow. "Do you... know why she''s depressed?"

    Yates shook his head. "I have no idea. Maybe something happened abroad, or maybe she just lost hope in life. She''s the kind of girl who bottles everything up inside. She''s guarded, never lets anyone in. I could never get her to talk."

    He paused, then looked at Raymond with a hint of encouragement. "But you''re her father. Maybe you''ll have better luck."

    Raymond''s hands trembled uncontrobly. No one knew better than him that Citrine didn''t trust him at all.

    Yates added gently, "Listen, you Carmichaels better treat her like royalty don''t make the same mistakes the Iversons did." His tone turned cold at the end.

    Raymond''s throat felt raw. "That won''t happen. As long as I''m here, no one in the Carmichael family will hurt her."

    Yates could see that Raymond genuinely cared about Citrine. With renewed patience, he said, "If you can, try to show her how much you all love her. She''s always been alone. I doubt she''s ever really experienced what it means to have a family. I get the sense she craves that, deep down-otherwise, she wouldn''t have sought you out."

    To Yates, Citrine was more than a patient-she was like a sister to him, someone he genuinely cared about. He hadn''t nned to share any of this with Raymond, but after seeing the man''s attitude that day, he took the risk, hoping Raymond could help Citrine find her way out of the darkness.

    "Thank you," Raymond said sincerely. No matter what, he was grateful Yates had told him the truth.

    Raymond left Yates''s office in a daze and didn''t make it home until dusk.

    When he finally arrived, Citrine had just returned as well. She took one look at him and her eyes widened in rm. "What happened to you?"

    Raymond made up an excuse on the spot. "It''s nothing. Just a rough day at work." But the moment he saw his daughter, he forced himself to snap back to normal. He straightened his tie, regaining that usual, meticulousposure.

    "All right, then. Get some rest," Citrine said with a nod, buying his story.

    Raymond watched as she turned to head upstairs, then called out to her on impulse, "Citrine, do you want the Carmichael Corporation?"

    Citrine froze. Her cool, clear eyes instantly turned icy.

    She looked at Raymond and gave a cold, mocking smile. "What, do you think I''m after yourpany?"

    "No, that''s not what I meant-" Raymond stammered, seeing her mood shift.

    But Citrine ignored him, throwing onest remark over her shoulder before disappearing into her room.

    "Rx. I have zero interest in your Carmichael Corporation. You don''t have to test me."

    After she was gone, Raymond ran a hand over his forehead, feeling more defeated than ever before. "That girl... she''s a little porcupine."

    He''d never been afraid of anyone in his life, but somehow, this young woman had managed to turn his whole world upside down.

 Chapter 153

    Ever since their unpleasant conversation the night before, Raymond had noticed that his daughter was clearly avoiding him¡ªor, at the very least, keeping her distance.

    Aside from mealtimes, she barely spent any time in the living room.

    Raymond had tried to exin himself on several asions, but she never gave him the chance.

    That evening, he nned to finally have a proper talk with her. But just as dinner was about to begin, his phone buzzed-Adler was calling with bad news. There was a serious issue with a client overseas, somethingplicated enough that Raymond would have to catch a flight out of the country immediately.

    Hanging up, he turned to Citrine. "Citrine, something''se up at work. I have to travel abroad for a bit."

    She hesitated, remembering how tense he''d looked while on the call. "Is it serious?"

    Her concern brought a small smile to his face. "It''s nothing I can''t handle," he replied, trying to reassure her.

    "How long will you be gone?" she pressed. Since joining the Carmichael family, this would be the first time Raymond had to leave her alone.

    He paused, forcing a lighthearted tone. "Not long. I''ll be back as soon as I''ve sorted things out."

    The thought of leaving her for any length of time tugged unexpectedly at his heart. After a moment''s silence, he said quietly, "I''m notfortable leaving you here alone. I''ll have you stay at the old manor for a while."

    Even though there were housekeepers at home, the idea of her being by herself didn''t sit right with him.

    "Alright," Citrine agreed withoutint.

    After dinner, she quickly packed her things. Raymond, reluctant to part ways, insisted on driving her to the manor himself and gave her a long list of reminders before finally heading off.

    A week passed, and Raymond still hadn''t returned.

    Each day after school, Citrine found herself either being roped into a game of chess with Grandpa Weston or dragged off to go fishing with him.

    She didn''t quite know what to make of it. If the old man yed chess seriously, it wouldn''t be so bad but every time she was about to win, he''d shamelessly try to take his moves back. It was enough to drive her crazy.

    One afternoon, as Weston was pestering her for another round of chess, Salome arrived at the manor.

    "Aunt Salome!" Citrine''s eyes lit up at the sight of her, as if she''d just spotted her savior.

    "You again?" Weston''s lips tightened in a deep frown. He didn''t bother to hide his annoyance.

    "What do you mean, ¡®again''? Honestly, how can you say something so cold?" Salome retorted, unfazed. She''d been visiting the manor almost every day to check on her niece, and by now, Weston''s grumpiness barely registered.

    Salome used to be genuinely intimidated by her father, but seeing Citrine''s pleading puppy-dog eyespletely melted her resolve. Steeling herself, Salome dered, "Dad, let Vicente y chess with you for a change. Stop monopolizing Citrine¡ªshe''sing to hang out with me."

    Weston stared at his daughter in disbelief, as if he couldn''t believe she''d dared speak to him that way.

    Salome braced herself, expecting a lecture, but to her surprise, Weston only grumbled, "No way. That kid''s terrible at chess. I''m not wasting my time on him."

    From the corner, Vicente offered a weak smile. "My skills just aren''t up to Citrine''s level, Grandpa. I wouldn''t be much of a challenge."

    Salome ignored him; she''d never cared for either of the orphans Weston had adopted.

    Remembering that the Everly family''s house was empty that day, Salome beamed at Citrine. "What do you say, Citrine? Want toe over to Aunt Salome''s ce for a bit?"

    "Sure." Citrine nced at the chessboard, already set up for another round, and agreed without a second thought.

 Chapter 154

    "Grandpa, I''m heading to Aunt''s ce today," Citrine said, ncing at Weston with a look of relief, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

    Weston simply stared back at her, speechless.

    Was ying chess with him really that torturous?

    Once they left the old Carmichael estate, Salome drove Citrine back to the Everly family''s house.

    Both were in good spirits at least, until someone blocked their path at the front door.

    "Salome, you can''t go in."

    A woman stood there, arms outstretched, panic written all over her face as she blocked Salome''s way.

    It was Mabel Everly, Derrick Everly''s younger sister and Salome''s sister-inw. Mabel had never liked Salome, but by now, Salome was used to it.

    Who knew what nonsense she was up to today? Annoyed, Salome shoved her aside. "This is my house. Why shouldn''t I be able to go in?"

    Mabel looked even more flustered. "I mean it-you just can''t go in right now."

    What exactly are you hiding? Salome''s eyes narrowed as a chilling suspicion dawned on her. She shot Mabel a cold re. "Move."

    Then, lowering her voice, she turned to Citrine and said gently, "Citrine, Auntie needs to take care of something. Why don''t you head to my room and wait for me?"

    "Okay." Citrine guessed something must''ve happened at Salome''s house and nodded without hesitation.

    Salome signaled a maid to take Citrine upstairs to her room, then strode straight towards Derrick''s bedroom.

    She was barely at the door when she heard the heavy, ragged breathing of a man, mixed with the sultry, uninhibited moans of a woman.

    Those sounds... they were too ecstatic to mistake.

    Without hesitation, Salome pushed the door open.

    The scene was unmistakable: clothes scattered across the floor, a man and a woman tangled together on the bed, kissing as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. Salome instantly spotted the deep red scratches raking down Derrick''s back.

    Her heart clenched painfully.

    The couple turned at the sound of the door. The woman, unfazed, casually grabbed a sheet and draped it over their bodies.

    Derrick, meanwhile, looked anything but guilty. He shot Salome a venomous re. "Why are you back now? Way to ruin the mood."

    Only after his words did he bother to disentangle himself from the woman.

    She couldn''t help but let out a lingering moan, then pouted and swatted Derrick''s arm. "You''re so rough. That hurt."

    Neither of them seemed the least bit ashamed as they slowly pulled their clothes back on, ignoring Salome as if she were invisible.

    "Are you two disgusting or just shameless?" Salome''s hands shook at her sides, fists clenched tight. She''d suspected something, but seeing it with her own eyes still brought a fresh stab of pain. Swallowing her tears, she snapped at Derrick, "If you want to fool around, fine, but we agreed that none of your filthes back to this house."

    "Salome, Derrick and I love each other," the woman protested, her eyes filling with tears. "I know you don''t like me, but you can''t talk about me like that."

    "Pathetic," Salome spat, striding forward and pping the woman hard across the face.

    The woman''s expression twisted in pain as she clutched her cheek and huddled in Derrick''s arms, whimpering, "Derrick, she hit me. It really hurts."

    Derrick''s eyes zed with fury as he shielded the woman behind him. "Salome, how dare youy a finger on Daisy!" Without warning, he kicked Salome hard in the chest, snarling, "I swear, I''ll kill you!"

    Salome crashed to the floor, gasping for breath. Derrick wasn''t finished-he stormed over, grabbed her by the cor, and straddled her,nding p after p across her face like a man possessed.

    That was the scene Citrine walked in on.

    Her face went pale. Without thinking, she rushed forward and kicked Derrick off Salome. "Get away from her!"

 Chapter 155

    Salome''s face was already swollen, and Citrine''s eyes darkened when she saw it.

    She knelt down, gently straightening Salome''s clothes before helping her up. "Auntie, let me help you."

    Salome felt a wave of guilt. She hadn''t managed to show her niece a good time, and now the girl had to witness something so ugly. She couldn''t help but worry- had she scared her?

    "I''m fine, Citrine. Don''t worry about me." Salome kept her eyes firmly on Derrick as she spoke, afraid he might turn his anger on Citrine.

    They''d known each other since college. At twenty, she''d epted Derrick''s confession, and at twenty-three, his marriage proposal. For the first two years, he''d treated her well, and they''d been happy.

    But everything changed when it became clear she couldn''t have children. Derrick''s personality turned overnight. He became violent, and soon he was cheating on her again and again.

    The concern in Citrine''s eyes deepened. In her mind, her aunt was supposed to be a bright, confident woman¡ªa queen who shouldn''t be bullied by anyone.

    Earlier, she''d kicked Derrick hard in the ribs. He was nursing the pain now, simmering with anger, but when he saw whose daughter she was, he managed to bite back his rage. "Well, look who''s here. This is between me and your aunt. I suggest you stay out of it."

    As soon as he finished, Derrick grabbed for Salome. "Get over here, you worthless woman."

    He knew he couldn''t touch the niece-her family was powerful-but taking his anger out on Salome was another matter.

    Just as Derrick''s hand was about to reach Salome, Citrine stepped in front of her, shielding her aunt with her own body.

    Her face was cold as stone as she pped Derrick hard across the face. "You''re the worthless one! Who do you think you are, talking to my aunt like that?"

    She red at him, voice unwavering. "No one gets to hurt my aunt. No one." Citrine didn''t hold back. The p sent Derrick''s head snapping to the side, pain ring in his jaw as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

    He wiped it away, his gaze turning vicious. He spat, "Don''t think I won''t hit you just because you''re Raymond''s daughter. You''re nothing but an illegitimate brat."

    Salome''s expression changed instantly. Forgetting her own pain, she lunged at Derrick, scratching at his face. "Bastard! Watch your mouth!"

    She could take the insults directed at her, but she wouldn''t stand for anyone attacking her niece.

    But Salome was no match for Derrick. He drew back his fist, ready to strike her, when suddenly Citrine yanked her out of the way.

    "Auntie, step back. Let me handle this."

    Without another word, Citrine drove her foot into Derrick''s stomach, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Grabbing him by the hair, she punched him again and again, her voice ringing out with each blow.

    "You hit your own wife? You''re less than a dog. You think you can get away with hurting my aunt? I''ll make sure you remember this."

    Derrick was stunned. He hadn''t expected this slip of a girl to be so strong. A grown man, pinned on the ground by a teenager he couldn''t even fight back. The humiliation burned on his face, along with the bruises.

    At that moment, the other woman in the room, sensing things were getting out of hand, slipped out quietly.

    Momentster, she returned-with Derrick''s mother, Noah Everly, and his sister, Mabel Everly.

    "Stop it!" Noah shrieked when she saw her son getting pummeled.

    At the sound, Citrine paused and straightened, stepping protectively in front of Salome.

    Salome had always seen Citrine as the quiet, obedient type. Seeing her pin Derrick to the floor and beat him senseless left her speechless. She didn''t snap out of her daze until Citrine walked over and stood at her side.

 Chapter 156

    All these years, since marrying into the Everly family, Salome had never once felt cared for by anyone-not a single member of the Carmichaels had ever shown her kindness. And now, when things finally came to a head, it was her seventeen- year-old niece who stood up for her. The memory of her niece fiercely defending her,nding punch after punch on Derrick, made Salome''s eyes sting with emotion.

    Meanwhile, Noah and Mabel had already helped Derrick to his feet. Seeing his son so badly beaten, Noah''s face darkened, his aged voice trembling with barely restrained anger. "Who are you, barging into the Everly household like this?"

    Worried her niece would be med, Salome stepped forward and shielded her, locking eyes with Noah as she replied coldly, "She''s my niece."

    Noah narrowed his eyes, his re razor-sharp as he turned it on Salome. "Salome, what''s the meaning of bringing your niece here to cause trouble? And letting her beat my son like this-what exactly are you after?"

    Salome had endured enough after all these years. For the first time, she met Noah''s challenge head-on, her voice icy and unflinching. "It was your son who hit me first. My niece was only defending me. Mrs. Everly, surely you know what kind of man your son truly is?"

    Noah remained unbothered, her expression asposed as ever, as if nothing had happened. "Don''t forget, Salome-it''s because you can''t have children that my son ended up like this. If you''d given us a grandson, he wouldn''t have had to look elsewhere, let aloney a hand on you."

    She shifted all the me onto Salome, just as she always did. This excuse had always gotten Salome to back down, and Noah expected it would work yet again.

    Salome''s eyes flickered; at Noah''s words, her face went deathly pale.

    "Don''t be afraid, Aunt Salome," Citrine whispered, feeling her aunt''s hand tremble in hers. She squeezed it gently, offering silentfort.

    Noticing the change in Salome''s expression, Noah assumed victory and opened her mouth to speak-but Citrine cut her off.

    "Noah, let me ask you this: what makes you so sure my aunt can''t have children?" Just moments ago, Citrine had checked Salome''s pulse; although a bit weak, there was nothing to suggest infertility.

    Noah lifted her chin, looking smug. "My son''s been married to her for seven years now, and she still hasn''t given the Everly family a grandson. Isn''t that proof enough?"

    Citrine was silent for a heartbeat, then turned her eyes on Noah, her gaze sharp as a de. "Having a child isn''t solely a woman''s responsibility. Why are you so sure my aunt''s the problem? Why couldn''t it be Derrick?"

    Salome''s face went through a storm of emotions. Of course-why had she never thought of that? For years, she''d med herself, seeking out every specialist she could find, trying every old wives'' remedy, but nothing had helped. Citrine''s words suddenly shattered the illusion.

    If the problem wasn''t with her, then it had to be Derrick.

    Both Derrick and Noah stiffened at Citrine''s usation.

    Noah ground her teeth, shooting Citrine a look so venomous she might have wed her mouth shut if she could. "How dare you! There''s nothing wrong with my son!"

    Derrick''s face was thunderous as he shouted at Citrine, "There''s nothing wrong with me!"

    He looked almost frantic.

    Citrine''s lips curled in a knowing smile. She nced at Salome. "See, Aunt? He''s panicking now."

 Chapter 157

    At that moment, both Noah and Derrick looked deeply unsettled. Salome couldn''t help but rey Citrine''s words in her mind, turning them over with growing

    unease.

    A wave of absurdity swept over her-something she''d never felt before. The realization that she might have spent all these years living inside an borate lie crafted by the Everly family made her blood run cold.

    "Derrick, I deserve an exnation," Salome said icily, fixing her bruised and battered husband with a steely re.

    For years, she''d endured the Everly family''s scorn because she couldn''t get pregnant. Thinking of all the humiliation she''d suffered, Salome could barely contain her fury-if she could, she''d have torn the whole rotten n apart.

    Derrick''s eyes darted away, his face darkening as he raised his voice defensively. "What exnation? Salome, I''m telling you, there''s nothing wrong with me-my health is just fine."

    "We''ll see about that," Citrine interjected, her tone t. She strode straight toward him, her intentions clear.

    "Stay away from me!" Derrick''s expression changed in an instant. He instinctively backed away several steps, panic flickering in his eyes as he stared at Citrine. "W-What are you doing?"

    He still remembered how ruthless she''d been thest time she''did hands on him. The thought alone left him trembling-how could a girl be stronger than most men?

    Ignoring his protests, Citrine reached him and grabbed his arm with surprising force. She pressed her fingers to his wrist, holding it there for a long moment before finally letting go.

    Derrick barely had time to rx before Citrine seized his jaw.

    "Open your mouth." Her voice was utterly devoid of warmth, and the way she looked at Derrick was as if he were little more than a specimen.

    His jaw aching, Derrickplied, opening his mouth without protest.

    After her inspection, Citrine returned to Salome''s side.

    Salome stared at her niece in open astonishment, clearly taken aback by the whole disy. There was even a sh of admiration in her eyes. "Citrine, do you have medical training?"

    Citrine nodded. "Yes, I do."

    Without missing a beat, Citrine exposed Derrick''s secret right there in front of everyone. "Aunt Salome, Derrick has azoospermia. And thanks to his excessive indulgence, his health is seriously depleted."

    Before Salome could say a word, the faces of Derrick, Noah, and Mabel all changed at once. They stared at Citrine as if she''d grown a second head.

    Noah recovered first. She quickly schooled her features and shot Citrine a look of absolute certainty. "Azoospermia? Hardly! My son''s fertility is just fine, and as for your other usation, that''s nonsense. Don''t make things up."

    "You''re just a little girl-do you really think you can diagnose my son with a nce? This isn''t some game of make-believe," Noah sneered, her tone dripping with contempt.

    Citrine calmly looked away, her gazending on the woman Derrick had brought home, who lingered nervously in the corner. Citrine offered a cool smile. "No one knows better than you. Given the sorry state of Derrick''s body, five minutes must be a stretch, right?"

    Daisy hadn''t expected to be put on the spot. She hesitated, then nodded-only to immediately shake her head and, holding up her fingers, replied with thinly veiled disgust, "Not even five minutes."

    "You really aren''t picky, huh? Must''ve been desperate," Citrine shot back with a mockingugh. She had no sympathy for a homewrecker, and it showed in her voice.

    Daisy pressed her lips together and gave a sheepish smile, fully aware she''d crossed a line. "Yeah... I honestly don''t know how I stomached it."

    She''d once dreamed of marrying Derrick and climbing the socialdder, but after seeing the family''s reaction to the word "azoospermia," Daisy realized it was probably true. Her ambitions vanished in an instant-she wanted nothing more to do with Derrick.

 Chapter 158

    If you have no children after marrying into the Everly family, you''ll never have any status. You''ll always be the other woman, with nothing to show for it¡ªso what''s

    the point?

    Derrick: "..."

    Noah: "..."

    Suddenly, an earsplitting curse rang out from the crowd.

    Derrick lunged at Daisy, grabbing her by the throat. "You lying witch! When was I ever under five minutes? It was five and a half-at least!"

    Daisy scoffed, shoving his hand away. "Please, you''re so thin it''s like sleeping with

    a needle. If it wasn''t for the money, I wouldn''t bother pretending with you."

    Her voice was hoarse-she''d lost it from all the fake moaning.

    Daisy spat at Derrick, face twisted with disgust.

    The next moment, the two of them were locked in a wild, undignified scuffle. Citrine: "..."

    Salome: "..."

    Citrine tore her eyes away from the spectacle and turned to Salome. "Auntie, when the Everly family imed you couldn''t have children, did they ever have any medical proof?"

    Salome''s gaze darkened. "No. Noah insisted I was infertile, so I saw every specialist I could find. Not one found anything wrong, but Noah kept ming my infertility on my dieting. She ordered the kitchen to make me nourishing soup every day. After a while, I started to think maybe it really was my fault."

    "Nourishing soup?" Citrine narrowed her eyes, remembering the faint trace of weakness she''d felt in Salome''s pulse earlier.

    "Yes, I''ve been drinking it for a full year now." Salome nodded, still oblivious to any cause for concern.

    Citrine''s expression grew tense. Her voice sharpened. "Do you have any of the soup''s ingredients left?"

    "Yes, actually. The kitchen still has some leftovers-I didn''t finish mine this morning," Salome replied, suddenly noticing Citrine''s seriousness.

    Salome quickly ordered a trusted housekeeper to fetch it.

    The faces of the Everly family shifted uneasily as they overheard the conversation.

    Noah''sposure vanished; panic flickered visibly across her face. She shouted toward the hall, "Where are the security guards? Get in here and throw this brat out!"

    At hermand, a group of burly guards surged through the doorway.

    Salome''s face nched. She stepped protectively in front of Citrine, her voice cold and threatening. "Citrine is Raymond''s daughter. Lay a hand on her, and you''d better pray Raymond doesn''te back and tear your family to pieces."

    Noah let out a sharp, derisiveugh. "After all these years of partnership between the Everly and Carmichael families, you really think Raymond would pick a fight over some illegitimate child?"

    "Get rid of her. Now!" Noah barked at the guards.

    Salome, face set with resolve, nted herself in their path. "Touch Citrine, and I''ll fight you all to the death."

    "Sorry, ma''am," one of the guards muttered.

    The guards shoved Salome aside, barely giving her a second thought.

    Citrine met Noah''s gaze, arching an eyebrow in an almost amused way. "All this fuss just because I mentioned the soup? Unless-maybe there''s something in that recipe that shouldn''t be there?"

    Noah''s eyes twitched. "What are you talking about?" she snapped, then turned to the guards. "What are you waiting for? Throw her out already!"

    The guards made a grab for Citrine, but she slipped easily out of reach.

    "Useless!" Noah mmed her fist on the table, teeth clenched with rage. "Can''t even handle one girl? Do you all want to lose your jobs?"

 Chapter 159

    The group''s expressions shifted in unison as they rushed to surround Citrine once again.

    "You really think these losers could take me down?" Citrine sneered, cracking her knuckles. In just a few minutes, the bodyguards were left sprawled on the floor, gasping for air, some of them writhing in pain.

    At that moment, the entire Everly family and Salome stared wide-eyed at Citrine.

    "That''s my niece!" Salome cheered, pping with enthusiasm. After all these years of swallowing her pride in the Everly household, today finally felt like payback. Salome couldn''t remember thest time she''d felt this triumphant.

    No one in the Everly family expected Citrine to be such a fighter; their faces shifted from shock to dismay.

    Just then, a housemaid brought over the nourishing soup Salome had been drinking. Citrine took the bowl, sniffed it cautiously-nothing smelled off. Still, she frowned, dipped her finger into the soup, and tasted it.

    The moment she recognized the medicinal vor, Citrine''s expression darkened. "Noah, you''re despicable," she spat. "How dare you put birth control pills in my

    aunt''s soup."

    Everyone knew the dangers: prolonged use of birth control could damage a woman''s reproductive system, even cause infertility. It wasmon knowledge.

    "Birth control?" Salome''s eyes instantly filled with tears as she red at Noah, betrayal and fury mingling in her gaze.

    She couldn''t understand it. Derrick was the one who was infertile-so why did the Everly family insist on making her the scapegoat? Why secretly drug her, trying to make her truly barren?

    The realization that she''d unknowingly taken birth control for over a year sent a chill down Salome''s spine.

    She''d nearly lost the chance to ever be a mother.

    The Everly family-monsters, the lot of them. Rage boiling over, Salomeshed out, wing at Derrick''s face. When that wasn''t enough, she pped him hard, her handprint blooming red on his cheek.

    "You bastard! Derrick, I wasted the best years of my life on you. I want a divorce!"

    Salome''sposure shattered as she screamed at Derrick, tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks.

    Worried that Salome''s sobbing might make her physically ill, Citrine quickly stepped forward to steady her.

    "Aunt Salome, let''s go home," she urged gently.

    Salome nodded, unable to stand the sight of the Everly family for a moment longer.

    Ever since marrying Derrick, Salome had be a full-time housewife, giving up her dreams and hobbies. She had transformed from a bright, spirited young woman into a weary, ordinary housewife, and now she felt like her life was a failure.

    Citrine remembered how her aunt had always seemed so lively and unstoppable whenever she visited the Carmichael family before. She''d never seen Salome so utterly defeated.

    Biting her lip, Citrine tried tofort her. "Aunt Salome, even if you get divorced, this is just the beginning for you." She wasn''t good atforting people and didn''t know if her words would help.

    But Salome felt a flicker of warmth at her niece''s words.

    The Carmichael family wasn''t exactly close-knit, and Salome had never experienced real affection there. That''s why, after marrying into the Everly family, she''d tried so hard to win their approval, making them her whole support system. Yet in the end, the only one standing by her side was this niece who had grown up as an outsider.

    Salome rubbed her stinging eyes, fighting back tears.

    "Citrine, I gave my youth to a worthless man. I''m thirty now. After the divorce, I don''t even know if I''m worth anything anymore." Years of being a housewife had eroded her dreams and youthful spirit.

    "It''s not as bad as you think," Citrine replied, puzzled by how much the divorce seemed to devastate her aunt. To Citrine, it was a new beginning. "You''re only thirty. You can go back to work, do what you love. Maybe get a cat or a dog. And who knows? In a year or two, you might meet someone amazing and have your own beautiful children. Don''t be afraid, Aunt Salome. Happiness is still out there waiting for you."

 Chapter 160

    For seven long years, Salome''s world had revolved almost entirely around Derrick and the Everly family. Citrine understood all too well that Salome was terrified of what life after divorce might look like-but she also knew her aunt had to push through that fear.

    "Do you really think I could be happy?" Salome''s eyes shone with a flicker of hope.

    Seeing Salome''s spirits lift, Citrine pressed on gently. "Of course you can. Auntie, think back to when you''d just graduated college-what was your biggest dream then?"

    At the mention of her dreams, something seemed to stir in Salome. She looked at Citrine, her eyes bright with excitement. "I... I wanted to be a great fashion designer."

    Citrine smiled, relieved to see her aunt''s enthusiasm rekindled. "It''s not toote, you know. You can still go after the dream you put on hold."

    Salome''s eyes filled with sudden warmth. "Thank you, Citrine." She could tell her niece was doing everything she could to lift her spirits, and it was working-her heart felt lighter than it had in ages.

    Over the next few days, Citrine helped Salome move into her new ce, finalize the divorce papers, and even picked up some nourishing supplements to help her aunt recover her strength.

    Salome had expected these days to be almost unbearable. But to her surprise, she felt a lightness she''d never known before. Even though she''d only been divorced for a week, Salome found herself in better spirits than she''d ever been during her years with the Everly family. The exhaustion she always carried seemed to melt away; she felt like an entirely different person.

    One evening, Citrine took Salome out to dinner, saying she wanted to introduce her to a friend who might help her achieve her dream.

    Salome assumed it was just one of Citrine''s ssmates or old friends-nothing to make a fuss over. But when a tall woman sat down across from her, it finally dawned on her.

    "Oh my gosh-Ms. Tyler?" Salome jumped to her feet, starstruck, looking every bit the awestruck fan meeting her idol for the first time.

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh as she tugged her aunt back into her seat. "Auntie, rx-she''s a friend of mine. No need to be nervous."

    Salome grinned sheepishly, still lost in joy. "No, no, I''m not nervous at all." But she was. She''d only met Adelina briefly once before, and knew she was friends with Citrine, but she couldn''t help feeling flustered-after all, Adelina Tyler was the CEO of JR Group, and one of its most renowned designers.

    Adelina reached over and ruffled Citrine''s hair. "Long time no see, kiddo. I''ve missed you." She looked genuinely delighted to be there-after all, it had been ages since they''d caught up.

    "I''ve missed you too, Adelina." Citrine had always been generous with her affection, especially toward the people she cared about.

    Then, turning to Salome, Citrine made the introductions. "We didn''t have timest time, but this is my aunt, Salome."

    "Nice to meet you." This time, Adelina''s demeanor was warm and gracious. She offered Salome a friendly handshake.

    Salome reached out with both hands, still trying to contain her excitement. "It''s an honor, Ms. Tyler."

    Adelina smiled. "I''m a friend of Citrine''s-please, just call me Adelina."

    Adelina had already been won over by Citrine''s persistence, and she wasted no time getting to the point. "Citrine tells me you''re passionate about design. There are some openings in ourpany''s New York office. Would you be interested in joining us?"

    Salome stared at her, as if she''d just been handed a miracle out of the blue. She didn''t answer right away, ncing uncertainly at Citrine.

    Sensing her aunt''s hesitation, Citrine reassured her gently. "Don''t worry, Auntie. You''d start as an intern, and whether you move up will depend entirely on your own effort."

 Chapter 161

    June slipped by in the blink of an eye.

    Final exams were just around the corner at colleges all across the city.

    On this particr day, Citrine was heading to Havencrest Technical College, just as she always did, to tutor Travis and his friends.

    She had barely stepped into the academic building when a sweet-faced girl darted up and blocked her path, arms outstretched.

    "Would you... could you give this to Travis for me?" The girl carefully pulled a pink envelope from her pocket, holding it out with both hands. Her eyes sparkled with hope as she pressed her palms together in a silent plea. "Please?"

    Nervously clutching the envelope, the girl''s cheeks flushed a gentle pink.

    Citrine nced at the letter but didn''t take it right away. Instead, she asked, "Do you have a crush on my brother?"

    The girl nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I''ve liked him for a long time......." With that, Dulcie Sinir shyly dropped her gaze to the floor.

    "I''ll give him your letter," Citrine replied, finally epting the pink envelope, "but whether he reads it or not is up to him."

    It took real courage to admit you liked someone-Citrine could tell Dulcie had been building up to this moment for a while.

    "Thank you!" Dulcie''s face lit up as Citrine took the letter, her excitement barely contained.

    Before heading upstairs, Citrine paused to look at Dulcie, her expression softening. "My brother''s going to be someone really impressive one day. If you like him, then work on bing someone remarkable too."

    With those words, Citrine climbed the stairs, leaving Dulcie behind.

    Dulcie watched Citrine''s retreating figure, and in that instant, something inside her shifted. Suddenly, she felt braver than ever.

    Later, Citrine handed the letter to Travis, but what he did with it was a mystery- she never found out.

    Maybe it was Citrine''s words that snapped Dulcie out of her rut, because a few dayster, while Citrine was tutoring Travis and the others, Dulcie appeared at the door of the empty ssroom.

    "Excuse me, um..." Dulcie hesitated, backpack slung over her shoulders. "Is it okay if I join you? I want to get better too." She looked at Citrine at the front of the room, hope shining in her eyes.

    Dulcie''s parents had split up when she was six, and she''d ended up living with her mother. Her mom had been injured years ago and struggled to get around, so Dulcie took on all the housework and cared for her mother alone. She barely had any time for studying, and unsurprisingly, she hadn''t passed her high school entrance exams. That was how she ended up at Havencrest Technical College.

    She actually loved learning, but aftering to Havencrest, she found herself surrounded by students who didn''t care about school at all. It was hard not to get pulled down with them. On top of that, the teachers weren''t great, the ssrooms were chaotic, and over time, Dulcie just gave up trying.

    But that day, Citrine''s words broke through the numbness. Dulcie realized she didn''t want to keep drifting. She wanted to change not just for Travis, but for herself and her future.

    "Come on in," Citrine said, giving her a quick look and nodding her inside. Dulcie''s face lit up. "Thank you!"

    Word spread quickly through Havencrest Technical College that Dulcie had joined Travis''s study group.

    To everyone''s surprise, over the next few days, more and more students showed up, eager to study with Citrine. She never turned anyone away-if they wanted to learn, she was willing to teach.

    Soon, so many students crowded in that one ssroom couldn''t hold them all. Those who couldn''t find a seat pressed up against the windows, straining to hear Citrine''s exnations.

    Themotion didn''t go unnoticed. Within a week, news of the crowded lessons reached the teachers and administrators¡ªeven the school principal heard about

    it.

    At Havencrest, students usually spent ss time sleeping or goofing off. No one had ever seen them this eager to learn. When the principal and several teachers first heard the rumors, they just couldn''t believe it.

    So, one day, the principal, apanied by a few teachers and school officials, decided to see for themselves what was really going on at Havencrest Technical College.

 Chapter 162

    As soon as they reached the top of the stairs and caught sight of the scene outside the ssroom, the group couldn''t help but stare in disbelief.

    The narrow hallway was packed with students, and the doorway itself was practically overflowing. Teenagers-most of them the notorious troublemakers who liked to style themselves as "tough guys" and "bad girls"¡ªcraned their necks, all fixated on the ckboard inside. Every so often, someone would jot something down in a battered notebook, faces set in expressions of such intense concentration that it was almostical.

    Had they all been hit on the head or something?

    The principal nced at the teacher beside him, his tone incredulous. "Mr. Brown, are those really our students? Those kids outside the door-are they actually from Havencrest Technical College?"

    Mr. Brown''s astonishment was just as in. "These are the same hooligans who usually act like they want to tear the ssroom apart during lessons. I''ve honestly never seen them this focused before."

    The small group moved closer.

    The back door of the ssroom was wide open, but every inch of space inside was already imed by students, standing shoulder to shoulder at the rear. The adults had no choice but to do as the others did lean in at the threshold and peer inside.

    They listened quietly as a girl at the front of the room exined a math problem. Her teaching was meticulous, breaking down each step from the initial approach to the final form with a rity that put some of the faculty to shame.

    Among those with the principal was a math teacher, who studied the girl''s solution on the ckboard. His eyes widened, first in shock, then in genuine admiration. "That''s remarkable," he whispered. "Her method is not only clearer, but also simpler than the standard approach. I''ve been teaching for years, and I never once thought of solving it like that."

    The principal nodded thoughtfully.

    Havencrest Technical College hadn''t always been so chaotic. In recent years, poor management and outdated resources had led it to decline, earning the dubious honor of being the worst high school in Havencrest.

    It had been so long since the principal had seen students show any real passion for learning that the sight before him was almost enough to bring tears to his eyes. He looked at the girl in front of the ss, feeling a flutter of excitement and hope. Almost without thinking, he asked, "Does anyone know which school that girl''s from?"

    One of the teachers, who''d overheard some student gossip earlier, was quick to reply. "I heard she''s the top student at Havencrest Preparatory Academy. She scored over 740 on the entrance exams, and she even holds the record for the highest score in the Primus Academy''s practice test."

    "Incredible. She has a bright future ahead of her," the principal said, sincerely impressed.

    He couldn''t help but recall his previous encounters with students from Primus Academy-most of them were arrogant, always looking down on Havencrest Technical College''s kids. Watching Citrine now, his gaze softened. "I used to think all the top students from Primus Academy strutted around like peacocks, but she''s so humble and poised. That''s rare to see."

    The dean agreed. "I know, right? I''ve witnessed plenty of shes between their students and ours. Most of the Primus Academy crowd won''t even deign to speak to our kids. They act like just being near us might give them the gue."

    The principal was quiet for a moment, then turned to the dean. "Tomorrow, make sure to arrange a bigger lecture hall. From now on, let''s have our teacherse and observe her lessons as well. It''s not every day you see students so absorbed in learning that they lose track of time. Our faculty could learn a thing or two from her as well."

    The group slipped away as quietly as they''de, careful not to disturb the lesson unfolding inside.

 Chapter 163

    The next day, when Citrine returned to Havencrest Technical College for another tutoring session, she was surprised to find the school''s entire leadership team- everyone from the principal to the department heads-waiting at the entrance to greet her.

    They were all impably dressed in suits, so much so that for a second, Citrine wondered if she''d somehow offended the wrong organization.

    Once she arrived, the administrators each took a moment to introduce themselves.

    After Citrine had a grasp of who was who, she briefly introduced herself as well. Then, she was escorted by a few staff members to a newly assigned lecture hall.

    But today, things were different. Instead of just students, a whole row of teachers sat quietly at the back of the ssroom, ready to observe.

    Citrine swept her gaze over them, pretending not to notice, andunched into her lesson as usual.

    She taught a mix of humanities and sciences, and regardless of the subject, her exnations were clear and captivating-often even better than the regr faculty. In subjects like history and civics, she told vivid stories that brought dry material to life, making it easier for students to remember and stay engaged.

    As for the sciences, those were her specialty. Citrine''s approach to problem- solving was remarkably straightforward much simpler than the methods used by the teachers at Primus Academy. The students at Havencrest Technical College immediately grasped her logic and found themselves understanding concepts that had stumped them before.

    After a few sessions, it was clear her sses had be impromptu training seminars for the faculty as well. The teachers at Havencrest learned a great deal just by listening in, and their initial admiration for Citrine soon turned into genuine respect.

    Over the following days, every time Citrine taught, not a single teacher skipped her ss. During breaks, they''d seek out students who were struggling and go over exercises to help reinforce what they''d just learned.

    Before long, Citrine became ustomed to the new routine.

    This continued all the way up to finals week.

    Havencrest held their end-of-term exams a few days earlier than Primus

    Academy. For once, the students were actually looking forward to the test. Instead of dreading it, they were eager to show how much they''d learned from Citrine''s lessons, determined to hand in exams they could be proud of.

    When her tutoring duties wrapped up, Citrine turned her attention to her own finals at Primus Academy.

    On the day of herst exam, she celebrated with her ssmates before heading back to the family estate. As soon as she reached the front gate, she spotted two men pacing anxiously.

    Citrine ignored them and walked straight toward the house.

    "Citrine!" Sawyer''s face lit up when he saw her. He hurried over. "Citrine, you''re finally home. We''ve been waiting for ages."

    Citrine''s brows knit together in obvious irritation. "We''ve already cut ties. Would you please stop bothering me, Mr. Iversons?"

    She''d been in a good mood all day, but seeing these two now absolutely soured it.

    Sawyer, remembering Holbrook''s current condition, tried to keep hisposure as he spoke. "Citrine, I know you''re still upset, but your grandfather''s not well. This isn''t the time for stubbornness."

    Holbrook was ill?

    Citrine''s expression darkened, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. She''d prescribed plenty of restorative medication for Holbrook before-by all rights, he should have recovered by now.

    She stayed silent. Mistaking her quiet forpliance, Sawyer rxed a little and continued, "Your grandfather''s old illness has red up again. I remember the medicine you gave himst time worked wonders. Where did you get it? Could you give me some more?"

    Both Sawyer and Clifford looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to hand over the medicine.

    Citrine let out a coldugh, as if she''d just heard a particrly funny joke. With a hint of mockery, she said, "So now you remember me. The Iverson family never ceases to amaze."

    Sawyer hesitated, looking at Citrine the way one might look at a stubborn child. "Citrine, there''s a limit to how much you can act out. Your grandfather''s in critical condition-he''s counting on that medicine to save his life." Holbrook was still unconscious, and Sawyer''s impatience was obvious.

 Chapter 164

    "Hand over the medicine, now. If anything happens to Grandpa, it''ll be your fault. Don''t think for a second we''ll ever acknowledge you again." Clifford''s tone dripped with resentment; he still hadn''t forgotten how Citrine embarrassed him on the tennis courtst time. Just thinking about it made his blood boil, and now his attitude toward her was downright hostile.

    Citrine almostughed from sheer disbelief at how ridiculous the two of them were. She couldn''t hold it in and let out a short, sharpugh. "You Iversons really are shameless, aren''t you?"

    She scoffed, her voice icy. "If Holbrook''s old illness is back, then let him die. Why are youing to me? Why should I give him the medicine? What''s he done to deserve it?"

    "And you¡ª" She jabbed a finger at Clifford, her disgust in. "If it wasn''t for me, Holbrook would have been dead long ago. The Iversons never thanked me for saving him, and now you want to guilt-trip me? Call me a sinner? That''s nonsense. I''m Holbrook Iverson''s savior-he should be on his knees thanking me for saving his life."

    "As for yourst threat? Don''t make meugh. The Iverson family? Please. Who do you think you are, that I''d ever want to be associated with you? I''d rather die than have anything to do with you people."

    "Citrine, what the hell are you saying?" It was the first time Clifford had heard her curse the Iversons so viciously. He was stunned, his expression darkening almost instantly.

    Citrine raised her voice, making sure he heard every word: "Let me repeat myself. My name is Citrine Carmichael. Don''t you dare insult me." She wasn''t about to let anyone saddle her with the Iverson name.

    Sawyer, seeing how worked up Citrine was, grew even more anxious.

    "Citrine, I know you''re upset right now, but the Iversons did raise you. That''s still your grandfather you''re talking about. How can you be so heartless?" By the end of his sentence, Sawyer''s face was grim, his tone hardening with a hint of threat. Citrine met their eyes, utterly unfazed. "Threats won''t work on me. I owe the Iversons nothing." In her previous life, she''d repaid whatever kindness Sawyer had ever shown her-over and over again.

    As for Grandpa? Holbrook was never any kind of grandfather to her. In her past life, she''d nursed him back to health, spent every week at the old Iverson estate at his beck and call-only to have him force her into giving Jete a kidney. A real viper of an old man.

    The Iversons'' hunger was insatiable; no matter how much you gave them, it was never enough. You could feed them your very flesh and blood and they''d still sneer at you for not being good enough.

    Citrine let out a coldugh and said tly, "You want the medicine? Not a chance. I''d die before I gave it to you."

    She had plenty of medicine, but wasting it on someone like Holbrook would be the biggest loss of all. He simply wasn''t worth it.

    Sawyer and Clifford stared at her, stunned that she could be so cold.

    Sawyer''s frown deepened, his frustration peaking. "Citrine, what''s happened to you? How can you be so cruel?"

    Clifford looked at her with utter disgust. "You really can''tpare to Jete. No wonder everyone likes her better than you." He almost felt guilty before, thinking he should make it up to Citrine for neglecting her. Now he realized what a waste of kindness that had been.

    Their words didn''t bother Citrine in the slightest. She just looked at them, her tone easy and unhurried. "You''re right, I''m nothing like Jete. She''s the kind one- why don''t you go ask her for the medicine? I''m far too wicked to ever give it to you."

    "Citrine, you¡ª" Clifford was so angry he couldn''t even get the words out.

 Chapter 165

    "What kind of stray mutt thinks it can bark at the Carmichael family''s door?" Weston''s voice rang out before he even appeared.

    He''d just finished fishing and was heading home when he spotted his granddaughter being blocked at their gate by members of the Iverson family¡ª clearly, they were giving her trouble.

    Weston''s expression immediately darkened.

    After these past months, his fondness for Citrine had only grown. He was tantly biased now, unable to stand seeing her bullied.

    Not that he ever liked the Iversons to begin with. Holbrook Iverson had always been an arrogant man, impossible to tolerate when he was young. After his spectacr downfall-practically bankrupting Iverson Enterprises his son Sawyer managed to single-handedly rebuild the family business. Admirable, perhaps, but in recent years, Sawyer''s behavior had be increasingly erratic, surpassing even his father''s in arrogance.

    At Weston''s words, a shadow flickered in Sawyer''s eyes, but he quickly recovered, wearing his signature, insincere smile. "Weston, we''re here for a friendly visit, but your butler said you weren''t home and left us waiting outside."

    Sawyer was a natural at polite small talk, but Weston wasn''t buying it¡ªhe had no patience for empty courtesies.

    "I gave the order myself. No Iversons-man or beast-are allowed inside." Weston snorted, making no effort to hide his disdain for Sawyer''s phony charm.

    Sawyer''s smile froze awkwardly on his face.

    Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to continue. "Weston, I came for an important reason. My father is ill-and he needs the medicine that Citrine has."

    It was clear Sawyer hoped Weston would pressure Citrine intoplying.

    Weston saw right through them. He gave Sawyer and hispanion a chilly look and sneered, "Citrine can make her own decisions. And if your father''s sick, take him to a hospital. The nerve of you,ing to a child and begging for medicine- have you no shame at all?"

    Sawyer''s face turned ugly, his motivesid bare.

    He opened his mouth to retort, but when he nced up, Citrine was looking at him with open disgust. Sawyer faltered, lost for words.

    In the end, he left empty-handed-no medicine, no solutions. Frustrated, he had to look elsewhere.

    He barely slept all week.

    Then, finally, hope appeared: the world-renowned Viridis Medical Institute announced on its website that it was opening a branch in Havencrest.

    Viridis was top-of-the-line, boasting cutting-edge medical equipment and technology. News of their new branch in Havencrest sent shockwaves through the global medicalmunity.

    The announcement made headlines, with major hospitals and research institutes around the world sending congrattions, eager to show respect for Viridis.

    The moment he heard, Sawyer grabbed Norton and rushed to the grand opening of Viridis Medical Institute.

    That same day, Citrine arrived with Carlotta for the event-and ran into Sawyer right at the entrance.

    Citrine silently cursed her bad luck.

    "Citrine? What are you doing here?" Sawyer frowned at the sight of her.

    Citrine ignored him and started inside, but suddenly, Norton lunged forward, grabbing her arm and yanking her back so abruptly she nearly stumbled. ring, she wrenched her arm free and snapped, "Are you insane?"

    Norton red right back, barely containing his irritation. "Citrine, enough with the attitude. You refused to give Grandpa the medicine, fine. But today, Dad needs to get help from Viridis for Grandpa''s illness. If you won''t help, then stay out of our way."

 Chapter 166

    Last time, Citrine had disrupted Sawyer''s negotiations with CICI Group, and he hadn''t forgotten. Now, seeing her here today, Norton felt a creeping sense of dread. Determined not to let her mess things up again, he decided she shouldn''t be allowed inside.

    "Your brother''s right. You can''t go in today," Sawyer said, echoing Norton''s

    sentiment. His gaze toward Citrine grew wary, as if she might ruin everything for him.

    Citrine let out a short, incredulousugh. "Who do you think you are? What gives you the right to boss me around?" She was genuinely amused-if nothing else, the Iverson family sure knew how to keep surprising her, time and again.

    Carlotta saw Citrine being pulled aside and followed, frowning. "What''s going on here? Citrine''s with me today," she said, clearly annoyed.

    Carlotta had read enough online to know the gist of Citrine''s messy history with the Iversons. Not that she''d ever had a high opinion of them, but now she could barely hide her disgust.

    "Ms. Yarbrough?" Sawyer had been so focused on Citrine, he hadn''t even noticed who was with her. Now he recognized Carlotta''s face.

    Carlotta didn''t bother with pleasantries. "Citrine is my guest today." If Citrine weren''t so intent on keeping her identity under wraps, Carlotta would''ve loved to tell Sawyer that the "little girl" in front of him was actually the founder of CICI Group the very person he was so desperate to do business with.

    "Ms. Yarbrough, I''m afraid she can''t join you today." Sawyer kept a polite smile stered on his face, though his eyes gave away his resolve-there was no way he was letting Citrine in.

    Carlotta bristled at his shamelessness and was about to argue further when Citrine spoke up, her tone edged with amusement. "I was invited. I have an official invitation. Can you say the same?"

    She looked from Sawyer to Norton, her gaze yful and challenging. "Do either of you have an invitation?"

    Sawyer and Norton both froze, exchanging startled nces. "Where did you get an invitation?" Sawyer asked, astonished.

    Despite pulling every string they had in the medicalmunity, neither father nor son had managed to secure an invitation for today''s event. Yet Citrine had gotten one effortlessly. As they looked at each other, their shock was tinged with something else a glimmer of calction.

    Norton immediately shifted tactics, his tone suddenly conciliatory. "Citrine, how about you let us have your invitation? We''re willing to pay-name your price." He looked at her hopefully.

    Sawyer jumped in as well, desperation clear in his voice. "We really need it."

    Citrine stared at the two of them, at a loss for words. "Are you two out of your minds?" she said, deadpan. "It''s broad daylight-why are you dreaming?"

    If they thought she''d just hand over her invitation, they were delusional.

    "We''ll pay. Just tell us how much you want," Norton insisted, slipping into his usual business-negotiation mode.

    Citrine''s expression turned icy. "Not for sale," she replied tly.

    Just then, a group of middle-aged men in ck suits emerged from the Viridis Medical Institute. The one leading them wore ck-rimmed sses and carried himself with unmistakable authority. His gazended squarely on Citrine.

    Sawyer caught sight of the man and held his breath, excitement flickering in his eyes. He was about to speak when the man strode past him, heading straight for Citrine.

    "Is there a problem here?" the man asked, stopping in front of her.

    Citrine smiled sweetly. "Just a couple of troublemakers without invitations, trying to force me to hand over mine." She shot a pointed, mocking look at Sawyer and Norton.

 Chapter 167

    The middle-aged man in the ck-rimmed sses was none other than the director of Viridis Medical Institute¡ªa name everyone in the medical world recognized. Yet now, this distinguished director stood chatting andughing with a young girl, as if they were old friends. Their conversation flowed easily, free of any awkwardness, as though their bond had been forged over many years.

    Today, the director was the man everyone wanted to meet. The medical elite had pulled every string they could to score an invitation to this event, all in the hope of getting a moment of his attention.

    Yet, against all odds and effort, none of them couldpare to a teenager who had captured his interest so effortlessly.

    People nearby couldn''t help but whisper among themselves at the sight.

    "Who is that girl? Why does the director of Viridis Medical Institute seem so familiar with her?"

    "I have no idea. I''ve never seen her before."

    "Look at the way he speaks to her-there''s almost a hint of respect. If you didn''t know better, you''d think she was his boss," someone remarked, only half-joking.

    "Maybe she''s the daughter of a friend. That would exin it."

    Spection about Citrine''s identity buzzed through the crowd.

    Sawyer and Norton stared in disbelief, still unable to make sense of what they were witnessing.

    How on earth did Citrine know the director of Viridis Medical Institute?

    But with Holbrook still in his hospital bed, there wasn''t time to puzzle it out. Swallowing his pride, Sawyer squared his shoulders and made his way toward the director and Citrine.

    "Director, hello. I''m Sawyer, CEO of The Iverson Group," he said, reaching out his hand with practiced politeness.

    The director-Patten Reed-turned at the sound of Sawyer''s voice, then nced at Citrine. "Citrine, is this the one who kept pestering you for an invitation?"

    Citrine nodded.

    Patten''s expression hardened and he gave a cold, dismissive snort. "So you just go around begging people for favors? This is what passes for a CEO these days? Shameless."

    He didn''t bother to hide his contempt.

    Sawyer and Norton''s faces drained of color.

    Since thepany crisis and his father''s illness, Sawyer had lost count of how many times he''d been treated with this kind of frosty indifference.

    It stung, dragging him back to those desperate, uncertain days when he first started his business.

    Still, no matter how angry or humiliated he felt, Sawyer forced his trademark smile. As if he hadn''t heard Patten''s insult, he pressed on: "Director, I''m here to ask for a hospital bed for my father. His situation is urgent. If you''d be willing to help, we can pay whatever it takes."

    He finished with a deep bow¡ªan act of humility that he hadn''t had to perform in years.

    Patten looked him over and shook his head. "Young man, money doesn''t solve everything. This is the grand opening of Viridis Medical Institute, and showing up uninvited was disrespectful. Besides, our research center isn''t a charity. If I took every desperate case that came my way, things would spiral out of control."

    "My father-" Sawyer tried to interject, but Patten cut him off with a wave of his hand.

    Without another word, Patten led Citrine inside, not sparing Sawyer another nce.

    Sawyer and Norton watched them go, humiliation and frustration written on their faces.

    Nortonshed out, kicking the nearest tree in anger. "Dad, Citrine is unbelievable. It''s one thing not to give us her medicine, but she couldn''t even say a word for us just now? She and the director are clearly close-as long as she put in a good word, Grandpa might have a chance! How can she be so heartless?"

 Chapter 168

    Sawyer looked dazed, his eyes distant as he spoke slowly, "Citrine won''t help us. Whether we live or die, she couldn''t care less."

    He''d always thought Citrine was just sulking, but after what happened earlier, Sawyer finally realized this was no childish tantrum. Citrine truly wanted nothing more to do with the Iverson family. She didn''t even care if any of them survived.

    At the grand opening celebration, aside from the director of Viridis Medical Institute, no one drew more attention than Citrine herself.

    That day, she was the undeniable star of the show.

    Wherever Citrine went, the director personally apanied her-already unusual enough¡ªbut what shocked everyone was that Citrine was seated in the director''s ce of honor at the ceremony. Nobody knew what had convinced the director to agree to it.

    Rumors swirled: some guessed Citrine was someone important, others whispered she might be the director''s daughter. Spection was endless.

    All through the event, Carlotta stuck faithfully by Citrine''s side and naturally became a focus of the crowd herself.

    Outwardly, Carlotta kept herposure, but inside her heart was pounding wildly.

    This event gathered the titans of the medical world. If she could just connect with a few of them, her brother''s illness might not be so hopeless. The thought crossed her mind, but she never acted on it.

    Carlotta didn''t want to cause Citrine any trouble. In a ce like this, even a small misstep could have big consequences for Citrine.

    Besides, it was clear to her that Citrine and the director shared an unusually close rtionship. Instead of ying games, Carlotta decided it was better to be straightforward.

    Her boss was kinder than anyone she''d ever known.

    After the ceremony, Dr. Patten offered to give Citrine a ride home, but she politely declined.

    In the end, it was Carlotta who drove Citrine back.

    On the way, Carlotta sat behind the wheel, lost in thought.

    "You look distracted. What''s on your mind?" Citrine nced over, as if she could already guess the answer.

    "I... it''s nothing," Carlotta murmured, pressing her lips together. The words hovered on the tip of her tongue, but for some reason, she just couldn''t say them.

    Ever since she''d joined CICI Group, Citrine had gone out of her way to help her. Thepany had given her the best benefits anyone could ask for. Citrine had already done so much was she just being greedy, constantly asking for more?

    Citrine seemed to sense her inner conflict. She smiled softly and said, "There''s no need to worry about your brother. I''ve already made arrangements. Someone will bring him to Viridis Medical Institute tomorrow."

    Carlotta froze, staring at Citrine in disbelief. "Citrine... how did you know?"

    Citrine''s smile widened, her tone light. "We care about every single employee here."

    Then, more seriously, she added, "Now that your brother''s taken care of, you won''t have to worry anymore. You can focus on your work-and when you do, isn''t that the best way to bring value to thepany?"

    Carlotta''s eyes filled with tears.

    Her voice trembled as she tried to speak, "Thank you, Citrine. I promise¡ªI''ll devote my whole life to CICI Group."

    Citrine always talked about work and value, but Carlotta knew it was just her way of making sure Carlotta could ept her help without feeling guilty.

    Her boss really was one of a kind.

    Since joining CICI Group, Carlotta had thrived in her career and no longer had to worry about her brother''s medical bills. Now, with a real chance for her brother to be cured, it felt like everything in her life was finally turning around. This kind of life was something she''d never even dared to dream of before.

 Chapter 169

    Magnolia.

    This time, Raymond finally saw what those countless pairs of eerie green eyes in the room belonged to.

    The sight sent a chill down his spine.

    A pack of vicious dogs bared their teeth, their heads weaving from side to side with hunger. When they caught sight of Citrine, their low growls turned excited and sharp.

    Raymond was a grown man and even he felt afraid-so it was almost unimaginable how terrifying this must have been for eleven-year-old Citrine.

    As Citrine took in the scene before her, the color drained from her face.

    She stumbled back several steps, only for her legs to give out beneath her. She copsed to the floor.

    The dogs circled, waiting for the right moment, then lunged straight at her.

    Just as the snarling beasts leapt, Citrine''s eyesnded on a small wooden stick lying on the floor. She snatched it up, gripping it with all her might.

    "Get back!" she yelled, swinging the stick with every ounce of strength she had, striking at the dogs as they closed in.

    There was no room for hesitation. Each blow was wild and desperate, Citrine pouring all her fear and will into every swing.

    Fighting off one or two dogs was possible-but as more and more closed in, her movements grew sluggish, her arms heavy. Inevitably, she was bitten. But she clenched her jaw against the pain, refusing to stop, beating back any dog that got too close. By the time the heavy steel door finally creaked open, she was bleeding and battered, covered in angry bite marks.

    A group of men entered, carrying stun batons. One of them grabbed Citrine by the cor and dragged her out of the room.

    "Where are you taking me?" Citrine gasped, struggling to breathe as her shirt tightened around her throat.

    The men ignored her, hauling her before a man seated on a leather couch.

    He wore a mask, his legs crossed in a disy of casual authority. As Citrine was thrown to the floor in front of him, his eyes glinted with interest. "You''ve brought me a good one this time."

    The men all bowed their heads respectfully. "Boss, this girl''s from the Iverson family in Havencrest. No idea what she did to anger Mrs. Iverson, but she''s been sold off to us."

    With that, they tossed Citrine carelessly to the ground.

    The masked man looked her over, his gaze cold, like he was inspecting merchandise.

    He curled his lip into a thin smile. "What a little wretch."

    Citrine didn''t understand their words, but she could sense from the way they addressed him that this man was in charge here.

    She crawled forward, kneeling at his feet. Looking up at him, her voice trembled, "Sir, my family is wealthy. If you let me go, we''ll pay you any amount, whatever you want."

    Worried he might refuse, Citrine added urgently, "I can call my father right now and ask him for the money."

    The people brought here were all abandoned by their families. The man seemed amused by her plea, letting out a sharpugh. "How na?ve. They''ve already sold you. It''s time to face reality."

    "No, my father would never abandon me. He doesn''t even know about this," Citrine insisted, certain this was all Aline''s doing. Sawyer couldn''t possibly be involved.

    The man smirked at her na?vet¨¦, then tossed the phone from the table onto the floor. "Go ahead. Call him. Then you''ll see for yourself."

    For a moment, hope flickered in Citrine''s eyes. She scrambled to pick up the phone, her fingers dialing the familiar number she''d memorized by heart.

    The call connected almost immediately.

    Citrine''s eyes filled with tears, her voice trembling with relief and fear. "Dad, it''s me-Citrine."

    "Citrine, I''m busy right now. I''ll call you backter," came Sawyer''s voice on the other end, edged with impatience.

    Afraid he would hang up, Citrine blurted out, "Dad, Aline sold me! I need money, please you have to help me!"

    There was a long silence on the line. Finally, Sawyer spoke, his tone sharp with irritation. "Citrine, don''t talk nonsense. If you keep saying such awful things about your Aunt Aline, I''m going to be very angry with you."

 Chapter 170

    "Dad, please, you have to believe me! I''m telling the truth!" Citrine''s voice shook, threaded with panic and the edge of tears.

    But Sawyer still refused to listen; his tone turned colder, almost menacing. "Citrine, I thought sending you overseas would make you grow up a little, but you''re getting more and more out of line."

    With that, Sawyer hung up.

    Citrine''sposure crumbled. She redialed, desperate-only for the line to go dead the moment she called.

    Her face drained of color, and her hands trembled.

    Just then, the man in the room rose and sauntered over. He plucked the phone from Citrine''s grip. "See? You''ve been abandoned."

    He barely finished speaking before grabbing a fistful of her hair and dragging her toward the window.

    They were on the top floor-high enough for the entire manor to unfold below them. Right at the center, a row of bloodied bodies hung upside down, their gruesome forms horrifyingly clear from this height. The agony twisted on their faces was unmistakable, even from a distance.

    Citrine''s breath caught in her throat. Terror flickered in her eyes; she couldn''t stop shaking.

    She''d always known this ce was dangerous, but she''d never imagined they would murder people so brazenly, in in sight.

    The man admired the carnage with a satisfied smile. "Don''t even think about escaping. The next body they hang up there will be yours."

    A chill ran through Citrine. She forced herself to nod, swallowing her fear.

    The next few days blurred together. She was locked alone in a small, bare room, until finally, several men-led by the ind''s owner-came to fetch her. They brought her to a clinical, sterile room that reeked of antiseptic.

    The owner nced at Citrine, his gaze indifferent, then addressed the man in the white coat. "The buyer''s in a hurry. Get started."

    Something clicked in Citrine''s mind. Her face went white as chalk.

    She fought to steady herself, then summoned the courage to ask, "What are you going to do to me?"

    The man ignored her question, signaling to his henchmen. Two of them seized her, hoisting her onto the metal table.

    She thrashed and kicked, but she was only eleven-no match for two grown men.

    The owner looked almost sympathetic. "Doesn''t matter when you die. Sooner orter, everyone here does. But your heart, kid, that''s already been sold. Don''t struggle, or it''ll just hurt more."

    A leaden dread settled in Citrine''s chest. "But...I don''t want to die."

    By now, the man in theb coat had pressed a scalpel to her chest, the cold metal biting against her skin-right above her heart.

    Just as he was about to cut, Citrineshed out, knocking the scalpel from his hand.

    Her gaze darted to the owner, who''d watched the scene like a bored spectator. She clung to him with her eyes, desperate for hope.

    They wanted her heart to sell for cash. Swallowing her fear, Citrine tried to

    bargain. "Wait-I know how to make medicine. I can code. I''ve even done

    research on medical devices. I can earn way more money for you alive than if you just sell my heart."

    The owner hesitated, then nodded for the doctor to pause.

    Citrine exhaled in relief, her heartbeat slowing just a little.

    The owner stepped closer, a half-amused, half-doubtful smile on his lips. "And why should I trust some little kid?"

    "Give me aputer. I''ll prove it." Citrine met his eyes, her tone serious.

    She''d wanted to mention her skills with pharmaceuticals and medical equipment, but she knew she wasn''t expert enough to convince him. Coding, though¡ªthat was her real talent, her ace in the hole.

 Chapter 171

    Soon after, Citrine was led into an office.

    The ind''s boss nced at her coldly and warned, "If you can''t prove your worth, I promise you''ll die a miserable death."

    Citrine nodded, forcing herself to swallow her fear. "Don''t worry. I can prove it," she said, and took a seat in front of theputer.

    She spent the entire day glued to the screen, barely daring to take a breath, let alone a break.

    It wasn''t until midday the following day that she finally finished the game she''d been tasked to create.

    Raymond had been watching her every move, his eyes never leaving the monitor. He waited until she was done.

    When the final test run passed and the game loaded perfectly, disbelief swept over Raymond''s face.

    But it wasn''t just Citrine''s age or her talent that shocked him. It was the name credited as the game''s creator: not Citrine, but someone else entirely.

    He recognized the game immediately-it was the very same one Citrine had yed in Raymond''s own office before. The one called *Ultimate Showdown*.

    Since its release back home, *Ultimate Showdown* had be a sensation, dominating headlines and causing a national stir. It stood out as the only homegrown game of its kind-one that matched, even surpassed, anything produced by the industry giant, Magnolia. For months, it had trended on social media, a point of pride for the country.

    People everywhere were thrilled, proud that their nation had produced such talent, proving they could outshine even the likes of Magnolia.

    Yet the game''s developer was officially listed as the Glenwood Group, a major Crestwood techpany, and the credited creator was a Glenwood employee.

    How could this be? The game was clearly Citrine''s work. So how had it be a Glenwood Group product?

    Had someone on Mirage Cay sold the game to the Glenwood family? Or was there something else at y?

    The ind boss was beside himself with excitement when he saw what Citrine had aplished. As expected, he lost all other interest in her at least for now.

    Citrine''s life was spared, for the moment.

    Raymond had assumed this would be the end of her ordeal. But instead, they started forcing her to churn out more and more games for them, pushing her relentlessly.

    With her life on the line, Citrine had no choice but toply.

    Day after day, she was locked in a pitch-darkputer room, allowed to eat only after she''dpleted whatever project they''d assigned her.

    It wasn''t long before her health began to deteriorate. Her stomach grew weaker from the stress and neglect, and sometimes she''d be in the middle of coding when a sudden wave of pain would send her copsing to the floor, writhing in agony. Even then, no one bothered to fetch her a doctor.

    After a while, her captors realized that Citrine''s skills went far beyond game development, and their ambitions grew darker.

    They began ordering her to hack into rivalpanies to steal sensitive data, or to break into bank systems and siphon off money. But Citrine tly refused.

    "You dare defy me? Are you tired of living?" The ind boss snarled, pressing a gun to her head when she wouldn''tply.

    "You really think I won''t kill you?" he growled, punctuating the threat with a vicious kick that sent Citrine sprawling.

    "Go ahead, then. Do it." Clutching her stomach, Citrine looked up at the gun trembling in his hand. Her whole body shook, but her voice was unwavering.

    Making games and software for these people was just a means to survive. But stealingpany secrets or hacking banks? Those were crimes-ones that could ruin lives, destroy families, or worse.

    Even at her age, Citrine drew the line there.

    But her defiance only made the boss angrier.

    From that day on, every day brought new torments-cruel beatings, threats, and

    the promise that unless she gave in, he''d beat her to death.

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    Raymond watched helplessly as young Citrine was battered and bloodied by the group. His heart ached so fiercely it felt as if someone was squeezing it in their fist. For a split second, he almost wished she''d just go along with them-if only she''d cooperate, maybe they''d stop beating her.

    But his daughter was born with a fiery heart and an unbreakable spirit. Citrine refused to bow, no matter what. She would never cross the line into breaking thew.

    When the ind''s leader realized Citrine was too stubborn and feared she might be killed-leaving no one to write code for him¡ªhe eventually called off the beatings.

    A few dayster, Citrine was moved into a cramped dorm room designed for four. Inside were four men and one woman; with Citrine, a child, they made five.

    No one cut Citrine any ck because of her age. In fact, they seemed to resent her all the more.

    That night, Citrine tried to climb up to the empty top bunk, seeking a little peace. The moment she set foot on thedder, a powerful kick sent her tumbling hard across the slick floor.

    Stunned and bruised, she looked up and saw her attacker¡ªa middle-aged man in sses, looking down at her with utter contempt.

    "Why did you push me?" Citrine demanded, limping to her feet and facing him head-on.

    "Stay out of my way. That''s where I keep my stuff." He scowled, tossing his belongings up onto the bunk for emphasis.

    "But that bed was assigned to me," Citrine insisted, still not understanding the cruel pecking order of this ce.

    "Assigned? Around here, I make the rules." With that, he pped her hard across the face, then yanked her by the hair and shoved her head into a barrel of water in the corner.

    Citrine couldn''t swim. She thrashed and struggled desperately under the water, but her strength faded. Only when she went limp did the man finally let go.

    The other four in the room watched, faces nk, not a flicker of concern.

    Citrine woke up the next morning, shaken by her helplessness. That night, she gave up on the bunk andid her bedding out on the floor.

    The man never took his eyes off her. After washing his feet, he dumped the dirty water right over Citrine''s makeshift bed.

    Citrine seethed in silence, afraid to say a word.

    Her bed soaked, she spent the night crouched in a cold corner. After two days, she''d pieced together who everyone was.

    The man who''d held her under was named Sellers-a doctor, brilliant in medicine and pharmaceuticals, invaluable to the ind''s leader. He ruled the room.

    Then there was Una, a middle-aged woman, an expert in medical equipment and high-tech devices, second only to Sellers in authority.

    The other two men were Farris, an older doctor who''d seen every rare disease imaginable, and Hanson, Sellers'' assistant-quiet and overlooked like Citrine, but clearly someone with valuable skills.

    Citrine understood: to have a voice here, she had to be stronger, more indispensable.

    So she started approaching the others, going out of her way to be helpful¡ª anything to learn what she could about medicine from them.

    At first, they dismissed her as a weak, ignorant child. But soon, they realized Citrine''s talent for medicine was nothing short of extraordinary.

 Chapter 173

    Each day on Mirage Cay was a monotonous grind, a kind of suffering that gnawed at the soul. When Citrine arrived, she brought a flicker of light to the dull, joyless lives of the others. She wasn''t just a distraction, though her extraordinary gift for medicine quickly caught the attention of Sellers, Una, and Farris. Before long, all three had taken her under their wing as an apprentice.

    They poured everything they knew into teaching Citrine, and she proved more than worthy-soon, she surpassed her mentors, her talent shining even brighter than theirs ever had.

    But after a year, the first rift split open between Citrine and her teachers, Sellers and Farris.

    The reason? In order to stay alive, the two had agreed to help the ind''s owner develop new drugs.

    When Citrine found out, she confronted them head-on. "How could you agree to this? You''re doctors-you''re supposed to save people, not betray your principles!" Sellers didn''t see it her way. "What choice do we have?" he shot back, his voice cold. "If we refuse, they''ll kill us." He clung to the desperate hope that if he just did as he was told, maybe, someday, they''d let him go free.

    "We were forced into it," Farris echoed, aligning himself with Sellers'' logic.

    Citrineughed bitterly. "And you really believe that doing what they ask will keep you alive? These people are monsters. No one whoes here gets out alive."

    But Sellers and Farris refused to budge.

    The ind''s owner soon set up a privateboratory for the two of them, and it wasn''t long before they managed to create a new kind of drug-exactly what he wanted.

    Citrine, Una, and Hanson, on the other hand, refused topromise-even if it meant death. As punishment, the ind''s owner locked them in a kennel with vicious dogs for three days and nights.

    When the doors finally opened, the three of them were barely clinging to life.

    After that, Sellers and Farris abandoned thest shreds of their conscience and plunged deeper into the abyss.

    When Citrine turned fourteen, a new group of medical workers was brought to the ind. At the same time, a client''s order for hearts was still ten short. To fill the quota, the ind''s owner locked Citrine and her fourpanions, along with all the neers, into a single room and forced them into a brutal game of survival.

    The rules were simple and cruel: whoever didn''t make it out alive would supply the missing hearts.

    Each person was handed a knife.

    As the door mmed shut, everyone drew their des. In an instant, the room descended into savagery-people turning on each other like cornered animals.

    The tiny space became a ughterhouse, blood pooling everywhere, the sheer redness almost blinding.

    Una and Hanson shielded Citrine behind them, fending off the chaos. When the fighting finally died down, only the five of them were left standing. The room, thick with the stench of blood and fear, fell into an eerie silence.

    Nine peopley dead. Only one more had to die for the rest to walk free.

    Sellers suddenly turned, his gazending on Citrine behind Una, eyes sharp as a de. "Una, let me kill her."

    A savage hunger flickered in his eyes.

    Among the five of them, Citrine was the weakest. If they sacrificed her, the rest would be spared.

    The moment Sellers looked at her, Citrine understood his intent. A chill ran through her, leaving her blood cold.

    She took a cautious step back, hand moving to her knife, ready to defend herself. But before she could act, Una stepped forward, arms spread wide to shield her. She red at Sellers, fury burning in her voice. "She''s our apprentice, Sellers! If you can''t even spare your own apprentice, what kind of person are you?"

    After three years together, Una hade to see Citrine as her own.

    For just a heartbeat, something like guilt flickered in Sellers'' eyes-but it was quickly swallowed by the twisted resolve on his face.

 Chapter 174

    His tone was resolute. "I don''t want this either, but today, one of us has to die before this door will open. She''s the weakest."

    "If you want to me someone, me her for being too weak."

    Una nced at Farris, who was standing beside Sellers. "Is that how you see it too?" she asked.

    Farris said nothing, but drew his knife in silent reply.

    Una read their intentions instantly. Her eyes turned cold and sharp. "Citrine, I''m not letting them touch you. As long as I''m breathing, no one is going to hurt you."

    She took a few steps back, pulled out her own knife, and positioned herself protectively in front of Citrine, ready to fight.

    Hanson stepped back with her, his gaze steady as he looked at the others. "For the past three years, Citrine has been like a little sister to me. If you want to kill her, you''ll have to go through me first."

    Seeing their determination, Sellers and Farris dropped the pretense and attacked without another word.

    Una was a woman and Hanson was just a teenager-neither stood a chance physically against the two burly men. The fight was quick and brutal. Within moments, both Una and Hanson were wounded and sprawled on the ground, unable to move.

    Citrine, terrified she''d only make things worse, had hesitated to get closer. But as Sellers raised his knife, ready to drive it into Una''s chest, Citrine rushed forward, clutching her own de.

    She plunged it hard into Sellers'' back.

    Roaring in pain, Sellers spun around and grabbed Citrine, ready to finish her off. At the same time, Una lunged forward, trying to stop him. In the chaos, Sellers'' knife drove straight into Una''s chest, even as Una''s own de found Sellers'' throat.

    Both copsed, dead before they hit the ground.

    Across the room, Farris stabbed Hanson in the gut. The boy bled out instantly.

    The two people who had cared for Citrine most were gone.

    And finally, the door opened.

    Citrine knelt in the dirt, clutching Una''s and Hanson''s bodies, sobbing uncontrobly. As the door creaked open, she sprang at the ind''s master, sinking her teeth into his hand, her eyes burning with hatred. "I''ll kill you!" she snarled.

    "You little beast, let go!" The ind master yanked her hair, trying to kick her off.

    But Citrine wouldn''t let go. She nearly bit off half his finger before they managed to pry her loose with a stun baton, shocking her until she went limp.

    Afterward, she was beaten again for her defiance.

    But once her wounds healed, Citrine made up her mind: she would escape this hell, no matter what it took.

    In three years, she had learned every route on the ind. That very night, she put her n into action.

    She''d tried to run countless times before¡ªeach attempt ending in disaster and nearly costing her life. But this time, she got away clean. Citrine finally escaped the ind.

    At that exact moment, miles away, Raymond jolted awake from his sleep.

    He sat up abruptly, wiping the tears from his face. He no longer believed these were just dreams. He knew now that everything he saw was real.

    The first thing he did was order Adler tounch a full-scale strike against the Iverson family. The second was to investigate any connection between Crestwood, the Glenwood family, and Mirage Cay.

    The Carmichael family held considerable power in Havencrest, but in Crestwood, they were outmatched. If Mirage Cay was truly linked to Glenwood, Raymond knew he might not be able to protect his daughter.

    He had only one option: make the Carmichael Group even stronger.

    That same night, Raymond caught a red-eye flight home.

    When hended, he went straight to the old family estate.

    It had been over a month since Citrinest saw Raymond. When they finally met

    again, she noticed immediately-he looked exhausted, worn to the bone.

 Chapter 175

    Raymond had always been a picture of boundless energy in Citrine''s memory, so seeing him so worn out now took her by surprise. She frowned, unable to hide her worry. "What happened to you? You look terrible."

    To get back as soon as possible, Raymond had worked almost nonstop, day and night, barely resting. On top of that, he kept having restless dreams about Citrine''s childhood, gnawing away at him with guilt and regret. The stress had even sent him to the emergency room recently, leaving him in rough shape.

    Not wanting Citrine to worry, Raymond forced a reassuring smile. "Just had a rough night, that''s all. Nothing to worry about."

    Citrine shot him a pointed look and scoffed, "How many times do I have to tell you? You need to take care of yourself."

    Her tone was prickly as ever, but even she didn''t realize just how much concern was hidden in her words.

    Raymond, however, caught it instantly. For a moment, he was taken aback-then a wave of joy washed over him, banishing a good bit of the exhaustion that had weighed him down for over a month.

    He grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Sounds to me like my daughter''s finally starting to worry about her old man. That makes me happy."

    "I am not worried about you!" Citrine''s eyes went wide, bristling like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.

    Raymond couldn''t help butugh. "Alright, alright, I must''ve been imagining things."

    "Come on, let''s go home," he said, reaching for her bag. Today, he''de with every intention of taking Citrine back with him.

    But before he could take another step, a booming voice rang out from upstairs.

    "You''re not taking my granddaughter anywhere!" Weston came hurrying down the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the old house.

    If he hadn''t been upte and overheard their conversation, Raymond probably would''ve spirited Citrine away already.

    Weston''s face was set in a scowl as he red at Raymond. "Raymond, you can go home by yourself. Citrine''s staying here with me."

    Raymond could only sigh. "Dad, she''s my daughter. Can we be reasonable for once?"

    His father never used to be this stubborn. Lately, though, he seemed to be getting

    worse.

    "She''s still my granddaughter! If you take her away, who''s going to y chess with me? Who''ll go fishing with me?" Weston dug in his heels, refusing to budge.

    Raymond rubbed his temples, feeling a headacheing on. "Dad, please don''t be so unreasonable."

    He turned to Citrine. "What about you? Do you want to stay here at the old house, ore home with me?" To him, her wishes came first.

    If she preferred the old house, he''d just move back in himself if he had to.

    Citrine nced between her grandfather and her father, then answered, "I want to go home with you." It had been a long time since she''dst been home, and she missed it.

    Weston, who had been protesting loudly just a moment ago, fell silent at her words. Still, he couldn''t help grumbling, "Ungrateful brat. Go on, get out of here."

    He fished a card from his pocket and thrust it into Citrine''s hand, not taking no for an answer.

    "The pin''s your birthday. Now take it and go."

    With that, the old man turned his back, pretending not to care.

    Over the past month, Weston had insisted on Citrine keeping himpany¡ª ying chess, fishing, just spending time together. While she always acted reluctant, Weston could feel her patience, and it warmed his heart. Not many young people would bother to keep an old manpany like that.

    Getting older meant feeling lonelier, and having someone nearby-even a stubborn granddaughter-brought back a sense of warmth and happiness he hadn''t felt in years. Most importantly, Citrine never treated him like some intimidating patriarch; to her, he was just a regr grandpa.

    Regina and Vicente used to visit often, too, but Weston always sensed a certain nervousness when they were around. Every time they yed chess or went fishing, they seemed to be watching his mood, afraid of upsetting him. It was like they were dealing with a boss: polite, but distant.

 Chapter 176

    Citrine quietly epted the bank card, feeling the weight of Weston''s attachment

    as she prepared to leave. She nced back at him. "I''lle visit often, I promise."

    "Go on, get out of here," Weston replied, waving her off with a gruff smile.

    The very next day, a text message arrived.

    Patten: Chairwoman, Sawyer''s willing to hand over fifty percent of the Iverson family''s shares in exchange for Holbrook''s medical treatment. But Holbrook''s condition has taken a sharp turn for the worse-he likely won''t survive surgery. Only you can handle this. Do you want to take the case?

    Fifty percent. Citrine couldn''t help but smirk: Sawyer was truly desperate. Without those shares, the Iverson Group would be teetering on the edge of bankruptcy.

    Perfect. Time to finish what fate had started.

    Citrine''s lips curled into a cold smile as she quickly replied: Tell him to transfer the shares first.

    That same day, Sawyer signed over the shares to Patten, who immediately transferred them to Citrine.

    With the paperwork done, Citrine and Patten headed to the Iverson family''s old estate that afternoon.

    Sawyer looked genuinely surprised when he saw Citrine. "What are you doing here?"

    Patten cast him a disinterested nce and replied in a cold tone, "I brought her to check on Holbrook. Is there a problem?"

    Sawyer just assumed Citrine was tagging along and shrugged it off. "No problem at all. This way, please."

    As soon as Citrine stepped inside, a teacup came hurtling straight at her.

    "Citrine, how dare you show your face here!" Clifford stormed forward, grabbing her by the cor with a murderous re.

    Patten jumped, about to intervene, but Citrine was faster. She pped Clifford, hard, right across the face.

    Her voice was icy. "If you want your grandfather to live, you''d better back off."

    She hadn''t held back-blood trickled from the corner of Clifford''s mouth as he stood there, stunned and speechless.

    Ignoring him, Citrine strode forward to examine Holbrook.

    Aline rushed over, dragging Citrine aside. "Citrine, stop causing trouble-let Dr. Reed handle this."

    Sawyer and the rest of the Iverson family red at her with open hostility.

    Sawyer''s voice was cold. "Citrine, I specifically invited Dr. Reed today. Don''t interfere again."

    After all the times Citrine had ruined his ns in the past, Sawyer was wary. Patten''s face darkened with anger. Idiots, the whole lot of them.

    He turned to the family and exined, "Holbrook''s condition is unique-surgery isn''t an option. Citrine is the only one who can help him. I asked her toe." Shock rippled across the room.

    Aline stared at Citrine in disbelief. "She''s just a student! How could she possibly help?"

    "Exactly, Dr. Reed-she''s just a kid," Sawyer scoffed, equally skeptical.

    Patten''s expression turned thunderous. "I''m the director of St. Raphael''s¡ªI don''t joke about things like this. Believe me or don''t. It''s your choice."

    Sawyer understood the stakes all too well. If St. Raphael''s couldn''t save Holbrook, there''d be nothing left to do but make funeral arrangements. His eyes grew fierce as he shot Aline a warning look. "Enough. Let Citrine take a look."

    As Citrine examined Holbrook, her expression darkened.

    She''d kept his illness under control for months-there was no way it should have suddenly worsened like this. Something was off.

    A closer look revealed the problem: the color of Holbrook''s tongue was all wrong.

    This wasn''t a rpse.

    It looked a lot more like poison.

 Chapter 177

    It seemed Holbrook had been poisoned for quite some time; by now, the toxins had seeped deep into his organs. The only option left was to use traditional medicine-acupuncture.

    Citrine pulled out her set of needles from her bag andid them out on the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, she took one and pressed it into Holbrook''s scalp, swiftly following with a second, and then a third...

    As Citrine continued, the scene grew increasingly surreal-soon, Holbrook looked as if he''d been turned into a human pincushion. The members of the Iverson family watched in horror, unable to stifle their collective gasp.

    "Dad, are you really going to let her do this?" Clifford muttered through gritted teeth, ring daggers at Citrine. "What if she makes things worse for Grandpa? Who''s going to take responsibility then?"

    Still smarting from the p he''d received earlier, Clifford''s jaw was set tight, his voice trembling with frustration. "Think about it¡ªshe''s never shown any interest in medicine. If she knew anything about this, we''d have heard about it by now!"

    Sawyer''s expression darkened as Clifford finished. He hesitated, uncertain, when Aline chimed in, "He''s right, Sawyer. Citrine is still just a college student. What if she makes a mistake? Who''s going to answer for it if something happens to your father?"

    Aline''s eyes shed with calction, but her tone was gentle-anyone looking on would think she was the perfect daughter-inw, only concerned for her father-in-w''s well-being. "Citrine, if you really care about your grandfather, why not just give me the recipe for the herbal medicine you brewed for him before? Let me take care of it."

    She watched Citrine expectantly, the picture of patience and concern.

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh out loud.

    Aline was exactly the same as she''d been in her previous life-always scheming, always calcting, always thinking several steps ahead.

    But Holbrook''s problem wasn''t a rpse of his old illness. He''d been poisoned- badly. The toxins had already reached his vital organs. Even if she managed to pull him back from the brink, he wouldn''t have long to live.

    The so-called "remedy" was useless.

    If she handed it over to Aline and Holbrook died anyway, wouldn''t all the me fall on her? Did they really think she was that na?ve?

    Citrine stayed silent, unmoved. Aline pressed on, "Well? What do you say?"

    "Not a chance." Citrine replied tly, her voiceced with sarcasm. It was almostical how desperate Aline was to get her hands on that recipe-as if Citrine didn''t see right through her.

    She continued, "First of all, I don''t care about that old man. Second, why should I give you my recipe?"

    Her bluntness made Sawyer''s face darken. "Citrine, your aunt is just worried about your grandfather. Besides, you''ve never studied medicine-maybe it''s best if you don''t meddle."

    He was about to say more, but Citrine cut him off, her patience worn thin. "Enough. If you don''t trust me, then I''m done here."

    Without another word, she calmly pulled her precious needles out of Holbrook''s scalp and packed them away. Rising from the bed, she turned to Patten and said coolly, "Let''s go."

    "What a bunch of idiots," Patten muttered under his breath, shooting the family a contemptuous look as he followed Citrine out.

    Sawyer, realizing they were leaving, hurried after them. "Dean Reed, wait!" Patten didn''t slow down, his tone icy. "Don''t worry. The shares will be returned to you."

    With that, Citrine and Patten climbed into the car and drove off.

    Once they were on the road, Patten couldn''t hold back any longer. "Chairwoman, are you really giving up that fifty percent stake?"

    Citrine leaned back, eyes half-closed as she gazed out the window. "Of course not," she said with quiet resolve. "The Iverson Group will be mine."

    Patten, still baffled by her strategy, scratched his head. "So...should we go back?"

    Citrine twirled a strand of hair around her finger, her voice bored. "Why bother? Am I supposed to beg them to let me treat Holbrook?"

    Her tone grew even colder. "They''re not even worth my time."

    "Of course not." Seeing how calm she was, Patten finally rxed. He was beginning to understand her game.

 Chapter 178

    "Are you nning to just wait for the Iversons toe and beg you?" Patten wondered silently.

    Citrine shook her head, lifting her gaze with a hint of disdain. "The Iversons had their chance, but they chose to throw it away. Since that''s the case, I''ll just have to find another way to get what I want."

    Her eyes grew cold as she thought of Holbrook. "As for Holbrook... if he dies, so be it."

    She''d already given them an opportunity. If the Iversons didn''t want it, there was nothing more she could do.

    Patten listened and understood-Citrine wouldn''t step in again.

    He silently cursed the Iversons for beingplete idiots. They didn''t even know how to value the opportunity right in front of them.

    They should''ve been grateful that the chairwoman herself was willing to help. Who would''ve thought this bunch of fools would doubt her medical expertise?

    Bunch of morons. They''d regret this sooner orter.

    Holbrook''s poisoning was severe, but if Citrine stepped in, he could have easily lived another decade or more.

    But they chose not to believe her. Absolutely clueless.

    In the days that followed, CICI Group teamed up with several otherpanies to put the squeeze on the Iverson Group. At the same time, on the very day the Iverson Group held aunch event to promote theirtest medical device, CICI Group hosted their own event, rolling out a cutting-edge smart medical device co- developed with Kane.

    The two giants openly went head-to-head, sparking a huge stir throughout Havencrest.

    CICI Group crushed the Iverson Group without breaking a sweat. Both productsunched the same day, but CICI''s smart device-with Kane''s name attached_ became an overnight sensation, selling out worldwide. Meanwhile, the Iverson Group''stest conventional device barely drew a second nce.

    Medical devices had always been the Iverson Group''s most profitable venture, the backbone of their empire since day one. Every year, they poured hundreds of millions into this line. This year, Sawyer had hoped to use it to patch up their finances¡ªbut instead, it all went up in smoke.

    With CICI Group''s superior smart tech on the market, it was as if the Iversons'' foundation had been ripped out from under them.

    Meanwhile, Citrine nced at a message from her assistant and discovered that the Carmichael Group had also been hammering the Iversons thesest few days. Just to keep the Iverson Group''s scandals trending, the Carmichaels had dumped over a billion dors into media buys and smear campaigns.

    Citrine was stunned when she saw the figure. Had Raymond lost his mind? Without a second thought, she called him.

    Across town, Raymond was in the middle of tearing into his staff when his phone rang. The disy showed his daughter''s name, and he immediately paused, raising a hand to halt the executive briefing in progress. "Hold on, I need to take a call from my daughter."

    Without another word, he answered the call right there in front of everyone. "Hey, Citrine. What''s up?" Raymond''s voice turned uncharacteristically gentle. Citrine was livid¡ªher anger bled through her words. "Did you seriously spend over a billion dors to dig up dirt on the Iversons?"

    Raymond blinked. "How did you find out?"

    Despite her effort to stay calm, Citrine couldn''t help but shout, "Raymond, are you out of your mind? Throwing that much money at the Iversons-do you have cash to burn or what?"

    Her outburst echoed through the Carmichael Group''s boardroom. Every executive stared at the boss, secretly anxious for his daughter''s sake.

    Everyone knew their boss had a legendary temper. He was always the one losing it at others¡ªnever the other way around. This was the first time anyone had dared to shout at him, even if it was his own daughter.

 Chapter 179

    At that moment, everyone in the conference room was already picturing President Carmichael storming home to give his daughter a good scolding.

    But just as they braced themselves for their usually stern boss to unleash his temper, they heard President Carmichael¡ªof all people-speaking into the phone a voice so soft and oddly high-pitched that it barely sounded like him, or even like a man at all. "Citrine, don''t be mad, sweetheart. Daddy just wanted to stand up for you."

    Raymond paused, then added, "And it was just a little over a billion. It''s really not that much."

    The senior executives exchanged nces. The world of the rich was clearly beyond theirprehension.

    There had always been rumors that President Carmichael doted on his daughter, but this was the first time any of them had seen it with their own eyes.

    This wasn''t just doting-it was full-blown daddy''s girl territory.

    Raymond now sat frowning, clearly surprised that Citrine was upset over this.

    Meanwhile, on the other end of the call, Citrine waspletely stunned by what she''d just heard, suddenly at a loss for words.

    "But... but you can''t just... throw money around like that," she stammered. We''re talking over a billion dors here, not pocket change. Just thinking about it made her wince.

    Raymond was amused. Turns out, Citrine had called because she thought he was being reckless with money. "Don''t worry, honey. I know when to save and when to spend. Besides, your old man will make plenty more. Someday, it''ll all be yours." "Alright, I have to get back to work. Talkter." On the other end, Citrine, flustered and embarrassed, hurriedly found an excuse and hung up.

    Raymond looked at his phone, grinning. "Shy, are we?" he chuckled.

    What he didn''t know was that the entire exchange with his daughter had been recorded and sent straight to thepany''s group chat.

    The Carmichael Group''s employee chat was now buzzing with excitement.

    "Wait, is that really our sharp-tongued President Carmichael?"

    "He yells at us all day at work, but goes home and gets bossed around by his daughter. Hrious."

    "President Carmichael''s daughter is a force of nature-she actually made him squeak! I can''t stopughing."

    "If thepany ever goes under, President Carmichael won''t even need to worry. He can just do voiceovers for his daughter and make a fortune."

    "Speaking of money, I''m dying of jealousy. Over a billion dors just to back up his daughter? What kind of family is this?"

    "I never thought President Carmichael was such a pushover for his daughter. Anyone know if he''s looking to adopt another one?"

    ...

    Meanwhile, The Iverson Group, which had already taken a severe hitst time, was finished for good after thistest disaster.

    All their funds had been sunk into a medical device project. Now that the project had copsed, there was no money left to pay anyone-from the executives who were owed stock dividends to the workers waiting for their wages.

    Downstairs, a crowd of workers demanding their pay had blocked every entrance to the Iverson Group building.

    Inside, Sawyer and Norton sat holed up in their office, too afraid to set foot outside.

    Both men sat in grim silence, chain-smoking, when suddenly Sawyer''s phone rang.

    "Hello? Who is this?" Sawyer''s voice was hoarse.

    "It''s Carlotta."

    "Carlotta?" Sawyer immediately stubbed out his cigarette, springing to his feet.

    There was bitterness in his voice. "You calling to gloat now?"

    Even now, Sawyer still had no idea how he''d managed to offend the CICI Group. If The Carmichael Group hade after them for Citrine''s sake, what about the CICI Group? What did they want?

 Chapter 180

    Sawyer just couldn''t wrap his head around it.

    Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, Carlotta spoke up. "Mr. Iverson, how about this? Ten million to buy out Iverson Enterprises. What do you say?"

    Sawyer froze at her words. Instead of answering, he countered with a question. "Can I ask why you''re doing this to me? I''ve never crossed yourpany, CICI Holdings."

    Carlotta chuckled. "Mr. Iverson, do you really need a reason? In business, it''s survival of the fittest. The strong make the rules, and you simply weren''t strong enough."

    She paused for a moment, then added, "I''ll give you three days to think it over."

    With that, Carlotta hung up without waiting for a reply.

    Sawyer''s knuckles turned white as he gripped his phone.

    Iverson Enterprises was the work of his life. There was no way he could just stand by and watch it get sold off.

    Later that afternoon, Sawyer took Norton with him to Citrine''s school.

    They arrived early and waited outside the gates of Primus Academy.

    Citrine had barely stepped out before the two of them stopped her.

    "You two again?" Citrine raised an eyebrow, but there was no real surprise in her eyes.

    "We need to talk," Sawyer said in a calm, measured tone.

    "Alright," Citrine agreed easily. She was in a good mood today and didn''t mind humoring them.

    They found a nearby caf¨¦.

    No sooner had they sat down than Sawyer slid a contract across the table toward Citrine.

    She barely reacted, flipping through a few pages with bored detachment before snapping it shut.

    Sawyer looked at her, voice gentle. "Didn''t you always want to join thepany? Well, I''ve decided to let you."

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh. "You forget how much you hated the idea before Iverson Enterprises hit trouble? Back then, you wouldn''t even give me a single percent of the shares."

    "And now, suddenly you''re willing to hand me fifteen percent? How generous. But let me guess-the catch is that you want me to convince the Carmichael Group to bail you out, right?"

    She finished, fixing Sawyer with a cold stare.

    "How did you know?" Sawyer and Norton stared at her in shock. Neither of them had expected Citrine to see through their n so easily.

    "Did you really think I was as clueless as you?" Citrine sneered.

    Sawyer met her gaze and spoke earnestly. "Citrine, Iverson Enterprises is on the verge of bankruptcy. The only way out is if the Carmichael Group steps in. If Raymond is willing to help, the fifteen percent is yours-no strings attached."

    "No strings? You mean it''s not an exchange? Funny way to put it."

    "Sawyer, has anyone ever told you how much you and your daughter resemble each other?" Citrine''s tone was icy. "Last time, Jete came to me with a simr contract and the same conditions."

    Like father, like daughter. The apple really didn''t fall far from the tree.

    Without another word, Citrine picked up the contract and tore it to shreds right in front of them.

    "If you want me to convince Raymond, keep dreaming. Honestly, I''d love to see Raymond put even more pressure on your precious family. The fact that you thought I''d help you? That''s just pathetic."

    "Citrine, how can you be so heartless? The Iversons are about to lose everything, and you''re just going to watch? How can you be so cruel?" Norton, usuallyposed and reserved, couldn''t keep his temper in check.

    Citrine didn''t even flinch. She met Norton''s gaze, eyes full of cold amusement. "I''m heartless? Norton, the real heartless ones are you and Clifford. Did you forget what it was like fighting stray dogs for scraps in the orphanage? Who pulled you out of that gutter and brought you into the Iverson family? Don''t you dare forget." "If it wasn''t for me, you''d still be a nobody on the street."

 Chapter 181

    After returning from the Carmichael estate, Norton found himself lost in thought.

    Three-year-old Citrine was a quiet, withdrawn child. In her tiny world, her father Sawyer was the only person she let in; she refused to let anyone else cross that line.

    Sawyer, wanting Citrine to have friends her own age, had decided to adopt two children so she wouldn''t have to grow up alone.

    The first time Norton met Citrine at the orphanage, she was wearing a frilly princess dress, peeking out shyly from Sawyer''s arms. Her big, innocent eyes were full of curiosity.

    Back then, Norton was nine. He was locked in a daily struggle for survival,peting with the orphanage''s dogs for food. That day, he let the dogs bite and scratch him as he wrestled a half-eaten chicken drumstick from their jaws-he was desperate, and the hunger gnawed at his insides.

    When the dogs finally left, Norton carefully pulled the battered drumstick from his pocket and wiped it off on his sleeve.

    Moving slowly, wincing from pain, he limped over to his little brother Clifford and held out the drumstick.

    "Eat up, kiddo," he said gently.

    Clifford turned his face away, swallowing hard. "You eat, big brother. I''m not hungry."

    "You need it more. I''m not hungry," Norton replied, forcing a smile as he ruffled Clifford''s hair. His head was spinning from hunger, but he didn''t even nce at the food.

    Clifford tried to refuse, but Norton insisted. Finally, the little boy gave in, clutching the drumstick and gnawing at it hungrily.

    That was when Norton noticed the pink-cheeked girl watching him from a distance.

    She was a rosy little thing, cradled in the arms of an elegant man who kept nting gentle kisses on her cheek-clearly a doting father.

    It was obvious the girl had grown up surrounded by love, a world apart from the harsh reality Norton and Clifford knew. She was like a cloud-soft, untouched, unreachable.

    Norton was about to look away when the little girl tilted her head and gave him a sweet, dazzling smile.

    She was adorable. Norton felt his heart melt.

    Suddenly, she snuggled closer to her father, pointed at Norton, and said, "Daddy, I want that boy to y with me."

    Sawyer followed her gaze and saw Norton, filthy and ragged from fighting the dogs.

    At nine, Norton was old enough to understand the difference between his world and hers. Sawyer saw it too, and for a moment, he hesitated. Someone like Norton might be dangerous for a delicate child like Citrine.

    He paused, pinched Citrine''s chubby cheek, and asked softly, "Citrine, sweetheart, this boy is much older than you. Wouldn''t you rather have a friend your own age?"

    "But Daddy, I only want him as my brother," Citrine insisted stubbornly-for the first time, not giving in.

    Sawyer sighed, rubbing his temples.

    After a long moment, he nodded. "Alright, we''ll bring him home for you." He couldn''t bear to see Citrine upset, so in the end, he agreed.

    Citrine lit up with joy. She wriggled out of Sawyer''s arms and bounded over to Norton.

    "Come home with me, big brother!" she eximed, her face beaming with delight. She didn''t hesitate, barreling right into his arms. She was all softness and warmth, like a little ball of cotton, and Norton found himself enveloped in her gentle embrace.

    Afraid she might stumble, Norton stayed still, letting her hug him. A sweet, milky scent washed over him, and for a moment, his heart trembled.

    In that orphanage, aside from his brother, no one ever wanted to be near Norton. Citrine''s open affection was a sudden, unexpected warmth for his cold, lonely heart.

    She would never know it, but in that moment-when she asked to take him home -Norton felt an ache in his chest and a sudden urge to cry.

 Chapter 182

    Norton was the oldest child at the orphanage. In this ce, the younger kids were usually the first to be adopted, leaving behind those like him-children who were either living with disabilities or, like Norton and his little brother, simply too old or too prickly in personality to catch anyone''s eye.

    "Why me?" he asked. Norton had overheard the entire conversation between the little girl and her father, but he couldn''t understand why she wanted to choose

    him.

    He was already nine years old-the oldest one left here. There were so many other kids she could have picked.

    He stood there in silence, until the little girl''s triumphant voice broke through his thoughts.

    "No real reason! I just like you. I want you toe home with me and y with me forever." She threw her arms around his waist, pressing her head against him like a little cat, nuzzling softly.

    "Forever? Won''t you get tired of me?" Norton squirmed at her touch, a bit ticklish, and took a step back to put a little distance between them.

    Seeing him retreat, the little girl''s face fell, panic flickering in her eyes. She remembered a scene she''d once seen on TV, and suddenly, she thumped her chest with determination. "I promise," she dered solemnly, "I''ll take care of you just like I take care of my dad."

    "Oh yeah? And how do you n to take care of me?" Norton couldn''t help but smile at her earnestness, though he was more touched than amused.

    After all, he was only nine-hardly in need of anyone''s care.

    The little girl frowned, thinking hard. "Well, I can y with you every day, and pick you up after school."

    That made Nortonugh out loud.

    Little Citrine, thinking that wasn''t enough to prove her devotion, hesitated a moment, then said through obvious reluctance, "Then...I guess I''ll share my favorite cookies with you too. Even if it''s my veryst one, you can have it. How''s that?"

    Her lower lip trembled as she spoke, clearly feeling the sacrifice.

    Norton couldn''t help butugh again, utterly charmed by her sincerity.

    As he grinned, he suddenly felt a small, gentle hand slip into his. Looking down,

    he saw the little girl gazing up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

    "Will youe home with me?" she asked, her voice soft and sweet, as she clung to his hand.

    Norton''s heart melted. He crouched down and scooped her into his arms, whispering in her ear, "Alright. I''lle home with you."

    Just as the little girl beamed and tugged him along to meet her father, Norton stopped in his tracks.

    He couldn''t help it¡ªmaybe it was selfish, maybe even sneaky-but he couldn''t leave his brother behind in the orphanage.

    He met her big, dark eyes, suddenly struck by a new idea. Holding her close, he whispered, "Hey, would you want to have another brother? Someone who could y with us too?"

    She paused, thinking it over, her bright eyes searching his. "Is that what you want? You want your brother toe with us too?"

    Her question was simple, direct, and innocent.

    Norton froze, caught off guard by her honesty. In that moment, her pure heart seemed to shine a light into all the dark corners of his own.

    "How did you know?" he managed after a long pause.

    "I saw you, you know. You always let your brother have thest bite, even when you were hungry." She hugged his neck, her face shining with mischief and pride.

 Chapter 183

    Norton never imagined that his most humiliating moment would be witnessed by the little one.

    He had already formed the words in his mind, ready to coax her into taking

    Clifford with her as well. But when he looked at her innocent face, he just couldn''t bring himself to say them.

    She was pure, untouched by the world''s ugliness-someone he shouldn''t deceive.

    Norton silently berated himself for even considering such a low tactic.

    Just then, the little girl tugged gently on his sleeve, her wide, trusting eyes fixed on him. "If bringing your brother home too would make you happy, I''ll ask Dad. I''ll tell him to bring both of you back with me."

    Norton''s head shot up in surprise.

    "You''d really do that?" His voice trembled, eyes stinging as they filled with tears.

    "If you''re happy, then I''m happy too." She grinned and threw her arms around him, nuzzling into his chest.

    And so, thanks to Citrine, both Norton and Clifford ended up returning with Sawyer to the Iverson family estate.

    At first, the brothers were nervous-strangers in a new home-but Citrine''s warmth quickly drew them in, and before long, they felt like part of the family.

    Those memories had faded so much that Norton could barely recall them anymore. But ever since Citrine had spoken those words, the past hade rushing back, every detail suddenly vivid and clear.

    Norton couldn''t help but reflect-had he really been too cold toward Citrine all these years?

    Yet the thought vanished almost as soon as it arose, and any trace of guilt dissolved.

    After all, Citrine had be more and more outrageous over the years. A flood of unwee memories surfaced.

    The year he was supposed to take his entrance exams, mischievous Citrine locked him in his room on purpose, causing him to miss the test-and as a result, he ended up in a private high school instead of the prestigious one he''d aimed for.

    Or the time she filled his room with fresh flowers, knowing full well he was allergic to pollen.

    But the moment that truly broke him was the summer he took Citrine scuba diving. When her oxygen tank malfunctioned, he didn''t hesitate: he took off his own mask and put it on her, using thest of his strength to push her up to the surface. Exhausted, he sank rapidly toward the bottom.

    But Citrine, terrified, simply ran off on her own-she didn''t call for help, didn''t look back.

    After that, whatever affection he''d had left for his little sister vanishedpletely.

    In the days that followed, Sawyer and Norton did everything they could-calling in favors, exhausting every option, pushing themselves to the brink.

    Neither slept for days. Stubble shadowed their jaws, and their eyes were rimmed with fatigue.

    But it was no use: the Iverson family stock continued to plummet. On the fourth day, desperation finally forced Sawyer''s hand. He picked up the phone.

    "Hello. I''m ready to sell." His voice was hoarse, worn thin by exhaustion and the constant haze of cigarettes and whiskey.

    There was a long silence on the other end.

    Sawyer tamped down the anxiety threatening to overwhelm him and repeated, "Ms. Yarbrough, I admit defeat. I''m willing to sell the Iverson Group to CICI Group."

    The instant the words left his lips, Carlotta replied, all business.

    "Eight million."

    Sawyer''s face darkened. "What? You promised ten million."

    His voice shook with anger, but he forced himself to stay calm. "How can you go back on your word?"

    Carlotta''s light, almost mocking voice came through the line. "Mr. Iverson, today is the fourth day."

    "And you''re the one who broke the agreement, not us."

 Chapter 184

    Sawyer''s heart plummeted.

    He hesitated for a moment, then tried to bargain, his tone almost pleading. "How about nine million?"

    Carlotta didn''t miss a beat. "Mr. Iverson, don''t try to haggle with me. Your family''s stock price has tanked so badly even your own mother wouldn''t recognize it. Do I look like an idiot to you?"

    "Fine. Deal," Sawyer finally managed, wincing at the words.

    He nodded, resignation clear on his face.

    In the CICI Group''s executive office suite, Citrine was busy leading Travis and a few others through another online game. The door was ajar, so after finishing her call, Carlotta stepped right in.

    She saw Citrinepletely absorbed in the game, her face cycling through a kaleidoscope of intense and animated expressions. Carlotta held back augh- no one would ever guess she was looking at thepany''s CEO. If anything, Citrine looked more like a college gamer girl than the head of a major corporation.

    While other CEOS spent their days in endless meetings, theirs seemed to havee to the office just to rack up points in her favorite game. In fact, since Carlotta had joined thepany, she''d noticed that most of Citrine''s time in the office was spent gaming.

    If Carlotta hadn''t witnessed Citrine''s almost superhuman abilities and her impressivework of connections firsthand, she would have been tempted to ask: *Aren''t you worried thepany will go under if you spend all day gaming?*

    Two minutester, as soon as Citrine finished her match, Carlotta finally spoke up. "Boss, it''s done just like you predicted."

    Carlotta had been worried Sawyer might refuse, but things had yed out exactly as Citrine had said they would.

    Her boss really was uncannily prescient.

    "Well done," Citrine replied, entirely unsurprised. It was as if everything had unfolded exactly ording to her n.

    After a pause, Citrine suddenly looked up at her. "So, what kind of reward would you like?"

    "Reward?" Carlotta''s eyes widened in shock.

    Wasn''t doing your job just... part of the job? You got a reward for that? She felt like an absolute rookie.

    To be fair, this was her first time working for a bigpany, and she still wasn''t used to the perks.

    Her mind shed back to her old job, where she''d busted her tail for peanuts¡ª barely enough to scrape by-while doing the work of three people, cleaning the office on top of everything else, and constantly dodging her sleazy boss''s advances.

    Compared to that, her life now felt like paradise.

    Carlotta genuinely didn''t want anything more.

    Moved, she looked at Citrine and dered, "Boss, I don''t want any reward. As long as I can keep working here, that''s all I want."

    CICI Group paid well, offered flexible hours, great benefits, and even provided meals and housing. It was the kind ofpany she''d happily devote her whole life to.

    "You may not want a reward, but I insist," Citrine said, a rare smile breaking across her face. In her past life and this one, she''d never met someone so genuinely selfless. "You''ve worked hard these past few days."

    "How about this: effective today, your sry''s going up to $6,000 a month. Plus, thepany''s giving you a $1,000 bonus this month, and you can take three extra days off to visit your brother at the hospital."

    Citrine had noticed everything Carlotta had dely, and she wasn''t about to let that dedication go unrewarded.

    "Six thousand? Oh my god!" Carlotta''s jaw dropped as emotion welled up inside her.

    She''d already been earning three grand a month-now her pay had just doubled overnight.

    It felt like she''d just been hit by a tidal wave of good fortune.

    Heavens, what did she ever do to deserve a boss like Citrine?

    Carlotta silently vowed that from this day forward, she''d treat thepany like her own family.

 Chapter 185

    Not a single breeze stirred in Havencrest''s summer air. The moment Citrine

    stepped out of her car, a wave of heat washed over her, leaving her feeling as if she''d been trapped inside a steaming sauna. The suffocating warmth pressed in from all sides.

    Just a few days earlier, Travis had been in a biking ident-someone had hit him, and the doctor insisted he recover at home. With Travis falling behind on his studies, Citrine had offered toe by and tutor him, which he''d agreed to after a brief discussion.

    She followed the location Travis had sent her, and by the time she found his house, it was already eight in the morning.

    Citrine pressed the doorbell.

    A woman she''d never seen before answered the door. The Carmichaels'' housekeeper, Zelda, eyed Citrine with a hint of wariness before asking, "Miss, may I help you?"

    Citrine offered a polite smile. "Hello, I''m Travis''s sister. Manley is my uncle."

    "I''m here to help Travis catch up with his lessons today."

    Zelda hesitated.

    The truth was, both Mr. Carmichael and his nephew had always been notoriously reclusive. Since Zelda started working here, she''d never once seen Travis bring a friend home. As for Mr. Carmichael, aside from the asional visit from a close confidant, he never had guests over either.

    Outside of Mr. Carmichael''s old friends, this girl was the first visitor ever to set foot in the Carmichael home.

    "Please,e in," Zelda said atst. Though surprised, she stepped aside and let Citrine in with polite formality.

    The moment Citrine crossed the threshold, it felt as though the light had been dialed down several notches.

    Despite the early hour, the heavy curtains were drawn tight across every window, blocking out every sliver of sunlight. Citrine had to squint to make out the details of the d¨¦cor, which was all somber hues and shadowy corners. The ce was a study in gloom, as if sunlight had been banished for good. Even in broad daylight, it felt like the sun would never rise here again.

    There was no hope.

    Zelda nced up the staircase, looking a bit embarrassed. "The young master isn''t up yet," she admitted. Travis was infamous for his terrible morning mood, and Zelda wouldn''t dare disturb him.

    She nced through the window at Manley, who was in the garden practicing standing, and added with some hesitation, "And Mr. Carmichael is exercising at the moment. He''s not to be interrupted either. Please, have a seat. I''ll bring you something to drink."

    Ever since his ident, Mr. Carmichael''s moods had been unpredictable. Zelda shuddered at the memory of thest time she''d tried to help him after a fall during his morning exercises-he''dshed out at her with a fury that left her rattled for days.

    Once Zelda left, Citrine became aware of faint soundsing from the garden. She was wearing her hearing aids today; the smallest noises reached her with startling rity.

    Peering into the little garden, Citrine listened. Suddenly, a dull thud echoed across the yard, followed by a man''s muffled cry.

    It sounded bad-a heavy fall.

    Worried that someone might be hurt, Citrine rose from the sofa and hurried out.

    When she reached the garden, she found Manley sprawled on the ground. His jaw was clenched, eyes bloodshot, his gaze icy with despair. He pounded his fists against his legs over and over, as if punishing them for betraying him.

    Without thinking, Citrine rushed to his side and helped him up.

    Manley was so lost in his pain he hadn''t even noticed her approach. Feeling hands supporting his arm, he jerked away sharply, his face set in a stony re.

    "I told you, Zelda," he snapped, voice cold. "Leave me alone."

    His tone grew harsher: "Get out. I want to be by myself."

    Citrine hadn''t expected him to shove her away so suddenly. The force of it sent her stumbling back several steps before she managed to steady herself.

 Chapter 186

    At that moment, Manley sank heavily back onto the floor, pounding his legs in frustration, his eyes clouded with a sickly, brooding darkness.

    Citrine nced up at the ss ceiling of the conservatory, then lowered her gaze. Although it was meant to be a sunlit garden, heavy curtains and ckout panels sealed out every trace of light, leaving the space in shadow.

    She could sense that Manley was in a foul mood, but she didn''t get angry. Instead, she walked over and crouched in front of him, gently intercepting his fists before he could strike his legs again.

    "Uncle."

    Manley jerked his head up, staring straight into Citrine''s calm, steady eyes.

    "Citrine? What are you doing here?" He blinked at her in surprise. Until now, he''d assumed it was Zelda who hade in.

    "I''m here to help Travis with his homework." Seeing that he''d stopped hurting himself, Citrine released his hands.

    "Did I scare you just now?" Manley was suddenly overwhelmed with self-loathing as he recalled how harshly he''d treated her just moments before.

    "You''re not a monster, Uncle. Why would you scare me?" Citrine met his gaze, making no mention of his earlier outburst, as if it had never happened.

    Without another word, she helped Manley up from the floor and into his wheelchair, draping a light nket over his legs as she did so.

    This time, Manley didn''t push her away.

    He was caught a little off guard by Citrine''s easy manner. But soon, a new wave of difort washed over him.

    Not only had Citrine witnessed his breakdown, she''d also seen his legs- shrunken, twisted, and utterly useless.

    Those hideous legs. She must be disgusted, he thought. Even he couldn''t bear to look at them, let alone anyone else.

    Sitting in his wheelchair, Manley clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. He went pale, sinking deeper into a pit of self-reproach.

    Just then, he felt a small, gentle hand cover his own.

    Carefully, Citrine pried open his clenched fist, concern shining in her eyes. "Uncle, you''re bleeding."

    Only then did Manley notice the blood trickling from his palm.

    "Where''s the first aid kit?" Citrine asked quietly.

    Before she''d even finished speaking, Zelda''s raised voice echoed from the

    doorway. "Miss Citrine, what are you doing in here?"

    Zelda had spotted Citrine crouching in front of Manley and immediately assumed

    she must have upset him. Her heart leapt into her throat.

    Without thinking, Zelda stammered an apology to Manley. "I''m so sorry, sir. I should have warned Miss Citrine that you don''t like to be disturbed. Please, don''t be angry."

    She was about to usher Citrine out when Manley cut her off.

    "Zelda, Citrine is my niece, not a stranger. There''s nowhere in this house she isn''t wee."

    He paused, then added, "And bring the first aid kit, please."

    "Yes, sir," Zelda replied, hurrying away, utterly stunned.

    In all her years working for the family, she''d never seen Manley so rxed about his privacy. His study and bedroom were strictly off-limits-no one, not even the young master, was allowed inside without permission. There were many such forbidden areas in the house.

    It suddenly hit her: Mr. Manley treated his niece differently. He clearly doted on her.

    Even more than he did on the young master.

 Chapter 187

    After Zelda dropped off the first aid kit, she quietly slipped away, leaving only Citrine and Manley alone together in the pitch-dark garden.

    With gentle care, Citrine dipped a cotton swab into the antiseptic and dabbed it softly onto Manley''s injured palm. He could feel the faint sting where the medicine touched his skin.

    Since his ident, hope had all but vanished from Manley''s life. He ate at odd hours, neglected his health, and, more than once, had turned his frustration inward in self-destructive ways. It had been ages since he''d truly taken care of himself, so it caught him off guard to realize that someone was actually worried about a trivial wound on his hand.

    For the first time in a long while, Manley felt a flicker of warmth.

    "Does it hurt?" Citrine asked, noticing the way he was watching her, her brows knit in worry. She seemed genuinely concerned.

    Manley shook his head. "It doesn''t hurt."

    In that moment, he couldn''t help but envy Raymond. How could someone be so lucky-owning a sessfulpany, and having such an adorable daughter? Why couldn''t Citrine have been his child? If she were, he would have given her everything he owned, poured out all the love in his heart for her alone. Whatever she wanted, he''d find a way to give it to her-even things he didn''t have, he''d fight to the ends of the earth to obtain for her.

    Of course, Citrine had no idea Manley was secretly wishing he could im her as his own daughter.

    Raymond had warned her before: "Stay away from your uncle-he''s not a good man." But from the very start, Citrine had sensed that Manley was different with her. There was a fondness in him, something that set her at ease every time they met.

    Realizing this gave Citrine a sudden burst of courage. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous thought, and she looked up at Manley. "Uncle, do you like the nighttime?"

    "Not really." Manley''s gaze darkened. He wasn''t sure why she''d asked, but he shook his head anyway.

    She pretended to ponder for a moment, then pressed on, "So why won''t you open the curtains in your room? Wouldn''t it be nice to let a little sunshine in?"

    Wouldn''t it be nice to let the light in?

    Her words made Manley''s heart tremble, but the hope flickered out almost as quickly as it appeared. He dropped his gaze, pain flickering in his eyes. After a long pause, he finally managed, "Even if the sun shines in, I still can''t see it."

    Ever since the ident had left him disabled, Manley had lost sight of the light- literally and figuratively. He''d spent the past five years holed up in this shadowy mansion, shutting himself off from the world.

    "If you never try, how can you be sure you''ll never see the light again?" Citrine grinned, and with a sudden burst of energy-grabbed the remote from the table and pressed a button.

    The heavy drapes slid open, flooding the room with golden sunlight. Warm rays spilled through the windows, bathing them both.

    Manley instinctively squeezed his eyes shut and raised his hand to shield himself from the brightness.

    "Uncle Manley, don''t be difficult," Citrine teased. Her words sounded like a scolding, but there was no real reproach in her tone.

    Even after she''d pulled this little stunt, Manley wasn''t angry-if anything, Citrine could finally be sure that her uncle''s fondness for her went beyond simple affection. He doted on her, perhaps even spoiled her a little.

    A yful smile curved on Citrine''s lips. "Uncle,e on-open your eyes. Isn''t the sunlight beautiful?"

    She gently tugged his hand away from his face, coaxing him to look. Reluctantly, Manley let his eyes flutter open. It had been so long since he''d seen the sun-even when he left the house, he always wore dark sunsses. Now, exposed to the light, he found himself blinking in difort, not quite used to the brightness but unable to look away.

 Chapter 188

    "Yes, it''s beautiful," Manley nodded, though he couldn''t bear to spoil the little girl''s excitement.

    Suddenly, Citrine looked up at him, her expression serious. "Uncle Manley, your legs aren''tpletely beyond hope. They can be healed."

    Hearing Citrine say that, Manley didn''t respond right away, but something inside him softened.

    He reached out and gently ruffled Citrine''s hair, his voice full of fondness. "Thank you for trying tofort me, Citrine. But I''ve already epted things as they are." "I''m not just trying tofort you," Citrine exined earnestly. "It''s the truth." "Citrine, I''ve been like this for years now. I''m used to it. Even if I can''t stand up again, it''s alright."

    By the end, Manley''s eyes clouded overpletely. He knew all too well- perhaps better than anyone-how desperately he wanted to walk again. Over the years, he''d consulted countless top doctors, and every single one had told him there was no cure. He''d given up hope long ago.

    Citrine gazed at him for a long moment before she finally spoke. "Uncle Manley, the Viridis Medical Institute just opened a branch in Havencrest. I''m sure they can help you."

    At the mention of the Viridis Medical Institute, a visible shadow passed over Manley''s face.

    "Viridis Medical Institute isn''t somece you can just walk into," he sighed. "Every day, thousands of wealthy people are lining up for a chance. People like me don''t even get close."

    Even though the Carmichael family wielded considerable influence in Havencrest, it wasn''t enough to open doors at an international medical center like Viridis. Pulling strings and backdoor favors simply wouldn''t work there.

    On the day of Viridis''s grand opening, he''d tried to see the director himself. He waited an entire day, but never even got a glimpse of the man.

    A few dayster, he tried again, only to be told that appointments for this year and the next were already fully booked. The earliest avable slot was two years away.

    He could wait-he had plenty of patience. But his legs couldn''t.

    Since returning from Viridis that day, he hadn''t stepped outside his home.

    Lost in thought, Manley was startled when a pale, delicate hand suddenly appeared in front of him, holding out a card.

    He stared in surprise at the card in Citrine''s hand. "What''s this?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

    "Uncle Manley, this is a VIP card for Viridis Medical Institute. It''s for you," Citrine replied with a bright smile, pressing the card into his palm.

    Manley turned the card over several times, examining it closely. The distinctive Viridis logo was unmistakable. His heart skipped with hope.

    "Citrine, where did you get this?" he asked, looking up at her in shock.

    Citrine hesitated for a moment before fibbing, "The director of Viridis is a friend of mine. He gave it to me."

    Manley had spent years in the business world; he could tell she was lying, but chose not to call her out.

    "I can''t ept this, Citrine," he said firmly. "What if you need it someday? This card could be a lifesaver."

    Citrine burst outughing. "A lifesaver? Uncle Manley, it''s not like it''s a magic token in a video game."

    Sensing he might still refuse, she added, "Don''t worry. I have a whole stack of these lying around in my room, just gathering dust. Please, take it."

    "You have a stack of these?" Manley''s eyes went wide, almost as if he couldn''t trust his own ears.

    "Of course," Citrine replied matter-of-factly, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.

    For a moment, Manley was at a loss for words.

    In the end, he quietly epted the card.

 Chapter 189

    At nine in the morning, Travis was still fast asleep.

    Citrine nced at the clock, then decided to head upstairs and check on him.

    His bedroom door was half open, the curtains still drawn, leaving the room in a muted gloom. Through the gap, Citrine could see Travis sprawled across the bed, arms and legs spread out.

    Seeing he was still out cold, Citrine knocked gently on the door.

    "Don''t bother me," Travis grumbled, rolling over without even opening his eyes, clearly in no mood to be disturbed.

    Citrine sighed. With a resigned shake of her head, she pushed the door open and walked straight in, crouching beside his bed.

    "Time to get up, big brother," she called softly, her voice gentle but clear.

    The moment her words registered, Travis''s eyes snapped open. He shot upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he squinted at the phone on his nightstand. Guilt shed across his face. "Sorry, Citrine. I overslept."

    He''d stayed up way toote gamingst night, and the realization that his little sister had been waiting on him made him mentally kick himself.

    "It''s okay," Citrine replied. "I''ll wait for you downstairs. Come down once you''ve washed up."

    She quietly closed the door behind her as she left.

    A few minutester, Travis trudged downstairs.

    What the-did the sun just rise in the west?

    He blinked, nearly blinded by the sunlight streaming through the windows. It struck him as surreal. For the past five years-ever since his dad hurt his leg-the house had been sealed in perpetual twilight, heavy curtains drawn tight year- round, even at lunchtime with all the lights switched on. Not a single ray of sunlight had been allowed in.

    But now, to his utter shock, he saw his dad at the breakfast table, sharing a meal with Citrine.

    He was actually eating breakfast.

    Travis slid into the seat next to Citrine, eyeing Manley as if he''d seen a ghost. "Wait... you''re eating breakfast?"

    Did the world just flip upside down? As far back as he could remember, Manley never touched breakfast.

    "What, is there a problem?" Manley shot Travis a frosty nce, clearly in no mood for nonsense.

    "N-no, no problem." Travis shrank under his father''s gaze, suddenly eager to keep his head down. For the sake of his allowance, he decided not to make a fuss.

    He ate in silence.

    After breakfast, Citrine checked her phone and turned to Travis. "Hey, Sylvan and the others messaged-they want toe over for a study session."

    The words made Travis''s heart skip a beat. He shot a wary nce at Manley, hesitating. "Citrine, you know my dad doesn''t like "

    He didn''t even get to finish before Manley cut him off. "If they want toe, let them. We''ve got plenty of space."

    "You''re joking, right?" Travis stared at him, stunned.

    Manley had always hated having strangers over-Travis had never dared invite anyone for as long as he could remember. He''d argued with his dad about it more than once. He''d been bracing himself for another fight, but somehow, Manley just agreed.

    "Don''t start. Enough," Manley said, shooting Travis another re before turning to Citrine, his tone softening. "Citrine, let theme over."

    Travis was speechless.

    Why did she get special treatment?

    Seeing Manley''s approval, Citrine quickly messaged the group.

    A few minutester, Sylvan and the others arrived at the Carmichael house. They greeted Manley politely before following Travis upstairs.

    The sun had already set by the time Citrine finished her lessons. Travis hopped on his bike and personally gave her a ride home.

 Chapter 190

    A few dayster.

    Manley arrived at the Viridis Medical Institute, carrying the card Citrine had given him.

    This time, he had no trouble getting in. No one stopped him at the door, and the staff at the research center greeted him with unusual warmth.

    "Mr. Carmichael, please wait inside. Our director will be with you shortly," one of the staff members said, ushering him into afortable lounge. Before leaving, they thoughtfully brewed him a cup of premium tea reserved for honored guests. "Thank you." Manley''s expression stayed calm, but inside, he was buzzing with excitement.

    A dying man always longs for a miracle.

    After a short wait, Patten arrived.

    When he saw Manley, Patten immediately bent down a little and extended his hand. "Mr. Carmichael, it''s a pleasure to finally meet you."

    "Dean Reed, it''s good to see you," Manley replied, shaking Patten''s hand. He studied Patten, surprised by the brightness in the director''s eyes.

    Patten recalled what Citrine had told him over the phone, and quickly apologized. "I''m so sorry about before. We didn''t know you had a connection with Citrine, so the staff had you wait in line. They were just following protocol-I hope you won''t hold it against us."

    He felt a little nervous, knowing now that Manley was Citrine''s uncle. If he''d known sooner, he never would have let the staff put Manley through the usual procedures. Patten''s attitude was almost deferential, anxious not to offend.

    Manley was taken aback by Patten''s politeness. He knew Patten was a friend of Citrine''s, but this level of respect seemed almost excessive.

    Still, Manley didn''t dwell on it. He gave Patten a polite nod. "It''s no problem."

    Patten let out a sigh of relief and continued, "Citrine''s already filled me in on your situation. Rest assured, we''ve arranged for the institute''s top physician to handle your case."

    He gestured for a nurse to bring the doctor in. "This is the doctor who''ll be overseeing your treatment," Patten said, turning to Manley.

    Manley nodded politely at the neer.

    Patten quickly made the introduction. "Dr. Parrish, please begin your examination of Mr. Carmichael." In truth, Citrine had already reviewed Manley''s condition and devised the best treatment n. But since she didn''t want her involvement revealed just yet, Patten had to go through the motions. As far as he was concerned, no one in the medical field was more capable than Citrine.

    Dr. Parrish knelt beside Manley, rolling up his pant leg. He pressed gently on the injured limb, asked a few questions about his symptoms, and soon confirmed that Manley''s situation matched Citrine''s earlier description exactly. The doctor''s respect for Manley and his mysterious connections-grew.

    "Mr. Carmichael, you''re in luck. You came just in time; your leg can still be saved." "Really?" For a moment, Manley could hardly believe what he was hearing.

    Dr. Parrish nodded. "Absolutely. At our center, we only take on cases we''re confident we can cure. If we ept a patient, there''s a ny-nine percent chance of full recovery."

    Manley could barely contain his excitement.

    After years of fruitless treatment and endless disappointment, he was finally seeing a glimmer of hope.

    "Mr. Carmichael, we''ve already prepared a VIP suite for you. You can move in and begin treatment whenever you''re ready," Patten assured him.

    "Could I start tomorrow?" Manley asked eagerly.

    "Of course," Patten replied with a warm smile.

    The very next day, Manley packed his things and moved in.

    He was desperate to begin treatment. Years in a wheelchair had been a living nightmare-he often felt less like a man and more like a worm crawling through the gutter. Now, for the first time in years, he finally dared to hope.

 Chapter 191

    A week slipped by in a blur, and the end-of-term results from Havencrest

    Preparatory Academy were finally posted.

    Citrine logged onto the school''s website to check her grades.

    Total score: 749. First in her year. First in her ss. Just like always¡ªno surprises there.

    She guessed the single point she''d lost was probably on her essay.

    No sooner had she finished checking her grades than her phone buzzed. It was Travis, calling to invite her out to dinner.

    Only when Citrine arrived did she realize it wasn''t just the two of them. Amelia, Sylvan, Carney, and Springer were all there too, along with a crowd of students from Havencrest Technical College.

    Citrine recognized most of them-they were regrs at the tutoring sessions she''d led for the college students.

    Travis caught his sister''s bewildered look and finally exined, "Citrine, we nned this dinner to thank you for all the time you spent tutoring us. Everyone''s grades improved a ton this semester."

    As he spoke, Travis ushered Citrine into the seat of honor at their table.

    He''d gone all out and reserved the whole restaurant; aside from Citrine and Amelia, every table was filled with Havencrest Technical College students.

    This dinner wasn''t ast-minute idea they''d been nning it since before finals. They''d picked today because the college results had just been released, and everyone was in high spirits.

    Amelia, buzzing with excitement, leaned against Citrine''s shoulder. "Citrine, thanks to you, I made it into the top thirty of my year! I honestly never thought I could pull off something like this." She''d locked herself in the bathroom and cried tears of joy when she saw her score.

    Before the others could chime in, Travis puffed out his chest, looking for all the world like a puppy waiting for praise. "Citrine, I scored a five-forty this time. Top of the college!"

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh as she ruffled his hair. "Great job, big brother."

    "Wait, me too!" Sylvan squeezed in front, grinning. "I got a five-twenty. Made the honors cut! All because of you, Citrine."

    Carney piped up, "I scored five-twenty as well."

    Springer added, "I got five-ten."

    Then Dulcie managed to wriggle through the crowd and crouched in front of Citrine, her expression unusually earnest. "Citrine, I also scored five-twenty."

    She paused, and then, as if summoning her courage, fixed Citrine with a determined look. "There''s something I want to say in front of everyone."

    Citrine''s curiosity was piqued. She grinned, her eyes narrowing yfully. "What is it?"

    Dulcie pointed straight at Travis, dead serious. "Citrine, I don''t like Travis anymore."

    Citrine: "..."

    Travis: "..."

    Citrine was still trying to process that when Dulcie plowed on. "After this past semester, I finally realized something."

    "What''s that?" Citrine asked, a creeping sense of dread in her gut. She wasn''t sure she wanted to know the answer.

    Sure enough, Dulcie dropped her bombshell: "You''re way more appealing than Travis."

    Citrine hadn''t even finished reeling from that before Dulcie went for the knockout. "Citrine, I think I''ve developed a crush on you now."

    Citrine: "..." Honestly, she was starting to get a little scared.

    Travis: "..."

    Seriously? First Dulcie had a thing for him, now she was after his sister?

    Travis grabbed Dulcie by the cor and hauled her a good five yards away.

    "I''m warning you¡ª-stay away from my sister, or you''ll regret it," he threatened, glowering at Dulcie.

    Dulcie, never the bravest, looked like she was about to burst into tears as Travis dragged her off.

 Chapter 192

    She huffed, "Travis, you''re honestly terrifying. I must have been blind to ever fall

    for you."

    Dulcie, looking genuinely aggrieved, turned to Citrine and said, "It''s all my fault-l never saw Travis for who he really was. That''s why you misunderstood him, Citrine."

    Citrine: "..."

    Travis: "..." What was he really like, anyway?

    Most of the students at Havencrest Technical College who''d taken Citrine''s tutoring sessions had done exceptionally well on their exams. Each of them had brought a little gift for Citrine as thanks.

    Travis carefully gathered every present, making sure to keep them safe for his sister.

    After the meal, just as they were about to leave, another group approached-a cluster of middle-aged adults heading straight for Citrine.

    At the front was a man with a kindly face. Seeing Citrine, he reached out, clearly excited.

    "Citrine, I''m the principal of Havencrest Technical College. I heard from our students that you were here, so I came over with a few of my colleagues. I hope we''re not intruding."

    Citrine shook his hand politely and nodded. "Hello, Principal. Not at all, it''s a pleasure."

    The principal''s gratitude was heartfelt. "Citrine, thanks to you, Havencrest''s average score on the finals actually surpassed Elegance Peak Academy''s this year."

    When he''d first heard the news, he''d assumed someone had made a calction error-but it was true. After years of being overshadowed and snubbed by Elegance Peak Academy, the principal finally felt a sense of vindication. For once, his school could hold its head high.

    He signaled for the people behind him to bring forward severalrge boxes. "Citrine, these are our gifts to you from the school. Please, you must ept them."

    Citrine had meant to refuse, but seeing how insistent the principal was, she finally epted the gifts.

    Only after Citrine took the presents did the principal and his colleagues leave, all beaming with satisfaction.

    Once they were gone, Citrine finally opened the tightly sealed boxes. Inside were instant cameras, plush toys, cute notebooks-everything that would make a girl''s eyes light up.

    The principal had certainly put some thought into these gifts, though it was really far too much. Citrine could use these for years and never run out.

    She gazed at the pile, feeling a bit overwhelmed, then thought of Amelia and Dulcie. She waved them over.

    "There''s way too much for one person. Take whatever you like seriously, help yourselves."

    "Are you sure?" Dulcie, who had always loved anything pink and adorable, instantly lit up. Still, she tried to restrain herself in front of Citrine, not wanting to seem too eager.

    "Of course! Go on, pick whatever catches your eye," Citrine said with a smile, handing Travis a few bags for them.

    Dulcie dropped all pretense and crouched down to select a handful of plushies. Noticing that Amelia was hanging back, Citrine tugged her over. "Come on, Amelia. Pick out something you like. Take as much as you want."

    "Thank you," Amelia said softly, her heart full.

    She knelt beside Dulcie, choosing a few cute notebooks.

    But Citrine noticed Amelia only picked out some stationery. Before they left, she grabbed several cameras and instant cameras from the box and stuffed them into Amelia''s bag.

    "Citrine, this is really too much." Amelia knew those cameras were expensive brands; she hadn''t dared take even one. Now Citrine was loading her up with several, and she felt a lump in her throat.

    "It''s not too much. Trust me when you get home, if your little brother tries to snatch one away, just hand it over and send him packing," Citrine said, making sure the cameras stayed put.

    Citrine knew a bit about the Lawsons'' situation. If Amelia only took one camera home, it would end up with her brother and she''d never get to use it herself.

 Chapter 193

    As soon as the exam results from Havencrest Preparatory Academy were released, Jete rushed to check her scores.

    A lot had happened at hometely. She hadn''t studied at all before the exams, and though she''d braced herself for a drop in her ranking, she never expected to fall so far.

    "How could this happen?" Jete stared at her results, momentarily dizzy with disbelief. She''d somehownded at 150th in her grade-a freefall she could hardlyprehend.

    Her expression darkened as she scrolled back to the top of the page and nced at Citrine''s results. The color drained from her face.

    Why? That top spot had always belonged to her. She used to keep Citrine firmly beneath her how had everything changed?

    The thought of The Iverson Group''s recent copse only made her mood worse.

    Her family''s prestige, her academic achievements-everything she''d once taken pride in¡ªnow belonged to Citrine.

    Why? What made her so special?

    The next morning, Citrine had just woken up when she received a message from Patten.

    Patten: Chairwoman, someone from the Iverson family is here again. Holbrook''s condition has taken a turn for the worse over the past few days.

    Citrine nced at the message, picked up her phone, and sent a voice reply: Tell them Holbrook''s been poisoned. That''s all they need to know.

    On the other side of town, when Sawyer heard the news about Holbrook''s poisoning, his exhaustion was reced by disbelief.

    He blurted out, "There''s no way my father was poisoned!" After all, every meal Holbrook ate was prepared by a trusted housekeeper-how could something like this happen?

    Patten just scoffed at Sawyer''s stubbornness, clearly annoyed. "We have no reason to lie to you. Our boss was kind enough to warn you believe it or don''t, it''s up to you."

    Sawyer''s brows lifted at the mention of Patten''s "boss." He pressed, "And who exactly is your boss?"

    Patten gave a cold, dismissiveugh. "Someone you''d never guess," he said, and walked away.

    Back at the Iverson family estate, Sawyer kept news of his father''s poisoning quiet. Instead, he secretly collected samples of everything Holbrook had been eating and sent them off for testing.

    A dayter, the hospital called with the results. It turned out the problem was in the "health tonic" Holbrook had been drinking for some time.

    The doctor''s face was grave. "Mr. Iverson, that tonic contained a poisonous mushroom. It attacks the liver and kidneys; small doses over time can be lethal."

    He paused, then asked, "Mr. Iverson, how did you realize your father had been poisoned?"

    After all, Holbrook had been admitted to their hospital for a while, and they''d run every test imaginable without finding a cause. No one had considered poisoning. Sawyer was still shaken, taking a long moment before answering, "The director of Viridis Medical Institute told me."

    His eyes darkened as he asked, "Is there an antidote?"

    The doctor shook his head, clearly reluctant to deliver more bad news. "The poison''s already spread throughout his system. We can only buy your father a few more months¡ªthere''s no cure. He''ll need liver and kidney dialysis, and whether he can withstand that is uncertain. The risk will be yours to bear."

    Sawyer felt a chill settle over him, helplessness washing through his body.

    When he left the hospital, he headed straight for Viridis Medical Institute. But luck wasn''t on his side; this time, he didn''t run into Patten.

    Patten, still in his office, sent someone to ry a message when he heard Sawyer hade by.

    "Mr. Iverson, our director says your father missed his best window for treatment. Had youe sooner, we could have extended his life for several years, but it''s toote now. Even with surgery, he doesn''t have long. We won''t be taking the case." With that, the staff member turned and left.

 Chapter 194

    At this hour, only Sawyer remained standing at the entrance of the research center.

    Once he realized that Dr. Patten wasn''t going to take his father''s case, anyst hope Sawyer had fizzled outpletely.

    Holbrook''s illness couldn''t be dyed any longer; Sawyer knew he couldn''t afford to waste another minute. He immediately called the hospital that had previously treated his father and agreed to proceed with the surgery.

    After returning home from the research center, Sawyer wasted no timeunching a thorough investigation of everyone in the house. To his shock, it wasn''t the nurse who''d been caring for his father that he found suspicious, but rather the woman who slept beside him every night-his own wife.

    That night, sleeplessness loomed over the Iverson family like a dark cloud.

    Sawyer summoned everyone into the living room. He sat on the sofa, his expression stormy and unreadable; no one could guess what was going through his mind.

    Aline rubbed her eyes anxiously. The memory of what she''d done sent a tremor of unease through her, but she quickly calmed herself, recalling the promise she''d received: the poison would be nearly impossible to trace. Herposure returned almost immediately.

    She approached Sawyer cautiously, settling beside him and gently cing her hand over his. Her voice was soft and soothing. "Darling, it''s sote. Has something happened?"

    She was about to say more, but suddenly Sawyer''s expression changed. He shoved her away with such force that Aline tumbled to the floor.

    Sawyer worked out regrly and was strong; with that one push, Aline crashed hard onto the polished floorboards.

    "Get away from me." Sawyer red at her in utter disgust, a tangle of emotions warring inside him.

    He''d suspected nearly everyone-except for the woman he shared his bed with. The very idea that it was his wife who''d poisoned his father was unthinkable.

    In his mind, Aline had always been gentle and considerate. He never would have imagined she was capable of something so vicious.

    Aline, startled and shaken, looked up at Sawyer with wide, pleading eyes. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Darling, did I do something wrong?"

    She racked her brain, trying desperately to figure out why he was so angry. Fear knotted in her chest.

    Jete had never seen her father explode like this. She stared at him, terrified, but mustered the courage to speak up for Aline. "Dad, why are you treating Mom like this? There must be some misunderstanding."

    No sooner had Jete spoken than Clifford and Norton jumped in as well.

    "Yeah, Dad, Aline''s been taking care of the family for years. How could you treat her like this?" Clifford shot Sawyer a reproachful look, then crouched down to help Aline up off the floor.

    Norton, guessing that his father''s mood had been foul for days, pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to reason with him. "Dad, I get that you''ve been under a lot of stresstely, but that''s no excuse to take it out on Aline."

    Sawyer stared at them, disbelief etched on his face. He looked at each of them in turn, then let out a bitterugh. "Well, isn''t this something. Not a single one of my beloved children is willing to stand up for me."

    For a moment, his mind drifted to Citrine. No matter what he said or did, that girl had always believed in him, always supported him without question.

    Noticing his father''s darkening expression, Norton tried to soften his tone, attempting to exin. "Dad, we''re not taking Aline''s side. We just think you should have a reason for being so angry."

    Sawyer ignored him. His gaze, cold and sharp as a de, locked onto Aline.

    "Aline, answer me this: why did you poison Dad''s herbal broth?"

    No. There was no way he could know.

    Aline''s eyes widened in shock, herposure finally cracking as panic flickered across her face.

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    Thinking of his father, a flicker of grief crossed Sawyer''s eyes. He opened his mouth, but in the end, no words came.

    He was a son, after all. The thought that his father might not have much time left hit him like a punch to the chest. The pain was overwhelming.

    And yet, not a soul seemed to understand. In that moment, a crushing wave of sorrow washed over him, making it hard to breathe.

    Before he could pull himself together, he heard Clifford say, "Dad, Aunt Aline just made a mistake can''t you forgive her? Besides, Jete''s still so little. She really can''t lose her mother."

    Norton pressed his lips together, nced at his pitiful little sister, and added, "Dad, I know Aunt Aline did something wrong, but she''s still Jete''s mom. Please, let it go this once. And you have to admit, all these years she''s taken great care of this family. Even if she hasn''t done everything right, she''s worked hard for us."

    A mistake? Forgive her?

    Since when did attempted murder be just a "mistake" that could be forgiven?

    Sawyer stared at his two sons, his gaze cold and sharp as a knife. He could hardly believe what he was hearing.

    When Sawyer didn''t respond, Norton assumed he was still wavering and pressed on, "Dad, Aunt Aline-" But before he could finish, Sawyer''s fist shot out,nding hard on Norton''s face.

    "Hey!" Clifford cried out in shock.

    Before Norton could react, Sawyer grabbed him by the cor and shoved him against the wall, snarling, "Shut your mouth. I should never have brought you and your brother into this house. Raised you both, and this is how you repay me? Ungrateful little snakes."

    Sawyer let him go and turned his icy gaze to Jete, who was curled up on the sofa. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "Jete, are you really going to plead for that wicked woman?"

    Even as he spoke, a flicker of hope lingered in his eyes.

    Jete trembled, and it was a long moment before she managed to speak. "Daddy, I don''t want to lose Mom. I just want us all to be together. I don''t want our family to fall apart." As she spoke, she slipped into her usual sweet, pleading tone.

    This had always worked on Sawyer before, time after time. But this time, as soon as he heard the first part of her plea, his eyes wentpletely dark.

    With a cold expression, he ignored Jete and everyone else in the living room, storming out and mming the door behind him.

    No one noticed the sh of disappointment in Sawyer''s eyes as he left.

    Once he was gone, Jete finally let out a long sigh of relief.

    Seeing that Aline wasn''t looking well, she quickly helped her mother back to her bedroom.

    Now it was just the two of them.

    Jete looked at Aline, her eyes glistening with tears.

    She buried herself in her mother''s arms, voice trembling with hurt. "Mom, I really thought I was about to lose you just now. I was so scared."

    Aline stroked her daughter''s hair, her tone gentle and indulgent. "Silly girl. Your dad dotes on you more than anyone. As long as you ask, he''d never really do anything to me."

    "But Mom, what if he finds out I''m not really his¡ª" Before Jete could finish, Aline''s face changed. She pped her hand over Jete''s mouth. "Sweetheart, you must never speak of that again."

    "This secret dies with us."

    If that man ever found out she''d lied to him, there was no telling how he''d retaliate.

    Aline looked Jete straight in the eye. "Now that the Iverson family has fallen from grace, we can''t count on Sawyer anymore. You and I¡ªwe need to find another way out."

    Jete nodded in agreement. She was used to a life offort and privilege and couldn''t imagine suffering alongside Sawyer.

 Chapter 197

    Ever since *Innocent* exploded in poprity nationwide, Edith had sessfully negotiatedic book rights, radio drama, and audiobook deals for Citrine, both domestically and overseas.

    TV and film rights, however, were a different story-everyone wanted a piece. While Edith still hadn''t found the right buyer for the movie rights, she did manage to sell the television adaptation rights a few months ago. She''d met with a film and TV productionpany that offered a generous sum, and after careful consideration, she closed the deal.

    Eclipse Pictures was the leading studio in Havencrest, and it was precisely this reputation that convinced Edith to entrust them with the adaptation.

    On Monday, the production team nned to officially kick off filming. Eclipse Pictures invited Citrine to be present on set for the first day.

    Edith happened to have a free day, so she apanied Citrine to the studio.

    She''d already been in touch with the director during pre-production, and once they arrived, Edith made the introductions herself. "Director, this is the author of the novel-Obsidian."

    The director looked genuinely surprised when he saw Citrine. "You mean... her?" Edith nodded with a smile. "I know, it''s unexpected, isn''t it? But it''s true."

    She wasn''t at all surprised by his reaction-she''d felt the same way when she first met Citrine.

    Today was the official first day of shooting for the *Innocent* series. Citrine took a seat beside the director to watch the leads rehearse their first scene together.

    The female lead was Seraphina, a rising star with a devoted fanbase; the male lead was rence, an acimed actor with an impressive list of awards.

    Within the story, rence yed York, a troubled young man just out of the police academy, while Seraphina portrayed Diana, York''s girlfriend.

    The show opened with tragedy. York''s parents, after running afoul of a crime syndicate, were brutally murdered in their own home. Devastated and consumed by the need for revenge, York resolved to go undercover within the gang. But before he could disappear, he needed to keep Diana safe¡ªwhich meant breaking up with her, no matter how much it hurt.

    The first scene was their painful farewell.

    York had just finished his parents'' funeral when he received a text from Diana.

    He nced at his phone, hailed a cab, and made his way to the address she''d sent.

    "Where have you been these past few days? It''s about time you showed up." The moment she saw him, Diana grabbed his arm and pinched him hard, demanding

    an answer.

    "Nowhere," York replied, hands tucked into his pockets, his tone t. "Just... resting at home."

    Diana huffed. "This is yourst warning, York. If you ignore my calls again, we''re done."

    Despite her scolding, she slipped her arm through his and brightened. "Come on, I found this amazing ce for dinner-a great little bistro. Let''s go try it together!" She was so caught up in her own excitement, she didn''t notice how distracted York seemed.

    "I can''t," York said quietly, meeting her gaze with unusual seriousness.

    "What?" Diana blinked, then let out a short, incredulousugh. She reached up and tugged his ear, mock-angry. "Oh, I see! Getting bold now, huh? You''re actually turning me down-"

    Before she could finish, York pulled away from her grasp, putting distance between them. His patience was worn thin, and it showed in his voice. "Diana, do you have any idea how exhausting you are sometimes?"

    Diana stared at him in disbelief. "You always said you loved how lively I was.

    "That was before," York replied coldly. "Look at yourself, Diana. The way you dress, the way you act-it''s just not... it''s not what I want anymore. I''m done." Her face went pale, eyes shimmering with tears. "What are you saying?" Seeing her on the verge of tears, York''s resolve faltered for just a moment.

 Chapter 198

    He clenched his fists, forcing himself to spit out the cruel words: "Let''s break up. I can''t stand your explosive temper."

    York''s voice was as casual as ever, but as he spoke, the light vanished from his eyes.

    Diana fought back her tears and shouted at York with venom, "Fine! Break up it is! Don''te crawling back."

    Citrine watched the scene y out, her brow creasing ever so slightly.

    It was a simple exchange, yet Seraphina and rence had already been called out by the director seven or eight times.

    rence kept forgetting his lines or getting them wrong, while Seraphina recited hers as if she were reading from a textbook-t, emotionless, breaking into giggles every now and then. She had none of the professionalism expected of an actor.

    Only on the final take did the two manage to deliver something halfway decent, but to Citrine, it still fell far short of eptable.

    Just then, the director signaled to them with a hand gesture. "Alright, that''s a wrap."

    rence and Seraphina wasted no time leaving the set.

    As they headed back toward their trailers, Citrine, who was sitting beside the director, suddenly spoke up.

    With a wry, almost amused smile, she looked at the director. "Tell me, is this the standard work ethic and efficiency I should expect from your entire cast?"

    She spoke loud enough for everyone on set to hear.

    Seraphina and rence froze mid-step, turning around at once.

    Seraphina, a popr rising star who was used to being fawned over on every set, had never been called out for her attitude before.

    She spun on her heel and stalked up to Citrine, ncing her over and noting how young she looked. The disdain in Seraphina''s eyes was unmistakable. "And who exactly are you? The director didn''t say a word, so what makes you think you can?"

    rence followed close behind. For a split second, he was caught off guard by Citrine''s striking features, but the memory of her words quickly soured his expression.

    He backed Seraphina up. "We''ve been in this industry for years; our work speaks for itself. You don''t have the right to dismiss our efforts."

    "Your work?" Citrine let out a coldugh. "As far as I know, rence, you''ve only had one decent performance since you started-and that was ages ago. You haven''t done anything worthwhile since, have you?"

    "And as for your so-called hard work, rence, you''ve clearly forgotten where you came from. You don''t even bother reading the script ahead of time, yet you call yourself dedicated? Maybe you''ve gotten toofortable in your sess. Honestly, I''m amazed you were even cast as the lead."

    She fixed rence with a contemptuous stare.

    rence turned pale. He''d heard this kind of criticism before, but never had anyone dared say it to his face, especially not in front of so many people.

    He''d been in the business for years, a seasoned veteran. Sure, he wasn''t as popr as he once was, but he still had the connections and resources tond good roles.

    "Listen, kid, let me give you some advice: you can eat whatever you like, but watch what you say. In this industry, making enemies is the fastest way to end your career."

    It was the first time rence had ever been humiliated so publicly; his face was chalk white with anger as he red at Citrine.

    Citrine ignored him. Instead, she turned back to the director, her tone firm. "Director, one of your actors doesn''t even bother with the script, and the other can''t deliver a convincing performance and keepsughing during takes. Honestly, I don''t see how either of them is remotely fit for these roles."

 Chapter 199

    Both rence and Seraphina had powerful connections-people you simply couldn''t afford to offend. But then again, Obsidian was the author of *Innocent*, and upsetting her was equally out of the question.

    The director''s gaze darted anxiously between rence, Seraphina, and finallynded on Citrine, caught squarely in the middle of an impossible situation. These were all VIPs; nothing he did would please everyone. With a deep, frustrated sigh, he wondered if it wasn''t time to quit this job altogether.

    Seeing how serious Citrine looked, the director realized there was no simple fix here.

    Helpless, he shot a covert pleading look at rence and Seraphina, silently begging them to show a little more professionalism.

    Finally, he mustered up his courage and made the introduction. "This is Obsidian, the original author of *Innocent*."

    "What? That''s impossible!" rence and Seraphina blurted out in unison.

    "The inte says Obsidian''s a middle-aged man. How could it possibly be her?" Seraphina''s eyes swept Citrine from head to toe, utterly baffled.

    rence was equally stunned. "Exactly. She can''t be more than a teenager-how could someone so young write a story like that?"

    Edith stepped forward to clear things up. "I''m Obsidian''s editor. There''s really no reason for us to lie. If you don''t believe it, you can call our publisher and confirm."

    No matter how shocked they were, rence and Seraphina had no choice but to ept the truth.

    Still, knowing Citrine only had one acimed novel to her name, and that she was a neer in literary circles, neither of them took her too seriously.

    The director, desperate to keep the situation from spiraling further, seized the moment to speak to Citrine. "Obsidian, we have a few more scenes to shoot this afternoon. Why not stay and watch? I promise, our actors are professionals." He''d said all he could. Citrine had nothing left to argue, so she simply nodded.

    All she could hope for now was that rence and Seraphina would show a little more professionalism this afternoon than they had earlier.

    At lunchtime, Citrine and Edith joined the crew for a quick meal from the catering trays.

    As soon as they sat down, Edith started apologizing.

    "I''m really sorry, Citrine. I should''ve done more homework before we signed on." Edith''s voice was heavy with guilt and regret.

    She hadn''t expected the production team to be this unreliable, and now she felt she''d let Citrine down.

    "It''s not your fault. None of us could''ve predicted things would turn out like this." Citrine barely seemed fazed; instead, she offered Edith a reassuring smile.

    "Thank you, Citrine." Edith was so touched she nearly teared up.

    As an experienced editor, she knew every author treated their work like a child. If only she''d vetted the productionpany and their cast more thoroughly, Citrine''s "child" wouldn''t be suffering this indignity.

    A trending starlet and an award-winning actor, yet neither showed a shred of real professionalism. That single scene had taken dozens of takes. Edith''s illusions about celebrities werepletely shattered.

    "This production is a mess. We never should''ve sold them the adaptation rights," Edith muttered, seething with regret, her fingers itching to give someone a piece of her mind.

    She let out a long sigh. "If only we could break the contract."

    "Why not?" Citrine looked over, genuinely puzzled.

    Edith replied without hesitation, "We can''t. The contract says if we back out, we owe ten million in penalties. There''s no way we can afford that." Just imagining the sum made her shudder.

    Citrine said nothing more and focused on her meal.

    Edith nced at Citrine, quietly watching her eat, and for a brief moment, felt oddlyforted.

 Chapter 200

    A beautiful person is beautiful, no matter the circumstance.

    Just then, a sudden crash erupted behind Citrine and herpanion.

    Citrine turned toward themotion and saw a woman berating a young man, her words vicious and cutting.

    "Are you a pig? Look at how much you eat-you''re going to finish off all the food meant for the whole crew!"

    With that, the woman snatched the boy''s lunch and hurled it to the ground, scattering rice and vegetables everywhere. The boy''s eyes reddened, but he knelt down silently, picking up each grain of food one by one.

    Instead of apologizing, the woman''s cruelty only intensified.

    She kicked him hard in the back and sneered, "You really think you canpete with rence for the lead? You''re just an extranding a supporting role is already more than you deserve. Dreaming about the lead? Pathetic."

    It took the boy a moment to gather himself. Finally, he stood, fists clenched, his voice trembling with pent-up anger. "Why shouldn''t I hope for more? I''m a better actor than rence, I''m younger, I work harder. Why can''t I y the lead?"

    "If he hadn''t bought his way into the production at thest minute, the role would''ve been mine." As he spoke, his voice broke ever so slightly.

    The womanughed, sharp and derisive. "Why? Because you''re a nobody-just a college grad with no family, no connections, no track record, no experience. That''s your original sin."

    "There''s no such thing as what you ''deserve'' in this world. If you want someone to me, me yourself for not being powerful enough."

    Jake red at her, a storm brewing behind his eyes. He gritted his teeth and spat out, "One day, you''ll see. I''ll make it to the top. Don''t look down on me just because I''m nobody now."

    With that, the young man stormed off.

    Citrine, who had been observing the scene, was struck by what Jake had said. After finishing her meal, she approached a nearby crew member and asked casually, "I heard the lead role wasn''t originally meant for rence. Is that true?"

    The girl nodded. "Yeah, that''s right."

    She nced around to make sure no one else was nearby, then lowered her voice. "If rence hadn''t invested in the project halfway through, Jake would''ve gotten the lead. He''s worked for years as a bit-part actor since graduating, and finallynded the lead in Innocent-a huge production-by merit. But just before shooting started, they bumped him to the supporting role and gave the lead to rence. It''s honestly tragic."

    The mention of Jake reminded the girl of something else. She sighed. "And you know, our female lead wasn''t supposed to be Seraphina, either. There''s all sorts of gossip that she slept with thepany president to get the part. If not for that, she wouldn''t have stood a chance at getting the lead."

    "Oh no, I''ve probably said too much." The girl pped a hand over her mouth, suddenly anxious.

    Citrine gave her a warm, reassuring smile. "Don''t worry, I won''t say a word. You have my word."

    The girl rxed at that.

    That afternoon, filming resumed, but Seraphina and rence were just as out of sync as they''d been all morning.

    After the director called "cut" for the fourth time, Citrine finally stepped in.

    She looked at rence and Seraphina, her tone even and cool. "Director, these two have wasted enough of the crew''s time. Maybe it''s best if we recast."

    She gestured toward Jake, who was standing at the edge of the set. "He''d be a fine choice," she told the director.

 Chapter 201

    "Jake?"

    The director shot Jake a look, his expression souring.

    Everyone on set knew about the feud between Jake and the Oscar-winning rence.

    He dismissed Citrine''s suggestion without hesitation. "No way. Jake''s still a rookie. I doubt he can handle such a big role."

    Citrine''s tone remained calm but firm. "It''s important to bring new faces into the industry, and frankly, Jake fits my vision for the lead far better."

    No sooner had Citrine finished than Jake looked up at her, a glimmer of hope shing in his eyes before he quickly bowed his head again.

    Meanwhile, Seraphina and rence exchanged a nce, their faces changing as tension thickened in the air.

    Seraphina''s cheeks flushed scarlet, her eyes wide with indignation. "Who do you think you are to rece us? The rights to this project belong to ourpany. You''re just a newbie writer-what makes you think you can call the shots?"

    She seethed inwardly: Writer or not, she''s still a nobody, probably broke too.

    Unaware of Seraphina''s thoughts, Citrine let out a coldugh. "Why? Because you insulted my work. Honestly, your performances have been absolutely terrible."

    Her words hit Seraphina and rence like a p to the face-blunt and unyielding.

    rence''s hands trembled with rage. Unable to contain himself, he hurled his coffee cup to the floor with a crash.

    "Fine, your writing is good, but without me and Seraphina, your movie would flop. We''re the reason anyone''s interested in the first ce!"

    He''d been a respected figure in the industry for years, always treated like royalty. No one had ever dared call his acting "terrible¡±¡ªand now some upstart writer was doing just that.

    rence was breathing hard, furious and humiliated.

    Citrine met his outburst with perfectposure, a hint of a smile curving her lips. "rence, at your age, maybe it''s time you learned to control your temper."

    She added coolly, "And for the record, without you and Seraphina, this film will be a hit. With you two in it? It''s guaranteed to bomb."

    Citrine gave him a slow, deliberate once-over before snorting softly. "If I remember right, you''re turning thirty this year. Thirty, and still carrying on like this? If you keep it up, the film industry will leave you behind."

    She didn''t sugarcoat a single word.

    Everyone in the room was stunned, murmuring among themselves.

    "Damn, you gotta admire Gen Z. No fear, just says it like it is."

    "First time I''ve ever seen someone put rence in his ce¡ªand honestly, it feels pretty satisfying."

    "I''m with Obsidian on this one. rence is a pain to work with-always forgetting his lines, making us stayte. There''ve been nights I couldn''t pick up my kid from school. He''d just sit there, waiting for hours. Once, I found him still on the yground at eight. Broke my heart. I''ve cried alone so many times because of

    it."

    "Yeah, and don''t forget Seraphina. She acts like a diva, alwayste, always leaving early, bossing people around like she''s some kind of princess. I honestly don''t get why she has so many fans."

    ¡°But Obsidian? She''s young, but she''s so polite. Always respectful to the crew, speaks gently, even brings us coffee. Never acts superior."

    "I''m rooting for Obsidian too."

 Chapter 202

    "rence is old, has a terrible temper, and honestly, he''s just not efficient. Every time he''s around, we end up working overtime. If I didn''t have a family to support, I wouldn''t set foot on any set he''s in. Compared to him, Obsidian is an absolute saint."

    Everyone on set was murmuring, and whether they meant to or not, some of thosements drifted into rence''s ears.

    rence''s face darkened, his expression clouded with barely contained anger. His eyes narrowed as he shot a venomous re at Citrine, making a mental note to settle the score. "You... You''re just a rookie writer. Aren''t you afraid of crossing me?"

    Citrine only chuckled,pletely unfazed by rence''s threat. "If you''ve got dirty tricks up your sleeve, go ahead¡ªI''ll be waiting."

    With that, Citrine turned to the director and said crisply, "Contact your studio. I''m pulling the rights. I want out of the contract."

    Her tone was sharp, decisive no hesitation, no room for argument.

    "What? Cancel the contract?" The director, rence, and Seraphina all paled as the words hit them.

    It wasn''t just them. Even Edith, who''d been quietly listening nearby, nched in shock. Without thinking, she grabbed Citrine''s arm and dragged her away from the crowd. Only when they were alone did she let go.

    Edith stared at Citrine, wide-eyed with panic. "Citrine, are you out of your mind? If you break the contract now, you''ll have to pay a penalty."

    "I''d rather pay the penalty than watch my work get trampled," Citrine replied coolly, not a trace of emotion in her voice.

    ¡°That''s a million dors!" Edith blurted, her voice almost a squeak. The thought of that much money made her, a humble employee, wince in pain.

    But Citrine was unconcerned. She''d made her decision, and she was sure she''de out ahead. Seeing Edith''s worry, Citrine offered a rare reassurance. "Don''t stress. My work is worth far more than a million. I''m definitely ending this contract."

    For once, Citrine¡ªusually easygoing-was unwavering.

    But Edith knew it wasn''t just about the money. She frowned, her tone urgent and earnest. "Citrine, Eclipse Pictures is the biggest studio in Havencrest. If you anger them, it could ruin your future in the industry." She couldn''t help but worry.

    Citrine just smiled, trying to ease Edith''s concern. "Rx. They can''t touch me. Besides, I never nned to stay in this business for long."

    "Well, if that''s your decision, I''m with you." In the end, Edith knew the responsibility was hers. If Citrine was sure, Edith had no reason not to support

    her.

    They finished their discussion and headed back to set.

    The moment Citrine returned, the director hurried over with a bright, hopeful smile.

    "Obsidian, why not give rence and Seraphina one more chance? I promise, from now on, they''ll give it their all."

    "If we work together, I know this project will be a hit."

    Fowler, the director, understood better than anyone that Innocent was already a worldwide phenomenon. Turning it into a series was guaranteed sess. Before this, Fowler hadn''t had a single notable project in ages. He was counting on this show to bring him back into the spotlight, maybe even win him some awards. More than anyone, Fowler dreaded Citrine walking away.

    But he wasn''t the only one. There were two others on set just as desperate for Citrine to stay.

    One was rence, the Oscar-winning actor. The other was Seraphina, the hottest young star in the business.

 Chapter 203

    rence was thirty now. He''d set his sights on Innocent as his ticket back into the spotlight-onest brilliant performance, a shot at an award, and then he could bow out of the industry for good. It would be the perfect ending to his career.

    Seraphina, meanwhile, was the darling of the tabloids, beloved on social media but still without a single breakout role to her name. Desperate tond the lead in Innocent, she''d swallowed her pride and done the unthinkable: spent the night with thepany''s CEO. If she didn''t get this part, that humiliation would have been for nothing.

    Now, the three of them stared expectantly at Citrine, waiting for her to give in.

    Everyone assumed she''d cave-after all, Eclipse Studios practically ran Hollywood in Havencrest, and nobody wanted to cross them. But Citrine''s next words caught them all off guard.

    "I''ve already given you a chance. Don''t waste your time. As of now, our contract is over." Her gaze was icy as she looked at Fowler, her tone resolute.

    "Obsidian, are you sure?" Fowler pressed, his patience fraying. "You''re breaking the contract. You''ll have to pay the penalty."

    Fowler was a respected director in the industry, and he''d tried every angle to talk her around. But Citrine showed him no deference; his genial expression was slowly giving way to something much darker.

    "I''m willing to pay." Citrine met his brooding eyes, calm and unyielding.

    "That''s a million dors," Fowler snapped, eyes wide.

    Citrine let out a soft, almost amusedugh. "Even if it were ten million, I''d still pay," she replied coolly.

    rence and Seraphina both nched, the color draining from their faces. They''d assumed Citrine, being so young, would be intimidated by Eclipse Studios'' power. They never expected her to stand her ground like this.

    Just then, Fowler began tough¡ªa cold, mirthless sound.

    "You''ve got quite a mouth for someone your age," he sneered. "If you break your contract with Eclipse, I promise you: no one in town will dare touch the film rights for Innocent."

    His narrowed eyes glinted with menace, the threat in his words unmistakable.

    Citrine arched an eyebrow, her eyes shing. Her voice dropped. "Director Fowler, you really don''t have to worry about that. I''d rather see the rights rot than sell them to Eclipse Studios."

    With that, Citrine and Edith turned and walked away from the set.

    Citrine''s expression never changed, not for a moment-not a flicker of concern.

    Edith followed anxiously behind her, nerves twisting in her stomach. She couldn''t hold it in any longer.

    "Citrine, are you really not going to sell the rights?"

    "I am," Citrine answered casually.

    "But now you''ve crossed Eclipse. Who else would dare buy the rights to Innocent? What do we do now?" Edith was on edge, regretting ever having sold the rights to Apocalypse Productions in the first ce.

    She was a bundle of nerves, practically pacing, while Citrine seemed as calm as

    ever.

    "Aren''t you worried at all?" Edith blurted out. With Citrine''s serene expression, Edith couldn''t decide whether to admire herposure or panic on her behalf.

    "Rx." Citrine gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don''t worry. I already have a studio in mind."

    Edith''s eyes lit up with hope. "Which one?"

    "Not just yet. You''ll know in a month." Citrine smiled, keeping the name to herself ¡ªafter all, thepany didn''t even exist yet.

    "What?" Edith''s shoulders slumped. "You''re not just trying to make me feel better, are you?"

    "I''m not. Trust me¡ªjust wait a month. I promise you won''t be disappointed." Citrine''s tone was steady and certain, her confidence unwavering.

 Chapter 204

    Seeing how serious Citrine was, Edith finally believed her.

    Though they''d only known each other a short while, Edith could tell Citrine wasn''t the type to joke about something so important.

    Sure enough, exactly a monthter, Edith received Citrine''s message right on schedule.

    They met at a cozy downtown caf¨¦.

    Citrine had barely sat down before she picked up her coffee to take a sip, but Edith, her mind preupied with the whole Innocent situation, was far too anxious for small talk. She snatched the cup from Citrine''s hands and set it firmly on the table. "For heaven''s sake, Citrine, can you not torture me like this? Tell me already or I''ll lose my mind."

    Edith stared her down, eyes wide and unblinking. "Well? Whichpany is it?"

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh at Edith''s intensity. She decided not to keep her in suspense any longer. "It''s CICI Media Co."

    "CICI Media Co.? Wait, you mean the same CICI Group that acquired The Iverson Group not long ago?" Edith''s eyes widened, her voice rising in disbelief.

    Citrine nodded with a small, knowing smile. "As if there''s another CICI Media Co. in all of Havencrest."

    "But Citrine, are you sure CICI Media Co. actually wants to buy the rights to our show?" Edith was almost afraid to believe it, the news was so sudden and incredible. Everyone knew the CEO of CICI Media Co. and CICI Group was the same influential figure.

    It was like having a powerful ally in their corner.

    Landing a partnership with a giant like this was beyond anything Edith had dared to hope for.

    Compared to Edith''s excitement, Citrine remained calm, almost detached.

    "I''m absolutely sure."

    She''d spent the past month transforming The Iverson Group into a top-tier productionpany, all for the sake of adapting Innocent for television.

    Suddenly, Edith remembered what had happenedst time, and this time she was determined to be more cautious. She fixed Citrine with a steady look. ¡°Citrine, I don''t want a repeat of what happened before. No matter what, this time I insist on meeting the CEO of CICI Group myself and making sure we''re on the same page."

    "I mean, sure, CICI Group is loaded and CICI Media Co. must be too, but what if the CEO is just another sleazy old man who can''t keep his hands to himself? I don''t want some casting couch scandal ruining our show. If there''s a problem, I want to spot it early and shut it down."

    Citrine: "...."

    She didn''t even have a body, let alone any scandalous intentions-and the idea of abusing her position was simply impossible.

    Citrine coughed, a little awkwardly. "Don''t worry. I''ve already spoken to the CEO. You don''t need to meet her."

    After they''d settled everything, Citrine headed to the casting call the very next day.

    This time, Citrine would be handling the casting personally. When Edith heard the production team had given Citrine so much authority, she was over the moon.

    Plenty of actors showed up to audition, but all morning, Citrine couldn''t find anyone suitable for the male lead. They either couldn''t capture York''s roguish charm or failed to convey hisplicated feelings for Diana.

    By lunchtime, Citrine was exhausted.

    Just as she was about to give up for the day, she spotted someone she hadn''t expected to see.

    Jake.

    "What are you doing here?" Citrine blinked, surprised.

    Jake walked over and gave her a respectful nod. "Obsidian, you once said I''d be a good fit for Innocent''s lead. I''m here today to throw my hat in the ring."

    Despite Citrine''s youth, Jake treated her with genuine respect, recognizing her talent and authority.

    Citrine studied him for a moment, silent. Then she said, "Here, I only care about ability. If you want to try out for the lead,e back and audition this afternoon."

 Chapter 205

    Jake''s eyes lit up with delight at Citrine''s words.

    "Thank you, Obsidian." He pressed his hands against the seams of his pants and bowed repeatedly, gratitude tumbling out in waves.

    Even as he left the room, Jake was still reeling from the shock of such unexpected good fortune.

    Beforeing here, he''d half expected Obsidian''s promise from a month ago to be nothing more than empty words. After all, he was signed with Eclipse Pictures, and after the messy fallout between Obsidian and thepany, it seemed almost impossible she''d actually cast him.

    Yet he couldn''t forget the way she''d walked away from Eclipse Pictures a month ago¡ªher resolve, her refusal topromise. In the end, he''d decided to take the gamble.

    He never imagined she''d truly give him a chance.

    That afternoon, after watching a parade of auditions, Citrine was fighting off sleepiness. The drowsiness clung to her until Jake''s turn came. The moment he delivered his first line, Citrine''s eyelids fluttered open; she straightened in her seat.

    Jake had never yed a leading man before, but there was no denying his talent and intuition. He''d studied the character of York inside and out.

    Right then, he didn''t just y York-he was York.

    When the audition ended, Jake stood with his hands balled into fists, anxiously searching Citrine''s face for any sign of approval.

    Her silence dragged on, and hope slowly faded from Jake''s eyes.

    Just as he''d resigned himself to disappointment, Citrine turned to the director and shed an "OK" sign.

    She smiled. "Jake is York. The lead role is decided."

    Citrine''s word was final on the Innocent set; the director respected every casting choice she made.

    Joy crashed over Jake, leaving him breathless with excitement.

    Choking up, eyes shining with tears, he bowed deeply to both of them. "Thank you, Obsidian. Thank you, director. I won''t let you down-I''ll give everything I have to this role."

    This was his first lead since entering the industry¡ªand in a major production, no less. In that moment, Jake felt that every bit part he''d ever yed was finally worth it.

    With the lead cast, Citrine left to rest.

    Night fell over the run-down neighborhood on the city''s east side.

    "You can''t just decide my life for me!" Amelia Lawson''s voice cracked as she broke down in sobs, clutching a kitchen knife to her throat. She red at her father, Fabian Lawson, and her mother, Cindy Lawson-her eyes wild with desperation.

    Not long ago, Amelia''s younger brother had fallen from the stairs, hitting his head. The diagnosis: severe brain trauma, and a surgery that would cost over forty thousand dors.

    Fabian was a drunk with no steady job. The family scraped by on whatever Cindy managed to earn running a small diner, and after years of saving, they''d only managed to put away ten thousand. They still needed thirty thousand more for the surgery.

    Toe up with the money, Fabian and Cindy had conspired to marry Amelia off to thendlord''s mentally challenged son, a man more than a decade her senior.

    When Amelia found out, she snapped.

    Now, seeing her daughter pressing a knife to her own throat, Fabian actually looked rattled. He rushed forward, voice frantic. "Amelia, put the knife down! Don''t hurt yourself!"

    For a fleeting moment, Amelia saw a flicker of fear in her father''s eyes and almost believed he cared.

    But the next words out of Fabian''s mouth struck her like a p.

    "Sweetheart, thendlord''sing by tomorrow with the dowry. If something happens to you now, how will I exin it to him?" Fabian''s tone softened for once as he spoke, and while Amelia stood stunned, he seized the moment to snatch the knife from her hands.

 Chapter 206

    Amelia stood frozen, a bitterugh echoing in her heart at her own foolishness.

    Fabian had always cared only for his son; she, his daughter, had never mattered. He wasn''t worried about something happening to her he was worried that if something did, he''d lose the hefty dowry thendlord had promised.

    "I''m telling you, I won''t marry him! I want to finish school!" Amelia screamed, her voice raw as she red at Fabian and Cindy.

    Fabian took a drag from his cigarette, his tone dripping with contempt. "School? What''s the point? Girls end up married sooner orter. What good is a degree? You''ll graduate and make peanuts-barely enough to support yourself."

    "But that man''s almost forty! I''m only eighteen!" Amelia''s voice trembled. The idea of marrying, especially to a man twice her age, was unbearable.

    "So what? He''s loaded," Fabian shot back without missing a beat.

    Amelia let out a shakyugh, but her eyes were resolute. "If you want money for my brother''s treatment, take out a bank loan or ask the family for help. But I am not getting married."

    Fabian exploded at her words, cursing under his breath. "A loan? Asking for money? We''d still have to pay it back! Don''t be ungrateful, Amelia. Thendlord''s family is rich¡ªyou''ll be living the good life, eating well, dressed in new clothes. You should be thanking me for this."

    He red at her, greed gleaming in his eyes.

    Realizing Fabian would never change his mind, Amelia turned to Cindy, her mother, desperation etched across her face. "Mom, please, I don''t want to get married. Help me."

    Cindy hesitated, torn. Amelia was still her daughter, after all.

    "Fabian, maybe we should-" Cindy started, but the look Fabian shot her made her fall silent immediately.

    Cindy had always been afraid of Fabian. Now, she could only gaze at Amelia helplessly. "Amelia, thendlord''s offering sixty thousand dors, and they''ll sign the house over to your brother. I know it''s hard on you, but think about it. Their family has real money. You won''t have to struggle anymore."

    "We''re doing this for your own good."

    Amelia''s face drained of color as her mother spoke. "For my own good? How can you even say that?"

    A hollow smile twisted her lips. "I''m a person, not something to be bought and sold. How could you treat me like a piece of property?"

    Time and again, they''d thrown her into the fire, but she''d always clung to a shred of hope that, maybe, they''d choose her just once. Now, even that hope was gone.

    Fabian''s patience snapped. ¡°Shut up." He pped Amelia across the face, his words venomous. "You owe me for bringing you into this world. You''d better learn to be grateful."

    Without another word, he grabbed her by the hair, dragging her toward the storage room.

    "Let me out!" Amelia screamed as she heard the lock click shut, pounding on the door with both fists.

    "Stay put," Fabian barked from the other side.

    No matter how desperately she pounded, no one came.

    She couldn''t just sit here and wait for her fate to be decided.

    ncing at the small window above, an idea sparked. Amelia rummaged through

    the clutter, tying together a few pieces of rope she found, and tossed the makeshift line out the window.

    They lived on the second floor. It wasn''t high; she could make it.

    It took every ounce of strength she had, but finally, Amelia climbed out and lowered herself to the ground below.

    Once she was free, she wandered the streets alone, fear and uncertainty pressing in. She had nowhere to go, and no idea what would happen next.

 Chapter 207

    Night had fallen deep and heavy.

    Citrine had just finished her nighttime routine and was about to crawl into bed when her phone suddenly lit up with a call from Amelia.

    A call at this hour couldn''t be for anything trivial.

    Without hesitation, Citrine answered, an edge of worry in her voice. "Hey, Amy, is everything okay? Did something happen?"

    Just hearing Citrine''s voice made Amelia''s eyes sting with tears, her reply shaky and thick with emotion.

    She sniffled. "Citrine, I... I ran out of the house. I just couldn''t stay."

    "I''m not feeling great."

    "Amy, where are you right now?" Sensing something was seriously wrong, Citrine''s tone turned urgent.

    It took Amelia a moment to answer. "I''m at the downtown park."

    Citrine quickly soothed her friend before saying firmly, "Stay where you are. I''ming to get you."

    She hung up, threw a light jacket over her pajamas, slipped on a pair of ts, and rushed out the door without a second thought.

    Her heart was pounding the entire drive.

    Luckily, the Carmichael family estate wasn''t far from the city park. In no time, she arrived.

    Citrine hopped out of the car and hurried through the park, searching until she finally spotted that familiar figure.

    Seeing that Amelia was safe, Citrine let out a breath she didn''t know she''d been holding.

    As Amelia looked up, she caught sight of Citrine-still in pajamas and slippers, hair a little messy, clearly having rushed over as fast as she could.

    "Citrine." Amelia''s voice trembled as her eyes filled with tears, shimmering in the glow of the streetlights.

    Truthfully, Amelia had only called because she needed someone to talk to. She never expected Citrine toe all the way out, especially sote at night.

    "Citrine, I''m so sorry. I shouldn''t have dragged you out here at this hour," Amelia said, guilt coloring her words.

    "Don''t apologize. We''re friends, aren''t we?" Citrine, usually so calm andposed, still looked a little rattled.

    Amelia rarely saw her like this. Realizing that Citrine''s panic was all because of her, Amelia felt a warm glow inside a strange sort of happiness.

    The temperature in Havencrest dropped sharply after dark, even in the summer. If you didn''t throw on a jacket, you''d catch a chill in no time.

    Citrine nced at Amelia''s t-shirt and shorts and gently pulled her up from the bench. "Come on, it''ste. Let''s go to my ce."

    When Amelia hesitated, Citrine looked at her, puzzled. "Why aren''t you moving?" "Citrine, I... I don''t want to be a bother," Amelia stammered, her eyes downcast. Amelia cherished their friendship more than anything-Citrine was her only real friend and she couldn''t help but worry she was being a burden.

    "You''re not a bother. You''re my friend. How could you ever be a bother?" Citrine gave her an exasperated look, but her voice was soft and reassuring.

    Children who grow up without love are always afraid of troubling others-Citrine knew this all too well. She and Amelia were so much alike beneath the surface, and she understood Amelia''s skittishness and longing for affection.

    It wasn''t long before they reached the Carmichael family''s grand estate. Amelia gaped at the sprawling mansion, eyes wide in awe. "This ce is incredible... it feels like I''ve just walked into a castle."

    She couldn''t help it¡ªshe''d never seen anything like this before. Sure, she''d always known Citrine was Raymond Carmichael''s daughter, and intellectually she understood the Carmichaels were wealthy-but seeing it firsthand was something else entirely.

    By this hour, the whole house was quiet. Citrine led Amelia up to her room.

    Amelia paused at the doorway, ncing at the plush carpet inside, clearly hesitant to step in.

    "Come on in," Citrine urged, beckoning her forward.

    Amelia hung her head and murmured, "My shoes are dirty... I don''t want to mess up your carpet." There was a flicker of insecurity in her eyes.

 Chapter 208

    "It''s not dirty. Come on in." Citrine gave a resigned little smile, then reached for Amelia''s hand and gently pulled her inside.

    Amelia finally got a good look at Citrine''s room¡ªand for a moment, all she could do was stare in awe.

    "Citrine, your room is beautiful," she breathed, unable to hide the envy in her eyes.

    Back at the Lawson house, Amelia didn''t even have a room of her own. She slept year-round on the living room couch, her clothes and personal things stuffed into a couple of old tote bags piled in the corner, just to keep them out of the way and easy to find.

    But Citrine''s room was the kind that existed in every girl''s wildest dreams- spacious, gorgeous, filled with sunlight. There was a lovely writing desk, a cozy beanbag chair, and all sorts of charming little pieces of furniture that looked like they''d been plucked straight from a show about princesses. Even her private bathroom was bigger than the entire living space Amelia''s whole family shared.

    "It''s nothing special," Citrine said, a little embarrassed. "When I first came to live with the Carmichaels, I was put up in the guest room. Later, Raymond insisted I take his bedroom and had it redecorated for me. That''s how it ended up like this." After Amelia finished washing up, the two of them climbed into bed together.

    "Your sheets smell amazing," Amelia said, inhaling the faint scent of flowers with delight. She took another deep breath, savoring it.

    "Do they? It''s probably just theundry detergent," Citrine replied, burying her own face in the pillow and taking a deep breath too.

    Their eyes met over their silly antics, and both girls burst outughing.

    After a little while, Amelia''s mood finally began to lift.

    She ended up telling Citrine everything about what had happened at home.

    As she listened, Citrine felt her own anger rising on Amelia''s behalf.

    After a moment''s thought, she suddenly asked, ¡°Amy, do you want to get away from your parents?"

    Amelia was quiet for a while. When she finally spoke, her voice was steady. "Yes. The moment they tried to sell me off to thendlord''s son, they stopped being my parents in my heart."

    Citrine didn''t say anything for a long time. Then, out of nowhere, she asked, "Amy, have you ever wanted to be an actress?"

    Amelia blinked, surprised by the question, but she nodded honestly.

    It was true-she''d dreamed of acting ever since she was little. But she was

    always too afraid of beingughed at to tell anyone.

    "How did you know?" she asked, a little embarrassed.

    Citrine smiled. "When I was going over your essays the other day, I saw the one

    called ''My Dream.'' You wrote about it beautifully."

    The memory came rushing back, and Amelia''s cheeks turned bright red at Citrine''s praise.

    "If you really want to be an actress, Amy, I can help you," Citrine said, steering the conversation back to her point.

    Amelia gave a heavy sigh. "It''s not that easy. You need connections and resources just to get your foot in the door. I''m just a high school student-no agency would even consider me."

    She loved acting, but she knew the odds. A girl with no background or

    connections didn''t stand a chance in that world.

    They sat in silence for a moment before Citrine suddenly asked, "Would you want to be in Innocent?"

    Amelia''s eyes went wide. "You mean Obsidian''s Innocent? The one they''ve been working on for years?"

    Citrine nodded lightly. "Yeah."

    Amelia just stared, speechless. "Citrine, that''s Obsidian''s passion project. Only the biggest stars in Hollywood would even be considered. There''s no way I''d have a shot."

    Citrine gave a small, amused shrug. "Well, maybe it''s not as impossible as you think. If you want it, I can make it happen. Do you want to try?"

    There was nothing yful in Citrine''s eyes-she waspletely serious.

    Amelia realized she meant it. She nodded, hardly daring to believe it was real.

 Chapter 209

    The next morning, after freshening up, Citrine picked out a dress for Amelia from the walk-in closet.

    "Wilma took your clothes to be washed. Wear this one instead." She held the dress up to Amelia,paring it against her frame, then nodded approvingly. "Looks great on you."

    Amelia''s eyes lit up at the sight of the dress, but the excitement faded almost instantly.

    She asked hesitantly, "Citrine, is this dress really expensive?"

    "Don''t worry about it. It''s not expensive at all," Citrine replied honestly. She''d

    bought this dress herself; it had only cost a few dozen dors.

    Knowing how Amelia could be, Citrine had deliberately chosen something simple, not wanting her friend to feel like a burden.

    "Thank you, Citrine." Relieved by the answer, Amelia went to change.

    The Lawsons didn''t have much money, and Amelia had never owned a pretty dress. Most of her clothes were the kind you could wear year-round-long sleeves and jeans, nothing fancy.

    This was her very first time wearing a dress, and she felt awkward, almost embarrassed. She looked at Citrine uncertainly. "How do I look?"

    "You look beautiful. Dresses really suit you," Citrine said with a warm smile.

    After the two girls finished getting ready, they headed downstairs.

    Raymond was sitting on the couch, watching the morning news. When he saw Citrine, he immediately stood up and asked Wilma to bring out breakfast.

    It was Amelia''s first time seeing Citrine''s father up close, and she suddenly felt out of her depth.

    Turns out, the powerful men on TV weren''t so different in real life.

    She was face-to-face with the most sessful man in Havencrest. Stiffening her back, Amelia bowed deeply, nearly ny degrees. "Good morning, sir. I''m Citrine''s friend. Sorry for intrudingst night."

    Citrine was startled and hurried to pull her upright.

    "If you''re Citrine''s friend, you''re always wee here. You''re not intruding at all." Raymond didn''t seem fazed, and his tone was unusually friendly.

    "Thank you, sir," Amelia replied politely.

    After breakfast, Citrine took Amelia to the set of *Innocent*.

    It was Amelia''s first time visiting a production set, and everything fascinated her.

    As they walked in, two crew members approached and greeted Citrine politely.

    "Good morning, Obsidian."

    "Hello, Obsidian."

    "Morning!" Citrine replied with a friendly smile.

    When they''d walked a bit further, Amelia finally blurted out, "Citrine, did I hear that right? They called you Obsidian?" She stared at Citrine, wide-eyed in disbelief.

    Citrine grinned. "Well... maybe that''s because I am Obsidian?"

    Amelia shook her head, overwhelmed. "No way. Citrine, my brain can''t handle this."

    *Innocent* was Amelia''s favorite book, and she was a huge fan of Obsidian, its mysterious author.

    She couldn''t believe her idol was her own friend.

    Not even TV shows would dare pull off a twist like this.

    But then she thought about how much Citrine knew about everything, and how she''d asked if Amelia wanted to try acting. It finally clicked.

    She stared at Citrine, half-exasperated, half-amused. "You really tricked me, Citrine. You owe me an autograph when the bookes out." The idea that her idol had been right in front of her this whole time, and she hadn''t known-it was almost too much to handle.

    Citrineughed. "Of course. When the first printes out, you''ll get the very first signed copy."

    Friends deserve a little special treatment, after all.

    "You''re the best, Citrine!" Amelia beamed, hugging Citrine''s arm and leaning close.

 Chapter 210

    At this point, Amelia still had no idea what role she''d be ying. She guessed it was probably just a supporting part.

    It wasn''t until she actually had the script in hand that the truth finally hit her. She stared in disbelief. "Citrine, I¡ªwait, this can''t be right, can it? The lead female role?"

    "That''s right," Citrine replied softly, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

    Amelia swallowed hard, stunned and deeply touched. "Citrine, are you seriously giving me special treatment here?"

    "Of course I am. You''re my friend. What''s wrong with helping you out a little?" Citrine lifted her chin with a hint of pride.

    "But I''ve never acted in anything before. I have zero experience¡ªI''m terrified I''ll ruin it." Suddenly, Amelia''s excitement gave way to nerves.

    Citrine didn''t share her concerns. "Untrained actors can be the most natural and spirited. And don''t worry, Amy, I''ve already lined up a few coaches to teach you the basics."

    "I''ve done what I can to pave the way, but whether you can seize this chance- that''s up to you," Citrine added. Even if she''d opened the door for Amelia, sess would still depend on Amelia''s own abilities.

    A friend willing to do this much was already a godsend. Amelia was overwhelmed with gratitude. "Thank you, Citrine."

    Citrine paused before continuing, "The audition''s in three days. It won''t be easy, but Amy, I believe in you."

    For the next three days, Amelia threw herself into lessons with her acting

    coaches, practicing from morning till night. She never allowed herself a moment''sziness.

    This was her chance to finally break free from the Lawson family and stand on her own. And since it was Citrine who gave her this opportunity, Amelia was determined not to let her down-not even for a second.

    Truth be told, Amelia seemed to have a real knack for acting. She picked things up quickly, delivered her lines well, and, three dayster, sailed through the audition with confidence.

    Everything was going smoothly-until the day after the main roles were announced. Suddenly, the inte erupted with rumors. Allegations spread that Obsidian, relying on the fact that Innocent was her own creation, was running roughshod over the production, swapping out the leads at will and disrespecting both the director and the terms of the contract.

    Social media exploded. Fans of rence and Seraphina rushed to defend their idols.

    rence''s fan, "rence''s Lucky Socks": "Good thing I''m just a fan of the Innocent novel. I can''t believe Obsidian would stoop so low, targeting our boy for no reason."

    Another chimed in, "Seriously, she''s just a rookie writer. What''s so great about her? No respect for actors or directors¡ªwho knows what she''s like in private."

    "This is infuriating! rence and our Seraphina got screwed over for no reason. Obsidian is truly awful. Why doesn''t she just disappear?"

    "Come on, she should be grateful that a superstar actor and the hottest young actress even agreed to be in her show. Ungrateful much? I doubt Innocent will go anywhere without them."

    "Screw this. I''m never reading another Obsidian novel."

    "What on earth did CICI Media Co. see in Obsidian? Giving a hack like her so

    much power-someone must be blind over there."

    The inte was flooded with usations and hate.

    Then, just as things were getting out of hand, both rence and Seraphina

    posted on their ounts at the same time.

    @rence: Thank you all for your concern. I truly cherish the opportunity to y

    York, and I respect Obsidian''s decision.

    @Seraphina: Like rence, Diana is a role close to my heart. I respect

    Obsidian''s choice, and wish her work every sess.

 Chapter 211

    "I can''t stop crying. My heart aches for rence and Seraphina."

    "Seraphina is so magnanimous-even after all this, she still wishes Innocent huge sess. Looking at it now, Obsidian is just the worst."

    ¡°rence is such a good guy, and so is Seraphina. It''s Obsidian who''s gone too far and bullied them."

    "I''ll always support rence and Seraphina. Nothing could make me watch Innocent now."

    ...

    The moment rence and Seraphina posted on Twitter, a fresh wave of users piled on, mming Obsidian.

    "What a bunch of idiots," Amelia muttered, fuming as she scrolled through thetest updates. She spent the whole day arguing back and forth online, defending Citrine against those trashing her.

    Citrine herself, though, stayed calm. She waited patiently as the public outrage crescendoed. Then, at just the right moment, she quietly uploaded four short videos from her backup ount-each one the same: rence and Seraphina stumbling through their lines with truly awful acting.

    Back when she''d visited the Eclipse Studios set, Citrine had thought ahead and secretly filmed several takes of rence and Seraphina''s scenes together. She''d never expected the footage would actuallye in handy.

    @Obsidian: [video] I value my eyes too much to keep watching this, so here you

    go.

    Her post shot straight to the top of the trending charts.

    People who''d spent days criticizing Obsidian suddenly rushed to delete their earlierments about Citrine. Now, the tide had turned-rence and Seraphina were in the crosshairs.

    "Are these guys in elementary school? My kid could do better. They can''t even memorize a single line. Forget winning an Oscar-go get a real job."

    "I always suspected rence''s acting was garbage, but I never dared say it because his fans attack anyone who criticizes him like rabid dogs."

    "Is Seraphina a zombie? She delivers every line like her face is frozen. Did she get Botox or something?"

    "Take after take, and they still suck. The poor camera guy must be exhausted. How does anyone work with people like this?"

    "And what''s up with this useless director? Even their final take was barely tolerable, and he still said it was good enough. Talk about unprofessional."

    "So now it''s obvious-Obsidian wasn''t disrespecting the director or breaking her contract. The real problem is thiszy director and Eclipse Studios. They''re all in it together."

    "If I remember right, both Seraphina and rence are signed to Eclipse, and so is the director. Makes sense now, doesn''t it? They clearly ganged up to push Obsidian out."

    "Shameless. After all that, they still have the nerve to throw shade at Obsidian online. Pathetic. I''m switching from fan to anti right now."

    "Same here."

    "Obsidian is an absolute powerhouse. So bold-I''m obsessed."

    "Finally, someone who sees things like I do!"

    Now, Citrine''sment section was filled with praise and apologies¡ªnothing negative in sight.

    "Obsidian is so badass. I adore her."

    "Innocent is fantastic, wishing huge sess for the show."

    "I''m sorry, Obsidian-I misunderstood you before. [crying emoji]"

    "We''re so sorry, please forgive us."

    ...

    Almost overnight, public opinion flipped.

    rence and Seraphina scrambled to delete their original posts, but to everyone watching, it just made them look guilty. Now, no one doubted the authenticity of Obsidian''s videos.

 Chapter 212

    In just one afternoon, rence and Seraphina lost over a hundred thousand followers on social media. Even their most devoted fans began abandoning the fan groups in droves.

    A few dayster, eagle-eyedizens uncovered photos of rence meeting a mystery womante at night-there was no denying the evidence. Many assumed rence was secretly dating someone new. But then, more photos emerged: this time, he was at the hospital with his wife for a prenatal checkup. The dates didn''t match up, and the women were clearly not the same person.

    The next day, the scandal exploded onto the front page of every entertainment site: "Shocking! rence Caught Cheating While Wife Is Pregnant-Late Night Rendezvous with His Lover. Is This a Moral Copse or Just Human Nature at Its Worst?"

    "Disgusting. What a scumbag."

    "And to think he''s called an award-winning actor? Is there no one decent left in showbiz?"

    "rence should just disappear. Cheating on your pregnant wife¡ªare you even human?"

    "If you can''t keep it in your pants, might as well feed yourself to the dogs."

    It didn''t take long before more dirt surfaced-this time on Seraphina. Months ago, she''d been spottedte at night, dressed provocatively, entering a hotel with the CEO of Eclipse Pictures. Inte sleuths connected the dates and realized it was right before Eclipse Pictures bought the rights to *Innocent* and announced the cast. Coincidentally, the original lead actress was suddenly reced that same week.

    Digging deeper, people discovered rence had also snatched his role away from the actor who was first cast.

    "What is wrong with these people? The guy cheats on his pregnant wife, the girl sleeps with the boss for a part, and both of them love stealing other people''s roles. Neither of them has any real talent, either."

    "Honestly, these two are a match made in hell¡ªhe''s trash, she''s trash, perfect for each other."

    "If you ask me, neither of them belongs in show business. They''d be better off working at a strip club."

    ¡°Please, just tie them together and keep them out of the industry for good. rence''s wife deserves so much better."

    At this point, there was no saving the situation. rence and Seraphina''s reputations were in ruins. To Eclipse Pictures, they were nowpletely worthless. Thepany cut all ties with them, terminating their contracts on the spot.

    Meanwhile, Jake, who was still under contract with Eclipse Pictures, had secretly epted a role from CICI Media Co.¡ªa clear breach of contract, which meant he now owed a massive penalty fee.

    Desperate to pay off the fine before filming for *Innocent* began, Jake worked non-stop, juggling as many side gigs as he could. Still, the money fell far short.

    As the start date loomed, Jake finally swallowed his pride and went to the production team, asking if he could get an advance on his sry. They turned him down t.

    Just as he was reaching the end of his rope, an agent from CICI Media Co. got in touch.

    When Jake arrived for the meeting, he realized the person waiting was none other than Daryl, thepany''s legendary agent. Jake''s heart pounded with nerves and excitement; he didn''t know what to do with his hands.

    Daryl, all business, got straight to the point. "Jake, if you agree to sign with CICI Media Co., we''ll pay your penalty fee."

    Jake was stunned. Not only did they want to sign him, but they were also willing to cover his huge debt. "Why?" he blurted out.

    Daryl gave him a measuring look, then smiled. "Our boss thinks you have real potential."

    Jake pressed his lips together, his chest tightening with anxiety.

    Daryl added, "But more importantly, you''re valuable to us."

    CICI Media Co. was backed by the massive CICI Group, and every actor in the business dreamed of signing with them. Jake had never imagined they''de knocking on his door. He wasn''t about to let this chance slip away. Without a second thought, he signed the contract.

 Chapter 213

    That night, Raymond''s phone rang unexpectedly.

    On the other end, a woman and child were sobbing, their cries punctuated by a man''s hoarse, desperate pleas. His voice was raw with terror, cutting straight through the static.

    "Mr. Carmichael, I''m begging you. I know I was wrong. Please let my family go.

    The man''s despair bled through the line. Raymond frowned slightly, the tone tickling something familiar in his memory, but he couldn''t quite ce it.

    "1

    A momentter, another voice came on, businesslike but edged with menace. "Mr. Carmichael, Easton got drunk tonight and started ranting about you outside our club. Our guys are at his ce right now. Should we... send a message?"

    The implication was clear, the threat cold and precise.

    Easton?

    As soon as he heard the name, Raymond remembered. Just a traitor. He gave a soft, dismissiveugh.

    "Toss him out of Havencrest. Break his legs," Raymond ordered, his voice light and almost bored, as if he were discussing the weather.

    But as soon as the words left his mouth, Easton''s curses echoed in his mind-

    "Raymond, you''re a monster! You''ll get what''sing to you. Your own children will pay for your sins!"

    Raymond''s brow tightened. For a moment, his heart seized. He abruptly changed his mind. "Forget it. He''s just a dog who bit the hand that fed him. Not worth the trouble."

    He''d never cared about curses before. He''d always believed he''d never have a child. But now, with Citrine in his life-even if Easton''s words were nothing more than drunken spite-he couldn''t quite shake them off.

    On the other end, the man hesitated, then ventured cautiously, "Mr. Carmichael... is that really you?"

    "Of course it is," Raymond snapped, his tone icy.

    He ended the call. The man on the other end was left bewildered. Mr. Carmichael was famous for never letting a slight go unpunished. Why was he suddenly letting Easton off the hook? Then again, the minds of powerful men were always impossible to predict; as a low-levelckey, it was best not to wonder.

    Saturday arrived: Elbert Jensen''s sixtieth birthday. The Carmichael and Jensen families had been close for generations, so they were naturally invited.

    The Jensen family had seen better days, but their deep roots and wide

    connections kept them firmly entrenched in Havencrest''s upper crust.

    Raymond had business that night, so his father, Weston Carmichael, brought Citrine and Regina Carmichael to Elbert''s birthday g.

    Weston hadn''t nned to take Regina, but after her repeated pleading, he finally relented. He''d thrown her out of the house, yes, but he''d watched her grow up- his heart wasn''t made of stone.

    Gratitude, however, was thest thing on Regina''s mind.

    She was seething. In the past, at events like these, Weston would only take her; now, he had the nerve to bring Citrine along, too. To make matters worse, that wretched Citrine had shown up in a dress almost identical to hers-same color, eerily simr cut. And while both wore white, Citrine looked elegant and willowy, the very picture of a wealthy heiress. On Regina, the dress made her look stocky and awkward, the fabric highlighting every w.

    Citrine had always had that sly, seductive look-tonight, just her face would be enough to steal the spotlight. The thought made Regina burn with envy.

    She was certain Citrine had done it on purpose, just to upstage her.

    Still, Regina forced herself to y the gracious hostess. She turned to Citrine with a syrupy smile that didn''t reach her eyes. "Sister, I heard you used to be the Iversons'' foster daughter. They even sent you overseas, didn''t they? Must have been tough, never having any pocket money. I suppose you hardly ever attended events like this-probably treated worse than the maids in their house."

    It was a tired routine, borrowed from Jete Iverson and already out of style.

    Citrine listened with polite interest, then let out a sharp, amusedugh. She fired back without hesitation, "You''re right-I haven''t been to many. After all, I''m not like you, the adopted daughter of the Carmichaels, always shamelessly vying with your own cousin for attention and family resources."

 Chapter 214

    Over the years, Regina had paraded around with the Carmichael name, basking in the spotlight, while the real Carmichael heir was left in the shadows, ridiculed and dismissed by everyone.

    The moment Citrine finished speaking, several guests who knew the inside story turned to Regina, their expressions a mix of curiosity, disdain, and schadenfreude.

    "She''s just something the Carmichaels picked up off the street, acting like she''s somebody. Since when do strays get topete with the family?"

    "The actual Carmichael heir didn''t even bother showing up, but look at her, tagging along like a lost puppy. Shameless, isn''t she?"

    "Trying to take over someone else''s ce, and she really thinks she belongs."

    One sneer after another. More and more contemptuous ncesnded on Regina, making her wish she could sink into the floor and disappear.

    "You..." She hadn''t expected Citrine to say something so cutting, and, worse, she had no way to argue back. The words stuck in her throat, making her chest tight with frustration.

    "Grandpa..." Regina was so stung by Citrine''s words that her voice trembled, her lips quivering as she looked at Weston with pleading eyes, hoping he''d defend her.

    But Weston didn''t respond the way she wanted. His face was cold as he scolded, "Regina, that''s enough. Stop with your petty games."

    He''d seen the way the two girls had interacted earlier, and now he frowned, disappointment in in his eyes as he looked at Regina.

    This granddaughter of his had truly grown up the wrong way.

    He''d only agreed to bring her to the party because she''d grown up by his side; he''d wanted to give her another chance. Now, he regretted it.

    Seeing the disappointment on Weston''s face, Regina fell silent, lips pressed tight as she dared not say another word.

    Quietly, she shifted her gaze to Citrine, her eyes shing with resentment.

    That wretched girl had only juste back, and already Grandpa was showing such tant favoritism. She''s nothing but a pretty face-what right did she have to win Grandpa''s affection?

    Regina''s jealousy and anger boiled over, and in that instant, her hatred for Citrine reached a new peak.

    Just before the banquet began, Elbert arrived with his grandson and granddaughter.

    Once the honored guests were settled in their seats, Weston Carmichael and Elbert, old friends, finally sat down to chat.

    When Elbert spotted Regina, his expression softened. "Regina, it''s been ages since you visited me," he said, sounding just a little wounded.

    A glint of triumph flickered in Regina''s eyes. She strode over, nudging Le Jensen aside with practiced ease, and slipped her arm through Elbert''s, her tone sweet and familiar. "Mr. Elbert, I''ve just been busy with ssestely, that''s all. Please don''t be mad-I''lle visit you in a few days so we can y chess together."

    At that, Elbert shot a reproachful look at Weston. "Weston, I have to say- Regina''s already so outstanding. Why keep piling on more sses? If you wear her out, who''ll be around to y chess with me?"

    Weston could only stare, speechless. He hadn''t arranged any of it; Regina had insisted on the lessons herself.

    "It wasn''t me. She wanted to go," Weston said, refusing to take the me.

    Elbert just chuckled, looking even more pleased with Regina. "Regina, you really work too hard. If only our Le had your drive."

    "Mr. Elbert, Le''s already very hardworking," Regina replied, shing Le a syrupy smile.

    Le shot Regina a murderous re, silently cursing her a thousand ways.

    Elbert pursed his lips, sighing as he mentioned Le. "As if I don''t know exactly what she''s like?"

 Chapter 215

    Elbert could feel his blood pressure spike just thinking about his wayward granddaughter.

    That girl-barely a teenager and already running wild. Instead of studying, she insisted on hanging around with those no-good troublemakers outside of school, pretending to be some kind of gangster queen.

    Recently, she''d even dyed her hair a ming red. If today weren''t his birthday celebration and he hadn''t insisted she wear a wig, she''d probably have shown up with that ridiculous hair, making a spectacle of herself and him both. He could already picture theughter behind his back.

    Elbert shot a sidelong nce at his disappointing granddaughter, his tone thick with exasperation. ¡°Le, you should take a page from Regina''s book. Look at her -hardworking, responsible. If you put half as much effort into your studies, you wouldn''t have to worry about getting into a good university."

    Le and Regina both attended the prestigious Westbrook Academy-one was top of her grade, the other deadst. Elbert never missed a chance topare the two.

    She''d heard this speech so many times, her ears might as well have grown calluses.

    But Elbert''s health wasn''t what it used to be; he was too old to handle too much excitement. Le shot Regina a venomous re, grinding out a perfunctory, "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

    Regina, meanwhile, had Elbert eating out of the palm of her hand, his boomingughter ringing throughout the room.

    From start to finish, Elbert hadn''t spared so much as a nce for Citrine, who stood quietly beside Weston, as if she were invisible.

    Citrine didn''t mind in the least. She was perfectly content to y the background, enjoying the peace.

    When Elbert and Regina finally finished chatting, Weston seized the moment to make introductions. "Elbert, this is my granddaughter, Citrine Carmichael¡ª Raymond''s daughter."

    "Oh, Raymond''s girl, is she? I''ve heard her mother''s a mystery," Elbert finally deigned to look at Citrine, his tone dripping with disdain.

    He might as well have pointed at her and called her Raymond''s illegitimate child.

    "Hello, Elbert," Citrine replied evenly, picking up immediately on his hostility. Her voice was as cool and detached as his.

    Elbert''s face darkened, his brows drawing together in disapproval.

    Every other child at least had the decency to call him Mr. Elbert, but this girl? She called him by his first name, as if she''d never been taught basic manners.

    He turned to Weston, his voice sharp with mockery. "Weston, you really ought to send your granddaughter to finishing school. Teach her some manners.¡±

    It was clear Elbert was no longer just annoyed-he was truly angry.

    Regina watched the scene unfold, barely able to hide her glee. The bigger the scandal, the better.

    Weston''s demeanor changed in an instant as soon as his granddaughter was insulted.

    Citrine, on the other hand, remained unruffled. She looked Elbert straight in the eye, her tone bold and unyielding.

    "I think you''re the one who could use a lesson in manners, Elbert. I''m young, maybe a little ignorant, but I treat people the way they treat me. If you think I''m being rude, maybe you should consider the way you spoke to me first. I didn''t insult your elders, did I? So how am I the one without manners?"

    "You..." Elbert was livid, his eyes shing.

    He struggled for a retort, but all he could manage was, "Sharp-tongued brat."

    Weston''s temper red. He stood, moving protectively in front of Citrine.

    He fixed Elbert with a cold stare. "Elbert, have you finally lost your mind in your old age? This is my granddaughter. If you speak to her like that again, don''t me me for cutting ties."

    The Carmichaels and the Jensens had been friends for decades, but this was the first time Weston and Elbert had shed so openly.

    And all over a girl who, until now, had barely made a blip on anyone''s radar.

    In the past, Weston had doted on Regina, but even when she''d been bullied at gatherings like this, he''d never intervened. People used to call her the Carmichaels'' stray mutt, and Weston had let it slide. But now, after Elbert had said just a couple of pointed words to Citrine-nothing even that harsh-Weston was already furious. Clearly, Citrine meant something different to him.

    Elbert, ever the pragmatist, recognized when to back down. No matter how angry he was, he had little choice but to swallow it. Grudgingly, he muttered, "Fine. It''s my birthday I won''t make a scene."

    Regina, watching Weston publicly defend Citrine, couldn''t hide a flicker of shock in her eyes.

    Weston was always so concerned with appearances, never letting his grandchildren break the rules in public. She remembered years ago, at another party, when Travis Carmichael had dared to talk back to Elbert. Weston hadn''t defended him at all-he''d made Travis apologize to everyone, and when Travis refused, he''d even brought out the family discipline at home.

 Chapter 216

    Weston was handling the exact same situation, yet his approach toward Citrine waspletely different.

    He was tantly ying favorites.

    Regina red at Citrine, her eyes sharp as knives, as if she could cut her down with just a look.

    But then she remembered the gift and performance she''d prepared for Elbert today, and her confidence quickly returned.

    Tonight, she was determined to steal the show and outshine Citrine Carmichael in front of everyone.

    Halfway through the party, Regina strode forward and presented her gift-a delicate watercolor painting. The moment Elbertid eyes on it, he was clearly taken with it, showering her with praise.

    A momentter, Elbert''s gaze caught on the artist''s signature in the corner of the painting. He brightened, staring at Regina in surprise. "Is this an original by Master Hancock?"

    Regina nodded, feigning modesty. "We''re friends, actually. This was a gift from him."

    At her words, Elbert and the other guests all turned to look at Regina, some full of envy at her connection with Master Hancock, others quietly impressed that she''d earned the artist''s favor.

    In an instant, Regina became the center of attention.

    Citrine nced at the painting in Elbert''s hands, the corners of her lips hinting at a wry, almost mocking smile.

    Elbert, still thrilled, turned to Regina. "This is so thoughtful of you. I really do love

    it."

    After Regina confirmed the gift''s authenticity, Elbert''s face lit up with genuine delight.

    "As long as you like it," Regina replied, her tone demure but her heart swelling with pride.

    With that, she turned her gaze to Citrine, her eyes glinting with calction. "Citrine, I wonder what you''ve prepared for Mr. Elbert''s birthday?"

    All eyes shifted to Citrine.

    Citrine hesitated, unsure whether to give her gift at all, and fell silent for a moment. Noticing this, Regina''s eyes darted to the small, ckcquer box in Citrine''s hands, a flicker of scorn passing over her face.

    Such a shabby little thing-hardly worthy of the asion.

    "Citrine, don''t tell me that''s your gift for Mr. Elbert?" Regina said, and before

    Citrine could react, she snatched the little box from her hands.

    She turned it over in her palms, feigning surprise. "Citrine, it''s Mr. Elbert''s birthday. Don''t you think you could do better than something so cheap?"

    A few guests nodded in agreement. "She''s right. That looks awfully in. The box itself seems old-definitely not something fit for a birthday gift."

    "Honestly, you could pick up something like this for a couple bucks at any discount store. I can''t believe she''d bring this out in public."

    "The Carmichaels aren''t exactly short on money. Why be so stingy?"

    "A family like the Carmichaels, and this is what they bring? It''s embarrassing."

    "Compared to Regina''s genuine Master Hancock painting, that little box is just... sad."

    "Don''t touch my things." Citrine''s expression turned cold as she snatched the ck box back from Regina.

    This thing was worth far more than any of them realized-if they didn''t want it, she certainly wasn''t about to force it on them.

    In fact, she''d rather throw it away than give it to someone who didn''t appreciate it.

    Citrine looked right at Elbert and said in a clear, unwavering voice, ¡°Since Mr. Elbert isn''t interested, I''ll just keep this little trinket for myself. I''ll find something else to give youter."

    Several guests immediately started whispering, calling Citrine petty and small- minded, but she couldn''t care less.

    Regina, on the other hand, was practically glowing with satisfaction.

    Next, Regina volunteered to perform at Elbert''s birthday party-a tradition everyone expected by now, since Elbert was so fond of music and no one dared object.

    Regina had studied piano for years and was undeniably talented. She sat at the grand piano, her performance so polished it felt like a concert. When she finished, the room erupted in praise.

    Elbert beamed at her, unreserved in hispliments. "Regina, you''re so talented. You''ve made your grandfather proud."

    Regina''s heart swelled with pride, though she kept her expression humble.

    She nced at Citrine, a smug little smile on her lips. "Mr. Elbert, my sister is talented too. Why don''t we invite her to perform for everyone?"

 Chapter 217

    ¡°Ms. Carmichael, how about a performance? It is Elbert''s birthday, after all. Even if you didn''t bring a proper gift, surely you won''t begrudge us a song."

    "Yes, Ms. Carmichael, you''re a Carmichael, after all. Don''t tell us you can''t even y the piano?"

    "Don''t worry-even if you''re not as talented as Miss Regina, we won''tugh at you. There aren''t many prodigies like her, you know."

    A number of guests began to chime in, some simply eager for drama, others¡ª wealthy young men with less-than-honorable intentions-openly eyeing Citrine with bold, hungry gazes.

    At that moment, Elbert finally spoke up.

    ¡°Ms. Carmichael, it''s my birthday today. Since everyone wants to see you perform, do me the honor and y a piece, won''t you?"

    Elbert didn''t actually believe Citrine had any real talent; he just wanted to see her make a spectacle of herself.

    Citrine could see right through him. Without hesitation, she declined. ¡°Elbert, I''m really not very good. I''d rather not embarrass myself."

    She nced at the piano, lips pressed together, her face pale and her expression difficult to read.

    No sooner had she finished speaking than the murmurs around the room grew louder.

    "What a petty woman. It''s just a piano piece-what''s the big deal? It''s Elbert''s birthday."

    "So unrefined. Doesn''t even have the manners to entertain the host."

    "Compared to her, Miss Regina is so much more gracious."

    Hearing this chorus of criticism directed at his granddaughter, Weston could barely contain himself. His face darkened, and he mmed his hand onto the table.

    "I''d like to see anyone dare say another word about my granddaughter! Tired of living, are you, picking a fight with the Carmichael family?" He almost never threw his family''s weight around, but today he''d been pushed too far.

    He''d wanted tosh out all evening, and if Citrine hadn''t been begging him to keep his cool, Weston would have flipped the table and stormed out long ago.

    At his outburst, the room fell instantly silent.

    The Carmichaels were the top family in Havencrest-Weston''s reaction left no doubt about how much he doted on his granddaughter.

    No one dared say another word, nor even risk underestimating Citrine, the Carmichael heiress.

    Seeing Weston''s anger, Elbert''s brow twitched. He reached out, trying to calm the old man. "Come on, Weston, we just wanted Ms. Carmichael to y something. Isn''t this a bit much?"

    Weston shook him off and shot back coldly, "A bit much? Did you even hear the garbage they were spouting?"

    Right then, Citrine arched a brow, her tone dripping with arrogance. "Not just anyone gets to hear me y. If you want a performance, Elbert, you''ll have to pay up."

    The guests all stared at her in shock, inwardly mocking her for being money- obsessed-demanding payment for a song at a birthday party! But no one dared say a word aloud.

    Elbert''s expression darkened considerably.

    Unbelievable. He''d only asked her to y a song, and the girl wanted him to pay for it.

    He''d never encountered such a thorny kid before. Turning to Weston, Elbert''s voice was edged with anger. "Weston, don''t you think your granddaughter''s a bit full of herself?"

    "What is she, some famous concert pianist? Asking me to pay for a song!" Elbert had never been so publicly slighted; his face was thunderous.

    Weston''s eye twitched, and he nearly spat out his tea.

 Chapter 218

    He''d always known his granddaughter was sharp-young as she was, Citrine Carmichael had a mind of her own and wasn''t someone you could take advantage of. He''d guessed she wouldn''t swallow her anger for nothing, but hearing her demand Elbert pay up still left Weston Jensen momentarily speechless.

    And Citrine wasn''t finished. She looked straight at Elbert, the arch of her brow unmistakably bold. "These days, even a mediocre concert costs a few thousand dors, and you want me to perform at your birthday party for free? Isn''t that wishful thinking? You''re basically asking for a handout."

    There was nothing polite about her words.

    Elbert was so furious he nearly choked. After a fit of coughing, he mmed his palm on the table. "Money''s all you want? Fine. Even if I have to pay for it, I want to see what Ms. Carmichael can do."

    "How much?" he ground out, jaw clenched.

    Citrine''s lips curled, a mischievous spark flickering in her eyes. "Oh, not much. Seeing as there''s such a big crowd tonight, let''s keep it simple-five hundred thousand dors even."

    "Half a million? That''s daylight robbery!" Elbert''s face turned ashen, his voice rising several octaves. He''d never met a society girl who talked about money so brazenly-it was downright vulgar.

    Seeing his reluctance, Citrine''s brows shot up and she goaded him, "Don''t tell me the Jensen family can''t even cough up half a million?"

    She covered her mouth in mock surprise. "No way. People have been saying for years the Jensens were going downhill, but I didn''t think it was true."

    Her tone was outrageously exaggerated.

    Elbert couldn''t stand anyone ndering his family''s reputation. His expression darkened as he snapped, "Who says the Jensens are finished?"

    "It''s just half a million. We can afford it." He shot a look at his grandson, and Truman Jensen immediately handed Citrine a card.

    She took it with a satisfied smile in her eyes.

    "Elbert, you''re refreshingly straightforward. Well then, I''ll do as you wish."

    With that, Citrine strode toward the gleaming white grand piano in the center of the ballroom.

    Across the room, Regina Iverson watched, a flicker of glee in her eyes.

    She''d already heard all about Citrine''s reputation in the Carmichael family¡ª spoiled, undisciplined, clueless about music or art, hopeless at everything. Regina could hardly wait for her to make a fool of herself. How shameless, demanding Elbert pay for a performance! Regina could almost taste the satisfaction of seeing Citrine humiliated in front of the city''s elite.

    If Citrine offended Elbert and then embarrassed herself tonight, she''d be aughingstock in high society. The thought made Regina''s heart race with excitement.

    She fixed her gaze on Citrine at the piano, waiting eagerly for her to crash and burn.

    Citrine sat at the bench, her slender fingers hovering lightly over the keys.

    As the first notes sounded, her hands drifted down.

    Music filled the room-and Regina couldn''t help but snort withughter. Several guests who knew their way around a keyboard were already frowning.

    "What is she even ying? It''s got no rhythm, no soul-it''s like listening to a dial tone."

    "No technique, no ir. Compared to Miss Regina, it''s night and day."

    "I don''t even recognize this piece-must be something she made up.¡±

    "Honestly, the Carmichael girl ys like a kid in grade school. My little brother''s in sixth grade, and he''s better than this."

    ¡°And she dared charge Elbert half a million? That''s outright robbery."

    "Enough, enough-someone stop her before she ruins that beautiful piano."

 Chapter 219

    Citrine paid no mind to the murmurs and grumbling in the crowd below. She kept ying at her own steady pace, unfazed andposed.

    As the voices ofint grew louder, Citrine''s hands moved ever more energetically across the piano''s ivory and ebony keys. The music picked up speed, each note tumbling after the next, the melody surging and crashing like a violent storm-urgent, relentless, and heavy with emotion.

    Her fingers flew so fast that all anyone could see were fleeting traces, the blur of motion left in their wake.

    And yet, despite the breakneck tempo, she didn''t miss a single note.

    The music swelled, growing more and more intense, when suddenly someone in the audience gasped.

    "Oh my God, that''s ''ck Moonlight,'' the signature piece of thete music legend! It''s considered the most difficult pianoposition in the world. I can''t believe Citrine is ying it."

    "And she hasn''t missed a single note! Until now, only the legend himself could pull it off from start to finish."

    "If I''m not mistaken, Ms. Carmichael hasn''t looked at the sheet music once."

    "Did you notice? Her technique, even her emotional phrasing-she''s almost a mirror of the legend himself. Honestly, her interpretation is even more moving than his original recording."

    "I''ll admit I was a bit loud earlier-I used to think Regina was talented, butpared to Ms. Carmichael, she''s got a long way to go."

    "Ms. Carmichael''s the truly gifted one. I never expected to hear a wless performance of ''ck Moonlight'' here tonight. Elbert''s five million was worth every penny."

    ...

    As the final note faded, thunderous apuse erupted from the audience.

    Weston held his head high, beaming with pride-his granddaughter had once again astonished him.

    Meanwhile, Elbert and Regina looked absolutely miserable. No one had expected Citrine to y the piano, let alone master thete legend''s iconic piece. That performance alone was proof enough of Citrine''s skill; whatever resentment they still harbored, Elbert and Regina had no choice but to join the guests in apuse.

    Weston, basking in the glow of Citrine''s triumph, shot Elbert a smug look. "Well? Isn''t my granddaughter remarkable?"

    Elbert, watching Weston strut about, was seething inside. He forced a strained smile. "Ms. Carmichael is indeed remarkable."

    As soon as Citrine stepped down from the stage, Weston rushed to her, pulling her protectively to his side.

    He eyed Elbert with a cool, guarded stare. "My granddaughter has put up with enough here tonight. We''ll be taking our leave."

    "Weston, this is my birthday party-you can''t just walk out," Elbert protested, hisst trace of a smile vanishing, his face gone pale.

    Weston, the most distinguished guest tonight, had been invited precisely to lend prestige to the event. For him to leave halfway through was a p in the face.

    But Weston had made up his mind. He looked at Elbert expressionlessly, his voice carrying a warning. "Elbert, you''ve crossed a line tonight. Don''t let it happen again."

    Elbert stiffened, realizing Old Weston was truly angry. He didn''t dare say another word.

    Weston turned to Citrine, his tone gentle. "Come on, Citrine. Let''s go home." The memory of tonight''s cold stares and snidements toward his granddaughter still burned in Weston''s mind. He felt a pang of guilt for all she''d endured at her age-first with the Iverson family, now here. As her grandfather, he vowed never to let her be hurt again.

    Citrine stared at Weston, a little dazed. She couldn''t help but feel that he, like Raymond, was acting strangely gentletely-but it was a change she didn''t mind at all.

 Chapter 220

    She just didn''t know how to face it.

    Citrine nced away, doing her best to avoid meeting Weston''s eyes. Her posture was stiff, betraying her difort.

    "I still have one more thing to do. I can''t leave just yet." She tried to keep her voice as even and casual as possible.

    "What is it?" Weston asked, clearly surprised.

    "This." Citrine reached into her pocket and pulled out a small ck box.

    Elbert, spotting the familiar object, immediately turned away with a look of annoyance. "Ms. Carmichael, you really ought to keep that thing for yourself." Weston frowned, about to scold Elbert, but Citrine gently caught his arm.

    "Don''t get worked up. It''s bad for your health."

    Weston immediately reined himself in, a wave of warmth spreading through him as he looked at his granddaughter. She always knew how to take care of him¡ª she was his little angel, always so considerate.

    In that moment, Weston felt there couldn''t possibly be an old man more blessed than he was. He was just about to revel in the feeling when Citrine averted her gaze, moving on.

    Weston: ... Happiness is always so fleeting.

    He consoled himself: It''s fine. Sometimes, even a brief moment is enough.

    At that moment, Citrine turned to Elbert with a small, knowing smile, her voice carrying easily to the crowd. "You''re overthinking it. This isn''t for you."

    Elbert gave a dismissive snort, silently thinking he wouldn''t want that odd little thing even if she tried to give it to him.

    With that, Citrine turned back to the assembled guests and, right in front of them all, opened the ck box in her hand.

    "Take a look, everyone."

    Inside the box rested a small, iridescent pill-delicate and lustrous, giving off a faint, herbal fragrance.

    "What kind of medicine is that?" A few curious guests leaned in for a closer look. Citrine smiled, but kept her secret. "Why don''t you see if you can figure it out?" One guest stared intently at the pill for a long moment, until suddenly a realization struck him. He gasped.

    "I know what this is-it''s Vitaflux! It''s Vitaflux!" His eyes shone with excitement.

    The other guests crowded around, murmuring in awe. Some of the more worldly socialites recognized it at once.

    Someone eximed, "It''s real-this is the real thing!"

    "I once had the opportunity to see one up close at an auction overseas, but that pill wasn''t actually for sale."

    "This is incredibly rare-almost impossible to find. If you take it out of its solution, it must be consumed the same day, or it loses its effect."

    "Vitaflux was invented by one of the world''s greatest medical minds. It can neutralize any toxin, restore the body''s organs, even extend life. For those suffering from serious illness, it''s a miracle¡ªalmost likeing back from the dead."

    One guest, unable to contain his excitement, turned to Citrine. "This is priceless! How did you get your hands on it?"

    Citrine merely smiled. "That''s my secret."

    The guest didn''t seem offended, and quickly apologized. "Forgive me for being presumptuous, Ms. Carmichael."

    Naturally, anyone who could acquire such a thing must have powerful

    connections. It was only natural she wouldn''t want to say more.

    Meanwhile, Elbert, Le, and Truman all turned to stare at Citrine.

    A few years back, Elbert had suffered a grave illness that left his organs weakened. The doctors had warned that if he rpsed, he''d have only a few years left unless, by some miracle, he could obtain Vitaflux. Stubborn as always, Elbert hadn''t believed them. He threw himself into exercise and healthy eating, and managed to stave off the illness-untilst year, when it returned. The doctors'' warning was clear: without Vitaflux, time was running out.

    Elbert''s eyes sparkled as he stared at the pill in Citrine''s hand.

    But just then, Citrine raised her voice so everyone could hear. "Today, right here,

    I''m going to auction off this Vitaflux. Highest bidder wins."

 Chapter 221

    There was a time abroad when someone had been willing to put down a billion dors, desperate to acquire a single Vitaflux pill, and still came up empty- handed.

    Money alone couldn''t buy this drug; anyone who managed to get their hands on it had to have extraordinary connections or ess to exclusive channels.

    Just this fact alone made the atmosphere in the room shift dramatically. The guests'' attitudes toward Citrine underwent aplete turnaround.

    Even if they couldn''t win her favor, no one wanted to risk offending Ms. Carmichael. The resources and connections she possessed could mean the difference between life and death in a crisis.

    Everyone present was wealthy and influential, and when Citrine announced she would be auctioning off the pill, excitement rippled through the crowd.

    For some, this was a life-saving chance; a precious cure for a sick loved one. For others, it was the promise of longevity-something priceless to bring home to an aging parent or grandparent, even if their family was in perfect health.

    No one was immune to temptation.

    Under dozens of hopeful, burning gazes, Citrine parted her lips and spoke, "Starting bid: five hundred million."

    Vitaflux was legendary, nearly impossible to obtain, and no one dared haggle. In fact, no one even thought the price unreasonable. To them, the mere fact this miracle drug was being auctioned tonight made them feel like fortune''s favorite.

    Citrine had barely finished her words before the first bid rang out.

    "Ms. Carmichael, six hundred million," called an elderly gentleman in a crisp suit, his hair silver at the temples.

    "Six-fifty!" another voice chimed in.

    "Seven hundred million."

    "Eight hundred million."

    The bids came one after another, voices ovepping, filling the hall with restless energy.

    Citrine and Weston Carmichael, Raymond''s father, stood at the heart of the crowd, surrounded by eager faces and rising excitement.

    By contrast, Elbert was left in a pocket of quiet, with only his grandchildren and Regina Carmichael forpany.

    As the numbers soared ever higher, Elbert''s face grew paler, regret flickering in his eyes.

    He needed that pill-needed it desperately. He couldn''t let anyone else walk away with it.

    With that thought, Elbert pushed his way into the throng.

    He nced at Citrine, whose expression was cool and unyielding, then turned to Weston.

    "Weston, old friend, about earlier-I misunderstood your granddaughter," he said, voice tinged with remorse. If he''d known what kind of treasure she intended to give him, he would never have refused her gift.

    The regret gnawed at Elbert as he looked at Weston, hope shining in his eyes, silently pleading for help a mediator, perhaps.

    "If

    f you know it was a misunderstanding, then you should apologize to Citrine," Weston replied with a cold snort, refusing to meet his gaze.

    His tone was sharp, his face drawn. He was still reeling from the shock of seeing his own granddaughter so casually produce a Vitaflux pill, and now she was auctioning it off before a crowd.

    That pill was nothing less than a miracle, a source of new life and extended years -something the richest people in the world would kill to possess. And here she was, selling it as if it were nothing. The thought alone made Weston''s heart ache.

    But he couldn''t undermine his own granddaughter in public, so he forced himself to let her be.

    "Apologize?" Elbert''s forced smile almost slipped off his face at Weston''s words.

    A man of his age apologizing to someone so much younger-if word got out, he''d be aughingstock.

    "Weston, we''ve been friends for decades. At least give me a little dignity here," Elbert tried, appealing to their long friendship.

    Weston''s brow furrowed. He waved a hand dismissively. "If you''re not willing, then forget it."

    His expression turned cold.

    To think Elbert expected to smooth things over with Citrine without so much as an apology¡ªall for the sake of a miracle drug.

    Weston had always admired Elbert for his straightforwardness, but tonight, seeing him like this, he realized how little that friendship meant when push came to shove.

 Chapter 222

    Rejected by Weston, Elbert grew anxious.

    He hesitated for a moment, then finally clenched his jaw and gave in.

    "All right. I apologize."

    As soon as he spoke, Elbert turned to Citrine with a smile, his attitude aplete reversal from before.

    He softened his tone and said, "Youngdy, I was wrong to use you earlier. Let me offer you a sincere apology."

    Elbert finished, still smiling, his eyes fixed on Citrine.

    It wasn''t long before Citrine spoke up, and Elbert''s face immediately changed.

    She let out a short, scornfulugh, a hint of mockery in her eyes. "Are you really apologizing, Elbert? Or is it just because you want this pill?"

    She raised her hand, letting the small capsule roll between her fingers, watching Elbert with a half-smile.

    The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to Elbert.

    His face drained of color.

    Seeing this, Citrine suddenly broke into augh. "Rx, Elbert. I''m just teasing."

    She nodded, putting on an air of sincerity. "I trust you wouldn''t stoop to that. After all, when I offered you this as a birthday gift before, you refused it outright. A man of your reputation would never go back on his word, would you?"

    Elbert stood frozen, caught between speaking up and keeping quiet, realizing toote that he''d cornered himself.

    But life and death outweighed pride. Forcing himself forward, Elbert pressed on. "Youngdy, I was a friend of your grandfather''s. I''m desperate this pill is myst hope. For your grandfather''s sake, could you give it to me?"

    Afraid she''d refuse, Elbert quickly amended, "Or sell it! Name your price, I''ll pay anything."

    He looked at Citrine, eyes pleading. At this moment, his fate rested entirely in the hands of a girl young enough to be his granddaughter, and he had no choice but to swallow his pride.

    For a moment, he thought maybe, just maybe, Citrine would agree¡ªif not for his sake, then at least for Weston''s.

    But Citrine''s answer was swift and firm. "No."

    She met his gaze, her voice cool and even. "This was meant to be a birthday gift for you. You were the one who turned it down. Why should I sell it to you now? Besides, whether I gift or sell something, I only give it to people I feel a connection with."

    She paused, then added, "I''m sorry, Elbert, but I just don''t feel that connection with you."

    Beforeing to the Jensen estate, she''d made a point to research Elbert''s preferences and had learned about his health issues. That was why she''d decided to bring Vitaflux for him.

    The Carmichaels had always treated her well, and if it weren''t for their longstanding friendship with the Jensens, she never would have considered bringing such a rare medicine as a gift.

    Now, as the guests grew eager for the chance to bid on the Vitaflux, they watched Elbert''s desperate attempts to sway Citrine and couldn''t help but speak out.

    "Elbert, I know you invited me here today, but I have to say this: when Ms. Carmichael offered you the pill, you turned her down. You can''t just demand it now because you changed your mind."

    "Exactly. You dismissed it without a second thought, and now you want it back? Life doesn''t work that way."

    As soon as the crowd realized Elbert was trying to snatch the Vitaflux out from under them, they became indignant. ¡°That''s not fair, Elbert! You already said no. You shouldn''t be allowed to take part in the auction now."

    "That''s right! You made your choice. This is our chance, so don''t try to take it from us."

 Chapter 223

    Several guests just couldn''t help themselves-they grumbled about Elbert, if only to themselves.

    "Elbert must be kicking himself now. That miracle medicine was practically handed to him, and now he couldn''t buy it back if he begged."

    "If I missed out on a fortune like that, I''d be crying my eyes out."

    "He always seemed so shrewd. Who''d have thought he''d be such a fool, tossing away a priceless treasure like that?"

    ...

    Tonight, everyone had their sights set on the pill in Citrine''s hands. Thest thing anyone wanted was another bidder thrown into the mix-especially not Elbert. Competition was already fierce enough. No one wanted to see their odds shrink for no reason at all.

    Someone, worried that Citrine might go soft, piped up, "Ms. Carmichael, Elbert turned down your offer before. Please, don''t let him join the bidding now."

    "That''s right, Ms. Carmichael, don''t let your heart get the better of you," another chimed in.

    ...

    The chorus of anxious voices made Citrine''s head spin. With a sigh, she looked at the crowd, held up four fingers, and promised, "I won''t let Elbert participate in the auction. You have my word. Now, let''s get back to it."

    At her assurance, the guests finally rxed. The bidding erupted with renewed enthusiasm.

    Elbert watched, barely able to stand. If not for his grandson and granddaughter at his side, he might have copsed right there.

    It stung to realize that the priceless Vitaflux pill-now the star of a cutthroat auction-had originally been meant as a birthday gift for him, from that girl. The ache in his chest only grew sharper.

    He could only watch as the miracle medicine slipped through his fingers. His eyes turned red.

    The bidding war grew heated until, atst, an elderly gentleman snatched up the Vitaflux with a winning bid of 1.5 billion.

    When it was over, Citrine, glowing with satisfaction, left the banquet with Weston at her side.

    What Citrine didn''t know was that, as soon as she and Weston left, the rest of the guests filtered out as well.

    After tonight, it was obvious to everyone that Citrine and Elbert were at odds.

    And, in the eyes of the upper crust, anyone who could produce something as rare as Vitaflux was far more valuable than Elbert. In their world, power and influence always won out-alliances shifted with the winds of opportunity. Citrine was the better bet, and everyone knew it. After all, those who tried to y both sides rarely came out ahead.

    Outside, Citrine''s smile was unbreakable.

    She was practically giddy-she''d just made a fortune.

    Weston, on the other hand, was the picture of gloom, shuffling along with none of his usual energy.

    Citrine was too busy basking in her victory to notice at first, but after a while, she caught on. She looked at Weston in confusion. "What''s with the long face, Old Weston? I just made a bundle-shouldn''t you be happy?"

    She frowned, genuinely puzzled. "Aren''t you even a little excited?"

    Ever since Citrine had spent some time at the old family estate, her bond with Weston had only grown stronger, and she''d dropped the formalities, calling him "Old Weston" without a second thought.

    Weston didn''t mind in fact, he found it endearing, so he just went along with her.

    But right now, his mood was a tangled mess. He felt as if he''d missed out on a billion-dor deal.

    Seeing him so glum, Citrine nudged him. "Come on, Old Weston, cheer up! Let''s go out and have some fun. I guarantee you''ll feel better in no time."

    There was a brightness to her that was rare-her smile, for once, was genuine. Weston''s heart softened at the sight. "Alright, little firecracker," he chuckled, unable to resist her infectious enthusiasm. And for the first time that night, he smiled, too.

 Chapter 224

    In that moment, he thought to himself that if giving her that pill could buy the girl a bit of happiness, it was worth it.

    Citrine hadn''t been kidding when she said she''d take Weston out for a good time. When dinner rolled around, Weston told the driver not to bother picking him up. After they finished their meal out, Citrine led Weston straight to an arcade. Standing at the entrance, Weston eyed the neon lights and ring music with deep suspicion, his brows knitted tight as he instinctively took a few steps back.

    "What on earth are you dragging me to a ce like this for?" he grumbled, clear disdain in his voice. "It''s noisy, crowded-exactly the sort of ce that attracts all the wrong people."

    Citrine couldn''t help but roll her eyes. "Oh,e on. It''s just an entertainment center. All the young folks hang out here these days."

    Weston scoffed. "No respectable person wastes time in ces like this. If you''ve got time to kill, you should be learning how to run apany, not frittering away your future on mindless games."

    His prejudice ran deep, and Citrine knew better than to expect him to change overnight.

    Some things just took time.

    "Let''s go in-try it at least," Citrine said, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the games inside.

    "No way." Weston looked downright offended by the suggestion.

    "Come on, you''ll have fun." Seeing his resistance, Citrine simply grabbed his arm and dragged him through the doors, ignoring his protests.

    Once inside, Weston looked awkward, hands sped behind his back as he wandered around, ncing here and there, everything catching his curious eye.

    Citrine, noticing his interest, grinned. "Old man Weston, I bet you never yed any of these when you were a kid."

    The words hit him square in the chest.

    As the sole heir to the Carmichael Group, his childhood had been spent under his parents'' strict regime-every day was either a contest of physical endurance or academic achievement.

    ces like this were absolutely off-limits. In his parents'' eyes, arcades were the devil''s yground-a surefire way to ruin one''s character.

    Citrine disappeared to the front desk and returned with a stack of tokens. Weston was still standing in the same spot, taking everything in with wide-eyed fascination. Citrine took him on a tour around the arcade.

    She only stopped when she found something she liked.

    Pointing at a giant screen showing a hunter-versus-zombies shooter, she said,

    "Old man Weston, how about we try this shooting game?"

    Weston was all set to refuse, but when he saw the hopeful look in Citrine''s eyes, he couldn''t bring himself to say no.

    He gave a reluctant nod.

    Citrine''s excitement was palpable.

    Words of encouragement tumbled out: "Old man Weston, you''re doing great- you''re not a party pooper at all. That already puts you ahead of ny percent of the grandpas out there."

    Weston didn''t say anything, but his chest swelled with pride.

    His granddaughter was actually praising him.

    Not a party pooper-he''d never heard that before, but he liked the sound of it.

    They each picked up a stic gun. Citrine, as it turned out, was a sharpshooter- within minutes, she''d sted the heads off several zombies.

    Weston nced over at her score, then at his own, which was still stubbornly stuck at zero. Suddenly, hispetitive streak red to life.

    Predictably, he lost that first round.

    But Weston wasn''t the type to back down from a challenge. The more he lost, the more determined he became.

    Citrine ended up stuck at that shooting game with him for over an hour.

    They tried out a bunch of other games, and by the time they finally left, it waste.

    Only then did Weston finally ask what he''d been wondering all night. ¡°So, why are you auctioning off Vitaflux?"

 Chapter 225

    At that moment, Weston''s mind was already racing with wild possibilities.

    Maybe the girl had been upset by something at the birthday dinner today. Young people get frustrated-it''s perfectly normal. Maybe she just wanted to vent her anger and did what she did to make herself feel better. That wouldn''t be entirely unreasonable.

    Or maybe she was just too young to understand how precious those pills really

    were.

    Weston ran through countless scenarios in his head, but when he heard Citrine''s casual reply, his eyes widened in shock. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak.

    "Oh, those things? I''ve got plenty of them," Citrine said with a nonchnt shrug, as if she were discussing something utterly mundane.

    She actually had an entire stash of those pills back in herb-she''d only recently finished developing them, and they were still practically fresh out of the oven.

    Weston''s mind was reeling. "You... you''re calling that miracle drug just ''those things''?"

    That was Vitaflux she was talking about the kind of life-saving medicine that money couldn''t even buy.

    Before his words had even faded, Weston suddenly remembered the second half of Citrine''s sentence, and his expression grew even more incredulous. "Wait- you''re saying you still have more?"

    He stared at her in disbelief.

    Citrine just nodded, unfazed. "Yep. Loads."

    Weston swallowed, feeling as if he''d stumbled onto something earth-shattering.

    He looked at Citrine seriously, lowering his voice. "How much is ''loads''?"

    Citrine scratched her head, trying to recall the exact amount. After a moment, she answered earnestly, "Probably an entire cab full, I guess."

    "A cab?" Weston''s eyes grew even wider.

    "Sure." Seeing his interest, Citrine said offhandedly, "If you like, I''ll bring a few for you tomorrow."

    She was so generous about it, as if those pills were nothing special as if giving them away was no big deal at all.

    Weston was speechless.

    This was a life-saving drug! Even if the girl had a lot, the fact that she could hand them out without a second thought was almost unbelievable.

    Worried she might be taken advantage of someday, Weston''s face suddenly turned serious. ¡°Listen to me, kid. When you''re out and about, you absolutely cannot let anyone know you have Vitaflux. And don''t just give them away, understand?"

    Citrine had been about to say she knew what she was doing, but meeting the concern in Weston''s eyes, she simply nodded in agreement.

    Weston didn''t ask any more questions, even though he still had no idea how Citrine had gotten her hands on Vitaflux.

    The next day, true to her word, Citrine brought him three Vitaflux capsules. She didn''t even bother with a pillbox; instead, she''d soaked the pills in a special solution, which kept them preserved until they were needed.

    Weston was so taken with the three precious pills that he immediately had a specialb-grade safe installed, locking them away as if they were priceless treasures.

    Each one of these miracle drugs was worth a fortune-billions, even¡ªand more importantly, they could save a life at a critical moment.

    The thought cast a shadow over Weston''s face.

    That evening, Weston called Raymond Carmichael back to the family estate.

    He told Raymond everything that had happened at the birthday celebration,

    including Citrine''s delivery of the three Vitaflux capsules.

    Weston''s tone was grave, and Raymond''s brow furrowed with concern.

    "Dad, you''re worried that if people find out Citrine has Vitaflux, she''ll be a target."

    "Don''t you worry about that?" Weston sighed, the joy he''d felt earlier now reced by unease.

    "Citrine is even more capable than we ever imagined."

    The more capable she was, the more likely she''d attract the attention of people with bad intentions. Weston was already considering hiring a team of bodyguards for her.

    He''d rather go without the pills than see his granddaughter put in harm''s way.

 Chapter 226

    "I''ll keep her safe," Raymond said quietly, pressing his lips together. He

    understood exactly what Weston was getting at. As Citrine''s father, he would do everything in his power to protect her.

    Weston nced at his son, then suddenly asked, "Do you know where Citrine got all that Vitaflux from?"

    Raymond shook his head, his gaze shadowed. "I have no idea. I only found out about it today."

    He paused, struggling for words. "Citrine... she''s always been so much sharper than most kids, and so stubborn about doing things her own way. Half the time, I have no idea what she''s thinking. Sometimes, it feels like she doesn''t even want me to understand her."

    "She rarely tells me anything. I mean, I didn''t even know she''d been sick for ages I only heard about it from someone else." Raymond''s voice grew thick with frustration and defeat.

    "Citrine''s sick?" Weston stared at him in surprise.

    Just yesterday, she''d dragged him out to that noisy arcade,ughing and joking like any other teenager. How could she suddenly be ill?

    Raymond read the confusion on his father''s face and shook his head with a sigh. "Not physically. It''s... psychological."

    "The doctor Citrine introduced me to was actually her therapist. That''s how I found out she''s been struggling with severe depression for years. There was even a time when she nearly... ended her own life."

    As Raymond spoke, his voice trembled, and pain flickered in his eyes.

    Weston struggled to imagine it: that girl, always so cheeky and full of life, calling him "Old Weston" without a hint of respect-how could someone like that suffer from depression? The thought of her once losing all will to live, when she''d always seemed so vibrant, left a sharp ache in his heart.

    He let out a long sigh, sorrow clouding his features. "That poor kid... She''s had it rough, hasn''t she?"

    If she''d had even a sliver of hope left, she never would have tried to end it all.

    Raymond caught the grief in his father''s expression and almost doubted his own eyes.

    This was a man who''d always been cold-blooded; even when Manley Carmichael lost the use of his legs, Weston hadn''t shown a shred of sadness. And now, here he was, feeling sorry for Citrine.

    Raymond was genuinely surprised. As he thought back on why his father had called him over today, a sense of realization dawned on him.

    He looked at Weston, astonished. "Dad, since when did you and Citrine get so close?"

    Weston puffed up with pride. "I''m her grandpa, of course we''re close."

    Ever since Raymond had left town on that business trip, Weston and Citrine had been spending every day together, their rtionship growing by leaps and bounds. Now, Citrine was the apple of Weston''s eye.

    At this, Raymond''s expression shifted. Suddenly, he felt an unfamiliar sense of rivalry.

    He looked at his father with a sneer. "Well, I''m her dad. No matter how close you two get, you can''tpare to the bond between a father and daughter."

    Weston smirked. "Just yesterday, Citrine took me out for games."

    "Has she ever taken you, her own father, out for fun?"

    Raymond clenched his jaw. "...No, I don''t think she has."

    Weston wasn''t done bragging. "She even said I was the most entertaining old

    man around, and she gave me three Vitaflux capsules."

    The satisfaction on his face was impossible to miss.

    Raymond couldn''t help the pang of jealousy that shot through him.

    His own daughter had never taken him out for a day of fun, but she''d gone out with the old man instead.

    That cranky old guy, at his age, how could he possibly keep up? He was nowhere near as young or energetic as Raymond. Did he even know how to y those games?

    Raymond''s heart twisted with envy-so sharp it was almost bitter.

    After returning from the Jensen family''s house, Weston waspletely disillusioned with Regina and forbade her from ever setting foot in the Carmichael home again.

 Chapter 227

    Ever since Citrine auctioned off that Vitaflux at Elbert''s birthday celebration, Elbert had barely touched food or water. He''d spent days bedridden, his condition growing worse by the hour.

    With no other options, Truman Jensen and Le Jensen decided to visit the Carmichaels in person.

    But Raymond shut the door on them before they could even state their case, sending them away without a second thought. Elbert himself hadn''t bothered to put on a pleasant face, either.

    After hearing about how Elbert treated Citrine at the party, Raymond''s goodwill toward the Jensen family¡ªold friends though they were¡ªhad evaporated almost overnight.

    It went without saying: the Carmichaels had no intention of associating with the Jensens any further.

    Le and Truman hadn''t expected Raymond and Weston to be so unyielding. When they realized the family elders wouldn''t budge, they set their sights on Citrine instead.

    That evening, upon learning that Citrine was studying at the library, they hurried over and waited outside until seven o''clock, when her silhouette finally appeared beneath the streemps.

    Truman called out first, his voice carrying through the cool air. "Ms. Carmichael.¡±

    Hearing her name, Citrine had already guessed who it was. She nodded, regarding them with a polite but distant expression-anything but warm.

    After all, she''d never liked their family patriarch; it was only natural she didn''t think much of his grandchildren, either.

    Truman offered a gentle smile. "Ms. Carmichael, would you mind sitting down to talk for a moment?"

    "This is about the Vitaflux, isn''t it?" Citrine''s lips curved into a knowing smile, cutting right to the chase.

    Truman was momentarily thrown by her directness, but then he managed a smallugh. "You''re as sharp as ever, Ms. Carmichael."

    "Thank you," Citrine replied, mirroring his smile.

    But in the next instant, her expression hardened. She rejected them outright, her tone clear and final. "Unfortunately, the Vitaflux was already auctioned off. I''m afraid I can''t help you."

    She nced at her smartwatch, then offered them a courteous smile. "It''s gettingte. I should head home. Please excuse me."

    "No." Le''s face paled in an instant.

    Thinking of her grandfathernguishing in bed, she felt tears sting her eyes. "Ms. Carmichael, wait."

    Her voice trembled as she pleaded, "We know the Vitaflux has been sold, but we''re hoping you could tell us where you got it. We''ll try to buy one ourselves. If you help us, we''ll make sure you''re handsomely rewarded."

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh, incredulous. "Ms. Jensen, asking for my source right out of the gate? That''s not how things are done. Negotiation isn''t your strong suit, is it? Clearly you''ve never done business before."

    Both Truman and Le''s faces flushed with embarrassment at her words.

    Le, long used to being coddled, felt utterly humiliated.

    Truman, meanwhile, was mortified on his sister''s behalf. He shot her a warning look. "That''s enough. Be quiet."

    Anyone raised as a proper heir knew that a clear refusal meant the door was closed. No amount of pleading would change that. And yet his foolish sister was still dreaming of getting the source-asking for the moon, really.

    Le dug her nails into her palm, cheeks burning under Truman''s stern gaze, but she pressed on for Elbert''s sake.

    "Ms. Carmichael, I know my grandfather was out of line that day. I can''t ask you to forgive him. But please, we''ve been family friends for generations-can''t you help him, just this once?"

    Her eyes shone with desperate hope.

    But Citrine remained unmoved, her tone cool and even. "No, I''m afraid not. I tend to hold grudges."

 Chapter 228

    As soon as Citrine finished speaking, she didn''t give the siblings a chance to respond. She turned on her heel and walked away.

    No sooner had she left than Le and Truman erupted into a fierce argument.

    Le copsed onto the curb, looking utterly defeated. She red at Truman, voice trembling with anger. "Truman, aren''t you supposed to be so persuasive? Why didn''t you beg her just now? Oh, right¡ªit''s all about your pride, isn''t it? You''re too dignified to ask for help. Can''t you think about Grandpa for once instead of yourself?"

    Truman''s face darkened. "Le, do you have any idea how foolish you just sounded? Has that fancy school of yours-what is it, ckridge Academy- scrambled your brains? Couldn''t you see she never intended to help us in the first ce?"

    Le swiped at her tears and shot Truman a murderous look. "Don''t think I don''t know what''s going on in your head. You don''t really want to help Grandpa get the medicine, do you?"

    Truman stiffened, and his re was as sharp as a knife. "What the hell are you talking about?"

    Le suddenlyughed a brittle, bitter sound. "I knew it. All you care about is getting Grandpa''s shares. You''d never sincerely help him. Can''t you wait just a little longer? Even if Grandpa''s still alive, he''s old. How many peaceful years do you think he has left?"

    Truman''s face twisted with rage. He pped Le hard across the face. "Shut your mouth. Don''t you dare talk nonsense like that again, or you''ll regret it."

    The next day, Citrine received a call from Manley. Wanting to avoid making her ufortable, he exined the situation in advance.

    Turns out, Elbert''s son wanted to meet her-he''d asked Manley to arrange it. After a brief hesitation, Citrine agreed.

    She arrived at the Carmichael estate and immediately noticed a man sitting on the sofa-handsome, refined, with a gentle air.

    For reasons she couldn''t quite exin, Citrine felt an instinctive dislike.

    Manley greeted her and made the introductions. "Citrine, this is my friend, Phelps Jensen."

    To keep his niece at ease, Manley leaned in and whispered, "He''s Elbert''s son. He''s only here about his father. Citrine, do whatever you feel is right-don''t mind me."

    Since learning Citrine had been mistreated at the Jensen household, Manley had lost all goodwill toward them. Phelps, though, was his childhood friend-his only true friend, really. If Phelps hadn''t practically begged, Manley would never have gotten involved.

    His loyalty, after all,y firmly with his niece.

    Citrine guessed as much and nodded quietly.

    She walked over to the living room and greeted the man. "Good afternoon, Mr. Jensen."

    "I''m your Uncle Manley''s friend. Please, call me Phelps," he replied, his smile warm and gentle.

    But Citrine knew all too well: the most harmless-seeming things were often the most dangerous.

    This Phelps Jensen was definitely not as simple as he appeared.

    Despite his smile, something about him made her uneasy.

    "I''ll stick with Mr. Jensen," she replied, her tone cool and distant.

    "As you wish." Phelps didn''t seem offended. He just smiled patiently at her. "I''m here today because of my father. I''ve heard you have ess to Vitaflux. Would you be willing to sell me one dose? Price is no object. If you help me, I''ll transfer five percent of The Jensen Group''s shares to you as a thank you."

    Citrine studied the gentle-faced man in front of her and, for a moment, thought of his son. The contrast left her puzzled.

    These two were quite something-a father desperate to save his own father, and a son hoping his grandfather would die.

 Chapter 229

    Five percent of the shares? What, does he think I''m a beggar?

    Making Vitaflux is an excruciatinglyplex process. Every ingredient has to be measured with surgical precision-down to six decimal points-and each pill costs her a tremendous amount of energy and focus.

    In recent years, The Jensen Group has lost much of its former glory. Five percent of its shares aren''t even worth more than five hundred million dors at this point.

    And yet, here was the mighty head of The Jensen Group, haggling away with a metaphorical meat cleaver, shing prices like he was at a cutthroat garage sale. Citrine had never seen this kind of penny-pinching alpha male before.

    What made it almost funny was that, in Phelps''s mind, his own father''s life apparently wasn''t worth more than five percent of thepany.

    With someone so stingy, Citrine started to wonder if he was really serious about saving Elbert at all.

    She let out a softugh, her refusal crisp and certain. "Mr. Jensen, even if you gave me ten percent of the shares, I still wouldn''t be able to help you."

    Phelps''s gentle smile faltered for a split second; he almost couldn''t keep it together. Pressing his lips together, he tried again. "Ms. Carmichael, I know my father''s attitude toward you was out of line that day. I apologize on his behalf, and I hope you won''t hold it against him."

    Citrine used the same line she''d given Truman and his sister. "Mr. Jensen, I''m the kind of person who holds a grudge."

    Phelps hadn''t expected a teenager to be this hard to sway. Running out of options, he yed the friendship card. "Ms. Carmichael, could you do me this favor for the sake of all the years Uncle Manley and I have been friends?"

    At the mention of Manley, Citrine''s smile faded and her brow twitched. "Mr. Jensen, the only reason I agreed to meet with you today is out of respect for Uncle Manley. But this is something I simply can''t do. I''m sure Uncle Manley would understand¡ªand support¡ª-whatever decision I make."

    Guilt trips weren''t going to work on her.

    Citrine had always sensed that Uncle Manley valued Phelps as a friend, but it was obvious to her that Phelps didn''t feel the same way. If he truly cared about Manley, he wouldn''t be using their friendship as a bargaining chip.

    After she finished speaking, Citrine suddenly turned to Phelps and asked, seemingly out of nowhere, "Mr. Jensen, are you really friends with Uncle Manley?"

    "Of course. We grew up together,¡± Phelps replied, taken aback. He met the rity in her eyes and nodded, his tone firm.

    Citrine smiled but said nothing more.

    Phelps couldn''t shake the feeling that this kid had seen right through him. He didn''t dare linger, making a hasty farewell to Manley before leaving.

    Once Phelps had gone, Manley turned to Citrine, his voice tentative. "Citrine, are you upset with me?" Phelps had already told Manley the oue before he left, and now Manley was clearly uneasy.

    Citrine frowned thoughtfully, then answered with quiet sincerity. "Of course not. I know you just care about your rtionship with your brother. And I also know that whatever choice I make, you''d never hold it against me."

    "You trust me that much, Citrine? Aren''t you afraid I might hurt you?" Manley was surprised. Her unwavering answer softened something long frozen inside him.

    "Uncle Manley would never do that," Citrine replied with a calm, steady smile.

    She trusted Manley-maybe because he''d once helped her when she was

    overseas.

    Back then, Citrine had just escaped Mirage Cay. She saw the worst in everyone, refusing to trust a soul. With Mirage Cay''s influence looming over her, she didn''t dare reveal her extraordinary gifts or what she could do.

    She tried to survive by picking up manualbor, but doors kept mming in her face. When she''d first fled Mirage Cay, she was so thin she barely looked human. Employers either took one look at her and decided she wasn''t strong enough, or figured she wouldn''t live long and would only bring bad luck to their business.

 Chapter 230

    Citrine was penniless and on the verge of starving to death.

    By dawn the next day, her hunger was so overwhelming her stomach felt hollow, and she simply couldn''t bear it any longer. Waiting until the bakery owner was busy with other customers, she slipped a warm roll from the steaming tray when no one was looking.

    She acted quickly, but not quickly enough. The heavyset baker spotted her in an instant.

    With a furious shout, he snatched up his rolling pin and lumbered after her. Citrine was so weak from hunger, she barely made it a few yards before he caught her by the cor.

    The baker''s face was red with rage as he shook her roughly. "You little thief! Stealing from me, huh? I ought to teach you a lesson."

    "Filthy beggar, you think you can steal my bread and get away with it? I''ll make you regret it!"

    His fists were as hard as iron, mming down on her again and again. He didn''t hold back. In no time, Citrine''s face was battered and bruised. She copsed on the ground, blood pooling beneath her, but even then, she clung to the roll she''d taken, refusing to let go.

    Just as Citrine thought she might die right there on the bakery floor, Manley appeared. He sat calmly in his wheelchair at the end of the alley, nodding to the bodyguard at his side. In a sh, the guard stepped forward and blocked the baker''s next blow.

    "That''s enough. We''ll pay for what she took," the bodyguard said, pulling a few crisp bills from his pocket and handing them to the baker.

    The baker, seeing how much he was offered, finally relented and stormed back inside, grumbling under his breath.

    By now, Citrine was barely conscious.

    Manley rolled his chair closer, eyeing the dirty, battered girl with a trace of distaste.

    He clicked his tongue. "Little stray, how long have you been starving out here?¡±

    Citrine stared up at him, wanting to speak, but as soon as she opened her mouth, blood spilled from her lips.

    Sensing something was wrong, Manley immediately called over his medical team, who rushed to her side to begin treatment.

    Seeing the crowd swarm around her, Citrine''s eyes shed with panic. She tensed like a cornered animal, ring fiercely at everyone.

    She pushed herself backward with trembling hands, inching away from the strangers. Then, with slow, painful effort, she pulled the squashed, filthy roll from inside her coat.

    The roll was dirty, misshapen, but Citrine didn''t care; in front of everyone, she crammed it desperately into her mouth, chewing rapidly in hopes of filling the aching emptiness inside her. But her throat refused to cooperate. After just a couple of bites, she began to cough up mouthfuls of blood, the soggy bread spilling out with it.

    She kept trying-stuffing, chewing, choking, and spitting it all back out. No matter what she did, she couldn''t swallow a single bite.

    Watching her, Manley felt a strange pang in his chest. For the first time in his life, he tried to soften his tone. "Hey, kid. No one''s here to take your food. They just want to help with your injuries, alright?"

    As he spoke, he nodded to his medical team to step back, leaving only one nurse nearby.

    Even so, the wariness in Citrine''s eyes didn''t fade.

    Before Manley could think of what to say next, Citrine suddenly fainted.

    When she woke again, she was lying in a clean room with an IV in her arm.

    Her eyes darted around in rm, but when she saw her wounds were neatly bandaged, her panic eased a little.

    At least, for now, she was safe.

    Not long after, the door swung open and a boy stepped inside. It was Travis Carmichael.

 Chapter 231

    "Hey, you''re awake!" Travis''s face lit up with relief as Citrine opened her eyes.

    "Who are you?" she asked, blinking up at the unfamiliar face, her curiosity in.

    Travis smiled wider at the sound of her voice. "I''m the son of the man in the wheelchair you saw earlier. You can call me Brother Travis."

    Wheelchair?

    Suddenly, the memories from earlier flooded back. That man he must have been the one who saved her.

    Citrine''s eyes darted around, then she looked up at Travis and gave him her sweetest, most innocent smile. "Brother Travis, could you tell me where am I right now?"

    She was convinced her helpless look would tug at anyone''s heartstrings. What she didn''t realize, though, was that she still looked every bit the lost street kid Travis and his father had found: her face smudged with dirt, her clothes ragged, hair a tangled mess. No amount of wide-eyed innocence could hide that.

    But Travis didn''t seem to mind at all. He answered her seriously, "You were hurt pretty badly. We''re at the hospital now."

    His kindness made Citrine believe her act was working, so she pressed on. "Brother Travis, where did your dad go?"

    Without missing a beat, Travis replied, "He had an appointment with a doctor to check on his leg. He said he''de by to see youter."

    Citrine nodded quietly, falling silent.

    After a moment, Travis asked gently, "So, where''s your family? Why were you all alone out there?"

    "I don''t have any family." The thought of Sawyer Iverson, so far away back in her home country, made her eyes sting with tears. She shook her head, still wary despite the warmth Travis offered.

    Travis''s heart ached for her¡ªbut at the same time, he couldn''t help feeling a little happy. "Well, if you''d like, you cane home with me. I''ll be your big brother- nobody will ever mess with you again, I promise." He thumped his chest with pride.

    Citrine curved her lips into a small smile, pretending to be delighted. "Alright. I''ve always wanted an older brother."

    But when Travis wasn''t looking, her smile faded as quickly as it hade. After years on Mirage Cay, fear had settled deep in her bones. Travis seemed kind, but she just couldn''t let her guard down.

    Travis, for his part, had always dreamed of having a little sister. It didn''t matter to him that Citrine looked like a stray; the moment he saw her, he felt a connection. Hearing her agree toe home with him filled him with a joy he''d never known.

    That day, Travis brought her a pile of snacks and taught her how to y video games-even gave her his favorite console, something he''d never shared with anyone before.

    Later that afternoon, after his checkup, Manley stopped by the hospital room. He saw the two of themughing and ying together and simply watched from the doorway, not wanting to interrupt.

    It was the happiest day Citrine had known in a long time. If not for the scars of Mirage Cay-constant reminders of how cruel people could be-she might have let herself get swept away by this brief moment of joy.

    That night, after Travis left, Manley wheeled himself up to Citrine''s bedside and spoke quietly. "Come back to my country with me. I can adopt you, if you''d like."

    Go back with him?

    For a moment, Citrine felt a pang of longing. But just as quickly, she pushed it aside. What reason did he have to help her? They were strangers.

    She looked at the man in the wheelchair and nodded, her expression unchanged. "Sure."

    But that very night, she climbed out the window and slipped away from the hospital, taking the snacks and game console Travis had given her.

    Manley and Travis had saved her life-had shown her kindness and warmth when she needed it most. She would never forget that, and she truly wanted to believe in them. But trust was a luxury she couldn''t afford.

    For days afterward, Citrine locked herself in her room as soon as she got home. She barely left except to eat, and she wouldn''t even set foot in the game room she''d once loved so much.

 Chapter 232

    Ever since returning from Elbert''s birthday celebration, she''d been in this state for days.

    At first, Raymond simply assumed she was in a bad mood, and nned to check in when the moment felt right.

    That evening, after work, he came home intending to talk to his daughter, only for the housekeeper to inform him she was in the bath.

    Raymond didn''t think much of it and settled downstairs to wait.

    But two hours passed, and Citrine still hadn''te out. A creeping sense of unease finally took hold.

    Surely nothing could have happened in all that time.

    Raymond''s nerves were frayed. His expression darkened as he rushed upstairs. He knocked on the bathroom door, his voice taut with anxiety. "Citrine? Are you alright in there?"

    He called her name again and again. No answer.

    Panic rising, Raymond mmed his shoulder into the door and burst inside-only to be met with a nightmare.

    The water in the tub was stained crimson. Citriney motionless, her eyes closed, one hand draped limply over the edge as blood dripped steadily to the floor.

    Raymond didn''t hesitate for a second. He lifted her out of the tub, heart pounding in terror.

    Her limbs were icy cold. The pain that stabbed through Raymond was almost physical.

    Citrine''s condition was critical. At the hospital, she was rushed straight into emergency surgery.

    Raymond stood outside the operating room, chilled to the bone. He couldn''t bear to think what he would do if Citrine didn''t make it.

    The image of the bullet wound he''d glimpsed-just a centimeter from her heart- tormented him. Self-loathing twisted inside: how could he call himself a father when he hadn''t even known his daughter had been shot?

    He pped himself hard, twice, putting all his strength into it.

    An hour went by. The operating room door remained closed.

    By then, Weston, Manley Travis, and Salome Carmichael had all arrived at the hospital. The moment they heard Citrine was hurt, they dropped everything and rushed over.

    Manley red at Raymond, his eyes cold and sharp under the harsh hospital lights. "How could you let this happen?" he spat. "She was fine until you got your hands on her. If you can''t be a proper father, let me take her. I''ll raise her myself."

    Raymond''s frustration had been simmering all night. Manley''s words made him snap.

    He strode over, hauled Manley out of his wheelchair, and threw him to the ground, kicking him hard.

    "She''s been a wreck ever since she got back from seeing you! Maybe you should be the one answering questions-what did you do to her?" Raymond''s voice was raw, his eyes wild with grief and rage.

    Manley was momentarily stunned, too shocked to fight back, taking blow after blow before finally stammering, "All I did was let her meet with Phelps that day. I never thought-"

    Weston stood nearby, jaw clenched, watching the red glow of the operating room sign. Silently, he prayed for his granddaughter to pull through.

    Seeing his sons brawling like children, his patience snapped. He strode over and kicked each of them, hard. "Enough! Both of you. Citrine''s still in there¡ªif you want to kill each other, wait until she''s safe."

    Salome, eyes rimmed red, looked between her brothers and pleaded, "He''s right. Right now, what matters is that Citrinees out of there alive."

 Chapter 233

    Several hourster, the doors to the emergency room finally swung open.

    "Doctor, how''s my daughter?" Raymond rushed forward, grabbing the doctor by the cor, his voice trembling with emotion.

    "Calm down, calm down," the male doctor said quickly, startled by Raymond''s sudden outburst. ¡°You got her here just in time, and the way you bandaged her wrist beforehand really helped. She''s out of danger now, but she''ll need to stay in the hospital for a few days under observation."

    "Thank God," Raymond breathed out, finally letting go of the doctor. The Carmichaels, who had been holding their collective breath, finally rxed.

    When everyone went in to see Citrine in her room, Raymond hung back and sought out the doctor alone.

    "How long has my daughter had that wound near her heart?" Raymond asked, his voice grave as he locked eyes with the physician.

    The doctor hesitated for a split second, recalling the partially infected scar by the girl''s heart. "You mean the gunshot wound about an inch from her heart? Judging by the scar tissue, it''s at least three or four years old. It was infected, but we''ve

    cleaned it up."

    He couldn''t help remarking, "Your daughter is incredibly lucky-the bullet almost went straight through her."

    Raymond''s expression darkened, but he said nothing more.

    Worried that Citrine might wake and not see him, he hurried back to her hospital

    room.

    Citriney still on the bed, her face ghostly pale, her body frail and thin-she looked as though she''d lost years of her life in just a few days.

    Raymond gazed at his daughter''s wasted little face, his heart aching so badly it hurt to breathe. He swore silently that once she was out of the hospital, he''d make sure to nurse her back to full health, no matter what it took.

    Here, the doctors could heal the wounds on her body, but no one could mend the pain inside her heart. The thought of nearly losing his daughter chilled Raymond to the bone.

    After a moment''s hesitation, he pulled out his phone and called Yates Cooper, determined to let him know what had happened.

    Less than twenty minutester, Yates stormed into the hospital.

    He didn''t say a word¡ªhe just marched up to Raymond and punched him hard across the jaw.

    Yates grabbed Raymond by the cor, voice hoarse with anger. "Raymond, what the hell did your family do to her? Didn''t I tell you if the Carmichaels ever hurt her, I''d never forgive you? Or did you think I was just blowing smoke?"

    Raymond didn''t defend himself. He took the punch without a word.

    Only after Yates had vented his rage did Raymond finally speak, voice low and heavy. "I''m sorry. I didn''t take good enough care of Citrine."

    Yates had lost his temper, but as the anger ebbed, he turned to face the Carmichael family and exined Citrine''s condition in detail.

    "Something must have happened recently to remind her of the past. Citrine''s depression isn''t a mild case¡ªit''s severe, with suicidal tendencies. When her mood crashes, she can''t control the urge to hurt herself. She can''t help it, and neither can anyone else."

    Manley, his son, and Salome all stood there, stunned into silence.

    It was only today that the three of them learned Citrine suffered from depression, and to such a dangerous degree.

    Before this, the girl had always seemed perfectly normal around them-cheerful,

    even.

    Salome thought back to all the times her niece had been there for her, helping with family matters, worrying over her divorce, trying to lift her spirits. Now, knowing the pain Citrine had been hiding, Salome felt a sharp stab of guilt.

    What kind of aunt had she been, so wrapped up in her own world that she hadn''t even noticed her niece was suffering? She hadn''t known Citrine was sick. She hadn''t seen the signs. And worst of all, she hadn''t been there when Citrine needed her most.

 Chapter 234

    Meanwhile, Manley and Travis looked deeply unsettled, their faces drawn with worry.

    Yates turned to the Carmichaels, his tone grave. "Think back-has anything unusual happened to Citrely? Has she done anything out of the ordinary? If we start there, maybe we''ll find a clue."

    Weston considered for a moment, then spoke first. "Citrine came with me to

    Elbert''s birthday party recently. At the party, Elbert wasn''t exactly kind to her..." As Weston spoke, he recounted the harsh words Elbert had directed at Citrine, along with the gossip and whispered judgments from other guests.

    "Do you think something someone said could have upset her?" he asked Yates earnestly.

    Yates listened and shook his head with certainty. "No. Thosements were petty but harmless. They wouldn''t have hurt Citrine."

    Raymond took his turn, recounting in detail how Phelps and some of the younger Jensen family members hade looking for Citrine.

    Again, Yates shook his head.

    A heavy silence fell. Then, suddenly, Weston''s eyes lit up. "Wait-on Regina''s insistence, Citrine yed a piano piece at the party that night."

    The moment Weston spoke, both Yates and Raymond''s expressions changed.

    Yates''s mind shed back to their time abroad. His face grew serious. After a moment''s pause, he spoke. "When we were overseas, someone sent Citrine several pianos. Each time she saw them, she''dpletely lose control-once, she even smashed them to pieces. She absolutely hates the piano. She can''t even bear to look at one, let alone y. How could you let her near it?"

    "I''m sorry. I should''ve taken better care of her," Raymond said, his face ashen.

    A memory surfaced-of the piano teacher in Citrine''s dreams, someone with sinister intentions. Suddenly, everything made sense.

    Weston was stunned. He hadn''t realized this was the reason. Guilt gnawed at him. If only he''d stopped her from ying that day, maybe none of this would have happened.

    Seeing the Carmichaels all lost in remorse, Yates simply urged them, "You absolutely can''t let her be triggered again."

    Though this was Yates''s first time meeting Citrine''s biological family, he could sense how much they cared. Their concern was genuine, their love unmistakable.

    He felt reassured and continued, "Citrine doesn''t want to ept my hypnotherapy. But you''re her family. With your care, maybe she''ll slowly heal from the past and stop hurting herself."

    Raymond looked down at his daughter''s pale face, his voice steady with resolve. "Don''t worry. I''ll take good care of Citrine."

    All day, the Carmichaels stayed by Citrine''s side, never leaving her for a moment and praying that she''d wake soon.

    Finally, as night fell, Citrine began to stir.

    "What happened to me?" she murmured, trying to sit up.

    Raymond was at her side in an instant, gently pressing her back down. His voice was softer than she''d ever heard it. "Citrine, you need to rest now. Please, just lie back and take it easy."

    She looked at him, confused by the concern in his eyes. "What happened? Why am I in a hospital?"

    Thest thing she remembered was stepping into the shower. Everything after that was a nk.

    It was as if her memory had been wiped clean. Raymond nced at Yates, startled.

    Yates simply gave him a subtle look, silently urging him not to press further. Raymond understood the message and said nothing more.

 Chapter 235

    Citrine had no memory of what had happened to her. Raymond, worried that the truth might upset her even more, stayed quiet about the details. When she turned to him with a question, he immediately steered the conversation away.

    "You must be starving, Citrine," he said, forcing a smile. "I had someone pick up that nourishing soup you like on Main Street. Why don''t you have a bit?"

    As he spoke, Raymond thoughtfully unfolded the tray table and arranged the food

    in front of her, making sure everything was within easy reach.

    Once he''d finished, he ushered everyone else out of the hospital room. He lingered for a moment, then quietly slipped out himself.

    Out in the hallway, the Carmichaels turned their attention to Dr. Yates.

    Raymond lowered his voice, anxiety tightening his words. "What''s going on, Yates? Why can''t Citrine remember anything?"

    Yates let out a heavy sigh, resignation etched on his face. "Her condition has gotten much worse, Raymond. Every time she loses control, she ends up hurting herself. And afterwards, she forgets it ever happened."

    As he spoke, his expression grew grim. "At first, she wasn''t as hard on herself, but as things have progressed, she''s be more and more violent. The worst part is, she never remembers doing it, so she could be in danger at any time."

    He looked at them all, voice grave. "You have to keep a close eye on her. Citrine''s in a very serious state right now. Her emotions have to be watched every minute."

    Inside the room, once everyone had left, Citrine didn''t touch the food. Instead, she quietly lifted her left hand and began to carefully unwind the bandages from her wrist,yer byyer.

    The deep, angry red of the wound stood out starkly against her pale skin.

    She''d hurt herself again.

    Citrine pressed her lips together, her face expressionless as she stared at the gash. It was worse than before-she''d gone even deeper this time.

    If this kept up, it was only a matter of time before she managed to actually kill herself.

    She scoffed quietly, eyes fixed on her wrist. "Monster," she muttered.

    That''s what she was a monster through and through.

    No wonder no one loved her. Who could ever love someone who might destroy herself at any moment?

    But before she went, she''d make sure everyone who had ever hurt her would pay. She''d drag everyst one of them down with her.

    She wasn''t nearly finished yet.

    A twisted smile curled on her lips, a wild gleam flickering in her eyes.

    The soup on the tray had gone cold. Citrine hadn''t touched a single bite. When the Carmichaels returned a littleter, this was the sight that greeted them.

    The food sat untouched on the table, not a spoonful missing. Citriney curled on her side, arm limp across the bed, her eyes vacant and distant-so quiet, it was almost eerie.

    They had never seen her like this before.

    No matter the situation, Citrine had always faced the world with effortless

    confidence, never letting anyone see her shaken or unsure.

    Now, huddled on the hospital bed in utter silence, she looked so much like a wounded creature that it made their hearts ache.

    Watching her, the Carmichaels felt as if something vital had been ripped from their chests.

    Raymond would have preferred her sharp tongue and stubborn defiance to the fragile girl before him.

    "Citrine, is it the soup? You don''t like it anymore?" he asked gently, reaching to clear away the now-cold meal. As he did, he caught sight of the white bandage lying crumpled on the floor-and then noticed her bloodied wrist, crimson soaking through the sheets.

    "Citrine, why did you take off your bandage?" Raymond''s voice cracked with rm.

    He immediately called for the nurse, who rushed in to rewrap her wound.

    Through it all, Citrine said nothing, quietly cooperating, her silence only making Raymond''s heart ache more.

    Once her wrist was tended to, Raymond asked carefully, "Citrine, is there anything you''d like to eat? I''ll get you whatever you want."

    She didn''t move, just turned away from him, her voice t. "I''m not hungry."

    Raymond started to protest, but Citrine cut him off. "Please go. I''m tired. I want to rest."

 Chapter 236

    Raymond and the Carmichael family exchanged brief nces but said nothing more. Without another word, they left the hospital room.

    Once outside, the Carmichaels'' faces were clouded with worry-none of them looked pleased, and tension hung in the air.

    Raymond cast a nce at Manley, then suddenly spoke up. "Manley, I don''t know what you''re ying at, but from now on I want you to stay away from my daughter."

    "And why should I?" Manley shot back, lifting his eyes defiantly.

    "Because I''m Citrine''s father," Raymond replied coldly, his voice edged with warning.

    A humorlessugh escaped Manley as his hands balled into fists. "Raymond, I''m her Uncle Manley. I have every right to see her. You don''t get to decide that for me."

    There was no way he''d keep his distance from Citrine. Not now, not ever.

    Raymond''s eyes hardened. "If it weren''t for Citrine, I would''ve warned you long ago. I don''t care what your intentions are with my daughter, but I won''t allow even a hint of danger near her."

    Before Citrine came into his life, Raymond hadn''t cared much about Manley. But with her there, Manley suddenly seemed like a threat he couldn''t ignore.

    He still remembered, clear as day, what Manley had said to him years ago after the ident. The memory sent a chill down his spine.

    Back then, he and Manley had fought viciously for control of the Carmichael Group. The rivalry was ruthless, and neither had nned to back down.

    It wasn''t until Manley''s car ident¡ªan ident that left him unable to walk-

    that the battle for session finally ended, if only on the surface.

    After the ident, Manley rarely left the house. Rumor had it he''d never

    recovered, that he''d lost his drive along with his mobility. But Raymond knew

    better. Even after losing the use of his legs, Manley never gave up his ambition for the Carmichael legacy.

    He worked in secret, building up his own sphere of influence. His efforts to undermine the Carmichael Group continued, relentless as ever.

    The upper crust whispered that Raymond himself had orchestrated the ident, desperate to eliminate his fiercest rival. Manley certainly believed it.

    There was one time, both of them returned to the old family estate. Manley had been drinking heavily that night, his mood dark and unpredictable.

    Raymond hadn''t nned on dealing with a drunken Manley, but as he headed back to his room, Manley intercepted him on the pitch-ck staircase, blocking his way.

    In the narrow, shadowed passage, Manley red at him like a venomous snake. In a low, deliberate voice, he said, "Raymond, just wait. One day, I''ll destroy what you care about most-and you''ll know what it means to wish you were dead."

    Raymond hadn''t thought much of Manley''s threats at the time. But after Citrine came into his life-and especially after what had just happened to her-he couldn''t ignore them anymore.

    Now, Raymond was like a mad dog, ready tosh out at anyone who came too close. Manley, for his part, didn''t bother arguing. He simply turned to leave, tossing onest remark over his shoulder.

    "I''m not going to stay away from Citrine. That''s never going to happen."

    Citrine wanted peace and quiet; she didn''t want visitors. That night, Raymond kept vigil outside her hospital room, calling her name every so often just to make sure she was okay. He spent the whole night like that, not sleeping for a moment.

    The next morning, he called her name several times but got no response. Panic rose in his chest as he rushed into the room.

    Only when he saw Citrine was simply asleep did Raymond finally let out a breath of relief.

    Noticing the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead, he went to the bathroom, dampened a towel, and brought it back to wipe her face.

    The moment he left the room, Citrine''s eyes fluttered open-clear, alert, and entirely awake.

    She realized Raymond must have kept watch all night. Wanting to test whether he truly cared, she''d pretended not to hear him when he called from the hallway.

    If he found out, he''d probably think she was being difficult on purpose.

    The thought made her sigh softly as she closed her eyes again.

    A few minutester, she felt something warm and damp pressed gently against

    her forehead, making her heart jolt with surprise.

    Did he really not see her as a monster?

 Chapter 237

    Citriney perfectly still, eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. She could feel Raymond''s gentle hand carefully wiping her face, each stroke so light it tickled, making her expression shift ever so slightly despite her efforts.

    Eventually, she couldn''t keep up the act. With a reluctant sigh, she slowly opened

    her eyes.

    "Raymond, stop it. That tickles," she said, staring straight at him, her brow

    furrowing.

    Raymond smiled, putting the washcloth aside before settling softly on the edge of the hospital bed. "So you''re finally awake."

    "I wasn''t sleeping," Citrine replied coolly, her gaze unreadable.

    She searched Raymond''s eyes, looking for any trace of irritation or

    disappointment. There was none. Instead, all she saw was warmth and a quiet fondness.

    Raymond''s voice was gentle. "Are you tired? Do you want to rest a little more?"

    He wasn''t upset. He didn''t even ask why she hadn''t answered him, even though she''d clearly been awake.

    "You''re not mad? I ignored you," Citrine asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.

    Raymond chuckled. "There''s nothing you could do that would make me angry." In truth, he''d known she was faking from the moment he came in, but he''d yed along anyway.

    "Why?" Citrine''s confusion was genuine.

    "Because I''m your father," Raymond said, his tone impossibly gentle as he looked at his innocent little girl. "A father never gets mad at his own child."

    Suddenly, Citrine thought of Sawyer-how he had never once lost his temper with Jete Iverson.

    Raymond didn''t notice her drifting off for a moment. Instead, something else caught his eye: the bandage on her wrist hade loose.

    He reached out, intending to tighten it, but the moment his fingers brushed her skin, Citrine yanked her hand back, eyeing him with a wary, almost frightened look.

    "What are you doing?" Her voice trembled slightly, as if she''d been startled.

    Their eyes met-hers clear, yet full of distrust.

    Raymond froze, then exined softly, "Your bandage is loose. I just wanted to fix it."

    "You''re not afraid of me?" Citrine''s voice was t, emotionless.

    "Yates probably never told you," she continued, "but when I have an episode, I don''t just hurt myself-I can hurt others, too."

    It was true; Yates hadn''t mentioned that. Raymond knew it was to protect her, but even if he had known, it wouldn''t have changed anything.

    Seeing his silence, Citrine''s lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile. "When I was abroad, I lost control once and stabbed a ssmate in the thigh. The look in her eyes... it was like she was staring straight at a monster."

    She let the words hang in the air, then suddenly broke into an odd, unsettling smile.

    "Citrine..." Raymond''s heart twisted at the sight of such a fragile, innocent face twisted into something so haunted.

    He wanted to say something, anything, but Citrine turned away, her voice cold as ice. "Just go. When I''m discharged, I''ll leave the Carmichael family. I''ll pay you back for everything you''ve spent on me while I was here."

    "We don''t owe each other anything."

    Raymond stared at her trembling back, feeling as if someone had driven a knife straight through his chest. "I''m your father. The Carmichael family will always be your home."

    Meanwhile, just outside the door, several people crowded around, ears pressed against the wood, straining to catch every word.

    Whatever Travis overheard made his face go pale. "Did Citrine just say she was leaving the Carmichael family?"

    "Maybe Raymond''s trying to kick her out behind our backs!" Manley piped up, a flicker of hope in his voice.

    "How could Uncle do something like that?" another whispered, their tone full of disbelief.

 Chapter 238

    At that moment, Weston couldn''t take it anymore. He shoved the door open and strode inside.

    His face was stern as he nted himself firmly in the room, voice booming with authority. "I''d like to see anyone try to drive my granddaughter out of the Carmichael family. If anyone dares, I''ll have their hide. Raymond, if you so much as think about sending Citrine away, you can pack your own bags and get out."

    Raymond: "..."

    Citrine: "..."

    Weston ignored them both and walked straight to his granddaughter, his voice softening. "Citrine, don''t worry. As long as I''m here, the Carmichael family is your home. If anyone tries to throw you out, they''ll be the one leaving instead." As he spoke, his sharp gaze swept around the room, finallynding on Raymond with a pointed re.

    Innocent. Completely innocent.

    Raymond tried to exin, "I didn''t-" but before he could finish, Manley jumped in. "Dad, why don''t we just have Citrine registered under my name? I''ll treat her like my own daughter-and when the timees, she can inherit all my assets."

    Raymond almost burst outughing in disbelief. These two really had no shame. The son was always clinging to Citrine, and now the father wanted to snatch her away and make her his daughter on paper.

    Fixing Manley with a frosty stare, Raymond said coldly, "Don''t even think about it. Citrine is my daughter. Manley, I suggest you focus on your own son, not on trying to steal away my daughter."

    Manley shot a disdainful nce at Travis, his expression full of contempt.

    He looked back at Raymond, making a show of bargaining. "How about this: I trade my son for your daughter?¡±

    Raymond didn''t even spare Travis a look. He replied with utter disdain, ¡°Who would want to trade with you? Your son''s a walking disaster. No one would take him, not even for free."

    : "..."

    Travis: "

    Fine, fine. He was cheap. He was everyone''s least favorite, absolutely unwanted -a total clown. Got it.

    It finally dawned on him: in this family, only his little sister genuinely cared about him.

    Travis turned to his sister, his face sincere. "Citrine, wherever you go, I''ll go. I''ve saved up a bit-I can take care of you."

    Suddenly, Manley burst outughing, clearly amused by something. He scoffed, "With your pocket change? You can barely support yourself, let alone Citrine."

    No one knew better than Manley how little spending money Travis ever had.

    Travis: "..." Was it his fault his allowance was a joke? Manley-stingy as ever- only ever gave him the bare minimum, and now he had the nerve to mock him for it.

    Seeing a chance to finally get a word in, Salome piped up, "I''ve got money, sweetie! Why don''t youe live with your aunt? I''ll take care of you."

    Citrine looked around at the crowd, nerves rattled, but as their bickering went on, the cloud in her eyes seemed to slowly lift.

    Weston nced at the lot of them, lips twitching in exasperation. He could hardly bear to watch. Did these people really think they could win Citrine over with just empty talk? They had a lot to learn about actually giving her what she wanted.

    Now it was his turn to shine.

    Looking at his granddaughter, Weston had already made up his mind. He did his best to look even more kindly than usual. "Citrine, since your father wants to send you away, you''lle live with Grandpa. I promise, no one will ever make you leave."

    Worried that Citrine might hesitate, Weston sweetened the deal. "Just the other day, I had a whole game room built for you, right next to the old house. It''s almost ready-should be finished soon."

    Citrine blinked at him, eyes lighting up in surprise. But when she nced at Raymond, she hesitated. Instead of epting, she spoke up for him. "Raymond didn''t send me away. I decided to leave on my own."

    The entire room fell silent.

    So after all that, it was just a misunderstanding.

    And here they thought they''d finally found a chance to whisk her away.

 Chapter 239

    Ever since The Iverson Group became CICI Media Co., Aline and Jete had been quietly shuffling their assets, moving money from one ount to another with increasing frequency. All the while, they kept Sawyer in the dark, and even went behind his back to reconnect with Dick Glenwood-a man they hadn''t spoken to in years.

    Dick, in his early days, had been a piano teacher. But after a falling out with Sawyer, he was sent overseas, where he tried his hand at business. A few years back, he''d gotten into cosmetic ventures,unching one project after another, but all of them flopped. He ended up drowning in debt. Strangely, not long after, someone paid off everything he owed, and the inte was scrubbed clean of any negative press about him. Dick made hiseback in the music industry abroad, and soon gained a reputation as a piano mogul.

    The moment word reached him that the Iverson family had copsed, Dick flew home.

    Now, Dick strolled through the most luxurious mall in Havencrest, one arm draped around Aline, the other around Jete, the three of them basking in the store''s golden lighting as he helped them pick out jewelry.

    He looked down at his daughter, his tone gentle and indulgent. "Jete, see anything you like? Just say the word, and I''ll buy it for you."

    "Thank you, Daddy," Jete replied, shing him a sugary smile.

    Her gaze was glued to the sparkling jewels behind the ss disys. She felt as if she''de back to life. Ever since the Iverson bankruptcy, Sawyer had forced her to sell everyst luxury dress, designer bag, and piece of jewelry, depositing the cash into her ount and forbidding her from spending a penny. It had been ages since she''d enjoyed the thrill of shopping for something extravagant.

    Sawyer, that useless fool, only ever made her suffer. Dad Glenwood, on the other hand he was her real father, and thank goodness for that. If not for him, who knew what miserable life awaited her?

    Now, with the promise of bing the Glenwood heiress and living in luxury once again, Jete could hardly contain her excitement.

    She really was born lucky.

    Dick ruffled her hair affectionately, then turned to Aline, pulling a tinum credit card from his wallet and handing it to her. "And you-pick out whatever you want. I''ve got more than enough. I''ll take care of you."

    Aline epted the card with sparkling eyes, nestling into Dick''s side as she cooed, "Thank you, darling. You''re wonderful."

    Dick was the very picture of male pride, a man who relished being needed. Seeing Aline so sweet and clingy fed his ego immensely. That day, on a whim, he transferred several waterfront condos into their names.

    That evening, after avish dinner with Dick, Aline and Jete lugged armfuls of shopping bags back home.

    Afraid Sawyer might hear them, they tiptoed inside, barely making a sound, and didn''t even dare turn on the lights-groping their way through the darkness toward the stairs.

    They had just set foot on the first step when suddenly, the living room lights snapped on.

    Aline and Jete shrieked, hearts pounding as they spun around.

    At the top of the stairs stood Sawyer, dressed in casual clothes, staring down at them.

    Jete''s eyes went wide. "Dad..."

    Aline''s voice quivered. "Honey..."

    "Where have you two been?" Sawyer''s face was expressionless, but his voice was ice-cold as he fixed his gaze on them.

    Aline gripped her shopping bags, guilt flickering across her face. She forced herself to look up, summoning her courage. "I took Jete to the mall. We were just browsing, and... well, we ended up buying some clothes and jewelry."

    Jete''s heart hammered in her chest, but she managed a nervous nod. "That''s right, Dad."

    Sawyer''s brow furrowed.

    He used to think he had the most refined wife and the sweetest, most obedient daughter in the world.

 Chapter 240

    Given the Iverson family''s current predicament¡ªwith his father still lying in a hospital bed, waiting for money-Sawyer couldn''t believe the others were out there splurging like money grew on trees.

    It was sheer irresponsibility.

    Rubbing his forehead, Sawyer spoke wearily. "Didn''t I say we can''t keep spending like this? Take it all back tomorrow. We have a lot of expenses ahead, and we can''t waste a single penny."

    The money hadn''t evene out of her pocket. Aline cursed Sawyer under her breath, calling him useless.

    She scowled, her voice full of resentment. "Sawyer, my daughter and I haven''t bought ourselves new clothes or essories in ages."

    Jete chimed in, equally unwilling. "That''s right, Dad. I have to wear the same uniform every day at school. My ssmates allugh and say we''re broke and I don''t have anything decent to wear."

    Besides, her own father had bought her these things. Thest thing she wanted was to return them.

    The sounds from the living room drifted upstairs, drawing Norton and Clifford Iverson down.

    "What''s going on down here? Why all the noise?" Norton asked, frowning.

    Clifford''s eyes darted briefly to the armfuls of shopping bags clutched by Aline and Jete, and he quickly put two and two together.

    He didn''t see what the fuss was about. Instead, he looked at Sawyer, exasperation in on his face. "So what if Aunt Aline and Jete bought a few things? Dad, you''re not seriously angry over this, are you? That''s just petty."

    "Enough!" Sawyer''s eyes shed with anger as he red at Clifford, clearly at the end of his rope.

    His tone was icy. "Do you not understand what''s happening to this family right now? Your grandfather is still in the hospital and needs money. You and Jete are both heading to college soon; that takes money, too. The Iversons aren''t who we used to be. You all need to stop spending like we''re still living the high life."

    Clifford just shrugged it off, waving his hand dismissively. "Dad, you''re blowing this out of proportion. Even if the Iversons go bankrupt, my brother and I will be earning soon. With us around, this family''s not going to end up destitute. There''s no need for Aunt Aline and Jete to suffer."

    Suffer?

    Sawyer frowned.

    Sure, the family had gone bankrupt, but once their assets were liquidated, it was still a hefty sum. They couldn''t spend recklessly anymore, but even so, they''d still be far better off than most people. "Suffering" hardly seemed the right word. Compared to when he first started out-back when things were so much tougher ¡ªthey were still living in luxury. Back then, Citrine had stuck by his side through every hardship, yet never onceined.

    Thinking of Citrine left a bitter taste in Sawyer''s mouth.

    If only Citrine were here now, she would have understood him.

    That night, Sawyer ultimately said nothing more about returning the clothes and jewelry.

    The next day, the hospital called, demanding payment for the surgery.

    Sawyer had barely answered the phone when the voice on the other end burst out, impatient and rude.

    "Mr. Iverson, your father''s already been moved from the private suite to a standard room. Please settle his surgery and hospital bills immediately. Otherwise, we''ll have no choice but to discharge him today," the hospital staffer snapped.

    Sawyer''s temper red. "I''ll pay the bill as soon as I can, but how could you just move my father out of the private room without asking?"

    At the sound of his protest, the person on the line suddenly sneered. "Mr. Iverson, stop pretending you''re still some big shot. Are you even good for the money? If you hadn''t once been worth millions, our hospital wouldn''t have bothered taking in a burden like your father in the first ce. That old man''s a pain to deal with¡ª honestly, you should juste pick him up."

    Sawyer''s face was red with anger.

    He opened his mouth to reply, but the caller hung up before he could say a word.

    "Heartless bastards," Sawyer muttered, furiously throwing his phone to the floor.

 Chapter 241

    That day, Sawyer went straight to the hospital where Holbrook was staying.

    He searched every corner of the VIP ward Holbrook used to upy, but found no sign of him. In the end, Sawyer discovered Holbrook lying alone on a makeshift cot in a hallway of the general ward.

    Holbrook looked utterly abandoned, stretched out on that narrow hospital bed in the corridor. He kept calling out for water, but none of the nurses bustling past paid him the slightest attention.

    Sawyer''s eyes burned with anger and something dangerously close to tears. Without thinking, he grabbed a male nurse by the cor and mmed him against the wall.

    "Can''t you see?" Sawyer ground out through clenched teeth. "My father''s thirsty- he''s been asking for water. Are you all deaf or just heartless?"

    "You call yourself a nurse? Where''s your sense of basic decency?" Sawyer''s voice was shaking with fury. "What''s your name and ID? I''m going to report you." He dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed the hospital director''s number.

    But no one picked up.

    A sick realization crept over Sawyer''s face; he could guess what was happening.

    The male nurse just snorted, a mocking smile curling his lip. "The Iverson family''s bankrupt. What are you getting all high and mighty for? You still think you''re Mr. Iverson?" He sneered, straightening his wrinkled uniform after shoving Sawyer''s hand away. "Go ahead, try reporting me. See if the director cares to bother with you. You want special treatment for your decrepit old man? Dream on. If you want service, you''d better be ready to pay for it. Got any money left?"

    Sawyer''s face darkened, but he didn''t waste any more words. He strode away, filled a cup with water from the nearest dispenser, and gently helped his father drink.

    Afterwards, he went to the payment office, paid off Holbrook''s surgery and hospital bills, and¡ªstill seething-arranged to transfer his father to a regr room in another hospital.

    Sawyer bought a folding cot and set it up beside Holbrook''s bed, settling in to stay and care for him himself.

    Half a month passed. Not a single member of the Iverson family came to see Holbrook.

    Holbrook knew his own condition, and now, more than ever, he longed for his grandchildren. But not one of them showed up.

    The realization stung. He seemed to age years in those two weeks, his voice thin and weary when he turned to his son and asked, "Sawyer... do you think Aline and Jete are ashamed of me now?"

    Sawyer froze, caught off guard. The truth was, Aline had tly refused toe to the hospital half a month ago, insisting he hire a nurse for their father and refusing to set foot there herself. Jete, timid as always, was too afraid to visit Holbrook at all.

    Only now did it hit Sawyer-what he''d thought was a happy family was, in reality, just a fractured shell.

    He didn''t even know how to answer his father.

    Holbrook saw his son''s silence and understood.

    For some reason, his thoughts turned to Citrine.

    That girl had visited the old family home every single week, without fail, to y chess with him or bring him vitamins and herbal supplements. Back when Sawyer was always at work, it was Citrine who stayed by his side when he was ill-never leaving the room, neverining.

    Yet Holbrook had always treated her with a cold distance, simply because she wasn''t his biological granddaughter.

    Meanwhile, Jete-his real granddaughter-rarely bothered to visit, not even when he fell ill, despite how much he''d doted on her.

    What a bitter joke, Holbrook thought. The adopted child had shown more love and respect than his own flesh and blood.

    As the end drew near, memories grew sharper. It was Citrine, always Citrine, who had truly cared for him.

    And now, he realized, he''d broken that child''s heart.

    Regret swept over Holbrook like a tide.

    He looked at Sawyer, voice steady and full of longing. "Sawyer, I don''t have much

    time left. I want to see Citrine."

 Chapter 242

    "Dad, maybe Citrine... maybe she doesn''t want us to bother her." Sawyer pressed his lips together, clearly uneasy.

    Holbrook let out a weary sigh and said quietly, "The person I''ve wronged the most in this life is Citrine. I don''t have much time left. I just want to see her onest time."

    "Alright. I promise I''ll do it." Sawyer couldn''t stand hearing Holbrook talk like that and immediately agreed.

    The next day, Citrine received a call from an unknown number-Sawyer''s.

    When she learned that Holbrook wanted to see her before he died, the news caught her off guard.

    After all, Holbrook had always treated her, his adopted daughter, with open disdain.

    She didn''t know why he suddenly wanted to see her, but the thought of witnessing his misery at the end of his life made the visit feel worthwhile.

    Half an hourter, Citrine arrived at the hospital, following Sawyer''s directions.

    "Sawyer!" he called, waving as soon as he saw her approach the entrance.

    Citrine strode over, her face expressionless. She didn''t even nce at Sawyer, her voice cool and detached. "Lead the way."

    Sawyer pressed his lips together, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. With a forced smile, he led Citrine down the hall to a standard hospital room.

    Stepping inside, Citrine nced around. A trace of mockery shed through her eyes.

    Holbrook had lived half his life in luxury. He probably never imagined he''d end up like this-unable to afford even a private hospital suite in his old age.

    How pitiful.

    "Citrine, you haven''t visited your grandpa in a long time." Holbrook''s voice wavered with emotion as he saw her enter.

    "Oh? Hasn''t your precious granddaughter Jetee to see you?" Citrine''s gaze rested coldly on the bedridden man, her tone distant.

    At the mention of Jete, Holbrook''s eyes changed, a bitter look crossing his face.

    After a moment''s silence, he finally asked, "Citrine, do you still hate your grandfather?"

    Citrine settled into the chair opposite his bed, meeting his gaze without a hint of restraint. She nodded. "Hate you? Of course I do. Everyst one of you in the Iverson family makes my blood boil."

    Holbrook hadn''t expected her honesty. His face darkened.

    Citrine let out a soft, humorlessugh. "But honestly, seeing what''s be of the Iversons, seeing you like this at the end of your life, it''s actually quite satisfying."

    "If any of you were doing well, I''d be miserable." She curled her lips in a cold smile, her eyes glinting with undisguised malice.

    Holbrook was stunned by the depth of her resentment. For a long moment, he was at a loss for words.

    Finally, he spoke, his voice hoarse, "Citrine, all these years... I failed you. I was too partial to Jete." His eyes grew red as he spoke.

    Citrine looked at him and felt nothing but contempt. Today''s misery was of his own making.

    She paused, then continued, "Just because I was adopted, you never liked me. No matter what I did, it was never enough. But Jete? All she had to do was bat hershes and you''d hand her the world-just because she was Sawyer''s biological daughter."

    "I was obedient, respectful, tried to be a good granddaughter. And what did I get? Your sharp tongue and endless scolding. Whenever I outshone Jete, you''d use me of scheming, of trying to steal her spotlight. No matter what happened between us, you always took her side."

    She leaned forward, voice steely. "Holbrook, don''t kid yourself. Even in death-I will never forgive you."

 Chapter 243

    Citrine''s words cut into Sawyer and Holbrook like sharp knives, leaving them reeling. Their faces drained of color, as if someone had ripped away their masks and left them exposed for all to see.

    She watched their humiliation with a bright, carelessugh. "Well, now that I''ve seen you two like this, I''ll finally sleep well tonight."

    With that, Citrine stood up and walked away without so much as a backward nce.

    Stepping out of the hospital, she drew in the crisp night air, feeling an unexpected lightness. In her previous life, Holbrook Iverson and Theo Glenwood had conspired to put her on the operating table, sacrificing her so Jete could have a new kidney. This time around, she would make sure every debt was paid in full.

    The Iversons'' suffering? So far, it was nothing-Holbrook was only on the verge of death. That was just an appetizer. The real reckoning was still toe, and Citrine couldn''t help but smile with anticipation. Soon, the Iverson family would be a much more interesting spectacle.

    Leaving the hospital behind, Citrine headed straight back to the Carmichael estate.

    Ever since that day at the hospital, when she''d sensed how unconditionally the Carmichaels indulged her, she had stopped pretending-revealing her true, mischievous self. She didn''t bother to hide her devilish side, letting it show in all its glory. In her mind, the day the Carmichaels grew tired of her would be the day she walked away for good.

    But what Citrine didn''t know was that from the moment she was discharged, Raymond and Manley had begun an all-out war in Havencrest, shaking the whole city''s business world.

    Over the years, Manley had quietly built up considerable resources, founding a respected techpany overseas called Deep Horizon Enterprises. Its scale nearly matched that of the Carmichael Group, and just recently, Deep Horizon''s headquarters had relocated to Havencrest.

    In the days since, Deep Horizon had been relentlessly sabotaging the Carmichael Group-wrecking several of their deals in quick session and even poaching some of their top clients. The losses to the Carmichael Group were staggering.

    Citrine rarely saw Raymond at home these days. Even when he did make it back, there were dark circles under his eyes-clear evidence he hadn''t been sleeping well. She might not have cared much about the Carmichael Group before, but she could guess that something serious was going on.

    Since Raymond refused to talk about it, Citrine did some digging on her own the next day. The facts were just as she''d suspected, with one surprise: the chairman of Deep Horizon Enterprises was none other than Uncle Manley.

    Weren''t Raymond and Manley brothers? How had ite to this, the two of them at each other''s throats?

    That night, Raymond came homete. Citrine, knowing he''d be back, stayed up waiting for him.

    When he finally walked in, the living room lights were still on, and his daughter was sitting on the couch, watching the door with unwavering focus.

    "Citrine, why are you still up?" Raymond crossed the room and sat down beside her, putting on a tired but genuine smile.

    He should have been exhausted after a long day, but seeing his daughter seemed to fill him with energy, washing away the fatigue.

    Citrine didn''t notice any of that. She just looked at him, her tone even. "I was waiting for you," she said, a hint of reproach in her eyes. "You haven''te home in time for dinner in ages."

    Raymond paused, but warmth flooded his heart. He smiled. "Does that mean you missed your dad, Citrine?"

    "I did not," she insisted, looking away.

    Raymond just kept smiling at her, feeling a rare and precious happiness in that moment.

    Sitting so close, Citrine finally noticed how pale and drawn he looked. For some reason, seeing him this way made her chest tighten with guilt over the words she''d just said. Awkwardly, she tried to exin, "It''s just... with you gone so much, eating alone isn''t nearly as nice."

 Chapter 244

    Raymond smiled as he gently ruffled his daughter''s hair, his eyes full of affection. "I''ll try my best toe home early for dinner with you."

    After all these years, Raymond knew his daughter inside out. She was, in short, a stubborn andplicated child.

    They chatted for a while, until Citrine suddenly asked, "Dad, do you have a grudge against Manley?"

    She remembered how fiercely the two men had argued in the hospital that day,

    but Citrine didn''t believe she was the true cause of their falling out.

    Raymond looked at her, caught off guard. "What makes you ask that?"

    Citrine hesitated, then said, "I... I just want to know."

    Raymond knew she was far more perceptive than most children her age. When he talked with her, he often spoke as candidly as he would with an adult. He saw no reason to hide the truth from her.

    "Back then, Manley got into a car ident and lost the use of his legs. He''s always believed I had something to do with it. He''s hated me ever since."

    Citrine pressed further. "Is that why he''s targeting The Carmichael Group?"

    Raymond was a little surprised. "How did you find out?"

    "I looked into it," Citrine answered, not bothering to hide the truth.

    She continued, "Did you really do it?"

    Raymond shook his head. "No. He''s my brother. I would never hurt him."

    "Then why don''t you just exin it to him?" Citrine couldn''t understand why a simple misunderstanding couldn''t be cleared up.

    "It''s no use. He''s convinced he has evidence against me, and nothing I say will change his mind. Besides, his hatred runs too deep. All these years, he''s been building up influence overseas-just waiting for this moment to strike at The Carmichael Group. He''s not going to back down easily." Raymond''s voice was steady, but his eyes were unreadable.

    For some reason, Citrine suddenly thought of Manley''s close friend, Phelps. She couldn''t shake the feeling that he was somehow involved.

    "That''s enough about adult problems. Your only job is to be happy," Raymond said with a chuckle, seeing the worry on her face.

    Citrine looked up at him, her expression earnest. "I don''t want you to lose everything."

    To her, Raymond wasn''t just her father-he was unlike anyone else in the world.

    She didn''t yet understand the depth of family ties, but she simply wanted him to have a good life.

    Raymond couldn''t figure out why she was so convinced he might go bankrupt, but he still gave her a solemn promise. "Don''t worry. That won''t happen."

    After a moment, he added, "But even if it did, I wouldn''t let you suffer not for a second."

    Citrine was touched by the seriousness in his eyes.

    She replied just as seriously, "If you really did lose everything, I could take care of you."

    Raymond burst outughing. "Alright, alright, I''ll count on you to support me."

    Citrine frowned, her face deadly serious. "I mean it. Stop joking-besides, I have plenty of money now."

    Raymond tried to stifle hisughter and put on a straight face. "Okay, I believe you."

    The next day, Citrine began investigating the ident that had changed Manley''s

    life.

    But as fate would have it, both Raymond and Phelps had been present at the scene of Manley''s crash all those years ago.

 Chapter 245

    A bold suspicion took root in Citrine''s mind.

    Maybe Uncle Manley''s car ident had something to do with Phelps.

    But why was he so sure Raymond was behind it? What kind of evidence did Uncle Manley have?

    As night deepened, Citrine scrolled through her contacts, found the Havencrest Detective Agency group chat, and fired off a message.

    Replies came in almost instantly.

    "Boss! You''ve been MIA for ages-we''ve been waiting on pins and needles."

    "Boss, hang on, I''ll get on it right away."

    An hourter, a notification popped up: someone had sent a video. Citrine tapped it open immediately.

    The setting was instantly familiar. She recognized it at once as the Manley family''s underground garage. The ce was empty, until a man in a ck tracksuit and baseball cap suddenly slipped in from the shadows. His face was hidden behind a mask, his movements furtive as he crept toward the car Manley drove most often.

    He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and effortlessly unlocked the car. After making sure he was alone, he quickly tampered with the brakes, then slipped away as quietly as he''de.

    Citrine stared at the man on the screen, her gaze fixed-there was something uncannily familiar about his build.

    Suddenly, it hit her. Her eyes lit up.

    Of course. That was Uncle Manley''s personal driver.

    She typed another message to the group.

    This time, it took less than half an hour for a reply toe back.

    "Boss, you guessed it-the guy is definitely connected to Phelps. Over the past two years, Phelps wired him almost eight million dors, all before Manley''s ident."

    "And get this: on the day of the crash, the driver just happened to take the day off. For once, Manley was behind the wheel himself-and then the ident happened."

    "Oh, and I also found out the driver''s daughter was born with a heart defect. She''d been waiting ages for a transnt, no match in sight. But the day after Manley''s ident, she miraculously got apatible heart."

    Citrine''s brow furrowed, her expression turning grim. "Look into the Jensens." "On it."

    It wasn''t long before a full report on the Jensen family arrived.

    Citrine skimmed the file, her brows knitting in intrigue.

    Interesting.

    Aside from Le, the Jensen family was full of surprises from top to bottom.

    Phelps and his son Truman were both ruthlessly ambitious, locked in a constant power struggle. For the past two years, they''d been sabotaging each other at every turn, each determined to bring the other down.

    Both wanted control of the Jensen Group, but Elbert had always made it clear he had no intention of handing his shares over to either of them.

    By all logic, both men stood to gain from Elbert''s death.

    But then why had Phelps been so insistent about getting Vitaflux from her? If

    Elbert died, wouldn''t that actually work out in Phelps''s favor?

    Citrine pondered for a moment, then a slow, knowing smile tugged at her lips.

    So that''s what this is about.

    The following morning, Citrine headed to the Jensen estate alone.

    As luck would have it, all the Jensens were out except for Le.

    "Could I speak with Elbert alone for a moment?" Citrine asked Le politely, nodding in greeting.

    Just seeing Citrine there was a surprise for Le.

    She nodded enthusiastically, barely containing her excitement. "Of course, go right ahead."

    When Citrine entered the room, Elbert was lying in bed, looking frail and tired.

    But when he saw who it was, he blinked in surprise, then pushed himself upright.

    "Citrine, it''s you." The mention of Vitaflux flickered in his eyes, his expression brightening as he looked at her.

 Chapter 246

    The way Elbert looked at her made Citrine ufortable. She frowned, kept her distance, and stayed a yard away, her gaze cool and steady.

    She skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point. "Elbert, what did Phelps want in exchange for getting Vitaflux for you?"

    "What do you mean, ''in exchange''? He''s my son. It''s only natural he''d help me get the medicine." Elbert avoided her gaze, a flicker of guilt in his eyes as hey back down on the bed.

    Since he clearly wasn''t going to answer, Citrine didn''t push. Instead, she sat down on the armchair,zily cracking open some sunflower seeds from the bowl on the coffee table. ¡°You know, Elbert, I know exactly where your mistress and your illegitimate son are living."

    His face changed instantly. He shot up in bed, voice trembling. "How-how do you know that?"

    Citrine didn''t answer. She scanned him up and down, a faint, mocking smile on her lips. "You seem pretty spry for someone who''s supposed to be sick. Are you faking it?"

    Elbert flushed, cheeks turning red. Whether from anger or embarrassment, it was hard to say. "What are you talking about?"

    She watched him squirm for a moment, then continued, "If you don''t want to talk, I''ll just have to go ask them myself. And if the media gets wind of it, well, I can''t guarantee what might end up in the tabloids."

    With that, Citrine made as if to leave.

    Panic shed across Elbert''s face. He called out, "Wait, don''t go!"

    She kept moving, and Elbert started coughing in agitation. "Fine, fine, I''ll tell you. Happy now?"

    Citrine stopped and sat back down, calm and collected. "Go on."

    Elbert let out a long sigh. "I''ve got something on Truman."

    "What kind of something?" Citrine''s tone was t.

    He hesitated, his eyes hardening for a moment. Then he said quietly, "A video of

    him ordering a hit. It''s enough to convict him in court."

    Just as she''d expected. Citrine''s lips curled ever so slightly.

    "Give me the video, and Vitaflux is yours for one and a half billion," she said, cutting straight to the chase.

    Elbert''s eyes lit up at the mention of Vitaflux.

    Without thinking, he blurted, "Deal."

    "But I want the video first." Citrine''s voice left no room for negotiation.

    Elbert''s smile faded. He hesitated, torn.

    Citrine saw right through him. Smiling, she said, "Rx. I keep my word. Besides, you don''t have a choice."

    "Don''t you want to live, Elbert?"

    She had him cornered, and he knew it.

    He didn''t hesitate anymore. "Fine. I agree."

    At his age, nothing mattered more to Elbert than staying alive. All he had to do was sacrifice a son-a son born to a woman he never cared for, anyway. It was a small price to pay.

    Citrine got the video that very day. True to her word, once she''d checked it and found nothing amiss, she told Elbert to get the money ready.

    Conveniently, the Jensen family''s liquid assets totaled exactly one and a half billion¡ªeveryst cent they could scrape together. Elbert wired the money to Citrine''s ount as soon as he could.

    That same day, Citrine sent her people to deliver the Vitaflux.

 Chapter 247

    After leaving the Jensen estate, Citrine heard that the Carmichael Group had called a shareholders'' meeting.

    Manley was there too.

    A sense of unease gnawed at her.

    She didn''t dare waste a second-Citrine rushed straight to the Carmichael Group headquarters. When she arrived, she saw Raymond at the end of a long boardroom table, pen in hand, signing away his position as CEO.

    She froze in the doorway, her face draining of color. In the next instant, she darted forward and snatched the pen from Raymond''s grasp.

    "Citrine? What are you doing here?" Raymond stared at his daughter in surprise, but beneath it, shame flickered in his eyes.

    He hated for her to see him like this-broken, defeated. It was humiliating.

    Citrine''s face wasposed, almost cold. She met her father''s gaze, her voice steady and clear. "You can''t sign that."

    Raymond tried to smile, ruffling her hair with a trembling hand. "Citrine, you''re still young. You don''t understand-this is the only way to save the Carmichael Group. If I don''t step down, thepany will go under."

    "I said you can''t sign, and I mean it." Citrine''s eyes never left his. There was a stubbornness there, fierce and unyielding and maybe even a flicker of concern for him, though she didn''t seem to realize it herself.

    Manley watched the scene unfold, feeling nothing but irritation.

    He and Raymond would never reconcile that much was certain. But Citrine was Raymond''s daughter.

    If she saw how ruthlessly he was forcing her father out, she''d probably hate him forever.

    Manley''s gaze darkened. He cleared his throat. "Citrine, if you stay with Raymond, life''s only going to get harder. Why note with me? Everything I have¡ªmy future, my fortune-it could all be yours."

    He pressed his lips together, avoiding Citrine''s eyes, afraid of finding only hatred and contempt.

    Citrine wasn''t sure what to think of Manley these days, and her tone chilled. "As long as I''m here, Raymond won''t have to suffer."

    Raymond''s heart softened at his daughter''s words.

    Manley was taken aback. Citrine had always been affectionate with him¡ªshe''d practically doted on her "Uncle Manley" as a child.

    But now, her distance was unmistakable. She seemed to despise him.

    The realization stung. Something twisted in Manley''s chest, and his hands

    tightened on the arms of his wheelchair.

    Citrine, oblivious to the tension, nced around at the crowded boardroom. "Both of youe with me. Now."

    She didn''t wait for a response, simply turned and strode out.

    Raymond and Manley exchanged a look, but no matter how confused they were, they had no choice but to follow.

    They ended up in Raymond''s office.

    Citrine wasted no time. She pulled up a file on theputer-a security video showing Manley''s personal driver tampering with the brakes on his car.

    Raymond and Manley exchanged puzzled looks, unsure what Citrine was getting at. But as they watched the video, their expressions changed in an instant.

    That was the car-the same one Manley had been driving the day of the ident years ago. One glimpse, and both men recognized it.

    They stared, tense, at the shadowy figure on the screen.

    "In God''s name, who is that?" they demanded in unison.

    Citrine didn''t answer directly. "Uncle Manley, I think you already have a suspicion, don''t you?"

    Manley shook his head immediately. "That''s impossible. Zack''s been with me over ten years. He even saved my life when I was a kid. He would never betray me."

    Citrine brought up another file-this one, the hospital records for Zack''s daughter. "Uncle Manley, I''m guessing he never told you his daughter was born with a serious heart condition."

    "That''s his personal life-I never got involved." Manley''s surprise was genuine. He hadn''t known, but he didn''t see what difference it made.

 Chapter 248

    "Even before your ident, there were regr transfers between Phelps and Zack," Citrine said, pulling a stack of printed bank statements from her bag andying them out in front of Manley. "Zack''s daughter needed money for her medical treatment. She''d been waiting years for a heart transnt, but nothing matched until the very morning of your ident. That''s when she finally got apatible heart. Tell me, isn''t that a little too convenient?"

    Manley stared at the statements, his face darkening with every line he read.

    Phelps had been his childhood friend-practically a brother-and after Manley''s ident, the only one who still made the effort to see him.

    Manley''s hands shook as he clutched the printouts, his expression twisted with pain and disbelief.

    Harsh as the truth was, Uncle Manley couldn''t stay in the dark forever.

    Citrine plugged a USB drive into theptop and yed the final piece of evidence ¡ªa surveince video from the Jensen family''s study.

    The footage showed Phelps lounging on the sofa, legs crossed. Sitting beside him was Zack.

    Phelps''s gaze lingered on Zack, admiration flickering in his eyes. "You did well. This is your reward."

    As he spoke, Phelps pushed a box stuffed with cash toward Zack.

    Zack didn''t reach for it. Instead, he looked Phelps straight in the eye, his tone resolute. "All I care about is my daughter getting apatible heart. I don''t want your money."

    A slow grin spread across Phelps''s face. "Come on, Zack. Her transnt''s already arranged. You did your part perfectly-this is just a bonus." He nudged the box of cash closer.

    This time, Zack didn''t refuse.

    But as he stood to leave, he paused. "Mr. Jensen, you and Manley grew up together. You''re supposed to be close. Why did you do this to him?"

    At the mention of Manley, Phelps''s smile vanished. His face went cold; a flicker of hatred shed in his eyes.

    "I despise him," Phelps spat. "He was always better than me-smarter, richer, more admired. Everypetition we entered together, he would alwayse first, and I''d be stuck in second ce. In college, I chased the same girl for three years-she never even nced at me, but she clung to Manley like a leech. Even in the Jensen family, I was more qualified than that bastard, but my father would rather hand thepany to a nobody than to me. Yet Weston allowed Manley to enter the heir selection process, treating him as an equal. I admit it¡ªI''m jealous. Jealous enough to wish he were dead. Too bad the car crash didn''t finish him off. Still, seeing the golden boy end up crippled...that''s almost satisfying."

    He sneered, his face twisted with rage. "Watching him be a cripple thrilled me. Finally, he can''t steal my spotlight ever again."

    Manley sat frozen, his body rigid as the video ended.

    ¡°That bastard,¡± he snarled through gritted teeth, eyes burning red as he red at the screen. "I''ll make him pay for this."

    Citrine quietly removed the USB, handed it to Manley, and said, "Uncle Manley, now you know the truth. This is yours."

    Raymond stepped forward, giving Manley''s shoulder a reassuring pat.

    After a moment''s hesitation, Raymond spoke up. "The only reason I was even there that day was because someone tipped me off that you were in danger."

    Outwardly, their rtionship had always seemed strained. But the truth was, Raymond and Manley were brothers-blood brothers. Even as rivals for the family inheritance, Raymond had never once considered harming him.

 Chapter 249

    The next day, Manley handed the USB drive over to the local police. Phelps and Zack were brought in for questioning immediately, and with all the evidence stacked against them, both were sentenced without much dy.

    After everything was cleared up, Manley''spany, Deep Horizon Enterprises, finally ceased all their underhanded tactics against The Carmichael Group.

    Summer break always seemed to fly by. Just a weekter, Havencrest Primus Academy was back in session.

    That morning, Raymond personally drove Citrine to school.

    As soon as she stepped out of the car, Citrine spotted Jete and Clifford climbing out of a Rolls-Royce on the other side of the parking lot.

    The Iverson family was bankrupt, yet they could still afford to ride around in a Rolls-Royce? Citrine scoffed quietly at the sight.

    She was about to turn away when a man leaned out of the Rolls'' window, catching her eye.

    He looked at Jete with a fond smile, calling out, "Jete, I''ll pick you two up this afternoon, alright?"

    Jete beamed and, linking arms with Clifford, disappeared through the school gates.

    When did he get back? Citrine stared at the man''s familiar profile, her eyes clouding with unspoken thoughts.

    Meanwhile, inside ssroom 20, sophomore year-

    Jete looked stunning that day-every inch of her was dressed in designerbels. She settled into her seat, expecting the usual crowd of boys and girls to swarm around her, eager for her attention.

    It had always been that way: all she had to do was sit down, and the others woulde running, vying to make her smile.

    But today, ten minutes ticked by and not a single person approached. The ssroom was alive with chatter, but everyone clustered in their own groups,ughing and joking, leaving Jete alone at her desk.

    Pressing her lips together, Jete rose and walked over to where her usual group of girlfriends was gathered.

    She forced a smile and pointed to an empty chair. "Hey Nic, mind if I sit here?"

    Before Nic could respond, another girl dropped into the seat Jete had pointed at.

    With a cold smirk, the girl looked up at Jete. "Oops, sorry-I wanted to sit here."

    Her words were apologetic, but her tone dripped with mockery.

    She grinned wickedly. "Heard Miss Iverson rolled up in a Rolls-Royce today. What, did you get yourself a sugar daddy?"

    Laughter erupted around them, all eyes turning toward Jete.

    Nic covered her mouth, giggling. "Miss Iverson? Please. The Iversons are bankrupt what''s left to be a ''Miss'' of?"

    She went on, "Look at her, head to toe in designer clothes. Must be worth a fortune. With her family broke, who''s buying her these things? Bet it''s some old guy footing the bill."

    "I always thought Jete was this sweet, delicate little thing, but I guess when ites to money, she''ll do anything."

    "No wonder she bombed her finalsst semester-probably too busy cozying up to rich men to study."

    As the gossip grew nastier, Jete''s expression darkened.

    She clenched her fists, struggling to keep her anger in check. "You''re making things up!"

    Nic rolled her eyes. "We''re just telling the truth. Before your family went under, I never saw you in a Rolls-Royce. Now, suddenly, you''re livingrge? And those clothes and that hairpin you''re wearing-they''re thetest releases from luxury brands. There''s no way you could afford them now, not with your family bankrupt. So who''s paying for all this, Jete?"

 Chapter 250

    Jete was ghostly pale. She''d dressed up today just to avoid being looked down on, but she never imagined it wouldnd her in this kind of trouble.

    Tears shimmered in her eyes as she looked at the group. "Aren''t we friends?" she pleaded. "Don''t you believe me at all?"

    ying the victim was her go-to tactic, and in the past, it always worked like a charm.

    Jete cast her most pitiful look around, hoping to win some sympathy from the rest of the ssroom.

    Normally, by this point, half the ss would have rushed over tofort her. But now, even though she was putting on her best performance yet, not a single person came to her defense.

    Inside, Jete cursed them all a hundred times over.

    Someone finally spoke up, voice thick with disgust. "God, you''re pathetic."

    The group looked at her, their eyes full of contempt as she started sniffling and ying the same tired act.

    A girl who''d never liked her to begin with snatched a textbook off her desk and hurled it straight at Jete.

    Her voice dripped with venom. "Cut the crap, Jete. Do you really think we can''t see through your maniptive little games?"

    "Why do you think we ever sucked up to you in the first ce? It''s because you''re the Iverson family''s princess, and cozying up to you was the only way to keep our parents'' businesses safe."

    Bitch. Everyst one of them.

    Jete''s head rang from the impact. She clutched her bruised forehead, eyes flickering with hatred as she silently vowed she would never forgive these traitors.

    Nic crossed her arms, her face nk as she stared Jete down. "The Iverson family''s bankrupt now. You''re worthless to us. We don''t need some penniless loser hanging around."

    "Get lost. From now on, you''re not wee in our group. Don''t let us catch you around here again, or next time it won''t just be a book."

    Back when she was the star of ss Ten, no one would have dared talk to her like this. Jete''s face flushed scarlet with rage, but she swallowed her pride and sank back into her seat.

    For the rest of the morning, not a single ssmate spoke to her. It wasn''t until the end of the day, when the ssroom had nearly emptied out, that a boy walked

    over.

    Jete''s eyes brightened with hope as he approached.

    But before she could say a word, he dropped a set of keys on her desk. "Keys to my apartment."

    She stared at him in confusion. The next moment, he spoke again. ¡°Jete, I like you. If you''ll be my girlfriend, I''ll give you ten grand a month."

    All hope vanished from Jete''s eyes.

    Her face hardened. "Get out of here," she spat. "I''m the Iverson family''s heiress. Who do you think you are, throwing that kind of offer at me?"

    Ten grand wouldn''t even pay for one of her dresses. Did he think she was some beggar?

    Furious, Jete hurled the keys back at him without a second thought.

    The boy looked stunned, anger darkening his face. "Jete, the Iversons are broke. You really think you''re still the princess everyone wants to please?"

    "I''m doing you a favor here. Who are you to say no to me?"

    She shot him a look of pure disgust. "Even with the family''s money gone, you''re not nearly good enough for me."

    He still wouldn''t give up. "You''d sleep with an old man for cash, but you won''t be my girlfriend? No matter what, I''m better than some wrinkled sugar daddy."

 Chapter 251

    After leaving school, Jete was quiet and sullen, her mood hardly lifting by the time she got home.

    Sawyer happened to be home that day. He''d been tending to Holbrook for the past week, but today he''d managed to slip away just long enough for a quick shower. He was barely dressed when he heard the door and saw his son and daughter walk in.

    Noticing Jete''s gloomy expression, Sawyer called out, "Jete, what''s wrong?"

    The question brought everything rushing back-her face darkened as she remembered what had happened at school.

    The resentment she''d bottled up all day finally boiled over.

    She red at Sawyer and snapped, "It''s your fault! If you hadn''t been so useless,

    if you could''ve protected our family name, I wouldn''t have been mocked at school!" In that moment, she forgot all her usual caution around her father. Her anger spilled over and she took it all out on him.

    Sawyer and Clifford both froze, staring at her in shock.

    It took Sawyer a moment to process what he''d just heard. When he did, his face hardened, his voice icy. "Jete, did you forget everything you were taught about respect?"

    He looked at his daughter, unable to believe what he was hearing. She had always been sweet, thoughtful, the kind of girl who''d light up a room with her kindness. For a second, Sawyer couldn''t believe those bitter words hade from her mouth.

    "Jete, that was way out of line. Apologize to Dad. Now," Clifford said, his brow furrowed in anger.

    He couldn''t get the image out of his head-his little sister, usually so gentle and considerate, twisted with anger and me. She seemed like a stranger.

    Jete realized immediately that she''d gone too far. Panic shed across her face.

    Seeing both Sawyer and Clifford ring at her, she lowered her head and mumbled, ¡°I''m sorry, Dad. I''m sorry, Clifford. I shouldn''t have said that. Please don''t be mad at me."

    Her eyes shimmered with tears.

    "It''s alright. I know you''re upset today. I''m not angry," Clifford softened as soon as he saw her tears. He''d always had a soft spot for her.

    Sawyer, on the other hand, felt nothing. Not pity, not forgiveness-just exhaustion.

    Once, he might have felt his heart ache for his daughter. But everything had changed. Since thepany went under, he''d seen the best and worst in people. He''d spent sleepless nights at the hospital, caring for his father while the rest of the family seemed to drift further away. He was physically and emotionally spent.

    He''d learned that sometimes, words spoken in anger are just truths people are too afraid to say out loud.

    His own daughter med him for everything.

    He had poured his heart into raising her, given her everything he could. Now, when the family was at its lowest, she turned on him for not being strong enough. How could he not feel bitter?

    Too weary to argue, Sawyer simply turned and walked away to his room.

    "Do you think Dad''s really angry?" Jete whispered, squinting after his retreating figure.

    Clifford waved her off. "No way. You''re Dad''s favorite. He could never stay mad at you."

    It was true. Sawyer had always doted on her. Nearly all the family''s assets had been put in her name-none of the boys had ever gotten that kind of treatment.

    Jete watched her father''s silhouette disappear down the hall. Gradually, the panic faded from her eyes, reced by calm.

    Two weekster, Sawyer received a call from the hospital. A death notification.

    Holbrook had juste out of surgery. By all ounts, he should have been stable for a while. But something went wrong. He passed away unexpectedly in his hospital bed.

    The moment Sawyer got the news, he rushed to the hospital. Holbrook had already been taken to the morgue, his body covered from head to toe with a white sheet.

 Chapter 252

    The moment Sawyer saw Holbrook''s lifeless body, he broke downpletely. With a heavy thud, he dropped to his knees at his father''s side, sobbing

    uncontrobly.

    "Dad." His eyes were red, hands trembling so badly he couldn''t even bring himself to lift the sheet covering Holbrook''s face.

    A doctor in a white coat walked over and ced a gentle hand on Sawyer''s shoulder. "Mr. Iverson, I''m truly sorry for your loss."

    He paused, then took a piece of paper from his assistant and handed it to Sawyer. "By the way, your father donated his heart before he passed. This is the donation certificate."

    "What?" At those words, Sawyer''s expression changed instantly.

    He snatched the paperwork and scanned it. The signature was unmistakably his father''s.

    This time, without hesitating, Sawyer yanked back the sheet covering Holbrook''s chest and leaned in. Where his father''s heart should have been, there was only a hollow cavity.

    "No. No way. My father would never agree to donate his organs." Sawyer

    stumbled back several steps, shaking his head in disbelief, though his eyes shone with fierce certainty.

    The doctor sighed. "Mr. Iverson, I know this is hard to ept, but it''s the truth. Your father signed this donation form himself. It was entirely voluntary."

    "You liars!" Sawyer''s face went cold as ice. He lunged, wrapping his hands around the doctor''s throat, squeezing tighter with every word. "You bastards¡ªwhat did you do to my father?"

    Sawyer''s conviction was absolute. Holbrook would never have signed such an agreement¡ªbecause all his life, he''d repeated the same thing: If I die, I want to go whole.

    Sawyer remembered years ago, back in college, when he''d insisted on signing up as an organ donor. His father had stormed into the hospital, broken several of Sawyer''s ribs, and absolutely forbade it.

    Now, the doctor was choking for breath, his face turning red. Finally, orderlies rushed in and managed to pry Sawyer off him.

    "Give me back my father!" Sawyer shouted, his face contorted with grief and fury.

    The doctor, still gasping, red at Sawyer. A twisted smile flickered across his lips, a glint of malice in his eyes. ¡°Mr. Iverson, I have no idea what you''re talking about."

    "Sawyer, you''d better face reality. You''re no longer the untouchable Mr. Iverson. In fact, you''re no different from a fish on the chopping block-just waiting for someone to carve you up."

    In the end, Sawyer never got the justice he wanted for his father.

    A few dayster, Sawyer organized Holbrook''s funeral.

    When the service was over, he threw himself into investigating what really happened to his father.

    The Iverson family might have gone bankrupt, but Sawyer still had a few resources left. Digging up the truth wasn''t beyond him.

    After two days of relentless searching, he finally found a clue.

    Holbrook had first been admitted to one hospital, then transferred to another. Both were owned by the same man-Havencrest''s notorious Mr. Goldberg.

    Goldberg had a reputation for ruthlessness. Years ago, he''d run with the city''s criminal underworld, his hands stained with more than a little blood. Only recently had he cleaned up his act and opened two private hospitals.

    Both hospitals had one thing inmon: they catered exclusively to the wealthy.

    If you were poor, you didn''t even make it through the door.

    In fact, just a few years ago, Goldberg''s hospitals had epted both rich and poor patients-until a scandal hit the news.

    It started when a boy from a struggling family needed routine treatment for a minor kidney problem. But at the hospital, the doctors insisted on a transnt. The boy died on the operating table; his kidney was never reced, and he lost his life.

    Whispers spread online that the boy''s kidney went straight to a powerful, well- connected businessman.

    After the incident, the hospital announced it would no longer take poor patients. At least, that was the official story. What they did behind closed doors-who they targeted, what shady business they conducted no one really knew.

 Chapter 253

    Holbrook''s death was a thorn lodged deep in Sawyer''s heart.

    For days afterward, Sawyer wouldn''t let it go. He showed up at the hospital every day, making a scene. On this particr day, his path crossed with the same male doctor he''d shed with before.

    "You again?" The doctor eyed Sawyer, a glint of disdain flickering in his eyes.

    The moment Sawyer saw him, his expression turned icy. Without hesitation, he charged forward and swung a fist at the doctor''s face. "You bastards killed my father! Give me back my dad''s life!"

    Before his punch couldnd, a group of bodyguards in dark suits stepped between them, grabbing Sawyer and pinning his arms.

    "If your father was killed, take it to the police," the doctor said, stepping back in disgust and motioning for the guards to restrain him.

    Sawyer was forced down onto the coffee table. He clenched his fists and stayed silent. If he had any real evidence, he would''ve gone to the police long ago¡ªbut all he had were suspicions and grief.

    He felt himself crumbling. Suddenly, he broke free from their grip and dropped to a squat on the floor, dazed, muttering under his breath, "My dad was so old. Why did you have to hurt him... why?"

    He never expected an answer, but to his surprise, the doctor walked over and crouched down in front of him, meeting his eyes.

    Lanny Goldberg''s thin lips parted. "Because you''re weak. If you were still the all- powerful Mr. Iverson, your father would still be alive."

    His voice was low, just loud enough for Sawyer to hear.

    Sawyer stared at him, stunned, and managed to choke out, "What did you just say?"

    Lanny''s lips curled into a sudden, mocking smile.

    "How na?ve. I honestly don''t know how you ever built up the Iverson Group. Let me tell you, Sawyer, this world weeds out the weak first. No money, no power¡ª that''s the real crime. So if you''re looking to me someone for Holbrook''s death, me yourself."

    "So... you admit it was your hospital that killed my father, is that it?" Sawyer''s eyes were bloodshot as he red at Lanny, forcing the words out.

    ¡°So what if I do?¡± Lanny let out a coldugh, making no effort to deny it.

    His gaze flicked pointedly to the inside pocket of Sawyer''s suit jacket.

    Then, with a subtle gesture, he signaled the guards. They pinned Sawyer down again and tore the small voice recorder from his pocket, handing it to Lanny.

    "Give that back!" Sawyer''s face twisted with rage. He struggled, but the guards held him fast. He could only watch as Lanny took the recorder.

    "Give it back? In your dreams," Lanny sneered. Then, without another word, he tossed the recorder to the floor and ground his dress shoe down on it-again and again¡ªuntil the stic was shattered, the device reduced to useless pieces.

    "Mr. Iverson, I have other matters to attend to. I''ll leave you in the good hands of my associates."

    He gave his men a look. "Make sure he''s properly ''taken care of."

    With that, Lanny strode out, leaving Sawyer behind.

    That night, Sawyer limped out of the hospital, bruised and battered. Later, he sat down and poured out over a thousand words of usation, posting them across every social media tform he could find.

    Within days, his story exploded online, outrage spreading like wildfire over Holbrook''s death and the hospital''s involvement.

    As the hospital''s reputation took hit after hit, Mr. Goldberg''s patience snapped. He

    Clifford and Jete were suddenly facing expulsion from school.

    Norton, who had just found a new job, was abruptly let go.

    One evening, when Sawyer returned home, Aline finally said the words he''d been dreading.

    "Sawyer, you promised I''d never have to struggle, that our daughter would have a good life. Not only did you break your word, but now because you''ve made enemies you''ve ruined her future."

 Chapter 254

    Aline sat on the couch, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Gone was the gentle, amodating woman Sawyer once knew; now her eyes were cold, her words sharper than ever-so cutting they could draw blood.

    Sawyer stared at his wife of over a decade, his face shadowed with disbelief. After a long, heavy pause, he finally nodded, defeated. "Alright."

    After all these years together, Aline was asking for a divorce, and yet, besides a flicker of surprise, Sawyer felt nothing. No anger, no heartbreak-just resignation.

    Aline hadn''t expected him to yield so easily. She let out a quiet sigh of relief and pressed on. "Since you''ve agreed, you can keep one of the houses. The rest-the properties and the savings-they''re all mine."

    "That''s fine." Sawyer barely hesitated. Then he turned his gaze to Jete. "Just one condition. Jete stays with me."

    Jete was Sawyer''s only daughter. There was no way he''d give her up.

    No sooner had he spoken than both Aline and Jete spoke up, panic in their voices.

    "No." The word rang out from mother and daughter at once.

    Aline red at Sawyer, her tone unyielding. "Sawyer, your life is a mess right now. You want our daughter to suffer alongside you? What kind of father are you? I''m her mother-she stays with me."

    Ignoring her, Sawyer looked past Aline to Jete. His voice was almost pleading. "Jete, would youe with me? Please?"

    He had just lost his father. Now, Jete was all he had left. She was the only family he had in the world. Ever since he''d lost his mother as a boy, and with his father always distant, Sawyer had rarely felt the warmth of family. Jete was everything to him. He couldn''t bear to lose her, too.

    Jete met her father''s eyes and, utterly unashamed, shook her head. "I want to spend money however I want, every single day. I want the best clothes, the nicest house. I have big dreams, Dad, and you can''t give me any of it. I don''t want to live in misery with you."

    "If you really love me, just let me stay with Mom."

    She fired off her answer all at once, then looked away, refusing to meet Sawyer''s gaze.

    He was stunned. All these years, he''d spoiled Jete, always giving her whatever she wanted. He never imagined that, in the end, she''d abandon him too.

    Norton stared at his sister in disbelief. "Sis, Dad''s done everything for you. How can you hurt him like this?" He sounded as if he barely recognized the person speaking.

    Even Clifford, who usually took Jete''s side, stood with Sawyer this time. "Jete, Dad''s always loved you most. He''s taken care of you and Aunt Aline, given you everything he could. Now that the Iverson family''s fallen on hard times, is this really how you treat him? Isn''t that just cruel?"

    He turned to Aline. "Aline, Dad''s been nothing but good to you all these years. Now that he''s lost his fortune, you''re leaving him? How can you be so heartless?"

    Aline rolled her eyes and snapped, "Oh, please. The only reason I married Sawyer was because he was loaded. And let''s not forget, he already had you kids when I met him. Now he''s broke, and you still expect me to stick around and suffer? Why should I? I just want a good life."

    "You-" Clifford was at a loss for words.

    He turned back to Jete, voice soft with desperation. "Jete, please... don''t go."

 Chapter 255

    In this family, Clifford and Jete were close in age, and since they attended the same school and spent nearly every waking moment together, their rtionship had always been strong.

    The moment the words were spoken, all eyes-Sawyer, Norton, and Clifford immediately turned to Jete.

    The three men had always doted on Jete since she was a child, so deep down, they couldn''t believe she''d abandon the Iverson family at its lowest point.

    Their gazes burned into her, making Jete more and more agitated.

    But thinking of the ns she and her mother had made, Jete found herself growing even more impatient with these three men.

    She looked at them, annoyance creeping into her voice. "Dad''s made enemies out there, Clifford and I have been expelled from school, and now you''re out of a job, too. Tell me, just how do you expect to support me if I stay? You can barely take care of yourselves-am I supposed to sit around eating instant noodles with you?"

    She scoffed at them. "Everything I like is expensive. You can''t afford to keep me, and if you really cared about me, you wouldn''t want me to suffer through hard times with you."

    Hearing Jete''s words, the hearts of the Iverson men finally went cold. Not one of them tried to persuade her to stay after that.

    That very night, Aline signed the divorce papers and left the Iverson home with Jete in tow, moving into anothervish estate in Havencrest.

    Sawyer and his sons sat in the living room that night, unable to sleep, staring into the darkness until dawn.

    When Citrine heard about the recent string of disasters in the Iverson family, she hardly reacted at all. The only thing that caught her off guard was learning that Aline and Jete had moved into the very private mansion in Havencrest that Dick had just purchased.

    When had Aline and Dick gotten involved? She hadn''t expected such an unexpected twist in this new chapter of her life.

    That night, Citrine instructed Carlotta Yarbrough to make sure Aline trended on social media after all, a juicy scandal made for the perfect appetizer to whet the public''s appetite.

    The gossip shot to the top of the trending topics and stayed there all day.

    #After the Iverson family went bankrupt, Mrs. Iverson and her daughter moved into the home of the famous pianist, Dick,te at night.

    #Shocking! By day, Mrs. Iverson ys the dutiful wife; by night, she warms the bed of the piano king.

    #Sawyer''s been yed for a fool.

    Dick was fairly well known abroad, and his reputation as a piano virtuoso made him a familiar name online, so the scandal caught fire immediately.

    Meanwhile, Aline¡ªstill officially Sawyer''s wife¡ªwas ruthlessly exposed by inte sleuths the moment she hit the trending list.

    "This Aline is unbelievable. The Iversons go bankrupt and she''s crawling into another man''s bed before the dust even settles. Shameless."

    "Heard Holbrook died recently, and Mr. Iverson''s been targeted by everyone because of it. Now his wife betrays him too-how much worse can it get?"

    ¡°The Iversons just lost everything, and Mrs. Iverson''s already cheating on her husband. What a piece of work."

    Online, abuse rained down on Aline. Some even dug up dirt from her past,

    iming she once worked in the sex industry, which only made the public''s scorn harsher.

    "Turns out she''s a hooker-no wonder she''s so good at seducing men."

    "Disgusting. Who knows what diseases she''s carrying?"

    "What was Mr. Iverson thinking, marrying a woman like that? Wasn''t he worried about catching something?"

    "And the great pianist he must be blind, bringing home a woman like her."

    Dick nearly lost his temper when he saw the trending posts, terrified his hard- earned reputation would go up in smoke. Left with no choice, he paid a staggering sum to suppress the scandal online.

    Ever since Aline and Jete moved into Dick''s house, their standard of living soared.

 Chapter 256

    Thanks to Dick''s connections, Aline quickly found herself weed into the exclusive circle of wealthy socialites. Her days blurred together in a haze of shopping sprees and leisurely strolls with her newfound friends, all wives of the city''s elite. It was a life of pure indulgence, and she was reveling in every minute of it.

    Jete wasn''t faring any worse. Dick was unbelievably generous with her; whatever caught her eye, he''d buy it for her without a second thought. Since returning home, Dick''s fortune had skyrocketed-his influence and resources seemed almost limitless now.

    After being expelled from Primus Academy, Jete hadn''t been out for more than a few days before Dick pulled some strings and had her quietly readmitted. But this time, instead of slinking back with her head down, she returned to Primus decked out head to toe in designerbels, looking more dazzling than ever. That morning, she had even picked out the most expensive car in Dick''s garage to drop her off at school.

    The moment Jete''s car pulled up at the gates of Primus Academy, the ce erupted in whispers.

    "Holy crap, isn''t that Jete? Wasn''t she expelled? How is she back?"

    "Dude, have you noticed she looks... different somehow?"

    "She''s dressed way fancier, right?"

    "But didn''t the Iverson family go bankrupt? With that kind of entrance, you''d think the queen herself had returned."

    "Haven''t you seen the trending news? Jete and her mom moved into the piano king Dick''s private mansion a few nights ago."

    "She''snded herself a new backer. No wonder she''s living the dream now."

    As the group gossiped, Jete strode right up to them and pped the ringleader hard across the face.

    "Jete, are you crazy? What gives you the right to hit me?" Nic stared at her in disbelief, clutching her cheek.

    Jete looked Nic up and down, her voice slow and deliberate. "Nic, I heard your family is in the middle of a business deal with Mr. Glenwood. What do you think will happen if that falls through?"

    Nic''s face went sheet-white. She rushed to grab Jete''s hand, stammering, "Jete, I''m sorry-I was wrong before, okay? Can you forgive me? We''re still friends, right?"

    Jete yanked her hand away in disgust. "Friends? Please. I don''t associate with paupers."

    She sneered, "Nic, you''re the pauper now."

    With her chin held high, Jete marched into the building. The girls who used to be close with Nic exchanged nervous nces, then hurried after Jete, eager to stay in her good graces.

    At lunchtime, Jete ran into Clifford in the cafeteria.

    Clifford, who had also been expelled, had only managed to stay enrolled because Sawyer had pleaded with Lanny, promising to drop the matter with Holbrook. Lanny relented, and Clifford was allowed back.

    Now, Clifford sat alone at a table, picking at a tray of in vegetables. Laird swaggered over with a group of guys, eyeing Clifford''s meager lunch and bursting intoughter.

    "Hey, everyone, get a load of this! The Iverson family''s gone broke our bro can''t even afford meat anymore, just lettuce and carrots. Tough break, man."

    "Want me to toss you a few bucks so you can buy some real food?"

    The guys who used to be Clifford''s so-called brothers now stood in front of him, grinning maliciously. Laird''s smile turned cold as he dumped his own leftovers straight onto Clifford''s head.

    Gideon, smirking, chimed in, "Bro, maybe we should start calling you ''beggar'' instead."

    The crowd watched, cheering andughing. After all, Clifford had been the school bully at Primus for years, and more than a few of those watching had been on the receiving end of his arrogance. Seeing him finally get a taste of his own medicine was deeply satisfying.

 Chapter 257

    Seeing Clifford mocked by the others, a sh of embarrassment crossed Jete''s face.

    She hadn''t expected to stumble onto this scene in the cafeteria. How humiliating.

    And wasn''t Clifford expelled already? Why was he still showing up at school?

    She used to be close to Clifford-so close that whenever someone saw her, they''d think of him, and vice versa.

    If only the Iverson family hadn''t gone bankrupt, maybe things would be different. But now that they had, staying close to Clifford meant dragging herself down with him.

    The thought made Jete''s expression darken.

    Noticing that no one had spotted her yet, she quickly turned on her heel and started walking in the opposite direction.

    Just as her foot touched the first step down the staircase, a sweet-almost sickeningly so-voice called out behind her.

    "Jete, your brother''s being bullied right in front of you and you''re just going to pretend you didn''t see?"

    A girl stood there, arms folded, the sharp click of her high-heeled shoes echoing with every step.

    It was already pretty empty in the cafeteria, and her voice carried. Before she even finished, people were turning to stare at Jete.

    Someone chimed in, baffled, "Yeah, Jete, your brother''s here and you''re not even going to help?"

    "Look at him¡ªhe''s getting humiliated and you''re just going to walk away?"

    "Miss Iverson''s alreadytched onto the piano prodigy. Like she''d bother with someone like Clifford anymore."

    That wretched little brat.

    Gritting her teeth, Jete drew her foot back from the stairs, turned, and strode straight toward Lindy Swift, who stood in the center of the cafeteria.

    She faced Lindy and, loud enough for everyone to hear, dered, "Lindy, didn''t you used to have a thing for Clifford? If you care so much, why aren''t you helping him?"

    Lindy''s face flushed crimson, her voice suddenly sharp and shrill. "What are you talking about?" she snapped.

    She hadn''t expected Jete to blurt out her old crush in front of everyone-now she was furious, like some humiliating secret had just been dug up.

    With a cold snort, Lindy sneered, "Please. I''m the Swift family''s eldest daughter. Clifford''s just an adopted charity case. Maybe, back then, it didn''t matter, but now that the Iversons are broke? He''s not even fit to shine my shoes."

    Now that the Iversons had fallen from grace, everyone wanted to kick them while they were down. No one wanted to be associated.

    Jete let out augh, her tone dripping with false sweetness. "Since you brought it up, Clifford''s just the Iversons'' adopted son. I''m my mother''s daughter by blood. Why would I stand up for him?"

    She nced at Clifford, who looked utterly defeated. "He''s not really my brother, after all. We were never that close."

    Lindy was left speechless, her mouth opening and closing in silence.

    Clifford, standing nearby, heard every word¡ªhis hearing had always been sharp. Each syblended like a blow.

    For a moment, he froze, as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head.

    Before he could react, Jete continued, "My mother and Sawyer are divorced. I''m with my mom now, Clifford''s with Sawyer. We have nothing to do with each other anymore. So please, stop lumping us together."

    With that, Jete walked away. A few people muttered under their breath about how cold-hearted she was, but with the renowned pianist Dick backing her, no one dared say anything to her face.

    After Jete left, Laird and Gideon kept mocking Clifford for a while longer, but soon grew bored and drifted away.

    When the cafeteria finally emptied out, Clifford slowly picked himself up, brushed what remained of lunch off his clothes, and left in silence.

    The only reason he''d been allowed back at Primus Academy was because Sawyer had begged-swallowing his pride to keep Clifford enrolled. Knowing that, Clifford couldn''t bring himself to fight back.

 Chapter 258

    The restaurant was empty now, save for Amelia Lawson and Citrine.

    "Serves him right," Amelia muttered, rolling her eyes as she watched Clifford''s retreating figure. "Honestly, watching those two siblings tear into each other was the most satisfying thing I''ve seen all week. I swear, it was almost therapeutic."

    Citrine didn''t say anything, but the look in her eyes said enough-she was in a remarkably good mood.

    After leaving the restaurant, Clifford went straight to find Jete.

    He refused to believe what she''d said earlier was true.

    The ssroom was nearly deserted when Clifford arrived. He quickly called Jete out, and the two of them made their way up to the school''s rooftop.

    Once, these two siblings had been close. Now, standing face to face, neither of them spoke.

    Clifford waited for Jete to exin. Jete waited for Clifford to get whatever he needed to say over with.

    But Clifford just stood there, silent. Finally, Jete''s patience ran thin. She frowned, her voice clipped. "If you have something to say, say it quickly. It''s not a good look for people to see us together up here."

    As she spoke, her eyes darted anxiously around, as if expecting someone to appear at any moment and catch them.

    Clifford''s face went pale. Even now, staring the truth in the face, he struggled to ept it. Swallowing hard, he finally spoke, voice strained: "Jete, what you said back in the dining hall... that was all just a lie, wasn''t it?"

    Jete almostughed at how hopelessly na?ve he was. "Clifford, why are you always so gullible?"

    She decided toy it out, blunt and cold. "The Iversons are broke now. If I keep hanging around you, I''ll just be aughingstock. I don''t want to be looked down on. If you really care about me, then from now on at school, pretend you don''t even know me."

    Clifford stared at her, lost for words.

    A long moment passed before he finally found his voice. "Jete... do you remember that time when Dad, Aline, and our brother were all out of town, and I got so sick I nearly died?"

    Jete sighed, exasperated. "I remember. What about it?"

    Clifford''s eyes softened with a flicker of hope as old memories surfaced. His tone was quiet, almost pleading. "You stayed up with me for a day and a night, taking care of me. The doctor said if it hadn''t been for you doing everything just right, I might not have made it. When I woke up, I asked why you''d been so good to me, and you told me I was your brother-of course you''d take care of me. After that, I promised myself you''d always be the most important person in my life, after our brother."

    He looked at her, searching her face. "Jete, I remember everything you said. Please, tell me there''s something else going on. I don''t believe you''d really turn your back on me." His voice broke with emotion.

    Jete just felt annoyed. She couldn''t stand it when Clifford dredged up the past. She''d meant to brush him off, but the thought of him clinging to her at school made her uneasy.

    She had her own ns for the future, and she refused to be saddled with thebel of "Clifford''s little sister."

    Her eyes hardened, and she forced herself to say, "Clifford, it wasn''t me who took care of you back then. It was Citrine the dumb one. Not me."

 Chapter 259

    Clifford stared at Jete, eyes rimmed red. "That''s impossible."

    His mind rushed back to the memory of waking up alone in that room. Desperation edged his voice. "When I first came to, you were the only one there. Later, the housekeeper told me you''d looked after me the whole day and night. And wasn''t Citrine off at the amusement park back then? There''s no way it was her."

    "Is it really impossible, or do you just refuse to face the truth?" Jete rolled her eyes, letting out a short, mockingugh. "Clifford, you Iversons are all so hopelessly na?ve. Have you ever stopped to think? I was always the one being waited on in our house-how would I ever take care of someone else?"

    Clifford''s face drained of color.

    Jete ignored him, her smirk growing colder. "And those housekeepers? They''re paid by my mother, Clifford. Do you really think they''d dare to contradict her?"

    She paused, a bitter amusement flickering in her eyes. "As for Citrine, she was never at the amusement park. In fact, she''s probably never set foot in one her whole life." Jete let out a soft, delightedugh. "Guess where she really was?"

    Clifford frowned. "Where?"

    "That poor thing took care of you for twenty-four hours straight. Her body just gave out-she copsed in her bed andy there for two whole days before anyone even noticed. It wasn''t until Sawyer came home and found her that she was rushed to the hospital. She almost died, you know." Jete''s voice brimmed with perverse satisfaction as she recounted Citrine''s childhood misery.

    "How can you be so cruel?" Clifford stared at Jete in disbelief, his whole body going cold and rigid.

    He remembered that episode all too well-Citrine being rushed to the hospital in a panic. The family had insisted she''d gotten sick from ying outside and catching a chill.

    Back then, he''d thought Citrine was just being dramatic. When he visited her in the hospital, he''d even scolded her, saying she deserved it.

    What a wretched person he''d been.

    As Clifford thought of all the ways he''d treated Citrine over the years, his expression darkened even further.

    Suddenly, a thousand memories crashed down on him.

    He red at Jete with disgust. "Tell me something, Jete-those gaming gift boxes I got every year when I was a kid. Who actually gave them to me?"

    The Iverson family was useless to Jete now-if anything, they were just dead weight. She gritted her teeth and replied without hesitation, "Citrine. Only that idiot would save up all her allowance to buy you that junk. I''d never waste money on cheap stuff like that. If it weren''t for the fact that you looked so happy when you got those gifts, I''d never have let you think they were from me."

    Clifford struggled to keep his voice steady. "And back then, when I was sick-who was it that gave blood for my transfusion?"

    Jete scoffed. "Citrine again. You lost so much blood-I wasn''t about to go through that, it would''ve hurt like hell. But Citrine''s blood type matched yours, and whatever I said, the family always believed me. I told them it was my blood, and you all just believed it. Nobody even checked."

    A leaden weight settled in Clifford''s chest. He couldn''t bring himself to ask any

    more.

    He knew Jete was telling the truth. She''d always loved expensive things, never would''ve given him something cheap, and she was far too delicate to ever endure the pain of donating blood.

    So it had all been Citrine¡ªall of it. Clifford felt ice creeping through his veins.

    God, what had he done all these years?

    Citrine had argued with him about the gifts and the blood donation more than once. And at the time, how had he treated her?

    Clifford almost wished he could forget.

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    But now, every word Clifford had once thrown at Citrine echoed in his mind with painful rity.

    He remembered snarling at her, "Citrine, why do you have to lie all the time? That was a gift from Jete, not you. If you keep insisting, I swear I''ll hit you."

    He remembered another time, his voice sharp, "Citrine, if it weren''t for Jete,

    I''d be done for. If you try to take credit for what she did again, I''ll beat you senseless."

    Clifford remembered how angry he''d been, how he''dshed out and kicked the little girl hard in the stomach.

    Her face had gone pale with pain, but he''d just sneered and used her of faking

    it.

    He''d been so cruel to Citrine.

    No wonder she wanted nothing to do with him. In this moment, everything became clear to Clifford.

    Without thinking, he swung his hand and pped Jete hard across the face.

    Through gritted teeth, he spat, "You''re vile. If it weren''t for you, Citrine wouldn''t have been med and she wouldn''t have been cut off from the Iversons. This is all your fault."

    Jete covered her cheek, but then smiled coldly at him. "Clifford, it wasn''t me who didn''t trust her-it was your family. You all used her, and you even hit her yourself. What, did I force you to do that too?"

    She paused, her voice almost mocking. "But if ming me makes you feel better, go ahead." With that, she turned and quickly left the rooftop, not wanting to be seen alone with Clifford any longer.

    Clifford wandered back to the ssroom in a daze, feeling as if all the strength had drained from his body.

    He had barely sat down when someone kicked his chair hard from behind. Turning around, Clifford found a few old friends eyeing him with obvious malice. "Hey, errand boy, go grab coffees for all of us from that caf¨¦ on North Street," Laird jeered, pulling a few crisp hundred-dor bills from his pocket and tossing them in Clifford''s face. "I want mine before two o''clock."

    Clifford was about to refuse, but the memory shed through his mind he and Laird had treated Citrine the same way once, bossing her around, ordering her to do their bidding, even hitting her when they were in a bad mood.

    For half a year, they''d humiliated her as if she were nothing.

    Now, thinking of all he''d done to Citrine, the sting of humiliation from these guys didn''t feel quite so sharp. Almost in a trance, he bent down, picked up the bills, and tucked them into his pocket.

    He looked at them, imitating the way Citrine used to respond to their ridiculous demands, and said, "I''ll head out now. What kind of coffee does everyone want?"

    The boys exchanged nces, then burst outughing.

    "Clifford''s lost his mind! Look at him, actually agreeing to be our gofer. I thought for sure he''d swing at us after that," one of them cackled.

    "Never thought I''d see the day I could boss Clifford around," Laird crowed. "Guess being adopted really teaches you how to bend. With an attitude like that, you''ll do just fine in the real world."

    Someone else chimed in, a spoiled rich kid who used to get bullied by Clifford and Laird, but now that the Iversons had fallen, the tables had turned. "Since you''re so obedient, bro, I''ll take advantage. My shoes are filthy-how about you clean them up for me? I''ll even pay you-one thousand bucks for a job well done. Bet you''d never have bothered with that kind of pocket change before, but now, it''ll probably cover your expenses for the whole month."

    As soon as he said it, the rest of the ss erupted, egging him on.

    Clifford had never suffered this kind of humiliation before. His face went ghostly pale, fists clenched tight at his sides, ready to explode.

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    For a thousand bucks, Clifford finally caved.

    When it was over, he left the ssroom with his fists clenched so tight his knuckles ached. He rushed all the way to the north side of town,bing the entire block, only to realize there wasn''t a single coffee shop in sight.

    Fury surged inside him. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to tear those guys apart. The thought hit him so hard his face went pale.

    He remembered-back then, he used to pull stunts just like this on Citrine.

    Senior year brought an avnche of worksheets and practice exams. To help everyone prep for the SAT, the school added an extra evening study hall for seniors.

    With the test looming, students spent every waking moment hunched over their books-if they weren''t eating or sleeping, they were doing practice problems. Under that relentless pressure, only Citrine managed to staypletely unfazed. She even t-out refused to attend the extra study session.

    The school always made exceptions for their top students, so she became the only senior excused from the additional study hall.

    Word spread quickly throughout Primus Academy. Some people whispered behind her back, calling her arrogant and predicting she''d fall behind on the next

    exam.

    But when the first round of monthly tests came back, Citrine shut them all up with her scores.

    Someone sighed, "Geniuses really are different. Even skipping a ss every day doesn''t slow her down-she stilles out on top."

    After that, the criticism vanished. No one questioned Citrine''s decision to skip the evening session.

    Friday night meant another Carmichael family dinner.

    Ever since Manley''sst attempt to challenge The Carmichael Group, he hadn''t set foot in the old house. Citrine didn''t expect to see him there that evening-it caught her off guard.

    When Manley spotted Citrine, he looked away, clearly uneasy.

    He couldn''t quite bring himself to face his niece, not after everything that had happened between them, and especially not after Citrine''s chilly reception at The Carmichael Groupst time.

    While he fidgeted and tried to avoid her gaze, Citrine walked right over.

    Manley froze, and the next moment, he heard her clear, ringing voice.

    "Uncle Manley." Citrine smiled at him and took a seat on the sofa across from him, as natural as ever.

    He stared at her for a moment, uncertain. "Citrine, you''re not mad at me anymore?"

    "Why would I be?" Citrine looked genuinely puzzled.

    Manley swallowed hard and forced out, "I almost pushed Raymond out of The Carmichael Group. Don''t you...hate me for that?"

    Citrine shook her head, speaking seriously. ¡°Uncle Manley, that was all just a misunderstanding. Why would I hate you? Even if you had taken over thepany, I wouldn''t have med you."

    "I only tried to stop you because I thought you''d regret it once you knew the truth. But as long as everyone''s cards are on the table, you have every right topete for The Carmichael Group. I support you and Raymond both."

    "You really mean that?" Manley couldn''t help but feel moved by her words.

    "Of course," Citrine said with a warm smile.

    She paused, then added, "I think Raymond feels the same way."

    Right then, Raymond came down the stairs, catching the tail end of their conversation. He smiled faintly and spoke up, "Citrine''s right." That''s my daughter,

    he thought with a swell of pride¡ªshe always understood him.

    Manley was stunned to hear Raymond chime in. He hadn''t expected him to

    agree, and for a second he was at a loss for words.

    The brothers had always been rivals. Sitting down and actually talking things through had never been their style. Remembering their recent conflict, Manley suddenly didn''t know how to face him.

    Citrine took in the awkward silence between them and stood up, a n forming in her mind. "I''ll go check if dinner''s ready."

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    She tossed out a parting remark and disappeared into the kitchen.

    Now, only the two brothers remained in the living room.

    Both of them looked a little uneasy.

    Raymond cleared his throat and, trying to appear casual, sat down exactly where Citrine had been moments before.

    His fingers tapped restlessly against the leather cushion. After a pause, he took the initiative and said, "Citrine really likes you."

    At the mention of Citrine, a rare spark lit up in Manley''s usually indifferent eyes.

    "Of course she does. I''m her Uncle Manley," he replied with a proud nod, his tone full of self-satisfaction.

    Raymond was momentarily taken aback by his brother''s smugness. Every time he saw Manley, he always thought him cold and distant, never imagining he''d have this softer side.

    "You seem pretty fond of Citrine yourself," Raymond observed, noticing just how much more affection Manley showed Citrine than even his own son.

    "Obviously," Manley shot back without hesitation. He nced at Raymond and added, "You may be her dad, but if you ever treat Citrine badly, don''t me me for stepping in and taking her off your hands."

    Raymond''s mood, which had been steady until now, immediately soured at the threat. His face darkened.

    "Don''t even think about it. Citrine is my daughter. Keep your hands off her," he warned coldly.

    Manley snorted. "Then you''d better always do right by her."

    The conversation barely got off the ground before it was already bristling with tension. Sparks seemed to fly in the silence as the brothers red at each other, neither willing to back down nor speak further.

    After a long, heavy pause, Manley finally broke the silence, his voice begrudging, "About what happened before... I was in the wrong. If you wantpensation, just say the word."

    He paused, then continued, "I knowst time you let me win on purpose."

    The Carmichael Group was far too powerful to really lose to Deep Horizon Enterprises. The only exnation was that Raymond had thrown the match-and when Manley got home that night, he realized it.

    Raymond gave a cold chuckle, not bothering to spare Manley''s pride. "Forgetpensation. As long as you stop holding a grudge and keep your nose out of my daughter''s business, I''ll count my blessings."

    Manley: "..."

    11

    Why was Raymond always so damn infuriating?

    As Manley''s surgery date approached, Citrine met up with Travis after school and headed to Viridis Medical Institute together.

    When they arrived, Manley was sprawled out in his hospital bed, picking at his nd patient meal.

    He spotted Travis out of the corner of his eye but didn''t bother looking up.

    Travis could onlyugh in disbelief. He unzipped the bag of fruit he''d brought, picked out the biggest apple, and took a huge, defiant bite right in Manley''s line of sight.

    Chewing furiously, he red at his father. "Hey, Manley, am I even your real son? I''ve just spent all day at school, used my own pocket money to buy you a ton of fruit, and you don''t even say hello."

    Only then did Manley finally lift his gaze. "Travis, are you itching for trouble, yelling at me like that?"

    One withering look from Manley was enough to make Travis fall silent.

    Manley nced from his exasperating son to the mountain of fruit piling up in the corner and felt a headacheing on. He rubbed his temples, his voice edged with irritation. ¡°If I''m not mistaken, this is the eighteenth bag of fruit you''ve brought me this month. Are you trying to stuff me to death so you can inherit my estate?"

    Travis just shrugged,pletely unbothered. "Well, what do you expect? With the pocket change you give me, all I can afford is fruit."

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    After meeting with Patten Reed, Citrine finally headed to Manley''s hospital room.

    The moment she stepped inside, her eyes fell on a mountain of fruit piled high in the corner-clearly it had been sitting there for days.

    She couldn''t help but recall the scene from an hour earlier at the grocery store with Travis.

    Citrine had been staring helplessly at a shelf full of health supplements, uncertain what to buy. With a sigh, she turned to Travis for help. "Hey, what does Uncle Manley actually like to eat? Should we buy him something special?"

    Travis nced at the box of supplements in her hand, then looked up at the price tag-four digits.

    Without hesitation, he took the box from her and put it right back on the shelf.

    Citrine stared at him, confused.

    Travis shook his head earnestly. "Trust me, my dad hates this stuff. No need to waste your money."

    "Then what does Uncle Manley like?" Citrine asked, taking him at his word.

    Travis frowned in concentration, then nodded with conviction. "He likes fruit. Simple, healthy, and not expensive. That''s all he ever wants."

    The seriousness in his eyes was almostical, but Citrine believed him. In the end, they each bought a bag of fruit.

    Now, seeing the fruit mountain in Manley''s room, Citrine froze for a split second. "Citrine,e in!" Manley called out, snapping her back to reality.

    Forcing a smile, she set her bag of apples on the nightstand. "Uncle Manley, I brought you some fresh fruit."

    Manley stared at the bag for a moment, then shed a perfectly convincing smile and nodded. "Fruit, my favorite! You know me so well."

    Travis rolled his eyes. "Wow, could you be any more obvious?"

    Manley ignored the jab and went on, "Hospital food is so nd. I really look

    forward to a little fruit after meals." He shot Travis a meaningful look. "Go on then, wash one of the apples Citrine brought."

    Travis let out a long sigh. "Didn''t I bring fruit too?" He rummaged in his own bag and pulled out an apple.

    Just as he was about to head to the sink, Manley gave a derisive snort. "I don''t want yours. I want Citrine''s."

    Travis stared at him, a shiver running down his spine despite the sweltering summer heat. ¡°You''re ridiculous," he muttered, exasperated. "We bought them from the same store, from the same shelf!"

    Manley was unmoved. "Doesn''t matter. I want the one Citrine picked."

    Travis nearly burst outughing in disbelief. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Hate to break it to you, but I picked out all the fruit myself."

    Manley shrugged, unbothered. "I still want the bag Citrine brought."

    Citrine could only stand there, at a loss for words.

    "Fine, I''ll wash your precious apple," Travis grumbled, shoving his own apple back into the bag a little too forcefully. He stomped over to the nightstand, yanked an apple from Citrine''s bag, and stalked off to the sink.

    Whenever Citrine visited, Manley''s spirits always improved. Even the nd hospital food seemed to taste like a gourmet meal when she was there.

    After lunch, Manley and Citrine got to talking, and once they started, there was no stopping them.

    Citrine''s knowledge seemed boundless-whether Manley brought up history, business intrigue, thetest corporate projects, or even medical issues, she always had something insightful to say.

    And every word carried weight. In just a few sentences, she could pinpoint the ws in a new business venture and casually suggest solutions, as if they were simply having a friendly chat.

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    She had no idea that the solution she''d just tossed out so casually could end up generating a fortune.

    If any publicly tradedpany ever caught wind of this, they''d be lining up to recruit Citrine with sky-high sries.

    The longer Manley chatted with her, the more astonished-and delighted-he became.

    He thought to himself: If this girl ever set foot in the business world, the rest of us might as well pack up and go home.

    Meanwhile, Travis just sat there, listening to them talk for almost two hours. Their conversation sounded like a foreignnguage¡ªhe couldn''t make heads or tails of

    it.

    Finally, he couldn''t help but blurt out, "You guys are speaking anothernguage here! I don''t understand a word."

    Manley didn''t even bother to reply. He nced at his brilliant niece, then at his clueless son, and found himself at a loss for words.

    On the drive home from the hospital, Travis was unusually quiet, a gloomy cloud hanging over him.

    Noticing his mood, Citrine asked gently, ¡°Hey, what''s wrong? Are you upset?"

    Travis hesitated before answering, "Citrine, I didn''t understand anything you and Uncle Manley were talking about back there. Does that mean I''m useless?"

    Ever since he was a kid, Grandpa had always disliked him because he wasn''t good enough.

    "How could you think that?" Citrine said softly. "Everyone has something they''re good at. There''s no reason to feel bad just because you''re not good at what someone else is. You have your own strengths, Travis." She couldn''t truly put herself in his shoes, but she did her best to understand him.

    Besides, in her heart, Travis had always been exceptional.

    Citrine offered him a warm smile. "Your grades have been getting better and better, haven''t they? If you keep this up, you''ll definitely get into a great college. You''re always improving, and don''t forget-you''re amazing at gaming! Didn''t you say you wanted to start a team andpete in the national championships?"

    You''ve been getting better all along.

    Your strength is gaming.

    Travis felt a sudden jolt in his chest. He looked at Citrine''s bright, encouraging eyes and said, ¡°Thank you, Citrine. I promise¡ªI''ll keep getting better."

    As he spoke, he felt a wellspring of determination rising inside him.

    He knew this was motivation.

    A few dayster, it was time for Manley''s surgery.

    Citrine, as the main architect of the treatment n-and because the operation was both risky and incrediblyplex-had to be present in the operating room to direct the procedure.

    That morning, Citrine took the day off from school and headed straight to the hospital.

    She met with Dr. Parrish and the rest of the surgical team, reviewing the critical points of the operation before heading to the locker room to change into scrubs. Meanwhile, Manley was wheeled into the operating room ahead of time. Hey on the table, tense and afraid.

    He dreaded the idea of the surgery failing-of being trapped in that wheelchair forever. Worse, he feared a future where he''d lose all dignity, forced to rely on others for even the most basic needs.

    As hey there, imagining the worst, he was about to close his eyes when suddenly a familiar face appeared above him.

    "Citrine?" Manley was stunned.

    He blurted, "What are you doing here?"

    Citrine pulled down her surgical mask and crouched beside him. "I''m here as the lead consultant. I''ll be guiding the whole procedure in the OR."

    "You?" Manley blinked in disbelief.

    Citrine checked the clock, her voice calm. "I''ll exin everythingter. For now, the surgery''s about to start."

    She looked him straight in the eye, her tone more serious than ever. "Uncle Manley, don''t be afraid. The surgery will be a sess. Trust me."

    "Alright." Meeting her clear, sincere gaze, Manley felt a strange sense of calm settle over him.

    Because the operation was soplicated and carried certain risks-Manley couldn''t be put under full anesthesia. He''d have to make do with just a partial one.

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    When the surgery officially began, Citrine entered the operating room alongside Dr. Parrish and the other doctors.

    Inside, Citrine took on the role of overseeing and guiding the procedure, while Dr. Parrish handled the main surgical work. The rest of the medical team followed their lead with full cooperation.

    Under Citrine''s calm direction, the operation skillfully avoided every potential risk. Five hourster, the surgery concluded withplete sess.

    Once the anesthesia wore off, Manley regained full consciousness.

    As soon as the nurses saw he was awake, they called for Dr. Parrish, the lead surgeon.

    Dr. Parrish entered the recovery room with Patten at his side.

    "Dean Reed, Dr. Parrish." Manley greeted them politely as they came in.

    Dr. Parrish smiled warmly. "Mr. Carmichael, congrattions. The surgery went exceptionally well. Once your incision heals, and after three months of physical therapy, you''ll be able to stand on your own again."

    Hearing these words, a bright light flickered in Manley''s eyes. A wave of joy washed over him, almost overwhelming in its intensity.

    But soon, his thoughts turned to his niece. Manley looked at the two men, his voice serious. "Where''s Citrine? I don''t see her."

    During the surgery, Manley had been under partial anesthesia-he hadn''t beenpletely unconscious. He vividly remembered the image of Citrine calmly giving instructions to the surgical team, her voice steady and precise. Alongside his surprise, pride welled up inside him.

    Trusting a teenager to direct a surgery was no easy thing for anyone, yet Manley had ced his faith in her without hesitation, never once doubting her abilities.

    At the mention of Citrine, Patten smiled reassuringly. "Don''t worry. She''s fine-just exhausted. She''s resting in the lounge right now."

    Only then did Manley finally rx.

    Remembering the bond between Manley and Citrine, Patten''s tone softened a little, his expression kindly. "Mr. Carmichael, you''re truly fortunate to have a niece like Citrine."

    There was genuine admiration in his voice.

    "Yes," Manley nodded, a faint smile crossing his lips. "Having Citrine as my niece really is a blessing."

    Before he could say more, Patten continued, "Honestly, it was thanks to Citrine offering to oversee the procedure in person that everything went so smoothly. Otherwise, there might have been some risks."

    Patten wasn''t sure how much Manley knew about Citrine''s true background, so he left it at that.

    But Manley was no fool. From the very first time he''d met Patten, he''d suspected there was more to his niece than met the eye.

    Whenever Patten talked about Citrine, there was a respect in both his words and his eyes that went far beyond simple friendship.

    Manley couldn''t help but wonder if Citrine''s identity was moreplicated than he realized.

    Still, he didn''t press the issue. Whatever secrets she had were hers to share-or not.

    By November, the weather in Havencrest had grown colder, and everyone had begun bundling up in thick winter coats.

    At the start of the month, an announcement appeared online: Havencrest would

    be hosting a high-stakes esports tournament. Teams could sign up freely, and the winning group would earn a spot in the world championship finals.

    The draw was immense.

    Travis was the first to hear about it, and he hurried to tell Citrine.

    He was torn, though. With midterms right around the corner and the SAT looming, signing up for an esportspetition seemed reckless he could already imagine the criticism about having misced priorities.

    But when Citrine caught the hopeful glint in his eyes, she spoke up first. "You should do it. I support you, Travis."

    Travis looked up at her, astonished. "You don''t think it''s irresponsible for me topete right now?"

    Citrine shook her head. "Not at all. This is your dream, isn''t it?"

    Then, as if a thought struck her, Citrine added, "But before you go, I want you to promise me one thing."

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    "What are your terms?" Travis stared at Citrine, waiting for her answer.

    Citrine replied, "I''ll keep tutoring you every day, but you have to promise your grades won''t slip."

    Relief washed over Travis. He broke into a smile. "Alright, you''ve got a deal."

    A few dayster, Travis and his friends-Sylvan, Carney, and Springer-recruited a new teammate. The five of them started meeting up after ss at a gaming caf¨¦ to practice as a team. Every now and then, Citrine would get a special invitation from the group toe and coach them.

    On Friday, during the family dinner, Weston finally found out what Travis had been up to. He exploded.

    "The SATs are right around the corner and you''re wasting your time on those useless games instead of studying! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Weston''s frustration was barely contained.

    "Grandpa, you just don''t get it. This is my dream." Travis'' expression darkened, but he wasn''t surprised by Weston''s attitude.

    Ever since he was a kid, his grandfather had never been supportive of his interest in gaming.

    Weston folded his arms and scoffed, "Some dream. Travis, have you even done anything worthwhile at Havencrest Technical College all these years? You''re not doing well in school, you refuse to learn the ropes at thepany-and I''m stuck with a grandson who doesn''t amount to anything."

    Travis'' face went pale. He''d been scolded like this before, but never in front of the whole family. Weston didn''t even bother saving him a shred of dignity.

    Just as the argument was about to erupt, Citrine suddenly spoke up for Travis.

    "Mr. Weston, Travis is doing really well. His overall score is already over 500¡ª he''s on track to ace the SATS. As for thepany, it''s just not where his interests lie. You can''t force him."

    "Wait, did you say over 500?" Weston paused, almost thinking she was joking, and let out a disbelievingugh.

    Salome also stared at Travis in shock. Everyone in the Carmichael family knew how poor his grades had been.

    She remembered clearly-back in junior year, there was a test that required a parent''s signature. Manley was out of town, so Travis had brought the paper to her. She''d been stunned: his total score across several subjects hadn''t even reached 100.

    Raymond, meanwhile, stayed quiet. He knew full well that all of Travis'' progress was thanks to his own daughter.

    Seeing Weston''s skepticism, Citrine pulled out her phone and found a photo of Travis''test practice test, along with his final exam results.

    "If you don''t believe me, see for yourself."

    She handed her phone to Weston.

    "Well I''ll be..." Weston stared at the screen, seeing the number five at the start of Travis'' total score. He was genuinely stunned.

    "So you''ve been improving behind our backs?" Salome''s voice was half-shocked, half-proud. "Well then, Auntie owes you a big reward!"

    Citrine watched their amazement and continued, "And gaming isn''t just a distraction anymore¡ªit''s a real profession now. It''s not just about ying for fun. Don''t you remember how much you enjoyed yourself thest time we went to the arcade together?" She listed off several famous professional yers and their aplishments.

    Weston wasn''t particrly interested in the stories of these professional gamers, but at Citrine''s mention, he couldn''t help recalling thest time she''d dragged him to the arcade. He''d actually had a good time, and the memory softened him a little.

    As he nced at Citrine, something shifted in his eyes.

    Why did it suddenly feel like she''d orchestrated that outing just to prepare for this very moment?

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    Weston had always doted on Citrine. The moment he heard her speak up for Travis, most of his anger melted away.

    Citrine, of course, understood this perfectly.

    She strolled over and sat down in front of Weston as if she belonged there, her eyes bright with an easy smile. ¡°Grandpa, Travis really loves gaming. Besides, he''s already good enough to get into college now. Why not let him do what he enjoys? People are only truly happy when they follow their passions."

    Weston''s stern face softened a little at her words.

    Citrine shot a quick nce at Travis before continuing, "I believe in him. I know he''ll make something of himself."

    Weston knew exactly what this girl was up to, but he was helpless against her. In the end, he grudgingly nodded.

    "Hmph. I''ll give him three years. If he can''t achieve something in that time, he''lle back and learn to run the family business. No arguments."

    As soon as Weston relented, hope flickered in Travis''s eyes.

    He promised eagerly, "Don''t worry, Grandpa. I''ll prove myself, I swear."

    Weston''s expression remained stern as he fixed Travis with a hard look-very different from the gentle tone he''d used with Citrine. "Remember this, Travis. No matter what we do, the Carmichaels always strive to be the best. If you can''t make a name for yourself, then don''t go around telling people you''re a Carmichael. I won''t stand for that kind of embarrassment."

    "Yes, Grandpa,¡± Travis replied, nodding earnestly.

    The championship match was set for the end of November, right as the school began its review period for finals.

    But just then, a problem arose: one of the yers Travis had recruited for his team suddenly dropped out, unable to withstand the pressure from his parents.

    With only four yers left, they didn''t have enough people topete.

    As soon as Citrine heard the news, she quickly calmed everyone down. After thinking it through, she made up her mind.

    "Travis, I''ll join the team and y with you," she said, her tone serious-no hint of joking.

    Travis was stunned when he heard this and refused without hesitation. "No way. The SATs areing up! You can''t let this mess with your studies."

    He trusted his sister''s skills after all, she was the top-ranked CrimsonFirst. With her on the team, their chances would skyrocket. But with the SATs so close,peting now could jeopardize her scores. No matter how much he wanted to participate, he couldn''t risk his sister''s future for his own ambitions.

    Sylvan agreed, "He''s right, Citrine. The SATs are just around the corner. What if this affects your performance?"

    Carney and Springer echoed the same sentiment. They were Travis''s friends, but after spending so much time with Citrine and after all the tutoring she''d given them-she was their friend too. None of them wanted to see her make a sacrifice.

    Citrine could see their concern, so she reassured them, "Don''t worry, I know what I''m doing. I promise I won''t let it affect my grades."

    Travis still looked uneasy. "I don''t know, Citrine. This is a big deal."

    "Here, take a look at this." Seeing his hesitation, Citrine opened up a picture from her phone and handed it to Travis.

    "What''s this?" he asked, taking the phone.

    She smiled, "I already got my eptance letter from Crestwood University."

    "What?" Travis''s eyes widened as he looked at the photo.

    Sylvan and the others crowded around, eager to see for themselves.

    On the screen was a clear image of the official Crestwood University eptance letter,plete with the president''s seal. Crestwood''s admissions letters were strictly regted¡ªit was a crime to forge one. No one doubted for a second that it was real.

 Chapter 268

    At that moment, Travis and Sylvan stared at Citrine in utter disbelief, their faces a mirror of shock.

    Crestwood University was the most prestigious college in the country; every graduate walked out an industry star. To be epted without even taking the SAT -now that was impressive.

    "Citrine, when did you get your eptance letter?" Travis asked, the surprise clear in his voice. She''d never mentioned it before; this was the first he''d heard of

    it.

    Citrine thought for a moment. "About a year ago, I think." She remembered she''d just returned from abroad at the time.

    "Then why didn''t you just go straight to college?" Sylvan looked baffled. If he''d gotten an early eptance, he wouldn''t have bothered studying another day, let alone stress over the SAT.

    Both Travis and the others turned to Citrine, equally curious.

    Citrine met their gaze, answering at her own pace. "I just didn''t want to jump into college so soon. I haven''t had enough of high school yet. If I left now, I''d feel like I was missing something. Besides, even if I hadn''t gotten the early admission, I know I''d still get into Crestwood on my own."

    As her words hung in the air, the group just stared at her, speechless.

    Geniuses really did see the world differently-their confidence was in a league of its own.

    Sylvan looked at Citrine with open admiration. ¡°Sis, your life is like a cheat code. It''s exactly the life I always dreamed of."

    "You''re unreal," he went on, shaking his head in amazement. "If I were even half as talented as you, I''d be the happiest kid alive."

    "Getting early admission to a ce like Crestwood... You''ve got to be something special."

    Citrine just smiled at them, then turned to Travis. "So, does this mean I can join you guys for the tournament now?"

    Travis pressed his lips together, unable toe up with any reason to say no. "Yeah, you''re in."

    That evening, the team spent a few rounds practicing, working on their

    coordination. In the end, they voted Citrine as team captain, with Travis as her co- captain.

    The next day, they headed to the tournament venue together.

    When they arrived, Citrine spotted someone she hadn''t expected. From across the room, she saw Clifford standing with a group of four, deep in conversation. She took one look and then coolly turned away.

    The tournament was being streamed live, with viewers all over the country tuning in.

    As the only girl among all the teams, Citrine quickly became the focus of online chatter.

    "Wait, a girl''s ying esports?"

    "She''s probably just there to make up the numbers for Team Six. She looks like a pretty face, not a real gamer."

    "Just watch-Team Six is going to be the first team knocked out."

    Some couldn''t stand the negativity and spoke up for her. "Don''t underestimate women. She''s gorgeous, and you can tell she knows what she''s doing."

    "Yeah, cut out the sexism!"

    Citrine had no idea what was being said online. The host was busy introducing the members of their group.

    When viewers heard Citrine was the team captain, the chat exploded.

    "Wait, am I hearing this right? She''s the captain of Team Six? Did they run out of guys or what?"

    "Are those guys just there to y house with her?"

    Some disagreed. ¡°Doesn''t matter why she''s here¡ªshe''s courageous just for showing up."

    "I''m rooting for her!"

    Meanwhile, Clifford couldn''t tear his eyes away from Citrine in her Team Six jersey. He stared for a long time,pletely lost in thought.

 Chapter 269

    Clifford had nned to win this tournament, secure a spot in the World

    Championships, and only then go find Citrine to apologize.

    When they were kids, he''d promised her: one day, he''d make it to the finals, bring home the trophy, and give it to her.

    He never expected to run into her here or that she''d bepeting, too.

    Did Citrine even know how to y video games?

    As far as Clifford could remember, Citrine''s whole world had revolved around Sawyer, Norton, and himself. The girl he knew never touched a game controller.

    This had to be Travis''s doing. With SATS right around the corner, those troublemakers from Havencrest Tech had somehow roped Citrine into joining their team. If she ended up neglecting her studies because of them, could they really shoulder that responsibility?

    Clifford''s face darkened. He muttered a quick word to his teammates, then stormed over to Citrine''s team''s break area, his jaw set.

    Travis was in the middle of talking to his team when he spotted Clifford approaching. He looked surprised. "What are you doing over here?"

    There''d been bad blood between them ever since a dust-up during a basketball game¡ªand Travis had never liked Clifford, especially since he was Citrine''s former foster brother and, truth be told, hadn''t treated her all that well.

    Clifford ignored him,unching straight into a tirade. "Travis, are you out of your mind? You want to screw up your own life, fine, but don''t drag Citrine into it. If she falls behind in her studies because of you, are you going to take responsibility?"

    Travis almostughed in disbelief. He was nobody''s doormat, and his expression turned cold. ¡°Who the hell do you think you are,ing over here and lecturing me? You''re just her ex-foster brother. That gives you zero right to talk to me like this." He, on the other hand, was Citrine''s actual brother.

    At the word ''ex-foster brother,'' Clifford''s face turned an ugly shade. He shot back, voice low and threatening, "How long have you even known her? Don''t forget, before you came along, Citrine was my sister for years."

    Travis just shrugged. "So what? You''re her ex-foster brother. Citrine only recognizes me as her brother now." He put extra emphasis on the words ''ex-foster brother,'' making sure Clifford felt every syble.

    Before Clifford could retort, Travis cut him off, his tone icy. "Clifford, did you forget how you used to treat Citrine? Seriously, where do you get the nerve to show your face around here? I''m warning you stay the hell away from my sister, or I''ll make sure you regret it."

    He stared Clifford down, his eyes full of wolfish menace.

    Clifford didn''t back down. His voice was firm. "Citrine and I grew up together. She''s my sister, and that''s never going to change."

    At that moment, Citrine walked up, ticket slip still in hand, just in time to hear him. Without hesitation, she cut in, her voice clear and cold. "I''m not your sister." "Citrine, I''m sorry." Clifford''s face went pale. Thinking of all the things he''d done in the past, he suddenly found himself unable to meet her eyes.

    "Are you feeling alright?" Citrine blinked, thrown. Clifford''s favorite pastime used to be forcing her to apologize to Jete. For someone as self-righteous as him to suddenly apologize... her first thought was that he''d lost his mind.

    Clifford managed a bitter smile. "Citrine, I really am sorry. I know now that it was you who sent me that game console, you who gave blood for me, you who took care of me when I was sick. I''m sorry-I was wrong about you."

    Ever since learning the truth, memories of his childhood with Citrine kept flooding back. Back then, they were so close that even Jete couldn''t get between them.

    The more he remembered those good times, the more it hurt.

    Citrine had no idea how he''d found out the truth-and, frankly, she didn''t care.

 Chapter 270

    She looked at the man in front of her, a flicker of contempt in her eyes. "You''re saying all this just to get me to say ''it''s okay'' and forgive you, aren''t you?"

    Clifford knew that was impossible, but before he could reply, Citrine spoke again.

    "All right."

    A spark of hope lit up in Clifford''s eyes. He was just about to say something when Citrine continued, "But I have one condition."

    "What is it?" Clifford thought to himself that no matter what Citrine asked, he''d agree-even if it cost him his life. As long as she could forgive him.

    He looked at her expectantly, silently urging her to go on.

    But the moment she spoke her next words, the anticipation in his eyes vanished. His face went pale.

    Citrine met his gaze, her words merciless. "If you promise never to show yourself in front of me again, I''ll forgive you."

    "Citrine, don''t do this to your brother, please?" Clifford stood there, stunned, forcing a bitter smile.

    "You''re refusing?" Citrine lost her patience when he didn''t answer. "Well, if you can''t agree to my condition, then I''ll have to ask you to leave our team."

    Clifford pressed his lips together, casting a desperate nce at Travis. "Citrine, the SAT''sing up. You can''t keep wasting time with these losers. Go home and study, will you?"

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh at his nerve. "My friends aren''t losers. Their scores are higher than yours, by the way."

    She gave a cold, dismissive snort. "Why don''t you spend less time worrying about me and more about your own grades? Mine are none of your business."

    Seeing the disgust in her eyes, Clifford bit back his words, afraid of making things worse. In the end, he said nothing more.

    After Clifford left, Travis made sure his sister was truly unbothered before finally rxing.

    Earlier, Citrine had drawn Team Three''s number, which meant they''d be facing Team Three in the tournament.

    All five members of Team Three were professional yers, and plenty of people watching were sweating bullets for Citrine''s group.

    Someone in the livestream chatmented, "Team Six is toast. They''re up against a bunch of pros-may as well just forfeit now."

    But neither Citrine nor Travis seemed fazed by drawing such tough opponents.

    Citrine had always been confident in her skills, and Travis and the others trusted themselves too. The most important thing in a match was to stay calm-no matter who you faced-otherwise you''d just end up boosting your opponent''s morale and crushing your own.

    The tournament officially began, and Citrine''s team and Team Three were the sixth pair to take the stage.

    As soon as both teams appeared, the inte erupted.

    Of all today''spetitors, Citrine''s team was the least favored online, while Team Three was the crowd favorite.

    The captain of Team Three was Knox, the leader of a well-known club team, and his four teammates were all pros as well.

    "Nice to meet you," Knox greeted Citrine''s group warmly as soon as he stepped onstage, showing no sign of looking down on them for being young. In fact, he was so polite, his eyes held a hint of an older brother''s fondness for the younger generation.

    Citrine couldn''t help but feel a flicker of goodwill and nodded politely in return. Both teams took their ces at their stations.

    Per the tournament rules, no one was allowed to use alternate ounts, so Citrine had no choice but to log in with her main profile.

 Chapter 271

    "No way, is that really CrimsonFirst at the top of the leaderboard? I must be seeing things."

    "You''re telling me that high schooler is CrimsonFirst? Seriously?"

    "But wasn''t everyone saying online that Crimson First was a pro gamer from some club? How... how is she suddenly a high school student?"

    "Maybe she''s just using her dad''s ount? What if CrimsonFirst is actually her dad?"

    "That''s impossible. The tournament requires real name registration for all yer ounts. There''s no way she could even enter otherwise."

    "I can''t believe it. I''ve been following Crimson First, the number one yer, for three years¡ªand it turns out she''s just a high schooler. That means she''s been a legend since she was, what, fourteen?"

    "She''s gorgeous, too. What am I supposed to do? I think I just became an even bigger fan."

    "I knew it! She''s stunning, and you can tell just by watching her y-she''s insanely skilled."

    "With looks like that, she could coast on her appearance, but instead she relies on her skill. No wonder everyone loves CrimsonFirst."

    ...

    Meanwhile, Clifford stared at the huge screen, his eyes locked onto the game ID and ranking disyed on Citrine''s interface. He was stunned.

    In his memory, Citrine had never even picked up a game controller. Clifford never once imagined that the idol he''d admired for years-Crimson First-could actually be Citrine.

    He looked at the girl sitting onstage, her face unreadable under her headphones, but her eyes focused, sharp, and absolutely serious as she stared at the screen.

    For the first time, she seemed to shine with her own light.

    It hit Clifford then-he''d never truly known his own sister. He didn''t know her hobbies, her passions-nothing. No wonder Citrine had cut him out of her life so decisively. He must have hurt her deeply as a brother.

    As soon as Citrine revealed her ID, the opposing team panicked.

    Just a moment ago, Knox and his teammates were confident, but when they saw CrimsonFirst on the other side, they instantly deted.

    Knox, the team captain, kept his cool. He rallied his four teammates, "Don''t get discouraged. Let''s give it our all. We''re up against the club''s biggest legend. Even if we lose, there''s no shame in it. Getting topete with our idol-now that''s something we''ll be bragging about for ages."

    "Knox is right. I can''t believe I get to face my idol like this. I''m honestly so happy right now."

    "Same here. I need to record a little highlight reel after this. This is one for the books."

    "When the match is over, I have to get her autograph. I''m gonna hang it right by my bed and make the rest of the club jealous."

    ...

    True to his role, Knox''s words quickly lifted everyone''s spirits. In fact, they were more fired up than before.

    Knox smiled, watching his teammates recover. Inside, he was just as excited as they were, but as captain, he had to keep it together.

    Though Citrine had revealed herself as CrimsonFirst, most of the audience¡ªboth online and in the arena-were still fixated on her stunning looks, almost forgetting the weight of her name.

    Thatsted only until the match began. The moment Citrine started ying, all eyes snapped to her gamey.

    As team captain, Citrine fired the first shot-one bullet, and a mini-boss went down. The next second, a second, then a third kill followed.

    Travis, Sylvan, and the others were no slouches either; their marksmanship was sharp, and their teamwork with Citrine was seamless.

    As the match moved into theter stages, everyone''s understanding of Citrine''s skills deepened.

    With the whole arena watching, Citrine took out three major bosses-each with a single shot to a critical weak point¡ªall within five seconds.

    "No way, that''s CrimsonFirst for you. I''m floored."

    "That speed, that aim-who else could nail three bosses'' weak spots in five seconds? She''s in a league of her own."

 Chapter 272

    "No one in the entire server can beat CrimsonFirst."

    "No wonder they''re ranked number one-a living legend! Smart and skilled, both at once."

    ...

    Meanwhile, Travis and Sylvan''s gamey was catching the audience''s attention,

    too.

    Quite a few viewers quickly became fans of their unique style.

    Inside the Carmichael Mansion, Weston, Raymond, Salome, and Vicente Carmichael sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch, their eyes glued to the live- streamed match.

    Weston pped the table so hard in excitement that he nearly crushed the mug in his hand. "That''s my granddaughter, making the family proud!"

    He nced at the scrolling chat on the screen. "By the way, do you all know what CrimsonFirst is?" he asked, turning to the others.

    Raymond, who had done his homework, answered without hesitation, "She''s ranked first out of everyone who ys this game." There was a hint of pride in his eyes as he spoke.

    Weston grinned so wide his eyes almost disappeared. "Outstanding. She really is good at everything." He didn''t really understand much about leaderboards, but hearing "number one" was more than enough to make him beam with pride.

    Raymond echoed with a smile, "Of course. My daughter''s the best at whatever she puts her mind to."

    The two of them were so delighted, anyone watching might have thought they''d been the onespeting.

    Salome chuckled at their antics, pride swelling in her own chest. Thinking of Travis, she cleared her throat. "Dad, you know, Travis really has a knack for these games, too. Maybe you could go a little easier on him? He''s grown up now. Has his own pride."

    Weston huffed and shot her a look. "He''s... passable, I suppose." But he didn''t press the point.

    Salome knew her father had taken her words to heart, even if he''d never admit it out loud.

    When the match ended, Citrine''s team took a clean victory. Even though Team Three lost, they went down fighting and earned everyone''s respect-both teams put on a great show.

    As soon as they left the stage, Knox and his teammates made a beeline for Citrine''s squad.

    "Knox! What are you guys doing here?" Citrine was surprised to see him and the others trailing behind.

    Knox scratched his head, looking bashful. "Um... Miss Carmichael, you''re kind of a legend for all of us at the club. Would you mind signing an autograph for us?¡±

    Citrine immediately understood and smiled. ¡°Of course. Do you have a pen and paper?"

    Knox''s face lit up as he quickly handed her a pen with both hands.

    He thenid out several of the club''s jerseys, smoothing them out in front of her. "Could you sign here?"

    Citrine took the pen and, with a few swift strokes, finished signing.

    Knox and his teammates carefully folded up the jerseys, then stood in front of her, gazing at her with the star-struck looks of diehard fans.

    Seeing that they didn''t move, Citrine paused and asked, "Is there something else?"

    Knox, still shy, ventured, "Ms. Carmichael, we''re huge fans. Would it be okay if we got a photo with you?"

    "Of course," Citrineughed, amused by their eager expressions.

    Once the impromptu photo session wrapped up, Knox and his friends left, clutching their phones and practically buzzing with excitement. They could already imagine the envy on their friends'' faces when they showed off the photos.

    That afternoon, Citrine''s team went on to win every match they yed, sweeping through thepetition.

    The next day marked the grand finals. Only two teams remained: Citrine''s and Clifford''s.

    Everything woulde down to thisst showdown.

 Chapter 273

    The next day, the two teams faced off. Citrine''s team swept the match in under ten minutes.

    Throughout the game, Travis had his sights locked on Clifford, relentlessly targeting him with every move. It was obvious-he had it out for him.

    Their victory secured first ce, which also meant they''d earned a ticket to the national championship. Travis, atst, received Weston''s formal approval.

    The nationalpetition would take ce after the SATS, so Citrine threw herself entirely into studying.

    By mid-December, Havencrest Primus Academy held its first round of mock exams. Unsurprisingly, Citrine once again scored just shy of perfect, maintaining her top spot in the senior science ss.

    The school made a point of praising Citrine''s achievement, awarding her a three- hundred-dor schrship as encouragement.

    After the assessments were over, the school board decided the annual Christmas G would go ahead as usual, hoping the festivities would help students rx before the final SAT push.

    It was thest Christmas G of high school, and this year, parents were invited to attend. Other Havencrest schools without their own celebrations were also wee to join in the fun.

    Since it was theirst chance, students eagerly signed up for performances¡ª including Citrine.

    She yed it safe and volunteered to give a speech.

    That evening, while eating dinner with Raymond, Citrine hesitated, turning over her words in her mind, ready to speak up. But before she could, Raymond''s phone rang.

    She caught only his end of the conversation: "Next Friday? I''m avable. I''ll be there."

    Whatever she''d meant to say was quietly swallowed back.

    On Sunday, when Citrine visited Carmichael Mansion, she casually mentioned the g. Weston immediately said he wanted to attend, so she handed him an invitation.

    Hearing he was the only grandparent invited, Weston was thrilled. He got up at dawn Friday morning, fussing over his appearance.

    "How do you think this suit looks?" he called from the walk-in closet, holding up a suit for the butler''s inspection.

    ¡°Hm, no, this one''s too shy," Weston muttered, shaking his head before the butler could answer, and returned the suit to its hanger.

    He picked out another. "What about this one?"

    The butler nodded earnestly. "Sir, you look distinguished in anything."

    Weston frowned. "You don''t get it. This is my first time going to my granddaughter''s school event. I have to look my best make sure everyone knows not to underestimate her."

    He measured the next jacket against himself, then rejected it. "No, too stiff."

    Weston spent nearly two hours just picking out an outfit. In the end, he settled on a tasteful, understated zer that struck the perfect bnce between elegance and simplicity.

    The butler thought the ordeal was finally over, but it had only just begun.

    Next, Weston fussed with his hair.

    He spent a good while styling it, still unsatisfied. "Maybe I should call in the styling team to fix me up properly," he mused, half to himself.

    It wasn''t long before he was scrutinizing his face in the mirror. "Are these wrinkles getting worse? Do I look old? Maybe I should have something done-tighten things up a bit, look younger for the big day?"

    The butler stood by, at a loss betweenughter and despair. This isn''t a blind

    date, he thought. Why all this fuss about a facelift? That''s a bit much.

    In the end, Weston called in a stylist to tidy up his hair, but after the butler''s gentle insistence, he gave up on the face-lift idea.

 Chapter 274

    At exactly half past five, the Carmichael patriarch arrived on schedule at Havencrest Primus Academy, settling into the seats reserved for Citrine''s family.

    Elsewhere, in the section for ss Ten parents, the two seats with Jete''s name on them were already taken-Aline and Dick sat side by side.

    Jete gazed at her parents with conviction. "Mom, Dad, I signed up for the speech contest this time. I''m definitely going to win first ce."

    Her grades had slippedtely, but public speaking had always been her forte. This year, she was confident she''d finally outshine Citrine.

    Aline beamed. "Go for it, Jete. I believe in you."

    "So do I." Dick''s voice was warm with pride.

    He hadn''t been there for much of Jete''s childhood, but he''d always known she had a gift for speaking.

    Right now, Dick and Aline sat shoulder to shoulder, while Jete knelt in front of them, bubbling with excitement. From a distance, the three looked like a picture- perfect family.

    Across the hall, in ss Two''s section, Sawyer watched the scene unfold, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

    He was Jete''s real father-yet Dick had taken his seat.

    Sawyer''s expression darkened as he watched the three of them, so close, so at ease¡ªlike a real family.

    Clifford, noticing where his father''s gaze hadnded, scoffed. "Dad, stop staring. Even if you went over now, Jete would just think you were ruining their happy family moment."

    Sawyer pressed his lips into a thin line, but said nothing.

    Soon, the lights dimmed and the holiday program began. The students had prepared all sorts of acts-singing, dancing, skits, poetry readings. The parents were dazzled by the variety, though some, especially those with high expectations, began to frown. They saw little value in these lighthearted performances and wondered why there weren''t more academic contests.

    Just then, Jete walked onto the stage.

    She wore her school uniform, and the moment she began speaking, her clear, fluent English rang out across the auditorium.

    Compared to the previous entertainment acts, the parents were clearly more interested in an academicpetition¡ªespecially one that showcased public speaking skills.

    Jete''s performance had them all thinking, *Now there''s a student to be proud of.*

    When she finished, the hall erupted in apuse.

    Others from the speech group followed her act, but with Jete setting the bar so high, the rest felt like mere afterthoughts.

    Meanwhile, at the Carmichael Group''s headquarters, Raymond was gathering documents for an important client meeting when he realized he''d left a critical folder back at Carmichael Manor. He immediately called the housekeeper.

    He''d barely finished dialing when the housekeeper answered, sounding puzzled. "Sir, aren''t you at Miss Citrine''s Christmas program?"

    Raymond paused, caught off guard. "What Christmas program?"

    The housekeeper hesitated a moment. "There''s a Christmas party at Miss Citrine''s school tonight. Parents were invited. Miss gave the invitation to the old master-he left early for the school. I thought you''d gone as well..."

    Before he could finish, Raymond had already ended the call.

    "Adler, get me a parent pass to Havencrest''s Christmas G. Now," Raymond barked, pulling on his suit jacket.

    Adler nced nervously at Raymond, sensing trouble. His voice wavered. "But, President Carmichael, you''re due to meet that important client soon... Are you really leaving now?"

    "What about the client?" Adler fretted, thinking of the notoriously difficult guest.

 Chapter 275

    Without a second thought, Raymond said, "If they really want to work with us, they''ll reschedule for tomorrow morning. If not, forget it."

    His words hung in the air as he shot a warning look at Adler. "Listen up, Adler. No matter how urgent the work is, nothing takes priority over my daughter. In my book, everythinges after Citrine."

    "Yes, sir. I understand," Adler replied at once, hurrying off to carry out Raymond''s orders.

    A few minutester, with the invitation finally in hand, Raymond rushed over in a fluster.

    Inside, Citrine was seated beside Weston, chatting with him as they watched the show. When the two of them spotted Raymond, both their eyes went wide in surprise.

    "What are you doing here?" Weston and Citrine blurted out at the same time.

    Raymond ignored his father. He looked at his daughter, his tone softening. "Of course I''d be here for Citrine''s big moment."

    Then, with a scowl, he turned to Weston and spoke as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Dad, you should move over."

    Weston looked utterly scandalized. "Raymond, have you lost your mind? You''re telling your own father to give up his seat?"

    "What''s next? When I die, do I have to give you my spot in the family plot too?" Weston was so worked up he could hardly believe his ears,unching into a tirade at Raymond.

    "That won''t be necessary," Raymond replied matter-of-factly, as if his logic was wless. ¡°I''m Citrine''s father. The parent''s seat is rightfully mine."

    Weston snorted and red at him, his mustache bristling. "I''m Citrine''s

    grandfather. Seniority counts for something. This seat suits me just fine, thank you very much."

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh at the two of them bickering like schoolboys over a chair.

    She''d only requested one ticket for a parent''s seat, thinking that would be enough -never expecting her dad to show up too.

    Now she had a headache. While the two "children" argued, Citrine slipped away and found her teacher, asking for another slip of paper. She taped it to the backup chair next to Weston''s.

    When she finished, she turned to her squabbling rtives. "Stop fighting. There''s another seat right here with your name on it. Now sit down."

    Raymond straightened his jacket and finally took his seat, ready to watch the show.

    On stage, the poetry recitation group was still performing.

    One by one, the students took their turn, but none could measure up to Jete. Some parents in the audience were growing tired and starting to nod off.

    Meanwhile, a group of students from the neighboringnguage high school whispered among themselves in the back row.

    "Aren''t Primus Academy''s students supposed to be top-notch? These speeches are brutal-one''s worse than thest. Don''t they have anyone left who can actually speak?"

    "Seriously. Even our freshmen could do better than this."

    "And it''s just one basic speech after another. You''d think they''d mix it up with something in anothernguage-anything! This is so boring, I''m starting to regreting here."

    "Those clunky phrases in their scripts? We stopped using those back in ninth grade."

    "I came to check out the so-called geniuses at Primus Academy and maybe pick up a thing or two, but all I see are bookworms. Judging by these speeches, they must''ve worked their tails off for weeks, but honestly? Even our own freshmen''s ss presentations are better."

    "Only that first girl-what was her name, Jete?-was watchable. The rest are just awful."

    Jete, overhearing the foreignnguage school students''ments, could barely contain her pride.

    And when she realized Citrine would be up next, a flicker of anticipation shed in her eyes.

    Meanwhile, over in ss Eight-

    "I can''t find my speech. Has anyone seen it?"

    Not long ago, Citrine had lost her script. Now she was forced to go around, asking everyone one by one.

 Chapter 276

    After searching high and low, the speech was nowhere to be found.

    The news made Weston furious. He shot up from his seat, his face red with anger. "How could there be such malicious people at this school? Someone dares to pick on my granddaughter? I''ll make sure they regret it!"

    "Dad, calm down," Raymond said, firmly pushing his hot-tempered father back into his chair as he stood up himself. His expression was grim. "I''ll handle this."

    Just then Citrine returned and walked in on the scene. With a sigh, she pressed down on Raymond''s shoulder, making him sit. "Both of you, stay put. Wait until thepetition''s over to investigate."

    Raymond frowned, worry etched in every line of his face. "But your turn''sing up soon. How are you supposed to go on stage without your speech?"

    Weston''s scowl deepened. "Exactly. There are so many people here today. Whoever did this is just waiting to see you humiliated."

    The thought of someone deliberately setting Citrine up made both father and son seethe with rage.

    Citrine looked at the two men and spoke steadily. "Don''t worry. I won''t let them get the better of me."

    Soon, the host called Citrine''s name.

    Without hesitation, Citrine rose and walked confidently onto the stage.

    She took the microphone from the host, but instead of beginning her speech straight away, she smiled and announced, "Just a moment ago, my speech was stolen."

    Her words had barely left her lips when a chorus of mocking voices erupted from students of other schools. "Did you really lose it, or are you just scared to perform and making up excuses?"

    "Yeah, if you want to chicken out, just say so. No need to me a lost speech!"

    "I bet you''re just afraid your speech is awful, so you''re hiding behind some fake story."

    Even some parents in the audience frowned at Citrine''s words.

    One leaned over to their child and whispered, "Don''t be like that girl. If you''re not up to it, just own up. It''s better than lying about losing your work."

    Another muttered, "Unbelievable. I need to make sure my kid stays away from her. If she''s lying like this at her age, what will she do when she''s older?"

    The murmurs grew louder; most of the audience was clearly siding against Citrine.

    Jete, watching from the crowd, was nearly giddy with excitement, just waiting for Citrine to embarrass herself.

    She was savoring the moment when Citrine spoke up again.

    "Today, I''ve heard a lot of people question the quality of education at Primus Academy, calling us just a bunch of bookworms. Well, I''m here to set the record straight: every student at Primus Academy is outstanding."

    Her voice rang out as she turned to address the students from St. Gabriel''s Language High. "Now, I''ll be giving a speech in eighteen differentnguages. I hope younguage majors are ready to be impressed."

    The room exploded into noisy disbelief.

    In the St. Gabriel''s section, students broke intoughter, jeering openly.

    "Oh wow, she''s picking a fight with our school? Where''s this confidenceing from?"

    "Eighteennguages? She must be delusional!"

    "Primus Academy kids really talk big. They can''t even speak their ownnguage properly, let alone eighteen others."

    "Even we wouldn''t dare boast like that."

    Some of the Primus Academy parents huddled together, whispering anxiously.

    "She''s got guts, I''ll give her that. But is she ready to eat her words?"

    "I just found out she''s top of her grade. Impressive, but eighteennguages? That seems impossible."

    One parent, who happened to be a professional interpreter, watched Citrine from the audience, skepticism written all over her face. "Kids say the craziest things when they''re upset. I''ve been an interpreter for years and I only know fivenguages."

    "We''ll see how she gets out of this one."

 Chapter 277

    Sawyer watched Citrine on stage, his palms sweating with nerves on her behalf.

    As far as he could recall, Citrine had never studied a foreignnguage in her life. She''d made a bold im stepping up there he was sure she was about to embarrass herself.

    Under a barrage of skeptical stares, Citrine suddenly began to speak.

    The moment she opened her mouth, the entire audience was stunned by her fluent,manding delivery. Each word rang out clear and powerful, her presence as formidable as the President of the Federated States of Magnolia addressing the nation.

    Teachers, parents, and students-all were left gaping, especially those from the prestigiousnguage academy, their jaws nearly hitting the floor.

    The sharper listeners quickly realized Citrine was introducing Magnolia''s local holidays and social customs-not the dry, textbook facts everyone expected, but fascinating, unfamiliar details ryed as lively stories. Her narrative was engaging, full of color, expanding the students'' knowledge far beyond the ssroom curriculum.

    Now, when people looked at Citrine, their eyes had changed. Gone was the earlier skepticism-now there was only admiration, mingled with a tangle of emotions they couldn''t quite name.

    The teachers from Primus Academy could barely contain their delight, whispering excitedly amongst themselves.

    "Thank goodness we have such a gem in our school," one murmured, "otherwise, who knows how badly those brats from thenguage high school would have mocked us at this year''s Christmas g."

    "Citrine really put us on the map today!"

    "We owe this to the eighth grade teacher-Ms. Helen, how did you manage to train such an outstanding student?"

    "Yes, Ms. Helen, do share your secret. We could all use some tips!"

    Helen lifted her chin, basking in the praise. With an air of practiced nonchnce, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and replied, "Oh, it''s nothing really. I just believe in encouraging well-rounded development. Of course, Citrine is exceptionally bright and hardworking, too."

    Everyone thought Citrine had already exceeded all expectations.

    But then, to their amazement, she switched seamlessly from English to French, then to Italian, German, Japanese, Korean, Portuguese, Finnish...

    No matter thenguage, her pronunciation was wless.

    The further she went, the harder it became for teachers, parents, and students to keep up. Phones came out, trantion apps flickering to life, and only then did they realize she was introducing each country''s customs and etiquette in its native tongue.

    "This kid is extraordinary-no wonder she''s top of the senior ss at Primus Academy."

    "I''ve never seen anything like it. What sort of family raises a child like this?"

    "She''s more professional than any interpreter I know. When she graduates, I might be out of a job!"

    Across the auditorium, thenguage academy students were shell-shocked.

    "I take back everything I said before," one muttered. "Clearly, Primus Academy has its own prodigies."

    "I have to admit, I''m impressed."

    "I owe the Primus students an apology. We were out of line."

    When Citrine finished, the room erupted in thunderous apuse.

    Weston and Raymond were on their feet, pping wildly.

    Neither had ever imagined Citrine knew eighteennguages.

    Weston was beside himself. "That''s my granddaughter! She''s made me so proud!"

    With unrestrained enthusiasm, he thumped the shoulder of the parent in front of him, not caring whether they knew each other or not.

    The parent turned around, bewildered, only to see Weston beaming and pointing

    at Citrine on stage. "See her? That''s my granddaughter. Impressive, huh?"

 Chapter 278

    The man''s eyes lit up as soon as he heard the old gentleman''s words, and suddenly he couldn''t stop talking. "So you''re that student''s grandfather! You look so distinguished and aplished-it''s no wonder you''ve raised such an exceptional child. I''d love to hear your secret. Did you enroll her in lots of after- school programs? Come on, share some tips with me!"

    Weston basked in the praise. Smiling, he replied, "I didn''t sign her up for anything. My granddaughter is naturally gifted-she''s practically self-taught."

    Meanwhile, across the room, Sawyer and Clifford watched the radiant young girl on stage. Father and son stood in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

    When Citrine stepped off stage, both Weston and Raymond gazed at her with pride sparkling in their eyes.

    Raymond asked, "Citrine, when did you learn all thosenguages?"

    Weston also looked at her, clearly eager to hear the answer.

    Without missing a beat, Citrine replied, "Oh, I just picked them up online when I was bored."

    "Just picked them up?" Weston was genuinely astonished.

    He asked again, "Which website?"

    Citrine thought for a moment, then answered without hesitation, "That C-site, you know?"

    Both Weston and Raymond were momentarily stunned. As far as they knew, C- site was filled with free courses-basic stuff, the kind of content kids who couldn''t afford expensive sses would download. It wasmon knowledge that while plenty of people used it, most of the free courses were rudimentary and not especially thorough. It was rare to find anything truly useful there.

    Neither of them had ever heard of anyone reaching Citrine''s level using just C- site.

    Weston''s lips twitched as he asked, not quite convinced, "Citrine, are you saying those free courses actually got you this far?"

    Citrine shook her head and shared her experience openly. "Of course not. Once I hit a teau, I had to dig in and figure things out myself. If I got stuck, I''d search for answers online, and if I had the chance, I''d travel to countries where thenguage was spoken to practice in person."

    Weston couldn''t fathom how his granddaughter had managed to be so aplished on her own-he knew for certain he could never have achieved the same. Back when he was trying to learn foreignnguages, he''d hired several professional tutors and still only managed to pick up a few with considerable effort.

    Weston had always focused on grooming his heirs, hoping his two sons would be as outstanding as he was. Now, suddenly, he found himself with a granddaughter who was far more exceptional than any of them. Weston nced at Citrine, the affection in on his face. "Citrine, you really are the pride of our family. I finally have a worthy sessor."

    Raymond, standing nearby, couldn''t help but feel a pang. Was he really so inadequate?

    Far away in the hospital, Manley-the second "inadequate? son-let out a resigned sigh of his own.

    Citrine shot Raymond a sympathetic look, then smiled modestly. "Honestly, I just know a little bit. Nothing special."

    Weston burst outughing. "That''s my granddaughter-humble, just like me."

    Raymond couldn''t help but wonder, Were all kids these days this modest?

    Soon it was time for the award ceremony. After the dance and music prizes were given out, it was finally the speech group''s turn.

    As expected, Citrine took first ce.

    Down in the audience, Jete gritted her teeth in envy.

    Dick, never one to see his daughter upset, quickly tried tofort her. "So what if she won an award this time? There''s nothing for her to brag about. You''re the best in my eyes, sweetheart. When this is all over, I''ll take you shopping."

 Chapter 279

    "Thank you, Dad." Jete forced a stiff smile, her lips barely curving.

    Even though she heard Dick''sforting words, they did little to ease the knot in her stomach. No matter how she tried, she couldn''t shake the heaviness inside.

    Up on stage, Citrine stood out like a ring spotlight-so dazzling it almost hurt to look at her.

    If only she would just disappear.

    Jete''s gaze darkened as she thought bitterly: If only that fire years ago had finished her off for good.

    Meanwhile, Citrine raised her trophy, her lips curled in a polite, confident smile as she graciously epted the apuse and admiration of the crowd.

    When her eptance speech ended, she walked over to the emcee, drawing curious looks from everyone. No one knew what she whispered to him, but a momentter, he stepped aside and handed her the podium.

    "Thank you," Citrine said courteously.

    She quickly tapped out a string of code on theputer, and in an instant, the giant screen behind her switched to the auditorium''s security camera feed.

    The simple fluidity of her actions stunned the teachers, students, and parents below.

    "Oh my god, am I seeing this right? She just hacked into the school''s surveince in a few keystrokes!"

    "She''s still in high school? That''s insane. I''ve been a hacker for ten years and I couldn''t pull that off so easily."

    "I already thought she was a genius for her grades and fluency in so manynguages, but I never expected her to break into the school''s system like it was nothing."

    "She''s absolutely incredible. At this rate, when she grows up, the rest of us are going to be left in the dust."

    Meanwhile, Jete was starting to panic as she realized what Citrine was about to do.

    Her frantic gaze flickered to the stage just as Citrine began to speak. "Before my speech tonight, my notes disappeared. I''d like to check the school''s security footage in front of everyone. I''ve already notified the principal and received his permission."

    "So, let''s find out together-who took my notes?"

    Just as Citrine reached to hit ''y,'' Jete suddenly shot up from her seat.

    The auditorium fell silent. Every head turned to stare at her.

    "No! You can''t do this-it''s selfish! You''ll ruin the school''s reputation!" Jete''s voice came out shrill and piercing with panic.

    People in the crowd winced, frowning at her outburst.

    "Who is that girl? What''s her problem? Yelling like that scared the hell out of me."

    "She''s wearing a Primus Academy uniform too-where are her manners? Someone could have a heart attack from that racket."

    "Honestly. What kind of parents raise a kid to act like that? Does she think this is a barnyard, shouting in front of everyone? So rude."

    Jete heard the harsh whispers, her hands clenched so tightly at her sides that her knuckles turned white.

    Swallowing her humiliation, she forced herself to repeat her protest, trying to sound righteous andposed. "Citrine, this is our school''s Christmas G. There are students and parents from other schools here. Airing dirtyundry in public-have you thought about what this could do to Primus Academy''s reputation?"

    Citrine looked down at her, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I said I wanted to catch the thief, Jete. Why are you so upset? Unless... you''re the one who took my notes?"

    As soon as she said it, all eyes turned to Jete, some suspicious, some merely curious.

    "You... what are you talking about?" Jete''s eyes clouded, her voice trembling with emotion.

    "Why so nervous, Jete? I was only joking." Citrine hadn''t known who stole her notes, but after Jete''s outburst, she was pretty sure she''d found her answer.

 Chapter 280

    He confessed without even being pressed-what a loser. Not just wicked, but dumb, too.

    Jete was seething, barely able to keep herposure. Swallowing her indignation, she forced herself to continue, "Citrine, you don''t air your dirtyundry in public. No matter what happened, you shouldn''t broadcast your personal issues in front of so many people. What if this damages the school''s reputation? You need to think of the bigger picture."

    Dirtyundry?

    Citrine let out a short, incredulousugh. "My stuff was stolen. I''m the victim here. How is that airing dirtyundry?"

    She genuinely couldn''t fathom Jete''s logic.

    After a brief pause, Citrine added, "And by the way, Jete, were you not listening when I spoke earlier? The principal already approved what I''m doing. I don''t need your blessing."

    She nced around, her voice carrying. "Besides, I don''t consider the parents of Primus Academy or the students from Havencrest''s other high schools to be outsiders. They all have every right to know what''s going on here good or bad. Parents deserve to know what happens at school so they can look out for their kids, and when they care more, incidents like bullying be much less likely. As for the students from other schools, we''re all part of the Havencrestmunity. Any one of you could join Primus Academy someday, and you have every right to know what really goes on here, so you can protect yourselves too."

    Citrine''s words struck a chord among the parents from Primus Academy and the visiting students from other schools.

    "She''s absolutely right. How is this dirtyundry? As if we''re strangers or something."

    "I like the way this Citrine thinks-she makes everyone feel like family."

    "She''s got real vision. If our daughter gets to study alongside kids like her, she''s bound to be someone remarkable."

    "Actually, now that she mentions it, I rememberst week when my daughter came home with blood on her uniform. She said she just fell, but she looked so off. I was busy with work and didn''t think much of it, but now I realize how careless I was. I need to talk with her when I get home."

    The students from other schools were floored by Citrine''s speech.

    When she said they were part of the family, the crowd from Havencrest''s various high schools felt a warm glow inside.

    Primus Academy was the top school in the area. Its students were infamous for looking down on everyone else, and the other kids had never really liked those self-important bookworms. Most of them only came to this year''s Christmas G out of curiosity¡ªto see if the "geniuses" could put on a decent show. None of them expected to hear something like this.

    Now, they found themselves both moved and a little conflicted.

    They never imagined that the Primus kids actually saw them as part of the samemunity.

    "From now on, Citrine from Primus Academy is my hero."

    "She''s amazing. I''m a girl and even I''m crushing on her!"

    "We used to make fun of Primus for being all talk, but she never held it against us. She treats us like her own. That''s real ss."

    "Other people throw mud at her, she nts flowers in it. I''m honestly touched. I could cry."

    "I don''t care

    because of her, I''m making sure my little brother and sister try out

    for Primus next year."

    "Hey, what kind of sibling are you? Why should your dream be their burden? Don''t treat them like cannon fodder!"

    Citrine spoke up again, ¡°This isn''t dirtyundry. It''s the truth. So why don''t we all pitch in and catch the thief together? That''s way more fun."

    She paused, a yful glint in her eye. "Let''s call it a special Christmas twist." With that, Citrine pressed y.

 Chapter 281

    The big screen flickered to life, showing footage from five o''clock. At that hour, parents and students hadn''t arrived in full; a steady trickle of people drifted in and out of the auditorium.

    Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first. But at precisely 5:10, someone appeared onscreen, moving furtively toward Citrine''s seat.

    She nced left and right, making sure no one was watching, then quickly reached into Citrine''s bag and snatched something out-nobody could quite see what. In a panic, she hurried away.

    As she left, she cast a nervous nce over her shoulder. That single nce was all it took her face was caught clearly for everyone to see.

    "Jete!" someone gasped. "No wonder she was the loudest just now-she''s the thief!"

    "She always acts so meek and fragile. Who would''ve thought she was stealing behind everyone''s back?"

    "She''s never been trustworthy. Have you all forgotten how she tried to me Citrine for pushing her down the stairs?"

    "I just can''t believe how scheming she is. Thank God Citrine''s so capable-if any other kid lost their speech notes right before going onstage, they''d be humiliated for life. That kind of thing leaves scars."

    "Vicious, really. I never realized Jete was that kind of person."

    "After the Iverson family went bankrupt, she even turned her back on her own brother. She''s always been ungrateful. And let''s not forget how good Clifford was to her growing up."

    All around, people red at Jete''s family, muttering curses under their breath. Jete sat frozen, her face drained of color.

    Aline, frowning, tried to shield herself with her handbag and whispered, "Jete, how could you be so careless this time?"

    Dick looked equally mortified. He''d just returned to the country, hoping to make a ssh, and now he was being dragged into this humiliating mess. And of all people, it was his own daughter. No matter how furious he was, he couldn''t bring himself to scold her in front of everyone.

    As it became obvious their whole family was about to be infamous, Jete couldn''t take it anymore. She burst into tears and bolted for the exit.

    But before she could escape, Citrine''s voice rang out over the microphone, stopping her in her tracks. ¡°Running away, Jete? Don''t you have anything you''d like to say to me?"

    At that moment, Citrine stood tall and gracious, while Jete looked just like a cornered rat, desperate for a way out.

    She hesitated in the aisle, caught between leaving and staying, her face dark with shame. The audience''s eyes were cold, filled with contempt, but she swallowed her humiliation and forced herself to speak. "I''m sorry, Citrine. I made a terrible mistake. I apologize."

    With a show of magnanimity, Citrine replied, "It''s all right. I believe Jete will change for the better."

    Jete seethed inside, but with so many people watching, she had no choice but to grit her teeth and choke down her resentment. "I promise I''ll change."

    Citrine didn''t spare her another nce. With the matter settled, she stepped gracefully off the stage.

    As she walked away, a triumphant smile lingered on her lips. She knew the crowd

    was singing her praises, while Jete faced nothing but ridicule.

    At that moment, Citrine exuded a radiant, effortless confidence-a presence impossible to ignore.

    The entire audience remained captivated, eyes never straying from her.

    "Citrine is incredible. The way she handled that¡ªwhatposure! We could all learn from her."

    "No kidding. She''s not just bold; she''s kind. Most people would''ve been furious, but she let it go with just an apology. She''s basically an angel."

    "And Jete? What nerve. She tried to run instead of owning up-disgusting." "With that attitude, she''ll never amount to anything."

 Chapter 282

    "I really don''t know what kind of parents raise a kid like that¡ªabsolute

    troublemaker. If that''s how they turn out, they''ll only cause chaos in the worldter

    on."

    ...

    Jete listened to the crowd''s scornful words until she couldn''t bear it anymore. She finally burst out of the room.

    Meanwhile, Clifford nced at Sawyer, his tone bleak. "Dad, do you see it now? That''s who Jete really is."

    Sawyer pressed his lips together, at a loss for words. After all, the security footage didn''t lie.

    When the Christmas party ended, school let out for winter break.

    Winters in Havencrest were bitterly cold, and for several days, Citrine barely left her bed. She felt down and listless.

    She hated winter more than anything.

    For people struggling to get by, winter was a nightmare. Citrine remembered all too well how, as a child, she didn''t even own a proper coat. In the dead of winter, she washed her face and cooked with icy water, her hands always swollen and raw with chilins.

    No matter how cold it got, she had to go out and scavenge for scrap to survive. One wrong move and she could have frozen to death on the street.

    Winter gave her life, and just as easily, threatened to take it away.

    Citrine stayed in this half-awake haze until the day before New Year''s Eve.

    That day, she wanted nothing more than to hide away in her room, but Raymond told her there was a Carmichael family gathering that evening. She had no choice but to go.

    When they arrived at the venue, Citrine froze in surprise.

    She turned instinctively to Raymond. "Why are the lights off?"

    Raymond didn''t answer.

    A secondter, the room suddenly lit up with a wash of colorful lights, and a gentle birthday song began to y.

    Now Citrine could see everything clearly.

    Every corner of the room was filled with fresh flowers, and on thewn, there were dazzling arrangements shaped like trees-trees made entirely of cash, each one artfully constructed. The whole ce looked warm and beautiful.

    All the tables, chairs, and furniture were custom-made, exuding luxury. It must have cost a fortune.

    Citrine''s hands tightened nervously as she nced at Raymond. "I''ve never celebrated my birthday before."

    Raymond ruffled her hair affectionately. "How could a child go without a birthday? Today is your eighteenth, Citrine. I missed the first seventeen, but from now on, I''ll be here for every single one."

    "All of us-every member of the Carmichael family is here tonight," Weston added, nodding for once instead of bickering with Raymond.

    Looking at Weston, Salome, and Manley, Citrine suddenly broke into a smile.

    "And of course, your friends are here too," Raymond added, just as Travis, Amelia, Carlotta, and the rest came in, wheeling an enormous birthday cake.

    "That''s right, Citrine. You have us now."

    "We''ll always be here for you."

    "Happy birthday, Citrine. Wishing you joy and peace every year."

    Apart from her first year after Sawyer brought her home, Citrine had never celebrated her birthday.

    Her birthday always fell just before the New Year, but Jete would insist on dragging Sawyer off on some family vacation right before the holiday. By the time they returned, Citrine''s birthday would have already passed.

    She never imagined she''d get to celebrate her birthday a second time in her life.

    "Thank you, all of you." Looking at the Carmichaels and her dearest friends

    gathered around, Citrine felt something stir inside her.

    Travis set his hands gently on her shoulders and guided her toward the towering

    cake. "Birthday girl, make a wish and cut the cake."

    "I''m your big brother, so the first slice has to go to me!" he announced.

    "No way, I''m your grandfather. First piece is mine!" Manley chimed in.

    "Hand it over¡ªI''m not giving up my slice to anyone!" Salome protested, grinning. Surrounded byughter and the cheerful bickering over the cake, Citrine felt, for the first time, like she was truly part of the celebration. The noise didn''t bother her; it only made her feel warm and wee.

    Her heart brimmed with an unfamiliar, peaceful happiness.

    At that very moment, fireworks suddenly burst in a riot of color outside the window.

 Chapter 283

    Raymond had reserved the most luxurious ocean-view suite at the Havencrest Grand for the celebration¡ªa space offering an unobstructed panorama of the fireworks disy outside.

    It was breathtaking. Citrine had never seen fireworks so magnificent in her life.

    She watched them intently, the corners of her lips lifting in a genuine smile, her eyes sparkling with unfiltered joy.

    Meanwhile, her family and friends quietly captured the moment¡ªsome with cameras, others simply storing the memory in their hearts.

    While Citrine gazed at the sky aze with color, all eyes in the room were fixed on her.

    When the fireworks faded, a new spectacle appeared: thousands of helicopters forming glowing words in the night sky.

    "Citrine Carmichael, may you always be safe and happy."

    Simple, heartfelt wishes-nothing extravagant, just pure sincerity.

    At the same time, the Carmichael Group released a new video online.

    In the video, Citrine looks up at the fireworks, her face half-illuminated by the bursts above.

    @The Carmichael Group: Wishing our little princess a lifetime of happiness. @CICI

    The blessings didn''t end there. CICI Group posted as well: Wishing Citrine peace and joy every year. @CICI

    Viridis Medical Institute: Happy birthday, dearest Kane. @CICI

    JR Group: Our little princess is another year older may you always be this happy. @CICI

    CICI Media Co.: Happy eighteenth birthday! @CICI

    Deep Horizon Enterprises: My niece, may you always know happiness. Uncle Manley will always love you. @CICI

    Havencrest Primus Academy (official): Happy eighteenth to our undefeated legend-good luck with your SATS! @CICI

    Havencrest Technical College: Happy birthday to our youngest mentor-may your SAT scores reach the top! @CICI

    ...

    On her eighteenth birthday, Citrine received public well-wishes from leaders across every corner of Havencrest. With just a nce at her birthday, one could see the immense power behind her.

    In a single day, the @CICI ount gained tens of millions of new followers. The social media site nearly crashed from the traffic.

    "She''s the real deal. This is what true privilege looks like."

    "Who else could charter thousands of private helicopters for her birthday? Who else could get all of Havencrest''s most powerful figures to send their blessings?"

    "I''m in awe. I was lucky enough to witness it from outside the venue that night-it was absolutely dazzling."

    "With this kind of reputation, if I were her, I''d walk through Havencrest like I owned the ce."

    "These big shots just spoil her so much."

    "She''s absolutely captivating."

    Citrine''s eighteenth birthday was nothing short of spectacr.

    She received a mountain of gifts, and it wasn''t untilte that evening that she

    finally had a chance to open them.

    But nothing surprised her quite like Raymond''s present.

    He had given her eighteen gifts in total.

    Each one came with a handwritten card.

    Citrine opened them one by one.

    The first was a tiny gold locket.

    "My dearest daughter, today marks the day you entered this world. I know your first year must have been so hard, and I''m sorry I didn''t know you existed. This little locket is my way of making it up to you. I hope you''ll always be safe."

    The second was a Rubik''s Cube.

    "I''ve heard my daughter is gifted and always loved math. I''m giving you this puzzle, hoping you''ll never lose sight of your passion."

    The third was a miniature toy car.

    "You probably never had one of these growing up. I know I can never give you back your childhood, and this is a littlete, but I still wanted you to have it."

    The fourth was a smart watch.

    "You would have been starting grade school around now. It''ste, but I hope that from now on, no matter what happens, you''ll always call me if you need anything."

    For her fifth birthday, Raymond gave Citrine an oddly shaped pearl from the seashore.

    "My precious girl, I hope you grow as freely as this pearl."

    As Citrine read each card and unwrapped each gift, her eyes grew misty.

    ...

    She had opened all the gifts meant for her years before eighteen.

 Chapter 284

    Citrine paused, momentarily stunned when she saw her eighteenth birthday present.

    The gift sat on the table, hidden beneath a scarlet cloth, its shape a mystery.

    Carefully, Citrine drew back the fabric, inch by inch, until she revealed the little creature inside the cage.

    Almost as if it sensed her presence, the tiny animal looked up and let out a sweet, affectionate meow-like it was trying to win her over.

    Citrine''s heart melted instantly.

    She reached for the card attached to the cage and read it quietly.

    "Happy eighteenth birthday, Citrine. This kitten is for you. I hope that with her by your side, you''ll find more happiness every day."

    Finishing the note, Citrine tucked it away, cherishing the gift. Only then did she turn her attention to settling in the kitten a little Maine Coon.

    Citrine had always been powerless against adorable animals.

    Thankfully, Raymond had already anticipated everything: there was cat litter and food ready, and he''d even gone so far as to remodel a spare room for the kitten,plete with a climbing tree, a plush cat condo, and a scratching post.

    Citrine adored the kitten at first sight and named her Happy.

    But Raymond soon found himself second-guessing this decision.

    Lately, Citrine seemed to spend all her time at home ying with the kitten or fussing over her, barely giving her doting father the time of day.

    Was it possible he''d been upstaged by a cat?

    It wasn''t just Raymond who felt this way; even Weston and Travis started to resent the new family member.

    How could a mere cat be stealing all their attention?

    Whenever Travis and Weston came over to hang out with Citrine, the kitten would flopzily onto her back, shamelessly exposing her belly to lure her owner, or cling to Citrine''s pant leg with her fluffy paws, meowing for attention-doing everything to keep Citrine''s focus on her.

    Raymond, Weston, and Travis could only look on, speechless as this devious little cat wormed her way deeper into Citrine''s heart. One day, the three of them decided to lock the kitten in her room before Citrine got home, hoping to stop her from monopolizing all the affection.

    But as soon as Travis picked her up, the kitten hissed and, with surprising agility, leapt up and swiped at him.

    Her ws caught him square on the nose.

    The scratch wasn''t deep-just enough to look ridiculous.

    "You little brat! What''s your problem? Do you want to see how mad you can make me?" Travis was seething, one hand pped over his nose, the other jabbing at Happy as if ready for a showdown.

    Before he could say anything else, Weston cut in, "Careful. That''s Citrine''s precious baby. If you so much as touch a hair on her head, she''ll be heartbroken."

    Travis let out a long, defeated sigh. ¡°So what, I''m not even as important as a scruffy, smelly cat?"

    Raymond didn''t hesitate. "No, you''re not."

    Weston nodded, deadpan. "He''s right. In this house, Citrinees first. The cat''s a close second. She''s basically our resident feline overlord."

    "Fine, fine. She''s the boss." Travis huffed and dropped onto the couch, thoroughly annoyed and refusing to spare another nce at the so-called cat overlord.

    That evening, Citrine came home to find Travis sitting on the sofa wearing a surgical mask. She couldn''t help but ask, "Why are you wearing a mask inside? Isn''t it ufortable?"

    "No, not at all. It''s just... perfect." Travis forced a dryugh, absolutely unwilling to admit he''d been scratched by the cat in a failed attempt to assert dominance. Thest thing he wanted was for Citrine to find out he''d tried to bully her beloved pet.

    Weston and Raymond struggled to keep straight faces, but neither gave him away.

    Citrine didn''t press further.

    It wasn''t until dinner, when Travis finally had to take off the mask, that Citrine caught sight of the three neat scratch marks shed across his nose.

    She stared in disbelief. "What happened? Did you get into a fight with Happy?"

    Raymond nced at Travis and replied calmly, "It wasn''t a fight. He just got his butt kicked by Happy, fair and square."

 Chapter 285

    Travis looked at Citrine with a pitiful expression, then nced over at the innocent, wide-eyed cat. He pressed his lips together, resigned.

    "I''ll make her apologize to you," Citrine said, trying not tough at how both amused and sympathetic she felt.

    After all, even pets had to take responsibility for their mischief.

    Putting on her sternest face, Citrine lowered her voice. "Happy,e here."

    The little cat heard Citrine''s call and immediately perked up, her tail twitching with excitement. She bounded onto Citrine''sp, rubbing her soft, furry head insistently against Citrine''s arms.

    Citrine couldn''t help but give Happy''s fluffy face a gentle-but firm-squeeze. "You can''t just bully my brother like that. Go apologize to him."

    Everyone in the room assumed Citrine was just ying along, not really expecting the cat to understand a word. After all, it was just a cat-how could it possibly know what was being said?

    But the moment Citrine gave the order, Happy let out a soft meow, hopped onto the coffee table, and trotted straight over to Travis.

    Convinced she was about to scratch him again, Travis reflexively shielded his face with his hands.

    When nothing happened, he slowly peeked out from behind his fingers.

    The little Maine Coon sat up on the table, tilting her head before raising one paw and folding it in an unmistakable "sorry" gesture¡ªa move so adorable and absurd that Travis''s irritation evaporated instantly.

    He couldn''t help bursting out with augh. "Alright, alright. Seeing as you know you were wrong, I''ll let it slide this time."

    Satisfied, Happy dropped her paw, gave her big tail a flick, and strutted back to settle on Citrine''sp.

    "That cat''s got some magic in her she actually understands what you''re saying," Weston muttered, still surprised by the cat''s uncanny intelligence.

    Citrine hugged Happy close, issuing a warning: "No more scratching people, understood?"

    Happy: "Meow!"

    Weston: "..."

    Raymond: "..."

    Travis: "..."

    As winter break came to an end, school ramped up the pace of review. For the next few months, Citrine studied day and night, rarely leaving her room.

    She was so small to begin with, and now, buried in books every day, she''d lost several pounds.

    The Carmichaels were beside themselves with worry. Every day, Weston made sure the family chef sent over hearty soups and nutritious dishes, prepared with all sorts of wholesome ingredients.

    Watching his daughter grow thinner by the day, Raymond sometimes wished he could take her exams for her, but he knew he couldn''t. The only thing he could do was bring her a warm ss of milk every night before she went to sleep.

    Luckily, the months flew by, and before they knew it, June had arrived the time for the SATS.

    That morning, the entire Carmichael family apanied Citrine to the test center. Even Manley, still in physical therapy, made a rare appearance.

    "Citrine, don''t get nervous during the test."

    "Citrine, did you remember your pencils and erasers?"

    Everyone crowded around her, fussing with worry, while Travis stood off to the

    side, watching the scene with a wounded look.

    When the well-wishes finally died down, he piped up, ¡°Grandpa, Uncle, Aunt, Dad -am I invisible over here?"

    "Can''t see you at all," someone replied with a straight face.

    "If you can get the top score, maybe we''ll shine a shlight on you next time." Travis: "..."

    Clearly, Citrine was the family jewel. He, on the other hand, was just a weed no one noticed.

    But then he remembered-even the family cat outranked him. Somehow, that made things a little easier to ept.

    The SAT took two full days. When Citrine walked out of the test center on the second afternoon, she felt as if the tightly wound string in her mind had finally snapped loose.

    She knew, deep down, that her life from now on was destined to be bright and beautiful.

    Byte June, the SAT results were released.

 Chapter 286

    That morning, the entire Carmichael family gathered in the living room at the crack of dawn, all waiting for Citrine to check her test results.

    When Weston and Manley arrived, their first question for Raymond was, "Where''s Citrine?"

    Salome nced around the empty living room. "Ray, the SAT scores are out today. Has Citrine checked hers yet?"

    Raymond, calm as always, poured himself a ss of water. "Not yet. She''s still asleep."

    Salome couldn''t help but worry, seeing how rxed her brother was. "Ray, aren''t you even the least bit anxious? This is a big deal."

    "Don''t worry. Citrine knows what she''s doing." He''d asked her about it the day she finished the exam, and all she''d said was, "It''s in the bag." Raymond had always trusted his daughterpletely, and this time was no different.

    He nced at the others, his tone warning, "And none of you are to bother Citrine. She didn''t sleep wellst night and needs to catch up on rest."

    No one had anyints about that.

    Meanwhile, Weston shot a stern look at Travis. "You-go check your results. If you didn''t get into college, I''ll break your legs myself."

    Travis gulped, intimidated by his grandfather''s re.

    Resigned, he sat down at the familyputer, typing in his name and candidate number.

    The moment his scores appeared on the screen, Travis shot to his feet, barely able to contain his excitement.

    "I got in!" he shouted.

    Weston, Manley, and the rest immediately crowded around him.

    When they saw the score-612-they were all stunned.

    It should have been a moment for celebration, but aside from Raymond, everyone''s expression darkened.

    Weston looked at him sternly. "Travis, be honest. Did you cheat?"

    Salome frowned. "Come clean now, or it''ll only be worseter."

    Manley''s face was clouded with suspicion. "You didn''t cheat just so you could get that car from my garage, did you?"

    Even though Citrine had shown them Travis''sst test-where he''d scored in the 500s-they''d chalked it up to dumb luck, never really believing he had it in him.

    Travis looked at all of them, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Seriously? No cheating. I earned this myself."

    Even Raymond couldn''t stay silent anymore. He stepped in to vouch for Travis. "He didn''t cheat. Citrine''s been tutoring him since junior year. If he hadn''t managed this score, all her hard work would''ve gone to waste."

    That exnation finally settled the room. The Carmichaels gradually epted the surprising truth.

    Weston cleared his throat, trying to hide his awkwardness. "You did well this time, but don''t getcent. Keep it up. Don''t embarrass the Carmichael name."

    Everyone in the family looked at Travis and smiled.

    They all knew how hard it was for Weston to say something like that.

    It meant he''d finally epted Travis as his grandson.

    For the first time, Travis felt what it was like to be the pride of the family. It was a great feeling.

    He kind of liked it.

    All thanks to Citrine-without her, he''d probably still be a good-for-nothing cker.

    As the clock crept toward nine, Weston and the others grew increasingly restless and anxious.

    Travis could see right through them.

    He grinned. "I know Citrine''s candidate number. Let me check her results for her."

    "Why didn''t you say so earlier? Go on, check!" The family crowded around him, suddenly bursting with anticipation.

    Without hesitation, Travis keyed in Citrine''s details and hit enter.

 Chapter 287

    The Carmichaels'' hearts leapt into their throats.

    And, of course, the inte chose that moment to freeze.

    Their nerves stretched to the breaking point-even Raymond looked rattled.

    "This crappy wifi!" Travis grumbled, logging out and back in, his frustration clear in every movement.

    This time, the page loaded smoothly.

    But the results screen stayed nk.

    Instead, a single line appeared at the bottom: ced within the top 50 in the state. Full results avable on the 23rd.

    Weston stared at the screen, eyes wide, then burst out, "Top fifty in the whole state! No wonder she''s my granddaughter-our Carmichael family is going ces!"

    "The kids in our family really are something else," Weston crowed, beaming with pride. They didn''t even know Citrine''s exact score yet, but just making it into the state''s top fifty was enough to set everyone''s hearts racing. After all, the Carmichaels had never been famous for academics; business was their game. No one in the family had ever ranked this high before.

    Just then, Citrine, still groggy from sleep, stumbled downstairs after a quick wash ¡ªand walked straight into chaos.

    Weston, Raymond, and Travis were dancing around the living room in pure celebration.

    Stone-faced, serious Weston was twisting and shimmying with even more enthusiasm than the rest, looking for all the world like an overgrown, wild-eyed snake.

    Citrine stopped in her tracks and stared, torn betweenughter and disbelief.

    At the same time, Happy-the family''s cat-came out to liven things up, but the wild scene made her fur stand on end. She bolted up the stairs and jumped into Citrine''s arms, a bundle of nerves.

    So there they stood, girl and cat, frozen on the staircase, unsure whether to join the madness or make a discreet retreat.

    It didn''t take long for Raymond to notice his daughter hovering above them. "Citrine, you''re up!"

    Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and turned toward her.

    Weston''s grin stretched so wide his eyes nearly disappeared. Waving her over with both hands, he called, "Citrine,e down here!"

    Citrine descended, clutching the trembling cat.

    The Carmichaels looked like they''d just won the lottery-faces lit up, energy buzzing, joy overflowing.

    Citrine, still trying to piece things together, barely had a moment to react before Travis hauled her onto the sofa. "Sis, do you know where you ranked in the state this time?"

    She barely batted an eye. "Probably top fifty, if nothing unexpected happened," she answered calmly, tossing out the bold im as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

    Travis stared at her in disbelief. "How do you know that?"

    A smile tugged at Citrine''s lips. "I knew everything on the exam. Of course I was confident."

    Then she turned to Travis, her smile widening. "Congrattions to you too, big brother. You did great."

    Travis looked at her like she''d just performed a magic trick. "How do you know my score?"

    Citrine grinned. "Your principal messaged me. Sylvan and the others did well too."

    Amelia and Travis had scored about the same.

    Just then, the butler entered with a crowd in tow.

    The principal and several school officials swept into the house, a congrattory banner in their hands and joy shining on their faces.

    The principal barely made it through the door before he burst outughing. "Citrine! Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael! We''re here to bring you wonderful news!"

    He was practically vibrating with excitement. "Citrine scored a 750 on the SAT¡ª the highest in the state! She''s this year''s top science student. It''s a huge honor for our school to have such a talented student."

    Weston and Raymond''s smiles stretched even wider.

    Weston couldn''t contain his delight. Heughed loud and free. "Citrine, did you hear that? Top science student in the whole state!"

    Citrine just nodded, unfazed, as if it was nothing to be surprised about.

    Suddenly, one of the school officials seemed to remember something and frowned. "By the way, Citrine, there''s a crowd of reporters waiting outside the school. They want to do an exclusive with you."

    Citrine''s brow furrowed. She turned to the principal. "Please turn them down for

    me."

    The principal smiled. ¡°Of course, no problem."

    The Carmichaels admired how modest and low-key their daughter was. No one objected.

    Meanwhile, outside Primus Academy, a bright red banner had been hung: Congrattions to Citrine Carmichael for scoring 750 on the SAT and being named the state''s top science student.

    To celebrate, the school set off several strings of fireworks in her honor.

    When it came time to choose her university, Citrine didn''t hesitate-she applied directly to Crestwood University.

    Travis, Amelia, and Sylvan, their scores a bit lower, applied to Havencrest University, staying close to home.

    Citrine heardter that Jete hadn''t done well on the exams. Originally, she could''ve gotten into a second-tier college in Havencrest, but she stubbornly applied to a third-rate school in Crestwood just to follow the crowd.

 Chapter 288

    These things didn''t matter to Citrine.

    That summer, on the Carmichaels'' advice, Citrine underwent surgery and finally regained full hearing in her left ear.

    As her hearing returned, the memories of that terrible fire faded, growing more distant in her mind.

    September arrived, and with it, the start of a new semester at Crestwood University.

    The entire Carmichael family refused to let Citrine go alone for orientation. Against the collective will of her family, she had no choice but to agree to theirpany.

    Citrine had enrolled as a pre-med major, with a second degree in literature.

    The moment she stepped onto Crestwood''s campus, she was swept into a crowd of new students.

    At eighteen, Citrine had truly grown into herself-her skin was luminous and fair, her features sculpted and striking, every detail so captivating it was hard to look away.

    She caught eyes everywhere she went, from both guys and girls.

    At the registration desk, a tall boy-easily over six feet-strode straight toward her. "Hey, do you need help finding your dorm?" he offered.

    Citrine had just opened her mouth to politely decline when Raymond, her father, stepped in with a stony expression. He shot the boy a cold look and said curtly, "No need. We can see just fine."

    His daughter had barely reached adulthood, and already the wolves were circling.

    "Sorry, I-sorry," the boy stammered, realizing toote that Citrine was hardly alone. Embarrassed, he apologized several more times before slinking away, cheeks flushed.

    The Carmichaels escorted Citrine all the way to her dorm. Once inside, Raymond set about wiping down her desk and chair.

    "Citrine,e sit and rest," he insisted, gently steering her into the chair.

    Then, together with Travis and Salome, he set to work cleaning the room-making the bed, wiping down the wardrobe, hanging clothes, arranging toiletries.

    Citrine and Weston had little to do except offer the asional bit of direction.

    In one corner, Citrine''s new roommates watched the whole scene unfold, silently wondering which family had sent their pampered princess to college.

    Once the room was spotless and the time came to say goodbye, Weston and Raymond were struck by an unexpected emptiness.

    Citrine had always been at their sides. Now, with her heading off to college, home would feel very different. The thought left both men with a bittersweet ache.

    After repeating their instructions and goodbyes several times, the Carmichaels finally left, reluctantly.

    As soon as they were gone, Citrine''s three roommates converged on her. Ingrid, her eyes never leaving Citrine, introduced herself. "Hi! I''m Ingrid."

    She gestured to the other two girls. "That''s Lisa, and that''s Jane."

    Citrine took them in, offering a polite nod. "Nice to meet you. I''m Citrine Carmichael."

    Ingrid, as outgoing as theye, pulled up a chair and plopped down right in front of Citrine, staring unabashedly. "Citrine, you''re gorgeous. And you smell so nice!"

    Citrine hesitated, not sure how to respond. Was it normal to feel a little intimidated?

    Jane shot Citrine a smile. "Don''t mind her. Ingrid''s a total sucker for a pretty face -she can''t help herself around beautiful girls."

    "Uh, thanks," Citrine replied, nodding.

    Lisa, still thinking about the earlier scene, asked with open admiration, "Citrine, were those all your family who came with you?"

    Citrine nodded, a glimmer of pride flickering in her eyes. "Yes, they''re my family." "Wow, your family spoils you so much. I''m seriously jealous," Lisa sighed.

    Thinking of her loved ones, Citrine felt a gentle warmth in her heart. "They really are wonderful."

    Ingrid jumped in, ¡°Oh, by the way, Lisa and I are both majoring in literature. What about you guys?"

    Jane answered, "I''m pre-med."

    Citrine smiled. "Same here. I''m majoring in pre-med, with a second major in literature."

    "That''s so impressive, Citrine-double-majoring as a freshman!" Lisa said.

    Citrine smiled again, sincere. "I just really love literature."

    ***

    Girls'' friendships are simple.

    Within an hour, the four of them were already chatting like old friends.

    It didn''t take Citrine long to get a sense of her new roommates'' personalities.

    Ingrid was friendly and outgoing, with a weakness for beauty.

    Jane could look serious or even aloof, but she had a warm heart underneath it all.

    And Lisa-Lisa was a true country girl: down-to-earth, kind, and remarkably resilient.

 Chapter 289

    The very first challenge of freshman year was the month-long boot camp.

    After grabbing lunch at the dining hall, Citrine and her three roommates picked up their training uniforms before heading back to their dorm.

    As they returned, a new message popped up in the freshman ss group chat:

    **Attention all students: Assemble at the sports field at 6:30 a.m. sharp tomorrow!**

    **Reply "1" to confirm you''ve seen this.**

    "Six-thirty? That''s insane," Ingrid groaned, slumping over her desk as she stared at her phone. Her eyes went wide with disbelief, and she made a strangled noise somewhere between a honk and a wail.

    Jane, ever unruffled, added, "And the forecast says it''ll be sunny every day this month, with highs around a hundred degrees."

    Lisa''s eyes widened. "Even working in the fields isn''t this brutal. Are they trying to roast us alive?"

    "By the end of this, we''ll probably all look like a bunch of charcoal sticks," Lisa moaned, ncing down at her already not-so-fair arms.

    Citrine, on the other hand, seemed unfazed. She quietly took three small gift bags from her desk and handed them out to her roommates.

    "Lucky you," she smiled. "These are gifts from my family."

    There was a gentle warmth in her eyes as she mentioned her folks. Her cousin Raymond had thought of everything before she left for college.

    Knowing how hard it could be to break the ice with new roommates, Raymond had gone out and bought three identical sets of luxury skincare products, insisting that she give them as gifts.

    "Oh my gosh, this is the real deal!" Ingrid eximed, tearing open the package before quickly closing it again, her eyes shining. "I''ve been eyeing this brand forever but could never bring myself to splurge."

    Jane recognized thebel at a nce. She carefully ced the bag back on the desk. "This set costs nearly three grand. It''s way too much." She''d worked at a high-end boutique once; she knew exactly what these cost, and it wasn''t the kind of thing regr students could afford.

    "No way, this is too expensive. I can''t ept this," Lisa stammered, her face a picture of shock.

    Citrine just smiled. "Take them. My family picked them out with care."

    Raymond had guessed this would happen. He''d agonized over several brands, trying to strike a bnce between quality and price, but even his final pick had ended up on the pricier side.

    Still, he''d put real thought into it, and Citrine genuinely wanted her roommates to ept the gifts.

    Ingrid clutched the coveted skincare set and beamed. "Well, if you insist... Citrine, I could seriously kiss you right now."

    With that, Jane shrugged off her reluctance. "All right then. Thank you. I guess it''d be rude to say no."

    "Thank you, Citrine," Lisa echoed, her voice soft but grateful.

    Maybe Citrine didn''t think much of the price, but for the other three, this was a luxury-and the brand''s reputation for brightening and hydrating skin was legendary. After all, what girl doesn''t love a little pampering? Deep down, all three were thrilled.

    But no amount of happiness could soften the sting of waking up before dawn.

    At six sharp the next morning, a shrill whistle pierced the air outside the dorm. Citrine and her roommates shot upright in bed, jolted awake by the sound.

    Sitting on her bed, Ingrid let out a long, miserable groan. "Didn''t they say six- thirty? Why is it only six? Are they trying to kill us?"

    "This is torture," Jane muttered, for once looking as if she might actually copse.

    "So... are we getting up or not?" Lisa looked at the others, seeking backup.

    Ingrid gritted her teeth. "Up. I heard Crestwood University brought in drill instructors from the Vermillion Vanguard¡ªsupposedly ridiculously handsome. I''m not missing out. I n to check them out and look my absolute best doing it."

    Citrine met the other girls'' eyes, and in a sh, all four were out of bed and scrambling to get dressed.

 Chapter 290

    She was always quick on her feet. After washing up, Citrine finished her skincare routine in record time-toner, moisturizer, done.

    "Dang, Citrine, you''re fast!" Ingrid stared at her in disbelief.

    Then she asked, ¡°Hey, it''s the first day. Don''t you want to put on some makeup?¡±

    "Forget it, I''m too tired." Citrine was still half-asleep. Before Ingrid had even finished, Citrine climbed right back into bed, pulling the covers up. "Nope. I need a few more minutes. Wake me up when you guys are done."

    "No problem." Ingrid shed her an OK sign, seeing how sleepy she looked.

    Then she turned to Jane and Lisa, full of determination. "It''s our first day of boot camp, girls. We absolutely have to look amazing. Let''s be the best-looking ones out there."

    "Absolutely," Jane and Lisa chimed in together.

    Ten minutes ticked by...

    Then twenty...

    Then thirty...

    Suddenly, the ring sound of the school inte shattered the peace.

    "First-year medical students Citrine Carmichael and Jane, please report downstairs immediately."

    "First-year literature students Ingrid and Lisa, please report downstairs immediately."

    The announcement was piped directly into the girls'' dormitory, and the volume was deafening.

    Jolted awake by the booming voice, Citrine shot upright in bed, all traces of sleep gone. She scrambled out of bed in a panic.

    Ingrid, halfway through applying her falseshes, watched helplessly as one fluttered dramatically to the floor.

    She nced at her phone and squeaked, "Oh no! It''s six thirty!"

    There was no time for makeup now. The four girls hurriedly threw on their shoes and bolted out the door.

    The moment they stepped out of the dorm, they nearly ran straight into their instructor-who was already waiting downstairs with a dark, stormy look.

    He stood at the bottom of the steps, arms crossed and brow furrowed, watching them approach.

    Backlit by the morning sun, it was hard to make out his features at first. But as they drew closer, they realized he was strikingly handsome. Sharp jaw, high- bridged nose, an air of rugged confidence that made him both intimidating and maic.

    Ingrid nearly squealed. She muttered under her breath, ¡°God, he''s gorgeous. If I''d known, I would''ve glued thatstsh on." She actually sounded a little regretful.

    The instructor strode over, his voice ice-cold. "Follow me."

    He turned on his heel and jogged toward the training field. The girls hurried after him.

    Once they reached the field, he didn''t have them join the others. Instead, he left them standing off to the side.

    He moved to the front and introduced himself, "Good morning. I''m your instructor, Hastings Cooper."

    Hastings. That name sounded oddly familiar.

    Citrine nced up at him, thinking hard-then it clicked. In herst life, after Quentin Aldridge, Kali Glenwood''s second admirer had also been named Hastings. He''d been a close friend and confidant of the Glenwood family''s heir. What a coincidence.

    Before she could dwell on it, Hastings nced back at the four of them and barked, "You four. Get over here."

    Citrine stepped forward first, the others following behind her. They lined up at the front of the group.

    Hastings gave a cold littleugh. "Thanks to you four troublemakers, everyone''s training got dyed. Drop and give me two hundred push-ups. The rest of you, take a break."

    "What? Two hundred? That''ll kill me!" Ingrid''s knees nearly buckled at the number.

    "Yeah, I can barely manage fifty," Lisa muttered.

    "Oh? Not enough for you? Then make it three hundred." Hastings arched an eyebrow, his voice colder than ice.

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    The sun in Crestwood was far more relentless than back in Havencrest.

    On a sweltering hundred-degree day, four girls pushed through a round of push- ups under the zing sun.

    Although all four were struggling through the same drill, only Citrine''s form was wless her movements precise, her breathing steady, as if the exercise cost her nothing at all.

    Meanwhile, after barely reaching their fiftieth push-up, Ingrid and the other two girls had copsed, sprawled on the ground, gasping for air and utterly spent.

    "Don''t y dead. Up. If you don''t finish on time, I''ll add another hundred," barked Sergeant Hastings, a sh of scorn in his eyes as he walked over and nudged the trio with the toe of his boot.

    The threat of extra reps was all the motivation they needed. Groaning, the three girls dragged themselves upright and forced themselves to continue.

    Soon after, Citrine finished her set. She stood, snapped to attention, and called out, "Sir, I''m done."

    Hastings blinked, incredulous. He shot a nce at the assistant instructor beside him. "She''s finished?"

    The assistant gave a small nod.

    Three hundred push-ups in five minutes-most of the boys wouldn''t manage that. Hastings fought to hide his astonishment. "Back in line," he said.

    Nearly twenty minutester, Ingrid and her friends finally finished, staggering back to the group, still gasping for breath.

    But before they could even reach for their water bottles, Hastings lifted the whistle dangling from his neck and blew a sharp st, his voice cutting through the air, "Fall in!"

    The girls snapped to attention, wiping sweat from their brows.

    They thought, surely, that the sergeant would ease up now. But no sooner had they caught their breath than Hastings announced, "Military training means no cosmetics-no exceptions. Each of you, take a pack of makeup wipes and remove everything from your face. Now."

    Ingrid, Jane, and Lisa all nched.

    But after the push-up ordeal, none of them dared protest. They lined up with the others, collected the wipes, and dutifully scrubbed their faces clean.

    "Good. Next-? Hastings was about to continue when his gazended on a face in the crowd-Citrine''s, impossibly fair and almost glowing. His brows knitted together, his stare sharp and using. "You there! Are you deaf or just ignoring me?"

    Citrine froze, genuinely confused. "Excuse me?"

    These kids are impossible, Hastings thought, irritation simmering. He barked, "I''ll give you one more chance. Otherwise, three hundred more push-ups."

    Citrine''s patience snapped a little. Her voice dropped, calm but firm. "Sir, are you the one not listening? I don''t understand what I did wrong."

    A sudden, awkward silence fell.

    No one had expected Citrine to answer back so boldly.

    A low buzz of whispers rippled through the ranks.

    "Damn, this girl''s got guts-going head-to-head with Mr. Cooper? She must have a death wish."

    "Yeah, you know Mr. Cooper''s got connections. She''s messing with the wrong guy, that''s for sure."

    Others took the sergeant''s side.

    "It''s not his fault-she''s just being difficult. Everyone else wiped their faces; why can''t she?"

    "Exactly. She''s the only one whose face is practically shining. Who''s she trying to fool? Does she think we''re all blind?"

    The murmurs grew louder and louder. Hastings'' face darkened, rage barely contained. He leveled another warning, his voice cold and clipped. "Last chance. Follow orders and wipe your face. Or it''s three hundred push-ups."

    Citrine''s voice was quiet but clear. "I''m not wearing any makeup." She didn''t have to raise her voice-everyone heard her. And for a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence.

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    Some people just couldn''t resist a bit of drama.

    "No way. She''s clearly wearing makeup. Why lie about it?"

    "Girls know girls best. That''s what you call the ''no-makeup'' makeup look."

    "I don''t get it. If you put on makeup, just admit it. It''s not like it''s a crime."

    "That''s because you don''t get it. If she won''t take her makeup off, she must look downright scary without it. Probably afraid she''ll frighten everyone."

    "She looks presentable with makeup, but who knows what kind of monster is underneath?"

    "Oh please, have you looked in a mirrortely?" Ingrid shot the group a fierce re. "You''re not exactly a vision yourselves, with those pockmarks all over your face. Maybe check yourself before you talk about someone else."

    Jane arched an eyebrow, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Jealousy really does make people ugly, doesn''t it? You should see your faces right now."

    Lisa, not to be outdone, fired back in her hometown dialect, "Where I''m from, girls like Citrine are born beautiful, inside and out. Unlike you toads-ugly on the outside, and even uglier inside."

    The group fell silent, realizing these three weren''t easy targets.

    Ingrid rolled her eyes. "I''d love to see their faces if they found out Citrine actually isn''t wearing any makeup."

    Lisa smirked. "They''d be green with envy, that''s for sure."

    Meanwhile, Hastings had reached the end of his patience. He grabbed a pack of makeup remover wipes from a cardboard box and strode straight toward Citrine.

    "If you won''t wipe it off yourself, I guess I''ll have to help you," Hastings announced, pulling out a wipe. He braced the back of Citrine''s head with one hand and scrubbed at her face with the other.

    He scrubbed until a patch of her skin turned red, but the wipe stayed perfectly clean no trace of makeup anywhere.

    Hastings frowned, refusing to believe it. He reached for the other side of her face, but Citrine caught his arm in a surprisingly firm grip.

    "You''re hurting me, Coach," she snapped, snatching the wipe from his hand and shoving him away with deliberate force.

    Hastings stumbled backward, nearly losing his bnce. For a moment, he forgot to wonder how a girl could be that strong; all he could think about was what she''d just said.

    His gaze drifted to the angry red mark he''d left on her cheek, blood prickling to the surface, and he froze.

    He''d barely touched her-how could her skin be so delicate that it bled?

    Hastings pressed his lips together, ready to say something, but Citrine beat him to it. In front of everyone, she briskly wiped her entire face with the remover, then tossed the used wipe back to him.

    Citrine''s eyes sparkled with scorn. "Mr. Cooper, maybe your eyesight isn''t what it used to be. Would you like me to wash my face in front of everyone, just to be sure?"

    Even after all that, Citrine''s skin was luminous, impossibly fair¡ªif anything, she looked even more radiant than before. Herplexion was as wless as porcin, not a single blemish in sight.

    Hastings had met plenty of beautiful women, but in that moment, he had to admit: this girl outshone them all. There was nothing artificial about her beauty.

    He stared at the thin line of blood on her cheek, watching as it slowly beaded up. He hadn''t even used much force her skin was just that fragile. A shadow crossed his eyes. After a long pause, he finally managed, "No need. I was wrong about you."

    Citrine smiled, but didn''t let him off the hook. "If it was a misunderstanding, then I think you owe me an apology, Mr. Cooper. After all, you did scratch my face." She pointed at her cheek, making it impossible for him to ignore.

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    It was the first time Hastings had ever been publicly embarrassed like this, and his face immediately darkened.

    But he knew full well that he''d been in the wrong-he had misunderstood her. Though his expression remained stern, he finally lowered his head. "I''m sorry, miss. I didn''t have all the facts."

    Hastings thought that would be the end of it.

    He hadn''t counted on the girl pushing further.

    "Mr. Cooper, could you speak up, please? I can hardly hear you."

    Citrine pointed to her own cheek, ncing around at the other students with a look of wounded innocence.

    "Oh my god, she''s still bleeding, and Mr. Cooper just won''t admit he was out of line."

    "Seriously, I''m with Citrine on this one."

    "Mr. Cooper was way too rough."

    "How could he scratch her face like that?"

    The murmurs grew louder and louder as the crowd watched.

    With his jaw set, Hastings finally raised his voice so that everyone could hear. "Miss, I''m sorry. I didn''t have all the facts and I misjudged you."

    This time, his apology rang out clearly across the room.

    And so, a morning packed with drama ended with Hastings'' public apology.

    By lunchtime, Citrine was heading to the campus dining hall with Ingrid and Lisa.

    As they walked, the three girls grumbled about the morning''s events.

    "I must have been out of my mind to think Hastings was a heartthrob," Ingrid said, still rubbing her sore arm.

    "Right? He''s a total nightmare. I bet he''ll make our lives miserable from now on," Lisa chimed in, then turned to Citrine, eyes wide with admiration. "By the way, Citrine, you were honestly amazing back there!"

    Ingrid burst outughing. "God, just thinking about the look on Hastings'' face when he had to eat his words-priceless! He totally had iting."

    Citrine grinned. "I can''t deny, it was pretty satisfying."

    Once inside the cafeteria, the girls split up to grab their favorite food.

    Citrine picked up her tray and found an empty table to sit at.

    Just as she sat down, a gentle voice called her name.

    "Citrine." She looked up, startled, to see a familiar face.

    "Sebastian Vesper." She hadn''t expected to run into him here.

    "Mind if I join you?" Sebastian asked, gesturing to the seat across from her, tray in hand.

    Citrine nodded, smiling. "Of course."

    Sebastian had just settled in when Ingrid and the others returned.

    Citrine introduced them. "These are my roommates-Ingrid, Lisa, and Jane."

    Then, turning to her friends, she hesitated, searching for the right words to describe her connection with Sebastian. She didn''t really know what they were to each other.

    Before she could figure it out, Sebastian stepped in with an easy smile. ¡°I''m Sebastian, a friend of Citrine''s. Nice to meet you all."

    "Nice to meet you!" the three girls chorused.

    They exchanged nces, shooting Citrine curious looks, then peeking at Sebastian. It was obvious they were dying to gossip.

    Ingrid was already mentally shipping the two of them.

    She grinned, barely holding backughter. "A friend, huh? You two must have a lot to catch up on."

    "We''ll let you chat," she added, giving Lisa and Jane a knowing look.

    The three girls wandered off to a window seat, but kept sneaking nces back at Citrine and Sebastian.

    Once they were gone, Sebastian leaned in a little, lowering his voice. "So, we''re just friends?"

    Citrine looked up at him. "Of course we are."

    He feigned a hurt expression and teased, "You hesitated back there. For a moment, I thought maybe we weren''t even friends."

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    "Of course not," Citrine replied with a bright smile.

    Then she nced at him. "So, you''re a Crestwood University student?"

    Sebastian nodded. "Yeah, I''m a junior."

    "But weren''t you at Havencrestst year?" Citrine sounded surprised; she''d always assumed he was studying at Havencrest University.

    Sebastian pressed his lips together, his eyes clouding for a moment before he exined, ¡°My family lives in Havencrest. Last year, my mom got really sick and had to stay at Havencrest General. I took a year off so I could be there for her."

    Citrine hadn''t expected him to share something so personal. She hesitated, then asked quietly, "How is she now?"

    He nced at Citrine. "It''s a chronic illness. She''s been transferred to Crestwood Hospital now."

    He didn''t borate, and Citrine didn''t press for more.

    She didn''t really consider them friends.

    Her interest in him was deliberate, just as his in her seemed calcted.

    But why? Citrine couldn''t yet say.

    Maybe their first meeting was pure chance, but every encounter since had felt increasingly intentional.

    After lunch, Citrine needed to get to the training grounds, so she excused herself.

    As soon as she arrived, Ingrid and the others swarmed around her.

    Ingrid''s eyes sparkled with gossip. "Citrine, who was that ridiculously handsome guy you were just with?"

    Lisa chimed in, eager for details. "Come on, spill!"

    Citrine thought for a second, then simply said, "Just someone I''ve bumped into a few times. A regr acquaintance."

    Ingrid looked disappointed. "Acquaintance? But you two looked so good together!"

    Citrine didn''t see it. Without hesitating, she replied, "He''s not my type. Honestly, I doubt I''m his, either."

    She did like Sebastian, but not in a romantic way.

    Seeing her reaction, Ingrid dropped the subject.

    She nced at her stunning roommate and nodded. "True. Our Citrine''s so gorgeous-can''t just pair her up with anyone."

    A few minutester, the shrill sound of a whistle signaled the start of brutal midday training.

    Mr. Hastings strode over, now dressed in a camo T-shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and lean waist, his arms all toned muscle. Even from a distance, he looked distractingly good.

    The girls couldn''t help but stare, several squealing outright.

    Hastings shot them a cold look. "Today, we''re practicingbat drills."

    He demonstrated each move, breaking it down step by step, while Citrine and the others followed along.

    The midday sun was merciless, and within minutes, Citrine was drenched in sweat.

    Ingrid wobbled unsteadily beside her, nearly losing her bnce. "Citrine, I''m dying here."

    Citrine nced over, murmuring, "Hang in there. Tighten your core, focus on your abs and lower back."

    Ingrid took her advice, shifting her center, and immediately felt a bit better.

    The training dragged on for a full hour.

    When they were finally dismissed, Ingrid and the others copsed onto the grass, rubbing sore calves and aching arms.

    Ingrid groaned dramatically, "I''m done for. Everything hurts. Is this supposed to be survivable?"

    Citrine just grinned. "This is still the easy part. It only gets tougher from here."

    Seeing their confused faces, she exined, "Military training at Crestwood isn''t like what you get at other colleges. Most just make you stand at attention and march a bit. Here, it''s real-intensive drills that follow actual military standards. What we''ve done so far? Just the warm-up. The real challenge is only beginning."

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    A bolt from the blue.

    Everyone who heard Citrine''s words winced as if they''d been struck.

    Ingrid clenched her teeth in frustration. "Are they serious? What kind of sadistes up with this stuff? I didn''t sign up for boot camp."

    Lisa looked pale. "Great. First day here and we''ve already managed to piss off the demon drill sergeant. The rest of this week is going to be hell."

    Jane sighed. "Let''s just hope Mr. Cooper doesn''t make it his mission to torment us."

    Ingrid suddenly paused, her eyes widening as she turned to Citrine. "Wait, how do you even know this? The training program at Crestwood University is top secret- they never make it public."

    Citrine just smiled. "A professor from the med school told me."

    She didn''t bother to add that the old man only told her in an attempt to lure her into his department a pitch she''d promptly turned down.

    No one questioned it. They simply assumed Citrine must have a family connection

    at Crestwood, maybe someone on the faculty, or at least knew people who were in the know.

    The four of them were still chatting when a girl from another group started walking their way.

    All eyes turned to her.

    Some students, having done their homework online, immediately recognized the girl and let out excited shrieks. "That''s the freshman prodigy from Crestwood!"

    "I can''t believe I''m actually seeing the goddess of Crestwood in person."

    "She''s absolutely stunning."

    "She''s unreal."

    Not everyone was convinced, though. Someone in the crowd scoffed, "I don''t get

    it. She just looks average to me. You can''t even see her real face under all that makeup. Honestly, even with makeup, she''s not half as pretty as Citrine is without any."

    "I agree. Citrine is way prettier."

    "Yeah, if she looks like this with makeup, imagine what she looks like without it. Definitely can''tpare to Citrine''s natural beauty."

    "At least some people have taste." Ingrid beamed with pride at thepliments directed at her friend.

    She turned back to the group. "Do you guys know who that is?"

    Lisa nodded¡ªshe''d done her research beforeing. "That''s Kali, the top student in the sophomore literature program. She''s pretty much a legend around Crestwood."

    Jane frowned, trying to remember. ¡°Isn''t her family background supposed to be really impressive, too? I heard something, but I can''t quite recall...¡±

    Citrine finished for her, smiling. "She''s the adopted daughter of the Glenwood family. The Glenwood heir''s younger sister, and basically the darling of the entire family."

    "That''s right!" Jane said, surprised that Citrine knew even the details.

    At that moment, Kali walked straight up to Hastings in front of everyone.

    Hastings, who was usually the definition of intimidation, visibly softened the moment he saw her approach.

    His tone was still brisk, butpared to how he barked at the freshmen, it was practically gentle. "What brings you here?"

    Ingrid''s jaw dropped. "Is this really the same drill sergeant? No way."

    The others stared in shock, but Citrine just looked on, unfazed.

    She knew all too well-Hastings had a thing for Kali. He was one of her many hopeless admirers.

    And honestly, it was only natural for a dog to wag its tail for its master.

    Kali gazed up at Hastings, her voice syrupy sweet. "Hastings, I heard you''re teaching here now, so I thought I''de see you."

    She pouted, putting on an exaggeratedly hurt expression. "And you you start working at Crestwood and you don''t even tell me? Are you mad at me or something?"

    Hastings panicked, scrambling to reassure her. "No, of course not. How could I ever be mad at you?"

    She''d practically grown up as his little sister, and if anything, his feelings for her had always run deeper than that. But she had someone else in her heart, and the thought darkened his expression for a moment.

    Just then, Kali caught sight of something-or someone that made her stop short, disbelief flickering across her face.

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    The smile at the corner of her mouth faded. "What''s she doing here?"

    "Who?" Hastings followed her gaze, a flicker of suspicion in his voice. "You mean Citrine Carmichael?"

    Kali nodded. "Yeah."

    Something seemed to cross her mind, and for a split second, a hint of malice glimmered across her face. She nced at Hastings, trying to sound offhand. "By the way, with all these people going bare-faced, why is she the only one wearing makeup?"

    Her eyes darted slyly. "Shouldn''t someone ask her to take it off?"

    The mention of makeup instantly brought this morning''s incident to Hastings''s mind, and his expression soured.

    He clenched his jaw before replying, "That is her bare face. She isn''t wearing makeup."

    Kali was momentarily stunned.

    "Maybe I was mistaken," she murmured, pressing her lips together. She nced back at Citrine, and a wave of jealousy suddenly welled up inside her.

    But with Hastings standing right beside her, she kept it hidden.

    Hastings noticed Kali seemed less than fond of Citrine. "Do you know her?" he asked.

    Kali hesitated, then put on a reluctant air. "Remember I told you about that girl at Havencrest who used to pester your ssmate?"

    Hastings''s eyes widened. "You don''t mean her, do you?"

    Kali nodded. "That''s her."

    Hastings had never liked Citrine much to begin with, but now, hearing she''d once fought for the attention of his beloved sister Kali''s friend, his dislike for her hardened into outright contempt.

    He set his jaw, promising, "Don''t worry. I''ll make sure she gets what''sing to her."

    Kali instantly panicked and tried to wave him off. ¡°No, Hastings, really¡ªit''s my problem, you don''t need to get involved."

    Hastings scowled at her protest. "Come on, Kali. When have you ever been bullied and I didn''t stand up for you?"

    Kali fell silent at that, and after chatting with Hastings a little longer, she finally left.

    Just then, Hastings blew his sharp,manding whistle, and everyone snapped to attention, lining up in formation.

    His voice rang out, loud and clear. "Next-five hundred push-ups."

    "Five hundred? That''s insane!"

    "Just let me die already."

    Grumbling and groans rippled through the ranks.

    Hastings cut them off coldly. "Less whining, or I''ll make it a thousand."

    Not a single person dared protest again. Everyone dropped to the ground and started.

    The midday heat soared to a brutal 110 degrees-no one could catch their breath.

    They gasped for air, arms trembling with every push.

    In contrast, Citrine-aside from a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead-looked perfectlyposed. Her form was wless, her pace steady and fast.

    Hastings watched her for a long moment, searching for a fault anding up empty.

    After eight minutes, Citrine was the first to stand. "Sir, push-upspleted."

    Everyone looked at her with envy; the first to finish always got to rest.

    But Hastings wasn''t about to let her off so easily.

    He red, his tone harsh. "Why did you get up before reporting properly? Always eager to stand out, aren''t you? If you love the spotlight so much, do another five hundred."

    Citrine didn''t argue. She simply got back on the ground and started again.

    She hadn''t followed protocol, so she epted the punishment withoutint. No one else thought much of it.

    But as the training went on, it became clear: the instructor was singling Citrine out, making excuses to punish her.

    All afternoon, she outperformed everyone, yet she always got the harshest penalties.

    When dinner rolled around, the other groups were dismissed, but Citrine was still out on the field, enduring extra drills.

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    That afternoon, while everyone else alternated between drills and rest, Citrine was either being punished or on her way to another round of it.

    She prided herself on her stamina, but even she couldn''t withstand an entire afternoon of relentless training. While others caught their breath, she was runningps or doing push-ups as punishment.

    By half past five, Citrine staggered back to the dorm, utterly spent. She didn''t even have the appetite to eat; she just copsed onto her bed.

    Ingrid and the others were worried sick. They''d brought back some food from the dining hall, but when they walked in and saw Citrine sprawled out, they couldn''t bear to wake her.

    Ingrid quietly set the food on the desk and whispered to the others, "Let''s just let Citrine rest. She''s been through hell today, and we have to muster for the sing- alongter. Who knows what that damn Hastings will put her through next?" The more Ingrid spoke, the more indignant she sounded.

    The group tiptoed to their own bunks, put on headphones, and scrolled through their phones, careful not to disturb her.

    When it was almost time, they gently woke Citrine.

    After a short nap, Citrine looked much better-her color had returned and she seemed more alert.

    By the time they reached the field, the sing-along had already started.

    Trying to keep Citrine out of Hastings'' line of sight, Ingrid and the others found a spot as far away from him as possible, and Citrine sat wedged between them.

    It didn''t matter. Hastings spotted her instantly.

    His brow furrowed, and he abruptly stopped the cadet who''d been leading the song.

    Citrine''s right eyelid twitched-a sure sign of impending doom.

    Sure enough, Hastings fixed his gaze on her. "Citrine Carmichael," he called out, "your physical training scores are the highest in the group. I''m sure your singing is just as impressive. Why don''t you lead us in a battle anthem?"

    "I''d rather not. My throat''s sore," Citrine protested, scowling. She was convinced Hastings had somehow discovered her Achilles'' heel.

    The truth was, there was nothing in this world that scared her-except singing. She was tone-deaf. Thest time she''d gone with her ssmates to Siren''s Whisper, she''d cranked the original track to full volume and barely mouthed the words, hoping no one would notice.

    But Hastings wasn''t about to let her off the hook. "Citrine, following orders is the foundation of discipline," he reminded her, eyes unyielding.

    Upperssmen who didn''t have sses that evening had gathered at the training grounds, eager to watch the freshmen''s military drills. If Citrine refused, she knew by tomorrow morning, the whole campus would be gossiping online-using her of defying a superior''s orders and disrespecting her instructor.

    "Fine, I''ll sing," Citrine muttered, bracing herself.

    She took a breath and began: ¡°Hear the trumpet sound, a new journey calls, our mission¡ª"

    She barely got the first line out beforeughter erupted from the crowd.

    "Oh my God, is she tone-deaf?"

    "I can''t-my sides hurt. I don''t want tough, but I can''t help it!"

    "How can someone that gorgeous be so hopeless at singing?"

    "Honestly, I looked at her and thought she''d be amazing. This is... something else."

    "So even beautiful girls have their weaknesses, huh?"

    Meanwhile, Hastings-usually the picture of stern authority-was struggling to keep a straight face. He clutched his stomach and stared at Citrine as though witnessing the funniest thing he''d ever seen.

    "Carry on, Citrine. You''re doing great," Hastings managed between fits of suppressedughter, his shoulders shaking.

    Theughter grew louder and louder, drawing even more upperssmen over to see what themotion was about.

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    Citrine forced herself to keep singing, doing her best not to falter.

    Meanwhile, Sebastian stood in the crowd, watching with a faint frown etched on his face.

    Just as Citrine finished her song, she finally let out a sigh of relief.

    Now came the entertainment segment-anyone could take the stage and show off a talent.

    Maybe because everyone had justughed at Citrine, Hastings, for once, seemed to take pity on her. He didn''t try to make things harder.

    But then, to everyone''s shock, Citrine stepped forward on her own.

    She looked straight at Hastings and said, "Mr. Cooper, I heard you''re part of the Vermillion Vanguard. Rumor has it your squad''s faced down real criminals from Magnolia, and you''re all top-notch fighters. I''ve picked up a bit of sparring myself ¡ªwould you do me the honor of a match?"

    Hastings froze. So did the students and upperssmen gathered to watch-their eyes widened in disbelief.

    "A freshman challenging a member of the Vermillion Vanguard? She''s got a death wish."

    "Look at her-she looks like a stiff breeze would knock her over. Mr. Cooper will tten her in seconds."

    "Whatever pretty moves she learned out there are nothingpared to realbat training. This girl''s dreaming."

    "Mr. Cooper isn''t actually going to agree, is he?"

    "You... really want to spar with me?" Hastings couldn''t help butugh as he spoke, his tone half-amused, half-incredulous. This girl had some nerve, but clearly didn''t know her ce.

    Citrine had no idea what he was thinking. She kept her gaze respectful and earnest. "Mr. Cooper, I''m genuinely asking to learn. Even if I lose, I won''tin."

    From start to finish, she looked every bit the humble student.

    Hastings snorted. "Don''t say I didn''t warn you-we don''t pull our punches when

    we train with each other. If you get hurt, don''te crying."

    Compared to Citrine''s humility, Hastings sounded downright harsh.

    But Citrine wasn''t fazed. She replied breezily, "Mr. Cooper, I''ll say the same to you

    if you get hurt, try not to take it too personally."

    To everyone else, her words sounded downright cocky.

    No one really believed in her.

    "Fine," Hastings said, thinking of Kali, a cold glint flickering in his eyes.

    He epted immediately.

    By now, the crowd had gathered in thick circles, everyone eager for a show.

    Citrine and Hastings faced off, both getting into a fighting stance.

    Hastings clearly didn''t take her seriously. As far as he was concerned, this was a child''s game-he wasn''t worried in the slightest.

    "Go ahead. You start."

    Citrine could see he was underestimating her. She didn''t bother with pleasantries. In one swift, clean motion, she kicked Hastings square in the chest.

    Fast. Precise. Brutal.

    Hastings barely had time to register what happened the rest of the crowd didn''t even see her foot move.

    With a heavy thud, Hastings hit the floor, staring up at Citrine in utter shock.

    What power-he felt like his ribs might have cracked.

    It took him a moment to get back on his feet, shaken.

    This time, Hastings didn''t dare let his guard down. He drew on every ounce of skill

    he''d honed in the Vanguard, ready for a real fight.

    They began to trade blows. Every time, Citrinended her punches, striking his

    face with pinpoint uracy. Hastings, on the other hand, couldn''t so much as graze her not even a strand of hair.

 Chapter 299

    Citrine moved with a sharpness that was almost feline-quick reflexes, precise strikes, and absolutely ruthless.

    It didn''t take Hastings long to realize she was doing it on purpose. Each blow was aimed directly at his face.

    And every time he tried to anticipate her, she caught him off guard. He couldn''t keep up with her unpredictability, and soon he waspletely outmatched, left with no room to fight back.

    The realization that she was far better than him was a bitter pill to swallow. Hastings''s face darkened.

    He was themander of the Vermillion Vanguard; nobody in the squad could beat him in hand-to-handbat-until now. No one had ever managed to take him down.

    But today, in the middle of training, he''d lost to a girl half his size.

    Utterly humiliating.

    The whole sparring match was over in just five minutes.

    Standing over him, Citrine looked down from above, offering her hand to help him up.

    A sly smile tugged at her lips. "Thanks for the lesson, Mr. Cooper."

    Lesson? Hastings was sure she was mocking him.

    He hesitated for a long moment before finally reaching for her hand. But as soon as he was about to touch her, Citrine pulled her hand back at thest second.

    Hastings''s eyes narrowed dangerously.

    He couldn''t shake the feeling that she was doing it deliberately, almost as if she was getting back at him.

    But he had no proof.

    Meanwhile, the crowd that had gathered to watch waspletely stunned.

    "Holy crap, Citrine is badass. I think I''m in love."

    "She''s incredible! Mr. Cooper didn''t even stand a chance."

    "I always thought she was just gorgeous, but turns out she''s not only drop-dead beautiful¡ªshe''s insanely cool."

    "From now on, Citrine is officially my girl crush."

    Among the students, those who knew Hastings had been picking on Citrine earlier silently apuded her in their hearts.

    "I don''t know why, but seeing Mr. Cooper with a ck eye is kind of hrious. I

    mean, I''m pretty sure Citrine did it on purpose, but I''m on her side."

    "Same here. Mr. Cooper was way out of line before. I couldn''t stand it."

    Elsewhere in the crowd, Sebastian watched the whole thing unfold, the faintest smile ying on his lips and a rare glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

    "Whoa, Sebastian, don''t tell me you''ve got a thing for the new girl," his roommate blurted out, looking at him like he''d seen a ghost.

    Everyone at Crestwood University knew Sebastian was the untouchable star of the junior ss-he didn''t even spare the campus queen, Kali, a nce, let alone anyone else.

    Ware had never seen Sebastian look at someone like this before.

    But honestly, who could me him? After all, the gutsy freshman who''d just

    challenged the instructor was fair-skinned, stunning, and honestly, prettier than

    Kali by a mile. If Sebastian was interested, it was no surprise.

    After a long pause, Sebastian finally said, "Don''t you think she''s kind of adorable?"

    Ware, for whatever reason, could only picture Citrine''s fistsnding on Hastings''s face. He shivered. "Adorable or not, her punches are absolutely brutal."

    Sebastian couldn''t help butugh.

    After the sparring match, the mood on the field rxed a little.

    Students started lining up to show off their talents.

    Citrine returned to her seat, watching her teammates perform with a carefree smile.

    She was fully absorbed in the performances, but Ingrid and her two friends couldn''t stop staring at her, looking half-shocked, half in awe.

    "Why are you all looking at me like that?" Citrine finally asked, catching their stares.

    Ingrid gave her a dazed thumbs-up. "Citrine, I had no idea you could fight like that. You were amazing. Seriously, that was next-level. My heart is still racing."

    Jane was full of admiration. "You''re incredible. I mean it. That was hardcore."

    Lisa, on the other hand, frowned, a hint of worry in her voice. "But, Citrine, aren''t you worried Hastings wille after you again tomorrow?"

 Chapter 300

    Citrine smiled lightly. "I''m not worried. He won''t being after me again."

    She turned to Ingrid. "Hey, Ingrid, did you get the whole thing on video for me?¡± Ingrid nodded. "Don''t worry, I recorded everything just like you asked."

    Ever since he''d lost to Citrine, Hastings had sat at his spot with a stormy look, silent and brooding. He stayed that way until the evening activities wrapped up and everyone was dismissed. Only then did he finally leave.

    Hastings had barely disappeared down the hallway when Citrine quietly followed. "Mr. Cooper," she called, waiting until they were alone in a deserted corridor.

    Hastings, who''d just sunk onto a bench, looked up in surprise. He hadn''t expected Citrine toe after him, and he stared at her warily. "Why are you following me?"

    Citrine approached with an easy smile and sat down beside him. She tilted her head, her lips curling with a hint of mischief. "Mr. Cooper, care to exin why you spent the whole day picking on me?"

    He froze, caught off guard. For a long moment, he said nothing.

    Citrine didn''t seem bothered by his silence. She simply watched him, calm and patient. "Is it because of Kali?"

    At that, Hastings'' eyes widened as if she''d struck a nerve. "What-what the hell are you talking about?"

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh at his reaction-a sharp, amused sound. "Protective, aren''t you? You really are her loyal puppy."

    Gone was the sweet, harmless girl everyone knew from the group. In this moment, Citrine''s presence was maic, dangerous-a mystery with an edge that sent a chill down his spine.

    Hastings stared at her, momentarily speechless.

    Once he realized exactly what she''d called him, his expression darkened. "Watch your mouth."

    But Citrine just smiled, unfazed by the warning, her tone still teasing. "What? Isn''t it true? Aren''t you Kali''spdog?"

    Hastings red at her. "Kali is my sister. You don''t stand a chance against her, so stop trying. You''re way out of your league."

    Citrine blinked in surprise, but then she remembered what Quentin had once said when he''d tried to kidnap her.

    So that''s it, she thought, suppressing augh. He sees me aspetition.

    Looking up at Hastings with a sunny grin, she said, "Hastings, you really are a good little puppy."

    She paused, then added, "I''ve never met anyone so generous-getting rid of your crush''s rival for her, that''s impressive. If it were me, I''d make sure to keep the person I liked close, never letting her pine for someone else."

    Hastings sneered at her suggestion, his voice cold. "You don''t get it at all. Kali''s the best girl in the world. All I want is for her to be happy. I''m not selfish like you."

    Suddenly, Citrine stood and seized his chin, forcing him to look at her. Her eyes were intense, almost hypnotic. "Kali''s not even half as pretty as me. If you''re going to y the loyal dog, you''d be better off serving me."

    Hastings found himself trapped in her gaze, unable to move or look away. For a moment, he forgot to protest-her eyes seemed to draw him in, deep and inescapable.

    His gaze drifted from her eyes to her delicate, porcin face. His throat went dry, and his heart skipped a beat. The innocent little bunny everyone saw in Citrine was gone; what sat before him was a carnivorous flower, dangerous and alluring. He was just about to say something when Citrine let go and drawled, "Just kidding. I wouldn''t want a dog that''s already belonged to Kali. That''s just gross."

 Chapter 301

    Hastings Cooper''s Adam''s apple bobbed as he jerked Citrine''s hand off his arm, his voice as cold as steel. "Sebastian Vesper belongs to Kali. You''d better not cross her, or I swear you''ll regret it."

    Good boy, Citrine thought with a wry smirk. What a shame he''s Kali Glenwood''spdog.

    She sighed, shrugged as if none of it mattered, and drawled, "What are you going to do to me? Keep making my life hell?"

    Hastings sneered. "Yeah, and so what? I''m your instructor. I''ve got plenty of ways to make you pay. Try stealing someone from Kali, and I''ll ruin you. No one''s going to stop me."

    "Ruin me?" Citrine echoed, intrigued, then broke into a suddenugh. "Careful, you''re starting to sound exciting."

    "Lunatic," Hastings grumbled-he''d never met anyone like her before. Completely at a loss, he practically bolted out of sight.

    As soon as he was gone, Citrine''s yful expression faded. The corners of her mouth ttened, her eyes turning cold.

    In herst life, she''d hidden who she was and spent ten years in a secret rtionship with Theo Glenwood. His brothers had made it their mission to torment her.

    Well, this time around, it was her turn to have a little fun at their expense.

    Tonight, the moon over Crestwood was especially bright. Citrine lifted her gaze to the sky, and out of nowhere, thought of Raymond Carmichael.

    How was his day? Was he workingte again?

    It had only been a day since they''dst seen each other, yet she found herself missing him.

    A wistful look flickered in her eyes.

    Just then, a phone chimed, snapping her back to the present.

    But it wasn''t her phone. Citrine turned, and unexpectedly met a pair of gentle eyes.

    Most people had already left this part of campus, but somehow Sebastian had slipped in without a sound, nearly making her jump. Citrine instinctively took a step back. "Were you... standing there this whole time?"

    He smiled slightly, not bothering to deny it. "Yeah.¡±

    For a moment, the air between them was still.

    Citrine tensed, unwilling to let it go. "So... you heard everything I said to that guy?"

    Sebastian nodded.

    "You must think I''m awful," she said, pressing her lips together. Outwardly, she looked calm, but inside, she was far from it.

    Anyone who''d overheard her exchange with Hastings would assume the worst of her.

    She had no idea what Sebastian was thinking, and the uncertainty made her anxious.

    Sebastian blinked, surprised by her question, then hurried to reassure her. "Not at all. You''re the kindest person I know."

    He was well aware that Citrine wasn''t nearly as harmless as she appeared, but he also knew she was good-truly good.

    After all, she''d gone out of her way to help him, more than once.

    Citrine studied him, searching his expression. His gaze was sincere, but she couldn''t tell if he was being honest-or if she simply didn''t dare to believe him.

    She looked away, her smile tinged with sadness. "I''m not that good. I''ve done plenty of things I''m not proud of."

    Sebastian stared at her. She was smiling, but all he could sense was a deep loneliness.

    Something twisted inside his chest.

    He held her gaze, his voice steady. "If you did, then you must''ve had no choice. Sometimes life leaves us no other way."

    Citrine paused. For a moment, she felt something she''d never experienced before.

    It was as if, for once, someone trusted her-no questions asked.

    The restless ache in her heart was soothed by his words, reced by a quiet warmth.

    She almost felt... happy.

    Sebastian caught the shift in her mood and offered a gentle smile.

    He''d overheard most of their conversation, after all. And truthfully, Citrine was only being targeted because of him. If she hadn''t helped him that night at the bistro- hadn''t drawn Kali''s attention-none of this would be happening.

 Chapter 302

    Sebastian thought for a moment before speaking up, "I''m sorry. It''s my fault you got dragged into this. If it weren''t for me, you wouldn''t have been targeted in the first ce."

    Citrine immediately understood what he meant.

    But she didn''t see how any of it was really his responsibility. "You didn''t ask him toe after me. How is this your fault?"

    He couldn''t help but think how na?ve she was. "You''re too kind."

    Clearly, he was the reason for all this, but this sweet, soft-hearted girl just couldn''t bring herself to me him.

    Compared to everyone else he''d known, Citrine was an absolute angel.

    A small smile tugged at the corners of Sebastian''s mouth. On impulse, he reached out and gently ruffled her hair.

    Feeling his warm hand on her head, Citrine froze in surprise. But oddly enough, she didn''t mind it.

    For reasons she couldn''t exin, this guy always seemed to know how to calm her down when she was upset.

    She never had to say a word he just understood.

    Meanwhile, Sebastian found himself staring at her messy hair, a bit lost in thought.

    He remembered why he''d first gotten close to her, and a shadow passed through

    his eyes.

    If she ever found out about his real motives, she''d probably hate him.

    That thought sent a spike of fear through him.

    He''d spent his whole life being abandoned, rejected, never really belonging to anyone. Citrine was the only person who''d ever shown him real kindness, who actually cared about him.

    What if she found out...

    A cold, unsettling glint flickered in Sebastian''s eyes. Out of Citrine''s sight, a twisted, possessive smile appeared on his lips.

    It''s fine. She''ll never know.

    Citrine nced at her phone. It was almost eleven. She turned to Sebastian. "The dorm''s about to lock up. I should get going."

    "I''ll walk you," Sebastian said, checking his watch.

    "You''re not heading back to your dorm?" Citrine looked at him, surprised.

    "I''ve got a ce off campus," he replied.

    With that, she didn''t protest.

    They crossed the quad together, heading toward the freshman girls'' dorm.

    The walk was easy, the two of them chatting andughing as they went. But as they passed a small grove of trees, Citrine suddenly heard a strange noise.

    She looked up, and then stopped dead in her tracks, stunned by what she saw. Now she understood exactly where that odd sound hade from.

    Just ahead, under the cover of darkness, a guy and a girl were locked in a passionate embrace, kissing as if the world had faded away.

    The girl was straddling the boy''sp, his hands slipping under her shirt, their heavy breathing unmistakable in the quiet night.

    Citrine''s face flushed crimson. She hadn''t expected to stumble across something so...graphic.

    Thankfully, the dim light masked her embarrassment.

    Sebastian noticed too, but his face stayed perfectly calm.

    Still, this wasn''t something Citrine needed to see.

    Just as she started to hurry past, a warm hand suddenly covered her eyes.

    A deep, soothing voice murmured in her ear, "Don''t look. Not for little eyes."

    Before she could react, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

    "Come on, let''s go." Still shielding her eyes, he guided her away.

    Only when they were out of sight of the couple did Sebastian finally let his hand fall away.

    Citrine quickly stepped out of his embrace.

    He nced down at his arm, oddly reluctant to let her go.

    Neither of them mentioned what they''d just witnessed. They both knew some things were better left unspoken.

 Chapter 303

    Maybe it was the hell Hastings put her through the day before, but that night, Citrine came down with a fierce fever-a rare urrence for her.

    The next morning, as soon as the shrill whistle cut through the dorm, the three roommates scrambled out of bed.

    "Citrine?"

    Noticing Citrine didn''t move, Ingrid called her name a few times.

    Three calls, no answer. Atst, the three realized something was wrong.

    Lisa hurried over and pressed her hand to Citrine''s forehead. Her face went pale. "She''s burning up! How did she get such a high fever?"

    "We have to get her to the hospital. Now."

    Without hesitation, they bundled Citrine up and rushed her to the hospital. After a quick discussion, it was decided that Ingrid would stay behind to look after Citrine while the other two returned to the training grounds.

    That morning, Hastings gathered the entire group, scanning the assembled trainees. The moment he didn''t spot Citrine among them, his brows drew together in a deep scowl.

    He wore the look of a man convinced the world owed him a fortune. "Some people are alwayste. Incredibly poor behavior. When she finally shows up, she can look forward to three hundred push-ups."

    Just then, Jane and Lisa jogged up, breathless.

    Hastings knew they shared a dorm with Citrine. He nced behind them, saw no sign of her, and his expression turned icy. "Why are youte?"

    Jane, hair stered to her forehead with sweat, spoke up immediately. "Sir, our roommate, Citrine Carmichael, came down with a fever. We took her to the hospital. Ingrid''s there with her now."

    Lisa wiped her brow and nodded in agreement. "That''s right, sir. We''d like to request leave for both of them."

    Hastings let out a sharp, humorlessugh. "A fever? Did Citrine Carmichael put you up to this?"

    "No, sir,¡± Jane and Lisa answered in unison, shaking their heads quickly.

    He gave a cold, skeptical smile. "She''ll do anything to get out of training, won''t she? Faking illness, dragging her roommates along, and now sending you two to cover for her with a lie."

    The girls stiffened, caught between anger and anxiety.

    Lisa hurried to exin, her voice tight. "It''s not a lie, sir. Citrine is really sick. We wouldn''t make something like this up."

    Jane felt Hastings''s bias against Citrine more sharply than ever. Gathering her courage, she spoke up. "Sir, is it really us lying, or do you just have something against Citrine?"

    "She''s the best performer out of everyone here, but you''re always finding fault with her. Yesterday you had her training under the zing sun all afternoon, without a single break. Then you made her get up on stage and sing so she''d embarrass herself in front of everyone. Are you seriously going to stand there and say you weren''t targeting her on purpose?"

    "If you hadn''t been so heartless, she wouldn''t have ended up with a fever of a hundred and four, copsing in the middle of the night."

    She really had a fever?

    Hastings''s face went dark. He''d been ready to hand out a punishment, but Jane''sst words seemed to hit him somewhere deep. He pressed his lips together and swallowed whatever he''d been about to say.

    Without another word, he turned away and barked at the two girls, "Both of you- back in line."

    Jane had been bold, but now, remembering who Hastings was, she felt a wave of dread. What if he decided to get eventer? But seeing that he let the matter drop, she finally allowed herself to breathe.

    She and Lisa exchanged nces, then silently slipped back into formation.

    Meanwhile, at the hospital, Citrine''s fever refused to break. She drifted in and out

    of consciousness, while Ingrid kept a silent vigil by her bedside.

    At that moment, across town in the Carmichael Group office, Raymond sat in a ss-walled conference room, barely listening as thepany''s upper management droned on with their usual nonsense. He was restless, impatient to the point of agony.

    He couldn''t exin why, but all day a sense of unease gnawed at him, leaving him irritable and on edge.

    As the executive''s project report devolved into useless chatter, Raymond finally lost his patience. He mmed his palm on the table with a sharp crack.

 Chapter 304

    "Rubbish. Don''t ever bring up this nonsense again. Meeting adjourned."

    The others in the room flinched, quickly gathering theirptops and shuffling out of the conference room, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast.

    Once a few senior managers were safely in the hallway, they began murmuring in hushed voices.

    "What''s gotten into President Carmichaeltely? He''s been so irritable. Is he hitting a midlife crisis or something?"

    "No clue. He''s seemed distracted all day."

    "I bet he didn''t even listen to our reports just now."

    "I was terrified-I was sweating bullets in there, just waiting for him to snap at me."

    "Alright, enough specting. I think President Carmichael just misses his daughter. You probably didn''t know, but she just got into Crestwood University. He dropped her off a couple of days ago, and now he hasn''t seen her in days. Who wouldn''t be upset? We should try to be more understanding."

    "Oh, that exins it! No wonder."

    "As a parent myself, I get it. I really do."

    Most of the employees at thepany knew President Carmichael was notorious for doting on his daughter, so no one found his mood surprising. In fact, they sympathized with him.

    Meanwhile, inside a hospital room at Crestwood Prime Medical Center-

    Citrine''s phone suddenly rang.

    There was no name, just a string of numbers. Worried it might be important, Ingrid hesitated for a moment before answering on Citrine''s behalf.

    "Hello? This is...?" Ingrid offered cautiously.

    At that same moment, in the Carmichael Group''s headquarters in Havencrest- Raymond heard a stranger''s voice on his daughter''s phone and shot up from his office chair, his expression instantly tightening.

    His tone grew serious. "This is Citrine''s father. Who am I speaking to?"

    Realizing it was Mr. Carmichael himself, Ingrid quickly replied, "Hello, Mr. Carmichael. I''m Citrine''s roommate. She''se down with a fever and is at the hospital right now-she''s still unconscious."

    "She''s got a fever? How did this happen? Is it serious?" Raymond''s voice rose, panic bleeding into his words as he began pacing frantically in his office.

    Sensing his anxiety, Ingrid rushed to reassure him. "Please, don''t worry, Mr. Carmichael. Citrine''s out of danger now."

    But Raymond could hardly keep calm. The thought of his daughter lying ill while he was miles away tormented him. He hadn''t even heard about her illness until now-from someone else, no less. He felt like aplete failure as a father.

    Trying to steady himself, he asked, "Which hospital? I''ming now." "Crestwood Hospital," Ingrid replied.

    An hourter, Raymond arrived at the hospital in a flurry, looking every bit the distinguished executive.

    Ingrid recognized him immediately-he was the same man who had helped make Citrine''s bed on move-in day. For the longest time, she''d assumed he was Citrine''s older brother.

    "Hello, Mr. Carmichael." Ingrid greeted him politely.

    Raymond managed a courteous smile. "Hello. Thank you for looking after Citrine. I''m grateful she has such a considerate roommate."

    There was something imposing about Raymond''s presence that made Ingrid instinctively nervous. She smiled, a bit awkwardly. "It''s nothing, really. We''re friends-it''s what friends do. Well, I''d better get back to campus, sir."

    Once Ingrid had left, Raymond double-checked with the doctors to make sure Citrine was truly out of danger before he finally rxed.

    He settled quietly at her bedside, watching his daughter as she slept.

    He''d been wondering if Citrine would miss him now that she''d started college, but it turned out he was the one who couldn''t stand being apart¡ªnot even for a few days.

 Chapter 305

    By midday, Citrine''s fever had finally broken. The fog in her mind slowly lifted, and as she blinked awake, a familiar silhouette came into focus.

    Raymond? That couldn''t be. Wasn''t he supposed to be in Havencrest? There was no way he''d be here-she must still be delirious.

    But then that unmistakable figure stepped right up to her bedside, the surprise clear in his voice. "Citrine, you''re awake! Are you hungry?"

    It wasn''t a dream. She was suddenly, acutely aware of that.

    "What are you doing here?" she blurted out, still confused. He was supposed to be in Havencrest-why was he standing in her hospital room?

    Raymond just sighed, a blend of exasperation and affection in his words. "Silly girl. You''re sick. Of course your dad''s here to take care of you."

    When Citrine tried to sit up, he was quick to help, adjusting the bed and arranging the pillows behind her so she''d befortable.

    "What would you like to eat? I''ll go grab it for you." He hadn''t seen her for only two days, but Raymond was sure she''d lost weight. The thought tugged at his heart.

    "I want beef pie," Citrine said, her voice scratchy and soft. Maybe it was the illness, but she felt unusually vulnerable.

    There was something about being sick that stripped away her usual defenses. Hearing her father''s gentle fussing, she felt her eyes sting with tears she stubbornly refused to shed.

    "Alright," Raymond said, his smile warm and a little proud. He loved fussing over his daughter. "I''ll get it for you right now."

    As soon as he left, Citrine froze. She''d just let her guard down in front of her father-shown him a side of herself she''d never meant to reveal. Why? She was supposed to be unbreakable.

    Leaving the Carmichael family anding to Crestwood for college was her first step toward independence, away from everything she''d known. This was exactly the path she had nned for herself so why didn''t it feel right? Why couldn''t she summon any happiness?

    Frowning, she stared nkly out the window, her thoughts tangled.

    A few minutester, Raymond returned with a piping hot beef pie. Citrine hadn''t moved-she was still lost in her thoughts, eyes fixed on the world beyond the ss.

    He set the food down in front of her, bringing her slowly back to the present. The savory aroma made her stomach rumble.

    First things first: she needed to eat.

    She took a bite, her eyes going wide with delight. "This is really good," she said, grinning and giving Raymond a thumbs-up.

    Seeing her enjoy the meal, Raymond couldn''t help but feel happy too. But as he watched his daughter, a pang of mncholy hit him-she''d be at university for four years. Four years of being apart, of seeing her only on rare visits.

    After a pause, he spoke up. "Citrine, I''ve been thinking about moving thepany to Crestwood. What do you think?"

    He''d already made up his mind, really.

    Citrine looked startled. She suspected his decision had something to do with her, but she still asked, "Why?"

    Raymond didn''t bother to hide his intentions. "So I can be closer to you, of course. I can''t stand the thought of barely seeing you for four years."

    Citrine pressed her lips together. She was shocked, maybe even a little moved, but she didn''t let it show. "Do what you want."

    Raymond knew his daughter well enough to recognize her brand of stubborn affection. Her words meant she was secretly pleased.

    Moving thepany was a sudden decision and would take months to pull off, but he was determined.

    Citrine''s illness hade fast and left just as quickly. By the next afternoon, she was feeling much better, and the doctor cleared her to go home.

    Raymond handled her discharge, then took her out for a proper meal before dropping her off at campus.

    Before he left, he pressed a set of keys into her hand.

 Chapter 306

    "Your dad bought you a huge new condo in Verona Heights, right by campus. It''s all set up-fully furnished, stocked with everything you could possibly need, and thetest seasonal clothes are already in the closet. I''ve also arranged for our housekeeper toe by and cook for you. Here are the keys."

    "Oh, and you can drive any of the cars in the garage. The keys are in the top drawer of your bedroom dresser."

    Citrine took the keys, momentarily at a loss for words. She nced at Raymond, and said sincerely, "Thank you."

    "Thank me? I''m your father, that''s what I''m here for." Raymond just shook his head, half amused, half exasperated.

    They chatted a bit longer before finally saying their goodbyes.

    It was still afternoon when Citrine returned to her dorm. No sooner had she walked in than Ingrid and the others practically tackled her in a group hug.

    They''d only been apart for a day, but it seemed like her friends had a million things to say.

    "Citrine, you''re finally back! We missed you so much."

    Ingrid clung to Citrine''s arm,ining about the "inhumane treatment" they''d suffered in her absence.

    "You have no idea what we went through with you gone."

    "This Sergeant Hastings is a monster. He made us crawl through the mud like we were in boot camp. You should''ve seen the state we were in by the time we got back."

    Citrine let them pull her this way and that, patiently listening to their stories.

    Once they''d finished venting, she pulled out several brand-new, still-sealed tablets and set them on the table.

    "These are for you guys. Thanks for taking me to the hospital."

    The others stared at the boxes in shock.

    Ingrid''s eyes went wide, as if she''d just seen a ghost. "Wait... isn''t this thetest

    ''Ster'' tablet from CICI Group-the Havencrest techpany?"

    "And... these are pre-release models! How did you even get them?"

    Jane and Lisa stared at Citrine, equally stunned.

    CICI Group was the rising star of Havencrest, a household name by now. Their electronics, medical equipment, and pharmaceuticals had taken the national market by storm.

    Even in Crestwood, everyone had heard of them.

    ording to recent reports, CICI''s Ster series had topped national sales charts

    for phones, tablets, andputers this year.

    Given their quality, it was no surprise CICI''s products didn''te cheap.

    Especially these pre-release models-they started at over a thousand dors each.

    Citrine noticed her friends staring and just smiled. "I have some connections at CICI Group. Someone from thepany gave them to me."

    Ingrid blinked. "CICI Group? CICI? Citrine..."

    She suddenly grinned. "Wait a second-don''t tell me you''re the secret CEO behind CICI Group?"

    Of course, Ingrid was only joking.

    But Citrine nodded,pletely serious. "That''s right."

    "Citrine, you''re funnier than I thought," Janeughed, rolling her eyes. None of them took her words seriously.

    Sure, ¡°CICI" and "Citrine" used the same letters, but nobody would connect a Fortune 500pany to an eighteen-year-old freshman.

    It was just too ridiculous.

    Citrine only smiled and didn''t bother to exin. "Just take them. It''s really nothing for me."

    After a few days together, her friends already knew Citrine''s background was anything but ordinary, so they didn''t protest too much.

    Ingrid was the first to snatch up a tablet. "You got it, my rich bestie. I''d happily be your loyal sidekick forever."

    Jane grinned. "Same here. We''ll work ourselves to the bone for you, Citrine."

    Thatst line was so out of character for Jane that Citrine couldn''t help but burst outughing.

 Chapter 307

    CICI Group''s electronics were all the rage among young people, and as soon as Ingrid and the others got their hands on thetest gadgets, they couldn''t wait to tear open the packaging.

    A whileter, Jane suddenly remembered something she''d seen online. She nced up and asked, "Citrine, since you''re connected to CICI Group, do you know anything about the rumor that they bought a building downtown in Crestwood about six months ago? People are saying they''re moving their headquarters here this October. Is it true, or just inte gossip?"

    Citrine nodded, making no effort to hide the truth. ¡°It''s real."

    In fact, not only CICI Group, but all herpanies would soon have their headquarters in Crestwood. There were still many things she needed to aplish here.

    "That''s amazing!" Jane''s excitement was impossible to miss.

    "What''s got you so happy?" Ingrid asked, half-curious, half-teasing.

    Jane pressed her lips together, a hint of pride in her voice. "CICI Group is my dreampany. I''ve wanted to join their R&D department ever since I was in high school. That''s been my goal for years."

    Ingrid rolled her eyes, giving Jane a dramatic look. "CICI''s on fire right now; they''re the industry leader. Getting in won''t be easy-prepare to work yourself to the bone all through college if you want a shot."

    "I''m ready for that," Jane replied, determination shining in her eyes. She''d dly do whatever it took if it meant working there.

    Citrine quietly listened to their exchange, saying nothing.

    The next day, Citrine joined Ingrid and the others on their way to the training grounds.

    That morning, as soon as Hastings arrived, he instinctively scanned the crowd for that petite figure. He figured she was probably too exhausted from yesterday to show up today¡ªshe was so small, she''d probably had a tough time with the drills.

    Just as he was about to give up looking, he spotted Citrine tucked away in the corner, half-hidden behind her ssmates.

    A barely perceptible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

    At that exact moment, Citrine''s gaze met his. She caught the hint of a smile and, with a glint of mischief in her eyes, gave him a tiny smirk in return.

    Hastings looked away, as if her gaze had burned him.

    In the days that followed, Hastings stopped singling Citrine out like he used to. Gradually, his animosity faded, reced by a quiet respect that grew with every grueling training session. His perception of her shifted-first admiration, then genuine respect.

    The month flew by, and when the final assessment came, Citrine finished first in the entire training group.

    By the end of September, military training was officially over. On thest day, the school organized a farewell gathering for the instructors at the training field, attendance optional.

    Most students showed up anyway, many reluctant to say goodbye-some even cried at the thought of their instructors leaving.

    Hastings, being the youngest and most handsome among the instructors, naturally attracted quite a crowd of well-wishers.

    Kali even requested permission toe just to see him off.

    Gazing up at his handsome face, she said softly, "Hastings, I''m really going to miss you."

    He smiled and ruffled her soft hair. "If you ever miss me, Kali, you can call me anytime."

    His voice was gentle for once-but as he spoke, his eyes kept drifting toward the freshmen dorms, searching for someone he never spotted. Not that he expected her to show up, after the way he''d treated her. Why would shee? For some reason, a strange sense of disappointment crept into his heart.

    Kali noticed his distracted expression, her own smile faltering. Suddenly, she remembered the message she''d gotten from Citrine out of the blue the other day. An uneasy feeling began to gnaw at her, and she found herself desperate to know exactly where she stood in Hastings''s heart.

 Chapter 308

    She stared straight at Hastings, her eyes wide and searching. In a careful, almost timid voice, she asked, "Hastings, you once told me I was the most important person in your life. I just want to know... am I still?"

    Kali''s gaze was deadly serious, brimming with a desperate need for reassurance.

    Hastings couldn''t quite figure out why she was asking this now. He hesitated, then finally replied, "Of course you are."

    Relief washed over Kali the moment she heard the answer she''d been hoping for. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but she quickly swapped it for a pout, putting on her best wounded expression as sheined, "Hastings, you have no idea how awful that freshman you''re mentoring-Citrine Carmichael- has been."

    At the mention of that familiar name, Hastings'' eyebrows rose. "Citrine Carmichael? What did she do?"

    Kali perked up instantly, all too eager to spill the details. She pulled out her phone and handed it to him. "She sent me a video of you two sparring."

    "And..." Kali hesitated, as if what came next was too humiliating to say out loud, "she said some pretty nasty things about you."

    Hastings took her phone and clicked on the video. It was from a month ago¡ª footage of his training session with Citrine.

    When the video ended, he finally noticed the string of messages Citrine had sent along with it.

    "Kali, your dog''s loyal, but honestly, he''s useless."

    "I mean,pared to Sebastian, he''s nowhere close."

    "I bet you didn''t know this, but Sebastian is so gentle and thoughtful. There was this one time... He actually pulled me into his arms because he was afraid I''d get scared. Have you ever been that close to him?"

    As Hastings read these words, something hot and furious red up inside him. Kali, pretending to be even more outraged, huffed, "Did you see that? Not only did she call you a dog, she even said you''re not as good as Sebastian."

    Hastings had always liked Kali, and nothing got under his skin faster than hearing someone say he wasn''t as good as Sebastian. Thest person who''d made thatparison had ended up with their entire life in ruins, courtesy of Hastings himself.

    Sensing his silence, Kali leaned in, fanning the mes, "Seriously, she''s gone way too far. How can she say those things about you?"

    "I won''t let her get away with it." Hastings'' voice was cold as steel, eyes locked on the screen, the lines of text reflecting in his darkening gaze.

    But Kali had no idea that what truly drove Hastings to the edge wasn''t being called a dog. It was Citrine''sst sentence.

    What exactly was going on between her and Sebastian? Why had Sebastian

    been holding her? When had they gotten that close?

    A strange, destructive urge welled up inside him.

    Noticing something off in his expression, Kali''s worry spiked. ¡°Hastings, are you okay?"

    "I''m fine, Kali." The moment he heard her voice, Hastings forced himself to smooth out his features.

    He didn''t understand why he''d lost control like that. Normally, with Kali around, he could keep his cool. But today, something was different-he was on edge, impulsive.

    Only Kali knew just how furious she''d been when she''d first received those messages. She''d been so angry, she''d nearly smashed her phone-if she could have, she would''ve wrung Citrine''s neck.

    She narrowed her eyes at Hastings, hoping-no, needing not to be disappointed by him.

    Meanwhile, across town in a cozy bistro, Citrine and Ingrid sat with a group of friends, raising their sses in celebration of surviving the grueling month-long boot camp.

    The moment training ended, they''d bolted from the field without a backward nce. As for saying goodbye to their drill instructor-well, the thought hadn''t even crossed their minds.

    After a month of being pushed to their limits by Hastings, the group fantasized about giving him a taste of his own medicine-let alone sending him off with any well wishes.

 Chapter 309

    After the grueling days of orientation training, the long-awaited fall break finally arrived.

    The night before the holiday, Citrine was having dinner with her roommates when her phone suddenly buzzed-it was a call from Raymond.

    The restaurant was noisy, and Citrine could barely hear him, so she put the call on speaker.

    "Citrine, when are youing home?" Raymond''s voice carried a hint of anticipation.

    Citrine hesitated, unsure how to tell him she wasn''t nning toe back.

    When she stayed silent, Raymond rushed to fill the gap. "Your dad and grandpa miss you so much. When are youing home? I''ll have Wilma make your favorite little cake."

    A man known for his decisiveness in the business world now sounded almost pleading, as if terrified his daughter might refuse toe home.

    In this moment, Raymond was nothing but a father longing for his daughter''s return.

    Citrine pressed her lips together, suddenly feeling a pang of guilt. She changed her mind in an instant, smiling as she said, "I''lle home tomorrow."

    On the other end, Raymond exhaled in relief, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. "Then I''ll have the family''s private ne pick you up tomorrow."

    "Alright," Citrine replied.

    With that, she promptly hung up.

    She set her phone down and was about to resume eating, only to realize her roommates had stopped mid-bite, staring at her with wide eyes.

    "What''s with those looks?" Citrine blinked in confusion.

    She picked up her phone to check her reflection. "Do I have something on my face?"

    Her roommates, Ingrid and the others, had overheard the entire conversation.

    Ingrid stared at Citrine, for the first time acutely aware of the gulf between ordinary people and the truly wealthy.

    She swallowed nervously. "Citrine, what kind of family do youe from? They''re sending a private jet for you?"

    Jane chimed in, "A real-life heiress, right here."

    Lisa grinned, "Guess we lucked out with our roommate."

    Ingrid gazed at Citrine with open envy. "And your dad spoils you so much."

    Citrine just smiled. ¡°Come on, I''m the mastermind behind CICI Group. What''s a private jet to me?"

    "Alright, alright, our big boss has us covered!"

    "President Carmichael, we''re sticking with you no matter what!" Jane joked.

    The girls burst outughing, thinking Citrine was ying along with the joke fromst time. No one took it seriously.

    Citrine just smiled, letting it go without further exnation.

    The next morning, Citrine headed home.

    The entire Carmichael family was gathered, waiting for her return.

    When Citrine walked in, she found everyone seated neatly around the dining table. The table was piled high with food, but no one had touched a thing.

    "I''m home," Citrine announced, ncing at the expectant faces.

    "Citrine, you''ve lost weight," Raymond''s father, Weston Carmichael, rose and walked over, taking Citrine''s luggage from her. His eyes were suspiciously bright.

    Manley Carmichael added, "And you''ve gotten a bit of a tan."

    "Come on, Citrine," Raymond called warmly. "I had Wilma make your favorite

    cake, and everything on the table is what you like best."

    Citrine nced at the spread-every dish was vegetarian, just the way she liked

    it.

    So... this is what it feels like toe home?

    A strange ache twisted in Citrine''s chest.

    Turns out, having someone wait for you doesn''t mean you''re about to be scolded.

    Back when she lived with the Iversons, she was just an afterthought¡ªno one cared where she was, let alone waited up for her.

    If she''d ever kept the Iverson family waiting, she''d have been in for a lecture.

    Now, with everyone''s eyes on her, Citrine took her seat beside Travis Carmichael.

    It had been a month since the Carmichaels had seen her, and the moment she sat down, Weston started fussing over her,pletely forgetting his old rule: No talking at the table, no chatting before bed.

 Chapter 310

    They finished their meal, and Citrine headed off to Siren''s Whisper to meet up with her old friends.

    No sooner had she stepped inside than Amelia Lawson practicallyunched herself into Citrine''s arms.

    "Citrine, I''ve missed you so much!" Amelia cried. Her time at Havencrest University had been fine, but nothing made up for not having her best friend around.

    Sometimes, Amelia even regretted not applying to Crestwood University¡ªif she had, she''d be closer to Citrine right now.

    "I''ve missed you too," Citrine replied, hugging Amelia back just as tightly. Of course she''d missed her.

    Amelia pouted, her voice full of wounded usation. "No, there''s no way you missed me as much as I missed you."

    Her words caught with emotion. "You have no idea¡ªI''ve barely been eating or sleeping. I keep worrying you''ve found another best friend over there at Crestwood."

    She wiped her slightly reddened eyes and dered possessively, "I don''t care. You''re not allowed to make new friends behind my back. And even if you do, none of them can ever be as close as we are. We''re the best-number one, always." Citrine couldn''t help butugh at her friend''s childishness. ¡°Alright, I promise.¡±

    They clung to each other a little longer before finally letting go.

    Just then, Travis and Sylvan''s drinks and fruit tter arrived.

    The server paused briefly in the doorway, clearly startled, but quickly lowered his gaze and tried to act as if nothing was amiss. He set the food and drinks on the table, then silently turned to leave.

    Travis, lounging on the couch with one leg crossed over the other, nced up and caught a partial view of the server''s face.

    He sat up straight and called out, "Hey, you-turn around."

    The server hesitated, then slowly turned. It was Clifford Iverson.

    Travis''s eyes widened in disbelief. "Clifford? What are you doing here?"

    Everyone else in the room turned to stare at Clifford as well.

    Realizing he''d been recognized, Clifford stopped pretending and looked up at Citrine, who was surrounded by her friends at the center of the group. His voice was rough. "Citrine."

    Citrine ignored him.

    Travis''s dislike for the Iversons ran deep; seeing Clifford brought so low, he couldn''t help but sneer. "Well, look at that. Karma really doese around."

    "What''s the great Mr. Iverson doing working here, huh? Has the Iverson family finally run out of luck¡ªso much so you''re working on Carmichael turf now?" "That''s none of your business," Clifford muttered through clenched teeth. Travis let out a sharpugh. "Still acting tough, even now?"

    He shot a look at Sylvan. "Sylvan, why don''t you help loosen him up a bit? I prefer broken bones to stubborn ones."

    Since hanging around Citrine, they hadn''t gotten into a good old-fashioned brawl in ages. Travis and the others were itching for action.

    Sylvan grinned and cracked his knuckles. "No problem, Travis."

    Carney and Springer perked up at the prospect, suddenly all energy.

    The group advanced on Clifford together.

    Sylvan kicked Clifford''s legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. The drinks on the table toppled and shattered, ss scattering everywhere.

    Pinned down on the shards, Clifford took the full brunt of their blows. Everyone knew about the bad blood between him and Citrine, so no one held back.

    He tried to shield his head, offering no resistance. Bruises and welts quickly bloomed across his face and body, but he never fought back-he just endured it in silence.

    Meanwhile, Travis nced over at his sister and said gently, "Hey, Citrine, did you know? Clifford didn''t even get into college. He''s repeating his final year at Havencrest Technical College."

    Citrine didn''t spare Clifford a single nce. Her tone was airy, almost indifferent. "No surprise there. You can''t polish a lost cause."

 Chapter 311

    Clifford felt as if someone had gouged a hole straight through his heart at Citrine''s words. The pain was almost physical.

    She wasn''t wrong. He really was a hopeless mess, incapable of getting his act together.

    Travis nced at Citrine with a smirk and scoffed, "He''s the only one in your whole graduating ss at Primus Academy who didn''t get into college. Honestly, how did someone like him even get epted in the first ce?"

    Citrine said nothing, but Clifford''s eyes snapped to her the moment he heard Travis''s words.

    He remembered the day he tried to sign up to repeat his senior year. Clifford had gone to see the principal at Primus Academy, desperate for another chance.

    With the Iverson family now fallen from grace, there was no way he could afford the steep tuition at Elegance Peak Academy. Havencrest Technical College was more affordable, sure, but its resources and reputation were a far cry from what he wanted. When he weighed his options, Primus Academy was the obvious choice-good teachers, low tuition.

    So, clinging to a sliver of hope, Clifford had gone to the principal and pleaded for a spot to repeat his final year, promising he''d catch up and keep pace with the rest of the ss.

    But in the end, the principal turned him down. "Your scores aren''t high enough to qualify for a repeat year at Primus Academy," he''d said.

    Scores. What a joke. Clifford knew the truth-it was because the Iversons had lost their money.

    Anger had red inside him. He''d shouted at the principal, "Let''s not pretend. The Iversons go bankrupt and suddenly you get all high and mighty? When I was scraping the bottom of the rankings year after year, I never saw you threaten to kick me out. Now that my family''s broke, you show your true colors."

    Primus Academy had a strict rule: the bottom five students every month were supposed to be expelled. Yet somehow, he''d managed to be the only one who didn''t get tossed out, no matter how bad his grades got.

    Everyone at school whispered that the Iversons'' influence in Havencrest was the reason he got special treatment.

    Clifford had always believed that too.

    But the principal, seeing how upset he was, must have worried Clifford would do something reckless. He finally broke down and told him the truth.

    "Listen, the only reason you got to stay at Primus Academy was because of Citrine-not the Iverson family. They had nothing to do with it."

    Clifford froze, utterly stunned. "Citrine?" he repeated, dumbstruck.

    The principal sighed. "Citrine''s an exceptional student. We wanted her to transfer here more than anything, but she refused at first. The only way we convinced her was by promising to admit you too-and not expel you, no matter what."

    Clifford stood there for a long time, lost in thought as the truth sank in.

    Suddenly, memories came flooding back. Back then, when Citrine had just returned from abroad, she''d nned to attend Elegance Peak Academy-just like he did at the time.

    But Clifford, desperate to be closer to Jete Iverson, had tried again and again to get into Primus Academy, always falling short. He''d vented his frustration to Citrine in passing, not expecting anything toe of it.

    The very next day, he received an eptance letter from Primus Academy.

    Until now, Clifford had always assumed Jete had pulled some strings with Sawyer Iverson to get him in. He''d never imagined...it was actually Citrine.

    With hindsight, everything became clear. Who had really cared about him all along was obvious.

    He''d been such a fool-blind to the difference between those who truly cared and those who didn''t.

    Jete was always top of the ss, but never once had she offered to help her underachieving brother. Instead, she encouraged him to skip sses, to go out and y games. How could anyone im to care about him while watching him ruin his own life?

    Citrine, on the other hand, had always been on his case when she lived with the Iversons. She''d constantly reminded him to study, slipped him practice tests and notes. He''d shouted at her every time, told her off-yet she never gave up on him. Little did she know, he''d never bothered to look at those notes or exercises. He''d stuffed them in a corner, letting them gather dust.

    Thinking of this, Clifford''s chest tightened with regret and a dull ache.

 Chapter 312

    A month and a half ago, Clifford had turned his house upside down, searching every nook and cranny until he finally found those thick stacks of practice exams and notes.

    The moment he flipped them open, his eyes burned with tears.

    He could recognize Citrine''s handwriting anywhere. Clifford could tell that every single page-half a meter high-had been painstakingly written by her, every stroke of the pen her own. She''d even highlighted the tricky topics, themon pitfalls, and marked out the most important concepts, making everything crystal clear.

    After that, Clifford locked himself in his room, eyes red and swollen from crying. He carefully wiped every page clean, arranging the notes and exercises neatly on his desk as if they were priceless treasures.

    For the next month and a half, Clifford barely left his room except for a single meal each day. The rest of the time he spent buried in those notes, working through the problems, reading and rereading every word she''d written.

    When the six weeks were up, he sat the entrance exam for Primus Academy. Thanks to Citrine''s notes, he passed.

    But he didn''t go. He told himself he didn''t deserve it.

    Now, Cliffordy motionless on the ground. Travis nced over, waved his hand, and signaled the others to stop.

    The private room reeked of blood, the stench thick and nauseating. Travis turned to his sister, his voice gentle. "Let''s get out of here, Citrine. This ce is a dump. Let''s go somewhere better."

    ¡°Sure,¡± Citrine replied, shing him a sweet, untroubled smile.

    She stood up and walked toward the door.

    Just as she reached the threshold, something yanked her pant leg, holding her back with desperate strength.

    Citrine looked down, her face unreadable. There was a streak of blood across the fabric where she''d been grabbed. Her nose wrinkled in disgust.

    "Gross," she muttered. "These are brand new pants."

    Clifford froze, his hand still clutching her leg, but suddenly all the strength drained from his grip.

    Feeling her pant leg released, Citrine curled her lips in a smirk and didn''t bother looking back.

    Travis, on the other hand, didn''t rush to leave.

    After Citrine stepped out, he crouched down in front of Clifford, eyeing him with smug amusement, almost savoring the sight of him so battered and broken. "Honestly, Clifford, you had iting. Want to know which university I got into?" Clifford didn''t answer.

    Travis didn''t seem to mind. He went on, "Havencrest University."

    He let out a shortugh. "I was a total screw-up. There were times I thought I''d never amount to anything. Then Citrine came along. She was like sunlight-she warmed me up, believed in me, cheered me on, yed games with me, helped me study. She took a loser and turned him into someone people actually respect."

    "Citrine is the kindest, most wonderful person I''ve ever met. My grades? All thanks to her. Without her, I wouldn''t be here. Back then, the idea of getting into Havencrest was a joke to me."

    Clifford looked like a wounded wolf, his gaze sharp and wild as he red at Travis, as if he might lunge and tear out his throat at any second.

    Travis just smiled, clearly enjoying himself. "If Citrine had stayed by your side, maybe you''d be the one heading to Havencrest now, and I''d be stuck repeating a year at the local tech college. But she''s gone, Clifford. You and your family lost her. That''s on you. You''ll regret it for the rest of your lives."

    Clifford''s voice was a ragged growl, blood bubbling on his lips. "You... you stole my sister from me."

    He kept repeating it, as if the words themselves were all he had left. "Citrine is my sister."

    Travis''s face darkened. In a sh, he mmed his foot into Clifford''s chest.

    "No, Clifford. You''re the one who took my sister away. The Iversons took her in, but never treated her right. And you-her own brother-took all her kindness for granted, hurt her again and again."

    Still seething, Travis stomped on Clifford''s face.

    "If it hadn''t been for you, I could''ve grown up with Citrine. And if I''d been the one

    by her side, I swear, I would''ve protected her with my life. No one would''ve dared hurt her."

 Chapter 313

    Citrine had been away for a month,pletely unaware that, during her absence, something huge had shaken Havencrest to its core.

    Dick Glenwood''spany had gone bankrupt, and every music store under its name had been forced to close.

    A few years back, Dick had tried to solidify his position in Havencrest by scamming several local business owners into investing in his projects. Those unfortunate enough to trust him lost everything; some were left so ruined that their families fell apart.

    At first, several of these victims tried to press fraud charges against Dick, but, for reasons no one could quite exin, the whole affair was quietly swept under the rug. The people who had once spoken up deleted their posts from social media, vanishing from the public eye entirely.

    But just recently, those same victims suddenly banded together online, firmly insisting on bringing Dick to justice for fraud.

    The story exploded, trending on every major tform and spreading like wildfire.

    At the same time, all of Dick''s music stores were exposed for selling counterfeit branded instruments. On top of that, rumors surfaced about Dick having inappropriate rtionships with certain piano teachers at his stores.

    The reputation of the business was utterly destroyed.

    It wasn''t until Citrine heard from Carlotta Yarbrough that Raymond was the one orchestrating all of this behind the scenes that she truly lost herposure.

    Why would Raymond go after Dick?

    Citrine couldn''t make sense of it.

    That morning, as soon as she finished talking to Carlotta, she immediately headed to Raymond''s office.

    Lately, she''d noticed that Raymond hadn''t taken a single day off-not even for the national holidays. Was something going on at The Carmichael Group?

    The more Citrine thought about it, the more uneasy she felt.

    A few minutester, she arrived at The Carmichael Group''s headquarters. As soon as she walked through the doors, the receptionist spotted her and hurried

    over.

    "Miss Carmichael, you''re here! President Carmichael is in the conference room right now," the young woman said with a bright, respectful smile.

    Citrine nodded politely and made her way to Raymond''s private elevator.

    No sooner had the doors closed behind her than a group of employees downstairs clustered together, whispering excitedly.

    "Wow, that''s the famous Miss Carmichael! I thought she looked stunning in pictures, but she''s even prettier in person."

    Thest time Citrine had visited The Carmichael Group, someone had snapped her photo and shared it in thepany chat. Now, everyone knew exactly what President Carmichael''s daughter looked like.

    "How does President Carmichael-so cold and serious-have such an adorable daughter?"

    "She''s so tiny and pale, I could just melt!"

    "Don''t let her looks fool you-she''s brilliant, too. Did you hear? Miss Carmichael had the highest scores in Havencrest''s senior exams this year. She got into Crestwood University!"

    "No way, that''s amazing. No wonder President Carmichael dotes on her. If I had a daughter like that, I''d spoil her rotten, too."

    Citrine made her way to Raymond''s office. He was still in a senior staff meeting, but as soon as Adler told him Citrine had arrived, he ended the meeting and rushed over.

    "Citrine, what brings you here?" Raymond asked, worry etched on his face. Usually, Citrine would let him know in advance if she wasing. Showing up unannounced like this could only mean something was wrong.

    Citrine dropped casually into a chair, fixing Raymond with a rare, serious look. She didn''t bother with small talk. "Was it you who took down Dick''spany?" Raymond looked surprised, which was as good as an admission. "How did you find out?"

    "I have my connections," Citrine replied, pressing her lips together and looking at him with a surprisingly mature air.

    Raymond couldn''t help butugh at her expression.

    Seeing him smile, Citrine let out a helpless sigh.

    She leaned forward, her tone grave. "Dick''s not alone. He''s got people backing him, and once they realize what''s happened, they''ll trace it back to you. Dick and his crowd are notorious for ying dirty-you need to be careful. They''re not easy to guard against."

 Chapter 314

    Citrine''s worry was impossible to miss in her voice.

    Raymond paused, feeling a warmth in his chest. He reached out and gently tousled his daughter''s hair, his tone soft and reassuring. "You just focus on being happy. I''ll take care of everything."

    Citrine frowned. "Dick isn''t really a threat on his own, but the people backing him are another story."

    She suspected that the Glenwood family might be behind Dick. If that was true, they''d definitely make a move against Raymond.

    Just picturing the Glenwoods and their dirty tricks made Citrine''s expression darken.

    "Don''t worry, Citrine. No matter who''s behind him, I''m not afraid." Raymond knew as well as she did that Dick''s supporters weren''t simple, but he had his own scores to settle with Dick.

    A momentter, something seemed to ur to Citrine. She looked at him curiously. "Why are you going after Dick anyway?"

    From her perspective, Dick''s business didn''t evenpete with the Carmichael family''s, and since his backers were such a headache, it made no sense for Raymond to target him. She couldn''t figure out his motivation.

    Raymond hesitated, lowering his gaze. "It''s personal between us."

    Hearing that, Citrine didn''t press any further.

    Just as she was about to leave, another thought struck her. "Wait, isn''t today a holiday? Doesn''t yourpany get the day off for Independence Day?"

    In truth, thepany had been pushing hard for over a month to move headquarters to Crestwood, with everyone working overtime-but he''d at least been paying triple wages.

    Raymond was caught off guard by her question and misread her intention, thinking she wanted him to stay home with her.

    "Do you want us to take the day off?" he asked.

    Citrine paused, then said, "Your employees must be exhausted. They should really get some rest while they can."

    She''d only mentioned it in passing, and left without another word.

    But as soon as she was gone, Raymond instructed his assistant to announce apany-wide holiday.

    The news hit the office chat group immediately.

    "Whoa, did President Carmichael have a few drinks or something?" one of the senior female managers joked in the group chat.

    Oddly, no one replied for a long moment. Normally, a message like that would set off a string ofments, but today the chat was dead silent.

    Just as she started to feel uneasy, a coworker nudged her arm and whispered, "Hey, you posted that in the wrong group."

    She nced at her phone-her heart dropped. She''d sent it to the main group, the one with the boss in it.

    Two minutes had passed; there was no way to delete it.

    As she frantically tried to think of an excuse, her phone vibrated with a new message.

    From the Big Boss himself: "No, I haven''t been drinking. My daughter said the staff are tired, and I agree."

    Her inner voice screamed: He could''ve just left it at ''my daughter said''¡ªwhy add ''I agree''?

    She stared at the boss''s message in disbelief. Everyone knew that in the past, if anyone posted something off-topic in the main group, President Carmichael would drag them into his office for a dressing-down that left asting trauma.

    Meanwhile, the employee chat was buzzing with excitement.

    "Girl, you got so lucky today-the boss''s daughter showed up, and President Carmichael''s in a good mood."

    "She''s our lucky charm! What do I do, I think I love her even more now."

    "She really gets what it''s like to be a tired wage ve. Why can''t she be my boss instead?"

    "Honestly, when''s President Carmichael going to step down and let his daughter take over?"

    "I can already picture what bliss it would be to work for her."

 Chapter 315

    Just as Citrine had guessed, a few dayster, Dick posted a statement online denying the fraud allegations. He even pushed forward one of his employees to take the me and confess to the crime.

    With that, Dick neatly sidestepped any prison time.

    When Sawyer heard about the Glenwood family''stest drama, he rushed straight to their estate to find Jete.

    But the Glenwood family lived in a gated neighborhood, and Sawyer couldn''t get past security. So he simply waited outside, hoping to catch her. Evening had already set in when he finally spotted Jete returning home.

    She was walking arm-in-arm between Dick and Aline, the three of themughing together as if they were the perfect little family.

    Sawyer stood frozen, watching as his ex-wife, Aline, rose up on tiptoe and nted a kiss on Dick''s cheek.

    His daughter, Jete, looked from Dick to Aline, her face flushed with embarrassment as she pressed her hands to her cheeks. "Come on, Dad, Mom, get a room! That''s so embarrassing."

    Dad? Jete just called Dick "Dad."

    A sharp pain stabbed through Sawyer''s chest. His expression darkened as he strode over and, without warning, punched Dick square in the jaw.

    ¡°You sick bastard!" Sawyer''s eyes were red with fury. "She''s my daughter, and you let her call you ''Dad''? What the hell is wrong with you?"

    He barely cared about Aline anymore, but Jete was his flesh and blood. Even if she''d chosen to live with Aline, she still carried the Iverson name-there was no way Sawyer would give up on his own daughter.

    Face grim, Sawyer grabbed Jete and pulled her to his side.

    ¡°Jete, you''reing home with me. Dick''s a deranged con-man¡ªif you stay here, he''ll ruin you."

    Dick rubbed his sore jaw, his face twisted with anger. "What are you talking about? Who are you calling a con-man? Everything online has already been cleared up."

    Sawyer let out a bitterugh. "Cleared up? Do you think I''m an idiot? You really think finding some scapegoat to take the fall fixes everything?"

    Dick just shrugged, a smug smile on his lips. "So what if I did? Listen, Jete is my daughter now. Forget about taking her away."

    With that, he reached out, trying to pull Jete back from Sawyer.

    Sawyer''sugh was cold and hollow. "I''m her real father. What right do you have to fight me for her?"

    "Fight?" Dick''s mouth curled into a mocking grin. He turned to Jete. "Well, Jete, what do you say? Do you want to go with him?"

    Sawyer opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, Jete yanked her hand free from his grip.

    He stared at her in disbelief. "Jete, I''m your father."

    But Jete darted behind Dick, looking at Sawyer with a cold, almost unfamiliar gaze. "Mr. Iverson, Dick is my real dad now. You''re just my ex-father."

    Sawyer had only been her dad for a little while, after all. It was never by blood.

    Jete had wanted to tell Sawyer the truth many times, but Aline had always warned her not to-saying it would only make trouble.

    "Mr. Iverson? Ex-father?" Sawyer''s whole body shook.

    He looked at Jete, a storm raging behind his eyes. "How can you be so heartless? After everything I''ve done for you all these years?"

    Jete didn''t flinch. "You were good to me, I guess. But I''m tired of being poor. I want to be rich, and that''s that." She shot him a look of utter contempt.

    She practically shouted, "My dad he can give me everything. With him, I can be the kind of girl who doesn''t have to worry about money ever again."

    "But you, Sawyer, what do you have? What can you give me? Should I end up like Clifford-working part-time jobs everywhere, embarrassing myself just to make ends meet?"

    Dick ruffled Jete''s hair affectionately, then threw Sawyer a taunting look. "You hear that, Sawyer? You''re nothing but a loser now-you can''t give Jete anything. How dare you want her to follow you and suffer?"

 Chapter 316

    After Dick finished speaking, he wrapped his arms around his wife and daughter, and without a backward nce, led them inside.

    This time, Sawyer didn''t try to stop him.

    He wandered home in a daze, only to find Clifford sprawled on the couch, bruised and battered. Sawyer''s face changed instantly. He rushed over. "Weren''t you supposed to be at work? What happened to you?"

    "I ran into Citrine," Clifford said, barely lifting his eyelids, his eyes empty and tired.

    Sawyer blinked in surprise. "Citrine? What does she have to do with your injuries?"

    Clifford shook his head. "Nothing. I just fell. Serves me right, anyway."

    But Sawyer could guess the truth without being told.

    He let out a heavy sigh. "Citrine won''t acknowledge us anymore. I guess we have to ept it."

    Clifford nced at him. "Where''d you go today, Dad?"

    The mention of Jete made Sawyer''s face darken, but he didn''t bother to hide it. "I went to see Jete."

    Clifford''s temper red. He ignored his own pain, snapping at Sawyer, "You went to her again? She can''t wait to cut us all off, and you still chase after her."

    He gave a humorlessugh. "Let me guess-she humiliated you, didn''t she?" Sawyer''s face was grim. He said nothing.

    After a moment, Clifford spoke up suddenly. "Dad, why are you so obsessed with Jete? The only reason is because she''s your biological daughter."

    "Because Citrine isn''t, you never tried to bring her back the way you did with Jete, no matter how meless she was when she left the Iverson family. You never called for her, never begged her toe home. Just because she''s not really yours."

    "Enough!" Sawyer''s tone was sharp, his expression shifting.

    He''d never realized it before Clifford put it into words.

    Clifford pressed on. "Dad, just admit it. You''ve always favored Jete."

    He continued, voice steady, "But let me tell you how wrong you are. Think about it.

    All these years¡ªwho took care of you when you were sick? Who always had your back, worried about you, stood by you when everyone else doubted you?"

    "Think, Dad. Was it Citrine or Jete?"

    In that instant, Sawyer''s mind filled with memories of Citrine. Jete''s name couldn''t even find a ce.

    Of course. The only person who ever truly cared about him as a father was Citrine.

    He remembered: When Citrine was three, she''d spread her arms to shield him from his own father''s anger.

    At four, when he came home exhausted from work, she''d smash open her piggy bank and offer everyst coin. "Daddy, stop working so hard. I''ll take care of you. I don''t want you to be tired."

    At five, she''d boast in front of everyone that he was the best dad in the world.

    At six, she''d wake up early to make sure he ate breakfast before work.

    At seven, when he was hospitalized with stomach trouble, she''d cry and refuse to

    go to school, insisting on staying by his side to take care of him.

    At eight, she''d sit quietly in the living room, always leaving a light on, waiting up for him until she fell asleep.

    At nine, she''d snatch the cigarettes from his hand and toss them out. "Smoking''s bad, Daddy. I want you to be healthy."

    At ten, when his stomach red up again, she''d make a pot of warm soup for him herself.

    At eleven...

    Ah yes, when she was eleven, he sent her overseas.

    All those memories, clear as day, yed in his mind now, and Sawyer''s heart ached as if it were being squeezed.

 Chapter 317

    After that one-on-one showdown with the drill instructor during freshman orientation, Citrine''s name was on everyone''s lips at Crestwood University.

    When the fall break ended, curious students from all over campus started drifting past the medical school, hoping to catch a glimpse of the so-called legend in the flesh.

    Most people, aside from those who actually knew her, imagined Citrine as some burly, intimidating tomboy. But the moment they saw her, they werepletely thrown off guard.

    Far from being a tough, muscle-bound brute, she was breathtaking¡ªstunningly beautiful, with an elegance that seemed almost otherworldly.

    Within a week, Citrine''s backpack was overflowing with love letters, and her poprity had even surpassed that of Crestwood''s celebrated "queen bee," Kali. Friday night rolled around.

    The university was holding its annual Freshman Wee, a campus-wide event out on the athletic field, open to anyone who wanted to join.

    To make everyone feel at home, the school had put together a spread of cake and snacks and lined up a series of fun performances.

    Citrine and her roommates weren''t exactly fans ofrge gatherings, but they definitely loved free food. They slipped into an inconspicuous corner, loaded up on treats, and dug in with gusto.

    They tuned out the buzz of voices and gossip swirling around them.

    The emcee for the night was none other than Kali, anguage and literature major.

    From the moment Citrine arrived, Kali''s eyes had been on her.

    She shot her a subtle re-look at her, eating like there''s no tomorrow, worse than a pig, what a waste.

    Kali fumed inwardly. She had no idea how this so-called nobody had managed to catch the eye of the upperssman everyone worshipped. He was always so cold and distant, yet somehow, he''d warmed up to Citrine. What did she have that Kali didn''t?

    It''s just that face, Kali thought bitterly. She looks all innocent, but who knows what she''s really like underneath.

    The main event at Crestwood''s Wee Night was always the "talent solo battle." If you had a skill and enough nerve, you could get up on stage and challenge the best.

    At the end of the night, whoever racked up the most votes would be crowned Solo King or Queen-winning a cash prize and a direct spot in the student council''s inner circle.

    Tempting? Absolutely.

    Halfway through the evening, two students were locked in a fierce onstage duel¡ª music, dance, the works. The crowd cheered as one emerged victorious, and the loser stepped down, leaving the stage empty for a moment.

    That''s when Kali stepped up.

    Everyone knew Kali had beenst year''s Solo Queen.

    The second she appeared, a wave of awe swept through the crowd.

    The remaining contestant managed a polite nod and a wry smile. "Kali, you''re here. Do the rest of us even stand a chance?"

    She took her ce, mentally steeling herself.

    Kali shed a sly smile. "Don''t give up so soon. Who knows, maybe you''ll surprise us."

    Her tone was breezy, but there was no mistaking her confidence. She clearly didn''t see her opponent as a threat.

    Down below, the guys in the crowd went wild.

    "Kali''s finally up! This is what we''ve been waiting for!"

    "Seriously, I only came for her. None of the others evenpare."

    Kali couldn''t help but smile as she soaked up the admiration. She''d been groomed for this her whole life by the Glenwood family-dancing, singing, always in the spotlight.

    That was part of why everyone called her Crestwood''s Golden Girl.

    The moment she took the stage, freshmen and upperssmen alike were spellbound.

    Sheunched into a jazz routine-every move was maic, sultry, impossible to look away from.

    "She''s incredible. Every beat goes straight to my heart."

    "She''s too gorgeous-how am I supposed to watch this?"

    "That''s my girl. I just know she''s going to be in my dreams again tonight."

 Chapter 318

    Since Kali, no one else had managed to steal the spotlight quite like she did. Seeing this, the other girl stepped off the stage without protest.

    Now Kali stood alone under the lights, and with the party drawing to a close, everyone in the room was convinced she''d clinched the title of Solo Queen tonight -no contest.

    But then, Kali''s gaze drifted to a quiet corner, where Citrine was still happily

    eating.

    From across the room, Kali called out, "Citrine-I''m challenging you."

    She smirked. "I heard you gave your drill instructor a hard time during orientation, even went so far as to hit him. Makes me wonder if you''re just as tough in every other way."

    Citrine, caught mid-bite, paused and frowned slightly at the sudden attention.

    Ingrid, shocked, set down her snack and leaned over, whispering, "What is Kali''s problem? You don''t even know her¡ªwhy is she picking a fight with you?"

    Citrine shrugged and replied with a grin, ¡°Maybe she''s just not right in the head." Lisa, looking worried, chimed in, "Her jazz routine looked really hard, all those sharp moves. Citrine, do you even know how to dance?"

    Citrine gave her a reassuring nce. "I know a little. Don''t worry."

    She stood up, coolly stripping off her jacket. Underneath, she wore a ck crop top and fitted jeans, the outfit highlighting her slim waist and long, lean legs-legs so straight and toned, not an ounce of extra flesh.

    Kali was dressed in a simr style, all tight lines and attitude, but theparison wasn''t ttering. Where Citrine''s proportions were striking-long legs, short torso -Kali''s looked even, making her seem shorter, and the tight pants only made her slightly bowed calves more obvious.

    The two girls faced each other under the spotlight. Down below, the students murmured, their words dripping with doubt and scorn for Citrine, but their eyes told a different story. They couldn''t help staring at her-she was just that much more beautiful than Kali, her figure leaving Kali far behind.

    Before, with distance between them, the contrast wasn''t so clear. But now, side by side, one looked every inch the privileged, radiant heiress, the other... well, next to Citrine''s porcin skin and poised elegance, Kali seemed almost like a servant girl.

    Kali, burning with jealousy but determined to keep herposure, asked through gritted teeth, "What song do you want to dance to?"

    Citrine''s lips curled into a faint smile. "Why, whatever you pick, I''ll pick too. Otherwise, how else can I outshine you?"

 Chapter 319

    Kali couldn''t help but scoff at Citrine''s words. "Crush me? Wow, you sure talk big."

    Citrine didn''t bother to respond, waving her hand impatiently. "Less talking, more dancing. You''re up first."

    At that, Kali''s expression shifted, her face suddenly serious.

    Today, she was going to show Citrine what real domination looked like.

    She picked a notoriously challenging routine.

    The moment the music started, Kali stepped into the spotlight.

    When it came to dance, Kali believed she was born for it. From the very first beat, her every move was seamless, her body gliding across the floor with an effortless sensuality that sent shivers through the crowd.

    When the song ended, the entire room erupted in apuse.

    "Kali, you''re amazing! I''m rooting for you!"

    "She''s got me hooked-are you trying to reel me in like a fish, goddess?"

    "I''d marry you twice in three years if I could!"

    "I already know what we''d name our kids!"

    As the cheers died down, Kali lifted her chin, confidence radiating from her, and shot Citrine a disdainful look. "Your turn."

    Citrine''s expression was calm, almost indifferent. "You''d better pay attention."

    The next track began. Citrine swept her chestnut hair behind her shoulders, the strands catching the light as she moved.

    She was dancing to the exact same music, performing the same choreography as Kali.

    The steps and poses were identical, but her presence was a world apart. Where Kali exuded flirtatious charm, Citrine''s style was bold and cool. Her eyes were unwavering-intense, a touch distant, with a proud self-possession. Every nce was electric, yet she never lingered; it was just enough to leave the crowd wanting more, but no one dared get too close.

    When the final note faded, apuse thundered through the auditorium.

    "Wow, did anyone else think Citrine was seriously badass?"

    "Totally! Every look she gave just hit different. There was a real edge to it-so much personality, but still dignified. She''s got this untouchable aura."

    "She''s like some regal goddess-out of reach, untouchable."

    "Her eyes were unreal. There''s a fire in them, like someone with an unbreakable spirit."

    "I used to think Kali was good, but after seeing the two side by side, Kali''s performance just feels kind of cheap inparison, like she was just trying too hard to be sexy."

    "To be honest, it was just for show."

    "Next to Citrine, Kali suddenly seems so... tawdry. I think I''m crushing on Citrine now."

    If Citrine hadn''t performed, Kali''s dance would have been a showstopper. But with Citrine''s contrast, Kali''s routine suddenly looked shallow.

    Hearing the whispers around her, Kali''s face turned a furious shade of red.

    She thought it was over, but out of nowhere, Citrine turned to her and asked,

    "Kali, do you know the story behind the lyrics of this song?"

    Kali hesitated, caught off guard.

    The story? Wasn''t it just a random track? What story?

    "Don''t know, do you?" Citrine pressed, her gaze fixed on Kali.

    Surrounded by students, Kali shot a quick, embarrassed nce around, then nodded, swallowing her pride.

    Citrine broke into a mocking smile. "So this is the level of culture from Crestwood University''s star student? Color me disappointed."

    She continued, her tone casual but cutting. "This song is actually about a love story from the World War II era. The heroine, Jenny, and the hero, Parker, met at a military academy. Both became officers, drawn together by their shared sense of duty. Their bond deepened as they served their country, leading them to marriage. But that time was full of turmoil and war; long separations were inevitable. Each answered the call of duty, taking on separate missions. Yearster, they were both killed in action. The lyrics are inspired by those first days of their bittersweet love story."

 Chapter 320

    As soon as Citrine finished speaking, a ripple of whispers swept through the crowd. Suddenly, the way everyone looked at Kali changedpletely.

    "Kali just turned a love bad about two heroes into some kind of wild party dance. Honestly, that''s disgusting."

    "Seriously, what is going on in her head? Even a story about heroes isn''t sacred to her."

    "And she calls herself Crestwood University''s star student? More like Crestwood''s embarrassment."

    "She didn''t even bother to check what the song meant before dancing. Way to make a fool of herself."

    "I''m so done with her. From now on, Citrine''s my idol. Kali''s canceled."

    "Yeah, Citrine is way more talented."

    "If anyone deserves the title of Crestwood''s top student, it''s Citrine. She actually lives up to it."

    ...

    Kali couldn''t understand why, in just a matter of moments, the admiration in everyone''s eyes had turned to scorn and contempt. She felt a lump rise in her throat. "I didn''t know-I really didn''t know," she protested, her voice trembling.

    Her face drained of color. "If I''d known what the lyrics meant, I never would have danced like that."

    Citrine arched an eyebrow at her, lips curling in a half-smile. She was about to leave this petty scene when suddenly, a man in a sharp suit stepped forward.

    "Apologize." His voice was cold, his eyes fixed hard on Citrine.

    The unexpectedmand made Citrine pause. She looked up and met a pair of deep, dark eyes¡ªthe very eyes of the man she''d once wished she''d never see again.

    Her whole body tensed, but she forced herself not to flinch. Jaw tight, she met his gaze with a steely re. "Why should I apologize?" she shot back.

    Theo had no idea why seeing this girl always made his chest tighten, why he felt so quick to relent around her. He did his best to tamp down the strange urge to show her mercy.

    "You bullied my sister," he said, ncing from Citrine to Kali, his expression growing colder by the second. After all, this girl was basically a stranger-she didn''t deserve to even bepared to Kali.

    His tone was icy. "My sister''s not in good health. You upset her like this-if something happens to her, can you take responsibility?"

    Citrine rolled her eyes. "Her health is none of my business. Why am I suddenly responsible for her? Is she made of ss? If she can''t handle a few facts, maybe she should just stay home and rest in bed, instead ofing to school."

    She took a dramatic step back, putting a wide distance between herself and Theo and Kali. "You''d better keep your fragile little porcin doll away from me. I''d hate to break something so delicate."

    Seeing her reaction, the other students followed suit, shuffling backwards to widen the gap.

    ¡°Kali, if you''re so sick, you should''ve warned us. I''d better steer clear-don''t want you using me of anything if you get hurt."

    "Kali''s brother, maybe you should just take her home. School''s a rough ce for someone so breakable. We''re just regr people; it''s not fair to expect us to take the fall if she trips over her own feet.¡±

    ¡°Besides, Citrine was just stating the facts. No need to overreact."

    "Exactly. Citrine didn''t do anything wrong."

    "Kali''s brother, maybe you should get the whole story from your sister before you start pointing fingers. Citrine''s being med for nothing."

    One student, less patient than the rest, scoffed. "Maybe your sister should''ve actually understood the song before she danced. Not Citrine''s fault she didn''t do her homework."

    "All Citrine did was educate her. She wasn''t trying to hurt anyone."

    "Honestly, Kali should be thanking Citrine."

 Chapter 321

    "This year''s solo champion is Citrine. No one deserves it more."

    "Her dancing was just breathtaking-honestly, her technique is even better than Kali''s."

    "Seriously, I wish I were Citrine. She doesn''t even have to go through the selection rounds-she just gets straight into the student council."

    Someone up ahead, eyes shining with envy, turned to Citrine. "Citrine, you''re a freshman and you already qualify for the student council. That''s huge! You must be thrilled, right?"

    "I''m not interested in the student council, and I won''t be joining," Citrine replied, shaking her head without hesitation.

    The girl''s mouth dropped open in shock. She leaned in, as if to remind Citrine, "You know, Crestwood''s student council has the toughest selection process on campus. If you don''t take the offer now, it''ll be almost impossible to get inter."

    Nearby, Ingrid and her friends stared at Citrine, practically dying to ept on her behalf. But all they could do was fidget anxiously while Citrine simply offered a polite smile and declined once more. "I doubt I''ll ever want to join the student council."

    Everyone at Crestwood knew the student council was packed with talented students-most from privileged backgrounds, connected families, and possessed with every advantage you could imagine.

    Getting in meant everything:working across social circles, picking up new skills, maybe even crossing ss barriers if you got lucky.

    So Citrine''s rejection caught everyonepletely off guard. More than a few people felt sorry for her missed opportunity, but it was her decision-nobody had any right to interfere.

    Kali, meanwhile, stared at Citrine in disbelief. It had taken Kali every ounce of effort to w her way into the student council. And yet this bitch just tossed the offer aside like it was nothing. Didn''t even know to value what was right in front of her. What an idiot.

    Theo watched Citrine as well, eyebrows drawn together in a faint frown.

    But none of them realized: Citrine didn''t need their connections or resources. She was the connection. She already had everything she needed.

    After the wee g ended, Kali stormed off, her mood dark as a thundercloud.

    Theo started to go after his sister tofort her, but a nce at Citrine kept him rooted in ce.

    People were filing out of the hall, most in pairs or small groups.

    Theo made his way over, grabbed Citrine''s wrist, and pulled her into a quiet, empty alcove.

    "Why did you go after Kali like that?" His eyes shed with anger. "You knew exactly what you were doing, making her look bad in front of everyone. You''d already won-you could''ve just let it go."

    It was obvious to Theo: Citrine had deliberately told that story, steering the conversation so the others would turn on Kali with their words.

    He couldn''t deny he felt something inexplicable for Citrine. But that didn''t mean he''d let her hurt his little sister. Kali was family. He knew where his loyaltiesy.

    Citrine let out a short, incredulousugh. "And why shouldn''t I call her out? She tried to embarrass me, but I can''t do the same to her? How does that make any sense?"

    "Besides, she only got burned because she didn''t know what she was talking about."

    Theo was just as biased as ever-always making excuses for Kali, never caring about right or wrong.

    Citrine red at him, her contempt in. "And you say I targeted her? Are you blind? Didn''t you see she started it? Or did you see and just pretend you didn''t?"

    "Always so quick with aeback," Theo muttered, her words leaving him speechless and his expression darkening.

    It took him a moment topose himself. When he finally spoke, his tone was thick with disappointment. "Why didn''t you join the student council just now? The chance was right in front of you.¡±

    "What business is it of yours?" Citrine shot back, irritation clear in her voice.

    She had no idea why Theo even cared, and as far as she was concerned, they were nowhere near close enough for this kind of conversation.

 Chapter 322

    Theo could sense Citrine''s dislike for him, and it threw him off for a moment. "Do you really hate me that much?" he asked, his voice uncertain.

    From the very first time they met, he''d felt her animosity-an almost palpable disgust that seemed to radiate from her.

    Citrine nodded, not bothering to hide her disdain. "At least you''re self-aware. Since you know I can''t stand you, why don''t you stop parading yourself in front of me?" She didn''t even try to mask her revulsion; it was written all over her face.

    Her expression was like a p, and it stung more than Theo cared to admit. He swallowed his difort, forcing himself to ask, "Have we met before? Did something happen between us?"

    He studied her closely, genuinely invested in her answer.

    In theirst life, they''d been together for a decade, and in all that time, Theo had never once cared about her feelings or bothered to understand her. Now, as he gazed at her with concern, it almost felt like a cruel joke. She''d never seen him look at her this way-not even at the end.

    Pathetic.

    Citrine looked at his serious face and suddenlyughed. "Oh, we''ve got history. The kind that''s written in blood."

    Theo thought she was joking and let out a chuckle. "You''re funny, you know that?"

    He grinned. "I think I''m starting to like you." For some reason, just looking at her made his heart race uncontrobly-a feeling he''d never experienced before.

    He''d always been indifferent to women,pletely uninterested. But with her, it was different. From the moment they met, she''d held his attention.

    Citrine only found his words ridiculous.

    She shook her head, fixing him with a look of utter contempt. "Shame for you, but I really can''t stand you."

    Theo had always been the golden boy-envied, admired, put on a pedestal wherever he went. No one had ever despised him like this.

    Of course, he''d never really faced rejection before, so he didn''t believe for a second that Citrine would be any different.

    In his world, no one hated for no reason; if they did, it was only because the price wasn''t high enough.

    Confident as ever, Theo looked her over and curled his lips into a smirk. "Citrine Carmichael-two billion. Be my lover."

    "Your lover?" Citrine practicallyughed in his face.

    "What, not good enough for you?" Theo assumed she wanted to be his official girlfriend, and the look in his eyes turned icy.

    He sneered. "The Carmichael family might rule Havencrest, but in all of Crestwood, you hardly make a mark. You really think you''re girlfriend material? Dream on."

    Citrine gave a cold, humorlessugh. She had no idea where his arrogance came from. "If I wanted to marry up, trust me, you''d be thest person I''d choose. You make my skin crawl."

    Theo''s lips curled into a slow, maic smile. "Three billion."

    Citrine just stared at him, speechless.

    When she still didn''t respond, Theo went on, "Four billion."

    "You''re something else, you know that? Your appetite''s insatiable." By the time he reached seven billion and Citrine still hadn''t budged, his face was growing darker by the second.

    He looked almost defeated, but he wasn''t ready to give up. "How about eight billion? Is that enough?"

    "Not even close," Citrine replied coolly.

    Whether in their past life or this one, Theo had always treated her like amodity. That was one thing that never seemed to change.

    "Name your price, then. Anything you want." His patience was thinning, voice growing sharp.

    "Anything?" Citrine arched an eyebrow, a sardonic smile twisting her lips.

    Theo nodded. "Of course."

    She fixed him with a mocking nce. "Alright, then-I want your family business. Will you hand it over?"

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    As soon as Citrine finished speaking, Theo instantly realized he''d been yed.

    A flicker of anger shed in his eyes, his stare turning icy as he fixed it on Citrine. His voice had the chill of winter.

    "You''re toying with me?"

    He was a twenty-four-year-old man, and yet he''d just been outsmarted by an eighteen-year-old girl.

    Citrine looked perfectly innocent, giving a little shrug. "You asked, and I just answered honestly. Besides, with Glenwood Group being so vast, isn''t it only natural I''d want a piece of it?"

    Theo''s expression darkened. "You dare to covet the Glenwood family? Are you tired of living?"

    Citrine met his gaze, her tone breezy. "What''s wrong with dreaming? You never know-it might juste true."

    He narrowed his eyes at her, voice low. "Citrine Carmichael, there are plenty of ways I could get what I want from you."

    It was the first time he''d ever actually wanted a woman, and he was determined to have her no matter what it took.

    Citrine knew exactly what kind of man Theo was.

    If he set his sights on someone, he would stop at nothing-ruthless, relentless, always getting his way.

    In their past lives, Theo had always believed it was his scheming that had won her over. The truth was, Citrine had willingly walked into his trap.

    But this time around, she wasn''t interested-and this time, no one could force her hand.

    She gave him a sly smile. "Go ahead and try."

    With that, she turned on her heel and walked away without looking back.

    These days, CICI Group and CICI Media Co. had fully established their headquarters in Crestwood.

    Carlotta was Citrine''s hand-picked assistant-the one she''d personally trained. To make things easier, Citrine had recently brought her over to the main office as well.

    That morning, with no lectures scheduled, Citrine headed straight to CICI Group.

    Freshman year wasn''t exactly demanding, so she had plenty of free time. Whenever she got the chance, she''d make her way over to thepany.

    Lately, she''d basically taken up residence in thepany''sb, tinkering away at something on her own.

    Back when she was in Havencrest, every time Citrine showed up at thepany she was usually found gaming. But ever since moving to headquarters, her gaming days were over-now she spent every day in theb. Carlotta was still getting used to having such a hardworking chairwoman.

    On this particr day, Citrine had already been holed up in theb for seven or eight hours straight.

    Seeing that she hadn''te out, Carlotta finally knocked and walked in.

    She found Citrine fussing with bottles and vials. Carlotta stepped closer. "Boss, is there anything you need help with?"

    Citrine handed over a whole crate of her concoctions. "These-send them for testing."

    "What are these?" Carlotta stared at the box in surprise.

    Citrine peeled off her white gloves and smiled. "Cosmeceuticals."

    Carlotta gaped at her. "Wait-since when are we getting into the beauty industry?" Citrine nodded. "Starting now."

    "But Boss, there''s not a singlepany in Crestwood doing cosmeceuticals. From what I found, the Glenwood family tried it a few years back, and their brand went under in just a few months. I''m a little worried..."

    "Don''t be," Citrine said, shing a confident smile. "We''ll make it work."

    She looked Carlotta in the eye, her tone serious. "Take these for testing right now. They''re crucial. If we want to get a foothold in Crestwood, this is how we''ll do it."

    Carlotta knew just how capable her boss was. Seeing how serious Citrine was, she realized thepany was about to make a big move.

    She straightened up immediately. "Understood. I''ll take care of it."

    A few dayster, the test results came back.

    Carlotta carried the whole batch to Citrine''s office.

    "Well?" Citrine nced at her coolly.

    Carlotta was so excited she nearly jumped. "They passed with flying colors!"

    Within days, Citrine''s entire line of cosmeceuticals hit the shelves in Crestwood.

    But a monthter, they were still gathering dust-no one was buying.

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    Carlotta paced anxiously, her voice tight with worry. "Boss, what should we do?

    Not a single store wants to stock our skincare line. Now the whole shipment is just piling up at the factory."

    "Don''t worry. This is perfectly normal," Citrine replied, calm and unbothered, as if she''d seen thising all along.

    "You expected this?" Carlotta rxed a little, reassured by her boss''sposure. After years working with Citrine, she knew her CEO''s temperament well; if Citrine wasn''t stressed, things probably weren''t as dire as they seemed.

    Citrine looked over at her and gave a clear instruction. "Send out a set of our skincare products to every artist at CICI Media Co. who''s struggled with skin issues. Have them post daily updates about their experience online-let them be the face of our brand."

    Carlotta''s eyes lit up. "That''s a great idea! I can''t believe I forgot we have our own ambassadors."

    Meanwhile, Citrine picked up her phone and dialed Amelia.

    Hundreds of miles away in Havencrest, Amelia lit up with delight when she saw her best friend''s name on the screen. "Citrine!"

    "Hey, Amy, have you tried the skincare products I sent you?"

    Just the mention of the products made Amelia''s excitement bubble over. "Citrine, you''re a miracle worker! My skin haspletely cleared up-no more breakouts, nothing. Your products are incredible! Myplexion''s never looked this good."

    "That''s wonderful to hear." Citrine smiled, her heart warm with pride at having her product so thoroughly validated.

    Suddenly, Amelia remembered something, her eyes brightening. "Oh! Some of my ssmates saw my results and now they all want to try it, too. They''re willing to pay for it."

    Citrine chuckled. "Let me know how many are interested, and I''ll send over another batch."

    Then, her tone turned more serious. "Actually, Amy, I was calling to ask if you''d be the official spokesperson for CICI Group''s entire skincare range."

    Amelia didn''t hesitate for a second. "Of course! I''d love to."

    Citrine hadn''t expected her to agree so quickly; a wave of emotion washed over her. She softened her voice. "The product hasn''t hit the mainstream yet. Being the face of a new linees with some risk, you know. I want you to think about it first."

    Amelia''s lips curled into a slight pout. "There''s nothing to think about! You''re my best friend-if you''re asking, I know you''d never put me in a bad position."

    Then a thought crossed her mind, and her brow furrowed in confusion. "But Citrine, what''s your connection to CICI Group, anyway? Technically, CICI Media Co. is part of CICI Group. Shouldn''t they be the ones approaching me, not you?"

    Though she worked for CICI Media Co., Amelia realized she knew next to nothing about the parentpany.

    Silly girl, Citrine thought fondly. I just want you to have a real choice. Citrine''s lips curled in a small, secretive smile. "You might not believe me if I told you. You''ll find out one day, Amy."

    Amelia let it go, satisfied.

    If CICI Media Co. had made the request as a corporate directive, Amelia would have epted without hesitation-she wouldn''t have had a choice. But Citrine, wanting to avoid pressuring her friend, had called in a personal capacity, leaving Amelia free to say yes or no.

    Citrine had a good feeling about the product''s prospects but knew there were no guarantees in business; if the skincare line flopped, she didn''t want Amelia''s hard- earned reputation in the industry to suffer.

    Ever since Innocent premiered, Amelia had be a sensation. Her online following soared past fifty million, giving her massive influence. The moment she announced her endorsement, fans rushed to buy the product, clearing out several warehouses'' worth of stock in just a few days.

    With the other CICI Media Co. artists also posting about the products, the remaining inventory disappeared in no time.

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    In less than two weeks, CICI Group''s new line of medicated skincare products exploded online, rocketing to the top of sales charts across every major tform.

    It wasn''t long before thest boxes in CICI Group''s warehouse were swept clean -sold out in a frenzy.

    Carlotta could hardly believe it. The medicated cosmetics had justunched, yet they were already a runaway sess. Bursting with excitement, she hurried to find Citrine, eager to discuss ramping up production. To her surprise, Citrine refused.

    Carlotta was baffled. "Our products are selling like crazy-why not increase our stock?"

    "We will. But not just yet." Citrine''s eyes stayed glued to herputer screen, fingers flying over the keyboard. Calm and methodical, she spoke to Carlotta without missing a beat, taking full advantage of this brief period beforepetitors could react.

    Theirpany president looked every bit the tech-obsessed young woman right then, typing with such intensity it was as if sparks might fly from the keys. Carlotta couldn''t help but twitch a smile at the sight. "So, when will the time be right?" she asked.

    Citrine nced up and grinned. "When the buzz online gets even louder."

    Half a monthter, Carlotta finally understood what Citrine meant.

    Meanwhile, CICI Group''s official social media was practically blowing up.

    Comments flooded in from every direction.

    "These medicated products are incredible! I used your shampoo, and my seborrheic dermatitis is totally gone."

    "I tried your e cream-it really works! Only someone who''s struggled with breakouts like me can understand what it feels like to finally be confident."

    "I''ve been using your moisturizer and toner, and now my skin is not only smooth, it''s several shades brighter."

    "I''m never using another brand again. You''ve got a customer for life.¡±

    "Oh my god, when will there be more? I''ve been waiting forever!"

    "I can''t stand the wait-why didn''t I stock up when I had the chance?"

    "@CICI Group, please let us know as soon as you restock!"

    "I''m begging you, restock soon-I want to buy so badly I''ll even pay extra!"

    Under every CICI Group post, it was the same: glowing reviews and desperate pleas for restocks.

    When the timing was just right, Citrine gave Carlotta the go-ahead to replenish inventory.

    The surge in demand was almost overwhelming-CICI Group''s products were flying off the shelves faster than they could be made.

    Carlotta was nearly at her wit''s end. That''s when Citrine introduced a purchase limit: each customer could buy no more than two sets.

    The blockbuster sess of their medicated skincare line cemented CICI Group''s status in Crestwood. In just a short time, thepany had leapt into the global top five of the Fortune 500.

    All across Crestwood, rival corporations scrambled to secure first rights to distribute the new product line.

    Every day, a steady stream of clients came to CICI Group, hoping to negotiate licensing deals. Citrine, however, turned every single one of them down.

    On Saturday, Raymond came to Crestwood to visit her. Over lunch, Citrine pulled out a contract for CICI Group''s product licensing and handed it to him.

    Raymond took the contract with a puzzled look, flipped through the pages, and then froze.

    "Citrine? Is this really the licensing agreement for CICI Group''s medicated cosmetics?"

    Everyone in Crestwood knew about CICI Group''s meteoric rise-Raymond included. Their medicated skincare was the talk of the town, a cash cow that every business wanted a share of.

    Citrine nodded calmly. "Yes. It''s for you."

    Raymond stared at his daughter, stunned. "Wait...where did you get this?"

    A suspicion crossed his mind, and he ventured carefully, "Did your friend Carlotta from CICI Group give this to you?"

    "Mhm." Citrine nodded solemnly. Carlotta had printed it out and handed it to her- so, technically, that was true.

    Raymond looked down at the contract, utterly speechless.

    CICI Group''s medicated skincare was selling like crazy; thepany''s influence was at its peak. Right now, every business in town was falling over themselves for a chance to coborate-even storming CICI Group''s doors if they had to.

 Chapter 326

    Everyone knew thatnding a license from CICI Group was a guaranteed win. There was no way to lose.

    Raymond had no idea why such a golden opportunity hadnded in hisp, but he figured it probably had something to do with Citrine.

    Since this was something Citrine wanted him to have, he really couldn''t refuse. "Thank you, Citrine¡ªand please thank your friend for me too."

    On Sunday, Citrine had nned to catch a movie with a few of her roommates when her phone suddenly buzzed. It was Carlotta.

    Carlotta''s voice was hoarse, edged with panic. "Citrine, my brother and I had an argument, and he ran off to Crestwood. He''s probably almost at the airport by now. Could you pick him up? I''m stuck at Havencrest and can''t leave."

    "He''s not in great shape, and I''m worried about him being on his own."

    Carlotta and her brother had always depended on each other. They were all the family either of them had. Right now, besides Citrine, Carlotta honestly had no one else to turn to.

    Citrine tried to reassure her. "Don''t worry, I''m on my way now."

    Carlotta''s voice trembled. "Thank you, Citrine. I really don''t know who else I could call."

    "You don''t need to thank me," Citrine replied after a pause.

    "Carlotta, you know we''re not just colleagues-we''re friends."

    On the other end of the line, Carlotta felt her chest tighten with relief. Tears welled up and finally spilled over.

    After hanging up, Citrine hurried home to the spacious condo Raymond had bought for her. She headed down to the garage, picked a car at random, and drove off.

    A little over ten minutester, she pulled up at the airport.

    She checked the photo Carlotta had sent, carefully scanning every boy emerging from the arrivals hall.

    Atst, she spotted him¡ªa tall, puppyish-looking kid, maybe six feet tall, with skin so pale it almost looked translucent. He had strikingly refined features, and there was a resemnce to Carlotta in his eyes and the curve of his brow.

    Citrine jogged over and called out, "Quincy Yarbrough!"

    Quincy turned toward the sound of her voice.

    He froze the moment he saw her. Citrine was so beautiful it was almost jarring- impossible not to be taken aback.

    For a moment, Quincy just stared, lost for words. Then he blinked, flustered, and managed, "Are you... calling me?"

    Citrine gave him azy smile. ¡°I''m a friend of your sister Carlotta. She asked me toe pick you up."

    At the mention of his sister, something shifted in Quincy''s eyes.

    But as far as he knew, his sister had never really had friends. Suddenly, a thought struck him. His eyes brightened. "Are you the boss my sister always talks about?"

    Carlotta never mentioned friends-only her boss, and often. Quincy had heard plenty about this boss of hers: young, brilliant, having founded CICI Group at just seventeen. Carlotta practically worshipped her, and even Quincy couldn''t help but feel a bit awed.

    Citrine nodded. "I''m your sister''s friend. But if you don''t mind, you can call me ''sister'' too."

    "Okay... Sister," Quincy said, his voice sweet and a little shy.

    At that moment, his stomach growled loudly. Quincy ducked his head, embarrassed.

    Citrineughed. "Haven''t eaten yet? Come on, let''s get you something to eat first."

    She took the suitcase from his hand and led the way.

 Chapter 327

    At sixteen, the boy was still all innocence¡ªa little like a loyal puppy trailing behind Citrine, uncertain but eager to please.

    After stowing her luggage, Citrine nced at the awkward teenager lingering by the curb and gently called, "Come on, hop in."

    Quincy snapped out of his daze and immediately pulled open the car door.

    Once his seatbelt was fastened, Citrine pulled away from the curb and headed into the city.

    She chose a well-known restaurant for dinner. Inside, Quincy sat stiffly at the edge of his chair, visibly ufortable.

    His world had always revolved around his sister. Because of his frail health, no other kids wanted to y with him while he was growing up. He''d never had any friends. Apart from his sister, Citrine was the only person he''d ever spent time with alone.

    It was his first time out with anyone besides his sister, and nerves were getting the better of him.

    Noticing his unease, Citrine smiled, trying to put him at ease. She slid the menu over to him. "Order whatever you like," she offered warmly.

    Quincy stared at the menu, eyes widening at the prices. After a moment''s hesitation, he pressed his lips together and picked out a few cheap dishes before passing the menu back.

    Citrine took one look at his choices and added a couple of the restaurant''s specialties before handing the menu to the waiter.

    For a while, neither of them spoke. Eventually, Quincy broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sis, after dinner, I''ll head back to Havencrest."

    He knew his little stunt had scared his sister and probably inconvenienced her friend as well.

    Citrine paused, surprised, then looked at Quincy with gentle seriousness. "You''re already here, so why not stay a few days in Crestwood? There''s no need to rush back."

    She smiled. "There''s so much good food and so many fun ces around here. Let me show you around, all right?"

    As she spoke, she began listing Crestwood''s best dishes and must-see sights.

    Quincy had been sickly since childhood and rarely had the chance to go out. His sister, worried for his health, had always sheltered him, treating him as if he might break at any moment. Because of this, he''d hardly seen anything of the world beyond his home.

    Hearing Citrine''s words, a flicker of longing appeared in his eyes.

    Before long, their food arrived. Alongside the simple vegetarian dishes Quincy had chosen, Citrine had ordered a few of the house specialties.

    When they finished eating, it was alreadyte. Citrine drove Quincy to her apartment in Verona Heights¡ªa spacious, modern ce.

    Quincy had expected Citrine to drop him off at a random hotel, so he was surprised when she brought him home instead.

    He realized then that his sister must be truly close with her boss.

    Over the next few days, Citrine kept her promise. She took Quincy out to try all sorts of delicious food, and together they visited the city''s famous sights. The two grewfortable with each other quickly, and Quincy found himself truly enjoying the experience.

    One evening, as they drove back, Citrine spoke up suddenly. "Why did you argue with your sister?"

    Quincy hesitated before answering. ¡°I..... I don''t want the surgery anymore."

    "Why not?" Citrine asked, her tone gentle.

    Quincy looked down. "My sister''s already spent everything she has on me. She''s always going back and forth to take care of me. I''m useless-a burden. If it weren''t for me, she''d have a much easier life."

    Citrine shook her head. "Your sister has never thought of you as a burden. Did you ever consider that you might be the reason she keeps going?"

    Her words hit Quincy hard.

    She smiled softly. "As long as you''re alive, your sister has hope. Quincy,

    everything she does is because she wants you to live."

    Quincy stared at Citrine, her words breaking through his fog of guilt. "Thank you,"

    he said quietly. "I understand now. I won''t let her down again."

    Just then, Carlotta arrived after finishing her work.

    "Sis..." Quincy mumbled, eyes downcast, guilt written all over his face as he greeted his sister.

 Chapter 328

    Carlotta said nothing, just ruffled Quincy''s hair with a gentle affection before walking over to Citrine.

    She looked at Citrine, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Citrine, I''ve been such a bother these past few days. Thank you."

    "It''s no trouble. Your little brother has been a delight," Citrine replied with a warm smile.

    Hearing this, Quincy''s ears flushed a soft pink.

    Carlotta chatted with Citrine for a few more moments. As she was about to leave, Citrine called out to her.

    "Wait, take this with you."

    Citrine handed her a crisp letter.

    "What''s this?" Carlotta asked, puzzled.

    "It''s a letter of introduction for Crestwood Medical Research Center," Citrine replied calmly. ¡°Bring Quincy and show them this when you check in. That way, you won''t have to go back and forth anymore."

    The Crestwood Medical Research Center was renowned for gathering the world''s top medical experts-any one of them could be considered a legend in their field. It rivaled the prestigious Viridis Medical Institute back in Havencrest, but Crestwood''s center was shrouded in mystery; without a letter of introduction, no one could get through the doors.

    Carlotta stared at the letter, stunned. "How did you get a letter for Crestwood Medical Research Center?"

    Citrine just smiled, her answer elusive. "You''ll understand one day. For now, just take Quincy and get him checked in."

    Carlotta had long since grown used to Citrine''s resourcefulness and influence. She trusted herpletely.

    Once again, Citrine hade through for her-Carlotta had lost count of how many times that had happened.

    "Citrine, thank you. Truly. For everything you''ve done for me." Carlotta epted the letter, her eyes growing misty as she looked down at the page.

    Citrine shook her head, half exasperated, half fond. "Why are you thanking me again? Haven''t I told you-we''re not just colleagues, we''re friends."

    Inside Crestwood Arts Academy.

    Jete, makeup perfectly done, strutted into a bar with a crowd of girlfriends.

    Though Dick''spany had gone under, he''d managed to start a new one here in Crestwood, so the whole family had moved. Jete, once a socialite in Havencrest, now held the title of Crestwood''s darling heiress-and she was thoroughly enjoying it.

    Thanks to her new status, she''d barely started college before both guys and girls were lining up to win her favor.

    Tonight, she and her friends were in high spirits at the bar when, suddenly, someone grabbed her wrist.

    "That''s enough," a man said, snatching the cocktail from her hand and mming it down on the table.

    Jete was about to snap at him, but when she spun around, she froze-the face was all too familiar.

    Norton Iverson. What was he doing here?

    Jete''s eyes flickered over him, taking in the bartender''s uniform and the white gloves he was working here? Since when had he fallen this far?

    Her expression soured. She yanked her hand away, feigning ignorance. "Who are you? Get away from me."

    Her circle of friends was watching. If they found out she had any connection to Norton, who knew what they''d think? By morning, rumors would be flying through campus that she was the bartender''s sister.

    No, absolutely not. She couldn''t let that happen.

    Norton hadn''t expected his sister to pretend she didn''t know him. The smile faded from his face. "Jete, it''s me-your brother. Why are you acting like you''ve never seen me before?"

    She recoiled in disgust, as if he were something filthy. "I''m Crestwood''s leadingdy. Why would I know some bartender?"

    Norton was stunned. "Jete, what happened to you?" he whispered, at a loss. He remembered well how kind-hearted she used to be; he just couldn''t understand how she had changed so much.

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    A few of Jete''s wealthy friends immediately closed in around her.

    They looked Norton up and down with open disdain, sneering, "Jete, do you actually know this waiter?"

    Jete shook her head hastily, as if the very thought disgusted her. "Of course not. Why would I ever associate with a bar waiter?" She was quick to deny it, desperate to distance herself from Norton.

    As soon as she finished speaking, one of the guys stepped forward and shoved Norton hard, then pped him roughly across the face. "Get lost! Who do you think you are, trying to bother our girl? Be careful, or you''ll get what''sing to you."

    Norton clenched his fists, staring at Jete as humiliation burned in his chest. He lowered his head, swallowing his pride, and said nothing.

    Once the golden boy of the family, now he was nothing but a shadow of his former self-even his beloved little sister looked down on him.

    Since arriving in Crestwood, Norton''s arrogance had been worn away bit by bit. He''d been to interview after interview at all the leadingpanies, only to be rejected every time-for no other reason than hisck of family connections or impressive background.

    Job hunting had be a series of disappointments. With his bank ount shrinking rmingly fast, he''d had no choice but to take a job at the bar-the only ce that paid well enough to keep him afloat.

    He needed money. Desperately.

    The next day, an email from CICI Group''s HR departmentnded in his inbox, inviting him to interview. Norton''s spirits lifted for the first time in weeks.

    CICI Group was a powerhouse, thepany he wanted most. Even though they''d once steamrolled the Iverson family, Norton held no grudges-business was business, after all.

    It had been a week since he''d submitted his r¨¦sum¨¦. He''d assumed his chance had passed, only to be surprised by the interview invitation.

    That afternoon, Norton put on his best suit and headed to CICI Group''s headquarters.

    Meanwhile, in one of the conference rooms, Citrine sat waiting for the next candidate.

    The HR manager respectfullyid out the stack of r¨¦sum¨¦s for her review.

    Today''s position was for General Manager-important enough for Citrine herself to handle the interviews.

    She''d already seen more than a dozen candidates, but none had measured up.

    Just as she was stifling a yawn, Norton walked in, r¨¦sum¨¦ in hand, and took a seat.

    The moment he looked up, he saw Citrine sitting across from himposed, elegant, and every bit the picture of sophistication.

    It had been months since the siblingsst saw each other.

    Citrine looked radiant, from her polished hair to her designer heels-clearly, Raymond was treating her well.

    But what was she doing here?

    Norton faltered for a split second, but he managed to keep his cool. This was neither the ce nor the time for a reunion; he wasn''t about to greet her in front of everyone.

    He nced at the others in the room, then spoke politely, "Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Norton. I''m here to interview for the General Manager position. If I may, I''d like to start by introducing myself¡ª"

    Before he could finish, Citrine''s cool,manding voice cut through the room. "Who approved his r¨¦sum¨¦?"

    Her tone was quiet but brooked no argument.

    The HR manager nched, scanning the r¨¦sum¨¦ in her hands. When she saw the name on the page, a cold sweat broke out across her back.

    She swallowed nervously and answered in a small voice, "I''m sorry, President Carmichael. It was my oversight I forgot to remind my team."

    Citrine had made it clear long ago: anyone connected to the Iverson family was off limits. The HR manager had simply forgotten.

    Citrine gave her a brief, indifferent nce, not pressing the matter further. "Your bonus for this quarter is docked."

    The HR manager let out a silent sigh of relief. At least she wasn''t being fired.

 Chapter 330

    Norton stared in disbelief at the scene unfolding before him. It took him a long moment to find his voice: "President Carmichael?"

    A senior executive nearby heard his question and exined, "This is our chairwoman, President Carmichael of CICI Group."

    "You''re the chairwoman of CICI Group?" Norton looked at Citrine, stunned, unable to ept what he was hearing. "No way. That''s impossible."

    Citrine smiled at him, but didn''t bother to exin. She simply said, "You should go. You didn''t pass the interview."

    Norton''s face darkened immediately. "I haven''t even introduced myself. Why am I being rejected before I''ve even begun?"

    He nced around at the others in the conference room, searching for support.

    But the others just shook their heads.

    Someone spoke up, not unkindly: "Mr. Iverson, please leave. Our chairwoman made it clear-CICI Group does not hire anyone with ties to the Iverson family."

    Norton''s heart pounded in his chest, refusing to calm. He looked at the group earnestly. "Is she really the chairwoman of CICI Group?"

    The HR manager answered, "Of course, Mr. Iverson. There''s no reason for us to lie to you-especially since there''s nothing to be gained from it."

    Finally, the truth sank in.

    Norton knew exactly how powerful CICI Group was. He had never imagined it was founded by an eighteen-year-old girl-much less that she was his own sister.

    As memories of what had happened to the Iverson family shed through his mind, Norton''s expression grew uglier by the second.

    He fixed his eyes on Citrine, voice trembling. "Was it you? Was it your n to bankrupt the Iverson family?"

    Norton''s gaze darkened. If the chairwoman of CICI Group had been anyone but Citrine, he might have chalked it up to ruthless businesspetition.

    Citrine idly spun a pen between her fingers. Hearing Norton''s question, she turned to the others and said, "You all can leave."

    Now the conference room was empty except for Citrine and Norton.

    Citrine relished the pain flickering across Norton''s face; it gave her a satisfaction she hadn''t felt in a long time.

    She looked at him, her eyes curving in a smile as she answered without hesitation, "Yes, it was me. The Iverson family''s bankruptcy was entirely my doing."

    "Why?" Norton''sposure began to crack. He couldn''t understand why Citrine would do this.

    Citrine suddenlyughed, but her eyes were icy. "Why? Because I hate you all. I despise every single one of you."

    For some reason, her words made Norton feel like his heart was being crushed in a vise. Still, he refused to believe she was justified.

    He hesitated, then said, "We were wrong to use you of pushing Jete back then. But you can''t just hold on to that forever. After all, we''re family."

    At the mention of that word, Citrine''s expression turned instantly cold. "Family? Don''t make me sick."

    "You think it was just that one thing? The ways you hurt me go far beyond that."

    "I loved Sawyer more than anyone, but he only ever had eyes for Jete."

    "I was the only one who truly cared about Clifford, but he made my life hell at school-all for Jete''s sake."

    "And you¡ªyou were my brother, I was the one who brought you home. But from the moment Jete arrived, you stopped being my brother and became hers."

    "You all drove me mad. You destroyed me." Citrine''s eyes were rimmed with red, emotions threatening to spill over.

    Norton was stunned by herst words, but didn''t dwell on them.

    It was a long time before he finally said, "Citrine, you really are heartless."

    Citrine just smiled, unfazed. "That''s right. If I wasn''t, how else could I have crushed you all under my heel?"

    She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs nonchntly. Her voice was light, almost teasing: "Get out. If you think you''ll ever work at CICI Group, keep dreaming."

 Chapter 331

    As dusk settled in, Norton slipped out of CICI Group''s headquarters, looking thoroughly defeated. Without hesitation, he booked the next flight back to Havencrest and was on a ne that very night.

    When Sawyer opened the doorter that evening and saw Norton standing there, he almost jumped. "What are you doing back here?"

    Clifford was home as well. Noticing Norton''s grim expression, he hurried over, concern written all over his face. "What happened, man? You look terrible."

    Norton sank into the couch, hollow-eyed and silent for a long moment before finally speaking. "The person pulling the strings behind CICI Group-it''s Citrine."

    Sawyer blinked, dumbfounded. "What? Have you been drinking?"

    Clifford stared at him in disbelief. "You have to be kidding. Right?"

    "Citrine just turned eighteen. How could she possibly pull that off? Don''t listen to nonsense," Sawyer said, shaking his head. The very idea was absurd.

    Clifford agreed, nodding. "Exactly. When CICI Group was founded, Citrine was still in school. Where would she even find the time?"

    Norton could hardly me them. When he first learned the truth, he didn''t want to believe it either.

    He looked at them both, his face deadly serious. "I''m not joking. I interviewed at CICI Group today for the general manager position. I saw it with my own eyes- Citrine is the one behind everything. I confirmed it myself."

    Norton was never one to make light of serious matters. Seeing how grave he was, Sawyer and Clifford started to believe him.

    Sawyer''s eyes darkened slightly. "If it''s really Citrine, why would she go after our family?"

    Clifford added, "Yeah, that doesn''t make sense. Citrine would never do that." Norton lowered his gaze, letting out a heavy sigh. "I asked her. She admitted it herself."

    Sawyer''s chest tightened at Norton''s words. He looked lost. "But why?"

    Norton shook his head, still baffled. "I don''t know what her reason is. But she seems to hate us-a lot."

    It couldn''t just be because they''d once wronged her; that alone wouldn''t be enough to drive her to push the Iverson family to the brink of ruin.

    But what else could exin it?

    Only Clifford refused to ept it. "No way. I don''t believe it. Citrine''s always treated us with nothing but kindness. Even if she really is the mastermind behind CICI Group, there''s no way she''d do something like that to us. I know her heart¡ª she''s not capable of it."

    The three Iversons each sat lost in their own thoughts.

    Who could have imagined that the mysterious owner of CICI Group was Citrine all along? Suddenly, something else dawned on Sawyer and Norton.

    They remembered the day Citrine and Carlotta both attended theunch of the Kane robot. They''d noticed then that the two didn''t seem like friends, and now, looking back, it all made sense.

    They weren''t equals. Citrine was the boss, and Carlotta was working for her.

    After airing out this bombshell, Norton told them about running into Jete at the Crestwood Bar.

    Sawyer''s face darkened. "That spiteful woman Aline-does she want to ruin her own daughter? If you hadn''t told me, I''d never have guessed Jete had fallen so far under her mother''s influence."

    Norton''s eyes shadowed as he recalled Jete pretending not to know him that night. "Yeah. She''s nothing like she used to be. Jete was never vain before."

    He turned to Sawyer, deadly earnest. "Dad, we can''t just let this go on. We have to bring Jete home. If she stays with Aline any longer, she''ll be lost for good."

    Sawyer said nothing, lost in thought. He remembered the things Jete had said to him that day, and his heart went cold.

    Clifford''s words from before echoed in his mind, still fresh and painful.

    Unless Jete herself wanted toe back, he wouldn''t go looking for her again.

 Chapter 332

    Clifford had just been lost in thought about Citrine when Norton''s announcement jolted him back to the present. The moment Norton said they should bring Jete home, Clifford shot to his feet, his voice hard as steel.

    "No, we absolutely can''t bring Jete back," he insisted, unwavering.

    "Why not?" Norton stared at him in confusion. "Weren''t you two always the closest? What happened between you? Why are you suddenly so dead-set against her?"

    Clifford''s frustration boiled over. "She''s a traitor, that''s why! How can you not see it, even now?" He couldn''t understand how Norton-brilliant, perceptive Norton- could be so blind to Jete''s true nature.

    Norton''s expression darkened. "She just lost her way for a while. She''s our sister. We can''t give up on her."

    He paused, then sighed, memories surfacing from years past. "Don''t you remember? When you were sick, it was Jete who took care of you. The moment you got better, she fell ill herself. And when you needed a blood transfusion after that ident, she didn''t hesitate-she gave her own blood to save you."

    He looked Clifford in the eye, searching for a flicker of recognition. "Back when you were bullied at school, it was Jete who tracked those kids down and gave them a taste of their own medicine. And she was the only one in this family who ever supported your dreams. After everything she''s done for you, how can you just forget?"

    Norton recited, one by one, the moments that had supposedly bonded Jete and Clifford so closely over the years.

    But something in those memories set Clifford off. He shot to his feet, voice shaking with anger, "Enough! Just stop."

    Every word hit Clifford like a stone. Guilt twisted inside him¡ªhe had been so cruel to Citrine all these years.

    Norton''s voice softened. "I know Jete has gone too fartely, but she''s still our sister. We can''t just throw her away."

    Clifford''s eyes shed. "And what about Citrine? Is it so easy to throw her away? She never did anything wrong. All of us-every single one-we wronged her."

    He was unraveling, hisposure crumbling. He red at Norton, finger pointed usingly. "Citrine was right about you. You''re the real traitor here."

    Norton recoiled, stunned. He couldn''t believe it-his own brother, the one he''d always protected, now calling him out like this.

    Clifford slumped onto the sofa, his voice low but resolute. "It wasn''t Jete who cared for me when I was sick. It was Citrine. She stood up for me, she was the one who gave her blood, supported my hobbies-always her, never Jete."

    He looked up, pain etched on his face. "Jete stole everything that Citrine did and imed it for herself."

    Sawyer, silent until now, nodded solemnly. "That can''t be. There were witnesses- housekeepers, doctors. We all saw it."

    Clifford''s tone was icy. "The housekeepers'' paychecks alle from Aline. Do you really think they''d say anything that could get them fired? And the doctors? The hospital belongs to the Iverson Group. Aline''s Mrs. Iverson-if she wanted to change the records, who would dare stop her?"

    Sawyer and Norton stood frozen, their faces drained of color.

    They knew Clifford wasn''t lying; he never did. And deep down, they knew the truth of his words.

    After a long, heavy silence, Clifford finally spoke. "Dad, Norton-we''ve all wronged Citrine. Every single one of us in the Iverson family owes her more than we can ever repay."

    "She has every right to hate us."

 Chapter 333

    Raymond moved fast. In just a few short months, the Carmichael Group had uprooted and settled in Crestwood. During those early days after the move, Raymond was so swamped he barely had a moment to himself.

    Wanting to be closer to Citrine, the rest of the Carmichael family decided to relocate as well. Weston, missing his granddaughter terribly, simply moved straight into the new house Raymond had just bought in Crestwood.

    Salome Carmichael, hoping to see her niece more often, requested a transfer from herpany and joined JR Group''s Crestwood branch. For now, she had no choice but to stay with her older brother.

    Manley had noticed the Carmichael Group''s activity from the very beginning. Deep Horizon Enterprises quickly followed suit, and just a few monthster, Manley too moved operations to Crestwood. Without hesitation, he caught ate- night flight and shamelessly crashed at Raymond''s ce.

    One weekend, Travis came home for his break, only to find the house eerily empty-just him and four walls.

    Half the furniture and all the familiar things were gone. Travis stared at the emptiness in disbelief.

    Had they been robbed?

    He immediately called the housekeeper.

    His voice was urgent. "Ma''am, was there a break-in at the house?"

    On the other end, it sounded like she was in a noisy supermarket. After a

    moment, she finally answered, "Travis? Didn''t you know about the move? Didn''t your father tell you?"

    "Move?" Travis was dumbfounded.

    "Of course. Your father started nning the move ages ago. You really didn''t know?"

    Travis waspletely lost. He really hadn''t known.

    He pressed on, "Where did everyone go?"

    There was a pause as she thought. "I think your dad said Crestwood."

    Travis was speechless.

    Apparently, his own father had forgotten all about his eldest son.

    Freshman year wasn''t especially demanding, and with Citrine''s abilities far surpassing some of her professors, the school had officially exempted her from a number of sses. That left her with plenty of free time.

    On Sunday, Citrine decided to visit her grandfather.

    It had been a long time since they''dst seen each other.

    Ogden Winthrop''s eyes reddened the moment he saw his granddaughter. He tried

    to y it cool, grumbling, "You little rascal. Honestly, do you even have a conscience? Do you know how long it''s been since you visited?"

    Citrine grinned, slipping her arms around his from behind and whining yfully, "I''ve just been busy, that''s all! See? The moment I had some free time, I came right over."

    "Hmph. You''re hopeless," Ogden muttered, but he could never stay annoyed with her for long.

    Citrine looked him in the eye and promised, "Don''t worry, old man. From now on, I''ll visit you all the time."

    Ogden rolled his eyes dramatically. "That''s what you saidst time, too."

    Citrine feigned innocence. "Did I? I don''t remember that."

    She made a show of trying to recall, but Weston didn''t bother responding.

    Grandfather and granddaughter chatted for a while, then yed a few rounds of chess.

    Citrine usually won, but Ogden didn''t mind he was having more fun than he''d had in ages. The house echoed with hisughter all day long.

    At dinner, Ogden''s expression turned serious as he looked at Citrine. "Kid, Yates mentioned you haven''t visited him in a while."

    Citrine bit her lip, her face stiffening slightly. Her hand hesitated mid-reach for a dish before she finally replied, "Don''t listen to him. I''ve only missed a few visits."

    She ducked her head and started poking at her food, pretending not to care. Ogden let out a heavy sigh, torn between worry and affection.

    "Citrine, are you really not nning to return? If you keep failing the psych evaluations, you''ll never be allowed back, you know."

 Chapter 334

    At the mention of it, Citrine''s movements stiffened for a moment.

    She looked directly at Ogden, a trace of sadness coloring her voice. "You know as well as I do, there''s no going back for me now. Old man, don''t bother trying to talk me out of it."

    Ogden''sposure faltered instantly. Citrine was a rare talent-one of the best he''d ever seen and the thought of losing her made him anxious. "Kid, you can''t give up now. Everyone''s waiting for you toe back."

    Citrine fell silent, the quiet stretching on as she stared at the floor.

    Not wanting to push her too hard and risk driving her away, Ogden let the subject drop.

    After a while, something seemed to ur to him. "By the way, kid, the Vermillion Vanguard is about to run joint exercises with a team from the Federated States of Magnolia. Why don''t you go whip those cocky rookies into shape? With you training them, we''ll have nothing to worry about."

    Citrine was ready to refuse, but she hesitated. She thought about how many people might get hurt in a live drill without proper guidance. After a moment''s pause, she finally nodded.

    Meanwhile, the Vermillion Vanguard base was buzzing with excitement.

    "Did you hear HQ''s sending us a female instructor? I don''t know what they''re thinking. When we spar and she starts crying, they''d better not say we bullied her."

    "They could''ve at least picked one of those tough-as-nails drill sergeants. Training with a woman is going to be so dull."

    "I heard no woman''s ever made it through the Vanguard''s selection, except for the legend herself¡ªGeneral C, the undefeated war hero. But she vanished years ago. Who knows where HQ dug up thisdy instructor?"

    "Hey, maybe she''ll at least be easy on the eyes."

    "Yeah, here''s hoping she''s a bombshell."

    One of the guys nced at Hastings, who was finishing up a set of pull-ups. "Hey, Hastings, what do you think about HQ sending us a woman to train us?"

    Hastings just shrugged. "All show, no substance. She won''tst."

    The next morning, Citrine arrived at the base early, already dressed in her training gear.

    The instructor gave her a quick tour of the facilities and filled her in on the daily training routines before calling the squad to assemble.

    At the sound of the whistle, the team fell into neat formation, boots lined up perfectly.

    Hastings snapped to attention and saluted the instructor. "Sir, squad assembled and ready."

    At that moment, everyone noticed the young woman standing beside the instructor.

    "No way... is she the new instructor they sent us? She''s gorgeous!"

    "Gorgeous? She looks like she just walked out of a fashion magazine."

    "Seriously, look at her-skin like porcin, features so perfect she could be a doll in a shop window."

    "She''s got me hooked, man. I think I''m in love."

    "So this is what love at first sight feels like?"

    "Wait, is she really going to be our instructor? She barely looks old enough to

    have graduated high school! HQ must be out of their minds."

    "With arms and legs that skinny, if I go too hard during drills I''ll feel guilty for weeks."

    The squad murmured among themselves, but Hastings was lost in thought. He stared at Citrine in her uniform, shocked, and blurted out, "What are you doing here?"

    Citrine didn''t even nce his way, but the instructor looked surprised at Hastings''s outburst. Turning to Citrine, he asked respectfully, "You know Hastings?"

    Citrine nodded. "I do. He was my drill instructor. Took real good care of me." She made sure to put extra emphasis on "care."

    "Well, isn''t that something."

    The instructor, well aware of Citrine''s background and temperament, shot Hastings a sympathetic look. He''d need all the luck he could get.

 Chapter 335

    The supervisor surveyed the group below and barked, "Alright, that''s enough¡ª quiet down!"

    Once the noise died away, his tone turned grave as he addressed the team. "This is Instructor Carmichael. She''ll be yourmanding officer for the foreseeable future, and you will follow her orders without question."

    Every pair of eyes in the unit was fixed on Citrine''s face, not a single person so much as muttering a response.

    The supervisor nced at them, then turned to Citrine. "Instructor Carmichael, I''m leaving this unruly bunch in your hands."

    With that, he strode away, leaving the training ground to the new instructor and the entire crew of the Vermillion Vanguard.

    No sooner had the supervisor disappeared than the group let loose, dropping all pretense of discipline as they sized up their new leader.

    "Sweetheart, are you sure those skinny arms and legs of yours are up to the job? Did the brass force you into this, or are you here of your own free will?"

    "Hey, you actuallynded in the right squad. We gentlemen don''t rough up women."

    Someone in the back chimed in with augh, "So, got a boyfriend? What do you think of me?"

    Citrine''s expression never so much as flickered, but Hastings, overhearing the taunt, spun around and delivered a hard kick to the joker''s shin.

    "Watch your mouth. You''re looking for trouble."

    At that very moment, Citrine blew the whistle hanging from her neck and shouted, "Everyone line up! Ten-mile weighted run-now!"

    The team gaped at her in disbelief. "Ten miles? You''ve got to be kidding! We usually do five-ten will kill us!"

    Citrine let out a coldugh. "Don''t worry. It won''t kill you."

    "But this isn''t a reasonable training regimen¡ª"

    She seemed genuinely amused by that, her voice icy. "Reasonable? There''s nothing reasonable about my training. Here, we break limits."

    With that, she climbed into the military jeep, adding, "And if you don''t finish on time, that''s an extra thousand push-ups for everyone."

    Reluctantly, and with much grumbling, Hastings and the others heaved their weighted packs onto their shoulders and started running.

    Citrine drove alongside the group, asionally leaning out the window to call out, "Is that all you''ve got? Pick up the pace!"

    One of the team,pletely spent, stopped dead in his tracks, gasping for air. "I can''t I just can''t go any farther!"

    Citrine''s reply was merciless. "A man never says he can''t. Get up and keep running."

    Even Hastings, tough as he was, was drenched in sweat by the end of the ten miles, struggling to keep his legs moving.

    As Citrine''s jeep drew alongside him, she slowed down and leaned out, a teasing smile on her lips. "Mr. Cooper, don''t tell me this is your best. Where''s all that bravado from basic training? You gave me quite a hard time back then."

    "But now I''m your instructor. Don''t worry-I''ll make sure to return the favor."

    "Bring it on," Hastings shot back, realizing for the first time what it meant to hoist yourself with your own petard.

    Something seemed to click in his mind, and he asked, "Why didn''t you show up the day basic training ended? You must hate me, right?"

    He remembered how she hadn''t even bothered to see him off that day. The thought stung-she must truly despise him.

    Citrine''s lips curled into a small smile. "Why would I? You''re nobody to me. Why should I have seen you off?"

    "And as for hate? You''re not even worth that much."

    Nobody to her.

    Hastings pressed his lips together, silent for a long moment before speaking again, his tone tinged with jealousy. "So, is Sebastian ''somebody'' to you?"

    Citrine froze briefly, realizing he was jealous, then burst outughing. "Are you seriously jealous right now?"

    She couldn''t help but feel she''d stumbled upon something far more interesting than she''d expected.

 Chapter 336

    This guy seemed to have a thing for her.

    The moment Hastings heard her words, he practically exploded. "What nonsense are you spouting? Why would I be jealous over you? You stole Kali''s guy, if anything, I can''t stand you!"

    Citrine just curled her lips into a half-smile, looking at him with mock sympathy. "That''s for the best. Whatever you do, don''t fall for me. Trust me, anyone who does ends up miserable."

    It was as if Hastings had been jabbed with a live wire his face twisted in annoyance. "Don''t tter yourself. I already like someone else."

    Deep down, he reminded himself: There''s no way I''d ever like this brat. Kali''s the only one I''ve ever cared about.

    "Good." Citrine''s voice was cool and indifferent. With that, she pressed the elerator and picked up the pace.

    By the time they hit the five-mile mark, people were already dropping behind.

    One of the team members, absolutely wiped out, just copsed on the roadside and refused to budge.

    "Get up," Hastings hissed, ncing up to make sure Citrine hadn''t noticed. Seeing she was busy with the lead vehicle, he leaned down and tried to haul the guy to his feet.

    The exhausted man wiped sweat from his brow, gulping air. "I can''t do it, Captain. I''m spent."

    A few more stragglers stumbled up, then flopped down in the dirt, too tired to care. "I''m out too, Captain. No way I''m running another step."

    "She''s going to kill us with this pace," someone groaned. "That girl''s insane."

    "What has she ever done to earn the right to boss us around from the front seat? If she''s so tough, she should be out here running with us," another chimed in resentfully.

    "All talk, no real skill-just a bunch of ridiculous ideas. She''s a demon, I swear, she''ll be the death of me."

    Hastings snapped, his tone icy as he barked, "Enough. All of you, cut it out."

    He looked down at the slumped figures, frustration clear in his voice. "Those of you still standing, help carry the gear for the ones who can''t keep up. Today we have to finish this ten-mile run-no excuses. If we don''t, no one''s ever going to take us seriously."

    Thest thing he wanted was to be humiliated in front of that infuriating girl.

    With that, he ordered, "Move out. Keep running."

    "Yes, sir!" the group answered in unison.

    Citrine''s orders they could ignore if they chose, but Hastings was their captain. His word carried weight-there was no ignoring that.

    They might tune out Instructor Carmichael, but when Hastings gave amand, they listened.

    With teammates helping share the load, even the most exhausted among them found a second wind, and their steps grew lighter as they pressed on.

    By the time the whole group staggered across the finish line, dead on their feet and desperate for a break, Citrine suddenly blew her whistle.

    Her eyes were cold as she surveyed them, her voice sharp andmanding. "Line up!"

    There wasn''t a trace of a smile in her eyes. Her gaze was cutting, her presence enough to make even the most rebellious among them stand straight.

    Citrine spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. "Everyone-one thousand push-ups. Hastings, you''ll do two thousand."

    "What? That''s not fair! We finished within the time limit, no one dropped out-why are you punishing us?" Hastings shot back, convinced she was targeting him on purpose.

    Citrine just scoffed, not bothering to spare anyone''s pride. "You call letting your teammates haul your pack for you teamwork? What are you going to do in battle ¡ªmake someone else carry your load because you''re tired?"

    She fixed Hastings with an unflinching stare and said coldly, "You''re the one who needs this lesson most. This was your bright idea."

    "You think you helped your team, but all you did was hold them back. Tell me, Hastings are you going to do this on the battlefield, too? If not, then stop acting like you''re doing them a favor."

 Chapter 337

    "Citrine Carmichael, you''re out of line." There was a flicker of anger on Hastings'' face as he shot Citrine a cold, mocking smile. "Go home. This isn''t some yground for your little games."

    He red at Citrine, then shrugged off all his gear and tossed it onto the ground, making it clear he was done ying along.

    At that, the rest of the squad burst into apuse.

    "Hastings is right."

    "We''re a team of tough guys-no way we''re letting some little girl push us around."

    "Look, you''re just a kid. We won''t hold it against you, but you better head home and have them send us a male instructor next time." The word "male"nded with heavy emphasis.

    Citrine shot the group a look of utter disappointment. "Real tough, aren''t you?"

    Her voice was like ice. "You want a new instructor? Keep dreaming."

    "The first lesson for any soldier is to follow orders. From where I stand, none of you are even close to being proper soldiers."

    "Who the hell are you to say that about us?" That was the one thing these men couldn''t stand to hear. Citrine had hit a nerve.

    One of them stepped forward, ring at her, his annoyance palpable. "Instructor Carmichael, we don''t ept your judgment. You''ve got no right to talk down to us like that."

    "Orders? What orders? We''re out there running drills while you sit in the car. What gives you the right to judge us?"

    Others chimed in, egged on by the challenge. "Yeah, you''re just a girl-what real skills do you have? You make us run a ten-mile endurance course with full packs, but I''d like to see you try. Forget ten miles, could you even manage five?"

    "Honestly, with those skinny arms and legs, I doubt you''d make it through two miles without copsing."

    Citrine''s lips curled into a sudden smile as she looked them over. "If you''re not convinced, why not settle it the old-fashioned way? If you lose, you follow my lead -noints."

    ¡°Fine. Then let''spete in the challenge we train for most. If you can beat any of us, we''ll do whatever you say."

    "Deal." Citrine agreed without hesitation.

    The first event was hand-to-handbat. In the whole squad, Hastings was the undisputed champion.

    "Captain, you''re the best fighter here. No way she can beat you."

    Someone gave Hastings a shove toward the center.

    But the memory of losing to this girl during boot camp still stung, and something darkened in Hastings'' gaze. "I can''t promise I''ll win."

    "Come on, Captain, don''t joke around-nobody in the Vermillion Vanguard can outfight you." The rest of the team justughed, thinking he was bluffing.

    Hastings didn''t bother exining. Deep down, he hoped thatst loss to Citrine had just been a fluke.

    Citrine slid off her jacket and beckoned to Hastings with a crooked finger. "Let''s go."

    This time, Hastings didn''t hesitate. He stepped into the ring, all business.

    Having learned his lesson from thest bout, he didn''t dare let his guard down. As soon as he was ready, Citrineunched her attack.

    Her assault was relentless. Hastings could barely keep up. Every time he tried to block a punch, she''d switch tactics, striking with her other hand, or sweeping in with a kick aimed at his weak spots.

    She didn''t fight by the book-her moves were unpredictable, and Hastings struggled to read her attacks.

    After just two rounds, he was already out of breath.

    Then, in a blur, Citrine spotted her opening andnded a solid kick square in Hastings'' chest.

    He went down hard, clutching his ribs, taking a long moment to regain his senses. This time, Citrine had finished the fight even faster.

    Comparing this bout to thest, Hastings realized she''d actually gone easy on him before.

    He looked up at the girl standing over him, his expression a tangled mix of defeat and awe. "I lost."

    Citrine just smiled. "Wasn''t that obvious?"

    The whole squad stared at Citrine, as if they were seeing a creature from another world.

    "No way... That''s impossible. Hastings is the best fighter on the team, and she just took down Mr. Cooper like it was nothing."

 Chapter 338

    "She''s so fast! I didn''t even see her move-next thing I know, she already hit Mr. Cooper."

    "It''s not just her speed. Didn''t you notice she kept faking out Hastings with all those feints?"

    "This girl is way too sly."

    ...

    They grumbled, but everyone knew Citrine had won this round.

    "Fine, call it luck. Next up-shooting. Leo, you''ve got the best scores. You''re up against her."

    Leo stepped forward and led Citrine to the shooting range.

    He nced at her, feeling a bit like a bully for going up against someone so slight. Just before the round began, he hesitated and said, "Ladies first?¡±

    "No need," Citrine replied coolly.

    Leo decided not to push it. He raised his pistol, took aim, and fired three shots in

    a row. All three punched through the dead center of the target.

    A chorus of gasps erupted.

    "Perfect scores-ten rings. That''s insane!"

    "Leo, you''re making us proud!"

    Hastings shot Citrine a smug smile. "See that? Leo''s already won."

    God, she hated that look. Just seeing his face annoyed her.

    Citrine impatiently shoved Hastings aside. "Move. Watch and learn.¡±

    Someone behind Hastings stepped forward, looking at Citrine with a smirk. "Hey, Instructor Carmichael, have you even handled a gun before?"

    He snickered. "Can you even assemble it? Want us to show you how it''s done?"

    Citrine didn''t spare him a nce. She let out a coldugh, then snapped the handgun together with practiced ease.

    She nced over her shoulder to check the target, spun around, and-one- handed-fired three shots behind her in rapid session.

    All eyes were glued to Citrine; no one even bothered looking at the target.

    Most of them figured she was just showing off and were ready to mock her-until Hastings spoke up, voice tight. "She hit it. All tens."

    Hastings stared at the perfect scores, disbelief written all over his face. If he hadn''t seen it himself, he wouldn''t have believed it.

    The others finally looked-and were stunned into silence.

    "Next," Citrine said, ignoring their shock. She strode straight toward the next challenge.

    The next event was the spinning endurance ball.

    Sam was the team''s best at this. Citrine stepped up without a word; Sam climbed onto the other ball.

    At Hastings'' signal, they both started spinning.

    Sam''s personal record was an hour. This time, he pushed himself to a brutal hour and twenty minutes before he staggered off, dizzy and sick, and threw up on the sidelines.

    Citrine, by contrast, didn''t even look fazed. She stayed on for another full hour, finally stepping off after two and a half hours as if she''d just finished a stroll.

    "You''re unbelievable," Sam said, giving her a shaky thumbs-up, full of genuine admiration.

    By now, the team members were starting to question their own abilities.

    Citrine didn''t miss a beat. "What''s next?"

    Before she could move on, Hastings grabbed her arm.

    "That''s enough," he said quietly. "We lost."

    Citrine smirked and turned a frosty gaze on the one who''d spoken up earlier. "You -the one who wanted a male instructor. See now? Women aren''t necessarily inferior to men. Sometimes, a so-called ''useless'' man can be crushed beneath a woman''s heel."

    Her voice went cold. "Don''t let me hear that kind of talk again."

    "Yes, ma''am." The guy ducked his head, shamefaced.

    After that day, no one dared challenge Citrine''s authority. For the next few days, her orders were followed without question.

    No one saw the eighteen-year-old girl in front of them as just another kid anymore.

    Behind her back, they''d already started calling her the "devil instructor."

 Chapter 339

    For the next several days, the entire team woke to grueling drills that ran from dawn till dusk, leaving barely a moment for anything but eating and sleeping. The relentless pace allowed no room to breathe.

    Just as the group finally began to adjust to Citrine''s punishing regimen, she upped the ante again, piling on even more.

    At the moment, they were crawling through a muddy swamp. Everyone strained forward, muscles burning, faces twisted in agony as they dragged themselves through the muck.

    Citrine stood at the edge of the pit, arms folded, her gaze icy and unyielding. "Not fast enough," she barked. "Move! Pick it up!"

    When Hastings crawled past her, Citrine didn''t hesitate-she swung her boot andnded a sharp kick right to his backside.

    She sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. "What''s wrong? Didn''t get breakfast? This is all you''ve got?"

    Since the day Hastings joined the Vermillion Vanguard, he''d always been the standout the one the instructors praised, the one everyone expected to lead. Not once had anyone chewed him out, let alone kicked his ass in front of the whole squad.

    Now, face down in the mud, Hastings red at Citrine, humiliated. "Just wait," he muttered through clenched teeth. "When this is over, I swear I''ll kill you."

    What an idiot-still all talk, Citrine thought, and let out a carelessugh. Then, without warning, she pressed her boot down on his face, grinding it in for good measure. "I''ll be waiting."

    A little arrogance wouldn''t hurt to wear off.

    From then on, Citrine seemed to have it out for Hastings. She picked apart everything he did, her words cutting and sharp, and sometimes her critiques turned physical-shoving him, tripping him, even pinning his face into the ground with her heel.

    Everyone noticed she was targeting Hastings, and they all assumed he must hate her with a burning passion.

    But only Hastings knew the truth. Instead of hating her, he was furious with himself. Somehow, despite all her deliberate humiliation, he felt an inexplicable thrill every time she singled him out. Try as he might, he couldn''t muster any real resentment.

    Pathetic, he scolded himself. Absolutely pathetic.

    Everyone expected Citrine''s only weapon was relentless training, but a few dayster, she surprised them by suddenly calling a halt.

    That day, she called out Hastings directly. "Spar with me."

    He froze, caught off guard. "I''m not your match," he blurted, shaking his head.

    Citrine didn''t care. She grabbed him by the cor and yanked him forward. "Cut the crap. Fight me."

    With no choice, Hastings had to face her. He did his best, but no matter what, she outmaneuvered him at every turn.

    The others figured Citrine just wanted an excuse to beat Hastings ck and blue. Even Hastings thought so until she spoke.

    "Don''t get distracted by my feints, Hastings," she said, her tone suddenly instructive. ¡°Right now, stop thinking about how I''ll attack. Trust your instincts. Don''t let me control the pace."

    ¡°Instead of guessing which hand I''ll use, attack my legs the moment you see an opening."

    The words hit Hastings like a bolt of lightning. Suddenly, everything clicked.

    He stopped overthinking her moves. Trusting his gut, heunched a fierce attack at her lower body. Sure enough, he managed to block her strike and even forced her to fall back several paces.

    It all made sense now.

    From then on, he stopped fixating on Citrine''s technique and simply moved. His reactions grew sharper, his attacks more precise. In the end, he still lost-but this time, hested through ten full rounds with her.

    Compared to before, it was a giant leap forward.

    For the first time, Citrine grinned at him¡ªa rare, genuine smile, like a mentor watching her student finally break through. "Not bad. You''re notpletely hopeless anymore. From here, you''re on your own."

 Chapter 340

    A single, decidedly untteringment left Hastings blushing in an instant.

    Citrine''sughter was dazzling, and for a moment, Hastings couldn''t tear his eyes away. By the time he realized he was staring, even the tips of his ears had turned pink.

    The room erupted into apuse for him.

    "Captain, you''re incredible!" someone called out.

    Noticing the growing flush in his cheeks, another teammate nudged closer. "Hey, Captain, are youing down with something? Your face is bright red."

    "Even your ears are red!" another chimed in.

    "Oh, cut it out," Hastings shot back, pushing them away.

    Almost reflexively, he turned to look straight at Citrine.

    She was watching him too.

    Citrine wasn''t naive-in fact, she was sharp as a tack, always attuned to people''s moods. Now, she gave Hastings a subtle, knowing smile.

    He was about to smile back when, out of nowhere, Citrine quipped, "Hopeless."

    Hastings''s would-be smile vanished in an instant, but the color in his ears only deepened.

    Citrine lost interest and moved on, shifting her focus to put each team member through a round of one-on-one training.

    With her guidance, everyone made noticeable progress in their specialties.

    After the special training sessions, Citrine organized a series of simted military drills, helping the team adapt ahead of time.

    At the end of each exercise, she would break down the tactics used by both sides, analyzing strategies and counter-strategies. She''d even exin what she might have done if she were the enemy.

    By the end of the month, the realbat drill against the Magnolia squad was about to begin.

    On their final day of preparation, Citrine stood before the group-not mocking, not aloof, but genuinely focused. She gave everyone a thumbs-up.

    With unreserved praise, she said, "You''ve all done an outstanding job these past weeks."

    Despite her past shes with Hastings, and despite the team''s initial resentment, in this moment, Citrine saw them all as true defenders of their homnd.

    Her words left the soldiers with stinging eyes. Somehow, all the exhaustion and hardship suddenly felt worthwhile.

    "Thank you, instructor," someone said quietly.

    "If it weren''t for you, we''d never have pushed past our limits," another added. "You brought out the best in us."

    Though Citrine had pushed them hard-sometimes to the point of breaking, sometimes calling them useless they all knew, deep down, there was a reason for everything she did.

    Under her training, everyone''s skills had sharpened, and their temperaments had steadied. Hastings, especially, had grown into the role of a truemander.

    It was during the grueling drills that Hastings finally understood Citrine''s intentions. He felt a pang of guilt for having once thought she was merely tormenting him for the fun of it.

    Now, as the team exchanged nces, Citrine''s lips curled into a rare smile.

    A momentter, she looked at them, her expression turning solemn.

    "Today, we''re skipping drills. I want to teach you some emergency first aid. Learn it well-it could save your life one day."

    With that, Citrine began exining how to handle injuries in various battlefield scenarios.

    She spoke with care, and the team listened intently.

    As members of the Vermillion Vanguard, they weren''t afraid of death, but Citrine''s earnestness struck a chord with all of them.

    When she finished, Citrine looked over the group, her voice gentle for once.

    "Remember, no matter what, you fight to stay alive. Your lives matter-not just to your country, but to your families."

    Moved, the team responded in unison, "Yes, ma''am! We promise we''ll make it back alive."

 Chapter 341

    Before they left, Citrine handed each soldier a bottle of medicine: some to stop bleeding, others for pain relief, and a few to keep you alive in the direst

    circumstances. The most precious of all, a single Vitaflux capsule, was carefully sealed in its own incubation case.

    Citrine instructed Hastings to distribute them one by one.

    "What''s this?" The soldiers examined the bottles, curiosity lighting up their faces.

    "Captain, you''re nothing like the other instructors," one of them remarked with a grin.

    "Everyone else cranks up the training before a big exercise, but you- you give us a crash course in medicine and hand out half a pharmacy."

    Citrine looked over her squad, her voice calm but firm. "The bottles are for treating wounds¡ªstopping the bleeding or easing the pain. But that capsule in the case is different. Remember, only open it if you''re hanging by a thread. And don''t break the seal until you need it; the medicine inside onlysts a day once it''s out of the solution."

    One of the soldiers weighed the tiny box in his palm, grinning. "Is this thing really that good? Will it actually save your life when you''re at death''s door?"

    Citrine met his gaze and nodded gravely. "It will."

    After so much time training together, everyone in the squad knew Citrine''s temperament. Hearing her say this, they each tucked the precious capsule away without hesitation.

    That night, the unit threw a party-tables piled with food and drinks, music andughter filling the air. The whole squad buzzed with excitement for tomorrow''s drill. After all, every soldier dreamed of the day they''d see real action.

    When no one was looking, Hastings slipped away from his table and headed over to Citrine''s. By then, everyone around her had had a little too much to drink- except Citrine herself, who sat quietly nursing a ss.

    Finding her alone, Hastings looked genuinely pleased. He dropped into the seat across from her and fixed her with a searching stare. "You''re leaving after you finish training us, aren''t you?"

    The alcohol had flushed Hastings''s cheeks, the faint pink glow unmistakable under the moonlight.

    "That''s right," Citrine replied, unfazed, not yet sensing anything amiss.

    A shadow of disappointment flickered in his eyes, but he quickly masked it, looking at her with a hint of hope. "Will I ever see you again?"

    Citrine blinked, caught off guard.

    Had he been drinking? She distinctly remembered him swearing not long ago that he''d kill her the moment they were out of here. People didn''t change that quickly -had he lost his mind?

    She studied him for a moment longer, then caught the strong scent of whiskey on his breath.

    So that''s it. He''s not crazy-just drunk.

    When Citrine didn''t reply, Hastings''s expression darkened. "Do you really hate me that much? You don''t even want to see me again?"

    Citrine stayed silent. He wasn''t wrong.

    After a moment, Hastings sighed in resignation. "Fine, I''ll admit I was out of line before. I''m sorry." Then, after a pause, he asked, "Can I visit you at Crestwood University someday?"

    Citrine didn''t answer. Has he lost his mindpletely? Why would he want to see her?

    Normally, she wouldn''t have let an opportunity to tease him slip by. But with the big field exercise against Magnolia tomorrow, she couldn''t risk messing with anyone''s head tonight.

    So she said nothing.

    Hastings, still waiting for a response, let out a long sigh. "You''re a tough one, aren''t you?"

    He reached up, unsped the chain from around his neck, and leaned forward, trying to slip it over hers. "Here-take this."

    "What are you doing?" Citrine jumped up, startled, quickly backing away several steps.

 Chapter 342

    A flicker of disappointment crossed Hastings'' eyes as he heard her refusal. He hesitated, then finally said, "They say this field exercise is live-fire. Who knows if I''ll make it back. Here, I want you to have this."

    Citrine pressed her lips together, hesitating for a moment before finally sitting down again. She let Hastings fasten the ne around her neck.

    What Hastings didn''t know was that, the moment he left, Citrine immediately took off the ne and slipped it into her pocket.

    The next day, the joint field exercise between Vermillion Vanguard and Magnolia officially began.

    As an instructor, Citrine was seated in the very center of the operations room, surrounded by Vermillion Vanguard''s trainers and officers, all watching the live

    feed.

    Someone nearby couldn''t help but whisper, "General, do you think our guys have a shot at winning this?"

    Citrine nced at him and replied simply, "Yes."

    At first, the Vermillion Vanguard team steamrolled Magnolia''s soldiers at every turn. But halfway through, Magnolia started to y dirty, disregarding the rules and secretly using concealed weapons.

    Leo was wounded by one of their hidden des, and before he could recover, the same opponent took a shot at him. Leo twisted just in time, so the bullet missed anything vital, but it still lodged itself deep in his shoulder.

    Citrine''s heart clenched as she watched the scene unfold on the screen. Silently, she prayed that Leo would be all right.

    Seeing Leo go down, Hastings rushed to his side, firing a shot that struck the Magnolia soldier square in the chest.

    As the enemy fell, Hastings grabbed Leo and managed to drag him to safety, ducking down behind cover.

    Leo gritted his teeth and tried to shove Hastings away. "Go," he gasped, "don''t worry about me."

    But Hastings refused to leave. For the first time, he was staring the possibility of a teammate''s death right in the face.

    He knew this was different from any exercise before-real bullets, real danger, and any mistake could mean someone wouldn''t make it out alive.

    Red-eyed, Hastings looked at Leo and spoke with quiet conviction. "You''re injured. If you run into more of them, you''re finished."

    Leo looked back at him, pain etched into his face. "If I stay, I''ll just slow you down."

    Hastings snapped in a low, urgent voice, "Slow us down? Did you forget what the instructor said? We''re a team. We stick together, no matter what."

    Suddenly, he remembered the medicine Citrine had given him.

    He yanked off his pack and dug out a small bottle of painkillers and some clotting powder, pressing them into Leo''s hands.

    "Hang in there. If we don''t take care of this, you could lose your arm. Hold on¡ªI''m getting that bullet out."

    Using the emergency first aid techniques Citrine had taught them, Hastings carefully extracted the bullet from Leo''s shoulder, staunched the bleeding, and quickly bandaged the wound.

    Leo endured the pain in silence, never making a sound.

    The two of them stayed hidden until nightfall. Only then did Hastings help Leo follow the signs left by their teammates, eventually meeting up with the rest of the squad.

    When they regrouped, Hastings saw that several others had also been injured, but thankfully, everyone had followed Citrine''s instructions for first aid, and none of the wounds were life-threatening.

    The next morning, Hastings led a small strike team, each man bristling with weapons, and together theyunched an all-out surprise attack on the enemy''s base. They torched the enemy''s food stores and destroyed theirmunications equipment, then melted away before anyone could catch them.

    The ambush caught the Magnolia teampletely off guard, costing them dearly. The following day, Hastings struck again. Even though Magnolia had reinforced their base after the first attack, they still suffered heavy losses.

    After two brutal assaults, Magnolia assumed Vermillion Vanguard had thrown all their forces into attacking their base. On the third day, they pulled everyone back, determined to make a final stand.

    But no one expected what came next. Hastings had stationed another squad on the road, waiting for just this opportunity. As Magnolia''s troops marched home, Vermillion Vanguard''s ambush swept the entire force off the field.

    The exercise ended in a decisive victory for Vermillion Vanguard.

 Chapter 343

    During the exercise, twenty team members suffered minor injuries, fifteen were seriously hurt, and ten hovered at death''s door.

    Those with minor wounds recovered quickly after taking the medicine Instructor Carmichael had provided. The seriously injured followed her instructions for bandaging and stopping the bleeding; after medical treatment, none were left withsting damage. As for the soldiers who nearly died, at the critical moment, they opened the small metal boxes Carmichael had handed out. The Vitaflux capsules inside pulled them back from the brink, snatching them away from death itself.

    Not only did the team win the exercise in spectacr fashion, but not a single soldier was lost.

    After it was all over, Carmichael was about to head outside to greet the returning squad. She hadn''t even reached the door when a crowd of soldiers came rushing towards her, filling the hallway with shouts andughter.

    She froze for a split second, a strange sense of foreboding prickling at her nerves. Just as she was about to turn and make a run for it, Hastings caught her around the waist. A momentter, the rest of the team swept in and hoisted her into the air, tossing her up, catching her, and tossing her again in a whirlwind of jubtion.

    Their faces shone with joy as they chanted, "Instructor Carmichael! Instructor Carmichael!"

    The infectious energy of their celebration washed over her, and soon Carmichael wasughing right along with them.

    "Instructor Carmichael, we couldn''t have done it without you! If not for your guidance, there''s no way we would have won this time."

    It was Carmichael who had drilled them relentlessly on tactics, who had taught them to recognize and counter strategies used by elite teams from around the world. Without her, they wouldn''t have seen through the Magnolia squad''s maneuvers they very likely would have lost.

    ¡°And the medical training you gave us¡ªif it weren''t for that, who knows how many of us would be out ofmission, or worse?"

    "And then you gave us Vitaflux... You''re incredible."

    "You saved lives, Instructor. You''re the real hero here."

    "We''re your soldiers. Always."

    Vitaflux might not appear on any pharmacy shelf, but everyone knew about the legendary life-saving drug. When the soldiers opened those little boxes and saw the capsules inside, they were stunned.

    That was a drug worth billions, something money couldn''t even buy. To receive it, free of charge, from their own instructor-it was unimaginable.

    Let alone that a single capsule could mean the difference between life and death.

    Hastings, with his broad experience, was the first to recognize it. The moment he saw the pill, he knew exactly what it was, and the shock nearly floored him.

    Despite his wealthy background, he had neverid eyes on Vitaflux in his life. Even his family, with all their resources, couldn''t get their hands on a single dose -yet Carmichael had casually handed out over forty, making sure every member of the team had one.

    Who was she, really?

    Early the next morning, Carmichael nned to slip quietly away from the base, hoping not to disturb anyone.

    She was barely out the door when she ran right into Hastings, who was waiting for her.

    "You''re up early. What are you doing here?" She looked at him, startled.

    "I heard you were leaving. Thought I''d see you off," he said, lips pressed together, clearly a bit embarrassed.

    He remembered everything he''d said to her that night after too many drinks. He especially remembered pressing that ne into her hand, insisting she keep it. His ears flushed red at the memory.

    He couldn''t exin, even to himself, why he''d done it. The ne was his mother''s keepsake, his most treasured possession.

    But now that he''d given it to her, he had no intention of taking it back.

    Carmichael had meant to refuse his offer to walk her out, but seeing the tips of his ears turn red, she changed her mind.

    She shed a sly smile. "Alright."

    "Here, take this." Without the slightest hesitation, she tossed her luggage into his

    arms.

 Chapter 344

    Hastings hauled his luggage behind Citrine, trailing her in silence before he finally spoke up. "I underestimated you before. You''re... impressive. And you''ve got real character."

    To give away over forty Vitaflux capsules without a second thought-most people wouldn''t dream of doing that.

    He genuinely admired her generosity. If the roles were reversed, he doubted he could be as selfless as Citrine.

    Citrine paused, turning back to sh him a yful grin. "Funny. Wasn''t it you just a while ago threatening to kill me? Now you''re all sweet and attentive. Don''t tell me you''ve fallen for me?"

    She pped a hand over her mouth, feigning shock.

    Hastings pressed his lips together, scowling. "Don''t tter yourself. There''s no way I''d fall for a brat like you."

    Citrine snorted and shot back, "Oh really? Who was it the other night looking all pitiful, asking if you coulde find me and insisting on giving me your ne?"

    "You-" Hastings hadn''t expected her to bring up that night. His face darkened with embarrassment.

    He red at her, stubborn as ever. "Don''t worry. I''m never going to like you."

    He wasn''t sure if he was trying to convince her-or himself.

    Stubborn mutt.

    Citrine couldn''t be bothered to argue. She hopped into the car, tossing her bag onto the passenger seat, then called out to Hastings.

    "Here, take your junk back. Why don''t you save it for Kali? I don''t need it." She reached into her pocket and pulled out the ne Hastings had put around her neck that night, tossing it back to him without a second nce.

    Hastings lunged to catch it, terrified it might hit the ground.

    He clutched the ne tightly, ring at Citrine. "Junk? This is the most important thing I own!"

    It was thest keepsake from his mother-his most treasured possession.

    And this damn girl just called it junk.

    After seeing Hastings'' face nearly every day recently, Citrine was getting sick of the sight of him. She rolled her eyes. "If it''s really that important, save it for someone who matters. I''m not interested."

    With that, she mmed her foot on the gas and sped off, leaving him standing in a cloud of dust.

    Hastings stood there, staring after the disappearing car, breathing hard-then let out a halfugh of exasperation.

    Unbelievable. He''d never met anyone so infuriating.

    And hell, she was only eighteen.

    Life in the barracks these past weeks had been rough. So once she got back to Verona Heights, Citrine treated herself to a long, luxurious shower before leisurely heading to campus.

    She''d been away for over a month, training with the Vermillion Vanguard, and hadn''t attended sses at all during that time. Plenty of people at school were annoyed by her absence, though Citrine herself waspletely unaware of the brewing discontent.

    As soon as she got back to her dorm, Ingrid and the others filled her in on thetest uproar on the university''s official social media.

    Citrine pulled up the school''s ount and scrolled. Sure enough, under every post from Crestwood University, there were a string of studentments.

    She nced through a few. None of them were ttering.

    "First-year med student Citrine Carmichael skips ss for over a month and the school does nothing? Is she being protected or what?"

    "Seriously? How did trash like this even get into Crestwood? Is it that easy to get in now?"

    "With students like her studying medicine, I have to ask-what hospital would hire her? What patient would trust her with surgery?"

    "She''s a bad influence. The school should just expel her already."

    "With people like her, it''s only a matter of time before Crestwood''s reputation goes down the drain."

 Chapter 345

    Ingrid was fuming. "Citrine, these people are absolutely outrageous."

    "You clearly asked for leave in advance-they''re just making up rumors."

    Citrine arched an eyebrow, a hint of mischief in her voice. "Clumsy tricks. Not even worth my time."

    Without another word, she whipped out her phone and posted on her social media.

    @CICI: [photo of official leave request], @Dean of Crestwood University School of Medicine #CrestwoodUniversity

    She didn''t just post her leave request-she tagged the Dean of Crestwood''s medical school for good measure. The bold move left everyone watchingpletely stunned.

    But of course, some paid trolls in thements insisted the leave document was photoshopped; a few sneered that tagging the Dean was just a desperate bluff.

    After all, Crestwood''s medical program was the university''s crown jewel, and its Dean worked at the prestigious Crestwood Medical Research Center-a ce reserved for top-tier medical minds. No one honestly believed the Dean would waste time replying to a student''s social media drama.

    As rumors and usations piled up against Citrine online, something happened that no one expected: the Dean of the School of Medicine, joined by Citrine''s faculty advisor, both posted responses.

    Dean of Crestwood Medical: The requested leave is legitimate. Furthermore, Citrine is one of our department''s most promising medical talents-her abilities far surpass her peers. She is afforded the freedom to request leave as needed. @CICI

    To back it up, the Dean attached a two-year-old letter of admission confirming Citrine''s early eptance to Crestwood, as well as redacted images of several patented medical formtions she''d developed.

    Faculty Advisor, Clinical Medicine: The leave is legitimate. Anyone spreading false rumors will face consequences. @CICI

    With those posts, the trolls vanished almost instantly.

    Just as the hiredmenters rushed to delete their posts, Citrine tapped a fewmands on herptop. Suddenly, every anonymous ount''s disy name transformed-revealing real names and phone numbers.

    There was no hiding now. The university quicklypiled the list, cross- referenced the information, and handed out severe disciplinary actions to everyone involved in spreading lies.

    Off-campus, other inte users realized they''d been manipted¡ªand that thetest ¡°scandal¡± was nothing but hot air. Some, unable to let it go, tracked down the trolls by their phone numbers and let their parents know exactly what their kids had been up to online.

    After that, Citrine''s haters did aplete one-eighty.

    "It turns out we were the clowns all along! No wonder people were trying to smear her-jealousy is a powerful thing."

    "My God, she was epted to Crestwood on a special schrship while she was still a junior in high school? How brilliant do you have to be?"

    "She''s got her own medical patents too? That''s incredible."

    "She''s only a freshman? That''s almost scary."

    With the truth out, Citrine''s social media overflowed with new followers-everyone wanted to know more about this extraordinary girl.

    Some eagle-eyed fans even dug through her birthday photos and uncovered her family background.

    "Wait a sec¡ªshe''s the heiress to the Carmichael family, the most powerful family in Havencrest!"

    "No wonder her eighteenth birthday was such a big deal-half the city''s elite wished her happy birthday online. That''s how you know you''re special."

    "And to think the Iverson family tried to me her for pushing Jete? That''s just vile."

    "The Iversons really are the worst."

    "She''s been through so much and still came out strong... I can''t even imagine."

    "Thank goodness she finally came home to the Carmichaels. They clearly love her -on her eighteenth birthday, they rented out thousands of helicopters for a surprise celebration. Talk about being cherished!"

 Chapter 346

    After the news broke on social media, Citrine''s past became an open book, and the inte fell for her all over again-if anything, people just felt more protective and affectionate toward her. In just a matter of hours, her follower count soared by hundreds of thousands.

    Ingrid, Lisa, and Jane also dug into Citrine''s story online, learning everything they''d never known. Suddenly, everyone finally understood why her casual gifts were always so extravagant. After all, she was the heiress of Havencrest-the Carmichael family''s only daughter, a real-life princess in every sense.

    Meanwhile, across the city, Kali was holed up in her apartment, seething as she scrolled through the news online. Fury boiled over, and she trashed everything within reach-sses shattered, picture frames splintered, anything that could break, did.

    Kali''s mood was ruined for the whole day.

    Theo called that evening, immediately picking up on his little sister''sckluster tone. "Kali, don''t be upset. I''m heading out tonight with Hastings and Quentin at the bar. Come unwind with us?"

    "Sure," Kali agreed without a second thought. The mention of Hastings and Quentin lit a spark in her, and she actually managed a small smile.

    That night, Theo booked a private suite at the bar. Hastings and Quentin had already arrived early and were slouched in a corner, cigarettes dangling from their lips, both looking a million miles away.

    "What''s gotten into you two tonight?" Theo asked, genuinely curious. "You look like the world''s ending."

    Quentin ground out his cigarette with an annoyed flick, jaw clenched tight. "Theo, I still can''t let it go. Just thinking about that bastard who made me aughingstock in our circle-I swear, I could punch a hole in the wall."

    "You''ve got no idea. I showed up at that party the other night, and the second those jerks saw me, they just started snickering. Nearly lost it right there."

    All the guys knew what had happened to Quentin; Hastings was no exception. He''de in with a sour mood himself, but Quentin''s misery actually brightened his spirits a little.

    "Oh, you think it''s funny?" Quentin shot Hastings a re, then turned to Theo. "Any news yet, Theo? The Glenwood family always has ears everywhere, but still nothing?"

    Theo''s gaze darkened as he dropped his eyes. "Nothing yet," he replied quietly. Quentin sighed, slumping back into the couch, looking utterly defeated. "Whoever this guy is, he''s got connections. Even you Glenwoods can''t dig up anything." Theo kept quiet, then turned to Hastings. "Look, Quentin''s got every right to be like this. But what''s up with you? You don''t even smoke, usually."

    He hesitated before asking, "Is it because of Kali?" Theo knew perfectly well both Hastings and Quentin had feelings for his sister.

    "No," Hastings shot back, a bit too quickly.

    But his mind was tangled up with that memory of Citrine tossing him the ne -he couldn''t shake the image, and it gnawed at him.

    He looked back at Theo and Quentin, suddenly sitting upright. "Ever have that happen? Meet someone, know they''re trouble, and yet you just want to get closer anyway?"

    Theo blinked in surprise. "Hastings, are you saying you''ve got a girl you like?"

    The prospect sent a surge of relief through Quentin. One less rival for Kali! His voice was almost gleeful: "Don''t even question it, man. You''ve totally fallen for her."

    Hastings pressed his lips together but didn''t deny it. Quentin''s words echoed in his head: "You''ve totally fallen for her."

    Just then, the door swung open and Kali strode in, ncing around before fixing a mock-shocked look on Hastings. "Hastings, who''s the lucky girl you''ve fallen for?¡±

 Chapter 347

    Kali had been standing right outside the door while they talked, and she caught every word.

    She blinked up at Hastings, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Hastings, I heard what you said. Come on, who is it you''ve fallen for? I want to know too."

    She''d heard it all-every word¡ªand she was certain that person wasn''t her.

    A sudden wave of panic washed over Kali. All these years, Hastings had always liked her. What had changed? Besides, he spent nearly all his time with their team, surrounded by a bunch of rowdy guys. When would he ever meet another girl? Kali just couldn''t imagine who he''d even have the chance to like.

    "She''s just a jerk, not worth talking about," Hastings muttered, pressing his lips together. He and Citrine had never gotten along, and he had no intention of telling Kali.

    Honestly, he wasn''t even sure he liked her in the way everyone assumed. He couldn''t quite put his feelings into words.

    That night, Kali''s mood crashed. She drank more than she should have.

    With the alcohol buzzing in her veins, she made a show of leaning toward Hastings, hoping to rest her head on his shoulder.

    It was such a simple gesture¡ªone she''d done a hundred times before. But this time, before her head even came close, Hastings jerked away as if she''d turned into a ghost.

    Kali froze in surprise.

    Across the table, Theo and Quentin had also gone still, staring in disbelief.

    "Hastings, what''s your problem?" Theo and Quentin shot him using looks.

    Hastings had always doted on Kali. Whenever they went out and Kali had a bit too much to drink, she''d end up leaning against him, or demanding a hug, and he''d never refused her-not once.

    No one saw thising, least of all Hastings himself. He had no idea why he''d reacted that way; it was pure reflex.

    Realizing he''d messed up, Hastings scrambled to exin, his words tumbling out. "I... I''m sorry, Kali. I just wasn''t expecting you to get so close all of a sudden."

    Kali''s heart dropped, but she forced a casual smile. "It''s fine, I shouldn''t have startled you like that."

    Once the others looked away, her smile faltered, her face stiffening until thest trace of cheer finally slipped away.

    For the rest of the night, Hastings sat in the farthest corner, putting as much distance between them as possible.

    Theo and Quentin took it upon themselves to sandwich Kali between them, cracking jokes and trying to lift her spirits.

    By the end of the night, Kali and Hastings had barely exchanged a word. The two of them, once inseparable, now seemed inexplicably distant.

    At first, Kali just felt a little down. But as the days passed and Hastings still didn''t reach out¡ªnot a single text, not even a quick check-in-her worry turned to panic.

    He used to message her every day, always making sure she was okay. A whole week went by with nothing.

    She couldn''t take it anymore. On Saturday, Kali marched straight to the Cooper house to find him.

    Hastings looked surprised when he saw her standing at the door. "Kali? What are you doing here?"

    Usually, he was the one visiting the Glenwood family; Kali almost never came to the Cooper house.

    Today, she''d gone all out-her hair styled, a pretty dress, wless makeup. She smiled sweetly. "Obviously, I came to see you."

    She pulled two movie tickets from her pocket and waved them in front of him. "I bought us tickets. Let''s go catch a film together."

    Hastings blinked in surprise. Getting Kali to agree to a movie used to be like pulling teeth, and now here she was, inviting him? He couldn''t help but grin, ruffling her hair. "Sure, why not?"

 Chapter 348

    Kali picked a romantic movie, hoping it would rekindle something between them. Throughout the film, she kept ¡°identally¡± brushing her hand against Hastings''s, but he didn''t even nce at her his eyes never left the screen.

    No matter what she did, it was useless. Frustration simmered in her chest.

    When the movie ended and Hastings offered to drive her home, Kali couldn''t hold

    it in any longer. She stopped in her tracks and looked up at him. "Hastings, do you... do you hate me now?"

    Her voice was trembling, on the verge of tears.

    Hastings paused, startled. "Of course not. I could never hate you."

    Kali''s eyes reddened as she stared at him, her voice small and wounded. "Then why do I feel like you''re pulling away from me? You hardly message me anymore, and you act like you don''t want me to touch you. Did I do something wrong?"

    For a moment, Hastings''s expression froze. Honestly, he didn''t even know why he''d been keeping his distance from Kali.

    They used to be so close.

    Seeing her standing there, eyes shining with unshed tears, he realized he was being unkind.

    He hesitated, then said softly, "I''m sorry, Kali. You didn''t do anything wrong. This is all on me."

    She looked at him, searching his face, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Is there someone else, Hastings? Is that why you''re pushing me away?"

    Her words hit him like a punch. Was it because of Citrine that he couldn''t bring himself to be near Kali anymore?

    He searched himself for an answer-but came up empty.

    "Hastings?" she called again when he didn''t reply, her voice thin with hope.

    He snapped out of it and looked at her with gentle firmness. "Kali, you''ve always been like a sister to me."

    The light in Kali''s eyes fadedpletely, leaving only disappointment behind.

    Lately, Hastings couldn''t get that woman''s face out of his mind.

    It was like he''d been put under some kind of spell.

    Even when he''d liked Kali, he''d never felt this way-never spent his days and nights thinking about someone to the point of obsession.

    This woman was dangerous.

    When he couldn''t see her, Hastings started following Citrine''s social media ounts online, scrolling through every update, piecing together little glimpses into her life. He discovered she''d been epted early to Crestwood University, yet still insisted on sitting the entrance exam¡ªand even more shocking, she''d aced it,ing in at the very top of her ss.

    He hadn''t realized just how brilliant she was.

    He felt like a thief, hiding in the shadows, stealing moments of happiness from her online presence.

    But it wasn''t enough.

    The next day, unable to resist any longer, Hastings went to Crestwood University. He wasn''t sure he''d see her, but he had to try his luck.

    Fortune was with him-he''d barely arrived when he spotted her.

    Citrine was busy hosting a delegation of foreign visitors, walking among a group of people with every shade of skin, speaking a dozen differentnguages. Hastings could only understand the English; everything else was lost on him.

    He watched as Citrine switched effortlessly betweennguages, handling the group with calm confidence. In that moment, she shone.

    He''d never imagined she was so gifted, and the realization caught him off guard.

    He sat quietly on a bench, watching her introduce Crestwood University''s highlights to the visitors. Only when she finished did he approach.

    He didn''t bother hiding his admiration. "Yournguage skills are impressive."

    Citrine gave him a sharp look, her words edged with a mocking smile. "What''s wrong? Finally realized you''re not even good enough to carry my bag?"

 Chapter 349

    Hastings didn''t seem the least bit annoyed.

    He looked at Citrine with a small smile. "How about we grab dinner together, Instructor Carmichael?"

    Citrine hesitated, about to refuse, when out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Kali standing not far behind Hastings.

    She let her lips curl into a slight smile and changed her mind on the spot.

    "Sounds great," she replied cheerfully.

    Hastings''s eyes lit up, genuine surprise flickering across his face. "Does this mean we''re calling it even?"

    "Of course." Citrine nodded, her expression pleasant even as she scoffed inwardly.

    Meanwhile, Kali watched the exchange, stunned. She''d always been able to twist Hastings around her little finger, but now, here he was-beaming at Citrine like an overexcited kid.

    The way Hastings looked at Citrine, there was no mistaking it: pure infatuation.

    Why her? Kali''s face twisted, her jealousy impossible to hide.

    If Hastings had fallen for someone else, maybe she could have stomached it. But Citrine? Of all people¡ªafter just a month of training?

    What did that conniving woman have that she didn''t? The thought made Kali clench her fists so tightly her nails bit into her palms. She wanted nothing more than to tear Citrine to pieces.

    By then, Hastings and Citrine had already arrived at the movie theater.

    Hastings had reserved the entire auditorium¡ªjust the two of them, no one else in sight.

    When Citrine entered and saw the empty rows of seats, she paused for a moment, then quickly understood.

    He''d booked out the whole ce. He really must be smitten, she thought with a wry amusement. So this was the depth of his feelings for Kali? Apparently, not quite as unshakable as she''d assumed.

    The theater was dimly lit, shadows blending into silence. But Citrine''s lips curled up in a faint, knowing smile.

    Originally, Hastings had nned to watch a horror movie-his favorite. But at thest minute, for reasons he couldn''t exin, he switched to a romantic film instead.

    As the movie began, both sat facing the giant screen. Citrine looked perfectly at ease, while Hastings, sitting beside her, seemed oddly tense.

    Citrine nced over, caught the stiffness in his posture, and chuckled. "Nervous?" ¡°Not at all,¡± Hastings replied quickly. "I''m totally rxed."

    He could deny it all he wanted, but the veins standing out on his hand gripping the armrest told a different story.

    Citrine just smiled, saying nothing.

    Hastings himself wasn''t sure what was wrong. He''d watched movies with Kali before and never felt anywhere near this wound up.

    It wasn''t until the film had been ying for a while that he finally began to rx.

    Citrine''s attention was fixed on the screen, but Hastings found himself stealing nces at her whenever he thought she wouldn''t notice.

    The only light came from the huge screen, painting shifting patterns across their faces.

    Hastings watched her profile,pletely entranced.

    Sensing his gaze, Citrine finally turned to look at him. "Why are you watching me instead of the movie?"

    "Is the movie boring, or is it...?"

    "Or is it what?" Hastings prompted.

    She met his eyes, her voice steady. "Or is it that I''m so good-looking, you''vepletely lost track of yourself?"

    Hastings had never met a woman like this before. Flustered, he looked away. "You''re awfully full of yourself."

    Citrine noticed the faint flush creeping up his ears and let out a quietugh.

    For all his tough exterior, he was just a bashful puppy underneath.

    She grinned at him, her tone sincere. "Am I wrong, though? Am I not good- looking?"

    Hastings stared at her, at a loss for words. Bad-looking was thest thing anyone could say about her.

    Her face was wless-so striking it was unforgettable.

    She was, hands down, the most beautiful woman he''d ever met.

    When Hastings still didn''t answer, Citrine''s expression shifted, her voice suddenly yful. "Or do you think Kali is prettier?"

    Hastings had no idea why she brought up Kali, but he wasn''t about to lie. He nced back at Citrine, a trace of helplessness in his eyes. "You''re more beautiful," he admitted quietly.

 Chapter 350

    The movie ended just as dinner time rolled around, and Hastings took Citrine to an upscale restaurant.

    After they ordered, their conversation drifted, light and sporadic.

    Finally, Hastings mustered the nerve to ask what he''d been dying to know. "So... do you have a boyfriend?"

    Without missing a beat, Citrine shook her head. "No."

    Hastings pressed carefully, "And what''s going on between you and Sebastian?"

    Citrine''s brow twitched, her tone t. "There''s nothing between us."

    She set her fork down and looked Hastings straight in the eye. "You seem awfully interested in Sebastian and me. Are you jealous?"

    Hastings scoffed, refusing to answer. "Sebastian''s trouble, you know. He''s got nothing to offer you."

    Citrine thought, Well, the ''trouble'' part''s true, but being broke isn''t exactly his problem.

    Still, she had no intention of exposing Sebastian in front of Hastings. Between the two, she disliked Hastings more anyway.

    Citrine''s smile faded a little as she met his gaze. "So Sebastian has nothing to offer me. And you do?"

    Hastings stared back at her, suddenly earnest. "How do you know I can''t?"

    "What I want doesn''te cheap."

    He grinned, confidence oozing from every word. "Trust me, money''s thest thing the Cooper family has to worry about." The Coopers were one of the wealthiest families in Crestwood, and Hastings couldn''t imagine anything in the world he couldn''t buy.

    Citrine just smiled and let it go.

    When she didn''t respond, Hastings didn''t push.

    Dinner finished, Hastings drove Citrine back to Verona Heights.

    But when they arrived, he didn''t unlock the doors right away. Instead, he turned to her and, with a hint of stubbornness, handed over his phone. "Add me."

    Citrine shot him a nce, took the phone, quickly searched for her number, and sent the friend request back. Then she handed the phone over. "Done."

    With her contact saved, Hastings couldn''t hide his good mood. He blurted, ¡°So, can I see you again?"

    Citrine hesitated, then shrugged. "Depends on my mood."

    Before he could say anything else, she slipped out of the car.

    Left alone, Hastings watched her walk away, torn between annoyance and amusement.

    That damn girl-she was sly as a fox.

    Back home that night, Hastings got a sudden urge and posted to his social feed.

    A shot of the movie screen and a tub of popcorn.

    Comments rolled in almost immediately.

    Quentin: Look at you! Didn''t think you''d actually pull it off¡ªalready got her, huh?

    Theo: When are you introducing her to the rest of us?

    ...

    Meanwhile, Citrine, fresh out of the shower, nced at her phone and caught Hastings'' post.

    She smirked at the screen, lips curling. "Clown."

    Just as she was about to set her phone down, a new friend request popped up.

    She checked the sender, saw the note, and her lips quirked into a smile before she epted.

    Not even a secondter, a message arrived.

    Kali: Citrine Carmichael, what did you do? Did you force Hastings to post that?

    Citrine lounged on the couch, typingzily: Take a guess.

    Kali: Seriously, what kind of spell did you cast to have Hastings wrapped around your finger in just a month?

    Citrine replied, unhurried: What, you want tips? Sorry, I don''t teach idiots.

    She lingered on the chat, noticing the little "typing..." notification on Kali''s end, and couldn''t help but click her tongue.

    Must beposing quite a string of curses.

 Chapter 351

    On the other side of town, Kali nearly lost it when she saw Citrine''stest

    message pop up on her phone.

    She was still trying toe up with the perfect insult for that conniving witch when another message arrived.

    Citrine Carmichael: He said I''m prettier than you.

    Kali''s rage spiked. She muttered under her breath, "That little tramp."

    She furiously typed back: Don''t get cocky. Hastings is just bored and toying with you.

    No sooner had she hit send than her phone chimed again.

    Citrine: He said I''m prettier than you.

    Kali was about ready to throw her phone across the room. "Shut up! You really think you''re good enough for Hastings?"

    Citrine: I could run circles around him and still be out of his league. Besides, he said I''m prettier than you.

    Slippery little vixen, Kali thought, fuming. All she''s got is that sly, seductive face- what''s she so proud of?

    Her patience finally snapped. Kali hurled her phone onto the couch, seething.

    Meanwhile, Citrine was loungingfortably, snacking on fresh fruit and watching her favorite show,pletely unbothered by Kali''s messages.

    A whileter, her phone buzzed again.

    Hastings: Are you asleep?

    Hastings: When can I see you again?

    Citrine nced at the screen, barely interested, and switched off her phone before popping another piece of fruit into her mouth.

    On the other end, Hastings sat staring at his phone, waiting for a reply that never came. An hour passed. Still nothing.

    He fired off a few more messages.

    Hastings: What are you doing? Why aren''t you answering me?

    Hastings: Answer me. Right now.

    No response. It was like sending messages into a void.

    Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Hastings tried to video call her.

    She declined the call within seconds.

    He tried again, only to be rejected just as quickly.

    But then his phone finally buzzed. Hastings thought maybe she was ready to exin herself, but when he opened the message, it was just these blunt words: Bug me again and you''re blocked.

    Hastings nearly exploded, but forced himself to reply calmly: Okay, I won''t bother you.

    Ever since the Iverson family''s downfall, life in Havencrest had only gotten harder. Sawyer and his son couldn''t even find work.

    With no other options, Sawyer sold their house in Havencrest and bought a small ce in Crestwood.

    Not wanting to be a burden, Clifford volunteered to live in the school dorms.

    After discussing it together, Sawyer and Norton decided to look for jobs in Crestwood.

    But Crestwood was full of talent, and after several days, both men had been rejected from every job they tried for.

    Under mounting financial pressure, Norton decided to take on some part-time work.

    There were plenty of odd jobs in Crestwood, and Norton soon found one- handing out flyers and signing up customers at arge, upscale swimming club. The job wasmission-based, and every new client earned him a bonus.

    Norton had spent years working for the Iverson Group, so he knew how to talk people into things. On his very first day, he managed to bring in several new customers.

    The club was huge and expensive, which meant themissions were generous.

    By the end of the month, Norton had earned over ten thousand dors just frommissions alone.

    The owner was impressed and started considering him for a manager position.

    Norton was thrilled when he found out. But the day before he was due to start, the owner suddenly called him into the office.

    Norton had no idea what was going on. He smiled at his boss and asked, "Is something wrong, sir?"

    The owner shook his head regretfully. "I''m sorry, Norton. It''s not that I don''t want to promote you, but you''ve upset someone you really shouldn''t have. There''s nothing I can do."

    "I can''t keep you on. Please pack your things and leave today."

    Norton''s smile faded. He looked at the owner, confused. "Why? Did someone threaten you?"

    The Iversons had never made enemies in Crestwood. He couldn''t imagine who would want to get rid of him.

    The owner sighed heavily. "Norton, don''t ask. Whoever it is-you wouldn''t want to cross them."

    Sawyer pressed his lips together, but stood his ground. "Please, just tell me, sir. If I have to leave, I want to know why."

 Chapter 352

    The manager sighed, clearly at his wit''s end, and finally told the truth.

    "It''s Jete-Dick''s daughter, you know, one of the richest men in Crestwood. Her school''s right next to our pool, and shees by here to swim whenever she''s free. She saw you the other day, then came to me in private and told me to fire you for whatever reason I coulde up with. Said if I didn''t, she''d make sure I couldn''t keep my business running in Crestwood."

    "Jete?" Norton suddenly spoke up.

    The manager''s eyes lit up as he nodded. "Exactly. That''s the one-Jete."

    He looked at Norton with a helpless smile. "Norton, I swear, I didn''t want to let you go. But Dick''s girl is impossible to deal with. She threatened to ruin me if I didn''t fire you. I have a family to support. I really had no choice."

    "I get it," Norton replied, looking utterly defeated.

    He couldn''t reconcile the arrogant girl the manager described with the sweet, obedient sister he remembered. In his memories, Jete had always been kind- hearted. He couldn''t understand how she''d changed so much.

    After leaving the pool, Norton didn''t go home. Instead, he waited outside the gates of Crestwood University School of the Arts. He needed to get answers tonight-he had to know why Jete had done this to him.

    He was her brother, after all. He''d always treated her well, ever since they were kids.

    That evening, Jete came out of the school with a group of friends, all of themughing and ready to hit the club. They ran right into Norton, who was standing by the entrance, waiting for her.

    He called out loudly, "Jete!"

    The group stopped in their tracks.

    A couple of them recognized him. One of the guys strode over and grabbed

    Norton roughly by the cor. "You again? Are you kidding me?"

    Norton''s mood was already shot after losing his job, and now he was in no mood for this. He shoved the guy''s hand away and said coldly, "Get lost."

    The man''s temper red. "Oh, tough guy, huh? Maybe I ought to teach you a lesson."

    Jete stepped in immediately.

    She waved her friends off. "You guys go ahead. He''s just the son of our family''s driver¡ªalways hanging around me. Let me deal with him. I''ll catch up with youter, drinks are on me tonight."

    Her friend hesitated. "You sure you don''t want me to rough him up a little, Jete?"

    She shook her head dismissively. "No, just go."

    As her friends left, Norton fixed Jete with a cold stare, his voice edged with sarcasm. ¡°The driver''s son? Funny, I don''t remember ever being your family''s driver''s kid."

    Jete''s expression was one of pure disdain. Her tone was icy. "What, you''d rather I say you''re my brother? Please. Look at you-you''ve got nothing. If people knew you were rted to me, it''d be humiliating."

    Norton almostughed in disbelief. "Humiliating? You think I''m an embarrassment to you?"

    Jete rolled her eyes, her impatience obvious. "Aren''t you?"

    Suddenly, Norton just felt tired. He didn''t want to argue anymore.

    He cut to the chase. "Why did you tell the pool manager to fire me?"

    Jete looked away, feigning ignorance. "What pool?"

    Norton didn''t buy it for a second. ¡°Don''t y dumb. You always avert your eyes when you lie."

    Realizing she''d been caught, Jete dropped the act. "Fine, it was me."

    She shrugged, looking at Norton with open contempt. Her words were sharp as knives.

    "I swim there with my friends, and every time I see you outside handing out flyers, it''s mortifying. Because of you, every time I go, I have to wear a hat and a mask."

    "Norton, your whole family is like a bad penny-I just can''t get rid of you."

    "Don''t you get it? We''re not the same anymore. I don''t ever want to see you again."

 Chapter 353

    Norton stared at his sister in disbelief, anger ring for the first time in his life.

    "Jete, after all these years, what has the Iverson family ever done to wrong you? We treated you like a princess-isn''t that enough?"

    His voice shook with frustration. "Now that the family''s lost everything, you suddenly look down on us. How could you be so shallow and vain?"

    He spoke through clenched teeth. "Clifford was right. You really are ungrateful."

    The Iverson Group had gone under; the family held no value for Jete anymore.

    Now, with Norton''s finger pointed in her face and his words ringing out, Jete had no intention of holding back.

    She red at him, her tone sharp and mocking. "Well, whose fault is it that you''re broke now? I''m embarrassed just to be associated with you. If you think I''m so ungrateful, why don''t you go beg Citrine toe back? She actually cared about you all-look where that got her. In the end, she cut all ties with the Iversons anyway."

    Norton''s expression faltered. He looked at Jete, searching her face. "What are you trying to say?"

    Jete snorted. "Honestly, Norton, you''re the ungrateful one here, not me. If I remember right, it was Citrine who brought you home from that orphanage. Without her, who knows if you and your brother would even be alive today? And how did you repay her?"

    She gave a bitterugh. "Clifford led the kids at school to bully her. You never trusted her either-you used her, med her for everything. Some big brothers you two turned out to be."

    "Only a fool like Citrine wouldn''t me you. If it were me, I''d have hated you enough to want you dead."

    Norton''s mind was spinning, fragments of the past shing through his head¡ª Clifford''s usations, Jete''s words. He stared at her, shaken.

    He finally found his voice. "So why did you always target Citrine? She was the one who donated blood to save Clifford, she took care of him when he was sick, she gave him gifts. Why did you lie to everyone and say you did all that?"

    Jete smiled, unrepentant. ¡°Because I wanted everyone to like me. I wanted to be the only daughter, the sole heiress of the Iverson family."

    "I wanted to take everything from Citrine. I wanted the Iversons to be mine, all mine."

    For so long, Norton had believed that Jete was just too young to cope with the family''s downfall. Only now did he see the truth-she had been rotten at the core all along. The sweet, innocent act was just a mask for their benefit, and the three men of the Iverson family had been blind enough to fall for it.

    "Jete, you were born cruel," Norton said coldly, his eyes empty of brotherly affection, filled only with disgust.

    Jete let out augh, sharp and unkind. "If I''m born cruel, then you''re even worse."

    "Norton, remember when you med Citrine for making you miss those important exams? To get back at her, you snuck her out and left her alone on the street. She almost got kidnapped because of you."

    "Or when you thought she put flowers in your room to trigger your allergies? You slippedxatives into her milk. She got so sick she almost ended up in the ICU."

    "And the time you were swimming and nearly drowned? You thought Citrine abandoned you, soter, when she fell in the pool and was struggling, you just watched from the corner, letting her fight for her life."

    Jete''s smile widened. "You''re far worse than I''ll ever be, Norton."

    His eyes went wide with shock. "How did you know?" he whispered. These had been the darkest secrets of his heart-things he''d never told a soul.

 Chapter 354

    Jete let out a coldugh. "It''s not just me-Citrine knows everything too."

    She paused to collect her thoughts before continuing. "To be precise, Citrine has always known what you did. I only found out after she left the Iverson family, when I went through her oldptop and saw those surveince videos. Norton, what you did was far more vicious than anything I''ve done."

    Norton stayed silent, so Jete pressed on, her tone almost casual. "Let me be honest with you. I was the one who locked you in that room. I''m the reason you missed your entrance exams. And when you fell into theke, it was Citrine who ran to get help for you. I just took credit for what she did."

    As her words sank in, Norton felt his heart plummet. Pain twisted across his face, and he clutched his head, barely able to breathe.

    Oh God. All these years-what had he done to Citrine? Time and again, he''d nearly gotten her killed.

    What shattered him even more was the realization that Citrine had always known about the things he''d done in secret. She''d known everything.

    She was just a kid back then¡ªa little girl who found out her own brother had tried

    to hurt her, over and over. She must have been devastated.

    Norton squeezed his eyes shut, his face contorted in misery.

    Suddenly, rage red in him. He red at Jete, then marched over and pped her hard across the face. The sound cracked through the room.

    "Jete, how could you be so cruel? If it weren''t for you, we never would have med Citrine for any of this!"

    The blow sent Jete''s head snapping to the side, a vivid handprint blooming on her cheek. She stared at Norton in disbelief. "You dare hit me?"

    "You deserved it," he spat, his voice trembling with anger. "After everything you''ve done-you''re the one who drove Citrine away. If not for you, she''d still be part of this family."

    Norton''s eyes burned red as he red at her, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.

    Jete almostughed, incredulous. "You Iversons are something else. The real culprit here is you all of you."

    She gave a harsh snort. ¡°Didn''t Citrine try to exin? Did any of you listen?" Norton''s pupils contracted. Memories flooded in, sharp and cold.

    He remembered little Citrine, clinging to his legs, sobbing so hard she could barely speak-yet still desperately trying to exin.

    "Please, big brother, you have to believe me. I didn''t lock you in that room."

    "Big brother, it was Jete! She put the flowers in your room-it wasn''t me."

    "Big brother, I was the one who got help when you fell in the water, not Jete. She''s lying."

    But what had he done back then? Norton could still recall his own cold stare, the disgust in his eyes as he looked down at her.

    He could hear his own cruel voice: "Citrine Iverson, why do you always lie? It''s bad enough you lie, but now you''re trying to me Jete? What''s wrong with you?"

    "If you won''t admit what you did, you''re not getting dinner tonight."

    "You''re nothing but a liar. No wonder no one likes you. You''ll never be as good as Jete."

    Citrine had tried to exin, again and again. He was the one who refused to listen.

    Jete was right. The real reason Citrine left-the real viin-wasn''t her. It was them.

    Jete, sensing his turmoil, twisted the knife. "There were surveince videos on Citrine''sptop. She had proof. Do you know why she never showed you?"

    She looked at him, smug and unruffled. "Because she knew you wouldn''t trust her. Even if she had evidence, you wouldn''t have bothered to look."

    How desperate must someone be, to have proof and not even dare to show it? Norton''s fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white. His face was ashen. In that moment, he hated himself more than anyone else in the world.

 Chapter 355

    "Norton, Citrine is such a fool. All she wants is the Iversons'' approval. But I''m not like her. I only care about money and status."

    "I''ve made myself clear. I''m Dick''s daughter now, I have nothing to do with Sawyer anymore. So don''t ever let any of the Iversonse looking for me again¡ªI don''t want my ssmates to see me hanging around with paupers.¡±

    With that, Jete turned away from Norton, her heels clicking sharply as she strode to a convertible parked by the curb.

    Norton stood frozen at the entrance of the art college, utterly lost, his whole body shaking. He''d failed Citrine-he really was nothing but an ungrateful traitor.

    People streamed in and out of the campus, giving him a wide berth. Some passersby cast wary nces, thinking he might be unstable.

    Finally, someone couldn''t stand to watch any longer. A middle-aged man approached him, concern etched on his face. "Sir, are you alright? Do you need me to call an ambnce?"

    Norton''s face turned icy. He red up at the man and snapped, "I''m not sick. Get lost."

    The man jerked back in fright, nearly stumbling over his own feet. Regaining his bnce, he jabbed a finger at Norton and cursed, "Some nerve you''ve got. I was only trying to help since you looked like you were having a breakdown. What''s with the attitude?"

    Norton''s eyes were bloodshot, and he''d lost allposure. "Leave. Me. Alone."

    "Lunatic,¡± the man muttered, backing away quickly, deciding not to provoke him any further.

    Monday morning, Norton arrived at Crestwood University.

    As the country''s top university, Crestwood weed thousands of visitors every day. Security was tight, with guard booths stationed all around campus. Visitors only needed to state their purpose and, once approved, they could enter.

    Norton hadn''t made it into Crestwood back when he applied; he''d gone to Havencrest University instead.

    Standing here now, he felt his sister''s achievements even more keenly. He was truly proud of her.

    Norton wandered alone through Crestwood''s grounds, taking in everything around him. At first, it was just a casual tour-until he spotted a photo of Citrine pinned to a campus bulletin board.

    A caption read: ¡°Citrine, freshman in the School of Medicine, named Outstanding Cadet during orientation training."

    The girl in the picture had shed thest traces of baby fat, blossoming into a confident young woman-she hardly resembled the little sister he remembered.

    Norton stared hungrily at her photo, then took out his phone to save this image of her growing up, capturing it forever.

    He spent the rest of the morning wandering through galleries and quiet corners, searching for more traces of Citrine.

    He was in luck. Citrine was well-known on campus, her name and aplishments featured all over-she''dpeted in events, joined clubs, left her mark everywhere. Every time Norton found a mention of her, he snapped a photo, hoarding every piece of her story.

    While he was photographing another disy, someone tapped him gently on the shoulder.

    Norton turned around slowly to find a girl in a id blouse standing behind him. "Can I help you?" he asked, still a little dazed.

    She pointed to his phone. "Were you just taking pictures of Citrine?"

    Norton''s eyes brightened, surprised she knew the name. "Do you know her?" She nodded. "Yeah, she''s my roommate."

    Realizing there was a possible connection, the girl asked, "So, do you know Citrine too?"

    Hearing she was Citrine''s roommate, Norton''s tone softened. "Yes, she''s my sister."

    The girl-Lisa-remembered meeting Citrine''s brother once, and he didn''t look like this. But Citrine had never said how many brothers she had, so Lisa shrugged it off. "You''re here to see Citrine, right? Want me to take you to her?"

 Chapter 356

    "Is that okay?" Norton''s voice trembled with excitement.

    "Of course," Lisa replied with a grin. "You''re Citrine''s brother, after all."

    With that, Lisa led Norton downstairs to the dorm building.

    "Wait here, Citrine''s brother. I''ll go get her," she said, then hurried upstairs to deliver the news.

    Citrine assumed it was Travis waiting for her. She hadn''t seen Travis in a while, and, truth be told, she missed her silly older brother.

    She threw on the first sweater she could find and practically skipped down the hallway, calling out before she''d even left the dorm, "Brother Travis!"

    Her voice was sweet as honey.

    Norton froze.

    How many times had Citrine called him just like that? No matter how badly he''d treated her growing up, she''d always chased after him, calling, "Brother Norton!"

    But now, the name on her lips had changed-Brother Travis.

    He saw the same look of trust and affection on her face, and it felt like someone had reached into his chest and twisted his heart until it bled.

    Of course she thought Travis was waiting. These days, Travis was the only brother in her world. If she''d known it was Norton, she wouldn''t havee down at all.

    Citrine nced around, confusion flickering across her face when she didn''t see Travis. That''s when her eyesnded on Norton.

    "You?" Her brows knit together in a frown.

    So Lisa had mixed things up.

    Norton stood awkwardly, unsure how to face her. He pressed his lips together before speaking. "Citrine, I came to apologize."

    What was wrong with the Iverson family? First Clifford showed up begging forgiveness, now Norton too. Had they all lost their minds?

    Citrine could hardly believe it.

    When she didn''t answer, Norton''s expression grew pained. ¡°Citrine, I know everything now. I was wrong to use you. It was all my fault."

    Citrine''s frown deepened. "You''re not my brother. I have only one brother- Travis."

    She straightened, her voice cold. "And as for your apology, I don''t ept it. I will never forgive you."

    Norton knew he''d gone too far. He didn''t expect her forgiveness¡ªhe couldn''t even look her in the eye.

    He asked quietly, "Do you... hate me that much?"

    Citrine nodded, a wild glint in her eyes. "Hate you? Of course I do. I wish you were dead."

    Norton flinched at her words. He''d expected her to resent him, but not to wish him dead.

    "I''m sorry, Citrine. I''ll do whatever I can to make it up to you." He spoke softly, as if afraid to shatter the fragile moment. He didn''t dare hope for her absolution; he was ashamed even to stand before her.

    Citrine let out a bitterugh. "What, you want to destroy me and then patch me up again? You''ve always been ridiculous, Norton."

    She looked him straight in the eye. "You know what my biggest regret is?"

    Norton shook his head, utterly lost. "What?"

    A cold smile curved her lips. "That I didn''t leave you and your brother to rot in that

    orphanage. I should never have brought you into the Iverson family."

    Norton stood utterly stunned, her words cutting deeper than anything he''d imagined.

    His throat tightened as he struggled to speak. "You really wish I were dead?"

    She smiled, bright and cruel. "Absolutely."

    "If only you and your brother were both dead, that would be perfect."

 Chapter 357

    Ever since *Innocent* became a runaway hit, Amelia had skyrocketed to the ranks of A-list actresses-her debut was nothing short of a peak.

    Some entertainment blogs imed *Innocent* would be both her beginning and her end. After all, an actor''s time in the spotlight is fleeting, and most will nevere across a script as good as *Innocent* in their entire careers.

    The same was said for the author. Just because a writer had one sensational novel didn''t mean every book would catch fire. A masterpiece like *Innocent* was lightning in a bottle-even the same author would struggle to replicate that magic twice.

    And yet, just as the buzz was fading, Obsidian released another novel-this time dropping the entire story online at once.

    After *Innocent*''s wild sess, Obsidian''s fanbase had swelled by millions. So, when her new book appeared, it instantly made waves. In less than a month, *Ephemeral Elegance* shot to the top of the site''s charts, outpacing even the heat of *Innocent*.

    CICI Media Co. snapped up the rights. Before production dates were even set, they announced online that Amelia would be cast as the female lead, with the male lead still undecided.

    Citrine never told Amelia about the decision. Amelia only found out when she saw thepany''s official statement-she''d been hand-picked for the role.

    As soon as she saw the news, she called Citrine.

    "Citrine, was it you who gave me the lead?" Amelia''s voice trembled with excitement.

    "So? Another role lined up for you. Happy?" Citrine''s voice on the other end was warm,ced with gentle affection.

    Amelia was overwhelmed. "Citrine, you''re just too good to me. Aren''t you worried I''ll mess up and tarnish your reputation?" Her voice grew smaller with every word.

    She knew she had no powerful family or industry connections. Without Citrine paving the way, she''d never have made it this far. And maybe because of that, she always worried about letting Citrine down-Citrine, who was so aplished, so brilliant.

    Citrine''s reply was crisp and clear: "Amy, I believe in myself¡ªand I believe in you. Besides, I wrote this novel just for you. The lead was always meant to be yours." Amelia''s eyes stung. Except for Citrine, no one had ever treated her so kindly. Her voice wavered. "Thank you, Citrine."

    Once *Ephemeral Elegance* had its release date, filming started soon after.

    Since the story was a fantasy, the director chose Crestwood as the filming location for its scenic backdrops.

    On the first day of shooting, Citrine made a special trip to visit the set.

    She''d counted the cast and crew ahead of time and brought enough pastries and drinks for everyone, plus a stash of small gifts. She arrived with her car packed to the brim-it was quite the spectacle.

    Citrine had the car parked by the entrance and called out cheerfully, "Everyone,e on out! There''s something for each of you."

    The crew''s eyes lit up as soon as they saw Citrine. "Whoa, Obsidian''s here! My idol''s actually here!"

    "She spoils us so much-work suddenly doesn''t feel so tough today."

    "She''s the best. Always looking out for us struggling workers."

    "I swear, I love Obsidian. She just gets us. These cupcakes and iced coffees are exactly what we needed."

    "Wish I were Amelia. Must be nice having a friend who writes bestsellers."

    "You have no idea¡ªI could watch their friendship for hours and never get tired of it."

    The whole crew was happier to see Citrine than they were on payday.

 Chapter 358

    Citrine beamed at the group, her eyes crinkling with warmth. "You''ve all had my treats and epted my gifts. While I''m away, I''m counting on you to take good care of Amy for me."

    The crew responded with cheerfulughter. "Of course! You can count on us."

    Someone called out, "Once filming starts, I''ll happily be Amy''s personal assistant -she''ll be in good hands!"

    The set was alive with camaraderie andughter.

    Most of the crew were veterans from the filming of *Innocent*, so nearly everyone knew Citrine. But the cast of this new production hadn''t yet realized who she really was.

    One of the new actresses, noticing how respectfully the director treated Citrine, whispered to a crew member, "Who is she? Why does everyone act like they''re old friends?"

    The crew member grinned. "You haven''t heard? That''s Obsidian-she''s a friend of our leadingdy, Amelia."

    The actress''s eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait, that''s Obsidian? She''s so young- and gorgeous!"

    With a face like that, she thought, Obsidian could easily outshine any star in the business. She could have made it on looks alone, but instead, her reputation was built on pure talent.

    Seeing the actress''s amazement, the crew member pped her on the shoulder. "Trust me, I was even more shocked when I found out."

    She gazed at Citrine with open envy. "I''d kill for a friendship like Obsidian and Amelia''s. Obsidian became famous, and her first project starred Amelia as the lead. Now she''s written a new show, and again, the role was tailored just for Amelia. It''s straight out of a fairy tale¡ªI can''t help but be jealous."

    The actress listened, awestruck and a little wistful.

    She pulled out her phone and began typing a message to her best friend, eager to share the story of Amelia and Citrine.

    *Bestie, you need to start writing novels. When you hit it big, promise me you''ll cast me as your leadingdy, okay?*

    The reply came back almost instantly: *You must be out of your mind!*

    The actress sighed. *Life is unfair.*

    Her friend shot back: *Don''t be upset.*

    *But I am,* she texted.

    *Don''t be,* came the reply.

    She stared at the screen, exasperated. *You''re impossible!*

    Citrine''s true identity wasn''t exactly a secret on set, and it didn''t take long before word spread.

    Plenty of young up-anders tried to cozy up to her, hoping to make a connection. Citrine, however, was immune to ttery and kept her distance.

    Everyone had epted Citrine''s desserts, drinks, and little gifts-everyone except for a girl sitting alone in the corner.

    She sat with her head bowed, asionally peeking at Citrine from across the

    room.

    Alicia Chase had gotten into a decent university and majored in drama. She hadn''t seen Citrine since the entrance exams and never expected to run into her here, on a film set.

    The biggest shock was discovering that Citrine was Obsidian. Suddenly, all the things that hadn''t made sense clicked into ce.

    With a background like Amelia''s-no family connections, no resources-how could she have broken into the industry? And with her in looks, how did shend leading roles?

    Now it was clear: Citrine had paved the way for her,ying out a rainbow-colored path.

    *Innocent* had been a massive hit, and *Ephemeral Elegance* was already generating even more buzz. It was only a matter of time before it exploded in poprity.

    When filming wrapped, Amelia''s ce in the industry would be unshakable. She would have truly debuted at the very top.

 Chapter 359

    Who did Amelia think she was, anyway? What right did she have to stand beside Citrine? She didn''t deserve it-not even close.

    Citrine was everything: talented, brilliant, almost untouchable. And Amelia? She was nothing¡ªa nobody who needed Citrine for everything.

    From the shadowy corner of the room, Alicia red daggers at Amelia, her gaze sharp and venomous, as if she might leap forward and tear her apart at any moment.

    Citrine had made a special trip to the set today, just to check on Amelia. While Amelia filmed her scenes, Citrine watched from the sidelines, her attention unwavering, her smile appearing now and then.

    Alicia drank in the scene from her hiding ce, watching like a rat lurking in the sewers, desperate for a glimpse of Citrine but too scared to show her face.

    The role Alicia had managed tond in this production was a small one-a minor supporting part, barely any lines in the early episodes. She''d nned to leave set today, but the moment she saw Citrine, she changed her mind.

    It had been a long time since shest saw her. Ever since Citrine had rescued her on the set of Siren''s Whisper, Alicia couldn''t stop dreaming about their childhood together.

    Back then, they''d been each other''s closest friends.

    Now, it seemed Citrine''s best friend was Amelia-that useless nobody.

    A few dayster, disaster struck the set.

    Amelia was filming a wire stunt, suspended high above the stage, when suddenly the cable snapped. She plummeted straight down.

    The crew rushed her to the hospital.

    As soon as Citrine heard, she dropped everything at school and sped to the ER.

    Half an hourter, the doctor emerged and finally put her at ease-Amelia had only suffered a minor fracture.

    Standing outside the ward, Citrine turned to the crew member who had apanied Amelia. "How did this happen? Amy was fine-why did she fall?"

    "It was the safety cable. It just snapped," the woman answered, looking stricken. "I''m so sorry, Obsidian," she added, using Citrine''s set nickname. ¡°I promised I''d look after Amelia, but I let you both down. I just-I don''t even know how to face you right now."

    "This isn''t your fault," Citrine replied, confusion flickering across her face.

    She reached out, squeezing the woman''s shoulder tofort her. "You did your best. Don''t me yourself."

    The woman nodded, visibly calmer, then took a breath and began to retrace her steps. "Obsidian, I was in charge of checking the cables that day. I swear, I double-checked everything. There was nothing wrong with the wire. I have no idea how this happened."

    By the end of her exnation, she sounded defeated.

    "I doubt this was an ident," Citrine said quietly, a shadow crossing her eyes.

    She hadn''t been on set, but she knew just how seriously this production took safety. Every prop, every rig, was checked and rechecked before any actor ever set foot on stage.

    With that in mind, Citrine immediately asked someone to bring her aptop. Within moments, she was sitting at Amelia''s hospital bedside, hacking into the studio''s security footage with practiced ease.

    The staff member watched in astonishment. "Obsidian, you''re a hacker, too?"

    Citrine shot her a nce. "Just a hobby."

    She pulled up the surveince video.

    The feed from the day before the ident looked normal; nothing out of ce. But then, just before Amelia''s wire stunt, the camera caught a girl in a hoodie slipping onto the empty set during the lunch break. She nced around to make sure no one was watching, then quickly pulled a razor de from her pocket and made several careful cuts on the cable.

 Chapter 360

    Citrine''s face hardened, her expression growing stormy.

    One of the crew members frowned in concern, staring at the monitor for a long moment before recognition finally dawned. She grew visibly agitated. "Obsidian, that woman¡ªshe''s one of our actresses. She ys the fourth female lead. Her name''s Alicia."

    Citrine''s eyes darkened. "Alicia?"

    The crew member nodded quickly. "Yes, that''s her."

    She hurriedly pulled up a photo on her phone and handed it to Citrine. "Here, this is the girl I''m talking about."

    Citrine needed only a nce to confirm it-Alicia was her old ssmate from high school.

    She turned to the crew member. "Can you watch Amy for me? I need to go see the production team."

    The crew member didn''t know what Citrine was nning, but nodded without hesitation. "Of course, Obsidian. I''ll take care of her."

    Leaving the hospital, Citrine drove straight to the upscale hotel where the crew was staying.

    Once she found out Alicia''s room number, she went directly to the door and rang the bell.

    Inside, Alicia was stretched out on the bed, enjoying her beauty routine. She was surprised by the bell, but assuming it was just room service, she thought nothing of it and went to answer the door.

    She had barely turned the handle when a sharp pnded across her cheek, knocking her face mask to the floor. Dazed, she barely registered what had happened.

    "Are you insane?" Alicia snapped, clutching her stinging cheek, ready tosh out ¡ªuntil she saw who was standing there. She froze, her anger fizzling into shock.

    "Citrine? What are you doing here?" Alicia''s voice was suddenly tentative.

    Citrine fixed her with a cold, steely re. "Why did you do it?"

    In Citrine''s memory, Alicia had always been kind when they were kids. Even though she''d grown selfish with age, she''d never seemed cruel.

    "So you figured it out." Alicia let out a bitterugh. She''d always known how smart Citrine was; it didn''t surprise her to be caught.

    Suddenly, the meaning of that p dawned on her. She looked at Citrine, disbelief flooding her face. "You pped me¡ªfor Amelia?"

    Citrine didn''t respond. Her silence said everything.

    She only cared about one thing. "Amelia never did anything to you. Why would you hurt her?"

    At the mention of Amelia, Alicia''s expression twisted, her voice rising. "Never did anything to me? She stole my best friend, Citrine! You and I¡ªwe grew up together. Amelia''s the outsider here, the one who came between us. She took you away from me!"

    "You''re brilliant, and she''s nothing. She''s not worthy of you."

    Citrine''s reply was cold and sharp. "She''s more than worthy. You''re the one who''s not."

    "Alicia, we stopped being friends a long time ago." Disgust dripped from Citrine''s words.

    She almostughed at the absurdity. "And weren''t you the one who walked away from our friendship first?"

    Alicia''s face went pale, her eyes desperate, unhinged. "But I regret it. I have nothing left, Citrine. I can''t lose you, too. You''re all I have."

    Citrine looked at her with nothing but disdain. "Amelia is my friend now. And let me

    warn you-if anything happens to her, I won''t let it go."

    Her voice was cold as ice. "And just so you know, I''ve already called the police."

 Chapter 361

    That year, when Alicia was only five, a group of boys cornered her at the school gates and took everything of value she had.

    Terrified, little Alicia burst into tears, sobbing uncontrobly.

    From across the yard, young Citrine caught sight of what was happening and shouted, "Alicia!"

    Without a second thought, she dropped her backpack and charged straight at the boys.

    "Don''t you dare touch her!" Citrine hurled herself at one of them, sinking her teeth into his ear with a fierceness that was wild and wolfish.

    The boy screamed, his face twisted in pain. "Let go of me, you brat!"

    "No!" Citrine refused, clinging on with all her might.

    The boy grimaced and yelled to his friends, "Come on, help me out!"

    The others rushed at Citrine, and soon she and the boys were tangled in a chaotic scuffle. In the end, Citrine was left battered and bruised, her face swollen and streaked with tears. But the boys didn''t escape unscathed-frightened by her ferocity, they ran home crying for their parents.

    When they were gone, Citrine ran to Alicia''s side.

    Ignoring the pain on her face, Citrine forced a brave smile. "Alicia, don''t be scared. As long as I''m here, I won''t let anyone hurt you."

    Now, at eighteen, Citrine had be cold and distant, but in that moment, the memory of the fearless little girl who once risked everything to save her from danger merged with the woman standing in front of Alicia.

    Alicia gazed at her, a tear slipping down her cheek.

    With sadness and guilt in her eyes, she apologized again, her voice trembling. "Citrine, I''m sorry."

    Citrine just stared at her, silent.

    Alicia knew she wouldn''t get a response. She didn''t take offense-she simply smiled, a bitter, rueful smile.

    When the police arrived, it finally hit her just how determined Citrine was to cut her out of her life.

    She knew then-Citrine would never forgive her. But Alicia couldn''t me her; after all, she''d brought this on herself.

    Mistakes have consequences.

    Amelia''s injuries were minor-ssified as superficial by the doctors-so Alicia only had to spend a week in custody.

    A weekter, when Alicia was released, she didn''t return to school. Instead, she learned where the Iverson family lived in Crestwood and made her way there.

    It was Saturday, and both Sawyer and his brothers were home.

    When Sawyer opened the door and saw Alicia, he froze in surprise. "Alicia? What are you doing here?"

    The Chases and the Iversons used to work together, and since Alicia and Citrine had been close as children, their families often visited one another. But after both families went bankrupt, they''d lost touch. So seeing Alicia now was unexpected.

    Still, Sawyer quickly ushered her in. "Come in."

    Inside, Clifford and Norton were on the sofa-one studying, the other busy with work. They each nodded politely at Alicia as she entered.

    Alicia sat down and gave the brothers a nod in return.

    Then she turned to Sawyer and spoke first. "Mr. Iverson, I came today because there''s something I need to tell you."

    A strange sense of relief washed over her, knowing she was finally about to say it. "What is it?" Sawyer asked, puzzled.

    Alicia pressed her lips together, gathering her courage. "Mr. Iverson, I''m sorry. I lied back then. Citrine told the truth."

    At the mention of Citrine''s name, Sawyer and his brothers all looked at Alicia, confusion written across their faces. "What lie? Alicia, what are you talking about?"

    Alicia closed her eyes tightly, then repeated, "That fire all those years ago-it wasn''t Citrine who started it. It was Jete. She wanted to kill both me and Citrine. In the end, Citrine risked her life to carry me out of the burning house." Sawyer''s eyes went wide. "What?"

    He couldn''t believe it. He pressed her again, "But when we asked you back then, you said Citrine started the fire. Didn''t you?"

 Chapter 362

    He''d even sent Citrine overseas because of this.

    The Iverson brothers were both staring intently at Alicia, waiting for her to speak.

    Thinking back to what had happened, Alicia''s face twisted with pain. It took all her strength to get the words out. "I lied. Back then, everyone knew Jete was the Iversons'' real daughter, and Citrine was adopted. No one in the family really cared about her. Aline and my parents had already made up their minds together."

    She let out a heavy sigh. "It was my mom and dad who forced me to point the finger at Citrine."

    "Citrine lost her hearing in her left ear because she was trying to save me. Even though I was in aa, I wasn''tpletely out of it¡ªI remember everything." Sawyer and the Iverson brothers sat stiffly on the sofa, their faces hard as stone. "Are you telling the truth?" Sawyer''s eyes were red-rimmed as he spoke. Alicia nodded. "It''s true. If you don''t believe me, you can ask my parents."

    The three Iversons looked absolutely stricken.

    "Then why didn''t you say something sooner?" Sawyer looked at the girl in front of him, frustration creeping into his voice.

    Alicia pressed her lips together, her expression wracked with guilt. "I''m sorry."

    Sawyer was suddenly hit with the memory of sending Citrine-just eleven years old-away to another country. It had been her birthday. She hadn''t cried or made a scene; she only asked if she''d ever be allowed toe back. He told her of course she could, but in the five years she was gone, he never visited. He hadn''t even called her once.

    He''d wronged her for so many years, shut her out and ignored her. Guilt crashed over him like a wave.

    "Oh God, what have I done to Citrine?" Sawyer''s voice shook, thick with regret.

    Sending Citrine away had been a family decision, a vote. Norton and Clifford had both agreed to it. Now, both brothers looked as if the weight of the world was pressing down on them.

    Norton said quietly, "We all owe Citrine an apology."

    Clifford added, "No wonder she resents us so much. She''s suffered more than we ever knew."

    A few monthster, the Steris Group announced a business g in Crestwood, and the CICI Group received an invitation.

    Steris Group was a rising star in Crestwood, a powerhouse with influence in both business and less savory circles. They''d kept a low profile over the years, and in the city''s elite social scene, they were a mystery that no one could quite crack. Other prominent families had tried to undermine Steris Group in the past, but each time, they''d found themselves outmaneuvered. Eventually, people stopped trying.

    Steris Group almost never showed their faces at Crestwood''s high-society events and avoided mingling with the city''s wealthy families.

    No one expected them to make an exception for CICI Group. Of all the old-money families, not a single one had been invited-only CICI Group, who had just recently moved to Crestwood, received the honor.

    At that moment, Citrine was sitting in her office chair, studying the Steris Group invitation. A small, knowing smile yed on her lips.

    In her previous life, the chairman of Steris Group had been Sebastian.

    It seemed her recent interactions with Sebastian had paid off-at the very least, he''d sent her an invitation.

    But hadn''t he always acted like he was just some struggling nobody when he was with her? Why the sudden change of heart? Citrine couldn''t make sense of it.

    She didn''t dwell on it. The next day, she brought Carlotta along to the venue reserved by Steris Group.

    Carlotta attended as the official CICI Group representative, while Citrine apanied her in the role of staff support.

    In her past life, Steris Group had held enormous sway both in the light and the shadows. Most importantly, they had always refused to get involved in the power struggles among Crestwood''s elite families. The old money in Crestwood could never bring Steris Group down, so they''d tried to win them over, but Steris Group remained firmly neutral.

    This time, Citrine wanted to see if she could finally get Steris Group to choose CICI Group''s side.

 Chapter 363

    Citrine had expected to run into plenty of familiar faces from Crestwood''s elite circles at the event. But when she stepped inside, she realized everyone in the room was a stranger. Not a single friend or acquaintance in sight.

    The gathering itself was unlike any business function she''d attended before. Normally at these things, the CEOs and moguls would be jockeying for position, ying their tired games of ttery and subtle sabotage, deals and drinks flowing in equal measure.

    But tonight, the guests didn''t seem interested in making deals or exchanging hollow pleasantries. Instead, they sat back in their chairs, perfectly at ease- almost as if this was a family dinner rather than a high-stakes corporate gathering. What struck Citrine most was the sense of equality between them; no one tried to dominate the conversation, no one fawned over anyone else. There was a quiet, genuine respect that filled the room, and for the first time, she witnessed a business event that was both peaceful and harmonious.

    The shock of it left her both surprised and deeply unsettled.

    She sat quietly, observing the people around her and listening in on their conversations without drawing attention to herself.

    Bits and pieces of their chatter began to paint a picture. Whenever they spoke about the chairman of Steris Group, their voices took on a tone of profound respect, as if referring to their leader.

    Another familiar name cropped up: the Shadow Syndicate.

    Citrine had heard of the Shadow Syndicate in her previous life. As far as she knew, it was a coalition of over fifty powerfulpanies, something akin to the old merchant guilds, so influential that even Crestwood''s most established families steered clear of crossing them.

    Yet the Shadow Syndicate always kept a low profile; news about them was rare, and Citrine herself had only caught whispers.

    But from the way these people spoke, she had a feeling that the mysterious boss they kept referencing-the one at the top of Steris Group-was also the head of the Shadow Syndicate.

    If her suspicions were correct, that meant Sebastian, the chairman of Steris Group, was also the Syndicate''s leader. And everyone here tonight was a member, loyal to him.

    But CICI Group wasn''t part of the Shadow Syndicate. So why had Steris Group invited them here?

    Citrine''s mind was spinning.

    It had been more than half an hour since they''d arrived, and Carlotta was growing impatient. "What''s with the chairman of Steris Group? Is he nning to keep us waiting all night?"

    "Rx, I''m sure he''ll be here soon," Citrine replied, far calmer than herpanion.

    After several more minutes with no sign of anyone from Steris Group, Citrine excused herself and headed to the restroom.

    Even as she washed her hands, her thoughts kept circling back to the invitation. What did Steris Group want with CICI Group?

    Suddenly, a loud crash shattered her thoughts-the sound of something mming into a door.

    "Who''s there?" Citrine called out, stopping in her tracks.

    No answer. She was about to leave, but as she stepped forward, another crash echoed through the hall, even louder this time, followed by a pained, guttural

    scream.

    Heart pounding, Citrine instinctively looked up toward the second floor. The sound had definitelye from upstairs.

    Without hesitating, she slipped off her heels and crept up the staircase.

    Every door on the second floor was tightly shut. She couldn''t tell which room the noise hade from, so she stood quietly in the hallway, listening for any sign of movement.

    This time, silence stretched on and on. Just as she was about to give up and turn back, a door behind her swung open without warning.

    She barely had time to react before a pair of strong arms grabbed her and dragged her into the room. She hit the floor hard before she could even see her assant, and the door mmed shut behind her with a bang.

    Her captor nodded toward the far side of the room. "Boss, she''s here."

    As Citrine tried to scramble to her feet and see who this ''boss'' was, her eyes

    No matter how fearless she thought she was, nothing could have prepared her for the scene before her eyes.

 Chapter 364

    Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at the figure sprawled on the floor beside her a man, drenched in blood from head to toe, so battered he was barely recognizable as human. The only reason Citrine could tell he was a person at all was the matted hair on his head.

    At that moment, a faint, amused chuckle echoed through the room. "So easily frightened."

    If you listened closely, you could hear genuine delight in the voice.

    The sound was oddly familiar. Citrine forced herself to steady her nerves before looking up.

    "Sebastian?" Her pupils contracted, disbelief written all over her face.

    "You know me?" Sebastian paused, narrowing his eyes as he regarded her.

    Citrine froze, unable to process what she was hearing. "You... don''t remember me?"

    A flicker of irritation crossed Sebastian''s eyes, and his tone turned colder. "Who are you? Should I know you?"

    What''s going on? Did he lose his memory?

    "We saw each other at Crestwood University not long ago. You even walked me back to my dorm. Don''t you remember?" Citrine pressed her lips together, struggling to jog his memory.

    "I walked you back to your dorm? Is this a joke?" Sebastianughed, but the sound was chilling, the smile on his lips icy and cruel.

    He fixed his gaze on Citrine, eyes sharp and merciless, looking at her as if she were already dead. For a moment, Citrine felt as if the blood in her veins had frozen solid.

    She swallowed, forcing her voice to remain steady. "I''m not lying to you. If you don''t believe me, you can have your people check."

    Sebastian let out a low, contemptuousugh. "And what makes you think you''re worth my time?"

    Lounging on the sofa, Sebastian was dressed in an immacte ck suit, his short hair perfectly styled. Legs crossed, he radiated an effortless, aristocratic authority every inch the man inmand.

    Now, he looked down on Citrine from his perch, the air around him so frigid it could chill you to the bone.

    Gone was the gentle Sebastian she''d known. In his ce was someone cold and venomous, exuding a dangerous, predatory aura.

    No matter how hard she tried, Citrine couldn''t reconcile the warm, refined Sebastian from her memories with the cold, snake-like man before her.

    This was a man known for his ruthlessness-head of the Steris Group, and by all ounts, a dangerous figure.

    After a moment''s thought, Citrine finally asked, "What are you nning to do with me?"

    Her calm demeanor seemed to amuse him; a glint of excitement flickered in his eyes. "Feed you to the wolves? Or toss you into the ocean for the sharks?"

    He paused, then added, "Unless you''d rather choose your own way to die."

    He''s insane.

    Citrine met his gaze, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "I''ll pass. I don''t n on dying tonight."

    "That''s not up to you." With those words, Sebastian signaled to his bodyguards.

    Sensing danger, Citrine moved fast. She locked the nearest guard''s arm, pivoted, and mmed him into the floor with a swift over-the-shoulder throw. The man barely had time to react before he was knocked out cold.

    With one down, Citrine''s eyes swept to the others.

    There were eight bodyguards in the room besides Sebastian-hardly a challenge for her. Sheunched herself into the fray, moving so quickly the men barely saw hering. By the time they tried to fight back, they were already on the ground, faces bruised and bloodied. Citrine, on the other hand, remainedpletely unscathed.

    Sebastian watched from his seat, expression inscrutable. After a moment, he actually started pping, a spark of genuine amusement in his eyes. "Impressive. Very impressive. Well done."

    Then he nced at his groaning men on the floor and snorted. ¡°Useless idiots. Take notes."

    "You''ve got to be kidding me," Citrine muttered, rolling her eyes dramatically.

    Whopliments their enemy while mocking their own team at a time like this? This guy was truly nuts.

 Chapter 365

    Sebastian was no longer the man he used to be. It was as if he had lost his memory, which meant all of Citrine''s efforts up to now had been for nothing.

    She looked at Sebastian and, quite suddenly,ughed.

    "We''re not enemies," she said lightly. "As far as I''m concerned, I didn''t see a thing just now."

    "You''re clever," Sebastian replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

    He rose from the couch with deliberate slowness, closing the distance between them one measured step at a time until he was standing right in front of her.

    Citrine was barely five-foot-five; Sebastian towered over her, close to six-foot- three. With him standing so near, he seemed to block out the world, and she had to tilt her head back just to meet his gaze.

    She held his eyes, deliberately softening her tone. "Maybe you thought I was your enemy a minute ago, but now that we''ve cleared things up, maybe we could be friends."

    ¡°Friends?¡± Sebastian''s expression twisted as if he''d just heard the punchline to a joke, and he let out a low, humorlessugh.

    The amusement vanished as quickly as it came. His eyes turned cold, dark, and unflinching as he stared her down. "A little girl who''s barely out of high school wants to be my friend? What makes you think you''re worthy?"

    Citrine smiled, unruffled. "Of course I am. Otherwise, why would ourpany be invited to tonight''s Shadow Syndicate gathering?"

    At the mention of the Shadow Syndicate, Sebastian paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "You know about the Shadow Syndicate?"

    She chuckled. "Not only do I know about them, I also know you''re their leader- the very same man who runs Steris Group."

    His surprise deepened, mingling now with curiosity. "How did you find that out?"

    She shrugged, teasing, "That''s my secret."

    Sebastian didn''t seem annoyed by her evasiveness-in fact, he pressed further. "Who are you, really?" It wasn''t just that she knew about the Shadow Syndicate; what truly unsettled him was that she knew his true identity.

    The more intent he became, the less she wanted to tell him. "Why don''t you take a guess?" she replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

    This little game was far more entertaining than simply giving in, and the wicked smile she shot him said as much.

    Sebastian, who had spent years at the top, couldn''t remember thest time someone had dared to toy with him. His expression grew dangerous, his eyes narrowing.

    The next moment, his lips curled into a menacing grin, and his voice dropped, edged with anger. "You think you can y games with me?"

    Seeing the shift in his mood, Citrine realized she''d pushed him too far. She opened her mouth to say something-anything to diffuse the tension-but before she could get a word out, he grabbed her with one arm and swept her off the ground as if she weighed nothing-a child in his grasp.

    "What are you doing? Put me down!" Citrine yelped, pounding her fists against his back, desperate to wriggle free.

    Sebastian didn''t seem to hear her. He carried her straight toward the backyard, only stopping by the edge of a pool. But this was no ordinary pool.

    Citrine''s eyes widened in horror as she took in the sight before her.

    She stared, frozen, at the water-if you could even call it that. The pool was filled with liquid the color of blood. Or maybe it was blood.

    Beneath the surface, fish darted to and fro-dozens of them, slicing through the crimson water, circling in the densest patches.

    Her face went pale. "Piranhas," she whispered.

    She''d read about them in books before-small, but vicious, with a taste for flesh and an uncanny sensitivity to the scent of humans.

    Never in her life had Citrine imagined someone would actually keep piranhas in their swimming pool.

    ¡°Scared?¡± Sebastian asked, a hint of delight in his voice as he watched her nch.

    They stood at the very edge-just a single step from the blood-red water.

 Chapter 366

    Citrine instinctively tightened her arms around Sebastian''s neck before she managed to ask, "What... what are you doing?"

    Was this lunatic actually nning to throw her into the pool?

    "Just now, that guy came out alive," Sebastian remarked, watching Citrine''s fear with undisguised amusement, as if making a casual observation.

    "So what?" Citrine shot him a wary look, a creeping sense of dread curling in her stomach. Why was he even telling her this?

    Sure enough, the next second, Sebastian''s voice slid cold and quiet into her ear: "If he survived, I suppose you can too."

    "You''re insane. I''m not going in," Citrine snapped, clinging even tighter to his neck.

    "Easy now. Don''t fight it." Sebastian''s gaze softened, almost tender-utterly at odds with his intentions.

    But as he spoke, his other hand came up and began prying her white-knuckled fingers, one by one, from around his neck.

    In a single, effortless motion, he hurled her into the pool.

    Sebastian was strong-Citrine never stood a chance. As gravity took her, panic shed through her eyes. At thest instant, she shot out a hand and caught hold of Sebastian''s suit jacket, yanking him with her into the water.

    He hadn''t expected that. Off bnce and surprised, Sebastian tumbled in right behind her.

    They hit the water with a loud ssh, sending waves and droplets flying.

    Beneath the surface, the school of piranhas-drawn by themotion-darted in their direction.

    The moment Citrine broke the surface, she reached under her shirt for the small knife she always carried. With quick, practiced movements, she dispatched the three piranhas that lunged at her.

    Sebastian, dragged under with her, wasn''t angry-in fact, he seemed almost exhrated.

    He paid no mind to the danger; instead, he watched Citrine''s swift, lethal movements with genuine admiration. "Impressive. Much better than that useless idiot from before."

    "Psychopath," Citrine shot back, teeth gritted.

    Meanwhile, more piranhas from the far end of the pool began closing in, their mouths snapping.

    Citrine kept one eye on the encroaching swarm, methodically stabbing at the fish that came too close.

    At the same time, Sebastian slipped off his ring, pressing a hidden catch that released a razor-sharp needle nearly eight inches long.

    Wearing the ring like a weapon, he stabbed at the piranhas with ruthless precision.

    Back-to-back now, they fought to clear the water around them.

    Within moments, the rest of the piranhas surged forward. Citrine''s skin crawled at the sight-there were just too many. She gripped her knife tighter, dodging and striking in quick session.

    She didn''t see the one piranha streaking straight for her chest until it was almost toote. Too close for her knife-she hesitated, eyes narrowing. In the next heartbeat, she spun and yanked Sebastian between herself and the oing fish.

    The piranha sunk its teeth deep into Sebastian''s shoulder.

    "Damn it," Sebastian grunted, pain etched across his face.

    He retaliated instantly, driving the needle from his ring deep into the predator.

    Blood poured from his wound, and the scent only called more piranhas. Citrine nced toward the edge of the pool, her eyes darkening with resolve.

    She had to get out-now.

    With Sebastian still fending off the fish, Citrine shoved him hard from behind, then turned and powered through the water toward the exit without looking back.

 Chapter 367

    First, that woman had used him as bait for the piranhas. Then, she''d shoved him straight into the water herself. Sebastian had never been this humiliated in his life.

    His gaze turned icy, and his movements quickened with a new, ruthless intent.

    Meanwhile, Citrine was soaked from head to toe, the coppery tang of blood clinging to her skin in a way that made her want to gag. There was no way she could go outside looking like this.

    She figured Sebastian wouldn''t be able to get out anytime soon, so, on a split- second decision, she darted into his room to take a shower.

    Worried he mighte looking for her, Citrine washed up as fast as she could- done in just over ten minutes.

    Of course, there were no women''s clothes in the room. Rifling through the closet, she found only a man''s shirt.

    It was huge on her, the hem hanging down almost to her knees. She was so petite that, on her, it looked more like a dress, leaving just her bare, pale legs exposed.

    She''d just stepped out of the bathroom and was about to leave when she heard footsteps in the hallway.

    Heart pounding, Citrine instantly ducked into the bedroom, hiding herself behind the door.

    At that moment, Sebastian emerged from the pool, stripping off his shirt and tossing it aside. His bare torso was all powerful lines and coiled strength, his arms tensed and ready-equal parts danger and allure.

    His face was hard and unreadable as he strode toward the bedroom.

    Citrine, hidden behind the door, held her breath. Her grip tightened unconsciously on the knife in her hand.

    Sebastian took a single step into the room-and felt a sudden, blinding pain, cold and sharp.

    He grunted, then nced down at the girl in front of him. "You''re still here?"

    Noticing she was wearing his shirt, Sebastian''s lips curled into a taunting smile. "What, you like my clothes that much?"

    "Don''t move." Citrine''s eyes were fixed on him, the knife pressed hard against his chest. The look on her face made it clear: one wrong move and she wouldn''t hesitate.

    Sebastian''s expression didn''t change. "Be smart. Put the knife down. Or you''re not leaving this room tonight."

    Citrine let out a soft, mockingugh. "Is that a threat?"

    She tilted her head, her voice almost yful. "Too bad. Threats don''t scare me." With that, she drove the de hard into the left side of Sebastian''s chest.

    Blood instantly stained the knife. Sebastian''s face paled, his voice gone hoarse. "Not even twenty, and already so ruthless."

    "Ruthless?" Citrine''s lips curved in a cold little smile, her grip tightening even

    more.

    "But don''t worry," she said, her tone almost gentle. "You won''t die from this. I studied medicine-I know every inch of the human body. If I really wanted you dead, I wouldn''t have aimed here first."

    She nudged the knife slightly left. "I''d have gone for this spot. One stab and it''s over."

    Just then, a low, sardonicugh rumbled from above her. Sebastian''s voice was cold: "Hasn''t anyone ever told you, being soft on others is just being cruel to yourself?"

    Before Citrine could react, Sebastian knocked the knife from her hand in a swift, practiced motion. In the next instant, he caught her around the waist and tossed her onto the bed.

    She barely had time to scramble upright before he was on top of her, pinning her down.

    All she had on was that oversized shirt, practically see-through when wet, and Sebastian''s bare skin was burning against hers. He held himself above her with one hand braced on the headboard, while his other hand closed tightly around her slender, pale throat.

    His grip tightened, bit by bit. Citrine struggled, wing desperately at his hand, her panic growing.

    Her face was strikingly beautiful-lips as red as cherries, her expression twisting in pain and defiance. Sebastian found himself inexplicably exhrated by the sight.

    As she thrashed beneath him, their bodies pressed closer. Suddenly, Sebastian froze, noticing something different-something soft and yielding under his hands. Abruptly, he let go.

    He might not be a good man, but hurting a girl like this wasn''t something he could stomach.

    "Pathetic," Citrine spat, catching the faint flush on his ears and realizing what he''d just registered. She shoved him off and scrambled to sit up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

    Sebastian looked her up and down with a slow, deliberate gaze, then snorted, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Rx. It''s not like I''d ever be interested in a kid with a figure like yours."

 Chapter 368

    Citrine ignored him. After straightening her clothes, she left the room without another word.

    This time, Sebastian didn''t try to stop her.

    She had barely made it downstairs when Carlotta appeared, carrying a fresh change of clothes.

    The moment Carlotta caught sight of Citrine''s disheveled appearance, her face fell. Clearly worried, she rushed over. "Citrine, what happened to you?"

    "It''s nothing. I just need to change." Citrine took the clothes from her, not waiting for further questions, and slipped into the restroom.

    Once she''d tidied up and changed, she emerged to find Carlotta waiting anxiously.

    As soon as Citrine stepped out, Carlotta pressed her again. "Citrine, did someone hurt you?"

    Citrine''s gaze darkened. "No, just ran into a lunatic. But don''t worry-I got out unscathed."

    In fact,pared to Sebastian, she''de out ahead. After all, he was the one left with several nasty bite marks.

    Realizing Citrine wasn''t in the mood to talk, Carlotta let the matter drop.

    Together, they returned to the main hall, just as the representative from Steris Group took the stage.

    It wasn''t Sebastian-this time it was a man in his thirties, sharply dressed and businesslike.

    He wasted no time with pleasantries. His eyes swept the room,nding on Citrine and Carlotta with a smirk that was almost a sneer. "I assume by now you all know our chairman is the head of the Shadow Syndicate, so I''ll skip the introductions."

    Citrine blinked, surprised. So Sebastian had already shared their earlier exchange with this man.

    Before she could dwell on it, the representative continued, "Our chairman has been watching CICI Group''s progress and is impressed. He''d like to formally invite CICI Group to join the Shadow Syndicate."

    Though he called it an invitation, his tone was anything but courteous. It wasced with arrogance, as if he was certain no sane person would refuse.

    Citrine gave a coldugh and replied without hesitation, "Sorry, but CICI Group isn''t interested." The words had barely left her lips before murmurs erupted all around the hall.

    "Is she insane? This is the Shadow Syndicate-people would kill for a chance like this."

    "I''ve never seen anyone refuse them before."

    "She must be out of her mind."

    The man''s smile faltered, but he forced it back as he addressed her, "If I''m not mistaken, Ms. Carmichael, you''re not the chairman of CICI Group. Who are you to decide?"

    Citrine remained unfazed. "My answer is the chairman''s answer."

    The man''s expression froze, pride stinging. He tried to recover, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "Ms. Carmichael, I suggest you reconsider. The Shadow Syndicate is powerful. We could offer CICI Group tremendous benefits. Making an enemy of us isn''t wise."

    Citrine rose from her seat, meeting his gaze head-on. "CICI Group has gotten this far on its own. We don''t need to ride anyone''s coattails-least of all yours."

    She continued, her tone unwavering, "More importantly, CICI Group only ys to win. We''re not interested in being someone else''sckey. If the day everes when the entire Shadow Syndicate is ready to follow CICI Group''s lead, maybe I''ll consider your offer."

    From the very start, Citrine had never intended to y second fiddle. She wanted the top spot-Sebastian''s spot.

    Her words were so brazen the entire room stared at her as if she''d lost her mind.

    "Does she hear herself? She''s got to be crazy."

    "She must think she''s invincible. No one''s ever talked to them like that. Clearly, she''s never been put in her ce."

    The man''sposure crumbled, anger shing across his face. "You want the Shadow Syndicate to answer to CICI Group? Keep dreaming."

    He let out a cold snort. "I hope you don''t live to regret this."

    With a dismissive wave, he gestured toward the exit. "Since you''re not interested, there''s no reason for you to stay. Please see yourselves out."

    Once outside, Carlotta grabbed Citrine''s hand, her voice trembling with worry. "Citrine, did we just bite off more than we can chew?"

    Citrine patted her hand reassuringly. "Don''t worry. It''s nothing we can''t handle."

 Chapter 369

    Sebastian had just finished his shower and hadn''t been out for long.

    He loungedzily on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, exuding an air of effortless detachment. The crisp, tailored white dress shirt hugged his tall frame perfectly, the top buttons undone to reveal a hint of defined chest muscles¡ª undeniably attractive.

    He lit a cigarette with practiced ease, took a deep drag, and exhaled azy swirl of smoke before finally turning his cool gaze toward the middle-aged man standing before him. Sebastian''s lips parted in anguid drawl. "How did it go?"

    The man stood respectfully, watching Sebastian''s expression with anxious caution. "CICI Group refused."

    Sebastian paused mid-flick, ashes dangling from his cigarette. A flicker of amusement lit his eyes. "Interesting."

    He didn''t seem the least bit surprised.

    The middle-aged man hesitated, nervously wetting his lips before continuing, "Not only did they refuse, but the woman who met with you today said... that CICI Group only ys to win. If, one day, the entire Shadow Syndicate is willing to answer to them, maybe just maybe they''d consider joining us."

    Sebastian had just taken another drag when the words hit him. He choked, coughing hard as the smoke caught in his throat.

    It took a moment before he recovered.

    A slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips. "She''s got a death wish. Small as she is, her ambition''s something else." The nerve to think she could take his ce. That kind of audacity almost entertained him.

    Thad, the middle-aged man, could never guess what went on in Sebastian''s mind. Around this lunatic, his nerves were always stretched thin.

    Swallowing nervously, Thad ventured, "Sir, since CICI Group turned down your offer, should we teach them a lesson?"

    Just the memory of that girl''s unflinching resolve made a phantom pain tingle along the spot where Sebastian once felt like he''d been bitten by piranhas. He smirked. "No need."

    Then he looked at Thad, eyebrows raised. "By the way, what''s her name?"

    Thad hesitated. "You mean the CICI Group rep? The one who met with you earlier?"

    Sebastian nodded. "Her."

    "That was one of their lead negotiators, I think. Her name''s Citrine Carmichael."

    "Citrine Carmichael," Sebastian repeated, letting the name linger on his tongue, lips curling into a faint smile.

    His eyes narrowed as he gave the next order. "Find out everything you can about her. That girl''s no ordinary yer."

    "Yes, sir. I''ll get right on it." Thad sounded almost relieved to have an excuse to leave, and he hurried out of the room.

    Just who exactly was this woman?

    Sebastian sat alone on the sofa, deep in thought as the cigarette smoke curled around him, shrouding him in a haze of contemtion.

    That night, Citriney awake, her mind spinning with thoughts of the Shadow Syndicate.

    Her original n had been to use Sebastian as a stepping stone, to get close to the Syndicate and take control from the inside. But now, not only did Sebastian not remember her, he''d be the Syndicate''s new leader-and, more crucially, everyone in Shadow seemed unfailingly loyal to him.

    Her chances of taking over Shadow Syndicate were now next to nothing.

    But she still had old scores to settle-she couldn''t just walk away. If Shadow Syndicate couldn''t be hers, then she''d just have to build her own version of it from the ground up.

    Citrine was so lost in thought that she barely noticed when her phone buzzed.

    She reached for it, opening the screen with practiced ease.

    The chat thread with Hastings was a long string of unanswered invitations from him. She hadn''t replied to a single one.

    Now, she focused on the most recent message.

 Chapter 370

    "Crestwood Art Gallery''s hosting an exhibit tomorrow. I bought tickets-want to go together?" Hastings texted.

    Citrine nced at her calendar. Nothing scheduled for tomorrow. She typed back quickly: "Sounds good!"

    Meanwhile, at the club.

    Theo and the guys were drinking in a private lounge,ughter echoing off the walls. They lounged on the sofas, legs crossed, each with a couple of fresh-faced college students at their sides¡ªeveryone except Hastings, who sat alone in a corner, hunched over his phone.

    He must''ve just gotten a message, because a small smile curled on his lips before he could help himself.

    Someone nearby caught the change in his expression and ribbed him, grinning, ¡°Hastings, what''s up with youtely? You''re glued to that damn phone every night."

    Then, as if hit by a sudden realization, the guy''s eyes went wide. "Wait-don''t tell me you''ve got yourself a girlfriend?"

    Hastings just shot him a t look, said nothing, and dropped his gaze to his phone again.

    He kept rereading Citrine''s short reply, a quiet happiness filling his chest.

    Theo, sitting between two girls, suddenly shoved away the sweet-looking brte beside him and sat up straighter, eyes narrowed in disbelief. ¡°Hastings, are you serious? Did you really get a girlfriend?"

    Quentin looked just as stunned. He grinned at Hastings and teased, "Come on, when did this happen? Is it that ''pain in the ass'' you mentionedst time?"

    Both of them fixed their attention on Hastings, waiting for him to spill.

    Hastings let out a resigned littleugh. "It''s her. But she''s not my girlfriend-at least, not yet."

    He couldn''t help but smile again. "But I''m pretty sure she will be soon."

    Quentin burst outughing. "Man, you really kept this under wraps! No wonder you''ve been wandering around in a daze, clutching your phone like it''s got your soul trapped in it."

    He was already imagining the peace of not having topete with Hastings for Kali''s attention anymore, and the thought made him grin even wider.

    But Theo didn''t look thrilled. He studied Hastings for a moment, his tone abruptly serious. "I thought you liked Kali. Are you really over her?"

    "Are you sure you can let Kali go?" Theo and Hastings had grown up together, and he''d seen firsthand how much Hastings doted on his little sister. No matter how ridiculous Kali''s requests, Hastings always indulged her he''d spoiled her rotten for years.

    Hastings hesitated, clearly caught off guard by the question. He paused, then said carefully, "Now, I just see Kali as a sister."

    "I really did think I liked her once, but it turns out, what I felt wasn''t the way a man loves a woman. It was just brotherly affection."

    Meeting Citrine had shown him the truth-he''d always thought Kali was the one, but with Citrine, everything felt different. He only ever spoiled Kali like a sibling. Citrine, though... she made his heart race. She was the one he couldn''t stop thinking about, the one who kept him up at night.

    If he didn''t see her, he missed her like crazy. If she didn''t respond to his texts, he got restless. But when she did reply, he''d be happy for days.

    Citrine could turn his world upside down with a single message-something Kali had never done.

    After Hastings finished, Theo pressed his lips together and didn''t mention Kali again.

    A beatter, he gave a crooked smile and teased, "With your status, it''s only a matter of time before you win her over."

    "When are you bringing her around to meet the rest of us?"

    "Yeah, don''t keep us waiting," Quentin chimed in.

    Hastings gripped his phone, eyes shining with anticipation. He chuckled, "You''ll

    have to wait a bit. Only if she says yes."

 Chapter 371

    The next morning, rain swept over Crestwood, the temperature plummeting as cold wind rattled the trees outside.

    Hastings was already waiting downstairs, just as they''d agreed.

    Meanwhile, Citrine lounged on the living room sofa,zily ying with the kitten nestled in her arms. Happy, half-lidded and purring, stretched out his round belly and nudged closer, utterly content.

    From her spot by the window, Citrine could see Hastings standing below, holding a flimsy umbre. The temperature had dropped to just fifty degrees, yet he wore nothing but a thin T-shirt.

    He must be freezing, she thought, a spiteful little wish crossing her mind: If only the cold would do him in.

    Suddenly, she remembered a day from herst life. Back then, she''d gone to find Theo; it was pouring rain and she hadn''t brought an umbre. She called him, "Theo, can youe pick me up?"

    Instead of Theo, she got Hastings on the line, his voice bristling with annoyance. "It''s Kali''s birthday. You won''t die if you get a little wet, stop being so dramatic." He hung up before she could say another word.

    As Theo''s friend, Hastings had always looked down on her, never missing a chance to humiliate her.

    This time around, she decided, she''d make sure Hastings got a taste of humiliation himself. Slowly, carefully-she''d make him pay.

    As the agreed-upon time approached, Citrine showed no sign of hurrying.

    After a while, she picked up her phone and sent Hastings a message: "Hold on, I''ll be down a bitte."

    He replied instantly: "That''s fine, take your time."

    Obedient little puppy, she thought, her lips curling in a satisfied smile.

    She set her phone aside and yed with Happy a while longer. Nearly an hour slipped by before Citrine finally stood up.

    She threw on some casual clothes-no makeup, not even a nce in the mirror- and strolled to the elevator, taking her time on the way down.

    Hastings was athletic, but standing in the icy rain for almost an hour in just a T- shirt had clearly taken its toll. His clothes clung to him, rain-soaked and bedraggled.

    He was just beginning to wonder if Citrine intended to stand him up when he heard his name called from behind.

    "Hastings." The girl''s voice was clear and soft, lilting like the first breeze of spring. He turned, and the irritation he''d felt instantly vanished at the sight of her.

    Worried she''d get wet, he shifted the umbre to shelter her, then asked, "What took you so long?"

    "Oh, nothing. I''m a little under the weather," Citrine replied, giving a faint cough and feigning a fragile air.

    Hastings, remembering his earlier flicker of impatience, felt a pang of guilt. "Do you have a fever?" he asked.

    Before she could respond, he leaned in and pressed his cold hand to her forehead.

    Almost instantly, Citrine jerked away, a sh of undisguised loathing in her eyes- though she quickly masked it with indifference.

    "I''m not running a fever," she said coolly.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Hastings said, forcing a smile. ¡°Let''s get in the car.¡± He opened the door for her, still convinced she was genuinely unwell.

    They reached the art gallery soon after. Crestwood''srgest, the ce was steeped in history and filled with rare treasures.

    Inside, Citrine''s gaze was immediately drawn to the paintings. She studied them intently as Hastings trailed beside her, his eyes fixed far more on her than on the art.

    Suddenly, Citrine stopped in front of a particr painting.

    In the artwork, the protagonist was trapped beneath the surface of an icyke, separated from the distant sun by a wall of frozen water.

    A man nearbymented, "It''s beautiful. The sun looks so warm-I bet the

    merman in the painting is reaching out, hoping the sun will save him."

 Chapter 372

    "The mermaid must be hoping the sun will melt the frozenke, so it can be reborn."

    A round of apuse broke out among the crowd who heard this exnation.

    "Sir, you really are brilliant. That interpretation is fantastic."

    "I''m sure the artist''s intention is pretty much what you just said."

    Citrine stood at the front, listening to everyone, her facepletely impassive.

    Hastings noticed her silence and leaned in, asking, "What do you think?"

    Citrine stared at the painting for a long moment before finally speaking. "It''s a struggle."

    "The sun and the mermaid are locked in a battle."

    Hastings blinked, momentarily taken aback.

    Someone nearby overheard Citrine''sment and chuckled. "Sweetheart, you''re awfully young. It''s normal you don''t understand art, but don''t just make things up."

    "Exactly. This painting is pretty deep. It''s not something kids can figure out."

    "You should focus on your studies instead of overthinking grown-up stuff."

    ...

    As the snide remarks continued, Hastings'' expression turned icy. "That''s enough. All of you-be quiet."

    The crowd''s attention snapped to him. Someone scowled. "Hey, who do you think you are, kid?"

    Hastings was about to retort when Citrine grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back. Whatever he''d been about to say died on his lips.

    Just then, Citrine began to speak, unhurried and calm.

    "The artist painted the sun very close to the water, but instead of bright colors, he used ck. That suggests the sun isn''t a hero here¡ªit''s almost the viin of this piece, trying to scorch every living thing out of the sea."

    "If you look closely, the sand around the ocean is already parched and sprouting grass. Further out, there''s nothing but scattered stones, and on those stones, fish are leaping and struggling, barely alive. It means the sun is drying the sea, shrinking it bit by bit, and the creatures are dying as it recedes."

    "As for the thinyer of ice on the sea-it''s painted in pale, almost transparent colors. That tells us it isn''t real. The ice is an illusion, something the mermaid imagines as a shield against the sun, a weapon in this battle. The mermaid hopes thisyer will protect itself, and the whole ocean, maybe even melt the sun away."

    "The mermaid doesn''t want to die under the zing sun, so it dreams up this ice to fight back. It''s a game of strategy-a battle of wills between the sun and the mermaid."

    When Citrine finished, the room fell silent. For a moment, everyone just stared, stunned.

    Then, as if on cue, apuse erupted around her.

    "Amazing, kid. That''s some insight. You''re going ces."

    "I had my doubts at first, but after hearing that, I''m convinced."

    ...

    It wasn''t just the crowd-Hastings was floored too.

    He''d grown up in the Cooper family, surrounded by the upper crust and all things refined, so he''d learned a thing or two about art appreciation. He knew just how remarkable Citrine''s analysis was.

    But Citrine only smiled at the praise, saying nothing more.

    Up on the second floor, the museum director had watched the whole exchange. He made a mental note of the girl, her name now firmly etched in his memory.

    Later, Citrine and Hastings wandered through more galleries. Despite her young age, Citrine''s insight was uncanny. No matter how cryptic or chaotic the painting, she always nailed the artist''s intent in a few precise words.

    Hastings watched her, his eyes growing brighter with each room.

    He trailed after her quietly, letting her critique the artwork while he, in turn, found himself drawn to her.

    Citrine tackled everything with single-minded focus. She was here for the exhibit, and she poured herself into the paintings, never sparing Hastings so much as a nce he might as well have been invisible.

    Only when they''d finished thest painting did she finally look his way, just once.

    Hastings didn''t mind at all. He followed obediently at her side, as eager and loyal as a puppy.

 Chapter 373

    For weeks, Kali had been bombarding Hastings with messages, but not a single reply ever came. The silence gnawed at her, leaving her stewing in frustration.

    One afternoon, as she opened her social feed out of habit, she nearly dropped her phone in shock-Hastings had posted an update.

    The caption was nothing but a sun emoji, but the image was what caught her breath: an oil painting in a gallery, and a woman''s silhouette, her bare back half- turned to the camera.

    Even though only half her back was visible, Kali could tell in an instant-the woman was beautiful.

    Kali stared at the post, her face darkening with rage.

    Others might not recognize the figure, but she knew immediately. That was Citrine.

    So, Hastings had ignored her for weeks, but somehow found time to escort that bitch to a gallery. He was smitten, truly smitten with Citrine. But he used to be into her-Kali. How had everything changed?

    A surge of panic rose in Kali''s chest, sharp and cold.

    She remembered that taunting message Citrine had sent her not long ago. Gritting her teeth, Kali scrolled through her phone until she found the screenshot and sent it straight to Hastings.

    Kali: Hastings, look at what she said she thinks you''re not good enough for her.

    At that moment, Hastings was with Theo and the others, idly checking his phone when Kali''s message popped up. He had no intention of answering his thumb was already reaching for the back button-when something about the screenshot caught his eye. That familiar username.

    He stopped, erging the image.

    Citrine: I could run rings around him eight hundred times and still not care. He''s the one who''s not good enough for me. Besides, he said I''m prettier than you.

    At thest line, Hastings couldn''t help himself¡ªhe snorted withughter.

    Such a brat. So childish.

    He could just picture her, chin lifted, defiant and smug as she typed those words.

    Suppressing his amusement, Hastings finally replied: She''s right. I''m not good enough for her.

    Kali had been waiting anxiously for his response; as soon as the notification chimed, she snatched up her phone-only to freeze, her face turning ashen.

    Her voice rose into a shrill screech, "That little bitch." What had Citrine done to him? What spell had she cast to turn him into such an idiot?

    The more Kali thought about it, the angrier she became. She swept her arm across her vanity, sending her expensive makeup ttering and shattering across the hardwood floor.

    Steris Group Headquarters.

    A man sat with his legs crossed, brow furrowed as he skimmed through the documents his assistant had just delivered.

    His lips parted, voice low. "The Iverson family''s adopted daughter was abused from childhood, sent overseas at eleven, brought back half a year ago by the Carmichael family, then aced her science exams and got into Crestwood University''s medical school. Is there anything else?"

    The assistant swallowed, voice trembling as he answered, "ording to our investigation, Ms. Carmichael wasn''t actually sent abroad when she was eleven. She was sent to Mirage Cay, and didn''t leave until she was fourteen."

    He hesitated, lowering his gaze. "We can''t find any records of what happened on Mirage Cay, or how Ms. Carmichael managed to leave. Everything''s been carefully wiped."

    "Mirage Cay," Sebastian repeated quietly, his eyes narrowing.

    That ce¡ªeveryone in their world knew its reputation. Awless ind where

    almost no one returned alive. It was infamous for bloodshed, violence, unspeakable deals, and every breed of depravity. A ce that chewed people up and spat out bones.

    Anyone who survived Mirage Cay... no wonder she was fearless.

    Just as the thought crossed his mind, a sharp, blinding pain tore through Sebastian''s head, so fierce it felt like something was battering the inside of his skull.

    He pressed his fists to his temples, trying to drive out whatever was wing at his mind.

    "Boss! Are you alright?" His assistant panicked, but didn''t dare approach.

    He fumbled for his phone and quickly dialed the Sebastian family''s house manager.

    Within minutes, the butler arrived and whisked Sebastian away to a private hospital owned by Steris Group.

    After the IV drip, the pain finally subsided. But when Sebastian opened his eyes, he was no longer the same man as before.

 Chapter 374

    Sebastian''s usual icyposure had melted away, leaving him looking lost and vulnerable as he turned to his butler.

    "Phipps, what''s happening to me?"

    Phipps'' brow twitched, but he kept his expression steady. "It''s nothing, Sebastian. You''ve just been working too hard-juggling your job and sses. No wonder you fainted."

    After a pause, he added, "Listen to me. You really shouldn''t keep working outside anymore."

    Without hesitation, Sebastian shook his head, his face earnest. "I can''t. My mom''s still in the hospital-she needs the money."

    Phipps sighed, already knowing argument was futile. "Alright then, but promise me you won''t push yourself too hard. Your mother only has you. If anything were to happen to you, she''d be heartbroken."

    Sebastian managed a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry, Phipps."

    Then, after a beat, he went on, "Thank you for bringing me to the hospital. My mom and I... we''ve caused you a lot of trouble over the years."

    Phipps waved him off. "Nonsense. It''s the least I can do."

    Once his IV finished, Sebastian insisted on returning to campus. Phipps couldn''t stop him, so he made sure to alert the school staff ahead of time, asking them not to let anything slip.

    After they left, a man in a white coat slipped quietly into the room.

    He removed his surgical mask and sat beside Phipps. "How long is this going to go on? Keeping the truth from him isn''t a solution. Wouldn''t it be better to tell him that his mother passed away years ago?"

    Phipps''s brows drew together in a hard line as he shot the doctor a grim look. "Absolutely not. The young master couldn''t handle it. If he suffers another shock, his alter personality could overwhelm himpletely."

    "If that happens, the real Sebastian will be gone for good. He''ll be trapped in the pain of being twenty-two forever." Phipps''s face grew paler as he spoke.

    He looked directly at Saul, the doctor. "This can''t go on. It''s only a matter of time before the truthes out. You and your team need to find a treatment-one that will make the second personality disappear for good."

    Saul let out a long sigh but finally nodded. "We''ll do everything we can."

    Meanwhile, Citrine was on her way out for dinner when she spotted a familiar face just outside the dorm.

    Sebastian?

    Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she quickly pretended not to recognize him, walking straight past without a second nce.

    She hadn''t made it far when Sebastian called after her. Citrine hesitated, then turned around, her expression guarded.

    "Citrine." Sebastian stared at her, bewildered.

    He looked at her with confusion. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

    Remembering how badly theirst encounter had ended, Citrine gave a cold, sarcastic smile. "So, your gunshot wound''s all healed?" Her tone was sharp, not even trying to sound polite.

    Sebastian looked utterly lost. "What are you talking about? What gunshot wound?"

    Citrine scrutinized him. There was something different about himpared tost time, but his face was undeniably the same.

    She searched his expression, hoping to catch a hint of something familiar-or unfamiliar but found nothing.

    With a faint frown, she gave him another once-over, head to toe.

    Today, Sebastian wore a crisp white shirt and faded blue jeans.

    What''s changed?

    Citrine stared at his face, trying to pinpoint the difference. And then, suddenly, she

    realized what set him apart from the person she''d met before.

 Chapter 375

    Today, Sebastian''s look was all understated college student-jeans, a in shirt, nothing fancy. He still carried that subtle air of aloofness, a distant cool that kept strangers at arm''s length, but it didn''t feel hostile or unsettling.

    Thest time she''d seen him, though, he''d been apletely different person. There was something icy and intimidating about him then, from the way he moved to the way he looked at people-like someone used to being in charge, radiating a suffocating sense of authority.

    How could the same man seem like two utterly different people?

    Right now, Sebastian had slipped back into the easygoing manner Citrine remembered from before-and oddly, he seemed to have no recollection of what had happened between themst time.

    Citrine stayed quiet for a moment, making a point not to mention what had just urred. She looked at him and asked, her voice calm, "So, what brings you here?"

    Sebastian didn''t seem to notice anything off about her. He just replied, "I had some things to take care of at school."

    Then, as if eager to change the subject, he quickly added, "But it won''t take long. Are you free tonight? Maybe we could go out for a walk?"

    "Sure," Citrine said breezily. She had no intention of missing this chance-she still had no idea what secrets he was hiding.

    After they parted ways, Citrine headed to the little bistro she frequented.

    As she waited for her meal, her mind wandered back to thoughts of Sebastian, so much so that she didn''t realize someone had quietly taken the seat across from her.

    It wasn''t until she snapped out of her thoughts that Citrine noticed the man facing her. He''d been watching her the whole time.

    She frowned slightly, but her tone remained polite. "Excuse me, do I know you?"

    The man smiled. "Ms. Carmichael, allow me to introduce myself. I''m Phipps, Mr. Vesper''s butler."

    Sebastian''s butler? Why would he be looking for her?

    Citrine blinked in surprise. "Is there something I can help you with?"

    Perhaps it was her unfailingly polite demeanor, but Phipps found himself warming to this girl-despite himself.

    He smiled again. "Ms. Carmichael, please don''t be rmed. I only wanted to exin Sebastian''s situation to you."

    Citrine had already begun to suspect something, but she kept herposure and asked evenly, "What situation?"

    Phipps let out a long sigh, his voice lowering. "I suppose there''s no point hiding it now. You''ve probably noticed-Sebastian suffers from a serious psychological condition. He has dissociative identity disorder. In other words, there are two people living inside him."

    So that was it. Suddenly, everything fell into ce for Citrine.

    She lifted her eyes, gaze sharp as she regarded the man across from her. "So, what do you want from me?"

    Phipps couldn''t help but smile-she was quick on the uptake. "Ms. Carmichael, you''ve met both of Sebastian''s personalities. But Sebastian himself has no idea about his illness. I need you to keep this secret. Pretend you don''t know."

    He paused, then added, "If you agree, you''ll bepensated-two billion dors." Citrine''s expression barely changed, but at the mention of that sum, a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes.

    How generous.

    "It''s a deal," she said with a small, satisfied smile. Only a fool would walk away from that kind of money.

    Phipps had been worried she might be hard to persuade, but seeing her clear desire for the money, his eyes warmed with satisfaction.

    She was still just a young woman, after all. The Carmichael family was wealthy, sure, but not so much that they''d hand her two billion to spend as she pleased. To be handed that much, no strings attached-who wouldn''t ept?

    Thank goodness she was motivated by money. If she hadn''t been, if she''d been the type without greed or weakness, Phipps honestly wouldn''t have known how to negotiate.

    Citrine smiled faintly, giving nothing away. She could tell Phipps had finally let his guard down around her.

    Sure enough, in the next moment, Phipps told her, "The Sebastian you met today isn''t the primary personality. He''s the second."

 Chapter 376

    Everything about his life right now is a lie-school, his job, all of it. This version of Sebastian is still trapped in those first years after his mother fell ill, when he was penniless and desperate, splitting his days between sses and backbreaking shifts just to scrape together enough for her treatment.

    Citrine remembered Sebastian mentioning his mother''s illness. Hearing Phipps bring it up again now, she couldn''t help but ask, ¡°Is his mother... is she still alive?"

    Phipps pressed his lips together, pain flickering across his face as old memories surfaced. It took him a long moment to answer. "She passed away. But Sebastian doesn''t know. Please don''t tell him."

    Citrine nodded silently.

    After a pause, she spoke up again. "The Sebastian I met at the partyst time... that was his main personality, wasn''t it?" Since Phipps hade to see her, he must know about what happened at the party.

    "Yes," Phipps replied with a nod.

    Citrine turned it all over in her mind, then gave a half-smile. "You''re worried if I tell him the truth, it''ll trigger his second personality. And if that happens, the second personality might take overpletely."

    Phipps stared at her, astonished. "How did you know?"

    She didn''t answer, just continued, "So you want to preserve his primary self."

    "Or, to put it another way, you mean to destroy his second personality."

    Phipps''s faint smile faded away. He didn''t deny it. "That''s right."

    "Sebastian has fought so hard to w his way out of his past. He built everything he has from scratch-he can''t lose it all now."

    "Ms. Carmichael, as long as you promise to keep this from Sebastian, I can offer you another two hundred million." Phipps''s eyes narrowed slightly, uncertain of Citrine''s intentions, so he raised the stakes.

    "My, that''s generous." Citrine''s tone was impossible to read.

    She looked over at him, her voice light and almost amused. "Phipps, you seem to think I''m awfully important. If you''re paying hush money to everyone in the know, won''t Steris Group go bankrupt before long?"

    Phipps froze, then gave a wry smile. "You''re very sharp."

    It had only taken her a few words to see straight through him. Truly impressive.

    Citrine''s lips curled in a small smile. "You''re not the first to say so, but thank you all the same."

    Realizing there was no more use in trying to hide it, Phipps decided toe clean. ¡°Sebastian doesn''t believe what anyone else says. But you''re different. You matter to him. His second personality-he likes you."

    Phipps had always kept an eye on Sebastian, and he knew all about what had happened between Sebastian and Citrine back in Havencrest. Besides, every time Sebastian saw him, he''d find some excuse to bring up this girl. Even if he were a fool, Phipps would still have figured out how Sebastian felt about her.

    Sebastian was young, inexperienced in love, probably hadn''t even realized how he felt. But Phipps, who''d lived long enough to know the ways of the world, could see through the confusion of youth. If he couldn''t read a boy''s heart, what had he learned at all?

    Citrine, sharp as she was, hadn''t expected this. She stared at Phipps, stunned. "What? That can''t be. We''ve barely even spoken!"

    Sebastian liked her? When had that happened? Why hadn''t she noticed?

    Phipps''s tone was firm. "I''ve watched him grow up. I know what''s in his heart. He''s never shown the slightest interest in women-except for you."

    "He''s definitely in love with you."

 Chapter 377

    As she left, Citrine slipped the two checks from the table into her purse without a second thought.

    Forty million dors in hand-no wonder even the breeze on her walk back felt sweet.

    She mused to herself: if she''d lived herst life with as few moral qualms as she had now, she''d probably have been riding high for years. Too bad she''d been such a naive idiot back then.

    But that was fine. This time around, she was going to get everything she wanted.

    ***

    That afternoon, Sebastian was already waiting outside the girls'' dormitory.

    Tall and striking, he leaned casually against a pir, one hand tucked into his pocket, eyes fixed on the entrance.

    Students passing by couldn''t help but stare.

    "Oh my god, he''s gorgeous. Do you think he has a girlfriend?" one girl squealed in a hushed whisper.

    "I wouldn''t get your hopes up," her friend replied, ncing at his face and lowering her voice conspiratorially. "That''s Sebastian-he''s the one Kali''s got her eye on."

    "Oh-never mind, then."

    Unaware of their conversation, Sebastian kept his gaze locked on the dorm''s front doors.

    After a few minutes, Citrine finally emerged.

    The instant he saw her, the chill in Sebastian''s eyes melted away, reced by a softness that was almost startling.

    A gentle smile touched his lips, and his whole demeanor shifted-suddenly warm, attentive.

    Citrine felt a bit awkward, remembering what Phipps had said about Sebastian having a crush on her.

    She studied his face for any sign of affection. There was nothing overt, but she couldn''t deny that his gaze was different from how he looked at anyone else.

    She approached, her voice soft. "Ready to go?¡±

    Sebastian hesitated, then blurted out, "There''s a music festival at Chroma za tonight. Want to check it out?"

    "Sure," Citrine replied easily. "I''m free.¡±

    The campus was a ways from Chroma za, so Citrine led Sebastian to the school''s parking lot.

    Sebastian watched in disbelief as Citrine unlocked a sleek Phantom. "Wait, this is your car?"

    "Yeah," she answered, catching herself before she could say more¡ªafter all, Sebastian was supposed to be the broke guy, at least ording to his cover story. ¡°Hop in.¡± Citrine slid into the driver''s seat and nced over at him expectantly. Sebastian climbed in on the passenger side, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands or feet.

    Citrine seemed perfectly at ease. She shot him a look and said gently, "Seatbelt."

    When he didn''t move right away, she leaned over and tugged the seatbelt across his chest.

    The space between them all but vanished, their bodies almost pressed together.

    Sebastian''s cheeks flushed red, the color creeping up to his ears. His heart thudded wildly in his chest.

    Citrine realized how close they were and nced at him. Their eyes met, and for a split second, time seemed to freeze.

    He felt as though someone had squeezed his heart tight.

    Finally, the seatbelt clicked into ce. Citrine murmured, "There you go," and shifted away with a calm that made Sebastian feel even more self-conscious.

    She acted as if their closeness hadn''t meant a thingposed, unruffled. Sebastian, on the other hand, couldn''t get his heart to settle.

    Who would''ve thought a guy in his twenties could be flustered by a teenage girl?

    It wasn''t until they reached Chroma za that the flush faded from his face.

    The za was packed, music pounding through the air.

    Citrine started toward the entrance, but when she nced back, she saw Sebastian trailing behind, juggling a huge bag stuffed with snacks and drinks.

 Chapter 378

    Citrine slowed her pace, waiting for the others to catch up before asking, "Why are you carrying so much stuff?"

    She nced at the bulging backpack. "What on earth did you bring?"

    Sebastian shrugged. "Snacks, a camera, a nket, a few odds and ends."

    Citrine was about to tell him he really didn''t need to bring so much, but Sebastian cut in, "I looked up what people usually take to music festivals. Since we''ll be here for a while, you might get bored, so I figured I''d bring everything the inte suggested-just in case."

    Citrine fell silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. She wasn''t na?ve-she could tell Sebastian had gone out of his way to prepare for today.

    He really seemed to care.

    For the first time, Citrine found herself actually believing what Phipps had told her about him.

    Once they''d gotten inside and found a spot to sit, Citrine immediately felt the impact of Sebastian''s thoughtfulness.

    From the moment they settled down, Sebastian started unpacking: snacks, drinks, a nket to sit on, a portable charger-he had it all covered. He busied himself with the arrangements, refusing to let Citrine do a thing. She tried to help several times, but each attempt was gently turned down, so eventually she gave up.

    With music drifting through the air and a gentle evening breeze ruffling her hair, Citrine munched on snacks and let herself rx. It was bliss.

    Seeing how much Citrine was enjoying herself, Sebastian''s lips curled into a faint smile. "I brought my camera," he said. "Want me to take some photos for you?"

    "Of course!" Citrine replied without hesitation. What girl doesn''t like having her picture taken?

    She struck a few casual poses, nothing too deliberate or forced.

    Sebastian''s eyes never left her, snapping each shot with focused attention, capturing every fleeting expression.

    A beautiful girl always looks good on camera-especially someone like Citrine, who seemed wless from every angle.

    "These are perfect," Sebastian said atst, settling down next to her and scrolling through the photos one by one.

    Citrine had already suspected during the shoot that Sebastian''s photography skills were impressive, but seeing the final results still took her by surprise.

    "Every single one looks amazing." Citrine scrolled through the pictures, genuine amazement sparkling in her eyes.

    She didn''t hold back her praise. "You''re really talented with a camera."

    Sebastian gave a modest smile. "I''m d you like them."

    He didn''t mention how he''d spent all afternoon, aside from running errands, watching tutorials on portrait photography.

    Just then, a nearby couple overheard their conversation and wandered over.

    The girl was tall-about five-foot-seven-with striking features and an air of confidence. She wore a ck leather jacket, striding ahead with purpose, while her boyfriend, with soft features and a casual outfit, trailed behind her.

    Without any hesitation, the girl plopped down beside Citrine, looking her over with

    a friendly grin. "Hey, mind if I take a look at your photos?"

    Citrine blinked in surprise, unsure what the stranger wanted, but her tone sounded genuinely curious, not unfriendly.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Citrine said, handing over the camera.

    The leather-jacketed girl flipped through the photos and suddenly let out a piercing shriek.

    Not only Citrine, but even Sebastian and the girl''s boyfriend jumped at the sound.

    Before Citrine could ask what was wrong, the girl blurted out, "Oh my god-your boyfriend''s got some serious skills! He totally captured how gorgeous you are."

    Citrine and Sebastian both stared at her, momentarily speechless.

    After a beat, Citrine cleared her throat and exined, "Um... actually, you''ve got the wrong idea. We''re not a couple."

 Chapter 379

    The girl in the leather jacket shot them both a sly grin. "Oh, I get it, I get it. You two aren''t officially together yet, huh?"

    Before Citrine could say a word, the girl plowed on. "Sis, your boyfriend''s

    photography skills are amazing-seriously, this guy must have a degree in it or something."

    She leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "By the way, mind if I ask where you found your boyfriend? I''d like to get one for myself."

    Citrine just stared, momentarily speechless.

    Sebastian looked equally thrown.

    Even the leather jacket girl''s boyfriend, Bam, seemed to bristle. Did she think he was invisible?

    Citrine''s eye twitched. She turned to the girl and deadpanned, "He only sells retail, not wholesale, so I have no idea."

    That did it¡ªSylvia Watkins burst intoughter, nearly choking.

    "Oh my god, are you for real? You are way too cute." Tears of mirth sparkled in

    her eyes.

    Sebastian watched the scene unfold, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement.

    Still chuckling, Sylvia''s interest was clearly piqued. She leaned forward. "Hey, I''m Sylvia, and this is my boyfriend, Bam. What''s your name?"

    Citrine answered, "Citrine Carmichael. And this is Sebastian."

    For some reason, Sylvia found herself instantly drawn to this pretty,

    straightforward girl. She whipped out her phone and asked politely, "Can we exchange contacts?"

    "Sure." Citrine didn''t hesitate, pulling up her QR code.

    With that, the distance between them disappeared, and they felt more like old friends than new acquaintances.

    Sylvia was a natural at making friends. After they''d connected, she waved Bam over to move their stuff next to Citrine''s, and plopped herself down beside her.

    "Citrine, I''m honestly jealous you''ve got a boyfriend who can take decent photos." Sylvia scrolled through Citrine''s pictures with clear admiration. "You have no idea what I look like in my boyfriend''s camera roll." She shot Bam a fierce re. Bam swallowed hard, wisely keeping his mouth shut. After all, the evidence of his "crimes" was all in his phone.

    Citrine looked dubious. "Seriously? That bad?"

    Sylvia, with her sharp features and undeniable charisma, seemed the least likely person to take a bad photo. Citrine couldn''t even imagine what Sylvia meant by "that bad."

    "You''ll see for yourself." Sylvia heaved a dramatic sigh, then held out her hand. "Bam, give me your phone."

    Reluctantly, Bam surrendered his phone.

    Without missing a beat, Sylvia opened his gallery and began showing Citrine the photographic disasters one by one.

    The first picture: Sylvia''s hair was parted right down the middle, her tall, statuesque figure weirdlypressed so she looked more like five feet than five- eight.

    The second: Sylvia''s face was washed in an eerie green light, straight out of a horror film.

    The third: No Sylvia in sight-just a blurred, ghostly smear that could have been a person. Maybe.

    By the end, Citrine could only stare in disbelief.

    "... Honestly, these are even worse than I expected," she managed.

    Sylvia, wounded for the second time, red at Bam with mock outrage.

    "Bam, I swear, one day I''m going to murder you."

    Just then, a sharp scream echoed across the venue, drawing everyone''s attention for a moment.

    Despite their brief acquaintance, Citrine and Sylvia had left a good impression on each other.

    As they were leaving, Sylvia clung to Citrine''s arm, reluctant to say goodbye. "Citrine, can we hang out again sometime?"

    "Of course," Citrine replied with a smile. She genuinely liked Sylvia.

    Delighted with her answer, Sylvia suddenly remembered Citrine mentioning she was studying at Crestwood. "Hey, which university are you at? I''lle visit you when I''m free."

    Citrine replied casually, "Crestwood University."

    "What? Crestwood University?!" Sylvia stared at her, so shocked she nearly bit her tongue.

    "Did I hear you right?" She swallowed, still in disbelief.

 Chapter 380

    "That''s right, Crestwood University." Citrine repeated herself, still puzzled by the shock written all over Sylvia''s face.

    Sylvia let out an excited squeal. "Oh my gosh, Mom, I finally did something right- I made friends with one of Crestwood''s star students!"

    She''d always been an average student herself, and most of her friends had been just like her-spoiled kids who coasted along on their family''s money. Deep down, though, she genuinely admired people who actually excelled at academics.

    As they were leaving, Sylvia called out, "You wait, sis! Your big sister ising to find you soon!"

    Only after Sylvia left did Citrine realize how odd that sounded, but she didn''t dwell on it.

    After leaving the music festival, Citrine and Sebastian didn''t head straight home. The city lights were gorgeous, so they wandered for a while, taking in the night air together.

    That''s when Citrine suddenly noticed a restaurant. She''d eaten there once before -the kind of ce where a meal could set you back thousands. In a word: expensive.

    A thought struck her, and she abruptly stopped. Turning to Sebastian, she said, "I''m hungry."

    They say one clear sign a man is into you is his willingness to spend money on you.

    Sebastian stopped as well and looked down at her. "What do you feel like eating?"

    Citrine put on her best innocent face. "I''m craving a sd."

    The only sd ce nearby was the one she''d just spotted-the ridiculously overpriced one.

    Sebastian, as far as he knew, was just a broke college student working part-time to make ends meet. Any normal person in his position would have chosen a more affordable spot, not splurged on an expensive restaurant just for the view.

    Citrine eyed him closely, curious to see what he''d do.

    Sebastian nced around and, spotting the upscale restaurant, his eyes lit up. He didn''t hesitate. "There''s a ce right here. Let''s go."

    Citrine feigned uncertainty. "But... it''s really expensive."

    She watched him carefully, not letting a single flicker of his expression escape her.

    But Sebastian''s face remained calm.

    Finally, Citrine heard him say, "This ce is perfect. Don''t worry I''ve got it covered."

    As if afraid she''d feel guilty, Sebastian offered her a reassuring smile and softened his voice.

    This time, Citrine didn''t protest. She followed Sebastian inside.

    When the waiter handed them the menus, Sebastian didn''t even look at his-he just handed it straight to Citrine. "Order whatever you want."

    The prices were outrageous¡ªa single sd cost nearly two hundred dors. Citrine ordered a sd for herself, a steak for Sebastian, two drinks, and a couple of appetizers. The total came to well over seven hundred.

    Knowing Sebastian didn''t have much money, she didn''t go overboard. Once she thought she''d ordered enough, she passed the menu back to him.

    Sebastian nced at the list without much reaction, just a slight crease in his brow. "Is that really all? Will you have enough to eat?"

    Citrine hesitated. "Y-yeah... that''s plenty."

    But remembering the way she''d said she was hungry, looking so small and helpless, Sebastian added two more appetizers before passing the menu to the waiter.

    No money, but still willing to treat her to avish meal¡ªhe must really like her.

    Suddenly, Citrine realized what she''d done-she''d set a trap for herself. She wasn''t even that hungry; how on earth was she going to finish all this food? She started to worry.

    With her tiny appetite, it was inevitable. When everything arrived, Citrine only managed to finish her sd before she was full.

    In the end, most of the food ended up in Sebastian''s stomach.

 Chapter 381

    A few dayster, Sylvia organized a get-together, iming she wanted to introduce someone new. She invited several people from their usual circle.

    Truth be told, no one present seemed particrly interested in meeting this so- called new friend.

    Someone leaned in and whispered, "Sylvia, do you think Monica Saunders will show up tonight?"

    "Of course she''lle." Sylvia paused, shooting the speaker a frosty re, her words nearly grinding through clenched teeth.

    Silently, she rolled her eyes: Sycophants lining up just to curry favor with Monica.

    Sylvia''s family was well-off by Crestwood standards, but nowhere near the city''s true elite. The Saunders family, on the other hand, rivaled the Glenwoods- Crestwood''s most powerful dynasty. The only difference was that the Saunders kept a low profile and theirpany, C. Corp, never meddled in the local power games.

    Sylvia knew all too well that most of these so-called socialites only tolerated her because of Monica''s status, but she didn''t care. She was here for a good time, not their approval.

    Within minutes, Monica arrived.

    "You finally made it! I was starting to wonder if I''d have to beg you." Sylvia nearly tripped over herself in excitement, rushing over to drag Monica to her side.

    Monica had never liked people getting too close. With practiced ease, she stepped away, imed a spot on the couch, and said coolly, "So, who''s this friend you wanted me to meet?"

    Sylvia didn''t miss a beat. She nced at Monica, taking in the calm fa?ade of a woman who was the very picture of high society. With a dramatic roll of her eyes, she huffed, "Honestly, Monica, have you seen the look on your face? You could scare the life out of someone. Anyone would think I owed you a fortune."

    While Sylvia was all fiery temperament, Monica was the epitome ofposure. She nodded, lips quirking up just slightly. "I turned down a two-million-dor deal to be here today. So technically, you do owe me a fortune."

    Sylvia gaped at her, never having met anyone so shameless. The thought of sweet, gentle Citrine shed across her mind-what a contrast. The more she thought about it, the more annoyed she became. "Monica, have you got no shame?"

    Monica ignored her, scanning the room for the unfamiliar face.

    Sylvia caught on and rolled her eyes again. "Stop looking. She''s not here yet."

    Monica nced sideways at Sylvia, her tone casual. "You seem awfully invested in this friend."

    Sylvia raised her brows, grinning with pride. "Of course! She''s honestly the sweetest person-so gentle, so easy to get along with. Our energy just clicks."

    She was nothing if not confident: "Citrine is just one of those people everyone likes. I guarantee you''ll love her too."

    What is she, a stack of hundred-dor bills? Monica thought, lips curving into a slight, involuntary smile.

    "What''s so funny?" Sylvia''s brows drew together.

    Monica spoke slowly, "You said the exact same thing thest time you introduced me to a ''new friend.'' Only, I didn''te that time, and as I recall¡ª¡±

    She shot Sylvia a knowing look and added with a hint of amusement, "Do you remember how that ''friend'' nearly scammed you? Imagine¡ªa trust fund kid almost getting sold out by a con artist. Tell me, Ms. Watkins, have you learned your lesson?"

    Sylvia''s face darkened at the memory. That was a chapter she''d rather forget.

    Still, she stuck to her guns. "Citrine is definitely not a scammer. You''ll see when you meet her."

    Monica didn''t bother arguing. She was here now, and surely even Sylvia couldn''t make the same mistake twice.

    A few minutester, the door to the private lounge swung open.

    Everyone turned-and fell silent.

    Citrine stepped inside, her beauty so striking she seemed to light up the room. Wherever she went, it was impossible not to notice her.

 Chapter 382

    Someone leaned over to Sylvia and whispered, ¡°She''s gorgeous. Is she the new talent your family''s entertainmentpany just signed?"

    Sylvia beamed with pride. "Isn''t she stunning?"

    The girl nodded. "She''s even prettier than most celebrities."

    Then, lowering her voice, she asked, ¡°But seriously, is she really yourpany''s newest star?"

    Sylvia scoffed. "Not at all-don''t be ridiculous. She''s actually a top student at Crestwood University. She''s aiming for a research career."

    "No way. That''s incredible. She''s smart and beautiful? I''m so jealous."

    One of the guys just stared,pletely dazed. "Sylvia, since when did you know such a gorgeous girl? Why didn''t you introduce her to us sooner?"

    Sylvia nced at him, and her mind drifted to the person she''d seen standing beside Citrine that daypletely out of this guy''s league.

    She snorted with disdain. "She''s a star student at Crestwood. Have you looked in the mirrortely? Dream on, Prince Charming."

    Still not entirely reassured, she added pointedly, "She''s my friend, so don''t even think about trying anything."

    As Citrine walked in, she immediately noticed Monica sitting near Sylvia. Monica was staring at her, but Citrine didn''t seem bothered and acted as if she hadn''t noticed.

    From the moment Citrine entered, Monica''s sharp gaze had locked onto her.

    That was a beautiful face¡ªyet there was something oddly familiar about it.

    As Monica studied her, she felt an unexpected sense offort, almost a strange kinship.

    She thought to herself: She really is likable.

    Sylvia leaned in, whispering to Monica, "Well? Didn''t I tell you? Citrine''s not some scammer."

    Monica replied coolly, "Yeah, she''s definitely easier on the eyes than thest one."

    Sylvia grinned, then got up and walked over to Citrine, wrapping an arm around her and guiding her to sit down by her side.

    She turned to the group and announced, "Let me introduce you all-this is my new friend, Citrine Carmichael, a top student at Crestwood University."

    Citrine offered a polite greeting to everyone before taking her seat.

    Sylvia leaned over and asked quietly, "Hey, can you drink?"

    Citrine, a little unsure, nodded. "I can."

    With that, Sylvia dered, "Now that everyone''s here, let''s y a dice game!"

    Not wanting to get the straight-A student into trouble, Sylvia kept it simple. "Let''s just y high or low. We''ll roll the dice, and you guess if the total''s over half or under half. Get it wrong, you drink.¡±

    She turned to Citrine with a reassuring smile. ¡°That okay with you?"

    Citrine nodded. "Of course."

    The game began. There were eight of them, and they took turns rolling. "Citrine, you start us off," Sylvia said, handing her the dice.

    Citrine''s slender, fair hand picked up the cup and shook it a few times with effortless grace-enough to draw everyone''s attention.

    Next was Monica''s turn. Growing up abroad with a family that owned several casinos, Monica was no stranger to games of chance. In fact, she was easily the most skilled among them. This high-or-low game was child''s y for her-she could even tell the total by the sound of the dice.

    After Monica, it was Sylvia''s turn.

    Once everyone had rolled, it was time to call their guesses.

    Citrine: "High."

    Monica: "High."

    Sylvia: "Low."

    J: "High."

    And so on.

    Citrine was the first to reveal her cup. All five dice were sixes.

    Monica revealed hers: four, five, five, six, six.

    Both Citrine and Monica had called it perfectly and dodged the penalty drink.

    Only J and Sylvia were left to take a shot.

    They yed a few more rounds, and time after time, Citrine and Monica dominated the game. It was as if they had some secret advantage-neither of them touched a drop of alcohol, while everyone else inevitably found themselves reaching for their sses.

 Chapter 383

    "I was always getting my butt kicked by Monica before, but I figured that made

    sense-her family used to run a casino back in Europe."

    "But Citrine, you''re scary good, too!" Sylvia stared at her in disbelief.

    She leaned in and asked, "Citrine, have you had training or something?"

    Citrine shook her head with a calm smile. "Nope. But I can tell high and low rolls apart by ear."

    "You can actually pinpoint the exact numbers?" Sylvia''s eyes widened in astonishment.

    "Yes." Citrine nodded.

    Monica, intrigued, shot Citrine a few extra nces.

    She grabbed the cup in front of her, rattled the dice inside, set it down, and challenged, "Alright, tell me what''s under here."

    Citrine answered without hesitation, "Two, four, five, six, six."

    Monica''s gaze grew thoughtful. She lifted the cup-sure enough, it matched Citrine''s call exactly.

    She shook the dice again, and again, Citrine guessed every number without fail.

    Now Monica''s expression shifted entirely as she looked at Citrine.

    "You''re seriously impressive." There was genuine admiration in her voice.

    Citrine gave her a modest, unruffled smile. "Thanks. You''re not bad yourself."

    Monica fell silent.

    She knew she could only guess whether the total was high or low, never the exact numbers on each die. But Citrine was different-she could call every single one, no hesitation.

    "Have we met before?" Monica asked suddenly, catching Citrine off guard.

    It wasn''t just Citrine who was surprised-Sylvia nearly choked on her drink.

    "Ohe on, Monica, that''s such a cheesy line! Are you actually trying to hit on my friend?"

    Monica shot her a re, ignoring the joke and focusing on Citrine. "I mean it. You look really familiar-like I''ve seen you somewhere before."

    Citrine could tell Monica was being serious, so she searched her memory for any trace of this face, but nothing came up. "I really don''t think we''ve met," she said honestly.

    Monica nodded. "Yeah, must be my imagination."

    Butter, back at the Saunders estate, Monica suddenly realized why Citrine''s face had struck her as so familiar.

    A memory surfaced-someone who looked uncannily like Citrine.

    Her aunt. Yes, that was it-her aunt, when she was younger.

    Citrine''s features, her bone structure, they were the spitting image of her aunt''s in

    old photographs. Could Citrine actually be her long-lost cousin?

    Monica''s heart pounded with nerves and excitement.

    She grabbed her phone and called Sylvia right away.

    "Sylvia, do you know anything about Citrine''s family?"

    "Why are you asking?" Sylvia had just gotten home, and Monica''s question caught

    her off guard. Still, she answered honestly, "I''ve only known Citrine for a little while. It''s not like she''d tell me personal stuff like that."

    But Monica was desperate, her urgency slipping into her voice. "Are you sure? Anything at all? Please, just tell me what you know."

    "I really don''t know anything!" Sylvia insisted.

    Sensing Monica''s anxiety, Sylvia grew concerned. "Monica, what''s going on? Why the sudden interest in Citrine''s family?"

    "She looks so much like my aunt did when she was young. I think...she might be my cousin."

    For years, the Saunders family had been searching for her aunt''s daughter. They''d never stopped.

    After her cousin disappeared, Monica''s aunt had be a shadow of her former self-her grief turning into obsession, her behavior growing more and more erratic with each passing year.

    If her aunt''s daughter could be found, Monica was sure it would finally bring her some peace.

    Sylvia could hardly believe what she was hearing. "Come on, there are plenty of people who look alike in this world. It can''t be that much of a coincidence, right?"

    "It''s more than just a passing resemnce." Monica didn''t want to believe it either, but the simrity was undeniable.

    Sylvia paused, then offered, "I have Citrine''s contact info. I''ll send it to you."

    After the call ended, Monica braced herself and headed down to the basement, nerves jangling.

 Chapter 384

    As Monica rounded the corner, the sharp crack of a whip echoed down the hallway, eachsh punctuated by muffled grunts of pain and the sickening sound of flesh splitting open.

    In the Saunders family, her aunt''s violent outbursts were nothing new. Monica had grown up with them-yet, no matter how many times she witnessed these scenes, the fear never truly left her.

    She swallowed hard, forcing her legs to move forward, steeling herself.

    "Aunt Hilda." Monica kept her head bowed, her voice barely above a whisper.

    At twenty-six, she was long past childhood, but the icy fear she felt in front of her aunt was bone-deep-something she''d never shaken off.

    Hilda Saunders looked every bit the queen of her empire. Reclining on a sleek ck leather sofa, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, she exuded authority and effortless style. Her crimson lips curled around a slim cigarette, smoke driftingzily in the air, messy waves of dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. No one would ever guess she was thirty-eight; her allure was striking, ageless, and impossible to ignore.

    Monica had seen her aunt countless times, but still, every encounter left her a little awestruck.

    As Monica spoke, Hilda''s eyes turned cial, her tone edged with biting impatience. "Who told you toe down here without my say-so?"

    "Did you already forget what I told you?"

    Without waiting for an answer, she tightened her grip on the whip and swung it hard, thesh whistling through the air before it struck Monica''s exposed arm.

    Hilda''s blows were merciless. Monica''s skin split open, pain searing through her nerves. She staggered to the floor, biting back a cry, but even then she managed a shaky apology. "I''m sorry, Aunt Hilda."

    Hilda didn''t even bother to look at her, only sneering, ¡°Useless. Have you forgotten everything I taught you?"

    Gritting her teeth, Monica forced herself up, and only then did she see the man crumpled on the floor beside her. He was a bloody mess, every inch of exposed skin battered and torn, barely clinging to consciousness.

    Monica''s eyes widened in rm. She dropped to her knees, pleading, "Aunt Hilda, please you can''t keep doing this. If you go on, Wade Saunders will die."

    ¡°He''ll live,¡± Hilda replied coolly, not sparing her nephew a nce.

    Wade, barely conscious, managed to lift his head at Monica''s words. Through split lips, he muttered, "Monica, don''t. I deserve this. Aunt Hilda''s right to punish me."

    Hilda let out a coldugh, but said nothing more.

    Monica recognized the warning signs-her aunt''s silence was always more dangerous than her words. She didn''t dare push her luck further.

    The Saunders family tree stretched back generations. Monica''s grandfather, Herschel, and grandmother, Inez, had three sons-Mack, Levi, and Nigel¡ªand one daughter, Hilda. Even as a child, Hilda outshone her brothers in intelligence, a prodigy destined for more. As she grew, her talent for business became impossible to ignore. Herschel and Inez adored their daughter, and when it came time to choose the next head of the family, they entrusted everything to her.

    It was a decision they never regretted. The moment Hilda took control, she transformed the Saunders legacy, cementing their ce at the top of Crestwood society. Under her leadership, their business empire flourished, and in the eyes of the city, the Saunders family became a dynasty-untouchable, unshakable.

    Hilda was the matriarch now, the unquestioned authority. Not even her aging parents dared to challenge her anymore. In part, they pitied her¡ªshe''d lost her own child, and their hearts ached for her-so they turned a blind eye, never interfering in her decisions, whether in business or in her personal life.

    Monica nced at her aunt, noticing the familiar arch of her brow-the same stubborn line she''d seen in the mirror.

    She took a deep breath, summoning her courage. "Aunt Hilda, I think I''ve found my little sister."

    The words hit like a thunderp. Hilda''s face went white, the whip slipping from her grasp tond in a pool of blood on the floor.

    Wade, battered and barely conscious, jerked upright at the sound. His voice trembled with hope and disbelief. "You mean... she''s alive?"

 Chapter 385

    Ever since Hilda lost her daughter, every single day had felt like an ordeal she was forced to endure.

    Over the years, she''d torn Crestwood apart, searching every corner, yet not even a trace of her daughter had surfaced.

    So when Monica spoke now, Hilda''s first reaction was fear.

    She''d been disappointed so many times already-each rumor, every glimmer of hope, had dissolved into nothing. Again and again, hope only led to heartbreak.

    Monica spoke tentatively. "Aunt Hilda, that girl... she really looks like you."

    Hilda''s face had flickered with a brief spark of hope, but at Monica''s words, her eyes darkened. ¡°Looks mean nothing," she said tly.

    Too many times she''d seen girls who bore some resemnce to her, only for each meeting to end in disappointment.

    "But Aunt Hilda, she''s nothing like the others we''ve found before," Monica insisted. "Her eyes, her features-they''re almost identical to yours. If you''d just see her "

    Before Monica could finish, Hilda''s patience snapped. "That''s enough. Both of you -get out."

    Monica had wanted to press on, but seeing Hilda''s stormy expression-so close to boiling over-she bit her tongue.

    Her aunt''s lost daughter was the family''s deepest wound, and Hilda''s most sensitive spot. Monica understood that pushing any further would only reopen old pain.

    She pressed her lips together, then helped Wade up from the floor, and together they left.

    As they emerged from the basement, they finally escaped that suffocating sense of dread.

    Monica and Wade both let out long sighs of relief.

    Wade, wincing from his injuries, turned to Monica, his eyes searching. "Monica, what you said back there-did you mean it?"

    He sounded breathless with hope. "You really think we''ve found her?"

    Monica was silent for a moment, then nodded earnestly. "I can''t be sure yet, but this time... I really think we''re right."

    "Where is she? Take me to her," Wade blurted out, a surge of excitement in his voice.

    His little sister had been the family''s hope, loved even before she was born. Just the thought of finding her again sent adrenaline rushing through Wade''s veins. Monica eyed the bruises and cuts on Wade''s body, rolling her eyes dramatically. "You really think you''re in any shape to go anywhere?"

    She let out a short, unsympatheticugh. "Why don''t you focus on healing first? You don''t want to scare her off by looking like a disaster."

    Wade nodded, conceding the point.

    Monica nced at him, suddenly curious. "What did you do this time, anyway? Aunt Hilda really let you have it."

    Wade waved her off, his face full of grievance. "Don''t even ask. Last time, I got in that street race with Quentin''s crew, and things went south fast. Almost totaled the car. I tried to hide it, but I have no idea how Aunt Hilda found out."

    Monica rolled her eyes again, this time with genuine exasperation. "Serves you right. If I''d known, I wouldn''t have stuck up for you just now. Maybe she should''ve finished the job."

    She gave him a yful shove. "Now get out of here and go rest.¡±

    A monthter, the Titan Showdown National Finals were held in Crestwood.

    Thepetition was fierce-high stakes, a hefty cash prize, and every team was a champion from their own state. The excitement was palpable.

    Yet, in the midst of the chaos, Quentin and his team lounged around their section of the arena, munching on chips and cracking jokes,pletely at ease.

    One of his teammates massaged his shoulders, showering him with praise. "Quentin, with you on our squad, this is in the bag. When ites to esports, nobody''s ever been a match for you-not since we were kids."

 Chapter 386

    Quentin''s lips curled into a smirk as he shot a cold nce across the field at Wade. His tone was taunting. "I don''t care how you do it, just make sure that bastard Wade loses-badly."

    Last time, Wade had beaten him in the race. This time, at the national finals, Quentin was determined to grind the guy into the dust.

    A teammate, eager to please, beamed as he pped Quentin on the back. "Don''t worry, Quentin. Wade doesn''t stand a chance against you."

    Meanwhile, Wade happened to look Quentin''s way. He raised an eyebrow, and without missing a beat, flipped Quentin the middle finger. Then, grinning, he silently mouthed something in Quentin''s direction.

    Someone on Quentin''s team whispered, "What did he say? Sounded like some kind of proverb or something."

    "Shut up," Quentin snapped, his expression dark. He ignored the question, but he knew exactly what Wade had mouthed: "Loser."

    That son of a bitch.

    On Wade''s side, he wasughing. "Look at him fuming over there. Careful, or he''ll give himself an ulcer."

    The rest of Wade''s team burst outughing, some nearly doubled over.

    Curry ck was grinning ear to ear. "Man, Wade, you''ve got a wicked tongue."

    Wade just shrugged, unbothered. "Can you me me? Quentin''s a jerk and deserves every bit of it."

    Curry fiddled with his handheld game console and said, "You beat Quentin in thest race, so he''s probably been stewing ever since. Now you''re going out of your way to join thispetition just to mess with him. I''ve got a feeling things between you two are only going to get uglier."

    Wade shrugged again, clearly unconcerned. "Let them. I couldn''t care less. As far as I''m concerned, that guy''s my sworn enemy."

    He added, "This time, I''m going to beat him for sure."

    Curry paused, his expression shifting slightly. "Honestly, Quentin''s a pro when ites to gaming. Winning against him won''t be easy."

    Then something seemed to ur to him. "Actually, I''ll bet neither of you will win this time."

    "Why''s that?" Wade shot upright, eyeing Curry with confusion.

    Curry replied, "Haven''t you heard? The top-ranked yer is entering the finals this year. You really think either of you stands a chance?"

    Wade stared at him, stunned. "You mean CrimsonFirst?"

    He wasn''t even that good at this particr game; he''d only signed up to annoy Quentin. But even so, he knew the legends about Crimson First-world number one, a name everyone in the e-sports scene recognized. The guy''s builds and tactics were still trending online, basically the gold standard forpetitive y. "Yeah, that Crimson First," Curry confirmed.

    Wade whistled low. "No way. That guy never bothers with tournaments like this. Why''s heing out now?"

    Curry recalled something he''d read online. "Word is, CrimsonFirst''s older brother is a huge e-sports fan. Rumor has it, he''s entering the tournament to help his brother fulfill his dream."

    Wade let out a slow breath. "Well, that settles it. Quentin''s definitely not getting the world championship this time." He didn''t really care about the title himself-as long as Quentin didn''t win, he was happy.

    Curry just shook his head.

    For as long as anyone could remember, Quentin and Wade had been notorious rivals. No matter what one of them did, the other was always there to stir up trouble or crash the party. After all these years, nothing had changed.

 Chapter 387

    By now, every team had entered battle mode. yers huddled together,

    discussing possible tactics their opponents might use and brainstorming ways to counter them.

    The tension in the room was palpable, as if everyone was about to sit for a life-or- death exam.

    All except for Citrine''s team, whose entire vibe stood out like a sore thumb.

    While the other teams were on edge, Citrine loungedfortably in a plush chair, idly snacking. In front of her was a spread of snacks and fruit-everything Travis had bought-chips, chocte, berries, grapes, apple slices; you name it, the table had it.

    Travis sat beside her, methodically peeling an orange and a grapefruit, making sure every bit of pith was gone. Once he''d finished, he pulled out a small cutting board and a paring knife, slicing the fruit into perfect segments and arranging them neatly on a te. He set it in front of Citrine and, with a grin, offered her a piece on the tip of a toothpick. "Open up, Citrine."

    Citrine opened her mouth without a second thought and took the fruit, chewing contentedly.

    And it wasn''t just Travis doting on her. Sylvan, Carney, and Springer were all busy as well-one kneading Citrine''s shoulders, another fussing over her like a worried mother, and thest clowning around in front of her with exaggerated antics, doing whatever he could to make herugh.

    Compared to the tense atmosphere elsewhere, Citrine''s squad looked like they were at a casual Sunday pic. The contrast couldn''t have been starker. Meanwhile, Curry, watching from a short distance away, took in the entire scene. He nudged Wade, who was glued to his phone, scrolling through analysis of Crimson First''s tactics. "Look at that girl," Curry whispered.

    Wade nced up, thinking Curry was checking someone out. He looked over at the girl, gave her a once-over, and though she was turned to the side-offered a verdict. "That profile is top-tier. Bet she''s even prettier face-on. Not bad, man. Good taste."

    Curry rolled his eyes and rified, "No, I mean, look at how rxed that team is. And that girl-her teammates are doting on her like she''s royalty."

    Wade looked again. Sure enough, the girl was being hand-fed by her teammate while three others hovered around her, each trying to outdo the others in service and entertainment.

    To Wade, it looked exactly like the setup for some over-the-top romance drama¡ª four guys, one girl, all vying for her attention. He didn''t expect to see it y out in real life.

    He quickly looked away, his expression full of disdain. "Those guys are making us all look bad," he muttered. "No way in hell would I ever debase myself like that for a woman."

    Curry just shrugged. After all, Wade was a Saunders-born with thatst name, he''d never have to grovel for any woman''s approval.

    Wade nced back at Citrine''s team and scoffed, "Want to bet? That bunch of lovesick puppies will be the first ones knocked out."

    "No doubt about it," Curry agreed, shaking his head. He didn''t think much of Citrine''s squad, either.

    At nine sharp, the tournament kicked off. Champions from every state took the stage in order.

    Wade waited through an hour of matches, until finally it was his team''s turn. But as soon as they stepped onto the stage, he froze. Of all the teams they could face, their opponents were none other than the infamous four-guys-one-girl group from earlier.

    What happened next surprised Wade even more.

    Every finalist here was a rising star in their own right, with some degree of online fame. But the moment Citrine stepped onto the stage, the crowd erupted in cheers.

    "CrimsonFirst!"

    "Let''s go CrimsonFirst!"

    "My goddess, you''re incredible!"

    "I flew here just to see you-go, goddess, go!"

    The stands shook with excitement. Everywhere Wade looked, fans were screaming for CrimsonFirst.

    Citrine stood on stage, lips curled into a bright smile. She raised her hand and waved to the audience.

    "Ah! She waved at me!" someone shrieked from the crowd.

 Chapter 388

    "Goddess, I love you!"

    "You got this, goddess!"

    "Goddess for the win!"

    "Make sure to crush the other team so hard they run for their lives!"

    ...

    Wade: "..." Excuse me, is this really considered polite?

    Curry and the rest of the squad: "..

    11 ...

    The arena was a storm of cheers, the noise rolling and echoing without end. The crowd''s energy was so overwhelming, even the gamementator couldn''t help butugh, "No wonder Crimson First is ranked number one. That kind of poprity rivals any celebrity."

    Wade and Curry exchanged bewildered nces. Of all people, they never would''ve guessed the most unassuming girl on their team was CrimsonFirst.

    CrimsonFirst was her? Wasn''t that supposed to be a guy?

    This innocent face, the picture of harmlessness, had gone absolutely feral in the finals. Who would have thought that behind the softest, sweetest smile lurked the deadliest sharpshooter in the whole game?

    But as impressive as the CrimsonFirst title was, what really shook Wade to his core right now was seeing Citrine up close.

    He''d only caught a glimpse of her in profile before. Now, with nothing between them, he finally saw her face clearly-and found himself utterly stunned.

    The resemnce was uncanny.

    She looked exactly like his aunt had at that age.

    Wade stared at Citrine, visibly rattled, something raw flickering in his eyes.

    Travis, noticing the stranger''s intense gaze on his little sister, red back, bristling with protectiveness. He stepped forward, subtly shifting so Citrine was behind him.

    The moment his view was blocked, Wade''s face fell. Suddenly, he didn''t care that they were still in the middle of thepetition. He marched right over to Travis and, without warning, shoved him hard. Travis, caughtpletely off guard, stumbled back several steps.

    Citrine darted forward, steadying Travis from behind, then stepped in front of him, coldly facing Wade. Her voice was icy, her warning clear: "You''re not allowed to bully my brother."

    "But I''m your brother," Wade shot back, his voice dropping, hurt flickering across his face.

    So this is what it feels like the greatest distance in the world is standing right in front of your own sister, and she has no idea who you are.

    Citrine stared at him, baffled, as if she were looking at a lunatic.

    Travis, touched that his sister had stepped up to defend him, felt a swell of emotion. But he was the older brother here he should be the one protecting her.

    So, gathering himself, Travis moved in front of Citrine again, shielding her. He tapped his temple and said to her, "Citrine, this guy''s got a screw loose. Just ignore him."

    "Who are you calling crazy?!" Wade exploded, practically hopping mad as he raised his fist, ready to strike.

    But just as he was about to swing, he caught sight of Citrine''s wary eyes watching him.

    Is she scared of me? Did I just freak her out?

    Great, he thought. Absolutely great. Way to ruin a first impression.

    Regret hit him like a punch to the gut, and he let his fist drop, suddenly deted and miserable.

    Head down, Wade forced himself to calm down. Then, with uncharacteristic caution, he looked up at Citrine and said softly, "I know this sounds impossible, but please, just listen to me. I really am your brother-your real brother. And you''re my little sister¡ªI''ve been looking for you for years."

    Wade rubbed his hands together nervously. For someone who usually didn''t take crap from anyone, he was downright anxious now.

    Citrine stared at him, stunned, but before she could say a word, Travis jumped in.

    Fighting the urge to throw a punch, Travis gritted his teeth and snapped, "Bullshit! Citrine is my sister."

    "And who the hell are you to try and take my sister from me?"

    It wasn''t even about his own feelings-he knew the entire Carmichael family would never ept this. If anyone found out that, while he was supposed to be taking care of Citrine at this tournament, she''d suddenly gained some random new brother out of nowhere, he''d be dead meat for sure.

 Chapter 389

    Wade ignored Travis, his gaze pinned intently on Citrine. His voice was oddly earnest, "Sis, I really am your brother."

    The resemnce was uncanny. Her face was almost a perfect copy of their aunt''s there was no mistaking it. She was absolutely their aunt''s child.

    Wade stared at Citrine, unable to hide his excitement. "Come home with me. The family will be over the moon to know you''re alive."

    Travis''s scowl deepened, and as soon as he heard Wade''s words, he lost his cool. "Go home? Are you out of your mind?"

    He jabbed a finger at Wade, bristling with anger. "Listen, Citrine is my sister. If you even think about messing with her, I swear, you''ll answer to me."

    He''d barely settled into his ce as Citrine''s real brother after those two fake foster brothers finally left, and now, out of nowhere, this lunatic pops up iming to be her sibling. Just his luck.

    Just as it looked like a fight was about to break out, the event host, worried things would get out of hand, quickly stepped in with a cating tone.

    "Gentlemen, there''s a huge audience here today. If there are any

    misunderstandings, perhaps you can settle them after thepetition. Now''s really not the time."

    Realizing this wasn''t the moment to start trouble, Wade pressed his lips together and forced himself to back off.

    "You just wait." He shot Travis a murderous re before stalking off to join his own team at thepetition area.

    Meanwhile, Citrine and Travis took their seats with the rest of their group.

    Neither of them took Wade''s ims seriously. To them, he was just some random nutcase spouting nonsense.

    But on the other side of the arena, Wade''s mood was as dark as thunderclouds. The way Citrine had called another man "brother" gnawed at him, and he was so distracted, he barely noticed Quentin.

    Curry, noticing Wade''s foul mood, frowned and nudged him. "What the hell was that back there? You don''t even know that girl¡ªokay, CrimsonFirst calls her ¡®sis,'' but you were about to throw hands with her real brother. I could barely hold you back."

    Wade, already strung tight, snapped, "Real brother? That''s my sister-my own flesh and blood!"

    Curry blinked, baffled. "But you''re an only child-where''d this ''sister''e from?"

    Wade pressed his lips together, his voice rough. "She''s my aunt''s daughter." In his mind, that made her his true sister.

    Curry, who''d grown up with Wade and knew more than most about his family, was stunned.

    He hesitated, then wisely decided not to press further.

    Everyone in Crestwood knew about the Saunders family''s lost princess. She wasn''t just the family''s soft spot-she was a living taboo, a name people had learned to never utter.

    A few years ago, at a high-society party, some rich kid with more money than sense made a crack about the lost Saunders girl, saying, "Come on, after all these years, she''s got to be dead by now." Somehow, that remark got back to Hilda. The very next day, the boy''s family business went bankrupt, and they skipped town overnight. No one''s seen them since.

    There were other stories, too. At a private gathering once, someone merely mentioned the Saunders family''s missing girl in passing, and the next day he wound up with a broken leg.

    It was the same at C. Corp-any employee caught whispering about the lost Saunders daughter would be lucky to just resign quietly. Others faced disasters- from ruined families to sudden "idents."

    After all that, for years, no one in Crestwood dared speak the Saunders family princess''s name again.

 Chapter 390

    Over the past few years, Hilda had grown more and more unhinged. No one

    dared cross her-after all, the Saunders family had money and power to burn. If you got on Hilda''s bad side, you might not even know what hit you.

    The Currys, on the other hand, were just wealthy second-generation kids in Crestwood; they didn''t have the clout to be considered true elites. Out in the world, Curry still had to tread carefully.

    Just then, the match officially began.

    As team captain, Citrine gave calm, precise instructions to her squad. Meanwhile, Wade''s team looked like they were just there for the experience, with zero strategy to speak of. What was even stranger, Wade spent the entire opening round glued to Travis, targeting him and only him. It was tant¡ªhe was out for Travis, and everyone could see it.

    It didn''t take long for Citrine''s team to catch on to Wade''s fixation. Citrine frowned and reminded Travis, "Keep your cool, big bro."

    Travis was already burning with frustration, but Citrine''s words helped him rein it in and focus.

    But Wade was relentless, like a dog with a bone-he simply wouldn''t let Travis go.

    Trying to watch his team''s back while fending off Wade''s attacks, Travis soon found himself stretched too thin.

    At that critical moment, Citrinended a clean shot, knocking Wade out of the game.

    With one teammate down, the rest of Curry''s squad started to lose their nerve. It wasn''t long before they were all eliminated, one after another.

    The round was over almost as soon as it had begun.

    When Wade left the stage, his face was a stormcloud-a closer look revealed a trace of wounded pride.

    All he could think about was the moment his own sister had taken him out with a headshot.

    What stung the most was that she''d done it for someone else. Wade found that hard to swallow.

    Meanwhile, Quentin, watching from the audience, could hardly believe his eyes.

    He''d recognized Citrine instantly. Thest time he''d seen her, she was just a high school kid. Now, she''d returned as CrimsonFirst, sitting at the very top of the rankings.

    As today''sst two undefeated yers, Quentin and Citrine would face off for the championship in the finals.

    At lunch, Quentin made a point of heading over to Citrine''s team.

    Travis and the others were nowhere to be seen; Citrine was sitting alone.

    Quentin didn''t bother with pleasantries-he dropped into the seat across from her.

    "Well, well. We meet again, troublemaker." He tapped his fingers against the edge of her chair.

    Citrine was so absorbed in her phone she barely noticed him at first. Looking up, she recognized him immediately and thought, Just my luck.

    Quentin wore his trademark cocky grin. "Guess I should introduce myself. I''m the captain of Team Nine. We''ll be facing off for the championship this afternoon."

    "Okay." Citrine''s reply was nonchnt, her tone cool. Then, barely ncing at him, she asked, "So what''s your point?"

    Quentin snorted, all swagger. "You may be Crimson First, but the world title''s mine. That''s a promise."

    Citrine paused for a moment, then seemed to remember something amusing. With a sly smile, she said, "Honestly, I think you''re better suited to being the streaking champion."

    She was, of course, referring to that infamous video that had gone viral-a battered and bruised Quentin, wearing nothing but his underwear, running for cover while the inte exploded with memes. Citrine hadn''t forgotten, even though people hadn''t brought it up in ages.

    Quentin had assumed the whole fiasco had been buried and forgotten-until Citrine brought it up now, right to his face.

 Chapter 391

    The memories he''d tried to bury surged back and struck him like a punch.

    Quentin''s expression darkened instantly; he looked genuinely rattled, his voice tight with anger. "Don''t you dare bring that up."

    That incident was the biggest embarrassment of his life¡ªhe''d never live it down.

    Seeing how upset he was, Citrine felt a wicked thrill. Smiling sweetly, she twisted the knife: "The inte never forgets. Andst I checked, it''s my mouth-I''ll say what I like."

    "Streaking Champion." She waggled her eyebrows at him, repeating the title with gleeful malice.

    "You little brat, do you want me to knock some sense into you?" Quentin hated it when anyone mentioned his most humiliating moment. Now his face was thunderous, all but livid.

    As for the jerk who''d ripped his clothes off and punched him, no less-he''d better hope Quentin never found him. If he did, he''d make him pay.

    "Go ahead. Try it." Citrine shot him a cool, unimpressed look, utterly unfazed. Not just Quentin-ten of him wouldn''t be a match for her.

    Every time Quentin crossed paths with this sharp-tongued menace, he ended up speechless. She was his kryptonite, in and simple.

    "See you in the arena," he spat, shooting her a venomous re before stalking back to join his team.

    Citrine didn''t bother with a reply; she just waved at him, a mocking little goodbye. But the second he turned away, her eyes turned cold.

    In her previous life, Quentin''s greatest pride had been his gaming talent. If her memory was correct, it was Quentin''s team that had taken home the world championship.

    Too bad for him, because this time, she waspeting and he didn''t stand a chance.

    She almost couldn''t wait to see Quentin''s face when he lost. Just the thought made her pulse race with anticipation.

    Today, she''d show Quentin just how worthless his so-called talent really was.

    A slow, confident smile curled her lips. In her eyes was a glint of certainty¡ªas if the whole world was already in the palm of her hand.

    After lunch, it was time for the final showdown. Citrine''s team and Quentin''s team took the stage together, each sizing the other up, neither willing to back down.

    From the audience, fans erupted into cheers, each side rooting passionately for their favorites.

    Meanwhile, in the crowd, Curry leaned over and whispered to Wade, "Who do you think is going to win?"

    Wade''s eyes never left Citrine. The more he looked, the prouder he seemed. "Is that even a question? Of course my sister''s going to win."

    He added, with a disdainful sniff, "Quentin? Please. He''s not even in her league." Curry fell silent. He got it now-Wade was a full-blown sister fanatic.

    Rolling his eyes, Curry ignored him and focused on the massive screen above the stage.

    The match began. Citrine, rifle in hand, led her squad with ruthless precision, taking down the game''s low, mid, and high-level bosses in record time. She upgraded everyone''s gear to the best avable and stockpiled a mountain of supplies.

    Then, following Citrine''s carefullyid n, each teammate split off for their assigned sniper positions.

    As for Citrine, she slipped away alone toward Team Nine''s base.

    At that moment, Team Nine was still scrambling to upgrade their equipment. Citrine struck before they could react, taking out their toughest bosses and destroying their most valuable resources.

    The audience sat in stunned silence as the scene unfolded on the big screen.

    "No way... You can actually y like that?" someone gasped.

 Chapter 392

    "That was savage, but I''ve got to admit, it was insanely satisfying to watch."

    "You have to hand it to CrimsonFirst-their scouting and counter-surveince skills are unreal. She walked right into enemy territory, took on the boss solo, and grabbed all the supplies. That takes guts. I''ve always wanted to try something like that, but I just don''t have the skills. I''d get sniped before I even made it into enemy lines. Seriously, she''s incredible."

    "Talk about having real talent."

    "Is she trying to wipe out Team Nine single-handedly?"

    "Honestly, is Team Nine even paying attention? It''s like they''re ying on autopilot. All their supplies got trashed and not one of them noticed anything was wrong."

    Meanwhile, on Team Nine''s side, Quentin and Kemp had already checked several warehouses with no luck. The supplies were gone, and what was even stranger- they hadn''t run into a single boss along the way.

    A sense of unease gnawed at Kemp. After a while, he couldn''t keep it in anymore. "Quentin, something''s off. We haven''t seen a single boss this whole time."

    Quentin''s face was grim. He had a sinking suspicion, but couldn''t quite bring himself to say it. Instead, he quickly radioed the rest of the team. "Do any of you have enough supplies left?"

    One by one, the other three answered.

    "Don''t even ask. We don''t even have a decent gun-just these useless slingshots."

    "We haven''t seen a single boss the whole run."

    "If I didn''t know better, I''d swear someone from the other team sneaked into our territory."

    Quentin''s frown deepened. In all his years gaming, he''d nevere across anything this bizarre.

    He told himself it was impossible for the opposing team to have infiltrated their area so quickly. Besides, even making it in would have meant taking out so many bosses along the way. Logically, it just didn''t add up¡ªno one had aim that good. But the facts were right in front of him: all their supplies and all the bosses guarding them had vanished without a trace. The only exnation that made sense was that someone from the other team had slipped in.

    The crowd watching couldn''t stopughing.

    "Is Team Nine for real?"

    "Do they even need to wonder? Of course someone from the other team infiltrated their sector."

    Down in the yers'' lounge, Wade was doubled over withughter, barely able to catch his breath. Between fits of giggles, he managed to curse, "Quentin''s a moron. Does this even require thinking? Has he lost his mind?"

    Then, puffing up with pride, he bragged, "My sister is amazing. That move was genius. She''s a true Saunders-born for this."

    Curry shot him a wry look. "Don''t you think your sister''s tactic was... a little ruthless? After this match, Quentin and his team are going to be aughingstock internationally. That''s some serious grudge."

    Wade couldn''t stand anyone talking bad about his sister. His smile vanished, and he snapped, "What are you talking about? There was nothing ruthless about it. It''s Quentin''s team that''s as dumb as a sack of rocks."

    He added, "Looking back, my sister actually went easy on us when we yed against her. She could have embarrassed us just as badly, but she didn''t¡ª because she cares about me. She didn''t want to see me upset."

    Just thinking about it made Wade a little emotional.

    Curry nodded slowly, as if he''d just been convinced. Honestly,pared to the disaster that was Team Nine, their own loss seemed almost dignified.

 Chapter 393

    Faced with the situation, Quentin gave the order: "Team Nine, everyone out. Hunt the boss, get geared up."

    What he didn''t realize was that, from this very moment, his team was already doomed.

    Citrine had anticipated Team Nine''s move from the start. She and her squad were already in position, lying in wait at their chosen vantage points, ready to catch Team Nine in their crosshairs.

    Meanwhile, Team Nine charged ahead,pletely oblivious to the trap that had been set for them.

    Citrine stood on the top floor of an abandoned factory, calmly surveying Team Nine''s every move through her binocrs. As the enemy yers crept into range, she curled her lips into a cool smile and spoke into her headset, her voice steady: "Targets in range. Line up your shots. Thirty seconds-fire all at once. Aim for the head. Don''t miss."

    Her four teammates answered in unison, "Copy."

    Team Nine, still blissfully unaware of the danger, followed Quentin into the heart of the battlefield. As they reached the open center, a sudden realization flickered across Quentin''s face. He nced up at the high points scattered nearby, his expression shifting in an instant.

    "Damn, it''s a trap-!"

    But it was already toote.

    He didn''t even finish the sentence before a hail of bullets tore through the air, each one aimed with deadly precision at their heads.

    Bang-

    The sound was deafening, but perfectly synchronized.

    Five bullets found their marks at the exact same moment, piercing through five helmets. Team Nine dropped instantly, their health bars plummeting from full to zero in a heartbeat-taken out with surgical precision.

    A split-secondter, the game''s announcer chimed in: "Perfect pentakill!

    Headshots all around! Team Nine, eliminated!"

    The crowd erupted into thunderous apuse, voices rising above the noise:

    "Oh my god, CrimsonFirst is incredible! I love her!"

    "She makes it look so easy-seriously, did you see that move?"

    "Her whole team is amazing, too. Such perfect teamwork. They''re all sharpshooters!"

    "Those highlight reels online didn''t even do her justice-Crimson First went easy in practice matches, but today she showed her true colors."

    "She took down half the map''s bosses by herself. Is she even human? She''s a total legend."

    "If I''m not mistaken, didn''t two of Team Nine''s yers still have a slingshot and a bow at the end?"

    "Ha! You''re not wrong, I saw it too. What a joke-Team Nine just became the year''s biggest meme in esports."

    "They didn''t even get a chance to shoot back before being wiped out. That''s gotta sting."

    "Never seen a pro match where an entire team got eliminated before even finding decent weapons."

    ¡°That''s just humiliating. If I were Team Nine, I''d want to crawl under the table and nevere out."

    "My sister is amazing! She made Quentin''s team look like fools. I could watch this all day!" Wade wasughing so hard he had tears streaming down his face. During the match, he was easily the loudest in the room, practically needing a microphone to broadcast his excitement.

    "Bastards." Quentin''s face was thunderous.

    He stared at the words GAME OVER on the screen, jaw clenched so tight it looked like his teeth might crack.

    Being yed like a fool in front of everyone, the humiliation burned itself deep into his chest a shame he''d never live down.

    He''d always thought the most humiliating moment of his life was that party, when he''d been beaten up, stripped, and tossed out in front of everyone. But now, he''d found something even worse.

 Chapter 394

    Thistest fiasco hadpletely destroyed Quentin''s already shaky reputation as a Crestwood rich kid.

    She did it on purpose. That damn girl must''ve done it on purpose.

    A deep wave of humiliation crashed over him, and Quentin''s eyes burned red with fury. In a split second, he lost control and mmed his fist down hard on the keyboard.

    A deafening bang echoed through the room.

    "Mr. Aldridge..." The host, visibly shaken, stumbled backward a few steps, his voice trembling with fear.

    Then, as if remembering who exactly he was dealing with, the host hurried back the way he''de, nervously fetching a brand-new keyboard from behind the stage.

    He spoke in the gentlest tone he could muster. "Mr. Aldridge, I know losing so badly must feel awful. I understand why you''re upset."

    "What the hell did you just say? Who''s awful?" Quentin''s anger reignited in an instant. He shot to his feet, ring at the host and jabbing a finger at him menacingly.

    The host lookedpletely bewildered, with no idea what he''d said wrong.

    After a moment''s hesitation, he carefully set the new keyboard down beside Quentin and shed an awkward, cating smile.

    "Mr. Aldridge, you see, this keyboard''s already broken-I brought you a new one. It''s top of the line, practically indestructible. I''m sure it''ll help you vent your... frustration after today''s, um, rough match."

    Quentin: "..." What the actual hell is this guy saying?

    He was already furious. Now, with the host pouring gasoline on the fire, he was about to explode.

    A sudden snort broke the tension.

    Citrine and her teammates couldn''t hold back-they burst outughing at the host''s words.

    Travis was wiping tears from his eyes,ughing so hard he could barely breathe.

    Then came the awards ceremony. The host presented the world champion''s trophy to Citrine''s team.

    He announced, voice ringing out, "Let''s give it up for our world champions!"

    The crowd erupted in cheers. Wade, standing in the audience, apuded with wild excitement-anyone watching might have thought it was his own team that had just won.

    Meanwhile, the entire Carmichael family had gathered around the living room TV to watch the match.

    Raymond watched his daughter standing tall and triumphant onstage, and his heart melted into a soft, proud puddle.

    He was so proud¡ªafter all, that was his little girl.

    Weston munched on sunflower seeds, beaming from ear to ear. "Knew it-my granddaughter never lets me down. Not only is she a top student at a prestigious university, she even managed to be a world champion at gaming."

    "I must have saved the world in a past life for God to bless me with such a wonderful grandchild."

    The old man was grinning so widely his face could barely contain it.

    Manley didn''t say anything, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth spoke volumes about how he felt-which, of course, had nothing to do with his step-son.

    Since Citrine had started college, Weston hadn''t seen his granddaughter in quite a while, and he missed that girl terribly.

    But, being an old-timer, he found the idea of saying so a little too sentimental. Not knowing how to bring it up with her, he turned awkwardly to his eldest son. "This is

    a big deal-we should have Citrinee home for a celebration.¡±

    Raymond hesitated, then nodded. "Alright."

    But in truth, he wasn''t sure it would work.

    Ever since Citrine''s illness, Raymond hadn''t seen much of her at all.

    Every time he''d asked her toe home, she''d found some excuse to put him off.

    She lived right there in Crestwood, yet she never wanted to see them, as if she was deliberately keeping her distance.

    Raymond felt helpless. He had no idea how to take care of his sensitive, stubborn daughter, and he was afraid of upsetting her even more. So, whenever he missed her, he''d sneak over to Crestwood University, just hoping to catch a glimpse of her from afar.

 Chapter 395

    At that moment, Citrine stood at the center of a crowd of friends.

    Sylvan grinned, raising his hand in mock solemnity. "I swear, little sis, this is the highlight of my entire gaming career."

    Carney let out a low whistle. "First time trying this strategy, and you pulled it off wlessly. Seriously, you ttened Team Nine and wiped the floor with them. That was damn satisfying."

    Springer''s eyes sparkled with genuine admiration. "You took their whole supply cache by yourself. I already thought you were impressive, but you keep blowing us away. Today was on another level."

    Travis snorted, a proud smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, what did you expect? She''s my sister, after all."

    The group groaned in protest. "Oh,e on, Travis. Don''t be so possessive. She''s everyone''s little sister here."

    All the praise put a real, honest glow in Citrine''s eyes. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel a flicker of joy.

    But itsted less than five minutes. Travis''s smile suddenly vanished, and his jaw tightened as he noticed someone approaching.

    He shot a warning re at the neer. "What are you doing here?"

    Wade strode over, Curry trailing behind him. He''de to congratte his little sister in person, only to stumble upon the lively scene: Citrine, surrounded by friends, all sharing the thrill of victory. Travis kept ruffling her hair, and she didn''t even shy away. She looked so genuinely happy, so at ease with this crowd.

    A pang of envy twisted in Wade''s chest.

    He''d always envied friends who had a little sister¡ªsomeone to take racing, to mess around with, to look out for. When his aunt finally had a baby girl, he''d counted down the days, desperate to meet her. But soon after she was born, she disappeared.

    Now, after all these years, he''d finally found her. But she already had other "older brothers" by her side.

    Wade might seem easygoing, but he wasn''t clueless. He could see how well these guys looked after her.

    He ignored Travispletely, his gaze fixed solely on Citrine.

    Travis''s face darkened. "Citrine, let''s go. Don''t pay attention to this lunatic."

    He took her hand, ready to lead her away.

    "You''re not leaving." Wade''s voice cracked with urgency as he stepped in front of them, arms outstretched to block their path.

    He looked at Citrine, careful to soften his tone as if he worried about scaring her. "Would you would youe home with me? Or maybe just to the hospital? We could... we could do a DNA test."

    Citrine frowned, her answer blunt and final. "No."

    Then, more firmly, she added, "And I''m not your sister. I won''t go with you for a DNA test. Please stop bothering me."

    Her words left no room for hope.

    The brutal lessons of her past had taught Citrine one thing: she could only ever truly rely on herself.

    The misfortune she''d suffered in her previous life felt etched into her very bones. Even now, after she''d finally acknowledged Raymond as her biological father, she knew that didn''t mean she could trust him¡ªor anyonepletely. Whenever she dealt with the Carmichaels, there was always a mask between her and them.

    At first, recognizing Raymond as her father had been about desperately wanting proof that her real dad loved her. But when the evidence was undeniable-when Raymond''s love was right in front of her-her first reaction hadn''t been happiness, but fear. She wanted to run.

    People raised in the cold crave warmth. But when they finally find it, they can''t help wanting more; after all, people are greedy by nature.

    But relying on someone else''s kindness is never a real solution. Sooner orter, that warmth can be taken away, and then the pain is even worse.

    Citrine would rather be alone. No expectations meant no disappointment, and most importantly, no one could hurt her again.

    She knew she wasn''t made for warmth. Her past had stripped away all hope for family. She''d once believed the Carmichaels could fill that emptiness inside her, but the closer she got, the bigger the void seemed to grow-always apanied by fear. And she hated that feeling most of all.

 Chapter 396

    She didn''t really care whether Wade was her brother or not. In fact, she''d prefer if he had nothing to do with her at all. Even if it turned out Wade truly was her brother, she still wouldn''t acknowledge him.

    Wade listened to his sister''s cold, final words, and his heart ached. But instead of ming her, he forced a smile and said gently, "I know this is hard for you to ept right now. I won''t push you."

    Worried she''d end up hating him even more, a flicker of sadness passed through Wade''s eyes. He added, "I''ll go now. Don''t let this ruin your day, okay?"

    Curry, who''d been hovering nearby, could hardly believe what he was seeing. The young master of the Saunders family was usually the center of attention wherever he went; this was the first time Curry had ever seen him look so humble-almost pitiful.

    Citrine eyed Wade with a frosty, unreadable expression.

    After leaving thepetition venue, Citrine and Travis went out to celebrate with

    a few friends. They''d just taken their seats at a cozy Italian restaurant when

    Citrine''s phone suddenly rang.

    It was a video call from Raymond.

    Citrine hesitated for a moment before finally epting the call.

    It had been a long time since Raymond hadst spoken to his daughter. He took a deep breath, clearly nervous, and spoke carefully. "Citrine, I watched the live stream of yourpetition online. I heard you won the world championship."

    He hurried to add, ¡°Congrattions, Citrine. I''m so proud of you.¡±

    "Thank you." Citrine managed a polite, distant smile for the camera, her tone cordial but cool.

    Raymond could feel the distance in her voice and it made him anxious, more desperate than ever to see her.

    After a pause, he tried again. "Citrine, we''ve prepared a big dinner at home to celebrate. Could you... would you pleasee home? Just for a bit?" His voice grew softer, almost pleading.

    Citrine pressed her lips together and said nothing.

    Ever since she''d been ill thest time, Raymond had called repeatedly, but she had always turned him down.

    Meanwhile, in the living room at home, Weston was growing impatient as Raymond failed to convince Citrine. He shot Raymond a withering look and snapped, "Useless. Let me handle this."

    Without waiting for a response, Weston snatched the phone from Raymond''s hands.

    Grumbling into the camera, he barked, "You little brat, how long has it been since you visited your old grandpa? What, are you waiting for me toe beg you in person?"

    Manley crowded into the frame, too. "Citrine, Uncle Manley misses you. Come home soon, alright?"

    Travis, sitting beside Citrine, shuddered the moment he heard his dad''s cooing voice. He''d only been away for a few months, but suddenly Manley had learned to act all sweet and clingy-his voice was even higher than usual.

    Yikes. Cloying. Gross.

    Feeling the weight of her elders'' repeated invitations, Citrine couldn''t bring herself to refuse anymore. After a moment''s hesitation, she agreed. ¡°Alright, I''lle home."

    On the other end, Raymond and the rest of the family were over the moon at her answer. Weston, despite his age, was practically bouncing on the sofa with excitement.

    Travis listened to the cheers from home and grinned, thinking surely it would be his turn next. After all, he''d just won a world championship too¡ªit was only fair he got a little homing celebration of his own.

    He waited. And waited. Even after Citrine hung up, nobody at home mentioned him.

    Dumbfounded, Travis turned to Citrine. "Wait, that''s it? They didn''t say a single word about me?"

    "Nope." Citrine tried to look sympathetic, but she couldn''t hold back a smirk.

    Travis was indignant. "Seriously? You''d think they''d show a little affection. I''ve been gone for months, and not one of them even asked about me. Am I really worth less than the family dog?"

 Chapter 397

    It was Citrine''s first time visiting the Carmichael family''s new vi in Crestwood. At the moment, everyone was present except Salome.

    Citrine felt a bit awkward as she stepped inside, the unfamiliar surroundings making her hesitate briefly in the foyer.

    Raymond, her father, didn''t waste a second. The moment he saw his daughter arrive, he hustled over to the entryway and bent down to set a pair of house slippers at her feet. "Citrine, the code for the front door is your birthday," he said gently. "Next time, no need to knock. Juste in."

    "Okay," Citrine replied, a little taken aback. It took her a moment, but then she nodded.

    Her grandfather Weston''s face crinkled with a wide smile when he spotted her, though he still couldn''t help but tease. "Look at you, youngdy," he grumbled, "how long''s it been since youst bothered toe home?"

    He snorted, feigning irritation. "I swear, I mention you every day. No conscience at all, that''s what you are."

    Citrine gave him a half-smile, half-smirk. "Don''t tell me you just miss having someone to fish with-or y chess?"

    Everyone in the family knew Grandpa was obsessed with fishing and chess. He was fiercelypetitive, too; if he didn''t catch a fish or lost a game, he''d keep at it all day until he got the oue he wanted. No one else in the house had the patience for that¡ªexcept, back in Havencrest, Citrine had always been willing to keep himpany.

    Weston''s eyes darted away for a second, but he scoffed stubbornly. "That''s not it."

    Manley emerged from the kitchen just in time to catch their exchange, carrying a tray of fresh fruit and homemade cake. The memory of yesterday''s fishing trip shed through his mind-Grandpa had dragged him out at five in the morning and didn''t let up until midnight. Just thinking about it made Manley shudder.

    "Citrine, here¡ªUncle Manley made you some dessert. Give it a try." Manley set the treats down in front of her, then shot a look at Grandpa. "Dad, I was with you all day yesterday. You''ve already tortured me enough; don''t drag Citrine into it."

    Weston''s face darkened. "Ungrateful brat! Torture you? Fishing with me is a privilege¡ªthere are plenty who''d kill for a spot at my side, you know."

    With that, Grandpa grabbed a couch cushion and lobbed it straight at Manley. But Manley¡ªhis legs now fully recovered and stronger than ever-dodged effortlessly, grinning sheepishly. "Honestly, Dad, why not let someone else enjoy that privilege?"

    He''d learned his lesson: a day''s fishing with Grandpa was an endurance test, in and simple.

    Weston turned red with indignation. "You rascal!"

    Father and son were still bickering when a sudden, thunderous banging erupted at the front door.

    "Who the hell thinks they can pound on the Carmichaels'' door like that?" Weston sprang to his feet, bristling with righteous fury as he stormed to the entryway.

    He flung the door open, ready to let loose, only to find Travis standing there, face cold and eyes zing with anger.

    "You''re back?" Weston blurted, caught off guard. He certainly hadn''t called him home.

    "I came home with Citrine, but before I could even get inside you guys locked me out," Travis bit out, his voice tight with irritation.

    Weston, utterly unfazed, replied, "Oh, doorbell''s broken. Come in."

    Travis looked like he was about to lose it. "Seriously, am I even a Carmichael?"

    "Nope," Weston answered, deadpan.

    It was like punching a pillow-Travis''s frustration instantly deted. He didn''t bother arguing; this was hardly the first time he''d gotten this treatment. The Carmichaels always did favor the girls.

    Before Travis could say another word, Weston rapped his knuckles sharply on the top of Travis''s head. "And watch your mouth, young man. Who do you think you''re talking to?¡± he scolded, grabbing Travis by the ear as he pulled him inside.

 Chapter 398

    Travis yelped in pain, "Let go, let go, Grandpa... you''re going to rip my ear off!"

    But after a moment, he got used to the stinging pain.

    Meanwhile, Citrine was nibbling on a little cupcake. She only realized, as Travis walked into the room, that she''dpletely forgotten about her brother.

    Her head drooped, a wave of guilt washing over her.

    Travis, who knew his sister almost inside out after all these years, immediately noticed the subtle shift in her expression. He could guess, just from the way she looked, that she was beating herself up for forgetting him.

    He strolled over, ruffled her hair, and grinned, "What''s with the guilt? It''s not like anything was your fault. So you got a little distracted by dessert-who can me you for having a sweet tooth?"

    Citrine had been feeling genuinely remorseful, but at hisst remark, she couldn''t help herself-she burst outughing.

    Later that afternoon, after lunch, Citrine was about to head home when Raymond asked her to stay.

    The Carmichaels, sensing that father and daughter needed a moment alone, quietly made themselves scarce.

    Suddenly, the enormous living room felt cavernous, just the two of them left. Raymond was the first to break the awkward silence.

    Carefully, almost hesitantly, he asked, "Citrine, did I do something wrong? Ever since you started college, it feels like you''ve been pulling away¡ªnot just from me, but from the whole Carmichael family."

    Citrine pressed her lips together before answering, her voice cool and even. "I told you before¡ªafter I turned eighteen, I would leave the Carmichael family."

    To Citrine, it was only practical. Raymond was single now, but someday there would be a new woman in the house-new children, a new family. Eventually, she''d just be left behind, discarded, the same way she''d been cast aside by the Iversons.

    Silently, she reminded herself: Citrine, don''t forget the lesson you learnedst time-never expect too much, and know when to walk away.

    A flicker of pain shed in Raymond''s eyes. "Citrine, you''re still upset about that first day we met, aren''t you? Because I refused to ept you as my daughter?" "No. I''ve never med you for that," Citrine said, her lips tightening. She was the type to hold grudges, sure, but she also tried to be fair.

    She could understand why Raymond had resisted-he''d never even known she existed. Suddenly discovering you have a daughter? Who wouldn''t be thrown off? Raymond''s voice was raw as he stared at his daughter''s impassive face. "Please, just tell me why are you shutting me out?"

    Raymond was hurting, and Citrine felt it too. Ever since she''d started spending more time with the Carmichaels, she''d realized how much they affected her emotions.

    She was usually quick to get herself back under control, but she hated how much it bothered her.

    She looked at Raymond, whose brow was furrowed with worry, and said, "Raymond, I''m not exactly a good person. I put on a show for everyone. The version of me you see? It''s not the real me. If you ever saw the truth, you''d never want me around."

    Raymond''s lips twitched into a small, unwavering smile. "You''re my daughter, Citrine. No matter what, I''ll always love you."

    Citrine was taken aback. After a pause, she spoke again, more serious this time. "There''s something I have to do soon. If I stay with the Carmichaels, I might drag all of you into it."

    She hesitated, then added quietly, "It could even put your lives at risk."

    Raymond gazed at her, remembering the nightmares he''d had about everything she''d been through. His eyes glistened. "We Carmichaels stick together. Whatever happens, we face it as a family. I''m not afraid."

    Whatever his daughter was nning, he would support her. This time, he was determined to protect her, no matter what.

    Citrine had expected him to back away after hearing how dangerous things could get. She was surprised he didn''t flinch.

    A sly smile crept across her face.

    "Alright, Raymond-if you want me to stay close to the Carmichaels, I have one condition."

 Chapter 399

    "What are your terms?"

    Raymond''s face lit up the moment he saw a glimmer of hope.

    Citrine had no idea what he was so happy about; the whole thing struck her as odd. She watched him for a few seconds before finally speaking, her tone slow but steady: "I want to be your only child-and the sole heir to the Carmichael Group. If you can promise me those two things, I''ll consider epting the Carmichael family."

    For a businessman, those demands were bordering on outrageous. Profit always came first, and Raymond was no exception.

    Citrine seriously doubted he''d ever agree.

    But when Raymond heard his daughter say she''d even consider giving him a chance, it was as if a ray of light broke through the clouds. He looked at Citrine, eyes earnest. "Do you like the Carmichael Group?"

    Citrine shook her head, deliberate and calm. "No. What I like is power." With power in her hands, she would always have a way out.

    Raymond fell silent, and Citrine assumed her blunt honesty had startled him. Her tone turned mocking. "I''ve always been ambitious, you know. Surely this isn''t news to you."

    She figured the demands she''d just made were greedy enough to put him off for good.

    Since she''d made her point, there was no reason to linger.

    With a coldugh and a hint of derision in her voice, she scoffed, "Seems I don''t weigh that much in your heart after all."

    She grabbed her bag and moved to leave.

    "Don''t go." Raymond''s voice, sharp and sudden, stopped her in her tracks.

    His eyes now looked as dark and unfathomable as ink.

    Raymond could tell, in as day, that Citrine had made those demands on purpose. He knew she was trying to back him into a corner, to make him give up.

    But he didn''t hesitate. His voice rang out, strong and clear. "I''ll agree to all of it.¡± Even though he understood this was just a test, that Citrine had never really nned to ept him, he rushed to answer, terrified he might be toote.

    All he wanted in that moment was to keep his daughter close-and it filled him with relief that what she''d asked for was something he could give.

    Citrine was caught off guard. She turned, staring at Raymond in disbelief. "You''re joking, right?"

    "The Carmichael Group is your life''s work. You''d really just hand it over to me? And what about Old Weston, Uncle Manley-are you sure they''ll go along with this?"

    "I don''t care what they think." There was a steely glint in Raymond''s eyes.

    Even if it meant turning the entire Carmichael family against him, he would make sure Citrine inherited thepany.

    Then his gaze softened as he looked at her. "As long as you''re happy, that''s all that matters."

    "If I''d known you wanted the Carmichael Group, I would''ve told you sooner. In fact, I already transferred all the shares to you a while ago."

    Regret flickered across Raymond''s face¡ªhe wished he''d told her so much earlier.

    Citrine stood frozen, stunned. She suddenly remembered a day six months back when Raymond had handed her some documents to sign. He''d told her it was just paperwork for a house, and she hadn''t thought much of it.

    Looking back now, it obviously wasn''t about a house at all¡ªit was thepany shares.

    It took her a long moment before she found her voice. "Why would you do that?¡± They''d only really been father and daughter for a year and a half.

    Raymond''s expression turned somber. "You''re my daughter. There''s no one else I''d trust to inherit the Carmichael Group. If anything ever happened to me, thepany would be your only safety. I''d never let anyone else have your way out."

    In the past, Raymond hadn''t cared much who would take over the Carmichael Group-whether it was Travis or anyone else. But everything changed the moment Citrine became his daughter.

    Better his own child than anyone else, he thought.

    Sure, Weston and Manley were fond of Citrine now, and her older brother Travis treated her well-but who could say what the future would bring?

    Raymond had spent years among the upper crust; he knew all too well how ugly things could get in families like theirs.

 Chapter 400

    Even among blood rtives, brothers and sisters who seem close one moment can turn against each other the next-willing to betray or even destroy family for money or personal gain. In their world, stories like this happened all the time. Raymond had seen it too often to be shocked anymore.

    That was why the Carmichael Group had to belong to Citrine. Even if she didn''t want it, he would fight to put it in her hands.

    "They don''t know about this yet, do they?" Citrine asked quietly after a pause.

    What worried her most was the thought of Raymond facing criticism because of her.

    Raymond nodded. "I''ll tell them soon. I never meant to keep it a secret. It''s just that the past six months, I''ve been caught up growing thepany and didn''t have time to exin everything to the family."

    Sensing her concern, Raymond spoke with extra care. "You don''t need to worry. I promise you, the Carmichael Group will be yours."

    "Raymond, you''re so good to me." Citrine''s eyes softened, a genuine smile flickering there.

    Back when she lived with the Iversons, Citrine had never been interested in thepany-she kept to herself, never fighting orpeting. Yet Sawyer always guarded against her, worried she might threaten Jete''s share of things.

    But now, it was Raymond who fiercely protected Citrine''s interests, even transferring every share of thepany into her name without a second thought. This kind of favoritism shook her to the core.

    It reminded her of an old saying: a parent''s love is measured by how far they n for their child''s future.

    If it hadn''t been for today''s conversation, she might never have known Raymond had given her every share of the Carmichael Group.

    Watching his daughter stand there, a little dazed, Raymond couldn''t help but reach out and ruffle her hair.

    "You''re my daughter. Of course I should look out for you."

    A momentter, he added, "Citrine, I promise you''ll always be my only daughter." Citrine wasn''t sure if he could really keep that promise, but she nodded anyway.

    "So, does that mean you can try giving your old man a chance?" Raymond asked gently, almost tiptoeing around her feelings.

    Citrine had to admit-learning that Raymond had transferred everything to her filled her with a thrill she''d never felt before.

    Even back at the Iversons'', Jete had never enjoyed such obvious, overwhelming preference.

    Realizing this, Citrine couldn''t help but feel a secret, private satisfaction.

    She smiled. "I''ll try."

    With that, she made her way back to her room, moving with the practiced ease of someone who belonged. Her room at Crestwood was arranged exactly like the one she''d had at Havencrest. The moment she stepped inside, she was taken aback.

    Every stuffed animal, every little trinket was sitting in the same spot as before, perfectly recreated. Whoever had set up her room had clearly poured their heart into it.

    The next day, Citrine returned to school. As soon as she left, Raymond headed out as well.

    But instead of going to the office, he drove straight to the hospital.

    He''d spent all night thinking over what Citrine had said.

    She''d insisted on being his only child. At first, he''d assumed it was just a sign of

    her insecurity, but lying awake that night, he realized there was more to it.

    He thought back to everything Citrine had endured with the Iversons, and suddenly, it all made sense.

    It wasn''t just that she wanted to be his only child-she was terrified of being abandoned.

    After experiencing Sawyer''s change from affection to coldness, Citrine had grown incredibly sensitive.

    She was afraid he''d eventually remarry, have other children, and forget about her. She was terrified he would be another Sawyer.

    Citrine''s heart, he realized, had always been haunted by this fear. And it was his fault as a father for not seeing it sooner. Guilt overwhelmed him.

    But that was over now. He would make sure Citrine knew-he would never be someone like Sawyer.

    He didn''t need a wife or other children. Having Citrine as his daughter was more than enough.

 Chapter 401

    After returning from the hospital, Raymond Carmichael called a meeting of the entire Carmichael family at their home.

    He looked pale as a sheet, lips drained of all color, and so weak that even standing seemed to take effort.

    His father, Weston Carmichael, caught sight of Raymond''s condition and paused, concern flickering in his eyes. "What happened to you?"

    "I''m fine." Raymond''s voice was hoarse from the recent surgery.

    Salome Carmichael, recalling the urgent group text Raymond had sent earlier, asked, "Ray, did you call us back because something happened at thepany?"

    Everyone except Citrine had gathered-Travis Carmichael included. At Salome''s question, all eyes turned to Raymond.

    He spoke, slowly and deliberately: "Thepany''s fine. There''s just something important about it that I need to tell you all." He drew a steadying breath. "I''ve transferred all my shares to Citrine. I intend for her to be the next head of the Carmichael Group."

    "This is something I should have told you sooner, but things have been hectic at work these past six months, so I kept putting it off."

    He finished in one go, bracing himself for the bacsh he was certain would

    But Travis, ever the easygoing one, jumped in without missing a beat. "Uncle Ray, I support your decision. Sis is smart and capable-she''s exactly who should be running thepany."

    "I agree," Manley Carmichael added, the corners of his mouth curving up. For once, he found Raymond agreeable. He''d always worried that if Raymond had more children, he might treat Citrine unfairly. Now, hearing this, Manley was finally at ease.

    "I support you too, Ray," Salome chimed in without hesitation.

    To her, Citrine wasn''t just a niece; she was her guiding light. If not for Citrine, Salome might never have found the strength to leave her miserable marriage, nor embraced a second chance at life.

    The only one who hadn''t spoken was Weston. Raymond couldn''t read his father''s thoughts. Weston had always wanted a male heir for thepany, but when Travis proved unreliable, he''d turned his hopes to Vicente and Regina, the other Carmichael siblings.

    Raymond frowned and looked at his father. "Dad, what do you think?"

    Weston met his eldest son''s gaze and nodded solemnly. "Citrine is not only your daughter-she''s my only granddaughter. I have no objections to her inheriting thepany."

    He paused, then added, "She''s clever and sharp. I''m sure she''ll do just as well as any of us, if not better."

    After all these years together, Weston had grown deeply fond of his granddaughter. He felt confident entrusting the family business to her.

    "Dad... You really don''t object?" Raymond was visibly surprised. He hadn''t expected Weston to agree so readily.

    Weston shot him a knowing look. "Of course I don''t. Citrine is my flesh and blood -don''t think I can''t tell the difference. Besides, that girl saved my life."

    "Even if you hadn''t brought this up today, I was nning to leave her my shares and give her thepany myself."

    Though he often bickered with her, the old man had a genuine affection for his granddaughter. Not just because she''d once saved him, but because she had a good heart, always willing to spend time with him and listen to his stories.

    It was rare to find a young person so lively, so filial, so willing to care for her elders.

    Since Citrine hade into his life, Weston often felt as if she were a gift from above¡ªa source of pride and a patch for the holes left in his own youth.

    "Thank you, Dad," Raymond said, his voice thick with emotion.

 Chapter 402

    Weston gave a dismissive snort. "She''s my granddaughter. Of course I''m on her side. No need to thank me."

    After a moment, he continued, "There was a time I worried that if you had other kids, you might not treat Citrine the same. Looks like I shouldn''t have doubted you -no one could ask for a better father than you''ve been to her."

    Raymond paused, caught off guard by Weston''s words.

    If even Weston had worried about that, it was no wonder Citrine, sensitive as she was, might have had simr fears. A pang of regret hit Raymond-he wished he''d picked up on her concerns sooner.

    After a long silence, Raymond finally spoke up in front of everyone. "I don''t want another wife or more children. For me, there will only ever be Citrine."

    He looked them all in the eye. "I had a vasectomy." His tone left no room for doubt.

    The whole Carmichael family stared at him in stunned silence.

    Everyone knew how much Raymond adored Citrine, but no one had expected he''d go this far.

    Salome blinked. "Wow, you really love her."

    Manley, at a loss for words, simply pped Raymond on the shoulder. "That''s real guts," he said gruffly.

    Weston kept quiet, but his expression was conflicted.

    Citrine didn''t find out about any of this until a monthter-Travis let it slip one afternoon.

    She didn''t even bother asking for time off. Furious, she jumped in her car and sped straight to Carmichael Enterprises.

    Everyone at thepany recognized Citrine. Seeing her storming through the lobby with fire in her eyes, not a single soul dared to stop her.

    Meanwhile, heated voices echoed from inside Raymond''s office.

    "Raymond, what the hell were you thinking?"

    "Are you out of your mind?"

    "You''re the CEO of Carmichael Enterprises! Have youpletely lost your senses? Ever consider thinking about yourself for once?"

    A few staff members gathered in the hallway, whispering.

    "What''s going on between Miss Carmichael and the boss?"

    "Are they fighting?"

    "Sure sounds like it. She''s really letting him have it."

    "Did I just hear her call him an idiot?"

    "I heard that too. I think she also said his brain was fried."

    "Haha, this is priceless. Who knew the boss could get chewed out like this?"

    "Guess everyone has a weakness. Even the boss has to stand at attention when his daughter''s angry."

    "I''d give anything to see the look on his face right now."

    ...

    The office gossips couldn''t resist; a few crept up to the door, pressing their ears to the wood, desperate to find out what had driven thepany''s golden girl into such a fury.

    Just then, Adler returned from a meeting. Spotting the cluster of employees at the boss''s door, he strode over and cleared his throat. "What are you all doing here?"

    The group quickly scattered from the doorway.

    Adler, too preupied to care, swung the door open and walked right in-then froze in his tracks, stunned by what he saw. The employees peering in behind him went wide-eyed.

    There sat Miss Carmichael, arms crossed, perched in Raymond''s executive chair, looking cool and unapproachable, her icy re enough to send chills down anyone''s spine. And their all-powerful President Carmichael? He stood meekly by her side, looking for all the world like a scolded schoolboy.

    At that exact moment, Raymond turned to Citrine with a pleading look.

    "Sweetheart, Daddy was wrong. Don''t be mad at me, okay?"

    No one in their wildest dreams could have imagined thepany''s legendary boss, who ruled with an iron fist, would ever soften his voice and beg for forgiveness¡ªfrom his daughter, no less.

    Was this really their boss?

 Chapter 403

    At that moment, inside the office, Raymond looked up at themotion. In the doorway stood Adler, right in the center, with a whole crowd clustered behind him.

    Adler, shaken out of his shock, immediately paled. He realized he''d walked in at the worst possible moment-he''d seen and heard things he definitely shouldn''t have.

    God, please don''t let them try to silence me for this.

    Flustered, Adler blurted out, "Sorry, Mr. Carmichael, I''ll step out right away."

    He turned on his heel and hurried out, closing the door firmly behind him.

    Outside, the staff were all back at their desks, but the office was abuzz with the day''s juiciest gossip.

    "Mr. Carmichael is such a softie for his daughter¡ªit''s not even subtle! Did you hear how adorable his voice got?"

    "I never would''ve guessed he had that side to him.¡±

    "He really dotes on his little girl, doesn''t he?"

    "Honestly, isn''t it wild how different he is with her? She looks so sweet and quiet, like the type you''d expect to get walked all over, but it turns out Mr. Carmichael''s the one who can''t say no to her."

    "Did you see? Mr. Carmichael was standing while his daughter was sitting. That''s real respect."

    "Oh my god, it must be amazing to be his daughter. If there''s such a thing as reincarnation, I want toe back as Mr. Carmichael''s kid next time."

    Back in the quiet office, after all that had just happened, Citrine had finally regained herposure. Her face was calm again, her expression unreadable. She looked steadily at Raymond and asked, "Is this decision because of what I said earlier?"

    Raymond shook his head. "It has nothing to do with you. Like I told you, you''ll be my only daughter in this life. Getting a vasectomy was my own choice."

    "Aren''t you worried you''ll regret it someday?" Citrine''s voice was steady, but inside, her thoughts were a tangled mess.

    She wanted Raymond to have no other children, that much was true-but she''d never imagined he''d go so far.

    "I won''t. I know I won''t," Raymond replied, his tone certain.

    From the moment Citrine entered his life, Raymond knew his daughter would always be the most important person in his world.

    He wasn''t the impulsive sort, either. He''d thought it through before making this decision, and he had no regrets.

    Citrine didn''t know what to say. For a long moment, she was silent-her heart shaken, overwhelmed. Yet in that instant, something else became crystal clear.

    Raymond wasn''t Sawyer Iverson. He would never be Sawyer.

    She didn''t know how to respond to the depth of his love. After a pause, she finally said, in all seriousness, "Raymond, from today on, I''ll do everything I can to protect you and the Carmichaels."

    Raymond couldn''t help butugh, both exasperated and touched. "Silly girl, it''s a father''s job to protect his daughter."

    But as he recalled the image from his nightmare-Citrine, pale and fragile in a hospital bed¡ªa cold, hard gleam flickered in his eyes.

    As long as he was alive, no one would ever hurt Citrine.

    He would make the Carmichael Group so powerful that no one would ever dare threaten her again.

    Meanwhile, in the Saunders family''s basement, Wade Saunders was punished yet again. All it took was a single mention that he''d found his sister, and the wounds on his back-barely healed-were torn open afresh.

    Hilda Saunders red coldly at her nephew, raising her riding crop and bringing it down on Wade with even more force than usual. This time, it was as if she truly meant to beat him within an inch of his life.

    "Have you forgotten the Saunders family rules?" she spat. "How many times must I say it her name is never to be spoken in my presence! Are you tired of living?" As she spoke, she shot a vicious look at Monica Saunders, who was kneeling nearby a silent threat.

    Monica exchanged a fearful nce with Wade. Neither dared utter a word in protest.

    Their sister was a forbidden topic, not just in the outside world, but even within the Saunders family¡ªespecially in front of their aunt.

    When the punishment was finally over, Monica helped Wade to his feet and out of the basement. Only then did they dare to whisper to each other, voices barely audible.

 Chapter 404

    "Wade, that was seriously out of line," Monica said, shooting him a re. "You know Auntie can''t stand it when anyone mentions her little sister, and yet you told her you''d found her? Honestly, you had that whippinging."

    Wade bristled. "What do you mean, lying? I''m telling the truth. I really did find her."

    Monica rolled her eyes. "Oh,e on. There are plenty of people who look alike. Just because you spot someone who vaguely resembles her, you go and call her your sister? That''s just creepy."

    Wade had always been unreliable, more interested in partying and blowing money than anything else¡ªa textbook spoiled rich kid. Monica never took anything he said seriously.

    Besides, even if he had spotted a girl who resembled Auntie, no one could possibly look as much like her as Citrine did.

    Deep down, Monica was almost certain that Citrine was Auntie''s daughter. If only she could get something of Citrine''s¡ªa strand of hair, a toothbrush-she could run a DNA test and put her suspicions to rest.

    The idea lit up her eyes. Immediately, she sent someone to check the hospital database, hoping to find some gic data on Citrine forparison.

    She waited anxiously, clinging to hope, but the investigator soon returned with bad news: the hospital didn''t have any of Citrine''s data on file.

    That left only one option to arrange a meeting.

    After a moment''s thought, Monica pulled out her phone and called Sylvia Watkins, asking her to set something up.

    Sylvia was nothing if not efficient. That very afternoon, she managed to get Citrine to agree to a get-together.

    "Citrine, you made it!" Monica had arrived early and was waiting in the private lounge. When she saw Citrine walk in, her eyes lit up, and her greeting was far warmer than usual.

    Citrine found Monica''s sudden friendliness a bit odd but didn''t dwell on it. She gave Monica a polite smile and a small nod.

    "Come on, Citrine, have a seat." Monica patted the spot beside her, practically pulling Citrine down next to her.

    Sylvia was a natural at livening up a crowd, and as soon as everyone had gathered, she had the whole group singing andughing. Citrine, knowing her own limits in the karaoke department, chose to sit it out, content to watch from the sidelines.

    So there she was, seated next to Monica, who kept stealing nces at her, eyes intense and searching. Citrine couldn''t shake the feeling that something was off, and that unease only grew when Monica finally spoke.

    "Citrine, I heard you go to Crestwood University. Sorry if this is too personal, but do your parents live in Crestwood too?" Monica asked, her tone carefully casual.

    Citrine didn''t see the point of the question, but answered patiently, "My dad lives in Crestwood. My mom passed away."

    Monica apologized quickly. "I''m sorry, I shouldn''t have pried."

    But despite her words, Monica could barely contain her excitement. Eighteen years old, no mother, and the spitting image of Auntie-how could it all be coincidence?

    "It''s all right," Citrine replied, noticing Monica''s odd expression but letting it go.

    A few minutester, Monica suddenly leaned in closer. "Citrine, you''ve got a white hair on your head. Want me to get it for you?"

    Citrine stared at her, taken aback, then shook her head firmly. "No, thank you." She''d never had a single white hair in her life-Monica was clearly making it up. With that, Citrine subtly shifted away, putting some distance between them.

    Monica could sense the chill in Citrine''s attitude and decided not to push her luck.

    Still, she wasn''t ready to give up. Throughout the rest of the gathering, Monica tried everything she could think of to get a strand of Citrine''s hair, but Citrine was too wary, never letting her guard down for a second.

    By the time the evening wound down and everyone was filtering out of the lounge, Monica still hadn''t managed to get even a single hair.

    Once the room cleared, Monica lingered behind, methodically searching the seat where Citrine had been sitting, desperately hoping to find a stray hair to take back for testing.

    Nothing. Not a single strand.

    Despair settled over her.

 Chapter 405

    Sensing Monica''s odd behavior, Citrine ordered a thorough investigation into the Saunders family once she got home.

    She hadn''t expected to discover that the man she''d encountered at the Titan Showdown was also a Saunders.

    Thinking back on the strange things Wade had said to her at thepetition, and connecting those with Monica''s peculiar actions, everything finally made sense.

    Citrine had figured out exactly what Monica was after that day.

    So it turned out Monica had wanted her DNA sample for testing.

    Citrine sat in her chair, her gaze darkening as she mulled it over.

    Then she plucked a hair from her head, sealed it in a stic bag, and instructed someone to deliver it to Crestwood Medical Research Center. She also had them collect Hilda''s DNA sample and send it along for testing.

    Hilda had spent years searching for her lost daughter, so her DNA was stored at the hospital, easy to retrieve.

    Crestwood Medical quickly ran the test, cing both samples together and, in less than an hour, sent the results to Citrine.

    She opened the file with a calm expression and flipped straight to thest page.

    There, in ck and white, it was spelled out clearly: Probability of biological rtionship-99.99%.

    Citrine stared at the result, pausing only for a split second before closing the report.

    In herst life, she had never learned anything about her origins-apart from the idental discovery that her birth father was Raymond, she''d known nothing of her mother.

    Now, finding out she actually had a mother didn''t bring her any joy. Of course, she had no intention of acknowledging the woman.

    The time when she''d longed for a mother was long gone. Citrine was strong now; she didn''t need anyone anymore.

    With a flick of her thumb, she deleted the report from her phone and put the entire matter out of her mind.

    That night, Citrine had just finished her skincare routine and was getting ready for bed when a message popped up from Hastings Cooper.

    Hastings: Come downstairs. I''m outside your building.

    Citrine nced at her phone, feeling a little irritable. She almost typed out an excuse to turn him down, but then remembered she''d been ignoring Hastings for quite a while. Maybe she''d been a bit too cold to himtely, so she changed her mind.

    She changed into afortable tracksuit, left her face bare, and headed downstairs.

    As soon as Hastings saw her, his eyes lit up.

    It was mid-October, and Crestwood''s temperatures had suddenly plummeted. Hastings was waiting outside wearing only a hoodie, and his hands had already turned red from the cold.

    "Here, take this." The moment Citrine stepped outside, Hastings pulled a hand warmer from his pocket and thrust it into her hands.

    Instantly, warmth spread through her palms.

    But she couldn''t help notice how icy his hands had been when they brushed against hers-cold as stone.

    She shot him a strange look, surprised. "Your hands are freezing. Why not use the warmer yourself first?"

    Hastings thought she was concerned about him, and his heart skipped a beat. The tips of his ears turned a light shade of pink.

    He scratched his head awkwardly before replying in a low voice, "I''m a grown man. I don''t mind the cold."

    Truth was, he''d wanted to warm the hand warmer with his own hands before giving it to her so that she could feel a bit of his warmth.

    Citrine had only asked out of curiosity, not real concern, so she didn''t press the matter.

    It was chilly outside. The two of them got into the car.

    Only then did Citrine notice the dark circles under his eyes-he looked exhausted.

    Hastings was a soldier, always in top shape, and every time she saw him, he seemed full of energy. It was rare to see him like this. On impulse, Citrine asked, "What''s wrong with you? Haven''t slept for a few days?"

    Hastings hadn''t expected her to notice, and he felt a little spark of happiness inside.

 Chapter 406

    But as he remembered everything that had happenedtely, a flicker of sorrow crossed his eyes.

    If anyone else had asked, he might have tried to keep it together. But with Citrine standing in front of him, he felt an inexplicable urge to open up.

    "One of my teammates was killed recently. The whole squad''s been in a bad ce. Wepletely fell apart during thest drill."

    Citrine flinched at the word "killed," a shadow of grief passing through her gaze as well.

    In the military, there''s nothing more painful-or more terrifying-than losing arade.

    She pressed her lips together and said earnestly, "The first lesson any real soldier learns is to ept death. Losing a teammate is devastating, but what''s worse is not being able to face that reality."

    "If you stay trapped in your grief, refusing to ept it, all that''s waiting for you are more defeats and more fallen friends."

    Citrine was frighteningly calm, and for the first time, Hastings sensed aposure in her that felt almost inhuman, as if she''d looked death in the eye more times than he could imagine.

    "I keep telling myself to ept it, but I just can''t," Hastings admitted, biting his lip, pain flickering in his eyes.

    Citrine regarded him in silence for a moment before speaking, her tone deliberate. "Losing a teammate shakes you, makes you doubt yourself. That''s when you have to ask: can you conquer your fear? Do you really want to be a true soldier- someone who can step onto the battlefield one day?"

    She might dislike Hastings, but she couldn''t deny his talent. With the right guidance, he could be an exceptional officer-someone who''d serve his country well.

    For heroes like that, Citrine was always willing to offer advice.

    After all, she''d always been able to separate her feelings for the nation from her opinions about individuals. When it mattered, country came first.

    Hastings was startled by her words, but then his eyes lit up with sudden rity. She''d cut right to the heart of the matter. "You''re right. After we lost him, morale plummeted. Everyone''s been drowning in self-doubt and fear."

    "This is when we need to face our fears and hold onto our purpose."

    "Citrine, I think I know what I need to do now," he said, his voice trembling with excitement, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

    Seeing that he understood, Citrine allowed herself a small smile. Maybe all her effort to talk sense into him hadn''t been wasted after all.

    She grinned, her words warm but firm. "Keep at it. You''re a good soldier, and you''ve got what it takes to be a great leader one day. Don''t let setbacks like this drag you down."

    Hastings stared, momentarily stunned. Citrine smiled often, but he''d never seen her smile like this genuine, radiant, happiness shining from within.

    He found himself a little lost for words.

    And it was the first time he''d ever heard her actuallypliment him.

    He grew a little embarrassed. "I didn''t think you saw anything good in me."

    She nced at him, her expression serious. "I''m just being honest." Citrine never lied.

    Hastingsughed. "Well, thank you. For everything. For knocking some sense into me and for thepliment."

    From the time he''d lost to her in sparring during boot camp, to being pushed to his limits by her in the Vermillion Vanguard, he''d witnessed her strength firsthand. He''d also realized just how remarkable and brilliant this eighteen-year-old girl truly

    was.

    At that moment, Hastings felt as if the girl standing before him was shining, bright and untouchable, just out of reach.

 Chapter 407

    The next day, Hastings gathered all his soldiers together and yed a video on the big screen-a montage of their training days from enlistment to the present. Every highlight and hardship, everyugh and every tear, every memory that shaped them shed before their eyes.

    As they watched, the room filled withughter and sobs alike. Some doubled over, clutching their sides at old jokes, while others buried their faces in their hands, ovee by emotion. Hastings nced around at his men, seeing not the hollow, grief-stricken shells they''d be, but the friends and brothers he''d always known. He felt a sting in his eyes and quickly turned away, swiping at the corners with his sleeve. Then, without warning, he spun back and called out in a voice that rang through the hall:

    "Brothers! Do you remember what we dreamed of when we first put on this uniform?"

    The soldiers nodded, honest and unwavering.

    "Captain, I remember. I wanted to protect my home, my country."

    "I wanted to honor my brother, to serve in his stead after he was killed in action."

    "I grew up with nothing and no one. If the regiment hadn''t pulled me out of that hellhole, I''d be dead or worse. The army saved me. I live for my country, and if I die, my soul belongs to it, too. I swear to protect it with myst breath."

    "We don''t have grand ambitions. We just want to give everything we have for our country."

    "I''ll always be proud to call myself a Vermillion Vanguard."

    Hastings blinked hard, the redness in his eyes unmistakable.

    "You''re all damn fine men," he said quietly, his voice thick.

    Then he raised his voice, steady andmanding: ¡°Brothers, do you remember the Vanguard''s oath?"

    He straightened his uniform, squared his shoulders, and spoke, every word ringing with conviction.

    "I swear, I am a member of the Vermillion Vanguard-unyielding as steel, sharp as

    a de. The red of my blood is my honor. I vow to be loyal unto death, to my country and to my people, and to never forget why I began this journey."

    Even before he finished, the soldiers joined in, their voices unison, strong enough to shake the rafters. In that moment, every pair of eyes burned with fierce resolve.

    When the oath was done, it was as if the entirepany had been reborn. The men who had been listless and lost since theirrades'' deaths now stood tall, energy and life rekindled in their eyes.

    Off to the side, Citrine watched the scene unfold, feeling a wave of nostalgia crash over her. She remembered taking that very oath herself, every word and every pause etched into her heart. Hearing it again, her blood roared in her veins.

    If it hadn''t been for her own battles inside her mind, she might never have left the regiment at all.

    Though she''d been away for a long time, she knew that if her country ever called, if the Vanguard ever needed her, she''d return in a heartbeat.

    Lost in thought, she didn''t notice the soldiers had spotted her. In an instant, they rushed over, voices tumbling over one another, faces alight with excitement.

    "Instructor Carmichael, you''re back!"

    "You finally came to see us!"

    "We missed you so much. We nearly cried ourselves sick when you left."

    "Yeah, you slipped away without a word. We only found out you were gone when we went to say goodbye."

    "I don''t care, Instructor-you''re having dinner with us tonight. No excuses."

    ...

    For reasons he couldn''t quite exin, Hastings felt a twinge of annoyance as the group clustered around Citrine. He strode over and, with more force than necessary, nudged a few overzealous soldiers away from her, his tone sharp.

    "All right, knock it off. Give her some space."

    Then, almost possessively, he stepped in front of Citrine, shielding her from the crowd.

    One of the soldiers shot him a mischievous look. "What''s with you, Captain? Did you eat nails for breakfast?"

    But the men were too happy to dwell on it; they simplyughed, pulled Hastings aside, and surged back toward Citrine.

    One bright-eyed private stopped right in front of her, his gaze shining. "Ms. Carmichael, did youe back because you missed us?"

 Chapter 408

    Citrine hadn''t nned on lingering¡ªshe just wanted to take a quick look from afar and leave. But now that everyone had spotted her, there was no point in hiding.

    She curved her lips into a smile, her tone light.

    "I heard you lost thest drill. Thought I''d stop by and see how you''re holding up.'' Despite her words, there wasn''t a trace of me in her voice.

    After what had just happened, the soldiers finally realized how far off their game they''d beentely.

    Hearing Citrine speak, they immediately tensed up, scrambling to assure her.

    "Instructor Carmichael, we know we messed up. We swear, we''ll train twice as hard from now on!"

    "Yeah, next drill, we''ll wipe the floor with those cocky Magnolia boys."

    "That''s right-next time we''ll win, no matter what."

    Citrine couldn''t help but find their eagerness to redeem themselves a little amusing.

    She''d seen more battles than she could count, and as she looked at these fresh- faced recruits, she felt a familiar flicker of worry-that''s what had brought her here in the first ce.

    She knew all too well how dangerous it could be for a soldier to get stuck in their own head. After all, she was living proof.

    Suddenly, Citrine asked, "Do you all know what thest line of the Vermillion Vanguard''s oath really means¡ª''never forget why you started''?"

    Someone quickly replied, "It means to remember our mission and purpose, always push forward, never back down."

    "Exactly." Citrine nodded, clearly pleased.

    She spoke with quiet gravity, "As soldiers, the most important thing is to hold on to your purpose-to always keep your mission and your country first in your heart."

    "Maybe you all understand the words, but today, I want you to really feel-this isn''t just something to say."

    Without warning, Citrine shrugged off her heavy jacket, leaving just a tank top underneath.

    A sudden sh of pale skin made the soldiers'' faces turn ashen; they all spun around in a panic. "Ma''am, we can''t look-that would be disrespectful."

    A few of the younger soldiers blushed furiously, staring at their boots.

    "Citrine, put your coat back on," Hastings said, his voice tense with concern. "You''ll catch cold."

    But Citrine only gave a silent, wry smile. "On the battlefield, there''s no man or woman-just bodies and grit. Turn around. That''s an order."

    She''d been their instructor for a month now; by this point, her orders triggered reflexes. Without hesitation, the recruits all turned to face her again, embarrassment giving way to something else.

    None of their eyes lingered on her skin. Instead, every gaze locked onto the old scar across her upper back.

    They all knew what it meant. After countless drills and endless theory lessons, every soldier understood: a wound that close to the heart-just a centimeter away -was almost always fatal.

    Hastings stared, stunned, his eyes growing red. "What happened?" he asked quietly. He''d had no idea she''d ever taken a bullet.

    Citrine didn''t answer him right away.

    She turned to show them the scar on her chest, then spoke calmly. "That bullet went straight through me-front to back. For a moment I thought I was dead. But fate had other ideas. I''m still here."

    As she slipped her jacket back on, her voice was slow, almost casual. "You want to know what happened in that war? Want to hear how I got these scars?"

 Chapter 409

    As memories from the past surfaced, Citrine''s expression grew unusually solemn.

    "Three years ago, there was a shootout in Magnolia. Several of our country''s business leaders and a few young people were taken hostage by criminals there." "To rescue the hostages, our team lost threerades, and another was gravely wounded. But the operation was at a critical point if we broke formation to help the injured, the criminals would have discovered us, and the lives of everyone on that boat-those business leaders and youngsters-would have been in even greater danger."

    "It was agony for all of us. On one hand, there were our brothers-in-arms, people we trusted with our lives. On the other, there were the civilians we''d sworn to protect. No matter what choice we made, regret would follow."

    "At the most desperate moment, our woundedrade made the decision himself -he threw himself overboard. We were devastated. But in that instant, there was no time to grieve. We had to channel our pain into action and stick to the n to take down those criminals."

    "In the end, we got the hostages out safely. But just as we were about to leave, one of the criminals who hadn''t died suddenly fired at the hostages. For a split second, my mind went nk. Instinct took over-I threw myself in the way of the bullet. In that moment, only one thought echoed in my mind: ''I have to protect them.""

    When Citrine finished, the group stared at her, stunned into silence.

    Most of them had only ever participated in training exercises. The other day had been the first time they''d seen arade fall. Listening to Citrine''s story now, their eyes shone, filled with respect and something like awe.

    "Instructor, you''re a hero."

    "Instructor, I''m proud to have you as my mentor."

    "Thatrade who chose to sacrifice himself... he was a hero too."

    "We want to be people like you."

    ...

    Citrine looked at them, silent for a moment before speaking softly. ¡°As a soldier, you have to ept that life and death are always close by. You''ll face moments like this again and again. The only thing you can do is stay true to your mission and keep moving forward. Whatever happens, don''t let your emotions be a trap."

    "Instructor, don''t worry. We won''t let what happened before happen again."

    "We''ll reim what we lost. Next time, we''ll make sure those Magnolia bastards are the ones eating dust."

    ...

    Citrine''s words rekindled their confidence, steeling their resolve.

    That evening, after dinner with the squad, Hastings offered to walk Citrine home. She didn''t refuse.

    Finally, with the rambunctious recruits left behind, the two of them had a moment alone. Hastings was in high spirits the whole way.

    He spoke up first. "Citrine, what made youe back to the squad today?"

    She gazed out the window and answered casually, "Had some free time, thought I''d drop by."

    The truth was, she couldn''t set her worries aside. When it came to matters of national security, she could never just stand by. Losing a training exercise was one thing, but watching a whole team lose themselves to doubt and trauma-she could never forgive herself for letting that happen.

    Hastings hesitated, then finally asked what had been on his mind. "If you joined the army three years ago, why aren''t you still serving?"

    To him, Citrine was a rare talent-her skills, her professionalism, her leadership. She was everything the force needed, and more. So he couldn''t understand why she''d chosen to step away.

 Chapter 410

    Citrine fell silent for a long moment after the question, her eyes tinged with an

    unmistakable regret. Finally, she pressed her lips together and said softly, "I''m just not suited to stay in the service anymore."

    "Why?" Hastings asked.

    Her voice was calm, almost distant. "I can''t give the unit my undivided attention anymore."

    Someone consumed by vengeance doesn''t deserve to hold a gun.

    Citrine didn''t want to discuss it further and turned her gaze out the window, ending the conversation. Hastings recognized her reluctance and didn''t press.

    Kali Glenwood was in a state of panic. The brother who used to dote on her more than anyone was bing increasingly distant, slipping out of her control. Desperate, she''d recently hired someone to tail Hastings.

    That day, her informant messaged with an update: Hastings was out having dinner with Citrine and his closest friends.

    A few secondster, photos followed. In them, Hastings and Citrine sat side by side. Citrine was chatting with the others, oblivious, while Hastings watched her the entire time, his eyes never wandering.

    Erging the image until Citrine''s face nearly filled the screen, Kali red at it, her own expression twisting with rage.

    What did this maniptive woman do to deserve Hastings'' attention? What kind of tricks had she pulled to get him to introduce her to hisrades? Even after Kali had pleaded again and again, Hastings had refused to let her meet them. Yet somehow, he''d brought that homewrecker along without a second thought. Witch. Schemer.

    The longer Kali stewed, the darker her mood grew. She was just about to smash something her hand already gripping the vase on her nightstand when the bedroom door swung open.

    "Kali, let''s go shopping!" Jete Iverson burst in, bouncing across the room and grabbing Kali''s arm like she owned the ce.

    Kali''s father was Theo Glenwood''s brother, but only by adoption. Scales Glenwood, the family patriarch, had taken him in as a child. Since Scales had raised Dick Glenwood himself, he''d always shown this adopted son special affection.

    Just recently, after Scales fell ill, Dick had shown up out of the blue, bringing along

    a wife and daughter Kali had never met her new aunt and a cousin two years her junior. Kali took an instant dislike to them. They reeked of poverty, of people who''d never seen the world.

    She shook off Jete''s hand with an obvious look of distaste.

    Jete''s face froze for a second.

    Who does she think she is, anyway? Just an adopted daughter of the Glenwoods, acting all high and mighty.

    Of course, Jete kept her thoughts to herself. Her family''s future depended on the Glenwoods, so she swallowed her anger and dropped her hand. That''s when she noticed Kali''s phone, screen still lit up with Citrine''s face.

    It had been a while, but Jete would recognize that woman anywhere¡ªeven if Citrine turned to ashes, she''d know her. If it weren''t for Citrine, the Iversons wouldn''t have gone bankrupt, and the Glenwoods wouldn''t have been forced out of Havencrest.

    Just the thought of Citrine made Jete''s jaw clench in fury.

    She wasn''t sure if Kali and Citrine were friends or foes, so she weighed her words carefully and tested the waters, "Kali, do you know Citrine?"

    Kali paused, surprised. "You know her too?" At the mention of Citrine, a flicker of disdain crossed Kali''s eyes.

    Jete caught it at once. Suddenly, she knew exactly what to say.

    With a dramatic sigh, she put on her most aggrieved face. "Kali, you probably don''t know this, but our family was forced out of Havencrest because of Citrine. If it weren''t for her, we never would have lost everything and had toe here to Crestwood to rely on the Glenwoods."

 Chapter 411

    Kali had never thought much of her poor, shabby little sister, but after hearing what Jete had to say, her interest was piqued.

    After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

    She reached out with a cheerful grin and pulled Jete down to sit beside her on the bed.

    Thinking about Citrine, Kali''s expression darkened. ¡°Jete, I can''t stand Citrine either. She stole what should have been mine."

    Jete''s eyes lit up, suddenly overflowing with conversation.

    She didn''t hold back,unching into all the messy history she shared with Citrine back in Havencrest-grudges, betrayals, every sour memory.

    Jete was refreshingly honest, and Kali, sensing no pretense, gradually let her own guard down. Soon she was venting all her troubles too.

    The two hit it off instantly. In just one hour, two girls who''d barely spoken before found themselves bonding over a shared dislike, dropping their usual masks and bing genuine with each other.

    Kali felt as if she''d finally found someone who understood her-a kindred spirit she wished she''d met sooner. Excited, she leaned in. "Jete, since we''re on the same page, what do you say we team up? Let''s bring that bitch Citrine down together."

    Jete smiled slyly. "Absolutely, Kali. Besides, down the line, my family will need yours to look out for us."

    As she spoke, Jete suddenly remembered something Kali had just said. A brilliant idea shed through her mind.

    Leaning in, she whispered, "Kali, I just thought of a way to ruin things between Citrine and Hastings."

    She pressed closer, murmuring the details into Kali''s ear.

    Kali''s face changed slightly. "No way. If something happens to me, I''m done for. Besides, the hospital''s blood bank is out of my type."

    She desperately wanted to break up Hastings and Citrine, but risking her own life was out of the question.

    Jete''s lips curled into a subtle smile. "It won''te to that, Kali."

    With a hard glint in her eye, she added, "I''ll tell you a secret: Citrine is RH negative." She''d seen it herself back when Citrine donated blood to Clifford Iverson; there was no mistaking it.

    "Are you sure?" Kali sounded doubtful.

    Jete nodded solemnly. "I saw the paperwork with my own eyes."

    Kali''s gaze darkened as she looked at Jete and gave a slow nod. "Alright."

    A new, far more brilliant n was already taking shape in her mind.

    She didn''t just want Hastings to leave Citrine; she wanted that girl dead.

    After all, the Glenwood family had money and influence-a life could be taken with barely a flick of the wrist.

    A few dayster, Kali organized a little gathering and invited Hastings, Theo, and Quentin Aldridge to join her.

    Theo and Quentin immediately sat down at her side, chatting and joking, eager to entertain her.

    Kali was used to being the center of attention. She basked in it, thoroughly enjoying the adoration.

    Only Hastings sat off to the side by himself, keeping his distance. Seeing his back turned, Kali felt a pang of resentment.

    She thought for a moment, then called out, "Hastings, I heard you''ve got a girlfriend now. Why don''t you call her and have her join us?"

    Theo straightened up and lit a cigarette. "Yeah, bring her over and introduce her to the guys. We''ll help you size her up."

    Quentin chimed in, "Seriously, Hastings, how long are you going to keep her under wraps? Bring her over and let us meet her already."

    At first, Hastings wanted to refuse, but then he remembered that Citrine hadn''t met his closest friends yet. He changed his mind.

    Looking at them, he said, "Alright, I''ll call her. But fair warning-she''s not like other girls. If shees, you''d better not give her a hard time."

    It was Saturday, so she should be at home rxing. Seeing that it wasn''t toote, Hastings sent Citrine a message.

 Chapter 412

    "Let''s go out."

    Citrine was scrolling through her phone when the message popped up. She replied almost instantly: Where? Send me your location.

    Her reply was so businesslike that anyone overhearing might have mistaken them

    for coworkers instead of a couple. Hastings couldn''t help butugh.

    "Look at him-grinning like he just hit the jackpot," Quentin snorted.

    Theo chimed in, "Looks like Hastings is really smitten this time."

    Both Theo and Quentin had always been curious about Hastings'' mysterious girlfriend. They''d wondered what kind of woman could make Hastings finally move on from his five or six-year crush on Kali. To them, no woman in the world could possiblypare to Kali.

    When Citrine arrived, Hastings went downstairs to greet her in person.

    They came up together, Hastings leading the way with Citrine right behind. The moment Theo and Quentin saw Citrine, their eyes widened in shock. Almost at the same time, they jumped up from the couch.

    "You?!" Quentin blurted out, pointing at Citrine in disbelief.

    Theo, on the other hand, managed to keep hisposure, but he didn''t take his eyes off Citrine from the moment she stepped in.

    Citrine ignored their stunned silence, bypassed any greetings, and found herself a seat.

    "You guys know each other?" Hastings looked around, puzzled by the awkward tension.

    Citrine was the first to speak. "Nope. Never met."

    Since Citrine had said so, Hastings shrugged it off and sat down right next to her.

    The two of them chatted idly, but to anyone watching, there was an unmistakable closeness between them.

    Meanwhile, although Theo and Quentin were still sitting beside Kali, their attention was fixed on Citrine and Hastings.

    With everyone''s gaze on Citrine, Kali''s expression darkened.

    She could understand if it was just Hastings, but what was going on with Theo

    and Quentin? Had they fallen under that vixen''s spell too?

    Kali''s practiced smile nearly faltered. She forced herself to maintain the poise expected of a wealthy heiress, quietly calling out to Theo and Quentin in hopes of snapping them out of it.

    But it was as if she didn''t exist. Even Quentin, who usually clung to her,pletely ignored her. She called their names several times, but neither responded.

    Kali''s patience finally snapped. She stood up abruptly and raised her voice. "Theo, Quentin!"

    That did the trick. The two finally snapped back to reality.

    Theo: "What''s up?"

    Quentin: "Sorry, Kali. I zoned out for a second."

    Kali''s expression softened a little. Looking at them, she said sweetly, "Theo, I''m thirsty. Could you go get me some fruit tea from that caf¨¦ on the south side of town?"

    "Of course," Theo said with a gentle smile, ruffling his sister''s hair like he''d done since they were kids.

    Seeing only Theo get up, Kali added, "Quentin, why don''t you go with him? Maybe pick up some pastries and snacks while you''re at it."

    "Sure thing." Quentin grabbed his car keys and followed Theo out without a second thought.

    Once they were gone, therge private room felt suddenly empty, leaving only Citrine, Hastings, and Kali.

    Kali made her move, sliding into the seat next to Hastings. Just like when they were little, she wrapped her arms around his and looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Hastings, I''m on my period and feel awful. Could you please go buy some pads for me?"

    "Buy them yourself." Hastings'' expression darkened as he pulled his arm away without hesitation. He shot a quick nce at Citrine, and only rxed when he saw that her face betrayed no emotion.

 Chapter 413

    Kali''s face froze, but she refused to give up. With big, pleading eyes, she looked at Hastings. "Hastings, have you forgotten? You used to take care of this for me."

    Hastings'' expression darkened. His voice was cold and sharp. "Kali, that''s enough."

    Clutching her stomach and putting on an exaggerated show of pain, Kali shot a nce at Citrine before turning back to Hastings. "But Hastings, my stomach really hurts."

    She''d been his little sister since childhood; after a moment''s hesitation, Hastings finally gave in.

    He looked over at Citrine, clearly ufortable. "Citrine, I''m going to run out and grab something for Kali. Could you wait here for me?"

    "I knew you''d always look after me, Hastings," Kali beamed, shooting Citrine a triumphant nce-her smugness barely concealed.

    Citrine sat silently to the side, listening to the two of them. Her face betrayed nothing, but when she caught the victorious glint in Kali''s eye, she curled her lips in a disdainful smirk.

    Idiot. As if Hastings means anything to me. Does she really think this would bother me?

    Let''s be honest-even if Hastings bought her tampons or changed them himself, Citrine couldn''t care less.

    Kali kept clutching her stomach and whining in pain, and Hastings started to grow anxious. Not bothering to wait for Citrine''s response, he hurried out the door.

    Citrine didn''t spare him so much as a nce.

    Once he left, the private lounge was reduced to just Citrine and Kali.

    Kali immediately dropped the act. She stood up, looming over Citrine, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "See? Hastings has always cared for me most. He''s even willing to buy my tampons."

    Citrine arched an eyebrow and delivered her words with biting indifference. "Guess you have no shame, huh? Making him buy your tampons and all."

    Kali''s face twisted with malice. "You... You''re the shameless one! If you hadn''t used your cheap tricks to seduce Hastings, why would he even bother with you?"

    Citrine rose from the couch, standing face-to-face with her.

    "So, you seem pretty obsessed with Hastings, don''t you?" Kali offered no reply.

    Suddenly, Citrineughed, her tone razor-sharp. "But I remember you used to fawn over Sebastian Vesper. What do you think he''d say if he found out you''re pining after him while making another guy buy you tampons? Wouldn''t it just make him sick to his stomach?"

    "You..." Kali''s face went pale as she jabbed an using finger at Citrine, but no words came.

    Citrine watched as the foundation on Kali''s cheeks did nothing to hide her ashenplexion. She didn''t let up. "Tell me, Kali-do you like Sebastian or is it Hastings, or maybe you''re greedy enough for both?"

    "You... You''re talking nonsense!" Kali''s face drained of color.

    Citrine had no patience for this. She turned to leave, but before she could take a step, Kali suddenly flung herself at the corner of the coffee table. Blood began to seep down her leg.

    The scene ovepped with one from Citrine''s past life, sending a chill down her spine. A sudden sense of foreboding crept over her.

    Just then, the door burst open.

    Hastings stood in the doorway, a bag of tampons in hand, his face contorted with shock as he took in the scene.

    The bag slipped from his grasp, falling to the floor. He rushed to Kali''s side, panic written all over his features.

    "Kali, what happened?!"

    Seeing the worry in his eyes, Kali''s own gaze flickered with satisfaction.

    She pressed a hand to her wound and said pitifully, "It''s nothing, Hastings. It wasn''t Citrine''s fault-she didn''t mean it."

    Before Hastings could say a word, Theo and Quentin pushed open the door and stepped into the room.

 Chapter 414

    "Kali!" Both of them cried out at once.

    "What happened? Who did this?" Theo''s face went pale. Kali had always been fragile, like a porcin doll, and seeing her like this made his heart ache.

    Without hesitation, he shot a re at Citrine, who stood off to the side, detached and unconcerned. His voice shook with anger. "Was it her? Did she do this?"

    Kali, on the verge of tears, shook her head quickly. "No, Citrine''s just a kid. Don''t be mad at her, big brother. It was my fault-I tripped and hit myself."

    Hearing his little sister defend Citrine, Theo''s expression darkened further. He red at Citrine with barely contained fury. "You''d better watch yourself."

    With that, Theo yanked Hastings away from Kali''s side and fixed him with an icy stare. "If anything happens to my sister tonight, I swear, you''ll regret it."

    He didn''t wait for a reply he just bent down, scooped Kali into his arms, and carried her straight out of the lounge.

    Quentin, who was usually the ss clown, suddenly looked deadly serious.

    He rounded on Hastings, his voice a harsh bark. ¡°Hastings, Kali has astic anemia. If anything goes wrong, neither Theo nor I will ever forgive you."

    Hastings'' face had gone grim as well. He''d grown up with Kali; of course he knew her condition. But faced with his friends'' usations, he could only swallow his protest and keep quiet.

    Quentin turned his re on Citrine, who remained impassive, arms crossed, face unreadable. ¡°You really are something else," he spat. "If anything happens to Kali, you will pay for it."

    Citrine, who had been content to watch from the sidelines until now, finally reacted. Her eyelids twitched; she turned, and without warning, pped Quentin hard across the face.

    "You did not just hit me!" Quentin gaped, clutching his cheek in disbelief. Not long ago, he''d been humiliated by Citrine at the Titan Showdown tournament; now she''d struck him again. Rage boiled up inside him.

    "If you can''t keep your mouth shut, I''ll help you with that," Citrine said coldly, her tone t.

    Quentin snarled, "Don''t think I won''t hit a woman."

    Citrine just snorted, remembering how she''d thrashed him before, and turned away, too contemptuous to waste another word.

    Hastings, who had been standing awkwardly to the side, saw the situation was about to explode. He grabbed Quentin and pulled him away.

    Then he walked over to Citrine, trying to sound reasonable. "Citrine, it really was your fault this time. You should apologize to Kaliter."

    Before he could finish, Citrine suddenlyughed a sharp, mirthless sound-and pped him across the face. "Idiot."

    Hastings just stood there, stunned, rubbing his cheek, unable to process what had just happened.

    Citrine ignored the two of them, grabbed her things, and left without a backward nce.

    As she walked out of the lounge, her expression grew colder and colder.

    She''d thought that after all this time, Hastings would at least give her the benefit

    of the doubt, wouldn''t rush to judge her like he had in her previous life. But clearly, she''d overestimated him.

    A leopard never changes its spots.

    But maybe that was for the best. After all, now that he''d finally fallen for her, it was time for him to learn what heartbreak really felt like.

    Last time, Kali''s scheme to frame her had only happened after she and Theo became a couple. In herst life, this scene had yed out when she was twenty. She hadn''t expected it toe two years earlier in this one.

    If she was right, Theo and the others would soon try to force her to donate blood to Kali.

    That was the moment, in her past life, when she''d officially be Kali''s personal blood bank-forced to give, again and again, for six or seven long years, whenever Kali needed it.

 Chapter 415

    After Citrine left, a faint ache lingered in Hastings'' chest.

    But with Kali still in the hospital, he had no choice but to follow Quentin there.

    On the hospital bed, Kali looked deathly pale, her lips drained of all color. His little sister-who''d grown up by his side-nowy listless and frail, as if all the life had been drained from her. Guilt gnawed at Hastings as he took in the scene.

    He stepped forward and offered a quiet apology. "I''m sorry, Kali. I''m apologizing on Citrine''s behalf as well."

    Kali forced a gentle, understanding smile. "It''s okay, Hastings. You don''t have to apologize for her. Besides, Citrine didn''t mean any harm. I don''t me her."

    Quentin couldn''t stand it any longer. He snorted coldly. "How can you not me her, Kali? It''s obvious that woman is the reason you''re here! If not for her, you wouldn''t have to suffer like this. Honestly, she should be here on her knees begging for forgiveness."

    "Enough. That''s enough." Hastings'' brow furrowed. Citrine had made a mistake, sure, but Quentin was going too far.

    "You''re still defending that woman?" Quentin''s voice rose, bristling with anger. "Hastings, what''s wrong with you? Kali''s the one who''s hurt-your own sister, the one you grew up with! And yet you defend the person who hurt her, right in front of her. Don''t you see how much that could hurt Kali?"

    Already on edge, Quentin lost his temper. Without another word, he grabbed Hastings by the cor and punched him hard.

    Theo, standing nearby, pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, his expression darkening. He barked at them, "Enough! Both of you, knock it off!"

    He took a shaky breath, voiceced with urgency. "The blood bank''s running low. We need RH negative blood, and we need it now. Use every connection you have get the family to mobilize all their resources. I want that blood here within two hours."

    The gravity of the situation hit Hastings and Quentin instantly. They dropped everything and started making frantic calls, reaching out to anyone who might be able to help.

    Just then, Jete swept in, carrying a basket of fruit.

    "Kali, I''m here!"

    Seeing her, Kali managed a faint smile. "Jete,e on in."

    Theo, ever the responsible one, introduced her to the others. "This is my uncle''s daughter-my cousin."

    "Nice to meet you," the two men said in unison, giving her a polite nod.

    Jete hadn''t expected Theo''s brothers to be so handsome. She paused, suddenly understanding why Kali might feel a bit threatened.

    After exchanging pleasantries, she feigned ignorance and casually brought up Kali''s hospitalization. Theo, a touch more patient with his younger cousin, exined everything that had happened.

    Jete''s eyes sparkled with an idea. "Theo, I just remembered¡ªmy foster sister has RH negative blood."

    All three men turned to stare at her, hope flickering across their faces.

    Theo had heard tidbits about the Iverson family from Aline, so he knew a little about Jete''s foster sister.

    His voice trembled with urgency. "Who is she? Where is she now?"

    Jete replied, "Her name''s Citrine Carmichael. She''s the eldest daughter of the Carmichael family now. They adore her, and honestly, she''s not the easiest person to deal with. I doubt she''ll agree to donate."

    Theo''s expression hardened, a cold edge to his eyes. "She doesn''t get a choice. If it weren''t for her, my sister wouldn''t be like this. Even if she refuses, I''ll drag her here myself."

    He turned to the others. "You stay here with Kali. Hastings-you''reing with me. Let''s bring her in."

    "Alright." Kali''s life hung in the bnce; Hastings, face grim, could only nod.

    Meanwhile, Citrine was stretched out, happily binge-watching her favorite show- until a sudden, heavy pounding rattled the door.

 Chapter 416

    "Looks like the idiot finally showed up."

    Citrine paused her movie with an annoyed sigh, grabbed her phone, and called the police. Once she hung up, she slipped on her headphones and stretched out on the couch, perfectly at ease.

    Outside, Theo was pounding on the front door like a madman. Standing next to him, Hastings lit a cigarette, watching but making no move to intervene.

    Half an hour went by, but Citrine never came to the door.

    Just then, a group of police officers in uniform strode up.

    "Stop right there! What do you think you''re doing? Breaking into someone''s home is illegal."

    One of the officers stepped in, halting Theo''s frantic banging.

    Theo shot them a look of utter disdain and snarled, "My sister''s in the hospital because of her-she nearly died. She needs a blood transfusion right now. We''re just here to make her help. That''s not too much to ask, is it?"

    As he finished, the door suddenly swung open.

    Citrine stood there in a thin sweater, meeting the officers with politeposure. "First of all, I didn''t hurt his sister. She did it to herself, and I have proof. Secondly, I''d be happy to show you."

    Theo gave a harshugh, clearly unmoved. "Yeah, right. Like my sister would hurt herself on purpose-she''s not an idiot."

    Citrine nodded, a satisfied little smile on her lips. "Actually, you got that right¡ª your sister really is an idiot."

    "You-" Theo''s face twisted with anger. For a moment, he was at a loss for words.

    Seeing the tension, one of the officers frowned. "Alright, all three of you need toe down to the station with us. Let''s get this cleared up."

    Citrine didn''t object. Theo and Hastings, desperate to get that blood transfusion, were quick to agree.

    Theo snorted. "Let''s see how cocky you are once we get to the station."

    Citrine ignored him, giving the officers a courteous nod before stepping back inside to grab her things. She didn''t bother changing-just closed the door behind her and followed them out.

    It was freezing outside. Hastings nced at Citrine, noticing she was still in just that thin sweater. Without a word, he shrugged off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.

    Theo watched the exchange, irritation prickling under his skin. He couldn''t help muttering, "We''re in the middle of a crisis, and you''re flirting? Seriously, Hastings? Grow up."

    He couldn''t stop himself from snapping, "How can you still be fawning over her like some lovesick puppy? She''s poison, man."

    Hastings ignored him. All his focus was on Citrine. Ever since Kali''s ident, something about her felt different, and beneath it all, he was a little afraid.

    Citrine let Hastings put the coat around her shoulders. It was still warm from his body heat,forting in the biting cold. She smirked, eyes shing with contempt. With a flick of her finger, she hooked the coat and dropped it on the ground, clearly unimpressed.

    Hastings'' face fell. "Citrine, don''t be ridiculous. It''s freezing out here. If you go around dressed like that, you''ll catch a cold." His tone was gentle, almost like he was scolding a child.

    Citrine turned, meeting his gaze with a wicked grin. Her voice was sharp, full of impatience. "Quit dumping your stuff on me. It''s filthy."

    "Citrine?" Hastings stared at her, wounded. He''d never seen her look so cold.

    Her eyes were icy, her words intentionally cruel. Seeing Hastings hurt only made her more pleased.

    She pressed on, "You make me sick, Hastings. I thought you were different from the others."

    The disgust in her voice left Hastings frozen in ce, stunned.

    A few steps away, the officers exchanged baffled looks.

    "What the hell is going on with these three?" one of them muttered.

 Chapter 417

    At the police station, Citrine exined the situation to the officers, then added, "I have evidence on my phone that can prove I''m innocent."

    "Don''t bother pretending," Theo snapped, his eyes turning cold. He tugged impatiently at the corner of his mouth. "My sister would never lie. There''s no way you have any evidence."

    Citrine looked at him calmly and let out a quietugh. "If your sister can''t possibly lie, then what motive would I have to make something up? Besides, I had no reason to push Kali."

    Theo scoffed. "No reason? Of course you did! You''re jealous of her!"

    Citrine couldn''t help herself-she burst outughing.

    She tilted her chin up, her grin wide as she looked Theo right in the eye. "Jealous of her? Please. I''m Citrine Carmichael-smart, attractive, and top of my ss at Crestwood University. What could I possibly be jealous of? Her darker skin? Her looks? The fact that she can''t even carry her own bag? Or maybe I should envy her for barely scraping into Crestwood at the bottom of the admissions list?"

    Theo was speechless, stung into silence by the blunt truth. The worst part was, everything Citrine said was true. Kali wasn''t as pretty, wasn''t as fair-skinned, wasn''t as healthy, and had barely managed to rank fiftieth on the entrance exams. After a moment, Theo rallied. His expression darkened. "You''re dating Hastings, and Kali''s his baby sister. Of course you''re jealous-what''s so unreasonable about that?"

    Citrine nearlyughed again, equal parts exasperated and amused. "Who told you I''m dating Hastings?"

    Theo and Hastings both turned to stare at her, startled.

    Before either of them could get a word in, Citrine shot a look at Hastings, her lips curling into a smile borrowed straight from Kali. "Let me be absolutely clear," she said. "I''m not Hastings'' girlfriend. Not now, not ever, not in this lifetime."

    "And as for jealousy?" She waved a hand dismissively. "If I were ever jealous, it''d be of someone better than me-not someone who can''t even hold a candle."

    Theo''s face flushed an angry red. "You''re going too far-"

    Citrine just gave a cold littleugh and ignored him.

    Hastings, who''d been quietly listening from the side, felt his heart sink. He tried, almost pleadingly, "Citrine, you didn''t mean that, did you?"

    He reached for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket out of habit, then remembered where he was and withdrew his hand.

    Citrine didn''t bother responding. Instead, right in front of the two officers, she unlocked her phone and pulled up the surveince footage.

    "This video will clear my name."

    Hastings and Theo both leaned in, unable to help themselves.

    The video was crystal clear-every face, every word, all caught on camera.

    It showed that after Theo and Quentin left, Kali hurried over to Hastings and begged him to buy her some feminine products.

    "Hastings, my period just started and I feel terrible. Could you go out and get me some pads?" Kali''s voice whined from the speaker.

    "Go buy them yourself," Hastings replied the first time, but Kali didn''t give up.

    She clung to him, turning on the puppy eyes. "Come on, Hastings! Don''t you remember? You always used to get them for me."

    Hastings still shook his head. "Kali, enough."

    Kali pouted, acting even more pathetic. "But, Hastings, my stomach really hurts..."

    As the officers watched, their faces grew more and more incredulous.

    Her acting was so bad it was painful-even a stranger could see she was faking, let alone seasoned police officers.

    They tsked in unison, ncing first at Citrine, then at Hastings with a look of resigned sympathy. "Son, if you really care about a girl, don''t let yourself get caught up in a love triangle. This one''s obviously faking it."

    Hastings went pale. "That''s not what''s happening!"

 Chapter 418

    The officer let out a coldugh. "Then why were you buying tampons for the other woman? Why were you so eager to help her? Anyone could see she was just faking it¡ªyou expect us to believe you didn''t notice?"

    Hastings started to exin, but before he could get a word out, Theo mmed his fist on the table. "Who the hell are you calling ''the other woman''?¡±

    His face was twisted with anger, and he red at the officers, looking ready to take a swing at them.

    The two officers didn''t take Theo seriously at all. One of them calmly stood up and shoved Theo back down onto his chair, holding him there with a firm grip.

    "You''re her brother, right? Then maybe you should keep your sister in line," the officer said, unhurried and cool. "The young man obviously likes Ms. Carmichael, but your sister insisted he buy her tampons. Sure, maybe the guy should have set some boundaries, but this just isn''t right, is it?"

    The older officer, a blunt and no-nonsense type, didn''t bother to soften his words. "Not right? It''s downright shameless-trying to y the other woman and not even embarrassed about it."

    "I don''t know what kind of parenting leads to this. If it were my kid, I''d give her a lesson or two so she''d know the meaning of dignity and self-respect."

    "Shut up," Theo snapped, his face dark, his voice icy.

    Young men were always quick to lose their tempers. The two officers exchanged a look, then wisely dropped the subject and turned back to the security footage.

    On the screen, only Citrine and Kali remained in the lounge.

    Kali crossed her arms and sauntered to stand in front of Citrine. "You see? Hastings always took care of me-even bought me tampons when I needed them."

    Citrine shot her a withering look. "That''s pretty shameless, isn''t it? Can''t believe you made him do even that for you."

    Kali bristled. "You-You''re the shameless one! If you hadn''t used your dirty tricks to seduce Hastings, he never would''ve paid you any attention."

    Citrine arched an eyebrow. "You seem awfully invested in who Hastings likes."

    She paused, then continued, "I thought you were into Sebastian, weren''t you? What do you think he''d say if he knew you were pining for him, but getting another guy to buy you tampons on the side? Bet he''d lose his appetite."

    ¡°Kali, be honest¡ªdo you like Sebastian, or Hastings? Or maybe you just want both."

    Citrine''s barrage of questions left Kali speechless.

    Just then, the door to the lounge rattled as though someone pushed against it. In the next moment, Kali threw herself against the sharp edge of the coffee table.

    Everyone knew what happened after that. Watching the security footage, Hastings'' face turned ashen.

    "Citrine," he muttered.

    He''d misjudged her. A sh of regret clouded Hastings'' eyes. For once, he didn''t know how to face Citrine.

    Theo stared at the video, disbelief written all over his face. "No. My sister would never lie."

    Citrine smirked, while Kali forced a smile. "The evidence is right here. If you think I faked the video, you''re wee to have it examined."

    The officer shrugged. "You''ve all seen it. This ''other woman'' started the fight with Ms. Carmichael, then tried to frame her. From start to finish, Ms. Carmichael did nothing wrong-she''s the real victim here."

    The older officer nced at Citrine, his eyes softening with a hint of sympathy. His tone gentled as he added, "Ms. Carmichael, I have to admit, the way you put the other woman in her ce was pretty satisfying-even for us to watch. But next time something like this happens, call the police. Don''t take matters into your own hands. People like her-well, jealousy can make them do anything, and you never know when they''ll try to pin something on you."

    Citrine nodded politely and responded loudly, "Thank you, officer. Next time I''ll call the police first-I don''t n on getting set up again."

 Chapter 419

    The police insisted Theo and Hastings apologize to Citrine before finally letting them leave.

    As soon as they stepped out of the station, Theo''s face was thunderous. He strode ahead, grabbing Citrine''s arm. "You''reing with me."

    The moment she felt his loathsome presence draw near, a flicker of disgust shed in Citrine''s eyes. Her brow furrowed in contempt. "Get lost," she snapped. She jerked her arm free from Theo''s grip, as if shaking off something filthy.

    "Theo, what the hell is wrong with you?" Hastings shot him an annoyed re and hurried over, positioning himself protectively between Theo and Citrine.

    He stared Theo down, his voice ice-cold. "We used Citrine for nothing. Kali did this to herself. Citrine had nothing to do with it."

    Guilt and fear gnawed at Hastings. They''d falsely med Citrine, and now he couldn''t even imagine asking her to help Kali, let alone donate blood.

    Theo''s eyes narrowed, his tone chilling. "So what? She''s O negative. Right now, she''s the only one who can save Kali."

    "Hastings, Kali''s lying in a hospital bed, barely hanging on. Are you really going to stand there and watch her die? Don''t forget, you always looked out for her when you were kids."

    Kali might have made mistakes, but she was still the little sister they''d grown up with. If she didn''t get a transfusion soon, she wouldn''t make it.

    Hastings hesitated, torn.

    After a long pause, he finally stepped aside, ncing at Citrine with pleading eyes. "Citrine, I''m begging you. Please, save Kali."

    "I know she did awful things, but she''s still the sister I watched grow up. For my sake, please help her."

    Citrine let out a sardonicugh. "For your sake?"

    "Hastings, don''t tter yourself. You mean nothing to me."

    "And no, I''m not giving her my blood. You want me to save someone who tried to hurt me? What do you take me for¡ªa gullible saint?¡±

    With that, Citrine turned to leave.

    Before she could get far, Theo''s gaze hardened and he blocked her path from the other side, staring her down.

    "You''re giving my sister a transfusion today. No arguments."

    "Oh really? And why''s that-because you''re shameless?" Citrine shot back, her tone scornful.

    Theo''s lips twisted into a sneer. "Because the Glenwood family could crush your precious Carmichaels like a bug. Don''t forget who you''re dealing with."

    Typical Glenwood heir, Citrine thought. Rotten to the core, treating other people''s lives like they''re nothing.

    She arched an eyebrow,pletely unfazed. "Go ahead. Try me."

    Theo lunged for her arm. Just as he reached out, Citrine whipped around and pped him hard across the face.

    The crack echoed in the air, sharp and satisfying.

    Theo pped a hand to his cheek, his voice incredulous. "Did you just hit me?" "What if I did?" Citrine thought. Not only will I hit you, I''ll ruin you someday. Theo''s expression twisted with rage, and he reached for her hair without a word. Citrine didn''t hesitate. She kicked him square in the gut.

    "Idiot," she spat.

    Without another nce, she slid behind the wheel of her car, floored the gas, and sped off.

    Theo doubled over, clutching his stomach, watching Citrine''s car disappear down the street. Helpless fury burned in his eyes, but there was nothing he could do.

    Just then, his phone rang.

    "Sir, we found her. There''s hope for Miss Kali."

    Relief flickered across Theo''s face, and he rushed back to the hospital.

    Hastings, however, didn''t follow. Instead, he trailed Citrine''s car all the way to Verona Heights.

    As Citrine got out, Hastings pulled up right behind her. She frowned when she saw him, annoyance coloring her voice. "What do you want?"

    "Citrine, I came to apologize." The hurt in Hastings'' eyes deepened when he sensed her coldness.

    Citrine nced at him, her voice cool and distant. "Don''t bother. I doubt we''ll ever cross paths again."

 Chapter 420

    "What''s that supposed to mean?" Hastings''s face changed in an instant, a sh of fear in his eyes.

    Citrine smiled, repeating herself, "Let''s not see each other anymore."

    "You''re breaking up with me?" Hastings managed to get the words out, his voice strained.

    Before she could reply, he rushed on, "No, I won''t ept that."

    "Is this because of Kali?"

    Hastings had never felt this anxious or full of regret in his life.

    Break up? Citrine nearlyughed. ¡°Hastings, we were never together to begin with. There''s nothing to break up."

    He searched her face for some sign that she was joking, but found nothing.

    He pressed his lips together, voice rough. "But we went to the movies together. We hung out, went ces..."

    Citrine gave him a surprised look. "Wait-you actually thought we were dating?"

    "Weren''t we?" Thest bit of hope in Hastings''s eyes faded.

    Citrine was genuinely astonished by his naivety.

    She looked him dead in the eye, her tone deliberate and clear. "No, we weren''t." "Think about it. Do you remember me ever saying I wanted to be with you?" Hastings racked his brain, reying every moment they''d shared-movies, walks, art exhibits¡ªbut she''d never once said those words. And now that he thought about it, Citrine had always kept things perfectly tonic. She''d never crossed a line.

    He realized, painfully, that it had all been wishful thinking on his part.

    Hastings froze, staring at Citrine. After a long beat, he asked quietly, "Even if we weren''t together... can I just ask-did you ever like me?"

    The question made his heart clench. He was torn between desperately wanting her answer, and dreading what she might say.

    Citrine didn''t hesitate. Her lips barely moved as she said, "No."

    The single word hit Hastings like a knife to the chest.

    He went pale, nearly losing his bnce. "No... I can''t believe you never liked me. Not once."

    He stepped forward, reaching out to grab her shoulders, but Citrine quickly moved back, putting distance between them.

    "It''s true. I never liked you, not in that way." Her gaze was cold, unyielding.

    Hastings''s expression shifted. ¡°Is it because I never actually told you how I felt?"

    Before Citrine could respond, Hastings dropped to one knee. "Citrine, I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?"

    She let out a soft, amusedugh. "No, I won''t."

    His eyes were rimmed red, but he still refused to give up. ¡°Is this because I misunderstood you? Because I made you give blood for Kali? Is that why you hate me now?"

    Citrine fell silent for a moment.

    If Hastings believed Kali was the reason for this rift, would he me her? She couldn''t help but feel a small thrill of anticipation.

    "Yes," Citrine said pointedly, lying through her teeth.

    Hastings looked lost, scrambling to make amends. "I''m sorry, I''m really sorry. I shouldn''t have made you do that. I promise it''ll never happen again."

    Hastings had always been headstrong, never one to bow his head. Yet now, he was practically begging, his pride in tatters.

    He felt a sudden, bitter resentment toward the little sister he''d grown up with.

    Citrine, catching this, shook her head and let a mischievous smile curl her lips. She deliberately twisted the knife. "Sorry, but it''s toote. I don''t like you anymore."

    For a split second, hope flickered in Hastings''s eyes. So she had liked him once.

    That fragile hope was enough to steady him. He apologized again, voice trembling. "I''m sorry, Citrine. Just tell me what do I have to do for you to forgive me?"

 Chapter 421

    Citrine''s lips curled into a sly, almost mocking smile as she looked at him, her words sharp and venomous. "Forgive you? Sure-if Kali just dropped dead."

    Hastings recoiled, genuinely stunned by her cruelty. "You... you hate Kali that much?"

    She held his gaze in silence for a moment, then suddenlyughed. "Rx. I''m just kidding."

    Rolling her eyes in open exasperation, she waved him off. "Just go already. If you keep pestering me, I''ll only end up despising you more."

    It was obvious now-Citrine couldn''t even be bothered to pretend with Hastings anymore.

    Whatever hint of warmth had been on his face vanished, reced by a cold, stormy expression.

    "Citrine Carmichael, are you just messing with me?" His eyes hardened, an edge of menace flickering there.

    She shrugged, utterly indifferent. "And if I am?"

    How ridiculous, he thought bitterly. He was the only son of the powerful Crestwood Cooper family, a man with influence and status-yet here he was, being toyed with by a woman.

    Hastings'' jaw tightened, his whole body tense and trembling with fury. "You really think you can treat me like this? Aren''t you afraid I''ll pay you back for it?"

    Citrine arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "You? Would you really?"

    She knew full well he wouldn''t darey a finger on her. That was exactly why she could be so brazen.

    Hastings let out a strangled, incredulousugh, his jaw working as he red at her with a sh of something almost feral. "Why are you so sure I won''t?"

    "Because you''re in love with me." She shed him a wicked grin. "Loyal dogs don''t bite their owner."

    That was enough for her. Citrine stifled a yawn, her patience clearly running out. "Enough. Don''t follow me anymore."

    Without waiting for a reply, she turned and strode away, making it clear she was done with him.

    Hastings'' face changed in an instant. For the first time, a cold, unfamiliar fear twisted in his chest.

    Her indifference was absolute-soplete it chilled him to the bone. For the first time, panic crept in.

    Right then, he realized Citrine might truly be finished with him.

    Eyes rimmed red, Hastings stared helplessly at her retreating figure, on the verge of falling apart.

    He shouted after her, his voice cracking, "Why... why are you doing this to me?" Citrine stopped in her tracks.

    Why?

    She''d asked him the same question once before.

    It was three years into her rtionship with Theo. He''d wanted her to meet Hastings and Quentin, his two brothers.

    She remembered it vividly-the first time she''d met them, she''de bearing thoughtful gifts. But before she could even hand them out, she''d received a "surprise" that had been carefully nned by those two.

    Theo had made a reservation at a fancy restaurant, and the ce was packed with Crestwood''s young elite.

    Then, without warning, Theo imed he had urgent business at the office and left. Hastings and his crew had ushered her to the seat of honor, treating her with such exaggerated respect that she let her guard downpletely. When they toasted her, she didn''t hesitate to drink.

    A few ssester, she was dizzy and weak, barely able to stand.

    She had a vague memory of hands grabbing her, dragging her into a cramped private room. After that, everything went ck.

    She woke up the next morning, sprawled on the icy tile floor. Blinking awake, she found Hastings and Quentin standing over her, arms crossed, looking down with sneering contempt.

    Hastings'' eyes burned with disgust as he spat, "Just a nobody from the Iverson family, and you dare upset our precious Kali?"

    Quentin snorted, echoing the sentiment. "Yeah, an orphan with no family¡ªif I wanted to get rid of you, no one would even notice. If you weren''t Theo''s girlfriend,st night would''ve ended a whole lot worse for you."

 Chapter 422

    Hastings stared coldly at Citrine, then pped her twice, sharp and dismissive. "I''m warning you don''t make Kali upset again. Next time, you won''t get off this easy."

    Citrine was still in the dark about what had happened the night before. She looked at the two of them, bewildered. Not long ago, they''d been falling over themselves to be kind to her, calling her "sis" and treating her like family. Now, in the blink of an eye, their warmth had turned to ice.

    Before she could speak, Hastings hurled a stack of photographs at her. The pictures scattered in a messy flurry across the floor. As Citrine bent to pick them up, her face drained of color.

    Every photo was of her.

    She saw herself, disheveled, skin exposed, her clothes slipping off her shoulders. In a few of the shots, a powerful, masculine arm was wrapped tightly around her chest¡ªa man''s arm, unmistakably.

    Suddenly, Citrine understood what Quentin had meant by "the real deal."

    "How could you do this?" Her hand trembled as she gripped the photos, her face ashen.

    Quentin justughed, utterly unfazed. "That''s what you get for crossing our princess Kali."

    Hastings'' gaze was razor-sharp as he fixed it on her. "Listen to me, Citrine. Kali is our darling, our princess. You? You''re just a stray with no one to care about you. You''re not even fit to shine her shoes. If you make Kali unhappy again, I won''t let it slide."

    Citrine looked at them in disbelief. "Is this all because of Kali?"

    "That''s right," Hastings replied without hesitation.

    Still lost, Citrine stammered, ¡°But I haven''t done anything to her."

    Quentin''s temper snapped. He jabbed a finger at her face, shouting, "You nearly killed Kali, and you act like you''re meless? How can you be so heartless?"

    He seemed to get angrier just thinking about it. "If I wasn''t a man, I''d teach you a lesson right now." To vent his frustration, he kicked the sofa hard enough to make it shudder.

    Citrine stood frozen, her mind spinning.

    She racked her memory for anything that might exin this. Aside from the other day, when Kali needed a blood transfusion and she''d arrived a littlete-which had left Kali sulking-there hadn''t been any conflict.

    To think it was all over that... It was beyond ridiculous.

    Her anger red. "I gave her my blood of my own free will. That''s not my duty. So I waste-how does that give you the right to treat me like this?"

    "I''m not her personal servant."

    Quentin shrugged, indifferent. "So what? Kali''s special. You''re nothing."

    Hastings, equally merciless, added darkly, "I don''t care if you volunteered or not. You almost dyed Kali''s transfusion. For that alone, you deserve whatever you get."

    He smirked, voice cold. "You''re here for one reason: to give Kali blood. You''ll keep doing it until there''s nothing left to give. So you''d better behave."

    Citrine stared at the two of them in disbelief, unable to process the cruelty in their words.

    She refused to argue anymore. Quietly, she knelt and began picking up the scattered photos, one by one.

    When she''d finished, she shot Hastings a frosty re. "Give me the backups."

    He snorted. "Not a chance."

    Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to look away. "I haven''t done anything wrong. I don''t owe Kali anything. Why do you treat me like this?"

    All she got in return was a mockingugh.

    As her thoughts settled, she noticed Hastings standing nearby, watching her intently, waiting for some kind of answer.

    Citrine turned, meeting his gaze with a faint, enigmatic smile. "You reap what you Sow."

    Hastings didn''t understand, but Citrine hadn''t expected him to.

 Chapter 423

    Back home, Citrine uncorked a bottle of red wine. Settling onto the sofa with her cat curled up on herp, she absentmindedly stroked its fur with one hand and sipped her wine with the other, her thoughts gradually growing hazy.

    In her previous life, after their first bitter falling out, the hostility from Hastings and Quentin had only intensified with each passing day.

    They made it their mission to humiliate her-pulling childish pranks, setting her up to embarrass herself, hurling insults at every opportunity. It became a relentless campaign of ridicule.

    The moment that seared itself most deeply in her memory happened at Theo''s birthday party. That day, in front of everyone, Hastings jabbed a finger in her face and spat out:

    "You''re nothing but Theo''s patheticpdog, always at his beck and call. Living off his charity like some worthless parasite, and you actually think you matter? I can''t stand women like you-no self-respect, all vanity and cheapness."

    For some reason, of all the things from her past life, Hastings'' words remained crystal clear in her mind.

    So much so, that the first time she saw Hastings in this life, she found herself scheming.

    If Hastings despised women without dignity, why not let him experience it himself? Let him be thepdog, the one stripped of pride, the very thing he loathed

    most.

    Citrine couldn''t help but think-it would be deliciously entertaining.

    Ever since Theo learned about Citrine''s blood type, he''d been quietly plotting.

    With someone like her as a backup blood donor, his sister''s safety would be nearly guaranteed.

    After some thought, Theo decided to bring the matter to his father. He knew that if his father acted, the issue would be settled.

    Theo''s father, Talbot Glenwood, was the head of Crestwood''s most powerful family¡ªa man whose influence stretched over the entire city. More importantly, he controlled an enormous undergroundwork, which had made him fabulously wealthy over the years.

    Thiswork had also allowed him to bring other elite families¡ªthe Coopers, the Aldridges, and several others-under his sway, sometimes even making them bow to his will.

    As soon as he heard about the situation, Talbot moved quickly, reaching out to Citrine to negotiate.

    "One billion dors. Be my daughter''s designated blood donor."

    Talbot thought he was being exceedingly generous, but Citrine didn''t hesitate to refuse. "Not a chance."

    Talbot was used to getting his way, used to looking down from his throne. No one, especially not someone of the younger generation, had ever dared turn him down so bluntly. He left with a face like thunder.

    Citrine had expected trouble from refusing the old bastard, and tried to be as cautious as possible, but there was only so much she could do. The next few days were a series of near-misses.

    First, a car inexplicably swerved at her on the street. Then someone followed her, trying to corner her. After that, a stranger tried to jab her with a needle. Luckily, Citrine managed to deal with each incident, never letting them seed.

    But she knew she couldn''t keep dodging threats forever. There was only one real solution: reveal her true identity.

    If she became the chairwoman of CICI Group, even Talbot would be forced to think twice before acting. Businessmen like him didn''t make reckless moves unless they were sure they could destroy their opponent in one blow, and Talbot knew the Glenwood Group could never easily crush CICI.

    Citrine hesitated, but finally decided she''d announce her identity in a few days. At that moment, in a private lounge at an exclusive club-

    Monica was mingling with Crestwood''s socialites and trust fund heirs, clinking sses and exchanging favors.

    Suddenly, one of the young men piped up, "Did you guys hear? The Glenwood family finally found a perfect, living blood match for their sickly daughter."

    Everyone knew about Kali''s frail health; the news wasn''t exactly a shock, though a few people raised their eyebrows in mild surprise.

    "Mr. Lynn, how''d you find out?" someone asked, curiosity piqued.

    Mr. Lynn grinned. "My dad was drinking with Talbotst night. He let it slip."

    He puffed up with pride. "And that''s not all I know exactly who the unlucky donor

    is."

    "Who?" someone pressed.

    Mr. Lynn leaned in, clearly enjoying the attention. "Rumor is, it''s the eldest daughter of the Carmichael family-the ones who just moved to Crestwood. Raymond''s kid. I think her name is Ci..."

 Chapter 424

    He mulled it over for a moment, and then his eyes lit up. "I remember now-it''s Citrine Carmichael."

    At the same time, Monica''s head snapped up, her gaze locking onto Mr. Lynn with a sense of urgency. "Are you sure?"

    Mr. Lynn thumped his chest in reassurance. "Absolutely sure."

    Monica pressed on. "What else do you know? Tell me everything."

    Without a hint of hesitation, Mr. Lynn betrayed his own father, selling him out in a heartbeat.

    Seeing Monica''s interest, he continued eagerly, "My dad said Talbot has tried to take down Ms. Carmichael more than once, but she''s got the luck of the devil. Every time, she''s managed to slip away unharmed."

    He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "My dad also said the Glenwood family won''t let her go. Sooner orter, she''ll end up as Kali''s personal blood bank."

    Monica''s face drained of color, anger flickering in her eyes.

    The thought that her sister was in danger made it impossible for Monica to stay calm.

    She grabbed her bag and rushed out of the club.

    Over the years, the Glenwoods had done plenty of business with the Saunders family, and their influence was nothing to scoff at. Monica knew she had to let her aunt know what was happening-only her aunt might have the power to do something.

    Wasting no time, Monica drove straight to thepany.

    Inside C. Corp, Hilda was just about to meet with some international clients in the conference room when Monica burst in.

    Hilda shot her a cold look, her voice icy. "What is it now? Can''t you act with a little decorum?"

    Monica, too anxious to care about her usual fear of her aunt, looked Hilda straight in the eye. "Aunt Hilda, I have something urgent to tell you."

    Hilda''s gaze grew even frostier. She set down her pen and leveled Monica with a steely re. "Get out. I have important clients waiting."

    The force of Hilda''s authority made Monica tremble, but she refused to back down.

    Forcing herself to meet Hilda''s eyes, she spoke each word with

    determination. "Aunt Hilda, I''ve found my sister. The Glenwoods are after her-Talbot wants to tum her into Kali''s living blood supply."

    Hilda mmed her palm on the table, eyes dark with menace. "Monica, how dare

    you bring her up? Are you looking for trouble?"

    "Don''t think I won''t discipline you just because you''re my niece."

    "Get out."

    Without hesitation, she grabbed a paperweight from the table and hurled it at Monica.

    It struck Monica in the head.

    Warm blood trickled down her forehead. Ignoring the pain, Monica clutched her head and dropped to her knees with a thud. "Aunt Hilda, please I''m begging you. Talbot is ruthless. If this goes on, she''t be killed."

    Hilda let out a derisiveugh, a wild glint in her eye. "So what? She''s not my daughter."

    Her own daughter was gone. The fate of anyone else meant nothing to her.

    Monica''s desperation grew. "She is. She''s your daughter."

    Monica understood her aunt''s harshness. After years of failed searches and disappointment, Hilda had long since broken down. It was no wonder she didn''t believe her; Monica couldn''t even me her.

    Hilda nced at her watch, irritation shing in her eyes. "Shut up, you idiot. Do you have any idea how important this meeting is? If you mess this up, can you fix it?"

    Monica''s voice broke with urgency. "Aunt Hilda, no business deal is worth more than your own daughter. Please-I''m begging you to save Citrine."

    She added, her tone steely, "If you don''t, I promise you''ll regret it for the rest of your life."

    Hilda was about tosh out again, but at that name, she froze. "What...what did you just say?"

    "Citrine? Her name is Citrine?" Hilda''s voice trembled with sudden emotion.

    Monica''s eyes brightened with hope. "Yes. Her name is Citrine Carmichael."

 Chapter 425

    Citrine was the name Hilda had chosen for her daughter long before she was born.

    Even before the baby''s first heartbeat, Hilda had already decided: her little girl would be called Citrine.

    On the day Citrine was born, Hilda crafted a delicate silver locket for her newborn. She engraved the name "Citrine" into the metal herself¡ªa simple, loving promise for her daughter''s future.

    But when her daughter disappeared, that locket vanished with her.

    Now, a surge of emotion washed over Hilda as she looked at Monica, her voice turning grave. "Send me her information," she said.

    Monica had been waiting for this moment, her heart leaping with hope. "Aunt Hilda, I already sent you her file ages ago. You just never checked it."

    Hilda''s expression faltered for a moment, but she quickly masked it and opened their message thread. Sure enough, there it was-Citrine''s profile.

    She tapped it open, and before she could even scroll down, a photograph caught her breath.

    A young woman smiled at the camera, her high ponytail bouncing with youthful energy.

    Hilda''s gaze lingered on the girl''s face.

    Those features, that gentle curve of the jaw, the shape of her eyes-she looked so much like Hilda herself.

    Just looking at her filled Hilda with a warmth she''d never known before, a sense of belonging that felt almost instinctive.

    With tears brimming in her eyes, she asked Monica, "Can I meet her?" Even though she knew disappointment was possible, Hilda couldn''t bear the thought of not trying.

    Before Monica could answer, Hilda pressed on, her voice trembling with urgency. "I want to see her now." Deep inside, she was convinced this was her daughter.

    Monica hesitated, rising from her seat. "It might not be so easy," she admitted, ncing at Hilda with uncertainty.

    She exined, "I met Citrine through Sylvia. Maybe I was a bit too eagerst time ¡ªshe must have realized I wanted to get a DNA sample. After that, I asked Sylvia to arrange another meeting, but Citrine turned down every invitation.¡±

    "It''s my fault," Monica added, her regret in. "If I hadn''t pushed so hard, I wouldn''t have scared her off."

    A momentter, a thought struck Monica. Her eyes lit up, and she eximed, ¡°Wait! Aunt Hilda, Sylvia told me Citrine studies at Crestwood University. We could go to the campus-maybe we''ll run into her."

    She continued, "Sylvia said Citrine''s really well-known around school."

    Hilda didn''t hesitate. Her longing to see her daughter overwhelmed everything else. "Let''s go. Now."

    Just then, Hilda''s assistant appeared, bowing slightly. "President Saunders, our international clients are asking when we''ll be ready to begin. They''re pressing for a timeline."

    Hilda didn''t even nce his way. "We''re not starting," she replied coolly. "Tell them to pack up."

    "Let them know we''ll revisit the partnership another time. I have more important matters to deal with. And apologize-tell them''m 1. willing to offer concessions. But if they walk away, I''ll ept that.¡±

    With that, Hilda swept out of C. Corp with Monica at her side.

    They headed straight for Crestwood University.

    It was Monday, and most students were in ss; the campuswns and walkways were nearly deserted.

    With time on their hands, Hilda and Monica wandered the campus, exploring

    nearly every corner.

    n''t in vain. All

    Their search wasn''t

    around the university-on digital boards, notice walls, and in ss trophy cases-they found evidence of Citrine''s achievements:

    ver

    award-winning projects, honors, and des.

    Each aplishment was impressive-any one of them would make her a top candidate for a job. Even Hilda, usually so reserved, couldn''t help but admit: this girl was extraordinary.

    She gently traced Citrine''s photo on a campus wall, her eyes softening with rare tenderness.

    Then, the bell signaling the end of ss echoed across the grounds.

    A flood of students poured out of the building.

    In the crowd, Monica suddenly spotted a familiar face. She tugged urgently at Hilda''s sleeve, pointing toward a girl descending the steps. "Aunt Hilda-it''s Citrine!"

 Chapter 426

    Hilda''s heart clenched, and she fixed her gaze on the staircase.

    Just then, Citrine appeared,ing down the stairs beside another girl. The two seemed deep in conversation, Citrine''s lips curled into a gentle smile, her eyes warm and kind.

    Hilda stared, frozen on the spot, her breath caught in her throat. She couldn''t move, couldn''t look away.

    She looked even more like the photos-no, more real, more certain. In that moment, Hilda was sure: this was her daughter.

    Without a second thought, Monica called out, her voice echoing through the hall. "Citrine!"

    Citrine nced over and spotted Monica. What was she doing here?

    Her expression barely shifted, but she frowned just slightly, then turned to the girl beside her. "Jane, go on ahead. I have something to take care of."

    As Jane left, Citrine headed toward Monica.

    Only when she drew closer did Citrine realize Monica wasn''t alone. There was another woman standing beside her a woman in a deep burgundy coat, her lips painted a bold red, exuding confidence and poise.

    Citrine faltered for a brief moment when she saw the woman''s face.

    She''d been surprised when she''d seen her photo in those files, but nothing couldpare to seeing her in person.

    Their features-so simr, unmistakably connected. And yet, instead of resentment, Citrine felt... nothing at all. No anger, no bitterness.

    If this had been the past, she might have demanded answers: why did you give birth to me only to abandon me? But now, standing here, the urge to ask had faded away.

    Quickly collecting herself, Citrine nodded politely to both Monica and Hilda. Then, in a measured tone, she addressed Monica, her voice distant. "Miss Saunders."

    Monica didn''t seem offended.

    She took the initiative, gesturing to the woman beside her. "This is my aunt, Hilda. She''s visiting Crestwood University with me today."

    Hilda''s eyes never left Citrine. For a moment, she seemed at a loss for words, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Her voice trembled, thick with emotion. "Citrine, hello, you can call me..."

    She stopped, searching for words.

    Then, almost in a rush, she added, "Just call me Aunt Hilda. That''s fine."

    The woman whomanded boardrooms and negotiated million-dor deals now

    found herself flustered, tongue-tied before her own daughter.

    Citrine offered a small, understanding smile and softly greeted, ¡°Aunt Hilda.¡±

    Monica jumped in, eager to break

    the tension. "Citrine, perfect timing it''s almost lunch! I heard there''s a great little ce just outside campus. Why don''t we go eat together?"

    Citrine hesitated, a flicker of difort in her eyes. "Maybe another time," she replied, turning down the offer.

    Hilda''s eyes dimmed at the refusal.

    But Monica pressed on, undeterred. "Come on, it won''t take long. Besides, we

    don''t know this area at all. You could show us around, just this once?"

    Citrine realized she couldn''t refuse again without seeming rude.

    "

    ''... Alright," she agreed quietly.

    Just like that, the light returned to Hilda''s eyes. She looked at Citrine with such

    hopeful, childlike joy, unable to hide her excitement.

    Citrine felt a little awkward under her gaze.

    Clearing her throat, she murmured, "Let''s go."

    Sat

    At the restaurant, barely had they down before Hilda blurted out the question that had been burning inside her. "Citrine, have you have you been doing well all these years?"

    As soon as the words left her mouth, Hilda realized how strange they sounded,

    how out of ce they were for Citrine.

    Citrine''s eyes met hers, silent and unreadable.

    Auntie, you''re more anxious than! am, Citrine thought, the silence growing heavier with every second. Monica gave a nervousugh and tried to smooth things over, "She means, how have you beentely?"

    She lowered her voice, ncing at Citrine with concern. "Word is, the Glenwood family has had their eye on you. They''ve been making things difficult, haven''t they?"

 Chapter 427

    Citrine blinked in surprise, not expecting that to be Hilda''s concern.

    She pressed her lips together and said quietly, "Don''t worry about me. I can take care of myself. The Glenwood family can''t do anything to me."

    Hilda gave a cold snort, her eyes shing dangerously.

    The steely side of her-the one she used to take charge at work-slipped out as she growled, "Rx. As long as I''m around, if he ever tries anything, he''ll have to answer to me first. I don''t care if I have to go down with the Glenwoods."

    Aunt, calm down, you''re going to scare Citrine.

    Monica, fighting back her own fear of her aunt, kept pinching Hilda''s thigh under the table to warn her. But Hilda was too worked up to notice; she even pinched Monica''s hand, hard, in annoyance.

    Monica yanked her hand back, her face twisted in pain, red nail marks blooming across her skin.

    Right now, Hilda''s entire world was her daughter.

    She stared at Citrine, silently cursing the Glenwood family and all their ancestors for eight generations.

    If they thought they could bully her precious girl, old Talbot must have lost his mind. She wondered if the Glenwoods had already picked out a coffin for that fossil-if not, she''d be happy to supply one herself.

    Citrine, meanwhile, was watching Hilda intently, silent and unmoving.

    Hilda finally noticed Citrine''s gaze, her face going stiff as she self-consciously touched her own cheek. "Why... why are you looking at me like that?"

    And then it hit her.

    Oh God. She''d done it again.

    She''d always been a force of nature, intimidating everyone who crossed her path. That fierce expression must have scared Citrine half to death.

    Just thinking about how the younger kids in the family ran from her like frightened mice made Hilda''s heart sink. Her daughter was so sweet, so gentle-there was no way she wasn''t terrified right now.

    Lost for words, Hilda could only blurt out, "Citrine, I''m not usually like this, I swear... Please, don''t be afraid of me."

    Monica stared, wide-eyed, too shocked to stop her aunt.

    Once Hilda finished, both women looked anxiously to Citrine, waiting for her reaction.

    But Citrine''s face betrayed nothing. The tension in the room eased just a little as Monica and Hilda exhaled in relief.

    Before either could say another word, Citrine quietly set down her fork. The hint of

    a smile she''d worn was gone, reced by a cold, unreadable stare.

    She looked straight at Hilda, her voice icy. "I think you''re mistaken. I''m not your daughter."

    Both Hilda and Monica froze.

    Hilda was the first to recover, her voice trembling as she tried to keep herposure. She hadn''t wanted to upset her daughter, but it seemed Citrine already knew what they were after.

    Red-eyed, Hilda pleaded, "No, that''s not true. Citrine, you are my daughter."

    She gestured at her own face, desperate. "Look at us. We look so much alike."

    Citrine gazed back, her tone steady and cool. "Plenty of people in the world look alike. I''m not your daughter. You''ve made a mistake."

    Hilda shook her head, refusing to ept it. "No. I know my own daughter. I could never mistake you for someone else."

    She stared at Citrine, remembering all the times she''d imagined their reunion. Never, not once, had she pictured her daughter rejecting her.

    Citrine''s eyes flickered with emotion at Hilda''s words, but the steely resolve returned just as quickly The

    Xe''d needed her mother the

    most was long gone.

    "I told you, I''m not her," Citrine said, her voice t and unyielding.

    Pain shed across Monica''s face. She nearly begged, "Citrine, please. Let''s just do a DNA test."

    Citrine''s expression shifted for a moment, but she quickly shook her head. "I don''t have time. And I don''t want to waste yours, either."

    "Please stop looking for me."

    After all her years in business, Hilda had learned how to read people, and she could see right away that Citrine''s reaction wasn''t quite right. If Citrine truly wasn''t her daughter, why refuse the test?

    She must have figured out the truth already, but didn''t want to ept it.

    The realization made Hilda''s face darken.

    She looked at Citrine, her voice turning gentle. "Citrine, I won''t push you. Just... please don''t hate me, okay?"

    With that, Hilda didn''t dare say another word. She turned to Monica and said quietly, "Come on. Let''s go."

 Chapter 428

    Monica stared at Hilda in disbelief. "What? You want to leave now?"

    "Now," Hilda repeated, her tone brooking no argument.

    Monica felt a crushing pressure settle over her. She had no choice but to get up and follow.

    It wasn''t until they''d paid the bill and stepped outside that Monica finally voiced her frustration. "Aunt Hilda, why didn''t you push a little harder? If we just insisted, maybe Citrine would have agreed to the paternity test." Her disappointment was obvious.

    Hilda''s face returned to its usual icyposure as she looked at Monica.

    "Foolish," she said coldly.

    "She already did the test. Before we ever got involved, she knew exactly who she was."

    "She denied being my daughter just now, but refused to take another test with me. That alone tells you she''s hiding something. And when the test came up, did you notice her expression? It changed, just for a second. From the start, she''s been too calm-like she''s inplete control."

    Hilda''s voice was resolute. "All of this proves one thing: she knows everything. But she doesn''t want to acknowledge me."

    A flicker of sadness passed through Hilda''s eyes.

    When they got back, Hilda drove straight to the Glenwood estate.

    Talbot was out by the pond, fishing. When he saw Hilda approach, hezily handed his rod to a waiting staff member.

    He gave her a slow, knowing smile. "Well, well, President Saunders. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

    Hilda ignored the pleasantries. "Talbot, I heard you''ve been meddling with Citrine Carmichael."

    Talbot''s expression changed instantly. "How do you know about that? Wait-you actually know her?"

    Hilda hesitated, thinking of her daughter who still refused to acknowledge her. After a moment, she said tly, "She''s under my protection. You''re not to touch her."

    Talbot let out a mirthlessugh. "Your protection? Since when does President Saunders have ties to the Carmichaels? They only moved here from Havencrestst year."

    Hilda''s patience was wearing thin; her voice turned colder. "That''s none of your business. Just stay away from Citrine. That''s all you need to know."

    Talbot was annoyed. He couldn''t fathom why anyone would care so much about Citrine. In his mind, she was just a small-town nobody-certainly not worth the trouble.

    He fell silent for a moment, then muttered, "You know my daughter needs apatible blood donor. Citrine''s a perfect match. What if I decide to go through with it anyway?"

    "Don''t you dare." Hilda''s eyes shed with lethal intent.

    Talbot didn''t miss the warning in her

    gaze. He scoffed. "You really are protective, President Saunders. I don''t get it. Citrine

    Carmichael-some country bumpkin from Havencrest-what''s she got on you that''s worth all this trouble?"

    "Shut your mouth." Hilda''s face darkened, her stare icy enough to freeze the air.

    Her voice was so cold it burned. "Talbot, from this moment on, C. Corp is cutting all business ties with the Glenwood family. We''re done."

    Talbot stared at her in shock,

    springing from his chair. He jabbed a

    trembling finger at her, shouting,

    "Are you insane, Hilda? Our families

    have worked together for a decade! We''ve both profited. And now you''re wifting to throw it all away for some little brat?"

    Hilda smiled, unfazed. "That''s right."

    Anyone who tried to hurt her daughter would have her to deal with.

    She''d risk everything-even her own life-before she let anyoney a hand on her child.

    Hilda fixed Talbot with a re that could have cut ss. "Listen to me, Talbot. If you so much as touch Citrine Carmichael, I''ll drag your entire family straight to hell with me¡ªeven if it''s thest thing I do."

    Hilda had a reputation in Crestwood for being ruthless-utterly fearless and dangerously unpredictable. The Glenwoods might not fear the Saunders family, but no one wanted to cross a mad dog with nothing to lose.

    "Fine, fine, Hilda. You win," Talbot snarled, his face dark with rage. Heshed out, kicking the table in front of him so hard it crashed across the patio.

    Hilda didn''t flinch. With a final huff, she turned to leave, calling over her shoulder, "President Glenwood,¨¥ you''re sixty-five this year, aren''t you? Might want to keep that temper in check. Wouldn''t want to give yourself a heart attack."

    As she strode away, Talbot exploded with fury.

    "That spiteful woman-Hilda, you wretched witch! Someday, I swear I''ll see you dead!"

    His curses echoed angrily through the entire estate.

 Chapter 429

    That day, Hilda made her stance clear in Crestwood''s high society: if anyone so much asid a finger on Citrine, they''d be considered an enemy of the Saunders family from that moment on.

    When the news reached Kali, she was still recovering in the hospital.

    She stared at her brother in disbelief. "How is this possible? Since when did Citrine get involved with the Saunders family?"

    Theo shook his head. "No idea. Dad said Hilda showed up at our house today and made some serious threats. If he ever tries to go after Citrine again, there''s no telling what that lunatic would do."

    His voice dropped. "For now, we''ll have to find you a different blood donor."

    Kali pressed her lips together, disappointment clouding her eyes.

    So close. If the Saunders family hadn''t intervened, Citrine would''ve be her personal blood bank by now.

    Seething, Kali cursed Hilda under her breath.

    After a while, something else urred to her. She looked up at Theo. "By the way -why hasn''t Hastings visited me these past few days?"

    It had been almost a week since Hastingsst came to the hospital.

    Kali had hoped that this would be the perfect opportunity to mend things between them, to get back to how they used to be. She hadn''t expected he''d start avoiding her altogether.

    As soon as she asked, Theo''s smile faded, reced by a moreplicated expression.

    Noticing her brother''s strange look, Kali frowned. "What is it, Theo? Why do you look so upset?"

    Theo was silent for a moment, then fixed her with a serious gaze. "Kali, you can''t keep ying games with your own life."

    All the color drained from Kali''s face; a chill ran through her veins.

    She clenched her fists, trying to act clueless. "Theo... What are you talking about?"

    He stared at her, his eyes suddenly sharp. "Don''t pretend. I saw the security footage. You fell down the stairs on purpose."

    Kali froze, staring back at Theo, scrambling for an exnation.

    Before she could open her mouth, he cut her off coldly. "If you want toe between Hastings and Citrine, that''s your business. But hurting yourself to do it is just pathetic Only a coward tries to manipte people by self-harm."

    Relief flickered across Kali''s face when she realized that was all he''d deduced. She quickly apologized. "I''m sorry, Theo. I know I was wrong."

    Theo''s tone softened a little. He reached out to ruffle her hair. "As long as you know. Don''t ever do something that stupid again."

    "I won''t, I promise." Kali nodded, managing a faint smile.

    But as soon as she mentioned Hastings, her expression clouded once more.

    She hesitated, then asked quietly, "Theo... did Hastings see the security footage too?"

    Theo nodded. "He did."

    Kali''s heart sank like a stone.

    She''d put herself through so much and failed to break up Hastings and Citrine. Worse, she might have just pushed them closer together. The thought made her sick.

    No wonder he hasn''t visited... He must despise me now.

    Theo silently cursed Hastings for being so cold-how could he just leave Kali alone all this time?

    Trying to reassure her, he said,

    "Don''t worry. No matter what, you''re still the little sister he grew up with. He''s always looked out for you. There''s no way he could really hate you."

    Kali felt a bit of the tension in her chest ease. Theo was right. She had made a mistake, but she and

    Hastings had grown up togethe

    He''d always taken care of

    neve

    her surely he wouldn''t stay angry forever.

    A monthter, Crestwood''s annual Opulence Ball-a gathering for all the most

    reputable, high-rankingpanies¡ªwas about to begin.

 Chapter 430

    This gathering was a golden opportunity-anyone who knew how to seize the moment could make powerful connections and gain ess to invaluable resources, propelling theirpany to new heights, maybe even vaulting themselves into an entirely new social ss.

    Both mid-level executives and top brass had been looking forward to this evening''s g for weeks.

    Citrine had arranged for her evening gown to be tailored well in advance.

    That night, she arrived at the venue with Carlotta Yarbrough by her side. Citrine''s goal tonight was simple: make an impression and quietly assess the room for promising business partners.

    She wore a chic ck cocktail dress, a bespoke ne draped elegantly around her neck. Her hair was swept up in a graceful chignon, exposing the smooth lines of her face, and her makeup was subtle yet sophisticated-cool, refined, andmanding attention.

    The moment she stepped inside, all eyes turned to her.

    Business leaders and heirs alike couldn''t help but nce her way.

    "Which family''s heiress is that? I''ve never seen her before, but she''s stunning."

    "No idea. Maybe the daughter of a small business owner?"

    "She looks so poised, but honestly, she seems awfully young. If her family''s already bringing her to events like this, she must be seriously doted on."

    Citrine ignored the whispers, guiding Carlotta to a quiet lounge area where they could sit for a while.

    They had barely settled in when someone called out from across the room.

    "Citrine."

    A familiar voice. Some of the reserve faded from Citrine''s eyes as she turned, puzzled, in the direction of the sound.

    Raymond, dressed in a crisp suit, was approaching, a flicker of surprise and genuine delight crossing his face.

    "Citrine? What are you doing here?"

    If she told him she was using this event to announce herself as chairwoman of CICI Group, he''d never buy it. So Citrine paused, then changed tack. "Just here towork, meet a few people," she said lightly.

    It struck her was this the same g Raymond had invited her to yesterday, the one she''d declined? She bit her lip, then asked, "The dinner you mentioned yesterday-this is the one?"

    Raymond nodded.

    He hadn''t forgotten that he''d once promised to introduce Citrine as his sessor. With only one invite for an heir allowed, she was naturally his first choice for tonight.

    A rare flicker of guilt crossed Citrine''s face. "I''m sorry. I didn''t realize this was the same event."

    Raymond just smiled. ¡°No harm done. You''re here now, and that''s what matters." He''d been about to ask who she''de with, but noticing Carlotta at her side, he guessed the answer and let it drop.

    Instead, Raymond offered, "Citrine, I''ve gotten to know quite a few gentlemen in Crestwood. Let me introduce you."

    "Sure," Citrine replied, momentarily surprised but making no protest.

    She turned to Carlotta, murmured a few words, and then followed Raymond into the crowd.

    During his time in Crestwood, Raymond had built an impressivework, and most of them had shown up for the g tonight.

    He led Citrine through the hall,

    stopping to introduce her whenever they ran into someone he knew. "This is my daughter, Citrine

    Carmichael. I hope you''ll look out for her in the future."

    Across the room, Hilda had just arrived and immediately caught sight of them.

    She watched as Citrine walked

    arm-in-arm with a well-dressed middle-aged man, chatting with

    someone Hilda didn''t recognize

    Suddenly, the strangerughed and Citrine and the man exchanged a nce, both smiling.

    Hilda''s expression soured. She quickly snagged a passing guest. "Excuse me¨D

    do you know the man over there, and the girl on his arm? What''s their rtionship?"

    Her tone was tight, impatient.

    The man nced up, and when he realized who was addressing him, his face lit up-President Saunders herself! He must have lucked into something good tonight.

    He replied eagerly, "President Saunders, yes, I know them. That''s Raymond, and the youngdy with him is his daughter, Citrine Carmichael."

 Chapter 431

    Hilda stood rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed on the man''s retreating figure. She watched him for a long while, unable to pull her eyes away.

    As she observed, it became clear just how affectionate he was toward Citrine- and, more strikingly, howfortable Citrine seemed in his presence. The two of them interacted with an easy familiarity, no different from the thousands of ordinary fathers and daughters out there.

    A sharp pang twisted in Hilda''s chest. She stood there, overwhelmed with a bittersweet ache.

    Her own daughter refused even to acknowledge her, yet got along seamlessly with her father.

    To say Hilda wasn''t jealous would have been a lie. The jealousy burned so fiercely inside her she could barely stand it.

    Afraid that approaching would only provoke Citrine''s rejection, Hilda kept her distance and simply watched from afar.

    When the evening banquet finally began, the business leaders and heirs all made their way to their assigned seats.

    Raymond tried to have Citrine sit beside him, but she politely declined.

    He could only watch as Citrine walked straight to a seat at the front row-the ce marked for the Chair of CICI Group. Momentster, Carlotta sat down in the spot reserved for Citrine''s assistant.

    Raymond stared in disbelief, and when Citrine caught his eye, she offered him a faint, knowing smile.

    That smile said it all, confirming what he''d suspected deep down. There was no room left for doubt.

    He thought back to theunch event for the Kane medical robot, when the two had attended together. Then there was Carlotta at Citrine''s birthday party, her deferential treatment, the close coboration between CICI Group and The Carmichael Group...

    Now, everything made sense.

    No wonder he''d always felt Carlotta acted more like a subordinate around Citrine.

    It turned out Carlotta really was Citrine''s assistant.

    Raymond knew his daughter wasn''t one for practical jokes. Seeing her sit so unruffled in that seat made it perfectly clear-she wasn''t just taking any random ce.

    Suddenly, Raymond remembered the first time they met, when Citrine told him she held the patent for a cutting-edge medical robot. He hadn''t believed her then.

    But she''d been telling the truth-the patent was for Kane.

    Even now, with Citrine''s identityid bare, Raymond couldn''t hide his shock.

    CICI Group had only risen to prominence after acquiring HavencrestChase Group Holdings just over a year ago.

    Back then, Citrine was still in high school, swamped with coursework and not even legally an adult. Whoz could have imagined that a teenager could in such a short span, transform thepany into what it was now?

    What kind of brilliance and business acumen did that take?

    His thoughts were interrupted as amotion stirred up front. Someone had

    noticed Citrine sitting in the Chair''s seat and clearly took issue with it.

    A man strode over and tapped her on the shoulder, his tone sharp and patronizing. "Hey, kiddo, you''re in the wrong ce. That seat''s reserved for the Chair of CICI Group."

    Citrine turned, her eyes cool and unwavering as she met his gaze. "I''m not in the wrong seat," she replied calmly.

    With that, she dismissed him, turning away without another word.

    But the executive wasn''t ready to let it go. His tone soured further. "No, listen, little girl, are you hard of hearing? This is the president''s seat. I suggest you move before you cause trouble."

    At that moment, both Raymond and Hilda stood up from their seats across the room.

    In perfect unison, their voices rang out: "Enough."

    Raymond was a neer in Crestwood, but he''d made a name for himself in record time, opening new markets and attracting a crowd of eager partners. No one in their right mind would want to cross him.

    As for Hilda, she was infamous in Crestwood for her relentless drive and ruthless tactics. Backed by the centuries-old Saunders family, with their deep pockets and vast

    overy

    influence, she was not someone to offend lightly.

    The executive quickly softened his tone. "Look, understand you both have standing here, but this seat is for the Chair of CICI Group. It really isn''t appropriate for a young girl to sit there. I was just trying to help-if the Chair finds out, she''s bound to get in trouble."

 Chapter 432

    Hilda fixed the man with an icy stare, her voice razor-sharp. ¡°And just who do you think you are?"

    Her daughter could sit wherever she pleased. If Citrine wanted to take the CEO''s chair, Hilda would help her climb right up there, and apud for good measure.

    Raymond''s expression darkened as well. He gave a cold snort and looked the man up and down. "You think you have the right to talk about my daughter?"

    "My daughter is the CEO of CICI Group. She has every right to sit there."

    Harden was visibly trembling, cowed by their presence. When Raymond revealed the girl was his daughter, panic shed across Harden''s face, and immediate regret followed.

    He stammered out an apology, "I''m sorry, Mr. Saunders. I''m sorry, Mr. Carmichael. I spoke out of turn."

    As for Raymond''sst statement, Harden deliberately pretended not to hear.

    Once Harden scurried off, Talbot approached from across the room, his assistant trailing behind him.

    Talbot wasn''t intimidated by Hilda in the slightest, and as for Raymond-he was new to Crestwood, so Talbot dismissed him entirely.

    He stopped in front of Citrine, his smile all teeth and no warmth. "Ms. Carmichael. We meet again."

    Citrine regarded him in silence, her eyes narrowing just a fraction. Inwardly, she cursed the old man.

    Oblivious to Citrine''s silent insults, Talbot continued, "I thought you were just stubborn and headstrong, Ms. Carmichael, but I didn''t expect you''d stoop so low."

    He spoke loudly, making sure everyone around heard him.

    The Glenwood family was the most powerful in Crestwood, with unmatched influence in the business world-and their privatework was notorious. The moment Talbot spoke, a few eager CEOs hoping to curry favor with the Glenwoods jumped in to back him up.

    ¡°That''s right, youngdy¡ªyou''ve got plenty of nerve, but you really don''t know your ce. Do you even realize whose seat that is?"

    "The CEO''s chair isn''t for just anyone."

    "My advice? Leave quietly while you still can."

    "If the CEO himself shows up and finds you sitting there, you''ll be in serious trouble."

    "Haven''t you learned to respect your elders? You look like you could use a lesson in manners!"

    The chorus of voices grew, each one harsher than thest, until Citrine''s ears rang with the noise.

    Raymond and Hilda''s faces grew thunderous with each word, and both seemed about to speak-when suddenly, Citrine let out a softugh.

    None of their remarks bothered her

    in the least-she barely paid them any mind. But when someone

    219

    referred to the CEO as "the old man," she nearly burst outughing.

    She snorted and rose to her feet, locking eyes with Talbot, unflinching. "And why can''t I be the CEO of CICI Group?"

    Talbot scoffed, oozing disdain. "You? The CEO? Do you think everyone here is an idiot?"

    He sneered. "You''re just a little girl. Bing CEO of CICI Group, building it up to its current scale in just a year and a half-that takes business talent mere mortals can only dream of. Ten of you couldn''t achieve what the CEO has."

    There wasn''t a trace of irony in Talbot''s voice; he clearly admired the CEO.

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh out loud.

    How amusing¡ªshe wondered what kind of face Talbot would make if he realized the person he was praising was standing right in front of him.

    She arched a brow and looked at him, half-smiling. "You seem to hold the CEO in very high regard."

    "Of course," Talbot replied without hesitation. The CEO might be a mystery, but anyone who can aplish all this is worthy of respect. I, Talbot Glenwood, have always admired people of true ability."

    "Worthy of respect? A ''senior''?" Citrine chuckled, thoroughly entertained.

    Talbot looked at her like she was hopelessly na?ve. "Anyone who achieves what he has deserves to be called a senior in my book."

    Then, with a note of pride, he added, "Besides, our firm is about to partner with CICI Group. Soon, I''ll be joining forces with this legendary CEO."

 Chapter 433

    "Partnership?" Citrine let out a coldugh.

    She couldn''t recall a single instance where CICI Group had ever partnered with Glenwood Group.

    "Oh, yes. That''s right," Talbot replied, utterly unfazed. He shot Citrine a disdainful nce, his voice brimming with smugness. "Glenwood Group is one of Crestwood''s most established enterprises, with a legacy that speaks for itself. And CICI Group-well, you''re the hottest new yer in the city. It''s only natural our twopanies should join forces."

    Citrine''s lips curled into a mocking smile. "Only natural? So, in other words, we haven''t actually partnered-yet."

    She widened her eyes for effect, ncing around at the bystanders as she pressed a hand to her mouth in mock astonishment. ¡°I know Mr. Glenwood is getting on in years, but I didn''t realize his ego had grown evenrger. He''s seriously bragging about a partnership that doesn''t even exist? That takes some nerve."

    "You-!" Talbot''s face flushed deep red; being called old was his sore spot, and the jab nearly knocked the wind out of him. He doubled over, coughing violently.

    His assistant rushed to steady him, quickly producing a small pill and handing it

    over.

    After a few moments, Talbot finally regained hisposure.

    He red icily at Citrine. "Sharp tongue, aren''t you? I''m not going to waste my time arguing with an ignorant little girl."

    "The Glenwood family has an illustrious history. Glenwood Group is every bit as formidable as CICI Group. Sure, we haven''t worked together yet, but I''m here tonight to change that."

    CICI Group''s line of pharmaceutical cosmetics had taken the entire nation by storm. Their products were always sold out on every major sales app, topping the charts month after month. In less than six months sinceunch, they''d raked in profits everyone wanted a cut of¨Dand Talbot was no exception.

    Landing a deal with CICI Group would guarantee Glenwood Group''s future.

    The Glenwoods were Crestwood''s most powerful family, and with Talbot''s connections to the ck Network, they wielded considerable influence. Any shrewd business would jump at the chance to work with them¡ªor so he thought. Talbot was secretly congratting himself when Citrine suddenly burst outughing.

    "Mr. Glenwood, if this is what you came for tonight, then congrattions." Talbot snorted, preparing to throw another insult her way-only for Citrine to continue, "Congrattions on being disappointed, that is."

    She arched her lips into a sly smile and settledfortably back into her seat.

    Talbot''s face twisted with anger. No one in Crestwood had ever dared defy him he was the head of the city''s most prominent family, for God''s sake. But Citrine Carmichael had just put him in his ce right in front of everyone.

    As Talbot seethed, the doors to the banquet hall swung open and a sharply dressed man strode inside, briefcase in hand.

    Everyone''s attention snapped to him. Someone whispered, "Isn''t that Manager Rogers from CICI Group''s product development division?" Not long ago, he''d tried to negotiate a deal with Rogers, but was refused.

    "What''s he doing here?"

    "That guy''s a big shot-he was on TV justst week."

    "Maybe he''s here to represent their CEO at tonight''s g?"

    "Let''s see if he puts that girl in her ce."

    "This should be interesting."

    A wave of spection rippled through the room.

    Manager Rogers, oblivious to the murmurs, walked straight toward Citrine. He stopped in front of her, bowed politely, and spoke with utmost respect. "President O Carmichael."

    A hush fell over the crowd, everyone stunned.

    "President Carmichael? Did I hear that right?"

    "Has he lost his mind, or have I? That girl can''t be more than sixteen, and he just

    called her President Carmichael?"

 Chapter 434

    "Has Manager Rogers lost his mind or something?"

    ...

    Someone finally couldn''t take it anymore and called out to him, "Manager Rogers, how much is this girl paying you? You''re the product manager at CICI Group and you''ve got nothing better to do than help a kid put on an act? This is ridiculous."

    "Yeah, Manager Rogers, stop with the show already."

    "Honestly, I''d believe you were the CEO of CICI Group before I''d believe she was."

    Manager Rogers nced at the group, his voice turning cold. "Enough. I''m not putting on a show and I''m not lying. She is the CEO of CICI Group."

    "Manager Rogers, are you addicted to this roley or what?"

    "You think we''re idiots? She''s what, eighteen? Still wet behind the ears and probably only knows how to spend money, not make it. If she''s really the CEO, I¡¯II jump off the thirty-eighth floor right here and now."

    Raymond and Hilda, who could barely stand anyone saying a bad word about Citrine, were about to explode. But before they could, Manager Rogers beat them to it.

    "You there¡ªwhat do I even call you, ''boss''? Did you drink away your brain cells or something? I work at CICI Group. If I didn''t even know what our CEO looks like, I''d have no business working there-I might as well go screw bolts on an assembly line." His tone was icy, and the scorn in his eyes was unmistakable as he nced at the man''s beer belly.

    He didn''t stop there. "And what''s wrong with being eighteen? At least she''s young ¡ªunlike the rest of you old fossils who are halfway in the grave already. Our CEO''s got more life ahead of her than you lot ever will."

    To Rogers, his CEO was practically a legend-brilliant,passionate, and fiercely capable. She''d given him a chance when he was at rock bottom; if not for her, he would probably still be scraping by in some back alley, eating cold takeout for dinner.

    The man with the beer belly, red-faced and clutching his stomach, sputtered, "You -you''re insulting me!"

    Rogers just sneered. "So what if I am? Look at yourself¡ªa clueless waste of space. And you call yourself a boss? Maybe you should just quit and join the factory line."

    Beer Belly was so stunned, he forgot to argue back, staring nkly at Rogers. He couldn''t wrap his head around how someone so straightced could be so ruthlessly sharp-tongued.

    Rogers'' demeanor shifted instantly as he turned to his CEO, all respect and professionalism. He pulled out a stack of documents from his briefcase and set them in front of

    Citrine. "President Carmichael, I''ve prepared the files you requested."

    Citrine smiled at her employee. "Thank you. You''ve worked hard go home and get some rest."

    Once Rogers had left, Talbot

    rounded up his crew, clearly gearing

    up for trouble. But before he could say a word, Citrine calmly reached into her pocket and ced thepany''s official seal on the table for everyone to see.

    With that single gesture, the room fellpletely silent.

    Everyone knew-only the CEO had the authority to carry and use thepany seal.

    Talbot''s face went ashen, disbelief etched across his features.

    No way. How could she possibly be the CEO of CICI Group?

    Refusing to give in, Talbot pressed on. "That proves nothing! For all we know, you stole it!"

    Citrine justughed. Then, with a practiced motion, she pulled thepany''s business license from her bag, holding it up for everyone to see as she pointed to her own name printed on it. "Still have doubts?"

    A seal could be faked, but the name on the business license couldn''t be forged.

    Talbot''s bravado finally copsed. Remembering how he''d praised the CEO of CICI Group in front of everyone and even called her ''mentor''-he suddenly wished the ground would swallow him whole.

 Chapter 435

    In that instant, everyone who, like Talbot, had been hoping to see Citrine stumble fellpletely silent.

    While it was true that CICI Group wasn''t yet on the same level as Glenwood Group, anyone with half a brain could see the direction things were going. At the rate CICI was growing, it was only a matter of time before they surpassed Glenwood.

    Now, everyone wanted to cozy up to CICI Group and get a piece of the action. No one was foolish enough to risk offending Citrine.

    A number of people who''d previously sided with Talbot began to backpedal, offering awkward apologies to Citrine. The rest-those whose interests were inextricably linked with Talbot''s-naturally stood their ground with him, having no choice but to stay loyal.

    "I''m terribly sorry, President Carmichael. We didn''t recognize greatness when we saw it," someone said, forcing a smile.

    "Yes, it was thoughtless of us. We hope you can forgive our ignorance, President Carmichael," another chimed in.

    "If there''s ever anything you need, President Carmichael, just say the word. I''ll follow your lead without hesitation."

    "Please don''t hold our earlier misunderstanding against us. We were misled, that''s all."

    As the apologies tumbled out, a few began shamelessly pitching themselves: "President Carmichael, my family owns a pharmaceuticalpany. Perhaps you''d consider giving us an opportunity? I assure you, you won''t regret working with us."

    "President Carmichael, ours is a techpany. We''d be willing to offer favorable terms if you partnered with us."

    "Don''t listen to them, President Carmichael. Ourpany is your best choice, I promise."

    One after another, the executives who''d been so hostile just minutes before were now bowing their heads and all but groveling before Citrine, their earlier arrogance reced with a sudden, almostical humility. The transformation wasplete¡ªa full three-sixty from disdain to deference.

    Raymond watched this pathetic disy with a cold, amused smirk.

    "Shameless. At your age, haven''t you any pride left?" he sneered.

    Everyone knew Citrine was Raymond''s daughter, and after hearing his icy tone, no one dared utter another word. They nced nervously at each other and promptly shut their mouths.

    Raymond''s attention shifted to the potbellied executive who''d earlier threatened to jump from the thirty-eighth floor. "Weren''t you the one who said you''d leap off

    you waiting for-suddenly got amnesia?"

    thirty-eighth floor? Well the

    are

    Realizing he''d picked the wrong fight, the man immediately began to grovel. ¡°I''m so sorry, President Carmichael. I was blind,pletely mistaken. Please forgive

    me."

    1.n

    Citrine didn''t even bother to acknowledge him. In front of everyone, she handed her contract and a list of names to Carlotta. "Follow this list. Anyone willing to join my Blood Rain syndicate gets a one percent discount on our

    partnership terms. From now on, our products will always prioritize thesepanies."

    She finished her announcement with a subtle, knowing smile.

    Sebastian had the Shadow Syndicate, Talbot had the ck Web-Citrine figured

    it was time to establish her own: Blood Rain.

    The list contained the names of every CEO she''d carefully vetted-people with clean reputations andpanies with solid ethics, not a single shady record among them.

    Before the banquet, Citrine had already prepared the list. After arriving, she discreetly observed the crowd and crossed off a few names, but overall, her selections remained unchanged.

    With the groundworkid, she left the rest to Carlotta and departed the banquet with Raymond.

    No sooner had they walked out than Hilda hurried after them.

    She stared at her daughter''s retreating figure, awe and disbelief written all over her face.

    At first, Hilda hadn''t believed Citrine''s ims. After all, who could imagine that a barely-adult girl was actually the CEO of CICI Group?

    Besides, the Glenwood family had always coveted a partnership with CICI, so over the past six months, Hilda had tried more than once to uncover the identity of CICI''s elusive chairperson, alwaysing@p empty-handed.

    Much like Talbot, Hilda had assumed the CEO must be an older man. Achieving

    so much in such a short time surely required decades of experience and a shrewd business mind.

    It had never urred to her-not in her wildest dreams-that Citrine was the one running CICI Group.

 Chapter 436

    In that moment, Hilda''s emotions were a tangled mess-she was proud of her

    daughter''s brilliance, but at the same time, a gnawing fear crept in: what if Citrine no longer needed her at all?

    "Citrine." Hilda hesitated for a second, but in the end, she called out to her daughter.

    Both Citrine and Raymond stopped at the sound of her voice.

    Raymond recognized Hilda immediately-she was the woman who had spoken up for Citrine at the party. He nodded to her politely. "Thank you for standing up for my daughter earlier."

    "It was nothing," Hilda replied offhandedly, though her eyes remained fixed on Citrine with an intensity she couldn''t hide.

    Citrine only looked back at her, silent.

    A pang of difort twisted in Hilda''s chest. She pressed her lips together, struggling to find the right words. There was so much she wanted to say, yet nothing came out but a quiet confession of regret: "Citrine, I''m sorry." Her voice trembled. If only she''d protected her better-if only Citrine hadn''t been lost to her for all those years.

    Citrine was about to respond when she noticed the dark circles under Hilda''s eyes, the weariness etched across her face. It looked like she hadn''t slept properly in ages.

    Was it because of her?

    Did Hilda really care that much?

    Something inside Citrine wavered.

    She pressed her lips together, determined not to let herself go soft, but her tone softened anyway. "You don''t need to apologize. Like I said, please don''te looking for me again."

    Hilda''s face turned pale. For a moment, disappointment flickered in her eyes, but she forced herself to smile-though the expression looked more like she was about to cry. "Alright. I''ll do as you say."

    Citrine had already done her homework on Hilda: a formidable businesswoman, the head of the Saunders family, a woman whomanded respect wherever she went.

    Yet now, seeing her humbled and hesitant, Citrine felt a sudden surge of irritation. Hilda wasn''t supposed to be like this¡ªshe should be radiant,manding, untouchable. She shouldn''t have to watch for Citrine''s every reaction.

    Citrine nced at her again and tried to exin, "I just mean it''s gettingte."

    Even as she said it, Citrine realized how awkward it sounded. She hesitated, then corrected herself, "Actually, it''s fine. If you want to find me, you can."

    "Really?" In an instant, the disappointment in Hilda''s eyes vanished, reced by a sh of joy.

    "Yeah, really." Seeing the relief and happiness in Hilda''s face, Citrine found herself unable to refuse. She nodded, almost despite herself.

    She had to admit-she couldn''t bring herself to dislike this woman. Maybe it was because Hilda was her mother. There was a warmth when she looked at her, a sense of familiarity that made it impossible to be cruel.

    Citrine didn''t particrly like that feeling, but she couldn''t ignore it either.

    Suddenly, Hilda seemed to

    remember something. She fumbled for her phone, as if afraid Citrine would slip away before she could act. Handing the phone over in a rush, she asked, "Citrine, would you mind if I added your number? So I can reach you?"

    Her face was full of hope.

    Citrine took the phone, typed in her contact information, and handed it back.

    Hilda epted the phone with both hands, her face alight with delight. Citrine didn''t understand why this made her so happy, but seeing Hilda''s joy brought an involuntary smile to her own lips.

    Having finally gotten her daughter''s number, Hilda was over the moon. The day''s unexpected happiness had left her a little dizzy, and she didn''t dare risk annoying Citrine by lingering any longer-especially since it really was gettingte. Reluctantly, she said her goodbyes and left.

    She never once nced at Raymond, as if he didn''t even exist.

    Raymond, for this part, had just started to warm up to Hilda because of Citrine''s attitude. But after seeing how intensely interested Hilda was in his daughter, a sharp sense of unease crept in. His expression dark.

    Once Hilda had gone, he turned to Citrine. "Citrine, how do you know President Saunders?"

 Chapter 437

    Citrine''s gaze flickered for a moment. She pressed her lips together, then answered softly, "We''re not close."

    Raymond nced at his daughter, immediately sensing she wasn''t telling the whole truth. But he didn''t push her for more. No one knew his daughter better than he did¡ªif Citrine didn''t want to talk, not a single word would escape her lips.

    On the way home, Raymond refrained from bringing up anything about the CICI Group. Instead, it was Citrine who broke the silence.

    "Are you angry that I kept the CICI Group from you?" Atst, she voiced the question that had been weighing on her mind.

    Raymond looked taken aback. He hadn''t expected his daughter to care about his opinion, and the realization filled him with both surprise and a quiet thrill. ¡°Of course not. You''re free to make your own choices," he said. The fact that his daughter even cared what he thought meant she was finally starting to open up to him. How could he possibly be upset?

    Citrine''s eyes grew thoughtful. She reached into her bag and handed him a document. "This is the contract for The Carmichael Group."

    Raymond nced at it. "A partnership agreement for the skincare line," he noted, flipping through the pages. He trusted Citrine implicitly and had no intention of scrutinizing the details.

    But just as he was about to close the folder, something on the page caught his eye. His expression changed to one of disbelief. ¡°A fifty-fifty split? Citrine, that''s incredibly generous."

    Raymond was a businessman. He knew exactly how lucrative CICI Group''s pharmaceutical skincare division was-countlesspanies would kill for a share, and even a measly twenty percent would be a windfall. He never imagined Citrine would offer him an even split.

    Determined not to take advantage of his daughter, Raymond was about to refuse.

    But Citrine''s eyes softened, and she looked at him with unusual seriousness. "You''re not like the others." To her, no one else couldpare to Raymond.

    It stunned him to realize how special he was in his daughter''s eyes.

    He gazed at her, warmth flooding his heart. Words failed him; there was nothing more to say.

    Her words echoed in his mind, filling him with a happiness he had never known-

    a gentle, radiant warmth. In that moment, he felt truly blessed.

    Then, as if remembering something, Citrine pulled out another contract and handed it to him.

    She got straight to the point. "I want to create something called Blood Rain. I''d like The Carmichael Group to join as well."

    "Blood Rain?" Raymond repeated, momentarily puzzled.

    ¡°It''s a business alliance," Citrine exined. "The details are all in the contract."

    A flicker of surprise crossed Raymond''s eyes.

    He knew that in Crestwood, only one person had ever taken a business alliance to its peak: the chairman of Steris Group. Everypany

    under his umbre was fiercely loyal, following hismand without question.

    Gettingpanies to join was easy-getting them to obey was almost impossible.

    It took all your effort and then some.

    Raymond looked at Citrine, a hint of

    concern in his eyes. "If you need anything from me, just say the word. I might not be able to do everything, but I give it everything I''ve got to support you."

    Citrine nodded, her expression softening as she looked at him. "Okay."

    The next day.

    As soon as the news broke that Citrine was the chairwoman of CICI

    Group, it exploded all over somet

    media, shooting straight to the top of the trending topics.

    When the entire Carmichael family saw the report at home, they almost thought it

    was just someone with the same name¡ªuntil they saw Citrine''s photo.

    "Is this for real?" Several pairs of eyes stared at Raymond, whose face betrayed no emotion.

    Weston couldn''t believe what he was reading. He even put on his reading sses for a closer look. "Maybe the reporters got it wrong?" he muttered.

    Raymond finally spoke. "It''s true."

    "So you knew about this all along?" Weston shot his son a disgruntled look, his tone tinged with jealousy.

    Raymond shook his head. "No, I only found out the night before you did."

    At that, Weston''s expression softened a little.

    He gave a dismissive snort. "I knew it. If that girl didn''t tell me, there''s no way she''d tell you."

    Raymond just rolled his eyes in exasperation.

 Chapter 438

    "Dad, what makes you so sure Citrine is closer to you than to me? I''m her actual father, you know. She told me herself I''m not like everyone else."

    Honestly, he couldn''t figure out where his father''s confidence came from. What made the old man think he ranked higher in Citrine''s heart than her own dad?

    Weston, stumped, could only bluster. "Well, I''m her grandfather! Of course I''m the one she''s closest to."

    Raymond couldn''t be bothered to argue. He just pulled out his phone and started scrolling.

    Manley, on the other hand, had already seen what his niece was capable of. He''d been shocked to learn she was the CEO of CICI Group, but it wasn''t hard for him to ept given herwork and talents.

    It was Weston and Salome who were truly floored.

    Weston was still struggling to process the news, while Salome paced the living room, hands sped behind her back, beaming with pride.

    "No wonder she''s my granddaughter. With a kid like her, the Carmichael family must have some guardian angel looking out for us."

    "I swear, from now on, people are going to have to treat me with respect just for being her granddad."

    Weston had never imagined that the things he''d chased all his life-things he''d never managed to aplish-would be achieved so spectacrly by his granddaughter.

    He thought back to when CICI Group firstunched its medical robots, those cutting-edge devices and pharmaceuticals, and now, their breakthrough in cosmeceuticals. Just thinking about it left Weston in awe. Each generation really does outshine thest.

    Thanks to Citrine, the whole family had just leapt up a rung on the socialdder.

    The moment news broke that Citrine was the CEO of CICI Group, eagle-eyed reporters dug up even more: she was a student at Crestwood University, and, ording to insiders, also the wildly popr online novelist known as Obsidian. Within hours, someone found Citrine''s Instagram. Her follower count skyrocketed from a modest couple hundred thousand to a staggering eighty million-outpacing even most celebrities.

    Her Instagramments section exploded.

    "Is this real life? We''re both college students, but the only thing I excel at is ordering takeout. Meanwhile, my friend''s running a publicly tradedpany!¡±

    "Oh my god, I went to school with Citrine-she''s only eighteen! CICK Group was founded a little over a

    year ago,

    which means she started

    thepany at seventeen, while still

    in high school. That''s insane."

    "She''s already hit the peak of life at eighteen, running her own empire. I''m twenty- eight, earning barely enough to scrape by, grinding away with no end in sight."

    "Not only is she a CEO, she also writes novels-bestsellers that have taken the world by storm. She''s got to be fate''s favorite child."

    "And she''s gorgeous, too. Beauty and brains, all in one."

    "Honestly, she''s way better than those bloated old execs who only know how to y office politics."

    "Hey, Citrine, is yourpany hiring? I''d love to apply!"

    ...

    The news spread like wildfire across Crestwood University.

    That afternoon, when Citrine returned to her dorm, her three roommates stared at her in stunned silence.

    "Why are you all looking at me like that?" Citrine paused, rubbing her cheek self- consciously.

    Ingrid swallowed, wide-eyed. "We saw your Instagram, Citrine. Honestly, our hearts are still racing."

    It was awkward. Suddenly, the girl they''d lived with day-in and day-out was the CEO of a Fortune 500pany. Ingrid had no idea how she was supposed to act around her now.

    The other two girls stood stiffly at attention, hands pressed to their sides like they were reporting to their boss.

    Jane, especially, looked

    overwhelmed. Getting into CICI Group had always been her dream, her ultimate career goal. She never imagined her own roommate would turn out to be thepany''s CEO.

    Citrine sighed, exasperated. "I told you before, didn''t I? I said I was CICI Group''s

    CEO, but you all thought I was joking."

    As soon as she said it, their

    memories clicked into ce. Citrine

    really had mentioned it in passing,

    but not one of them had believed her they''d all thought she was just kidding around.

 Chapter 439

    Sensing the tension in the room, Citrine couldn''t help butugh. "Rx, I''m not going to bite you," she teased. "Seriously, lighten up."

    She nced around at her friends. "No matter what my background is, we''re still roommates¡ªand friends." Thest thing she wanted was for her identity to change the way they treated her.

    Her words seemed to break the ice. The girls visibly rxed and slipped back into their usual selves.

    Ingrid looked genuinely moved. "Citrine, you''re unbelievable. You''re not stuck up at all. I swear, you''re the most down-to-earth CEO I''ve ever met."

    Lisa grinned. ¡°I can''t believe the chairman of a Fortune 500pany is my roommate. Makes Crestwood University feel totally worth it."

    Jane''s eyes practically sparkled as she stared at Citrine. Who could me her? Her idol was standing right in front of her.

    She was so excited she could barely get the words out. "Citrine, you''re honestly amazing. You''re my role model."

    Listening to their praise, Citrine just smiled. "You''re all incredible, too. If you made it to Crestwood, that means we''re all exceptional.¡±

    The girls glowed with pride at her words.

    After all, it wasn''t every day the chairwoman of CICI Groupplimented you.

    In that moment, they made a silent vow: no more skipping 8 a.m. sses. If Citrine could lead by example, so could they.

    She was so inspiring-they wanted to follow her lead, not fall behind.

    Meanwhile, Hastings was hit with a mix of shock and dread when he heard the

    news.

    He''d never imagined that Citrine was the CEO of CICI Group. All this time, he''d assumed her only connection was to the Carmichael family, and he''d always considered his own status his greatest advantage when dealing with her.

    But now, this girl he''d thought of as ordinary suddenly turned out to be the head of a multinational corporation. The realization left him shaken and more than a little anxious.

    He''d already been struggling these past few days, unable to snap out of it, and now seeing her name trending online only made things worse.

    He slumped on the couch, shirt cor open, a cigarette dangling from his lips-he''d lost count of how many he''d smoked. The tip glowed and faded, matching his restless mood.

    Finally, after hours of wrestling with himself, he changed clothes and drove alone to Citrine''s ce.

    When he arrived, the housekeeper

    opened the door. Seeing a strange man at the threshold, she didn''t let him in right away. Instead, she called out inside, "Miss, someone''s here to see you."

    Citrine appeared a momentter, leisurely cradling her cat in her arms.

    Hastings stood frozen, taking in the sight.

    She wore a simple nightgown, her,

    face makeup-free and fresh. Sheet

    smiled down at her cat, asionally dropping a kiss on its head, her eyes filled with unmistakable affection.

    The cat purred in utter contentment, clearly relishing the attention.

    Watching her profile, Hastings felt his heart melt. For a moment, he actually envied the cat curled up in her arms. To be that close to her... it looked like pure happiness.

    Citrine finally nced up, and upon seeing Hastings at the door, her expression shifted.

    "What are you doing here? I thought I made myself clearst time," she said, her tone edged with impatience.

    "Citrine, can we talk?" he pleaded, sounding more desperate than he meant to. Ever since theirst confrontation, he hadn''t had a decent night''s sleep.

    She sighed, knowing he wouldn''t leave unless she agreed. "Fine," she said, not bothering to argue.

    A flicker of hope crossed Hastings''s face as he stepped forward.

    But just then, Citrine wrinkled her nose, taking a few steps back. Her expression was one of obvious distaste.

    "Have you been smoking?" she asked, frowning.

 Chapter 440

    Hastings immediately realized his mistake. He stepped back, apologizing, "Sorry." He hadn''t known she hated the smell of smoke.

    As soon as he spoke, Hastings retreated further, standing outside the door.

    Citrine slipped on a jacket and nced at him coolly. "Let''s talk outside."

    They went downstairs and got into Hastings''s car. He tried to sound casual. "There''s a new bistro nearby. How about we grab a bite?"

    Citrine didn''t even hesitate. "No. That''s unnecessary. We won''t have much to say anyway." She had no interest in sharing a romantic meal with a man she could barely stand.

    Hastings seemed to take the hint; his face went pale.

    "You really hate me that much?" he asked quietly.

    She wouldn''t even spare him the time for dinner.

    Citrine''s lips curled in a faint, unapologetic smile.

    She spoke first. "I''m sure you''ve seen mytest Insta post."

    There was a trace of disdain in her voice. "Hastings, face reality. I''ve got money, power, and the Cooper family doesn''t scare me. To me, you''re just a ything- when I''m in a good mood, you get a treat; when I''m not, you get pped down."

    If anyone else had spoken to Hastings like this, he would have snapped their neck without a second thought. But with Citrine, he was helpless.

    "A ything? Citrine Carmichael, you really are heartless." Hastings stared at her, stunned by how cold she could be.

    If Citrine weren''t the chairwoman of CICI Group, maybe Hastings could''ve used his own family''s influence to pressure her. But she wasn''t just anyone-she was the chairwoman, and not in name only. She actually held power. Unlike him, the so-called heir of the Cooper family, who was still under his father''s thumb.

    Citrine barely lifted her eyes, her tone dripping with mockery. "Since you know I don''t have a heart, why don''t you go home?" She wanted him to feel utterly humiliated.

    Hastings pressed his lips together. He wanted to hate this woman, but somehow, he just couldn''t.

    Looking at her, he said quietly, "If I''m just a ything, why don''t you keep ying with me?"

    "Go ahead, use me. I''m right here."

    Citrine raised an eyebrow, surprised by just how low the once-arrogant golden boy could stoop. "Wow. Didn''t think you had it in you, Hastings."

    Was this really the same man who used to look down on her, torment her every chance he got?

    Unbelievable.

    She looked him up and down, and her smile turned cruel. "Too bad I''m not into desperate men. It''s pathetic."

    She was losing patience. "Isn''t it embarrassing for the Cooper family''s only heir to grovel like this?"

    §Ö§ä

    No one had ever called Hastings pathetic before. He let out a cold, incredulousugh and suddenly grabbed her by the throat. "Pathetic? Citrine Carmichael, you really think I''d grovel for anyone else? It''s only ever been for you. Can''t you see that?"

    Citrine just grinned at him, unbothered. ¡°Oh, I see it."

    With a scoff, she knocked his hand away from her neck and spoke

    really think all this groveling will make you my boyfriend?"

    slowly, deliberately. "But do and

    "If that''s what you believe, let me be clear: keep dreaming."

    She leaned in, twisting the knife. "Hastings, I''m going to have a boyfriend

    someday. I''ll marry him, have kids. But it''ll never, ever be you."

    Hastings''s eyes burned with rage. "Citrine Carmichael, you really are ruthless."

    Just picturing her with another man made him feel like he was losing his mind. The thought of her getting married-he honestly wasn''t sure he could stop himself from killing whoever it might be.

 Chapter 441

    Watching the once-proud golden boy reduced to such pathetic desperation, Citrine felt a rush of satisfaction.

    She leaned back, her voice carrying a hint of mockery. "Hastings, just a friendly warning-don''t get any foolish ideas about your ce."

    After a pause, Citrine''s lips curled into a wicked smile. "But if you want to be my pet? Maybe I''ll consider it."

    Hastings'' eyes zed red with anger. He mmed his fist against the steering wheel. "Citrine Carmichael, you''ve got some nerve."

    He stared straight at her, searching for a flicker of mercy in that beautiful face. But her eyes were cold as ice, filled with nothing but contempt.

    He couldn''t understand it. Not long ago, they''d sat together, talking for hours, sharing secrets. She''dforted him, even helped his teammates work through their nightmares. When had everything changed sopletely?

    The thing that infuriated him most was himself. He knew she was toying with him -yet he couldn''t walk away.

    Their eyes locked, Citrine''s face perfectly calm.

    In the end, Hastings caved.

    "Fine. I''ll be your dog. Is that what you want?" He spat the words, jaw clenched, hating himself for his weakness.

    Citrine didn''t even look surprised. Her voice was cool and measured. "If you''re my dog, you do as I say."

    "What do you want from me?" Hastings pressed his lips together, looking her dead in the eyes. He had the sinking feeling he''d just stepped into a trap, but he didn''t want to escape.

    Citrine looked at him, as if weighing his resolve. "You''re really willing to do anything I say?"

    He nodded, a flicker of hope darting through his eyes. "As long as you don''t treat me like you did before."

    She lowered her gaze, her tone almostzy. "Right now. Delete every way you have of contacting Kali."

    Hastings froze, clearly not expecting that demand. But without hesitation, he pulled out his phone. He scrolled to his messages, then, in front of Citrine, blocked and deleted Kali. He worked through his contacts and every app, making sure she was gone.

    "Done." He handed the phone to her, as if seeking approval.

    Citrine didn''t bother taking it. She smiled, her praise soft but cutting. "Good boy. Well done."

    The genuine amusement in her eyes made her mood obvious.

    For the first time, Hastings realized that following her orders actually softened her attitude. She wasn''t as in his chest eased.

    cold and some of the tension in

    He opened his mouth, struggling for words. "I did what you asked. Can you stop treating me like dirt now?"

    Citrine said nothing.

    He wasn''t ready to give up. Pressing his lips together, he tried again. "Can I still see you?"

    "We''ll see. Depends on my mood." This time, Citrine didn''t t-out refuse.

    With that, she stifled a yawn, making it clear the conversation was over. "It''ste. I''m heading home."

    She pushed open the car door and left without another nce.

    After she was gone, Hastings sat in the car, lighting a cigarette. He rolled down the window and let the cold night air wash over him.

    He stayed parked outside for nearly an hour before finally driving off.

    At the hospital-

    Two days passed. Hastings still hadn''te. Kali grew more anxious by the hour.

    She opened her social app, hesitating for a long time beforeposing a message: Hastings, you haven''t visited me in a week. Are you mad at me?

    She checked it over, added a crying emoji at the end, and hit

    send feeling a little better, ne

    notification popped up: Message failed to send. Hastings had deleted her.  s?novel

    Kali''s face went pale. She quickly flipped to her contacts and dialed his number.

    It rang and rang, but he never picked up. After a while, a recorded female voice came on: "The number you have dialed is not avable. Please try againter."

 Chapter 442

    Kali, refusing to believe it, tried calling two more times, but the result was the same.

    "I''ve been blocked." Her knuckles went white around her phone, her voice trembling with agitation.

    Just then, Theo came over.

    He saw the strained look on Kali''s face and frowned. "What''s wrong?"

    "Brother, Hastings has deleted and blocked every way I have of contacting him." Kali''s voice was thick with emotion, on the verge of tears.

    Theo was surprised by her words, but seeing how upset his sister was, he couldn''t help but curse Hastings under his breath. ¡°That bastard''s lost his mind. All this over some woman?"

    Kali''s fear gnawed at her. There had always been other women around Hastings before, but back then, she only had to pull a few strings and he''d send them packing. Whenever it came down to a choice, she was always the one he picked.

    She thought Hastings would never change-until Citrine appeared.

    That wretched woman had actually gotten Hastings to cut her offpletely.

    Kali, eyes zing, looked at Theo. "It''s Citrine. It has to be her-she''s the one who made Hastings do this."

    Theo silently cursed Hastings again, then tried tofort Kali. "Don''t worry, Kali. Hastings has always cared about you most. He''d never be so heartless."

    With that, Theo left the hospital room and immediately called Hastings.

    The call connected at once.

    Standing in the hospital corridor, Theo lowered his voice, though his irritation seeped through. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you cut Kali off? She''s miserable because of you."

    On the other end, Hastings''s patience snapped. "If it weren''t for her, Citrine and I wouldn''t be like this now. I haven''t even yelled at her out of respect for the years we''ve known each other, and she has the nerve to be upset?"

    "So now you''re ming Kali?" Theo was taken aback. He could hear the resentment in Hastings''s voice-resentment that was never there before. Hastings used to dote on Kali more than anyone, even more than Theo himself.

    Hastings didn''t deny it. "Yeah, I am. Why shouldn''t I? If she hadn''t set up Citrine, none of this would''ve happened."

    Theo''s tone turned cold. "Hastings, you''re a real piece of work. You''ve only known Citrine Carmichael for what, a few months? You''ve known Kali for over a decade."

    "I love her," Hastings said.

    Those three words made Theo think he''d misheard. "What did you just say?"

    "I love her," Hastings repeated, steady and clear. "I won''t let anyone hurt her. Not even Kali."

    Theo felt a strange difort twist in his chest. He kicked the hospital bench, his anger boiling over.

    "You''ve let her beauty go to your

    head, haven''t you? Citrine

    Carmichael is trouble¡ªand you''re not worried she''ll destroy you?"

    Hastings''s reply was unwavering. "I''m not afraid. Even if she does, I''d ept it."

    There was a moment''s pause. Then,

    remembering what he''d heard an

    hour earlier, Hastings''s voice grew even sharper. "Theo, you know damn well your sister set up

    Citrine and your father tried to hurt her. Do you realize Citrine almost died because of him?¡±

    His voice rose, raw with fury. "If you or your father ever try to use Citrine as a blood donor for Kali again, don''t me me for cutting you off for good.¡±

    Theo was stunned, staring at his phone as if he didn''t know the man on the other end. "Hastings, don''t act like some saint. All those other donors for my sister-you were the one who found them."

    At that, Hastings went silent, a dangerous edge flickering in his eyes. Then his voice turned icy. ¡°Citrine is different. I don''t care about the others. But if your familyys even a finger on her, I''ll make sure you regret it."

 Chapter 443

    Since thest time she''d seen her daughter, Hilda had been counting the days. It had been far too long.

    Today, she finally gave in. She drove to Crestwood University.

    Once she reached the campus gates, Hilda sent her daughter a message:

    "Citrine, I brought you a little something. I''m outside your schoole out and get it, would you?"

    Citrine was just about to start an experiment when she nced at her phone. She hesitated for a moment; the weather outside was freezing. After thinking it over, she replied:

    "I''m in the middle of ab experiment. Juste in-I''m in Sage''s Building,b 230."

    Hilda hade prepared to wait at the gate for a glimpse of her daughter. She hadn''t expected a quick reply. Seeing Citrine''s message, her heart leapt. She immediately entered the campus, following Citrine''s directions through the maze of buildings.

    When Hilda arrived, she found Citrine at the center of a small crowd. d in a crisp whiteb coat, Citrine spoke with confidence and rity, exining her analysis of the experiment''s data to her peers.

    She stood at theb bench, poised and radiant, so focused and brilliant that Hilda couldn''t help but stare, utterly captivated.

    When Citrine finished, the room erupted in apuse.

    "That was amazing-I understood everything for once!"

    "You''re incredible, Citrine. Honestly, you exined it better than our professor does. No wonder he''s always praising you."

    "Thanks so much! If it weren''t for your help, we never would''ve finished this experiment on time."

    Someone called out, sincere and grateful, "You''ve done enough for us-let us treat you to lunch this afternoon!"

    Citrine smiled, shaking her head. "Thanks, but I''ve got nster."

    The group protested, "Don''t say that, Citrine! We''ll definitely need your help again someday. Please don''t get tired of us pestering you."

    Their good-natured plea made Citrineugh, her eyes bright. "Alright, just message me if you run into any trouble."

    Only then did Citrine notice Hilda sitting quietly by the door.

    She gathered her things and walked over. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

    Hilda stood quickly, flustered. "Oh, not at all! I just got here myself."

    "Let''s go,¡± Citrine said, opening the door and holding it for her mother.

    They left theb together, Citrine leading the way.

    Outside, Hilda couldn''t hold back her pride. "Citrine, you were brilliant in there. I''m so proud of you."

    ¡°Thank you.

    Citrine''s eyes softened. She''d heard simr praise countle

    times, but hearing it from

    different-strangely meful.

    It had rained recently, and now the cold was biting. After a moment of silence,

    Citrine spoke first. "Would you like toe over to my ce?"

    Hilda hadn''t expected the invitation-her heart soared, and she nodded eagerly.

    When they reached the parking lot, Hilda opened the trunk to retrieve the gifts she''d brought. The entire trunk was packed full-far more than she could carry on her own. Citrine quickly joined in to help, ando together, they managed to haul everything out.

    Hilda had assumed the Carmichaels were living with Citrine, but as she stepped

    into Citrine''s apartment, she realized her daughter lived alone.

    Hilda''s expression darkened. "What''s your father thinking, letting you live by

    yourself?" Just the thought of it made her anxious.

    Young women living alone there were so many risks.

    Citrine paused, understanding Hilda''s concern. "There''s usually a housekeeper here," she exined. "It''s safe, I promise."

    Though Hilda''s frustration with Raymond lingered, she didn''t want toin in front of Citrine. After all, at thest family gathering, it was clear her daughter and O ex-husband got along well.

    Once Citrine had put away the gifts, she led Hilda into the living room.

    "Make yourself at home. I''ve sent the housekeeper out to pick up groceries¡ªit''s

    too cold out. Let''s just have dinner here tonight."

 Chapter 444

    "Yeah." Hilda nodded.

    She eased herself down onto the couch.

    But just then, a sh of gray darted out from under the coffee table.

    Hilda froze as she locked eyes with a cat perched on the sofa; panic surged through her, and she screamed, leaping to her feet and scrambling to the far side of the room.

    Citrine was filling a ss of water in the kitchen when she heard themotion in the living room. She rushed over, only to see her Maine Coon arching its back and hissing at Hilda from the couch.

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh, both amused and exasperated. She never would have guessed Hilda was afraid of cats, but seeing how shaken she was, Citrine quickly crossed the room and gently patted Hilda''s back to calm her. "Don''t worry ¡ªit''s just my cat. He doesn''t bite, I promise."

    "He loves sneaking up on people for fun. Pulls this little prank on me all the time. I''m really sorry he startled you."

    Turning to the cat, Citrine''s tone grew a shade firmer. "Happy, that''s not nice. Apologize."

    To Hilda''s amazement, the Maine Coon immediately sat up straight on the sofa, raised both paws, and made a gesture that looked suspiciously like a little bow.

    Hilda''s eyes went wide. She hadn''t expected the cat to actually understand. For a moment, she was too surprised to speak.

    Citrine caught the look on her face and grinned. "I watched a bunch of videos aboutmunicating with cats online. After a while, he really does seem to get what I''m saying."

    With that, Citrine made a shooing motion. Though Happy looked a bit put out, he obediently wiggled his fluffy tail and trotted off, disappearing around the corner.

    Once the cat was gone, Hilda''s nerves finally began to settle.

    A wave of regret washed over her. She wondered if her panicked outburst had frightened her daughter.

    But Citrine didn''t seem bothered by the incident at all, so Hilda let it drop.

    They sat together on the couch, half-watching the TV, until finally, Hilda broke the silence. ¡°Citrine, has your father treated you well all these years?"

    Citrine nodded. She didn''t mention that she''d only moved back in with the Carmichaels a little over a year ago.

    "You two seem really close," Hilda said, a trace of envy in her voice.

    Citrine turned and regarded Hilda with a calm, almost indifferent expression. "We''re... alright. He matters a lot to me."

    Hilda hesitated, her face clouded with difort.

    But before Hilda could say anything else, Citrine''s brow furrowed and she asked abruptly, "If you care so much, why did you leave me in the first ce?"

    Citrine wasn''t naive. She could

    sense Hilda''s feelings for her-the affection was obvious. That was precisely why she couldn''t

    understand why, years ago, Ailda

    had given her up.

    Both women were too sharp to dance around the truth. They each knew who the other was, and for Citrine, there was no longer any point in pretending otherwise.

    She''d wanted to ask this question for a long time.

    "So you finally admit it," Hilda whispered, breath catching in he throat. She''d always known, deep down, that Citrine was her daughter, but hearing it out loud hit he harder than she''d imagined.

    Citrine''s face remained impassive. "Does it really matter if I admit it or not? You already know everything."

    She''d spent so long denying it, hoping Hilda would give up. But Hilda only grew more persistent, more attentive, and now, there was no point in denying it anymore.

    Tears welled up in Hilda''s eyes. She

    looked at her daughter and spoke

    quietly, "I''m sorry. I truly am. But

    Citrine, you have to believe me¡ªI never wanted to leave you.

    "No mother could ever bear to give up the child she carried for nine months."

 Chapter 445

    That day marked exactly one month since Young Citrine was born. The Saunders family hosted a modest celebration at a hotel, inviting close friends and rtives. After the party, Hilda was busy seeing guests off, so she handed her baby over to the nanny for a while. But when thest guest had left and Hilda returned, both the nanny and Citrine had vanished without a trace.

    Panic seized Hilda instantly. She called the police and, leveraging every connection the Saunders family had, scoured all of Crestwood in desperate search.

    A few dayster, the authorities found the nanny-but she was dead. The baby was still missing. The police suspected the worst: that the child was gone, too.

    But Hilda refused to ept it. She couldn''t believe her little girl was lost forever. Year after year, she continued searching for any sign of her daughter.

    The memory of that day was etched deeper into Hilda''s heart than any other. It was the day she lost her precious child.

    "It was all my fault. I never should have left you with the nanny," Hilda whispered, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she looked at her daughter.

    If only she hadn''t handed Citrine over that afternoon, none of this would have happened.

    Just as Hilda was about to spiral deeper into guilt, Citrine spoke softly, "I never med you."

    Hilda froze, startled by the words. Before relief could settle in, Citrine continued, "But I''m sorry, I''ve grown used to living without a mother all these years. I think I''ve outgrown the need for one. If you want me to embrace this and call you ''Mom'' with all my heart, I''m afraid I can''t do that."

    It wasn''t resentment that kept Citrine distant. She simply didn''t know what it meant to have a mother. In her world, the word was little more than a title, no different from a stranger.

    Hilda''s heart clenched at the truth in her daughter''s voice.

    Carefully, she tried again. "I... I understand. I won''t force you to ept me. I only hope you''ll give me a chance¡ªat least let me see you from time to time. Would that be okay?"

    Citrine lowered her eyes but, after a moment, nodded. "Alright.¡±

    That one word filled Hilda with cautious hope.

    After lunch that afternoon, Hilda left quietly. She returned to the Saunders estate and immediately instructed someone to purchase the apartment just downstairs from Citrine''s ce.

    Opportunities, she told herself, were made, not given. If she lived right below her daughter, she could see her as often as she wanted.

    The more she thought about it, the more excited she became.

    By the next day, Hilda had Monica pick up a cat from the pet shop.

    On the phone, she reminded her, "Make sure it''s a Maine Coon."

    Monica could only sigh and oblige, carrying her friend''s Maine Coon over as requested.

    It baffled her, She remembered how, years ago at Herschel Saunders''s birthday party, someone''s unruly kid had snuck a cat into Hilda''sp, sending her into a panic. Hilda hadn''t hesitated to kick that family out of the house. Monica never forgot it; Hilda had always been

    terrified of cats.

    So seeing her aunt now, gently poking at the carrier with a hesitant smile, Monica

    couldn''t help but ask, "Auntie, weren''t you always terrified of cats?"

    Hildaughed, her fingers brushing nervously against the cage. "I''m going to see my daughter," she said with a hint of pride.

    No wonder she''s in such a good mood, Monica thought.

    Before Monica could say more, Hilda added, "Citrine has a cat just like this."

    As if that wasn''t enough, Hilda went on, "It''s adorable. She seems to really love

    it."

    "Adorable?" Monica repeated, almost thinking she''d misheard. That word just didn''t sound righting from Hilda.

    Hilda nodded. "Very adorable. And most importantly, my daughter likes it. So I''m going to get over my fear of cats."

    With that, Hilda opened the carrier herself and let the cat out. She reached out, hand trembling just slightly, but determined to ovee her fear for her daughter''s sake, and gently stroked the Maine Coon''s soft fur.  s?novel

 Chapter 446

    Monica stared at the scene, utterly stunned. That''s the kind of ruthless resolve you''d expect from a CEO-able to conquer even the fear that''s haunted her for decades.

    She was sure of it now: her formidable aunt was absolutely wrapped around her daughter''s little finger.

    It wasn''t until several dayster that Jete''s family learned the truth: Citrine was the chairwoman of CICI Group. The news left them all ashen-faced.

    Jete was seething with envy.

    Dick and Aline sat across from each other in the living room, the tension in the air almost tangible.

    Aline''s face was pale, her anxiety barely contained. "Dick, do you think she''s going toe after us?"

    Dick took a drag from his cigarette, his voice dark and venomous. "If I''d known that brat would turn out this capable, I should''ve finished her off back then."

    "I sent her away to Mirage Cay, figured it was a one-way ticket. I thought I''d covered all the bases-who would''ve guessed she''d survive ande back?"

    Aline bit her lip in regret. If only she''d had the nerve to get rid of that wretch for good, they wouldn''t be living in constant fear now.

    Aline couldn''t shake a sense of impending doom. She turned to Dick, her voice certain and low. "She''s going to get her revenge. I can feel it.¡±

    Back then, Dick had harassed Citrine before she was even of age, and it was Aline who''d pushed Sawyer to send Citrine abroad, arranging for her to be shipped off to Mirage Cay.

    Citrine knew everything they''d done.

    Before, Citrine was just a powerless orphan with only the Carmichael family at her back-hardly a threat. But now she was the head of CICI Group, one of Crestwood''s most powerful elites. Sooner orter, she''de for them.

    Especially since that girl could hold a grudge like no other.

    Aline''s tone grew grave. "Don''t be fooled by that innocent act she puts on. She''s ruthless under that harmless face, and she''s nothing if not resilient. She didn''t get

    to where she is by being soft. She''ll never let us off the hook."

    Just then, Jete piped up from the corner. "Mom, Dad, don''t worry. Even if Citrine is chairwoman of CICI Group now, don''t forget-Dad stiff has the Glenwood family behind him. No matter how big CICKGroup is Glenwood''s got the ck Web."

    Dick nodded, consideration flickering in his eyes. "You''re right."

    Aline''s expression eased a little, some color returning to her cheeks.

    After a moment, Dick spoke again, voice low and cold. "While that little brat''s still

    finding her footing, we need to get rid of her for good."

    "What are you nning?" Aline turned to look at him, wary.

    Dick just gave a thin, cruel smile and stayed silent.

    A few dayster, Citrine was at school when her phone rang. It was Carlotta.

    "Citrine, something''s happened at the office!"

    Citrine was in the cafeteria, halfway through lunch. Her brow furrowed, but she kept her voice calm. "What is it? Slow down, tell me what''s going on."

    1.n

    "There''s a crowd outside the building-people are making a scene, iming our products ruined their skin. Now the inte''s exploding with bad reviews, and customers on every tformare demanding refunds." Carlotta was pacing frantically in the office, her voice tight with panic.

    Citrine was unruffled. She spoke gently, soothing Carlotta. "Don''t panic. I''lle

    to the office and handle it."

    Fifteen minutester, Citrine arrived to find the area outside the building packed with angry people, making it nearly impossible to get through.

    She was just about to ask someone what was going on, when a man''s voice cut through the noise, loud and usatory. He pointed straight at her from the crowd. "There she is the CEO of CICI Group!

    Citrine''s face tightened. She started to turn back toward her car, but suddenly, the mob surged toward her.

    "Heartless crook! You sold fake products and ruined my wife''s face-how do you sleep at night?"

    "My mother''s face was destroyed by your stuff! I swear, I''ll make you pay today!" "Medicinal cosmetics? More like poison-who are you trying to fool?"

 Chapter 447

    A group of people charged at Citrine, their aggression unmistakable¡ªthey weren''t here for an exnation. They were here to cause trouble.

    Citrine wasn''t naive; she could see right through their intentions. This was clearly aimed at her.

    So, there really wasn''t anything wrong with thepany''s products after all.

    Just as one of them lunged toward her, Citrine was about to defend herself when arge hand intervened, stopping the attacker cold. In the next instant, Citrine was pulled behind someone''s broad back.

    She looked up and saw Raymond, standing protectively in front of her, refusing to budge.

    Raymond''s face was thunderous as he red at the group. He snapped, "Are you blind? Can''t you see there''s someone here?"

    The thought of what might have happened if he hadn''t arrived in time made Raymond''s blood run cold. Furious, he pointed a trembling finger at the mob. "Listen to me. If anything happens to my daughter, if you so much asy a finger on her, I swear-none of your families will walk away from this unscathed."

    Without waiting for a response, Raymond grabbed Citrine''s hand and guided her around the crowd, straight into the CICI Group building.

    Once inside, Citrine was the first to break the silence. "What are you doing here?"

    "I saw what was happening online. If I hadn''te, who knows what those people would''ve done to you!" Raymond''s frustration was obvious.

    Most daughters would run to their families for help at the first sign of trouble, but not his. Citrine always tried to shoulder everything herself, never asking for help. If he hadn''t stumbled across the news on Instagram, he would have remained blissfully unaware.

    It was the same with that whole Glenwood family fiasco, when they tried to use his daughter as a blood donor. He''d only heard about it through the grapevine, not from Citrine herself.

    Citrine had still been preupied with thepany''s crisis, but Raymond''s words made her snort withughter. "Rx, there''s no way I''d get trampled like that." Honestly, if Raymond hadn''t shown up, she''d been ready to handle those people herself.

    She could deal with problems on her own, but in that split second when someone stepped in to protect her, Citrine found she actually liked the feeling.

    Raymond let out a helpless sigh as Citrine kept smiling, ruffling her hair with gentle affection. ¡°Sweetheart next time something like this happens, tell your dad. Don''t try to shoulder it all alone. I know you''re capable, but sometimes you can lean on me, too. I may not be able to fix everything, but when ites to protecting you, no one is more

    determined than I am."

    It wasn''t the first time Raymond had dered his love for her, but every time Citrine heard it, she was moved.

    People who have never truly been loved always yearn for it. Citrine was no exception.

    She had to admit, she liked how open Raymond was about his feelings. It made it easier to believe she was truly cherished by her family.

    Looking up at him, she gave a rare, sincere promise. "Okay. Next time, I''lle to you."

    Raymond blinked in surprise. Usually, when he said anything like this, Citrine would just brush him off.

    This was new.

    Ever since theirst heart-to-heart, Citrine really had been trying to open up to him. Raymond could feel their bond growing, little by little.

    Thinking back on what had just

    happened, Raymond''s tone greet

    serious. "By the way, what was with those people outside? It looked like they targeted you on purpose."

    Citrine nced at him, correcting him gently. "Not ''looked like.'' They definitely were."

    Before Raymond could respond, Carlotta hurried over.

    She nodded politely to Raymond, then turned to Citrine. "Chairwoman, the negative press about our products is everywhere-bad reviews, warnings, you name it. What should we do now?"

 Chapter 448

    Citrine scrolled through more online posts, her eyes darting over the screen. Suddenly, she let out a softugh, then spoke with calm certainty. "Our product is fine. Launch a crisis management campaign, and have legal draft a cease-and- desist letter."

    Carlotta hesitated, her voice unsure. "But... there are tons of people posting photos of their ruined skin online. They''ve got pictures, they''ve got ''evidence.'' If we go public now, aren''t we just asking to get torn apart?"

    Even Raymond was momentarily taken aback by Citrine''sposure. But remembering his daughter''s sharp instincts, he managed to hold his tongue.

    Then Citrine dropped another bombshell, her tone almost cheerful. "Getting torn apart is exactly what we want. All this attention? We need to seize it."

    Her eyes sparkled with a hint of delight.

    Raymond and Carlotta both stared at her, bewildered.

    Citrine turned to Carlotta. "Go grab a set of ourtest skincare line."

    Still unsure but not daring to question her, Carlotta hurried off to the product department and returned with a boxed set.

    Without hesitation, Citrine opened a bottle of foundation and ced it on the table. She pulled up one of the online photos showing their product-supposedly the culprit behind all the outrage.

    "Spot the difference," she said, gesturing for Carlotta to take a closer look.

    Carlotta and Raymond leaned in, scrutinizing the two bottles.

    After a long moment, Carlotta sheepishly scratched her head. "I can''t see any difference."

    Citrine didn''t waste time. "Look at the serial number on the bottle in this photo. It starts with a three. But our new line with a ''3'' serial number hasn''t evenunched yet."

    She pointed to the official QR code on the online photo. "And this QR code doesn''t work." Pulling out a second phone, she zoomed in on the code with her original phone, then scanned it. The result shed on the screen: counterfeit.

    CICI Group didn''t just use QR codes and serial numbers for their electronics and medical

    devices every product, including skincare, was traceable. Customers could verify authenticity instantly and, if there was a problem, file a im directly on thepany website. The operations department hadn''t received a single legitimate im; it was clear these posts were a coordinated smear campaign.

    Carlotta''s eyes widened as the truth sank in.

    Raymond was floored. He''d known CICI Group''s systems were thorough, but he hadn''t realized their anti-counterfeit measures were this advanced.

    Carlotta brightened, then asked, "So should we just release all this evidence right now? Wouldn''t that shut the rumors down immediately?"

    Citrine smiled. ¡°Carlotta, even bad publicity is still publicity. And if we wait until the rumors are at their worst, imagine the impact when we reveal the truth. The turnaround will be even more dramatic."

    "Our product''s well known, but it''s not a household name yet. This is our chance to push it into the spotlight. Picture what that''ll do for the sales numbers."

    She paused, a sly grin on her lips. "When life buries me in snow, I shovel it into gold."

    Carlotta gave a low whistle. "That''s brilliant, boss."

    Raymond pressed his lips into a smile. "Citrine, I''m impressed.¡±

    It wasn''t just Carlotta-Raymond, a veteran of the corporate battlefield, found himself admiring Citrine''s bold strategy. Turning a crisis on its head and using it for profit-few business leaders dared to think this way.

    ¡°Alright, I''ll get started on the PR campaign right away!¡± Carlotta said, her voice

    trembling with excitement at the thought of the windfall toe.

 Chapter 449

    Negative rumors about CICI Beauty were spreading like wildfire online. Paradoxically, the controversy only made CICI Beauty more famous by the day.

    A few dayster, just as the bacsh reached its peak, CICI Group finally responded. Thepany''s official Instagram posted side-by-side photosparing the alleged "problematic" foundation with the genuine CICI Group product,ying out a series of undeniable proofs.

    The inte exploded. Furious users flooded the ount of the person who started the rumors, digging up everything they could.

    "You jerk! Because of you, I tossed out my real CICI foundation for nothing!"

    "Unbelievable! I knew something was off-I''ve used CICI Beauty for ages and never had a problem! Turns out it''s just someone jealous of CICI Group''s sess, trying to take them down on purpose."

    "You bastard, if I ever catch you, I''ll skin you alive!"

    Ironically, people who''d never cared about CICI Beauty before now feltpelled

    to give the brand a try themselves.

    Less than an hour after the official post went live, CICI Beauty''s sales skyrocketed.

    Carlotta watched the sales numbers shoot up on the dashboard, her grin stretching so wide it nearly reached her ears.

    She turned to Citrine, her voice barely containing her excitement. "Citrine, our total sales just doubledpared to before!"

    "Exactly as expected," Citrine replied,pletely unfazed.

    Now it was time to track down whoever was pulling the strings behind the scenes.

    Citrine got to work on herptop, quickly identifying the leading voices spreading falsehoods about CICI Group''s products.

    She then instructed Crestwood Detective Agency to investigate who these people had been in contact with both online and off.

    Crestwood was a crack team she''d personally built from the ground up; their efficiency was unmatched. In less than five minutes, they sent Citrine a full report on the recent activities of every suspect.

    "Chairwoman, our investigation shows all of them have recently had frequent contact with the same person-Cole, who works under Dick, the president of Glenwood Group''s local branch."

    At that, Citrine couldn''t help but let out a short, coldugh.

    So it was him. Her fingers tapped lightly on her desk.

    She''d been so busy running thepany the past six months that she''d nned to deal with the Glenwood family only after toppling thempletely. Clearly, they were in more of a hurry than she''d thought.

    Apparently, revealing the identity of CICI Group''s chairwoman had made a few guilty parties too nervous to sit still.

    Well, if they''re so eager, she''d be happy to send a little gift to the whole Glenwood family.

    When Dick and Aline heard that not only had their n failed, but CICI Group''s sales had actually doubled, they finally lost theirposure.

    A dark, murderous glint shed in Dick''s eyes. He muttered in a low voice, "That little brat can''t be allowed to live any longer."

    No sooner had the words left his mouth than the doorbell rang.

    Aline hurried to open the door, but there was no one outside.

    She nced around, puzzled, but saw nothing unusual. It wasn''t until she looked down to relock the door that she spotted a package on the doorstep.

    "A delivery? I haven''t ordered anythingtely." She picked up the box, confusion on her face.

    Assuming Dick must have ordered something, Aline tossed the package to him as

    she walked back inside. "Honey, your parcel."

    Dick caught the box, looking equally baffled. "What is this?"

    "It''s not yours?" Aline''s suspicion began to grow.

    Dick shook his head. Then he turned to her, asking, "Could it be something Jete ordered?"

    Aline pressed her lips together, her expression darkening. She answered with certainty, "No, Jete hates online shopping. She always buys what she likes from boutiques in person. Besides, it''s only Monday-if she did buy something, she''d have it delivered to her office, not home."

 Chapter 450

    "Let''s open it up and see."

    Aline took the package from Dick and fetched a box cutter. With careful, deliberate strokes, she sliced through the cardboard, peeling it open bit by bit.

    When she saw there was just an envelope sitting on top, a little relief washed over her. Her whole body seemed to rx.

    She reached inside, about to pull the envelope out, but as soon as her fingers brushed against it, her expression changed in an instant.

    "Aaah!" she shrieked, lurching back and flinging the box across the room.

    "What happened?" Dick demanded, seeing the color drain from her face.

    Aline was visibly shaken; her hands were trembling, her voice choked with fear. "I... I felt something soft. And warm. And... it moved. It''s alive, Dick."

    That''s when Dick noticed the blood smeared on her hand. "You''re bleeding," he said.

    "It''s not mine. It''s from whatever''s in there." Aline couldn''t stop her hands from shaking. The memory of that chilling touch made her feel sick all over.

    Dick eyed the box warily where it hadnded a few feet away. He approached it with caution, picking it up and peering inside.

    When he saw what was in there, his stomach dropped.

    He swallowed hard. "It''s a rat. Someone stabbed it right through, but it isn''t quite dead yet."

    "God, that''s disgusting!" Aline''s face twisted in horror as realization struck. She''d touched a dying rat. Her stomach lurched, and she bolted for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she started retching.

    By the time she came back out, she looked drained, as if every ounce of strength had left her.

    Dropping onto the sofa, she muttered weakly, "It was Citrine. It had to be that bitch. She''s getting back at us."

    Dick frowned, startled. ¡°But I was careful. There''s no way she could''ve found out."

    Just then, he spotted the envelope lying on the floor. He hurried over, picked it up, and dumped out the contents.

    "A sh drive." Without a second thought, Dick plugged it into theptop.

    A folder popped up, filled with a long list of video files.

    He clicked one at random and hit y.

    The footage showed Dick and Aline wrapped in each other''s arms right out on the street. Aline''s belly was huge-impossible to miss that she was heavily pregnant. The two of them whispered something, then, caught up in the moment, started kissing and ended up heading into a hotel.

    At the end of the video, a series of photos shed on the screen: shots of Aline and Dick together before her wedding to Sawyer, and more from after she was married-secret rendezvous behind Sawyer''s back.

    Watching herself on screen, Aline went pale as a ghost.

    No. This video cannot get out. If it does, her reputation¡ªand her daughter''s-will be ruined for good.

    Dick clicked on another video. This time, he barely got a glimpse before he panicked and mmed theptop shut.

    Aline''s face twisted in anger. She snatched the mouse and clicked the video open again.

    Up came a scene: white bedsheets, Dick sprawled across the bed, an arm around each of two stunning women.

    "Well, isn''t this just great, Dick? I was just a kid when I got together with you, and you had the nerve to cheat

    on me with other women? How could you do that to me?"

    Aline forced herself to watch the whole sordid clip, then pped Dick across the face, hard.

    Afterward, she stared at the endless list of videos. Suddenly, she felt a pang of guilt tightening in her chest.

    And as it turned out, Dick was feeling just as uneasy.

 Chapter 451

    The two of them remained seated in front of theputer, watching the next video in silence.

    Dick had just clicked y when Aline''s face suddenly changed. She shot out a trembling hand and mmed the pause button.

    She didn''t dare meet Dick''s eyes. Her voice shook as she whispered, "Honey, can we please stop watching?"

    After so many years together, they could read each other''s thoughts with just a nce.

    Dick''s expression darkened. He pried her hand from the mouse and pressed y again, ignoring her plea.

    On screen, the nightclub was awash in neon, pulsing with music. A woman lounged at the center of a crowd of fresh-faced college guys, her dress daring, her smile even more so. The men jostled for her attention, vying to get close.

    "Pick me, babe. I''m strong-I''ll show you a good time."

    "Come on, gorgeous, I promise you won''t regret choosing me."

    One of them shed a dazzling grin. "Look at us¡ªwe''re a team. We''ll treat you like a queen, Carlotta."

    The womanughed, stuffing a wad of cash into the nearest guy''s suit pocket. She patted his chest and shot a suggestive nce at the others, grinning. "No need to rush, boys. I''ll take care of each of you in turn."

    The video dissolved into a mess of sultryughter and moans.

    Dick''s gaze slid from the screen to the woman beside him. His eyes were sharp, cold-a predator sizing up his prey.

    Aline''s face was ashen. Desperate, she tried to exin, "Honey, let me¡ª"

    Before she could finish, Dick''s hand cracked across her cheek. The sound echoed through the living room.

    He stalked forward, gripping a fistful of her hair. ¡°You ungrateful bitch. I give you and our daughter everything, and this is how you repay me? Sneaking around behind my back?"

    He yanked her hair harder, showing no mercy.

    Aline screamed, her hands iling as she tried to pry his fingers loose. "Let go- let go! You''re hurting me!"

    Dick didn''t stop. If anything, his grip only tightened.

    Something snapped in Aline. In a panic, she grabbed a bottle of red wine from the counter and brought it down hard against his shoulder.

    "You bastard! You can go out and sleep around, but I''m supposed to just sit here and take it? Not a chance!"

    They fell into a wild, vicious struggle, furniture crashing, cushions flying. By the time they stopped, both of their faces were bruised and

    bloodied, the living room a disaster zone.

    Finally, breathing hard, they pulled apart, the fury reced by grim determination.

    Dick''s voice was like ice. "This has to be Citrine''s doing. We have to get that video back. If it gets out, we''re finished."

    Aline''s face twisted with rage and panic-gone was the polished, elegant woman; in her ce was a snarling wreck. "That little tramp. I should have gotten rid of her when I had the chance."

    Dick watched her meltdown with barely concealed disgust. When she finally quieted down, he said coolly, "Call her. Find out what she wants."

    Aline scrolled through her contacts with shaking hands, found Citrine''s number, and dialed, sick with nerves.

    She half-expected the call to go unanswered. To her surprise, Citrine picked up almost instantly.

    Dick snatched the phone and put it on speaker, his jaw clenched tight. "What do you want?"

    Across town, Citrine lounged on her sofa, ying with her kitten. She heard his voice and smiledzily, her tone casual, amused. "Why don''t you guess?"

    Dick''s patience was shot. "We''ll give you anything you want. Just delete the video."

    Citrine let out a soft, mockingugh. "I want you to post a public apology online for spreading lies about CIC Group. And Dick, you''re going to admit to sleeping with actresses signed to Glenwood Group''s film division. Aline, you''ll confess to keeping a string of pretty boys on the side. Finally, I want a public

    statement that your family is

    donating two and a half billion to the local charity foundation, as

    penance."

    Her voice was as cool and unhurried as ever.

 Chapter 452

    Aline looked absolutely stricken, her face pale with anger as she shouted at Citrine, "You want us to confess? How is that any different from having those videos leaked to the public?"

    Dick chimed in, his voice tight with frustration. "Exactly! Are you just messing with us?"

    Citrine just shrugged,pletely unfazed. "Honestly? There''s no real difference. Either way, your reputations are finished."

    She paused, putting on a mock-serious tone. "Well, if there''s any constion, at least you won''t have to worry about those videos being traded around online. At least there''s a shred of dignity left."

    Aline exploded. "You... you''re a monster!" What was this nonsense supposed to mean?

    Citrine didn''t even blink at the insult. Instead, she feigned disappointment. "If you''re not willing, then forget it."

    She moved to hang up.

    That sent both Dick and Aline into a panic, but especially Aline. If those photos and videos got out, her daughter''s true identity would be exposed for the world to see, and any shred of respectability for her and her daughter would be destroyed.

    Desperate, Aline snatched the phone and yelled, "Wait! Fine, I''ll do it!"

    Then, almost pleading, she added, "But you have to promise the photos and videos will never show up online."

    On the other end, Citrine couldn''t help but let out a light, mockingugh. "Aline, do

    you really think you''re in any position to bargain with me?"

    "What''s that supposed to mean?" Aline''s face went ghostly white.

    Citrine''s voice was icy. "I''ll decide if your confession is good enough. If I''m

    satisfied, I might just wipe every copy of those files. If not-well, you know what happens."

    With that, Citrine hung up.

    As soon as the call ended, she broke into a grin. "Idiots. Both of them."

    Meanwhile, Aline and Dick were at each other''s throats back home, their argument growing more heated by the minute.

    Dick''s voice was firm, almost

    desperate. "We can''t agree to this!

    She wants us to confess to wants

    everything, and on top of that, she''s

    forcing us to ''donate'' two and a half billion dors to the orphanage. That''s every cent we have left!"

    Aline shook her head, her tone vicious as she snapped at him, "Don''t be so selfish, Dick! If those videos get out, our daughter and are finished. Who cares about the money? With the Glenwood family''s support, we''ll survive-but our reputations? We''ll never get those back."

    Just thinking about Sawyer made her go pale. "And don''t forget-Sawyer''s a lunatic. If he finds out the daughter he''s raised all these years isn''t really his, he''ll kill us both."

    Dick scoffed. "But Jete is my daughter. Am I supposed to let her go on pretending I''m just her stepfather? You have no idea how humiliating it is, hearing those vultures out there whispering that I''m just some pathetic stand-in."

    Jete was Aline''s biological daughter, and nothing in the world mattered more to her. She shot Dick a cold re, her voice steely. "For our daughter''s sake, you have to do this."

    Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she added, "And when this is all over, you''ll find a way to make your brother get rid of that bitch for good."

    In the end, Dick caved-for his daughter''s sake.

    The next day, Dick and Aline each posted a statement on Instagram.

    Dick, Chairman of Glenwood Group''s subsidiary:

    I need toe clean and take responsibility for my actions:

    First, I admit that I orchestrated the rumors about CICI Beauty''s "bad products." I sincerely apologize to CICI Group for any harm caused.

    Second, while serving as CEO, I abused my position to exploit several actresses working for our film division. I offer my deepest apologies to all the women affected.

    Finally, as a gesture of remorse, my wife and I have chosen to donate $2.5 billion to the Crestwood Children''s Foundation.

    Aline, Dick''s wife:

    I apologize for using this public tform, but must confess my mistakes. In apse of judgment, had an affair outside of my

    marriage, repeatedly betrayin n¨¦t

    my

    husband. My husband and I have decided to donate $2.5 billion to the Crestwood Children''s Foundation as an act of atonement.

 Chapter 453

    The moment the two of them posted on Instagram, it blew up-shared and liked by thousands in a matter of minutes.

    Thements section was a warzone.

    "No wonder there''s been so much hate against CICI Group''s new skincare line. Turns out CICI Group''s just stepped on Glenwood Group''s toes."

    "ssic. An oldpany can''t handle a bit ofpetition, so they resort to dirty tricks. Instead of focusing on their own products, they''re out there sabotaging others. What a bunch of scumbags."

    "No surprise Glenwood Group''s been circling the drain for years. Ever since their Titan Showdown game went viral, and their pharma division had that brief moment of glory, they haven''t had a single real hit. Now even their pharma side is falling apart. At this rate, they''ll be bankrupt soon."

    "I used to think Glenwood was reliable and good value. Guess I was blind. After trying CICI Group''s stuff, I finally understand what quality means. Before that, I mistook garbage for gourmet."

    "That Glenwood regional president and his wife-perfect match, both utterly vile."

    ¡°It''s disgusting. Abusing their power to exploit young actresses, then pretending to ''make amends'' with charity donations? Makes me sick."

    "I hope they catch something nasty."

    "They''d be doing the world a favor if they just disappeared."

    They''d thought their massive $250 million donation would at least soften the online outrage. Instead, the hate only intensified.

    In a fit of rage, they trashed their living room, smashing anything within reach.

    Once they''d exhausted themselves, Dick and Aline forced down their fury and dialed Citrine''s number.

    The call connected after a few rings.

    Aline spoke first, voice tight with anxiety. "We did everything you asked. It''s time to

    delete the backup copies of the videos and photos, like you promised."

    Silence on the line. A few secondster, Citrine''sughter broke through.

    "When did I ever say I''d delete the backups?"

    Aline''s voice rose in panic. "You-before, you¡ª"

    But she stopped as the truth dawned on her. "You''re ying us."

    Citrine didn''t deny it. "Not entirely clueless, are you?"

    Dick''s face turned ashen. He tried again, desperation in his voice. "What do you

    want? What will it take to delete the originals?"

    Citrine sounded almost amused.

    ¡°Delete th¨¨m? Why would I do that? These videos are practically historic-much more fun to keep them around for everyone to see."

    Aline was unraveling now, screaming into the phone like a madwoman. "You bitch!

    You promised! How can you be so shameless?"

    "Promises?" Citrine''s voice was ice-cold, perfectly calm. "If you got fooled, that''s on you."

    "I''m done talking. There''s still a surprise in store for you."

    With that, Citrine hung up.

    Dick and Aline stared at each other in shock.

    "A surprise? What does she mean by that?"

    The realization hit them both at once. They grabbed their phones.

    By then, Instagram was already flooded with leaked videos-footage of Dick and Aline''s affairs, plus clips showing Aline''s ongoing rtionship with Dick both before and after her marriage to Sawyer.

    Within a day, #Aline Dick was trending nonstop. Sawyer and Jete were dragged into it too.

    #AlineDick Exposed

    #SawyerTheUltimate Fool

    #WholsJetesRealDad

    Thousands piled into thements, even digging up old family photos forparison.

    "These two are revolting. She was screwing Dick before and after her wedding?

    I''d bet anything Jete isn''t Sawyer''s kid."

    "No question. Check the video dates-she''s definitely Dick''s."

    "And honestly, has anyone noticed how much Jete looks like Dick?"

    "Poor Mr. Iverson. Wore a fool''s crown for over a decade, raising someone else''s child and never suspecting a thing. That''s just tragic."

 Chapter 454

    "Did you guys watch the full video? It''s disgusting."

    "I knew these rich types were into twisted stuff."

    "Anyone got the link?"

    "If you want the full video, DM me."

    "DM me, I''ll send it for free."

    "DM me, DM me."

    ...

    Aline and Dick scrolled through thements beneath the video, trembling.

    Both of them had always belonged to high society, and now, with their scandal exposed online for all to see, it was as if they''d been stripped naked for public ridicule. The shame was unbearable.

    "We have no choice but to ask my brother for help now," Dick muttered.

    Without another word, he frantically called Talbot.

    The moment the call connected, Dick barely had time to speak before an enraged voice exploded through the receiver. "You absolute idiot! How did our family even end up with someone like you? Do you have any idea how much damage you alone have done to Glenwood Group''s reputation? The stock''s in free fall, and thepany''s social media is flooded with your sleazy photos with your wife. And you still have the nerve to call me?"

    Dick rushed to apologize. "Bro... I''m sorry, I messed up. But the Glenwood family is powerful-you can fix this, I know you can."

    Talbot seethed with fury on the other end. Watching Glenwood Group''s stock price plummet, he wanted nothing more than to strangle his idiot brother.

    And now Dick had the audacity to ask for help again.

    Talbot''s tone was ice cold. "Do you know how many times I''ve had to clean up your messes over the years? How many times have you promised not to screw up again? And have you ever kept your word?"

    Dick was desperate now, his voice cracking with panic. "Please, Talbot, I swear, this is thest time. Just help me one more time, I''m begging you."

    There was a long, heavy silence.

    Finally, Talbot let out a weary sigh and spoke.

    "Dick, you''ve always been hopeless. Dad says you''re done with the branch office -don''t worry about it anymore. He said you''d better figure out your life from here."

    Dick stared at the phone in disbelief. "What do you mean? Dad''s kicking me out of thepany?"

    Talbotughed bitterly. "You''re too much of a liability. If we keep covering for you, you''ll be the end of the Glenwood family. This is the best decision for everyone."

    He added, "Don''t worry. Dad and I will still support you and your family financially. You won''t be destitute."

    With that, Talbot hung up.

    "It''s over. The Glenwood family is abandoning me," Dick whispered, his legs giving out as he copsed to the floor.

    ***

    Meanwhile, at Crestwood Arts Academy.

    That morning, Jete skipped her 8 a.m. ss as usual, sleeping in until she felt like getting up. She was about to call to her two roommates on the lower bunks to fetch he breakfast, but after shouting for a while, she got no response.

    Opening her eyes, Jete saw the dorm room was empty.

    Furious, she mmed a fist into her mattress before sitting up, muttering, "Those

    two didn''t even bother to wake me."

    She quickly got ready and headed

    toward her ssroom, moving ather own pace. In the past, the teachers had

    always turned a blind eye to her behavior because of her family''s influence.

    Jete swaggered into the ssroom as usual, but this time, the teacher stopped her at the door.

    "Jete, you missed your morning ss today. That''s one unexcused absence."

    "Me?" Jete stared at the teacher in disbelief, almost thinking she''d misheard. The female teacher''s voice was cold. "Yes, you. If you keep up this attitude, I suggest you start packing your things-you''ll be expelled if it happens again."

    The teacher red at her with a look that barely concealed years of resentment: Jete had been the ringleader in humiliating her several times before, but the Glenwood family''s power had always forced her to swallow her pride. Now that Jete''s protection was gone, it was time for her to pay.

 Chapter 455

    Jete shot a nce at the teacher on the tform, biting back her anger as she lowered her head. "It won''t happen again," she mumbled.

    As soon as the words left her lips, she made her way over to the group of roommates she usually hung out with. Sliding into the seat beside them, she whispered, ¡°Why didn''t you call me when you guys left earlier?"

    None of them¡ªwho''d always been eager to please her-bothered to respond.

    The smile on Jete''s face faltered for a moment. She waited until ss ended, then forced a grin and looked their way. "Let''s hit the bar tonight. Drinks are on me."

    Even as she said it, a sneer flickered in her mind: Bunch of freeloaders. Living off my money, and now they think they can freeze me out? If you''re so high and mighty, just say no.

    Jete kept smiling, expecting them to wag their tails and jump at her offer like always. But this time, they just stared at her, silent, eyes glinting with mockery.

    "Why are you all looking at me like that?" Jete''s voice wavered as she stared back at them.

    The three exchanged nces, then turned on her, voices dripping with scorn:

    "What''s with the attitude, Miss Iverson? Got a little cash and think you''re something special?"

    "Guess you haven''t checked your phone yet. Everyone online is saying you''re nothing but a bastard-like you deserve to hang out with us. Disgusting."

    "Your mom''s a whore, and you''re her daughter. No wonder you''re always sneaking off with guys behind our backs-you''re just following in her footsteps."

    "Like mother, like daughter."

    "Jete, I''m really curious-are you Dick''s daughter, or Sawyer''s?"

    The three of them crossed their arms, closing in on Jete, herding her into a corner.

    "What are you talking about?" Jete''s face had gone pale, but she kept herposure. She pulled out her phone and opened Instagram.

    Dick and Aline''s names were trending at the top of the search feed. Jete clicked in, and as she saw the photos and thements underneath, her expression changed dramatically.

    No wonder everyone was acting so differently-no wonder their stares felt loaded.

    Jete shoved past them, coldly, not bothering to stay for the next ss. She headed straight home.

    Meanwhile, over in Crestwood, the Sawyer family¡ªwho had moved there some time ago¡ªhad also seen the news.

    At first, Sawyer barely reacted to the explicit photos and videos. But then he spotted ament: Judging by the timeline, Aline was already

    seeing Dick before she marine

    Sawyer. Makes you wonder if Jete is really Dick''s kid.

    Sawyer stared at thement, his face turning ashen. He went back and checked the timestamps on the videos of Aline and Dick-and sure enough, they were together before he and Aline had even met

    A chilling realization crept in. He couldn''t bear to think that the daughter he''d loved all these years might not be his own, but Dick''s. Yet the undeniable resemnce

    between Dick and Jete,

    ove

    sshed all over Instagram, made it impossible to ignore.

    He had to find out the truth.

    Sawyer couldn''t wait another minute. He drove straight to the Glenwood family''s house.

    When he arrived, it was Aline who opened the door.

    Blood streaked her face and arms, her hair a tangled mess-so far from the poised woman Sawyer remembered.

    "What are you doing here?" Aline''s face went white as she saw him, panic shing in her eyes. She tried to m the door, but Sawyer was faster and stronger. He shoved his way inside.

    Jete was there too. For a moment, she froze, a flicker of fear in her eyes.

    But Sawyer didn''t look at Jete. He fixed his gaze on Aline, voice cold and demanding. ¡°Tell me. Whose daughter is Jete?"

 Chapter 456

    Aline felt a chill run down her spine. After all these years with Sawyer, she knew better than anyone he was unhinged beneath that calm surface. Push him too far, and he was capable of anything.

    Swallowing hard, Aline fought to keep herposure. "O-of course she''s your daughter," she stammered, forcing a smile.

    She rushed to add, "You must have seen thosements online, right? None of it''s true¡ªthey''re just making things up. Don''t listen to them."

    Sawyer watched her fidget and squirm, and it was all the confirmation he needed. She was lying.

    His face hardened as he grabbed her by the throat, backing her into the wall. "Aline, did you really think I wouldn''t get a paternity test?" His grip tightened, inch by inch.

    With Dick off visiting the Glenwood family, only Jete was left at home. Panic seized her as she saw Sawyer about to choke the life out of Aline. Terrified, she forced herself to dash over, clutching Sawyer''s arm and pleading, her voice trembling, "Dad, please! Let go of Mom-you''re going to kill her!"

    The thought that Jete might not be his daughter made Sawyer''s skin crawl. He shoved Jete aside with one hand, his other hand squeezing even tighter around Aline''s throat. He spat out the words through gritted teeth, "Tell me, whose daughter is Jete?"

    Aline''s face twisted in pain; she couldn''t make a sound, barely able to mouth the words, "I''ll... I''ll tell you."

    Only then did Sawyer release her.

    Aline copsed to the floor, gasping for breath, clutching her throat as she gulped down air. It took a long moment before she could speak again.

    Jete rushed to help her up. Aline''s legs were still shaking; she kept her eyes down, unable to look at Sawyer.

    Realizing there was no more hiding, Aline finally confessed, "That''s right. Jete''s not your child. She''s Dick''s."

    "I knew Dick before I ever met you. We had a rtionship, and I got pregnant. But Dick didn''t want to get married at the time, so I was

    nning to wait for him. Then el. n

    night, someone set me up and I ended up in your bed. When I found

    out you were the head of the Iverson family, I went to you instead."

    Sawyer''s eyes reddened. He pressed on, voice hoarse, "So, that night... nothing

    ever happened between us, did it?"

    Aline shook her head. "No. Nothing happened."

    Sawyer''s face darkened as he nced at Jete. "And you did you know all along?"

    Jete nodded.

    Now, everything made sense.

    No wonder, when Aline was leaving, Jete insisted on going with her. No wonder, after the Iverson family fell on hard times, Jete wanted nothing to do with him. No wonder Jete always called Dick "Dad."

    "You two are monsters. Absolute monsters." The realization that this mother and daughter had made a fool of him all these years made Sawyer want to strangle them both.

    Aline immediately stepped in front of Jete, shielding her from

    Sawyer''s rage. "Maybe I lied to your I she said warily, "but all these years, I''ve run your household, smiled for you, kept everything in order Even if I haven''t earned your gratitude, I''ve at least paid my dues."

    "Shut your mouth." Sawyer almostughed in disbelief. Years of being made a fool of-raising another man''s child, thinking she was his own.

    He''d given everything to Jete, even nned to leave the Iverson Group to her. He''d gone so far as to keep Citrine at arm''s length, worried she''d fight Jete for the inheritance.

    And in the end, it was all just a joke. He was the punchline.

 Chapter 457

    When Sawyer returned home, he fell gravely ill. His fever soared to 103 degrees, and he slipped into a deep, unresponsive sleep.

    By the time Norton Iverson got home from work, Sawyer was already unconscious. He didn''t dare waste a second-he rushed him straight to the hospital.

    Sawyer tumbled into a nightmare, trapped in a feverish haze, desperately fighting to w his way back to reality.

    Suddenly, the dream sharpened into focus.

    A girl, hair tangled and wild, was tied to a hospital bed. Her helpless sobs wed

    at the air, raw and jagged. Her eyes, red and swollen, streamed with tears-and even flecks of blood.

    She stared at him, pleading. "Daddy, help me. Please don''t let them take my kidney."

    Her frail, sickly face-so pale it was almost translucent-slowly ovepped with the real-life image of that cool, proud girl he knew.

    Citrine.

    Sawyer froze. Who would want to hurt Citrine? Just as he braced himself to rescue her from the operating table, he heard his own voice echo through the dream:

    "Be good, Citrine. If you save Jete, I promise I''ll treat you well from now on."

    Dream-Sawyer stood there, numb, watching Citrine on the hospital bed. Then he turned to the man beside him, speaking with a heavy, deliberate tone. "Theo, let the doctors begin. Once Citrine''s kidney is transnted to Jete, Jete will be healthy again. You two can finally start your family."

    Sawyer recoiled-he couldn''t believe those callous words hade from his own mouth.

    And why, in this nightmare, did he even know Theo? How was Theo involved with Jete?

    Before he could make sense of it, a raw, anguished scream tore through the dream.

    The girl''s voice was hoarse with desperation:

    "Dad, how can you do this to me? If Jete is your daughter, then what am I? You promised you''d always protect me¡ªso why are you hurting me with him?"

    "Theo, the biggest mistake of my life was ever meeting you-was ever agreeing to date you."

    Sawyer watched himself in the dream-cold and unfeeling¡ªand his heart twisted in agony, as if it had been ripped apart.

    Then he saw Citrine wheeled away into the operating room.

    Hours passed before the doors swung open.

    Dream-Sawyer and Theo exchanged a look, then hurried over to the doctor. "Did it work?" they demanded.

    The surgeon pulled off his mask, smiling. "The operation was aplete sess."

    Then he added, "But the other girl-the donor-"

    Before he could finish, Dream-Sawyer interrupted, "She''s dead?¡±

    "No, not dead," the doctor replied. "But she¡ª"

    Sawyer cut him off again, impatient. "We''ll talkter. I need to see my daughter."

    Without another word, Sawyer and Theo rushed off to Jete''s room.

    The doctor stared after them,

    bewildered, then shook his head and muttered, "Unbelievable. Their other daughter is barely hanging on, and they don''t even ask about her. That poor girl."

    Sawyer watched his dream-self with growing fury-he was shaking, wanting nothing more than to punch himself in the face, but he was powerless to touch anything.

    He followed them to Jete''s

    hospital room, where he saw himself and Theo hovering over Jete,

    fussing over her every need, staying

    by her side until she made a full recovery.

    All the while, they never once set foot in Citrine''s room.

    Sawyer couldn''t understand: how could he be so heartless in this world? Why was he so cruel?

    He was desperate to know what had be of Citrine. Maybe his will was strong enough, because suddenly, his awareness slipped into Citrine''s hospital room.

    What he saw chilled him to the bone.

    Citrine was deathly pale, barely

    clinging to life. Her lips were cracked

    and bleeding, her surgical wound

    still oozing fresh blood. For a scrap

    of bread and a sip of water on the table, she forced herself to roll off the bed and, biting back cries of pain, dragged herself inch by inch across the cold floor.

 Chapter 458

    Once she got her hands on the bread, she tore the wrapper open and stuffed it into her mouth, barely stopping to breathe. She looked a mess-pathetic, even- her desperation painfully clear.

    Sawyer''s chest tightened as he watched her. In his memory, Citrine was always clever and understated; she carried herself with a quiet pride, always nning her escape before stepping into anything. To him, she had always been poised and dazzling¨Dnever had he seen her so broken, so vulnerable.

    His heart ached. He couldn''t understand how, even in a dream, he could ever be so cruel.

    Suddenly, the scene shifted. Sawyer blinked, disoriented, and found himself tied to a rooftop. Standing before him were Jete and her daughter Aline, nked by several burly men.

    He was suspended over the edge, with nothing but air and a deadly drop beneath him; the smallest slip and he''d plummet to the ground.

    Jete,pletely unconcerned for his life, fixed her gaze coldly on Citrine. "Citrine, if you want your beloved father to live, you have two choices: jump off this roof yourself, or sign over everypany and asset you own to me. You choose."

    Sawyer barely had time to process what was happening before he heard Citrine''s voice, calm and clear: "Let Sawyer go. I''ll do whatever you want."

    Jete and Aline exchanged a satisfied smile. ¡°Fine. Two options¡ªpick one."

    Everyone expected Citrine to surrender her fortune andpanies to Jete. But Citrine''s answer caught them all off guard.

    "I choose the first one."

    Her words floated in the air. She shot Sawyer a look-half-smile, half-bitterness- then suddenlyughed.

    "Well, if this is what you want, you can have it all."

    She turned to Sawyer, her voice steady. "Sawyer, whatever I owed you, I''ve paid back. In the next life, I hope I don''t have a father like you."

    Without another word, Citrine hurled herself off the rooftop.

    Sawyer''s face drained of color as he watched her fall. Down below, the ground was stained crimson.

    No one had expected she''d actually jump.

    Jete and Aline were stunned for a moment, but quickly recovered. They rushed to untie Sawyer, lowering him to safety.

    Jete threw her arms around him, grinning. "Dad, we did it! Citrine was worth a fortune-her inheritance will make us rich. It''s all ours now."

    Aline''s eyes sparkled with excitement. "We''ll just say she killed herself. No one will ever link it back to us."

    But Sawyer was barely listening, his face ashen, their voices a distant echo.

    He jerked awake in a hospital bed, drenched in cold sweat. Norton, startled by the sudden movement, hurried over to push him back down. "Dad, you''re burning up. What are you doing?"

    "Where''s Citrine? I need to see Citrine."

    The nightmare was still fresh in his mind-Citrine''s leap from the rooftop reyed over and over. She had looked utterly resigned, not a trace of fear in her eyes, only relief.

    Her words echoed: "Well, if this is what you want, you can have it all."

    "Sawyer, whatever I owed you, I''ve paid back. In the next life, I hope I don''t have

    a father like you."

    She''d known all along it was a

    setup-a cruel game to steal

    everything she had. And knowin

    that she''d still yed her part to the end, giving her life for the charade.

    Sawyer felt ice settle in his veins.

    Was it really just a dream?

    It felt all too real-so vivid, it was as if it had truly happened.

 Chapter 459

    Ever since she''d found out her daughter was living at Verona Heights, Hilda didn''t hesitate¡ªshe moved in the very next day, settling into the apartment right below Citrine''s.

    That afternoon, Citrine arrived home just in time to see Hilda in the middle of her move. Hilda, sunsses perched on her nose, directed the movers with crisp efficiency, exuding her usualmanding presence.

    As soon as she spotted Citrine, Hilda slid her sunsses off. Her expression wavered between surprise and something like delight, as if she''d been caught off guard but was secretly pleased.

    Citrine walked over, still unsure what to make of it all. "You moved into Verona Heights?"

    Hilda nodded, lying smoothly. "Mm, it''s closer to the office. Much more convenient."

    Citrine had her doubts, but with that answer, she let it drop.

    ncing at the pile of luggage and boxes at Hilda''s feet, Citrine offered politely, "Need a hand with anything?"

    Hilda smiled, waving her off. "No, no, I''ve got these guys to help me." There was no way she''d let her daughter haul boxes around. Just the thought made her heart ache.

    Citrine smiled faintly, realizing she wouldn''t get anywhere insisting, and made to leave. But just as she turned, Hilda called after her.

    "Citrine, it''s my first night in the new ce. To celebrate, I''ll make a special dinner why don''t youe down and join me?"

    Then, as if to reassure her, Hilda added, "I''m right below you, so it''s easy."

    Citrine agreed with a smile. Looking into her mother''s hopeful eyes, she just couldn''t bring herself to say no.

    Back upstairs, Citrine took a long hot bath, then slipped into her robe and stretched out on the couch, letting herself get lost in a TV show.

    Meanwhile, chaos reigned in Hilda''s kitchen. The once-spotless counters were buried under flour, vegetable peelings, and a growing stack of dirty pans. A skillety on the floor, still smoldering. Hilda hovered at the center of the storm, on the verge of despair.

    Her whole life, she''d been the picture of authority¡ªa powerhouse in business. Who would''ve guessed she''d meet her match in home cooking?

    The clock was ticking. Dinner time was looming, and Hilda knew she couldn''t let this golden opportunity to bond with her daughter slip away.

    Thinking quickly, she grabbed her phone and dialed Nathalie, the Saunders family''s longtime housekeeper. For over twenty years, Nathalie had kept the Saunders household running, her cooking skiffs legendary among family and friends.

    Nathalie arrived in a rush. One look at the kitchen disaster and her eyelid twitched.

    "Ma''am," she sighed, "if you wanted something special, you just had to tell me. I could''ve brought it up. Why put yourself through this?"

    Hilda shook her head, a determined smile on her face. "That won''t do. I want my daughter to eat a meal I''ve made myself."

    Hearing Hilda mention "Miss Citrine,"

    Nathalie paused, tempted to ask

    questions, but in the end she bit her

    tongue, not wanting to upset her employer.

    With a resigned sigh, she said, "All right, I''ll teach you. Tell me what you want to learn."

    Hilda remembered that Citrine seemed to prefer vegetarian dishes thest time they ate together, so she rattled off a few names.

    With Nathalie''s encouragement, Hilda grew more confident. "With you teaching me, I''ll get it right this time for sure."

    It was easier said than done. Once they got started, Nathalie couldn''t help thinking: some people are born to conquer boardrooms, not kitchens.

    The more they cooked, the more Nathalie realized she was in over her head. No matter how much she coached, Hilda''s attempts seemed doomed.

    In the end, after a Herculean effort, Hilda managed to produce seven dishes- barely edible, but technically food.

    Nathalie wanted to suggest Hilda taste them first, but seeing how proud she looked, she just couldn''t bring herself to burst her bubble.

    Well, she thought, let''s just hope for the best for whoever has to eat this tonight.

    With everything as ready as it would ever be, Hilda called Citrine downstairs.

    Citrine, still in her robe, didn''t bother to change. She slipped out her door and padded down to the apartment below, ringing the bell. Within

    moments, Hilda opened the door, beaming.

 Chapter 460

    "Come on in."

    The moment Citrine stepped inside Hilda''s house, she froze for a second. The decor felt so familiar, almost like she''d just walked through the front door of her own childhood home.

    She had no idea Hilda had deliberately hired someone to recreate the look, thinking Citrine must prefer this style.

    Citrine gave Hilda a grateful nod and walked in.

    "Sit here." Hilda pulled out a chair for her, eager and attentive.

    Citrine didn''t stand on ceremony-she sat down right away.

    When she looked at the spread on the dining table, she hesitated. "All these dishes..."

    "Are they not to your taste?" Hilda suddenly sounded nervous, her hands clenched tightly beneath the table.

    Citrine smiled, reassuring her. "No, they''re perfect."

    If she remembered right, these were the same dishes she''d ordered thest time

    they''d eaten together. She was surprised Hilda had remembered.

    Citrine could see the relief wash over Hilda''s face as soon as she spoke.

    "Try some," Hilda urged, her eyes shining with anticipation.

    Everything looked delicious and inviting.

    Without thinking, Citrine reached for the saut¨¦ed greens closest to her, scooping

    up a forkful and popping it into her mouth. Her expression shifted almost immediately.

    How much salt did she put in this?

    Hilda hadn''t touched her own te yet. She just watched Citrine expectantly. "How is it?"

    Citrine''s lips twitched. She forced augh and lied, "It''s really good."

    Hilda beamed, her entire demeanor softening. Hearing her daughter''s praise filled her with a pride that outshone any business deal she''d ever closed.

    Citrine nced over the table, picked another vegetable dish, and took a cautious bite.

    This one wasn''t salty, but it was scorching hot-her mouth went numb from the spice.

    Thankfully, she''d learned her lesson. Instead of shoveling it in, she tasted it slowly, so it wasn''t too unbearable.

    She realized this must be Hilda''s first attempt at cooking.

    Suddenly, she remembered what people in Crestwood used to say about Hilda.

    Hilda Saunders, matriarch of the Saunders family, was Crestwood''s real society queen. Born with a silver spoon, doted on by her parents and two older brothers, she''d been the center of their world since day one.

    With all that pampering, she''d never had to cook a meal for herself. So, it made sense-today was her first time in the kitchen, all for Citrine.

    Thinking about it, Citrine felt unexpectedly moved.

    Just then, Hilda reached for a dish herself.

    Citrine''s face changed. She quickly tried to stop her. "Wait, don''t-!"

    But it was toote.

    Before Citrine could finish, Hilda had already put a forkful in her mouth.

    Within seconds, Hilda''s face twisted in agony.

    "Too much chili," she gasped, spitting the food out. For a moment, she looked like

    a little kid caught red-handed.

    Realizing her daughter had just eaten several bites of her culinary "disaster," Hilda was ovee with guilt.

    "I''m sorry, Citrine. I''m not much of a cook."

    At that moment, Citrine noticed a burn on Hilda''s hand.

    The red mark stood stark against her pale skin.

    "You''re hurt," Citrine said, frowning.

    Before Hilda could protest, Citrine gently took her hand.

    "It''s nothing," Hilda murmured, gazing at her daughter. Citrine''s hands were soft,

    yet surprisingly strong.

    Before Citrine was even born, Hilda had pictured every day dressing her up in matching outfits, walking han in-hand down the street, the perfect mother and daughter.

    Now Citrine was grown, and those dreams seemed out of reach. But in this moment, their hands sped together, Hilda felt a quiet, deep contentment all the same.

 Chapter 461

    Hilda''s heart warmed as she watched her daughter anxiously eyeing her injured hand. In that moment, she almost wished the burn were worse¡ªjust to win a bit more of her daughter''s sympathy.

    The angry red mark on her hand stood out starkly, making Hilda wince. She quickly pulled herself together and turned to her daughter. "Come upstairs with me. Let''s take care of this."

    Right now, all Hilda could think about was her daughter, so she followed without question, standing up and heading upstairs alongside her.

    Once there, Citrine rummaged through the hallway cab until she found the best burn ointment they had. Sitting across from her mother, she took Hilda''s hand, gently pulling it closer, then began to dab the cooling cream onto the burn, bit by bit.

    Noticing Hilda watching her so intently, Citrine assumed she was worried. "Don''t worry," she said softly. "It won''t leave a scar."

    Scars were thest thing on Hilda''s mind. All she could feel was her daughter''s care-a tenderness hidden beneath that calm, detached exterior. For the first time, Hilda sensed the soft heart beneath Citrine''s cool surface.

    Just then, a sudden sound broke the stillness.

    Citrine looked up at Hilda, but Hilda flushed with embarrassment and quickly pressed a hand to her stomach, ncing sheepishly at her daughter. After hours in the kitchen, she was absolutely starving.

    Citrine chuckled. "What do you want to eat? I''ll make us something."

    Hilda blinked in surprise. "You know how to cook?"

    She''d always known Citrine grew up as the Iversons'' adopted daughter before reconnecting with her biological father, Raymond. The Iversons were wealthy-at least before their bankruptcy-and the Carmichael family even more so. Hilda had always assumed her daughter had never needed to lift a finger in the kitchen. But reality, it seemed, was different.

    Citrine gave her a small nod. "Yeah, I can cook."

    She handed Hilda the TV remote. "Put something on and rx. I''ll go start dinner."

    After Citrine left for the kitchen,

    Hilda''s cat wandered in. This time, the little creature didn''t startle her instead, it meowed sweetly at

    feet. Hilda had managed to h

    conquer

    her fear of cats recently-adopting one herself had helped. Now, when Citrine''s kitten approached, she reached out a hand, her voice warm. "Come here, little one. Come sit with Grandma."

    As if it understood, the kitten hopped onto the sofa and settled down beside her.

    Hilda noticed the golden tag hanging from the kitten''s cor. She picked it up, squinting at the tiny engraved words:

    Citrine, happy birthday. Love, Dad-always.

    This cat had been a birthday gift from Raymond. Hilda''s heart twisted-not just with sadness, but with jealousy. She envied Raymond for being there to celebrate Citrine''s birthday, envied him for recognizing her as his daughter before Hilda ever had the chance. They seemed close-so close, it frightened her. What if she lost Citrine for good?

    In the kitchen, Citrine was already busy preparing dinner when Hilda wandered in.

    "Is there anything I can help with?" Hilda offered.

    Citrine handed her a couple of garlic cloves. "You can peel these for me."

    As Hilda worked on the garlic, she watched Citrine chop vegetables with practiced ease, as if she''d done it a thousand times before. Hilda

    hesitated, then asked,ve

    to cook for yourself at the

    Carmichaels''?"

    Her tone was sharper than she intended-anger simmering beneath her words. The thought of her daughter having to fend for herself in that household made her want to tear the Carmichaels apart with her bare hands.

 Chapter 462

    At that moment, Citrine didn''t pick up on the true meaning behind Hilda''s question; she simply assumed her mother was making casual conversation.

    She shook her head. "No, the Carmichaels have a housekeeper. They don''t need me to help out."

    Hilda looked unconvinced, suspecting her daughter might be covering for the Carmichaels. Still, she chose not to press further.

    Instead, Hilda made a mental note to visit the Carmichael family herself when she had the time.

    Having Hilda pitch in really sped things up.

    In the end, Citrine cooked six dishes and a soup, and the two of them sat down to eat together.

    "Try some," Citrine said, handing Hilda a fork.

    The meal looked delicious, but it was the aroma that made it irresistible.

    Hilda''s stomach had been growling for ages. She wasted no time spearing a piece of food and popping it into her mouth.

    It was delicious-so much better than she had expected. Her eyes went wide in delight as she turned to Citrine. "This is amazing! Even better than Nathalie''s cooking at home."

    "I''m d you like it," Citrine replied, a hint of satisfaction softening her features.

    Seeing the contented look on Hilda''s face, Citrine felt a quiet sense of aplishment.

    Without a word, she nudged a few more dishes toward her mother.

    Citrine herself didn''t have much of an appetite-she never had¡ªand after just one bowl of rice, she was already full. Hilda, on the other hand, happily polished off most of what remained on the table.

    Only when she waspletely satisfied did Hilda finally head downstairs, humming to herself.

    A few dayster, Hilda made a spontaneous visit to the Carmichael Group offices.

    Raymond was stunned when the receptionist informed him that President Saunders of C. Corp had arrived.

    There had never been any coboration between the Carmichael Group and C. Corp. What on earth was President Saunders doing here?

    Baffled but maintaining hisposure, Raymond immediately instructed his assistant to bring her up.

    It had been several weeks since theyst saw each other, and the woman''s gaze seemed even sharper than before.

    Raymond couldn''t shake the nagging feeling that she harbored some inexplicable hostility toward him.

    Not that he cared much for her, either.

    Without so much as a nce in her direction, Raymond said coolly,

    "President Saunders, you must be extremely busy. What brings you to the Carmichael Group? Unless I''m mistaken, ourpanies don''t have any business together."

    Hilda slipped off her sunsses, settled herselffortably on the sofa in Raymond''s office, and crossed her legs with an air of

    nonchnce. "You''re right. This isn''t a business call-I''m not here to talk

    shop."  isn''t

    Raymond rose from behind his desk and took a seat across from her, his lips curling into a thin, almost mocking smile. "A personal matter? If I recall correctly, this is only our second meeting. What kind of

    personal business could we possibly have?"

    Hilda met his gaze and spoke calmly. "Citrine."

    Raymond stiffened, the smile fading from his lips. "Why are you bringing up my daughter, President Saunders?"

    Hilda didn''t bother with pleasantries. "Raymond, Citrine is my daughter, too."

    His face registered total shock, as if he''d just misheard her. "What did you say?"

    Hilda exined, her voice steady. "Years ago, I was on a business trip in Havencrest. I had a one-night stand with a man at a hotel, and I got pregnant. Citrine is that child."

    She spoke without a hint of embarrassment-affairs like that had never bothered her, and she saw no reason to be ashamed.

    "That man was me?" Raymond''s mind shed back nearly twenty years. He remembered drinking too much that night, and a woman-clearly drugged-had been brought to his suite in the Carmichael Group''s hotel.

    Hilda nodded. "That''s right. It happened at one of your hotels."

    Raymond narrowed his eyes at her. "And why should I believe you?"

    Hilda scoffed. "Believe what you want. I didn''te here for your approval. I

    came to tell you I''m Citrine''s birth mother-and I will get her back."

 Chapter 463

    Raymond''s gaze turned frosty. "So what if you''re Citrine''s biological mother? What right do you have to take her back now?"

    His tone dripped with sarcasm. "You were the one who abandoned her. After all these years, you suddenly remember you have a daughter? Do you really think you''ve done your duty as a mother?"

    Hilda red at Raymond, her voice trembling with emotion. "I didn''t abandon her. Never. I''ve been searching for her all these years I never stopped."

    How could she ever abandon her child? Even before Citrine was born, Hilda had prayed for her safe arrival. Citrine was her precious little girl, the one she''d waited for.

    Raymond''s hostility faded as the truth settled in-Citrine hadn''t been abandoned after all.

    Still, it was clear Hilda was determined to bring Citrine back to the Saunders family.

    Raymond wasn''t sure how his daughter felt about her mother. But really, what child could truly turn their back on their own birth mother?

    A fresh wave of anxiety washed over him.

    Citrine had only just returned to the Carmichael family a little over a year ago. He hadn''t even had much time with her, and she was already an adult.

    Now her mother hade for her. If Citrine really did go back with Hilda to the Saunders family, the time he''d have with his daughter would shrink to almost nothing.

    Raymond fell silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Does Citrine know?"

    Hilda pressed her lips together and gave a small, bitter nod. "She knew before anyone else."

    Even before Hilda found her, Citrine had already discovered her true identity-and wanted nothing to do with it.

    Raymond asked quietly, "She doesn''t want to acknowledge you, does she?"

    Hilda froze, staring at him, stunned.

    He met her gaze and exined, "It''s been almost two years. She still hasn''t called me ''Dad'' even once."

    Raymond let out a bitter chuckle. "She hasn''t ever really epted me as her father."

    "That girl is smart¡ªalmost too smart-but she''s guarded. There''s a wall around her heart, and she won''t let anyone in. She keeps everyone out, and she doesn''t want toe out herself."

    Sometimes, Raymond thought of his daughter as a broken doll, her heart battered and scarred. Every time he looked into those cold, joyless eyes, his own heart ached.

    After listening to Raymond, Hilda asked softly, "You... you really know Citrine."

    Raymond offered a faint smile. "Maybe notpletely. Butpared to you, I know her better."

    Hilda''s face darkened. She red at Raymond, but said nothing.

    No matter how unhappy she was, Hilda knew he was right. Compared to Raymond, she hardly knew her daughter at all.

    The tension between them grew, the silence thickening.

    Atst, Raymond spoke in a low voice. "Hilda, if Citrine epts you and wants to go back to the Saunders family, I''ll respect her decision. But if she doesn''t, neither

    of us has the right to force her. She''s

    her own person now."

    He paused, then let out a coldugh. "You call yourself her mother, but you don''t

    know her at all. Do you really think you deserve that title?"

    Each word hit Hilda like a de, cutting deep into her heart.

    The Saunders family had been a pir of Grestwood for generations, and under Hilda''s leadership, G Corp had never been stronger. In all these years, no one had ever dared speak to her like this.

    "Raymond, do you really think I''d let the Carmichael family get away with this?"

    Hilda''s eyes shed coldly, anger creeping in.

    Raymond sneered. "What''s the matter? Struck a nerve?"

    He stared at her, his voice suddenly icy. "Hilda, you have no right to feel

    wronged."

    "I don''t care how Citrine was lost in the first ce. But don''t forget-because of

    your negligence, she spent over a decade in misery. That''s on you."

 Chapter 464

    Hilda stared wide-eyed at Raymond, her gaze fixed and unblinking. Before she could even process what he''d said, Raymond continued, "Hilda, you don''t actually believe Citrine lived a privileged, carefree life all these years as the Iversons'' adopted daughter, do you?"

    A heavy weight dropped in Hilda''s chest.

    Wasn''t that the case?

    But hearing Raymond''s words now, a terrifying suspicion crept into her mind-one she didn''t dare pursue.

    Raymond watched her reaction and let out a cold, bitterugh. "Citrine''s life with the Iversons was a living hell. Every single day under their roof was torture for her."

    "You probably don''t know this, but when she was eleven, the Iversons sent her away to Mirage Cay."

    Just mentioning it made Raymond''s heart ache unbearably. The memory of the dream where he''d seen his daughter''s suffering unspeakable cruelty-made him want to tear the whole world apart.

    Hilda''s eyes flew open, a chill instantly dulling their light. She stared at Raymond in shock. "The Iversons... sent Citrine to Mirage Cay?" Her voice trembled so much she could barely get the words out.

    "How could those monsters do that?" she demanded, her voice low and shaking, eyes turning red with fury.

    She knew exactly what kind of ce Mirage Cay was. No one ever came back from there. Years ago, there were reports-leaked videos of people being snatched away by the ind''s inhabitants. One news story had shown a victim who''d been mutted beyond recognition, their body reduced to little more than a head. The images had been so gruesome that Hilda still remembered them to this day.

    When Raymond had first learned that Citrine had been sent there, he nearly broke down. Now, looking at Hilda, he went on, "When Sawyer first adopted Citrine, he treated her well, but everything changed a yearter when he brought home another woman and a child. Suddenly Citrine became invisible-med for things she didn''t do, denied even a simple meal. Yet through it all, she still hoped Sawyer would care for her. She held on, until the day she lost hopepletely."

    "Sawyer taught Citrine never to trust in family again. He shattered any belief she had that love coulde from blood."

    How dare they.

    "If anyoneys a finger on my daughter, the Iversons deserve to rot," Hilda snarled through clenched teeth, eyes zing with unshed tears.

    As soon as the words left her lips, her strength vanished.

    "This is my fault. If I''d protected Citrine, she wouldn''t have suffered at the versons'' hands. She never Wave been sent to Mirage

    Cay. She''d be happy now. Safe."

    Up until this visit, Hilda had resented the Carmichaels, convinced they''d

    mistreated her daughter. Only now did she understand how much Raymond truly loved Citrine.

    He knew her. He worried for her.

    And Hilda¡ªshe''d known nothing. She didn''t deserve to call herself a mother.

    "Raymond... thank you for telling me this."

    Ashamed, Hilda realized she couldn''t stay a moment longer.

    She all but fled.

    After leaving the Carmichael estate,

    Hilda Straight to C. Corp. Once

    there, she ordered her assistant to investigate everything aboutcher daughter''s past-and about Mirage Cay.

    Vernon was nothing if not efficient; by the end of the day, he''d gathered every

    record he could find regarding Citrine.

    That night, Hilda stayed up until dawn, reading through every single report Vernon had uncovered.

    Everything matched what Raymond had told her, word for word.

    Rubbing her temples, Hilda felt crushing guilt.

    Ever since she''d found her daughter, she''d been selfish-focused only on getting close to Citrine, on making her ept her. She''d never once thought to ask what kind of life Citrine had endured, what she''d been through.

    She wasn''t a good mother. Not even close.

 Chapter 465

    Hilda had sent Vernon to investigate Mirage Cay, but he came back empty- handed.

    She didn''t dare dwell on how her daughter had managed to survive that ind-a ce that chewed people up and spat them out.

    For days now, Hilda hadn''t slept. The moment she closed her eyes, her mind conjured up images of Citrine struggling to survive on Mirage Cay. Sometimes, she even thought she could hear her daughter''s desperate, helpless cries for help.

    Saunders Manor.

    That afternoon, Monica Wade and her brother dropped by the old family home to visit Inez and Herschel. The four of them sat down to dinner together.

    Nathalie, knowing the siblings wereing, had gone out of her way to prepare several extra dishes each one a favorite of theirs.

    Wade was shoveling food onto his fork, pausing only to exim, "Nathalie, this roast chicken is incredible! Honestly, it''s like you read my mind and made exactly what I wanted."

    Nothing made Nathalie happier than having her cooking praised.

    Her grin stretched from ear to ear as she replied, "Young master, yourpliments are too sweet."

    Just then, Inez Saunders spoke up, "Nathalie, I heard you visited Hilda''s new ce the other day. How''s she doingtely?"

    It had been over a month since Hildast came home, and Inez was missing her daughter terribly.

    Herschel looked at Nathalie as well. ¡°That''s right. Is Hilda eating well? Sleeping alright? She''s not staying up toote, is she?"

    The Saunders were famous in their circle for doting on Hilda-no one worried about her more.

    Nathalie smiled, trying to reassure them. "Don''t worry, she''s doing great. She spent the whole day cooking with me, and she was in excellent spirits."

    Inez stared in disbelief. ¡°Cooking? Hilda? That girl always hated getting anywhere near the stove!"

    Her reaction was echoed by Herschel and the Wade siblings. All four paused mid- bite, forks hovering over their tes.

    Herschel frowned. "Did she actually cook something edible?"

    Monica shook her head. ¡°I never thought I''d see the day Aunt Hilda set foot in a kitchen." She tried to imagine those hands, usually sofortable holding a riding crop, now wielding a kitchen knife.

    Wade muttered, "Has Aunt Hilda lost her mind?" The thought of her cooking just didn''t add up.

    Nathalie couldn''t help butugh at their stunned faces.

    Honestly, she''d been just as surprised at first.

    "She waspletely serious about

    it," Nathalie said, still chuckling. "She followed every step, asked

    questions, and if a dish wasn''t perfect she''d start over from

    scratch. I''ve never seen her so determined-she even burned her hand and wouldn''t quit."

    Inez and Herschel sprang to their feet, voices tight with worry. "She burned herself? Was it bad?"

    The two of them were hopeless when it came to their daughter. Nathalie hurried to calm them down. "It wasn''t serious, I promise. She''s fine."

    Reassured, they finally sat back down.

    Inez pursed her lips, confused. "Why would Hilda go to all that trouble? If she wants anything, all she has to do is ask and we''ll send it over. Her hands are too delicate for kitchen work."

    Herschel hesitated, then asked again, ¡°No, really, did anything she made actually taste good?"

    Nathalie privately doubted it, but she just nced at Herschel and kept her thoughts to herself.

    She turned to Inez, remembering

    something Hilda had said that day. After a brief pause, she decided to

    share it. ¡°Ma''am, that day Miss Hilda said she wanted her daughter to

    taste a meal she''d cooked herself."

    Nathalie hesitated, then couldn''t keep from asking, ¡°Sir, Ma''am, has Miss Hilda... adopted a child?"

 Chapter 466

    Herschel and Inez exchanged a look, their faces growing solemn. With measured words, Herschel said, "Hilda made it clear-she only wants Citrine. She''s not interested in adopting anyone else."

    The thought of their missing granddaughter weighed heavily on both of them, casting a shadow over the room.

    Herschel hesitated, turning to Inez in disbelief. "Could it be... have they found her?"

    Inez shook her head. "No way. We''ve searched for years and never found a single trace."

    At that moment, Monica, who had been sitting quietly nearby, finally looked up. "It''s true," she said. "Citrine has been found."

    Her words hung in the air.

    "Just recently, Aunt Hilda and I met with her."

    Monica hadn''t expected her aunt to make a move so quickly-let alone sneak behind her and her sister''s backs to spend time with Citrine alone. Remembering Hilda''s sudden decision to move, Monica suddenly understood everything.

    Inez''s eyes reddened, disbelief etched across her face. "Are you telling the truth? Did you really find Citrine?"

    Herschel, still clinging to a sliver of caution after all the disappointments over the years, asked quietly, "Did you do a DNA test?"

    Monica shook her head. "No. Citrine is very guarded. She refused, and she doesn''t want anything to do with us. She won''t even acknowledge any connection."

    "But even if she won''t admit it, we''re sure it''s her. She looks almost exactly like Aunt Hilda did when she was young. There''s no way we''re mistaken."

    Inez''s tears spilled over, her voice trembling with emotion. "As long as she''s been found, that''s all that matters."

    The loss of their granddaughter had been an open wound in the family for years. Even her name had be a taboo, never spoken aloud.

    Herschel asked, "If she''s been found, can we see Citrine?"

    Monica didn''t hesitate. "That''s not possible. Citrine is still on her guard-even with Aunt Hilda, she keeps her distance. If you rush to meet her now, it''ll only push her further away."

    Inez nodded quickly. "You''re right. I wasn''t thinking. We can''t risk frightening her."

    Only Wade sat apart, his face stony and expressionless. He snorted under his breath, thinking, No matter how much she looks like Citrine, she can''tpare to the girl I met online during thatst Titan Showdown

    match. That was my real

    sister.

    As for the one Aunt Hilda found? Most likely a fake.

    Wade was already nning how to expose the imposter for what she was.

    After they left the old house, Wade stuck his hands in his pockets and said to Monica, "I don''t know who you people dragged home, but I guarantee she''s not my sister."

    Monica rolled her eyes. "And what makes you so sure?"

    Wade smirked. "Because I already found the real Citrine. The one you found? She''s not her."

    Monica couldn''t even be bothered to argue. She just shook her head and walked away.

    After leaving the old house, Monica decided not to go back to the office. Instead, she headed straight for Hilda''s new ce.

    It was just after work, and Hilda was at home, sorting through paperwork. When she beard the knock at the

    door, she looked up in surprise et

    She''d only just moved in and didn''t know anyone in the neighborhood. At this hour, the only person she could imagine dropping by was Citrine.

    Smiling, Hilda hurried to open the door-only to find herself face to face with a very familiar face.

    Her smile froze, the warmth draining from her expression.

    "What are you doing here?" Hilda''s voice returned to its usual cool, reserved tone.

    "Aunt Hilda, are you disappointed to see me?" Monica caught the flicker of disappointment in her aunt''s eyes and felt a chill run down her spine.

    Just remembering that brief moment-Aunt Hilda''s face lighting up with a smile¡ª made Monica shudder.

    It was... unnerving.

    Aunt Hilda had actually smiled.

 Chapter 467

    When Monica appeared at the door, Hilda''s expression soured. Her tone was clipped, impatient. "If you have something to say, spit it out and go."

    Monica offered a bright, ingratiating smile and nodded toward the stairs. "Auntie, Citrine''s upstairs, isn''t she?"

    She hesitated, then ventured, "Do you think... maybe I could move in with you?" With her aunt living so close to Citrine, Monica was desperate for a chance to get closer to her little sister. Growing up as the only girl in the family, she''d always dreamed of having a sister; now, just imagining Citrine calling her ''big sis'' made her heart swell with happiness.

    So that''s her game, Hilda thought, letting out a cold snort. "Don''t even think about it," she shot back without hesitation.

    Her own daughter still hadn''te around to epting her. Everyone else would have to get in line.

    But Monica was persistent. "Auntie, please..."

    Hilda''s lips curved in a sly smile. "There''s a project in Kenya. If you''re interested

    Monica caught on instantly, her face draining of color. She forced augh, quickly cutting Hilda off. "Auntie, I was just kidding! Really, I''ll get going now. Right now." That was close-she''d nearly been shipped off to Africa.

    Hilda just smiled faintly. "Go on, then."

    Seeing her aunt wasn''t going to pursue the matter, Monica wasted no time making her exit, relief washing over her as she hurried away.

    A few dayster, Monica heard from a friend about what had happened at the Opulence Ball in Crestwood''s high society. Citrine had not only revealed her true identity, but also announced several new business partnerships-none of which included C. Corp.

    So, determined, Monica showed up at CICI Group as a representative of C. Corp. Officially, it was to discuss a potential partnership in pharmaceutical cosmetics, but in reality, she was just hoping to see her sister.

    If her aunt wouldn''t help her, she''d have to create her own opportunities.

    As luck would have it, Citrine was at the office that day. When Carlotta informed her that someone from C. Corp had arrived, Citrine only hesitated for a moment before instructing her to let them in.

    The moment Monica saw her sister, her eyes lit up. "Citrine!"

    "President Saunders," Citrine replied coolly, her tone still tinged with distance.

    She gestured politely to the chairs. "I hear you''d like to discuss a business proposal. Please, have a seat."

    Monica didn''t mind the formality. She settled onto the sofa, all smiles. "I heard from some friends that at the Opulence Ball, you signed contracts with a number of

    vel

    Last time, Citrine had chosen so manypanies-her friends'' businesses

    among them-but not C. Corp. Monica had been green with envy ever since she heard the news.

    Citrine smiled. "Of course."

    The Saunders family was actually the best possible partner for her. She''d hesitated before, not because they weren''t worthy, but because of all the tangled history between her and the Saunders. She''d worried those ties mightplicate things. That''s why she''d left C. Corp out of the first round of contracts.

    But now that C. Corp hade knocking? She''d be a fool to turn them away.

    She called Carlotta, asking her to print a copy of the contract and bring it over.

    After hanging up, Monica leaned forward. "Citrine, I heard you''re starting up something called Blood Rain."

    Citrine nodded, unsurprised that Monica was in the loop.

    From the moment she''d stepped into the spotlight and revealed her identity Citrine had never nned to keep Blood Rain a secret. In fact, she wanted all of Crestwood to know about it.

    "That''s incredible," Monica said, eyes shining with admiration.

    No wonder she was her little sister-smart, ambitious, daring enough to chase her dreams.

    Monica knew just how hard it was to pull together a business alliance; in all of Crestwood, only the chair of Steris Group had ever managed it before.

 Chapter 468

    Even back in the day, not even the Glenwood family had managed to pull off a business alliance. That''s why they ended up creating the ck Network instead.

    Citrine smiled. "Thanks for thepliment."

    She knew just how tough it was to build something like a business alliance, and she was well aware that most people doubted her. So, hearing Monica''s praise now, Citrine couldn''t help but feel a bit warmer toward her.

    Then Monica suddenly asked, "Can C. Corp join Blood Rain?"

    Citrine was caught off guard. "You... you want C. Corp to join?"

    There was a hint of skepticism in her voice as she exined, "You might not realize what joining Blood Rain actually means. In short, it requires yourpany to operate under CICI Group-you''d have to take my lead from now on."

    "The Saunders family is powerful, wealthy, and has been established for over a century. Are you really willing to ept that?"

    "Of course I am," Monica replied with a sudden, genuine smile.

    All that talk about power and family legacy meant nothing right now. For the Saunders family, the most important thing these years had been finding her little sister.

    Letting thepany work for her sister? That was nothing. If Citrine wanted C. Corp, the entire Saunders family would hand it over without hesitation.

    Citrine stared at Monica in disbelief, though inside, she was delighted.

    When she''d first considered candidates for Blood Rain, Citrine had purposely avoidedrge corporations. Their CEOs rarely wanted to answer to anyone else, making them difficult to manage. Instead, she''d chosen a few solid mid-sizedpanies and some promising smaller ones, hoping to help them grow into major yers.

    Among the bigpanies, the Saunders family stood out for keeping their business rtively clean. Citrine had looked into them early on, and she''d always been impressed with C. Corp.

    If C. Corp really did want to join Blood Rain, it would only make the alliance stronger. This was an unexpected bonus.

    Citrine said, "Everypany that joins Blood Rain gets a one percent profit share, and from now on, you''ll have priority ess to any of our products or coborations."

    She looked Monica in the eye. "Trust me, I''ll make sure you never get the short end of the stick."

    Monica grinned. "I believe you." I

    if they did, she didn''t care. All sho cared was being there for her

    sister and supporting her in any way she could.

    Without wasting a moment, Citrine instructed Carlotta to draw up the contract and bring it over.

    Monica didn''t even nce at the paperwork-she signed straight away.

    Her decisiveness left both Citrine and Carlotta speechless.

    Citrine couldn''t help but ask, "Aren''t you worried I might take advantage of you?"

    Monica didn''t hesitate. "Not at all. Even if you did, we''d be fine with it."

    Worried her sister would get the

    velget

    wrong idea, Monica quickly added, "What mean is, I trust your character, Citrine. I

    do that." Content belong you''d never

    After the contract was signed, Monica lingered, reluctant to leave. She looked at her sister expectantly. ne, could you give me a tour of yourpany?"

    Citrine nced at the clock, a regretful look crossing her face. "Sorry, I have a ss at three thirty. I need to get to campus."

    "Oh, I see. That''s alright," Monica replied, unable to hide her disappointment.

    Citrine bit her lip, then nced at Carlotta. "I''ll have Carlotta show you around, okay?"

    So, she wouldn''t get to spend time with her sister after all.

    Monica felt a little let down, but she still smiled and agreed.

    After all, getting to see even a part of her sister''s world was worth it.

 Chapter 469

    After Citrine left, Monica''s expression visibly fell; the easy warmth she''d shown vanished, reced by her familiar, businesslikeposure. It was as if she''d be apletely different person from the one Citrine had drawn out just moments before.

    Carlotta nced over politely. "President Saunders, if you''d like, I can give you a tour of ourpany."

    With that, Carlotta moved ahead to lead the way.

    Monica followed at a steady, unhurried pace.

    CICI Group''s offices sprawled impressively, yet the atmosphere was surprisingly inviting. Friendly signage and encouraging reminders dotted the halls, lending the ce a sense of warmth and care.

    As they passed the staff recreation lounge, Monica paused, caught off guard. Inside, a group of employees loungedfortably, chatting andughing over cups of tea, the scene rxed and cheerful.

    She turned to Carlotta, curiosity piqued. "Aren''t they supposed to be working?"

    Carlotta smiled, a hint of pride in her tone. "It''s break time right now. Our Chairwoman believes that since our work is mentally demanding, it''s important to bnce effort and rest. From three-thirty to four, everyone gets a half-hour to recharge."

    Monica blinked in surprise. She''d never seen such a considerate approach from

    an executive before-especially not from her own sister.

    "Doesn''t that impact productivity?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

    Carlotta seemed to have anticipated the question. "Not at all. Our staff are incredibly efficient and self-disciplined. If anyone ever falls behind, they''ll make up the work-even if it means stayingte without the break."

    Monica had spent years at C. Corp, where the prevailing philosophy was that employees needed constant supervision and pressure. The idea of such self- motivation was foreign to her experience; she''d never seen it work in practice.

    Noticing Monica''s silence, Carlotta chuckled. "I knew you''d be skeptical."

    "Come with me."

    She led Monica to a bulletin board near the entrance.

    "I doubt you realize just how much respect our Chairwomanmands around here. Take a look at this-you''ll start to understand why everyone is so invested." Monica looked, still unsure.

    At first, the notices seemed standard-office hours, clock-in procedures, the usual corporate fare. But then she noticed another page, and her eyes widened as she read.

    1. Employees facing major illness in their families, without medical insurance, may apply for a monthly subsidy from thepany.

    2. Employees'' family members in critical condition are entitled to hospital admission at partnered clinics, with all hospital and surgery costs fully covered.

    3. Staff with financial difficulties or family care responsibilities can request additional support, or opt for paid overtime to supplement their ie.

    4. If an employee or their loved one requires hospitalization, or the employee is ill themselves, paid medical leave is granted with a doctor''s note from an redited hospital.

    Each policy was designed with the employees'' well-being in mind¡ªaddressing every hardship, offering real help.

    Even Monica, who prided herself on C. Corp''s generous benefits and bigh sries, was floored. Compared to CICI Group, herpany''s perks suddenly seemed paltry, almost perfunctory.

    Carlotta spoke softly, her voice full of gratitude. "Meeting our Chairwoman changed everything for us."

    "Before I worked here, my life was a mess. Every morning, I dreaded facing my old boss''s advances, not to mention the endless overtime. I was so drained, I could barely care formy sick brother."

    "But once I joined CICI Group, the Chairwoman not only taught me so much, she

    paid me fairly¡ªand even covered all my brother''s medical bills."

    Carlotta''s words lingered in the air, a silent testament to the difference true leadership can make.

 Chapter 470

    "She''s not just my boss anymore. She''s my guiding light."

    "And it''s not just me. There are so many people at ourpany who were struggling to get by, until we met the CEO. She changed our lives for the better."

    "That''s why everyone''s willing to go the extra mile for her-even risk everything- and no one everins."

    These days, it feels like ny percent of business owners would work their employees to the bone if they could. The moment they spot someone taking a breather, they act as if they''re losing a fortune. Asking for time off? You might as well try moving a mountain.

    With the way things have been goingtely, it''s only gotten worse.

    So, having a boss like Citrine? Everyone knows how lucky they are. And they''re grateful.

    Monica listened quietly as Carlotta finished. She pressed her lips together and said, "Citrine''s a good person."

    Who''d have thought there was such a kind heart behind that distant expression?

    Monica felt a rush of emotion.

    It was as if she suddenly understood her sister on a whole new level, and the realization filled her with delight.

    Saturday morning, Travis arrived at Crestwood with Sylvan Carney, Springer, and a few others.

    Citrine had barely woken up when they arrived-Travis and the others had roused her out of bed, insisting she join them for a day at the racetrack.

    Even as she climbed into Travis''s car, Citrine was still half-asleep.

    Travis nced at his sleepy sister, guilt and affection written all over his face. "It''s my fault for showing up so early. Poor Citrine didn''t even get a chance to rest.¡±

    Citrine forced herself to smile through her drowsiness. "It''s fine, big brother. I can catch a few winks in the car and I''ll be good as new."

    With that, she leaned back in the rear seat, closed her eyes, and drifted off.

    She didn''t wake until they pulled into the North Steed Summit Circuit-a sprawling raceway, famous in Crestwood for hosting major professional events.

    Once they''d arrived, everyone pulled out their beloved cars, ready to roll.

    Sylvan raised an eyebrow, shing a challenging grin. "Travis, how about it? Up for a race?"

    Travis''s

    it. He didn''t even

    it course were practically the floor with you.get

    "Of wipe

    Get ready, I''m about to

    the floor with you."

    No sooner had Travis finished speaking than Citrine heard a burst of angry shouting nearby.

    "Wade, you jerk! Lost the bet and you still won''t admit it?"

    "You''re a Saunders, for crying out loud. Lose to me and you can''t even own up to it-don''t you find that embarrassing?"

    Citrine and the others turned toward themotion.

    She was surprised to see the two groups facing off.

    Travis let out a cold snort, his irritation clear. "Isn''t that the lunatic from the Titan Showdown-and Citrine''s old rival?"

    He shook his head, clearly annoyed. "Just our luck. Enemies everywhere."

    From a distance, Wade looked a mess-scrapes all over his face and body, his clothes torn and bloodied. He was being supported on either side, clearly worse for wear

    Across from him stood Quentin, perfectly put-together in his

    suit, not a scratch to be see racimet

    even a single hair out of

    Side by side, Wade looked downright pitiful.

    Quentin smirked, his tone dripping with mockery. "What''s wrong, Mr. Saunders? Afraid to admit defeat?"

    As soon as Quentin finished, his friends started jeering at Wade.

    "Come on, get down and bow to Mr. Aldridge."

    "That''s right, Mr. Saunders. You wouldn''t want everyone in the scene to know you

    can''t handle losing, would you?"

    "If you''re beaten, admit it. You lost to Mr. Aldridge-deal with it."

 Chapter 471

    Quentin stood in the center of his crew, basking in their admiration with a smug grin stered across his face.

    On the other side, Wade''s friends clenched their fists, ring daggers at Quentin''s group. One of them spat out angrily, "Hell, if our car hadn''t broken down, there''s no way Wade would''ve lost to you."

    Curry ck scoffed, his tone dripping with mockery. "Mr. Aldridge seems to have forgotten just how badly he lost to usst time."

    Quentin shot him a sharp re, then turned his attention to Wade, whose face was set in stone. Seeing Wade''s grim expression, Quentin let out a coldugh. "A loss is a loss. No need for excuses-don''t make me lose what little respect I have

    for you."

    He shed a wicked grin. "A deal''s a deal. You lost, now get on your knees and call me ''Daddy.""

    Wade hung his head, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared at Quentin with gritted teeth, his voice rough. "Fine. I''ll kneel."

    He''d always been the kind of man who could take a loss.

    But as Wade started to kneel, Curry''s expression shifted and he rushed forward to stop him. "Wade, don''t."

    Wade''s eyes were calm but determined. "I made a bet, and I''ll honor it. I''m not a sore loser."

    Watching this, Citrine felt a strange, ufortable ache twist in her chest- something she couldn''t quite name.

    Just as Wade was about to kneel before Quentin, Citrine''s eyes flickered. She strode forward, her voice clear and even. "Mind if I take a look at your car?"

    Wade''s head snapped up. Seeing Citrine, a sh of joy lit up his face, but it vanished just as quickly, reced by a look of shame. Whatever he''d been about to say died on his lips, and he turned away sharply. "Don''t look at me," he muttered, his voice tinged with desperation.

    He quickly shielded his face with his hands and pushed himself off the ground. In just a few seconds, his world had turned upside down.

    God, he''d never imagined his little sister would see him like thispletely humiliated. How was he supposed to face her after this? His image as her big brother was ruined.

    Citrine, unfazed, acted as if she hadn''t heard him.

    She repeated her question, patience unwavering. "I heard someone tampered with your car. Where is it now?"

    Wade didn''t understand why his sister was asking, but still, face half-covered, he nodded toward the parking lot. "Over there."

    Curry gave Citrine a polite nod, then pointed to one of the battered cars behind him. "It''s the silver one."

    Citrine nced at the mangled silver racecar, then started walking toward it-only to be stopped by Quentin''s angry voice.

    "Hey! Where do you think you''re going? This has nothing to do with you!" Quentin barked, eyes narrowed.

    Citrine just lifted her chin and shot him a cool, dismissive smile. "Mind your own damn business."

    Without another word, she continued toward the wrecked silver car.

    Travis and a few others hurried after her. Travis shot Quentin a frosty re before falling in step with his sister He didn''t know what she was up to, but whatever it was, he''d back her up.

    Citrine crouched down to inspect beneath the car, studying it closely. Then, to everyone''s shock, she opened the door and slid into the driver''s seat.

    The car was a wreck¡ªdangerous,

    barely held together. Seeing her

    inside, Travis felt his heart leap into

    his throat, his face going pale "Citrine, get out of there! It''s not safe!"

    At the same time, Wade rushed over, not even bothering to hide his face anymore, and knocked urgently on the window. "Sis, get out! It''s not safe in there!"

    Citrine just shot them a reassuring look. "Rx, it''ll be fine," she said, then turned the key in the ignition.

    In an instant, the car roared to life and shot down the track.

    Quentin watched, scowling. "What the hell is wrong with that crazy woman? Is she trying to get herself killed?"

 Chapter 472

    Everyone''s nerves were stretched taut, hearts pounding in their chests.

    But less than five minutester, Citrine brought the car to a stop.

    She stepped out slowly, her face grave as she turned to Wade. "Someone''s tampered with your car. The brake pads are worn down. If you''d driven just a few more miles today, you might not have walked away."

    Wade''s eyes were fixed on his sister, unable to process anything else. Citrine''s warning barely registered.

    It was Curry, standing nearby, who tugged his sleeve and snapped him out of it. Only then did the seriousness of the situation dawn on Wade, his expression growing dark.

    He thought for a moment, then tried to exin, "But my car was just assembled by a professional team. Every part is brand new-top of the line. This is my first time driving it; how could the brake pads already be worn out?" He looked at his sister, his tone earnest.

    Citrine''s reply was cool and direct. "They were swapped out."

    As she finished, her gaze lingered thoughtfully on Quentin and his crew. "The wear is just enough to make you lose the race, but not enough to get you killed."

    At her words, a few of Quentin''s friends immediately stepped forward, voices raised in agitation.

    "What nonsense! What would you know about cars?"

    "You say they''re worn, so they''re worn? Where''s your proof?"

    "Mind your own business-this is between Mr. Aldridge and Mr. Saunders. Who asked for your opinion?"

    Citrine simply watched them, saying nothing, waiting until they had finished their outburst. Then a faint, mocking smile curled her lips. "Why so defensive? Someone might think you were the ones who switched the brakes."

    Wade and Curry exchanged nces, noticing the shift in Quentin''s crew''s demeanor.

    Even Quentin caught on. He scanned the group, eyes suddenly icy. "Was it you?" They pressed their lips together, shaking their heads in unison. ¡°No, it wasn''t us." "Quentin, we''d never do something like that to you."

    "Yeah, don''t listen to them."

    Ignoring the protests, Citrine turned to Wade. "Check the security footage."

    Wade didn''t hesitate he nodded immediately.

    At once, panic flickered across the faces of Quentin''sckeys.

    "No way!" they blurted out in unison.

    That was at Quentin needed to hear. Realization and anger crashed over him, and he let out a sharp, incredulousugh. Grabbing one of his men by the cor, he snarled, "Was it you?"

    With the truth about toe out anyway, the group finally caved.

    "It was me, Quentin," one admitted. "I''m sorry. We just wanted you to win."

    "Yeah, Wade''s beaten you so many times. We couldn''t take it anymore."

    Quentin was livid, almostughing from sheer disbelief. "Do you really think I needed you to cheat for me?"

    Utterly humiliating.

    He turned to Wade, trying to salvage some dignity. "This one doesn''t count. Next time, we''ll have a fair race."

    Wade ignored him. If his sister

    hadn''t

    tervened today, he might et

    have been

    the

    forced to admit defeet

    in

    most humiliating way.

    He red at Quentin''s crew, voice cold and sharp. "You''re all a bunch of cowards.

    Just wait-you''ll pay for this."

    Quentin, knowing he''d lost all

    credibility, fell silent. Even if he hadn''t given the order, it was still his people, and the whole thing left a sour taste in his mouth.

    He had no face left to stay any longer. With a final look at the group, he gathered

    his friends and left.

    Now, only Citrine, Wade, and a few others remained on the track.

 Chapter 473

    At this moment, Wade hadpletely forgotten his earlier embarrassment.

    Looking earnestly at Citrine, he said, "Sis, thank you. Seriously, if it weren''t for you, I''d be finished today."

    Thank goodness for his sister. If she hadn''t stepped in, by tomorrow everyone in Crestwood would be talking about how he''d knelt and called Quentin his ¡°dad.¡± He''d be the butt of every joke in town.

    Citrine just smiled. "No need to thank me. It was nothing, really. Besides, I can''t stand Quentin either."

    She might have helped Wade out of a tight spot, but that didn''t mean she wanted to get any closer to him.

    As soon as she finished speaking, Citrine tugged at Travis''s sleeve, ready to leave.

    But Wade suddenly panicked. He jumped in front of her, arms spread wide to block her path. "Sis, can I get your number?"

    He stared at Citrine, determined not to give up. With a resigned sigh, Citrine pulled up her messenger app and showed him her contact code.

    Once they''d exchanged numbers, Citrine and Travis finally walked away.

    As soon as they were out of earshot, Travis couldn''t hold back any longer. "Citrine, why''d you help him?"

    Just hearing Wade call her "sis" over and over made Travis want to punch the guy in the face.

    He honestly couldn''t understand why his sister would bother.

    Citrine dropped her gaze and pressed her lips together, thinking for a moment. Then she smiled and said, "Honestly? I''m not even sure myself."

    She hesitated, then added, "I guess I just didn''t want to see him humiliate himself like that."

    She helped him simply because she didn''t want to see it happen. Even Citrine couldn''t exin it.

    Sensing something different about the way his sister treated Wade, Travis fell silent, a wave of jealousy washing over him.

    He bit his lip and asked, his tone tinged with envy, "Citrine, do you really like this Wade guy that much?"

    Right then, Travis lookedpletely deted, and Citrine couldn''t help but find him a little ridiculous.

    What an idiot.

    She looked at him and said seriously, "You''ll always be my favorite brother. That''ll never change."

    Favorite. Turns out he was still the most important person in his sister''s heart.

    Travis, who''d been sulking over Citrine''s concern for Wade, instantly felt reassured by her words.

    "Hmph, I knew it. I''m your favorite. That Wade guy can''t hold a candle to me."

    Citrine nodded in agreement. "Of course."

    Just a few simple words and Travis''s mood hadpletely turned around.

    Sylvan and the others, trailing behind the siblings, were hardly surprised by the

    scene.

    They''d gotten used to Travis''s

    overprotectiveness long ago. A

    point, t there was probably no saving him.

    All the way home from North Steed Summit Circuit, Wade clung to his phone, grinning from ear to ear.

    When Monica arrived home and saw

    the goofy look on his face, she

    l.ne

    raya Did you win the race

    raised an eyebrow. "What''s got you

    So

    again?"

    "Nope, lost," Wade replied, eyes glued to his screen, barely ncing at Monica.

    "You lost?" Monica blinked, suspicious. ¡°And you''re still this happy? Are you out of your mind?"

    Wade rolled his eyes dramatically. "You''re the one who''s out of your mind."

    With that, he turned over on the couch, pointedly ignoring her.

    Monica frowned, puzzled by her brother''s unusual cheerfulness.

    Curious, she tiptoed behind him to see what he was up to.

    Peeking over his shoulder, she spotted Wade typing away in a

    messaging a girl. The contact cheet

    he''d saved for her was "Sweetie."

    Monica pped a hand over her mouth in disbelief.

    Sweetie? Was her little brother actually dating someone?

    Before she could process the revtion, she watched as Wade sent a message.

    Wade: "Thanks for helping me today. Are you free tomorrow?"

 Chapter 474

    Sweetie: "Nope."

    Wade: "Aw, that''s too bad. What about the day after tomorrow?"

    Sweetie: "Still no."

    Wade: "Come on, when are you free? [crying emoji]"

    Sweetie: "Probably never."

    Monica watched their chat back and forth, and couldn''t hold back a snort ofughter.

    Wade nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound behind him. His phone almost slipped from his hand as he shot upright from the couch, ring at Monica in annoyance. "What''s your deal?"

    Monica grinned, her expression pure mischief. "Wow, Wade, I never realized you could be so desperate."

    She leaned forward, eyes twinkling. "Come on, spill it. When did you get a girlfriend?"

    Wade had never been so exasperated in his life. He shot Monica a murderous re. "What girlfriend? That''s our little sister I''m texting."

    A while back, Wade had been going on about how he''d finally found his long-lost sister. Remembering that, Monica raised an eyebrow. "You don''t mean the girl you mentioned before, do you?"

    Wade nodded eagerly. "Exactly."

    At the mention of his sister, he got so excited he could barely sit still. "You have no idea how amazing she is. My car broke down halfway through the race today and I was about to get crushed by thepetition. Then, out of nowhere, she swooped in like a guardian angel. If it hadn''t been for her, I''d have been totally humiliated."

    Monica listened to Wade''s rambling and finally burst outughing in exasperation. "Wade, are you looking to get yourself in trouble? I already told you, we found our real sister ages ago. For all you know, that girl you''ve been talking to could be a scammer."

    She gave him a pointed look. "And I''m warning you-if Aunt Hilda finds out you''re pulling this stunt, don''t me me when you get kicked out of the family."

    Everyone knew how much Aunt Hilda adored their real sister. If she found out Wade was so bent on finding an impostor, he''d be in serious trouble.

    Wade rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. The one you all found is probably the fake."

    Seeing Monica''s skepticism, Wade lost interest in arguing and stomped off to his room, phone in hand.

    He hadn''t managed to set up a meeting, but from her photos and posts, Wade figured out that his "sister" was a student at Crestwood University.

    A few dayster, Wade dragged Curry along for a trip to Crestwood.

    On Fridays, most sses were done by noon, so students were scattered across the campus-reading on benches, ying frisbee, lounging on the grass.

    Wade and Curry wandered leisurely through the campus.

    Curry couldn''t help sighing. "Man, I haven''t felt this rxed since I graduated. I miss the college days."

    Wade shot him a look of pure disdain. "Oh please. If you actually had to go back to college, you''d be miserable."

    He was about to say more when something caught his eye, and his whole face lit up.

    "There she is," he murmured.

    Not far off Citrine stood talking to a guy, deep in conversation. Wade started toward them, but suddenly felt someone grab his arm, holding him back.

    Assuming it was Curry, Wade snapped, "Curry, are you trying to get on myst nerve?"

    He shook himself loose and strode forward.

    That''s when someone yanked him sharply by the ear.

    Wade finally realized something was seriously wrong.

    He spun around.

    Curry stood awkwardly off to the side, giving him a look of pure sympathy.

    Wade''s face fell as he turned to see who was in front of him. "Aunt Hilda."

    He went pale as a sheet.

    Hilda gave him a cold smile, still holding his ear in a vise grip. "Get in the car," she said, not even trying to hide her amusement.

 Chapter 475

    In the car, Wade sat up straight, knees together and hands neatly resting on his legs a far cry from his usual slouch and careless attitude.

    He hadn''t expected to run into Hilda at Crestwood University. With a nervous nce, he ventured, "Aunt Hilda, what are you doing here?"

    But Hilda''s attention was entirely fixed on Citrine, who stood outside the car a short distance away. She acted as if she hadn''t even heard Wade.

    The silence made Wade''s heart race. He braced himself, half-expecting a lecture.

    He started mentally reviewing his recent behavior, trying to remember if he''d done anything wrong in the past couple of days. But then, catching sight of his sister in the distance, he snapped back to the present-he had something far more important to say.

    "Aunt Hilda, I found my sister!" Wade blurted out, excitement breaking through his

    nerves.

    Still, Hilda didn''t respond.

    Wade pointed eagerly through the window. "There-look! That''s her!"

    Hilda shot him a withering nce, as if he were an idiot. "Obviously," she said, then turned her gaze away.

    Not a trace of surprise or shock crossed her face.

    A realization dawned on Wade. "Aunt Hilda, the girl you and Monica found... You mean that''s her? My actual sister?"

    Hilda gave him an exasperated look. "What else would you expect?"

    Wade pressed his lips together, falling silent.

    Remembering how he''d secretly cursed his "imposter" of a sister earlier, Wade buried his face in his hands, wishing he could p some sense into himself.

    He noticed Hilda still staring at Citrine, her gaze unwavering. Curiosity got the better of him. "Aunt Hilda, who''s that guy with her?"

    Hilda''sugh was cold, almost chilling. "Just someone with no sense of self- preservation."

    Her voice was low and unsettling, making Wade shudder reflexively. At home, whenever Aunt Hilda wore that expression, it usually meant someone was in serious trouble.

    Outside, Citrine and Sawyer stood facing each other, a small space separating them.

    It had been over six months since Citrinest saw Sawyer.

    Now, looking at him, she felt nothing her heart was utterly calm.

    Sawyer looked haggard, his skin almost ghostly pale, eyes sunken and dull. He seemed weighed down by exhaustion and sorrow.

    The sight caught Citrine off guard. She remembered Sawyer as someone who took meticulous care of himself, obsessed with a healthy lifestyle and getting enough sleep. His motto had always been to face life and work in the best possible condition.

    To see someone so disciplined now so broken-it was clear that learning Jete wasn''t really his daughter had hit him hard.

    But that was his problem, not hers.

    Citrine regarded him coolly. "Mr. Iverson, I thought I made myself clear before. I don''t see any reason for us to meet."

    Sawyer''s

    dyes were bloodshot, as if x with emotion. "Cit: c

    slept in days. His

    It was my fault."

    I''m

    Ever since hisst fever and hospital stay, all his memories hade back- memories from another lifetime.

    The dream he''d had while unconscious hadn''t been a dream at all. It was the truth of his past life.

    Back then, he, the Iverson family, and Theo had plotted together to steal Citrine''s kidney and give it to Jete.

    He''d not only taken her kidney, butter conspired with Jete to put on a show, all so Jete could im Citrine''s inheritance.

    He was the one who ruined Citrine''s life.

    Even at the very end, when Citrine had realized they were deceiving her, she''d still gone along with their charade.

    Citrine eyed him warily, sensing

    something was off. She narroweNet

    B

    her eyes and pretended not to understand. "I have no idea what

    you''re talking about."

    Sawyer''s heart twisted with guilt. Eyes red, he said quietly, "I''m sorry. I''m the reason you died."

    If not for him, Citrine wouldn''t have suffered so much in her past life-she might even have lived.

 Chapter 476

    Sawyer''s words made Citrine lift her eyelids ever so slightly, her eyes widening in shock.

    Had Sawyer regained memories from his past life too?

    Before Citrine could dwell on it, Sawyer bowed his head, his voice earnest and low. ¡°Citrine, I''m sorry. I shouldn''t have yed favorites, and I should never have helped Jete scheme for your inheritance."

    So, Sawyer had been reborn as well.

    Citrine''s gaze sharpened instantly.

    She pressed down her swirling emotions and fixed her eyes on Sawyer, speaking each word with chilling rity. "From this life on, we''re no longer father and daughter."

    "You... you remember the past too?" Sawyer''s whole body jolted. The final words Citrine spoke to him before her death in that previous life echoed in his mind, each syble cutting deeper than thest.

    In that instant, a thousand memories crashed down on him.

    In thest life, Citrine had never cut ties with the Iverson family. She never went to

    look for her biological father, Raymond. The Iverson family never went bankrupt, he never divorced Aline, and he died never knowing Jete wasn''t his real daughter.

    But this life was nothing like thest. Everything had taken a different path, especially Citrine-she was slipping further and further away from him.

    So, Citrine had remembered everything all along. That''s why she had insisted on severing all ties with him in this life.

    Since there was no point pretending anymore, Citrine folded her arms across her chest and let her lips curl into a wry smile. "If I didn''t have memories of my past life, I''d probably be stuck in misery every single day."

    She''d spent her entirest life desperately chasing Sawyer''s love, only to end up drowning in sorrow.

    Sawyer lowered his gaze, the weight of his memories pressing down mercilessly. He struggled to speak. "I''m sorry."

    Citrine''s smile didn''t reach her eyes. "Do you really think ''I''m sorry'' fixes anything? Does a single apology erase all the pain you caused me?"

    Sawyer knew it didn''t, but he couldn''t bring himself to say nothing. "I failed you as a father. I''ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I swear I will."

    Citrine almostughed. She looked at Sawyer, her voice t and cold. "In the Iverson family, whenever

    13 ????

    something involved Jete, it

    always her side that mattered. I was

    always the one in the wrong."

    "Sawyer, you used me, abandoned me in that burning house, shipped me off

    overseas... and the list goes on. I remember every single thing. In all these years,

    I don''t even have nightmares anymore."

    "Because the moment you show up in my dreams, I wake up. You are the nightmare I can''t escape."

    Sawyer felt his heart sink, heavy with the truth he could no longer deny. For the first time, he truly understood just how deep Citrine''s hatred for him ran-so deep, it spanned two lifetimes.

    Before Sawyer could respond, Citrine continued, "Do you know who I hate the most, Sawyer? Out of everyone?"

    "Jete framed me, Aline abused me, Theo betrayed me... but none of thatpares to the pain you gave me."

    "To be honest, when I found out you, Holbrook, and Theo conspired to take my kidney for Jete, that was the moment I lost all hope in you."

    She fixed him with a piercing stare. "Do you know why I jumped that day?"

    Sawyer was silent, unable to meet her eyes.

    Citrine let out a short, bitterugh. ¡°Because I realized as long as I carried thebel of ''adopted daughter, anyone in the Iverson family could attack me however they liked. That day, I understoodethe only way to be free was to give this life back to you. Only then, standing before you, could I stop being beneath you. Only then would your endless usations finally end."

    As her words faded, Sawyer froze.

    Suddenly, he remembered that final day and the words he''d spat at Citrine over the phone.

    All he''d cared about was his and Jete''s n. He''d screamed at her, not thinking, not caring, "I raised you all these years! You should be grateful! Citrine Iverson, you owe me-you have to save me!

    He remembered himself even now, cursing her with every cruel name he could

    think of ungrateful, heartless, a traitor.

 Chapter 477

    A splitting pain exploded in Sawyer''s head, forcing his eyes wide open.

    Fragments of old, half-buried memories began to surface with an unsettling rity.

    "Citrine, as the Iversons'' adopted daughter, you can''tpete with Jete."

    "Citrine, you''re not really family. You can''t work at thepany. Jete is the future heir of the Iverson Group-she''s different."

    "Citrine, I took you in and raised you. Without me, where would you be? Now that something''s happened to Jete, even if it''s only to repay me, you must donate your kidney to her."

    "Citrine, as an adopted daughter, your background just doesn''t match the Glenwood family. Your sister likes Theo-so stay out of their rtionship."

    Every single word came from his mouth.

    He had hurt her so many times.

    Sawyer''s eyes burned red, his lips parted as if to speak, but not a single word made it out.

    Who is he putting on this pitiful act for now? Citrine let out a coldugh, her teeth clenched. "Everyone who hurt me in my past life-I won''t let any of you go. That includes you, Sawyer."

    She gave him onest warning. "If you want to live a little longer, I''d suggest you never show your face in front of me again."

    With that, Citrine turned on her heel and walked away.

    As she moved to leave, panic shed across Sawyer''s face. Suddenly, with a thud, he dropped to his knees.

    "I''m sorry, Citrine." He couldn''t think of anything else to say.

    Citrine nced back at him. His desperate kneeling didn''t even register-she just gave a frosty smile, then stalked up to him, her voice full of disdain.

    "Save the theatrics. Don''t embarrass me at the gates of our university. Are you trying to make me a headline?"

    The entrance

    ce to Crestwood

    ex

    University was nothing like an ordinary campus gate. There were always reporters lurking, waiting for a story If they caught this on camera, Citrine could already imagine tomorrow''s gossip. #Crestwood Student Forces Adoptive Father to Kneel-A New Low for Morality?

    Sawyer nched at her words. "I''m sorry-I didn''t mean to." He scrambled to his feet, frantically scanning the area. Only when he saw no one was watching did he finally rx.

    Citrine had no intention of wasting another word on him. She was about to leave when Sawyer suddenly grabbed her arm.

    "Citrine, I''m not asking for forgiveness¡ªjust a chance to make things right. Let me atone for what I''ve done."

    Meanwhile, inside a nearby car, Hilda and Wade-watching the scene unfold- were fuming.

    "How dare hey a hand on my girl? He must have a death wish," Hilda seethed.

    "That bastard! Who does he think he is, grabbing my sister like that?" Wade growled.

    Their anger was identical-faces twisted in fury-as they threw open their car doors almost simultaneously.

    Sawyer looked up at Citrine with pleading eyes, about to speak again, when suddenly someone yanked him back and pped him hard across the face.

    "What the hell do you think you''re doing?" Sawyer stared in disbelief at the woman in front of him.

    "What am I doing? pping a piece of trash like you," Hilda spat, shooting him a murderous re as she pulled Citrine protectively behind her.

    Citrine was startled for a moment, then saw Hilda standing before her like a mother bear shielding her cub.

    Hilda''s voice was sharp with warning. "Touch our Citrine again and I''ll break your hand."

    This man-he''d adopted Citrine, only to mistreat her all these years.

    Hilda''s fists clenched at the memory of everything she''d read in the investigator''s report. She wanted nothing more than to tear him apart.

    Wade didn''t know Sawyer, but he instantly disliked the man. nting himself in front of Hilda and Citrine,

    Wade red at Sawyer and sp¨¢t, "Get lost. If you ever bother my sister again, you''ll regret it."

 Chapter 478

    Citrine hadn''t expected to run into these two. Ignoring Sawyer, she turned to them and said, "Alright, let''s go.''

    "Okay, let''s go," her daughter echoed, and Hilda didn''t spare Sawyer another nce.

    Once they''d left, Sawyer was the only one standing at the school gates. He touched the red mark on his cheek, staring after Citrine''s retreating figure in silence. He didn''t move until she hadpletely disappeared from sight, at which point he trudged away, defeated.

    As they left the school, Citrine spotted Hilda''s car parked nearby. Clearly, they had witnessed what had just happened. She pretended not to notice and didn''t say a word about it.

    After a while, Citrine finally broke the silence. "Have you two had lunch yet?"

    At almost the exact same moment, both faces lit up with delight. In perfect unison, they replied, "No."

    Citrine considered her schedule for the afternoon and said earnestly, "I''ve got ssester, so I probably won''t have time to take you out for a proper meal. How about we just eat in the cafeteria? My treat."

    They both agreed without hesitation. "Sounds good."

    Just then, something urred to Wade that he''dpletely overlooked. He nced at Citrine for a long moment before finally blurting out, "You never asked about our rtionship. You saw us together, but you didn''t seem curious at all. Does that mean you already know how we''re connected?"

    Hilda shot Citrine an expectant look, clearly interested in her answer.

    Citrine nodded calmly. "Yes, I know. You two are aunt and nephew."

    Wade''s jaw dropped, and he pped a hand over his mouth in shock. "No way, how did you figure that out? You''re a genius!"

    He barely finished before Hilda gave him a sharp smack on the head,

    exasperated by her nephew''s cluelessness. Why, of all people, did she have to be rted to this blockhead?

    Worried her daughter might feel awkward, Hilda was about to change the subject when Citrine spoke up.

    "I did some research on the Saunders family a while back," Citrine said, her tone casual and unbothered.

    Wade immediately realized how ridiculous his question had been and looked at her sheepishly.

    Citrine caught the embarrassed look in his eyes and smiled. "It''s fine. The Saunders family did their homework on me, too, didn''t they?"

    Hilda answered right away, "Yes... yes, we did."

    Citrine offered her a polite smile, then turned to Wade. "You probably don''t know my name yet. I''m Citrine Carmichael."

    "Citrine,"

    de repeated quietly. His

    missing sister had the same

    So it wasn''t just a colle

    all she really was the

    A few minutester, Citrine led them

    into the Crestwood University cafeteria. The ce was famous for its delicious food and affordable prices.

    She scanned the QR code on the table and handed her phone to Hilda. "Order whatever you''d like-it''s on me."

    As the other two browsed the menu, someone suddenly called out to Citrine.

    A middle-aged man in a leather jacket, genial and warm-faced, approached. When he saw Citrine, his eyes lit up with obvious joy.

    Not everyone shared his enthusiasm. Citrine''s heart sank, and for a moment, she wished she could crawl under the table.

    "Professor Smith." There was no escape, so she greeted him with forced cheer.

    Professor Smith was one of those people who acted like an old friend from the start. He plopped down right beside her and squinted at her with a wide grin. "Citrine, I''ve got a meeting this afternoon. Could you help supervise that hopeless bunch for me?"

    Worried she might refuse, he quickly added, "Please, Citrine, I''m begging you."

 Chapter 479

    Citrine had long since lost track of how many times she''d heard this conversation.

    She was about to refuse again when Professor Smith cut in, "Citrine, just go, won''t you? That group of kids from my department won''t stop pestering me to have youe supervise their project."

    With no other choice, Citrine finally nodded.

    At that moment, two voicesced with mockery sounded from behind her.

    "Oh, Kelvin, have you run out of talent in the Chemistry Department? Is that why you keep poaching from our Medical School?"

    "Citrine is one of our own, you know. If she''s going to supervise anyone, it should be the med students first. I say, Citrine, you shoulde sit in on our traditional medicine seminar this afternoon-give our students some pointers while you''re at it."

    The first speaker, with his kind, grandfatherly face, was Dean Zachariah of the Medical School. The other, a bit more severe, was Professor Henry, who headed Traditional Medicine.

    Kelvin Smith gave them a sharp, humorlessugh. "You two just can''t help meddling, can you?"

    Dean Zachariah replied with a thin, insincere smile, "Well, at least I don''t have arms as long as yours, Kelvin. Reaching all the way from Chemistry into our Medical School-that''s impressive."

    He let out a derisive snort. "What''s next? You nning to lure away our star students and make them join Chemistry full-time?"

    Kelvin just shrugged, unfazed. "And what if I am? Frankly, with Citrine''s talent, she should have joined Chemistry in the first ce."

    He''d been eyeing this gifted student for ages, hoping to bring her over to his department. Shameless, really.

    "Don''t even think about it," Zachariah shot back, his expression darkening. Kelvin''s shamelessness was clearly testing his patience. "If you try to poach Citrine again, don''t me me if I get unfriendly."

    Citrine wasn''t just brilliant-she was a prodigy. Not only did she have unmatched technical skills, but she was the darling of the entire Medical School. Everyone, from the dean down to the teaching assistants, adored her.

    Trying to steal such a prized student from under their noses? That was like cutting out their own heart. And who would let someone do that?

    Professor Henry let out a disdainful huff, eyeing Kelvin. "From what I''ve heard, this isn''t the first time you''ve exploited Citrine''s generosity to help your students. Tell me-out of all those award-winning patent your students snagged this year, how many had Citrine''s fingerprints all over them?"

    He continued voice biting, "If you can''t even teach your own students well enough to win on their own, and have to rely on help from our

    Medical School, you really have no

    business trying to steal our best and

    brightest."

    "You-!" It was Kelvin''s turn to bristle, the truth stinging more than he cared to admit. He cursed Henry under his breath.

    Watching the three professors squabble on her behalf, Citrine felt a wave of embarrassment.

    She gave the Chemistry Dean a polite smile, then spoke up, making her stance clear. "Professor Smith, thank you, but I''m really not interested in joining the Chemistry Department."

    Kelvin''s expression softened slightly when she addressed him. He smiled, resigned. "No worries, I respect your decision. If you ever change your mind, the Chemistry Department will always wee you."

    With a final frosty re at Zachariah and Henry, Kelvin stalked off, clearly annoyed.

    Once he was gone, Zachariah turned to Citrine with a warm smile. "Citrine, if that

    old fox ever tries harassing you again, juste to me. I''ll set him straight."

    Professor Henry chimed in, "Ore to me, I''d be happy to help."

    Citrine nodded at both of them, grateful.

    It was then that Zachariah and Henry finally noticed Hilda and Wade, who had been sitting quietly nearby, Zachariah nced at the two unfamiliar faces, then turned to Citrine, curiosity in his voice. And who might these two be?"

 Chapter 480

    Citrine hesitated, unsure how to introduce the neers. After a brief pause, she finally spoke. "They''re... friends."

    At the word "friends," both Hilda and Wade couldn''t help a fleeting look of disappointment, though it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

    Citrine took the initiative. "This is the Dean of our Medical Department, and this is a professor of traditional medicine."

    Hilda immediately extended her hand to the two men. "It''s a pleasure to meet you both."

    They shook her hand in turn.

    Compared to Hilda''sposure, Wade was clearly nervous and awkward.

    "H-hello, professors," he stammered, looking at the two men as if he couldn''t quite believe they were real.

    It was surreal. Never in his wildest dreams did Wade imagine he''d ever be talking to the dean and a professor from Crestwood University. He''d always been the underachiever, the ss clown, scraping by and barely making it into an average university after high school. He was no different from the other trust-fund kids in his circle, spending a couple of years abroad for show after graduation.

    Now here he was, face to face with the very people he''d only ever seen on TV or in the newspapers. The experience felt utterly unreal.

    To the dean and the professor, Citrine was indispensable-a star pupil, a prodigy. By extension, her friends naturally received the warmest treatment.

    The two men shook hands with Hilda and Wade, their manner genuinely kind. Zachariah smiled. "Wee. We''re d to have you here at our university." Henry added, "And the food in our cafeteria is fantastic. You muste by more often."

    With that, the two men turned to Citrine. "We''ll leave you to your meal, Citrine. Enjoy."

    As Hilda watched them walk away, she was still reeling from the shock.

    She''d seen both men before-along with the head of the chemistry department who''d just left-and had even watched several interviews featuring the three of them. The dean and the professor were legendary in the medical world, not only holding prestigious positions at Crestwood University but also serving as top experts at the Crestwood Medical Research Center.

    The Center had only been established two years ago, yet it had quickly be the city''s leading research institute. In that short.

    verme

    it had gained a reputation forbining Western and traditional medicine to solve countless

    groundbreaking surgeries, earning it

    recognition as the most

    authoritative institute in Crestwood.

    Hilda never expected her own daughter to have such close ties with these luminaries.

    In the world of the elite, connections were just as valuable as wealth and power. To have this level of influence Hilda was stunned, but above all, she was genuinely happy for her daughter. Citrine was truly exceptional.

    That evening, Citrine was meeting a few people at a private club for business. Ever since her true identity hade to light, there were far fewer people trying to judge her at a nce. Everything she did outside ran more smoothly.

    That night, Citrine brought Carlotta along to the club.

    The attendees were all CEOs from Crestwood''s biggest corporations, each determined to win her over. From the moment Citrine walked in, the ttery began ¡ªone after another, they raised their sses, eager to impress.

    "President Carmichael, you''re so young and already such a sharp business mind. Let me toast to your sess!"

    "President Carmichael, I heard you were top of your ss at Crestwood University''s Medical Department. I never imagined someone could be so skilled in both business and medicine. You have my utmost respect."

    "With your vision and drive at such a young age, CICI Group is sure to reach even greater heights under your leadership."

    The praise kepting, but Citrine simply sat on the sofa, poised and indifferent, watching these seasoned executives perform for her entertainment.

 Chapter 481

    Everyone raised their sses in a toast, their faces masked with polite smiles that felt as thin and brittle as ss.

    Citrine nced around the table, her lips curling into a faint, enigmatic smile. "Thank you all for your kind words."

    From start to finish, she hadn''t even touched her ss.

    She could easily tell that most of these people were fawning for their own gain; genuine admiration was in short supply.

    But Citrine didn''t care. Now that she stood at the top, she no longer needed to cater to anyone''s whims.

    She would drink if she felt like it¡ªand if she didn''t, she could just as easily flip the table and walk out.

    The others kept their sses raised, their eyes flickering uneasily toward Citrine, smiles freezing ufortably on their faces.

    Still, no one dared to speak up. Finally, someone tried to break the tension, smiling as he said, ¡°President Carmichael, you''re young, brilliant, and truly inspiring. We''ll finish this round in your honor-please, join us if you wish."

    With that, the group downed their drinks in unison, the awkward atmosphere dissolving somewhat.

    A sharp one, Citrine thought, letting her gaze linger on the man for a moment longer.

    Meanwhile, Carlotta, catching Citrine''s thoughts, leaned in and murmured softly, "That''s Mr. Shaw from Crestwood Hospital. He''s very interested in our medical Al robots."

    Citrine nodded, understanding at once.

    As intelligent robots became more widespread, hospitals and corporations everywhere were eager to invest in efficient, state-of-the-art models.

    CICI Group''s line of Al robots was the industry''s gold standard-most advanced, most reliable, and most sessful in the country, making them every business''s first choice.

    Thepetition''s products either failed basic tests orcked essential features; none of the people here would even consider them.

    Now, everyone at the table was scrambling to highlight their hospital''s or

    a quick word to Carlotta.

    They had just finished a quiet

    exchange when Mr. Fuller, his face

    stretched in an oily grin, looked at Citrine and asked, "President

    Carmichael, you''ve aplished so much at such a young age. You

    must be too busy for a boyfriend,

    am I right?"

    Citrine shot him a look, baffled by his sudden turn to her private life. Her brows knitted in annoyance. "No, I don''t have one."

    As soon as she answered, a spark shed in Mr. Fuller''s eyes. He nced meaningfully at the young man beside him, his gazeced with threat.

    "You-go have a drink with President Carmichael," he ordered.

    "Mr. Fuller..." Carney hesitated, his face going chalk white, resistance clear in his eyes.

    When Carney didn''t move, Danny Fuller shot him a venomous re and muttered under his breath, "Do you want to keep your job?"

    Then, leaning closer, he whispered, "If you can get President Carmichael to loosen up, I''ll let your parents off the hook. After that, our debts are settled."

    That promise made Carney''s eyes light up with hope. He asked earnestly, "You really mean it?"

    Danny Fuller pped him on the shoulder, smiling. "Of course."

    With everyone watching, Carney stood and walked over to Citrine, taking the seat beside her.

    "President Carmichael, let me offer you a drink," he said.

    His voice was cool, almost icy, but pleasant to the ear.

    From the moment he''d entered the room, Carney had been struck by President Carmichael''s beauty. Sitting so close now, her elegance was even more overwhelming.

    Her face was simply stunning-impossible to look away from.

    Carney found himself staring, momentarily spellbound.

    Citrine didn''t pick up her ss. She just turned her head to look at him.

    He sat with his back straight, proud yet respectful. Even seated, he was a head taller than her. His sharp jawline and strong features gave him an air of unyielding seriousness.

 Chapter 482

    But those eyes of his were so clear-like a college kid who''d just graduated, still untouched by the world.

    Citrine looked him over, her tone cool and detached. "A college student?"

    "Yes, President Carmichael," Carney replied, pressing his lips together, a flicker of humiliation in his eyes.

    He was used to being dragged along to these dinners by Danny Fuller. After enough of them, he''d learned firsthand how those in power loved to toy with young men straight out of college.

    Citrine narrowed her eyes, giving him a thorough once-over. Then she asked, "You''re strapped for cash?"

    Carney gritted his teeth. "Yeah. I''m desperate."

    "Cheers." Citrine paused for a moment, then suddenly raised her ss and tapped it lightly against his.

    She didn''t wait to see if he''d drink-she downed her wine in one swift motion and set the ss aside.

    Carney stared at her, stunned.

    He knew he was good-looking, had always known it. He''d grown up using that face to his advantage.

    He had assumed President Carmichael would be like all the other executives he''d met at these events-flirtatious, bold, shameless. He''d half-expected her to grope his thigh under the table, or to slip a hotel key card or a wad of cash into his shirt pocket.

    But President Carmichael did nothing of the sort. She hadn''t even truly looked at him.

    For a moment, Carney found himself doubting everything. Then he managed a self-deprecating smile.

    Of course. President Carmichael was stunning herself; she could have her pick of handsome, capable men. With a snap of her fingers, she could have dozens lining up at her feet.

    Why would she ever look twice at someone like him?

    But the thought of his crushing debts, of his parents trapped and threatened by loan sharks, made him straighten his spine and muster his courage. He forced himself to pour another drink for Citrine.

    Seeing that the evening was going nowhere, Mr. Fuller grew anxious, shooting Carney increasingly desperate looks across the table.

    Under that pressure, Carney steeled himself. He reached out his slender hand and covered Citrine''s, his palm enveloping hers.

    He leaned in close to her ear, voice low. "President Carmichael, would you like me

    to keep youpany tonight? I promise I won''t disappoint you."

    No sooner had the words left his lips than the door burst open.

    Sebastian strode in.

    A flustered waiter trailed behind, apologizing profusely to Mr. Fuller. "I''m so sorry, sir, but Mr. Vesper insisted on seeing you. I tried to stop him, but he just wouldn''t listen-my apologies for the disturbance."

    Danny Fuller''s face darkened. "How did you even find this ce? Get out, now."

    But Sebastian didn''t seem to hear him. He only had eyes for the girl sitting in the center of the room-his expression was thunderous.

    There was a man beside her, leaning in to whisper something, their hands entwined on the table. From where Sebastian stood, they looked every bit like a couple.

    A couple. The word tore through him.

    Carney hadn''t expected anyone to burst in. Remembering what he''d just done, the tips of his ears flushed red and he froze, unsure of what to do.

    Citrine, on the other hand, never let her expression change-not from the start, not even now.

    Under everyone''s gaze, she calmly removed Carney''s hand from hers.

    Then she leaned in, whispering, "I have hands and feet. I don''t need anyone to wait on me."

    Carney''s face turned crimson, then pale.

    If President Carmichael said no, he''d lose everything his parents, hisst chance to clear his debts.

    At that moment, Mr. Fuller shot Carney a frantic look, urging him on.

    But before Carney could say a word, Citrine let out a coldugh. "Mr. Fuller, if you''re having trouble with your eyes, you should get them checked. Wait too long, and you might go blind."

 Chapter 483

    Citrine''s gaze was sharp with warning, and Danny Fuller immediately mped his mouth shut, not daring to utter another word.

    Carney nced toward Citrine, lips pressed together, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. But beneath the surface, what he felt most was fear.

    After all, this was President Carmichael of CICI Group. What he''d just done had been far too bold-borderline disrespectful.

    At that moment, Sebastian''s stare was fixed on Citrine and the man sitting beside her. He seemed to forget entirely why he''de.

    "What are you doing?" His voice shook, eyes red as he looked at Citrine.

    "Isn''t it obvious? We''re discussing business." Citrine looked down at Sebastian from her seat, her tone cool and unbothered, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

    What kind of business required two people to sit so close, holding hands?

    Sebastian''s fists clenched at his sides, his lips trembling, but he had no right to question her-no standing at all.

    He red at Carney as if he could burn a hole straight through him.

    Carney soon felt the icy hostility in the air.

    The temperature in the suite seemed to drop by several degrees.

    Afraid the tension would ruin today''s negotiation, Danny Fuller was the first to break the silence. He shot Sebastian a cold re and said sharply, "You need to leave. We''re in the middle of a meeting."

    Sebastian didn''t budge.

    Danny Fuller''s brow furrowed. He shot an anxious nce at Citrine. "President Carmichael, my apologies. I''ll handle this right away."

    Without waiting for a reply, Danny Fuller grabbed Sebastian by the arm and dragged him out of the suite.

    Out in the hallway, Danny''s face was grim, his tone impatient. "Do you have any idea how important this deal is to me? Are you here to sabotage it?"

    Sebastian''s lips curled into a cold smile, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Sabotage? Mr. Fuller, if you don''t

    pay me

    what you owe, I''ll show you

    what real sabotage looks like." His

    words were edged with threat.

    Danny let out a weary sigh. "I told you, thepany''s cash flow is tight right now.

    Pushing me like this doesn''t help anyone."

    "Look, I''ve got important business to handle today. Just go home. I''ll take care of your payment as soon as I can."

    With that, Danny hurried back inside, not giving Sebastian another look.

    Once back in the suite, Danny stered on a bright smile and nodded apologetically at Citrine "Sorry about that, President Carmichael. Please forgive the interruption."

    He was about to return to his seat when Citrine suddenly spoke. "Why was he here to see you?"

    Everyone in the room froze, surprised she''d taken an interest in someone so seemingly insignificant.

    Sensing her curiosity, Danny''s spirits lifted. He gave a dismissiveugh. "That kid? He just started his business-full of pride, no idea how the world works."

    He continued, "His little start-up is lucky to even have a partnership with The Fuller Group. But instead of being grateful, he keeps pestering me about payment. Doesn''t know the first thing about business etiquette. He needs to be put in his pl¨¢ce, honestly.¡±

    Citrine''s expression didn''t change as she looked at Danny. "So, you haven''t paid him."

    Danny looked smug. ¡°Exactly. People like him need to learn their ce. There''s no way I''d pay him now."

    He didn''t notice the look of disdain in Citrine''s eyes-he only seemed more pleased with himself.

    A few others in the room chimed in in agreement. "Mr. Fuller''s right. That kid needs to learn a lesson."

    "Yeah, a tinypany like his should be thrilled just to work with The Fuller Group. He shouldn''t expect a dime."

    "Mr. Fuller has done him a huge favor, and the kid doesn''t even realize it."

 Chapter 484

    As the conversation carried on, no one seemed to notice the way Citrine''s eyes grew colder by the second-no one except Carney, who sat directly across from her. He sensed something was off.

    Suddenly, Citrine mmed her hand down on the table. "Mr. Fuller, since when did partnershipse with a hierarchy? Apparently, working with smallpanies means you can just take advantage of them for free. If that''s your style, Mr. Fuller, then CICI Group wants nothing to do with it. We''re not interested in being taken advantage of." She let thest words ring out, her tone sharp and deliberate.

    "President Carmichael... that''s not what I meant at all," Danny Fuller stammered, his face draining of color as panic crept in.

    The others who had sided with him moments before all fell silent, their expressions darkening. No one dared to speak up.

    Citrine offered a cold, mirthless smile. "Oh, but that''s exactly what you meant."

    "There''s no business without a touch of cunning, but I must say, Mr. Fuller, I haven''t seen anyone quite as shameless as you."

    "CICI Group doesn''t work with swindlers. Mr. Fuller, I think it''s time for you to leave."

    She paused, then added, "Oh, and in case you were wondering, that gentleman you insulted earlier? He''s a friend of mine."

    Danny''s face fell. He never imagined that Sebastian would be connected to Citrine how could two people from such different worlds know each other?

    He realized, toote, that he had just made a powerful enemy.

    Citrine ignored the rest of them. With everyone watching, she strode directly over to Mr. Shaw from Crestwood Hospital.

    She extended her hand. "Mr. Shaw, I look forward to working with you."

    "Likewise, Ms. Carmichael." Caught off guard, Hawley Shaw stood up so quickly

    he nearly tripped over his own feet, grinning as he shook her hand.

    After exchanging a few formal pleasantries, Citrine cast a cool nce at the others. ¡°That''s all for today. You''re all dismissed."

    With that, she turned to leave.

    Danny Fuller rushed after her, desperation written all over his face. "President Carmichael, please give me another chance!"

    He dropped to his knees with a dull thud.

    The Fuller Group might be a major corporation, but years of financial

    mismanagement had hollowed it out. Danny was counting on this partnership with CICI Group as hisst hope for a turnaround.

    Citrine''s expression didn''t soften in the slightest. "Mr. Fuller, maybe you should learn how to act with some integrity before talking business."

    Without another word, she walked away.

    After leaving the club, Citrine was about to get into her car when she noticed a man standing at the entrance. She closed the car door and walked over to him.

    Since the music festival, they hadn''t seen each other once. In just a few short months, Citrine had gone from privileged heiress to chairwoman of CICI Group.

    Now, seeing her again, Sebastian

    couldn''t even meet her gaze. In that moment, a gnawing sense of inadequacy took root in his heart She was so far out of his league, all the words he wanted to say lodged in his throat, likely never to be spoken.

    Citrine noticed his silence and smiled. "Still here? Were you waiting for me?"

    Sebastian nodded.

    He knew he didn''t deserve her, but he couldn''t bear the thought of watching her get close to someone else.

    Sebastian seemed more withdrawn than usual tonight. Citrine assumed he was just upset about losing out on the partnership and didn''t dwell on it.

    She nced at her watch. "It''s still early. Let''s get something to eat."

    He couldn''t bring himself to say no, so he nodded and got into Citrine''s car.

    December nights were bitterly cold, so they ended up at a small grill house. Citrine was genuinely hungry, as soon as the food arrived, she started eating without

    hesitation-quick but always with an effortless grace.  s?novel

    Sebastian, on the other hand, barely touched his food. Instead, he watched Citrine, quietly

    mesmerized. Just seeing her earn et

    was enough to fill him with a strange, unexpected sense of contentment.

 Chapter 485

    Seeing that he hadn''t moved, Citrine looked up at him curiously. "Aren''t you going to eat?"

    Sebastian nced at the te piled high withmb skewers, reached over, and picked one up, bringing it to his mouth.

    It suddenly struck him that Citrine never seemed to eat meat. When they''d ordered earlier, she hadn''t asked for a single skewer, opting for only a few vegetarian dishes. Now, staring at the mountain ofmb he''d ordered, Sebastian realized she''d made simr choices every time they''d eaten together-always leaning toward nt-based foods.

    He studied her, puzzled. "You... don''t eat meat?"

    "No, I don''t." Citrine put down the vegetable skewer in her hand, pausing for a moment before meeting Sebastian''s gaze.

    "Why not?" he asked. He''d never seen anyone stick so strictly to vegetables at a barbecue joint before.

    Citrine looked right at him. Suddenly, her stomach twisted, and memories, long buried, surged to the surface.

    Those years on Mirage Cay-she''d managed to win the ind boss''s respect with her skill and intelligence, but in exchange, she was constantly roped into helping him with his schemes. At first, it was just games and programming, but it didn''t take long for the work to turn darker. They wanted her to build gambling sites, andter, even to help manufacture drugs.

    She''d refused, no matter what they did, so the boss had thrown her into a locked

    room.

    Anyone who disobeyed the boss ended up there¡ªa grim cell watched over by brutal guards whose job was to break the will of the stubborn. No one knew exactly how many people had been tortured to death in those rooms.

    Citrine had nearly died herself, but even on the brink, she wouldn''t give in and help with criminal work.

    Luckily, she was too valuable to lose-brilliant, irreceable, and with medical skills that made her indispensable. The boss, afraid she might die, finally ordered her tormentors to back off.

    She''d thought, at the time, that she''d survived the worst. She had no idea what true horror awaited her.

    Violence and humiliation hadn''t worked, so the boss sent her to the white house.

    At first, she hadn''t understood what was so frightening about that ce. Once inside; she realized everyonez there was a test subject. No one knew what had been injected into them. By day, they shuffled around like zombies; by night, they came alive-truly alive, but in the worst way possible.

    Citrine was the only one still fully human. Every night was a nightmare.

    When darkness fell, the others turned savage, attacking anything that moved. She had to stay on constant guard just to keep herself from being torn apart.

    She''d thought things couldn''t get any worse¡ªuntil, after three days locked up with them and nothing to eat, the others started tearing into each other.

    She saw it all: people wrenching off each other''s arms or legs, blood everywhere, the sickening stench turning her stomach.

    They held their gruesome trophies with giddy excitement.

    She watched horrified, as a man whose hand had just been torn off seemed not to feel any pain. He grinned as he shoved another man''s

    calf into his mouth, crunching

    through bone and flesh as if it were nothing.

    Swor

    By morning, half the people in the white house were dead. The floor was slick with blood, severed limbs scattered everywhere.

    Pulled back to the present, Citrine pressed her lips together and, with a steady voice, answered Sebastian, "No real reason. I just don''t like it."

    Sebastian could tell she wasn''t being entirely truthful, but he didn''t push.

    After their meal, they took a walk in a nearby park to help digest. When they reached a quiet spot by theke, Sebastian broke the silence. "That man who sat next to you today... who was he?"

 Chapter 486

    Sebastian had wrestled with his thoughts for a long time before finally mustering the courage to voice what had been weighing on his mind.

    As soon as the words left his lips, he fixed his gaze on Citrine, clearly waiting for

    her response.

    Citrine paused, caught slightly off guard. It took her a moment to recall the man who''d been sitting beside her earlier that day.

    She nced thoughtfully at Sebastian before answering, "Oh, him? He''s Mr. Fuller''s assistant."

    Sebastian frowned. "You two..."

    Before he could finish, Citrine cut him off with a lightugh. "Mr. Fuller just sent him over to offer me a drink."

    The tension in Sebastian''s chest finally eased when he realized there was nothing between them. All the irritation and gloom that had been building up inside him seemed to vanish in an instant.

    Suddenly, Citrine remembered the question Sebastian had asked back in the private room earlier that evening. She quickly realized he''d been jealous.

    An amused smile tugged at her lips, and she felt the urge to tease him. "So, what did you think was going on between us?"

    "I, uh..." Sebastian pressed his lips together, unable to get the words out.

    He looked so flustered, it was almost endearing. Citrine couldn''t help butugh.

    But it was a shame, really...

    A shame he wasn''t the primary personality.

    For some reason, her mind drifted to Sebastian''s main persona-the one who was arrogant, violent, and thoroughly unpleasant. Compared to that, she much preferred this gentler side of him.

    Sebastian had no idea what Citrine was thinking, but from the look on her face, he could tell she was toying with him. Oddly enough, although he was the one being teased, he found himself enjoying it.

    After hesitating for a moment, Sebastian grinned and asked, "I just realized, it''s been a year since college started. Do you have anyone you like?"

    She was beautiful, talented, and admired by many at school. He couldn''t help but wonder if there was someone special in her life.

    Citrine saw right through his cautious probing and replied coolly, "No."

    Sebastian''s eyes burned with curiosity. "Then, what kind of person do you like, Citrine?"

    What kind of person?

    Citrine frowned slightly, mulling over

    the

    . In herst life, she''d e erienced love, so theel

    question was harder than

    Lit

    Seemed.

    After a pause, she spoke carefully, "Someone who loves me

    unconditionally, who''d never bol n¨¦t

    or lie to me. I suppose... I''d fall for

    someone like that."

    Even as she said it, Citrine knew her answer was hopelessly idealistic¡ªsuch a person probably didn''t exist.

    Sebastian''s smile faded as her words sank in. Thinking of why he''d first

    approached her, a wave of guilt washed over him.

    He''d gotten close to Citrine only

    after discovering her connection to

    the Viridis Medical Institute

    overseas hoping to secure a spot for his mother at the hospital. But in

    the end, he''d been toote. His mother had already slipped into aa.

    Sebastian pressed his lips together, then quietly asked, "What if you found out

    one day that you''d been lied to? What would you do?"

    Citrine simply smiled, saying nothing.

    Sebastian didn''t push for an answer. He noticed her ears, red from the cold, and, without thinking, unwound the scarf from around his neck.

    Before Citrine could react, he draped the warm scarf gently around her shoulders,

    its soft fabric carrying a trace of his clean, subtle scent.

    Citrine looked up, and for a moment, their eyes met.

    She opened her mouth to speak, "You-"

    Sebastian interrupted, "Don''t move."

    "It''s freezing. Just keep it on."

    His gentle voice floated down from above.

    Citrine stopped protesting, letting Sebastian tie his own scarf snugly around her neck.

 Chapter 487

    Inside the lounge.

    Danny Fuller gazed coldly at Carney, a hard glint flickering in his eyes.

    "You know how things are, Carney. The Fuller Group''s business has been slippingtely. If we can''t win over President Carmichael..."

    He paused, his voice suddenly turning sharp and menacing. "I''ll have no choice but to send someone to break your parents'' legs."

    Carney froze, his face draining of color.

    No sooner had Danny uttered the threat than he put on his usual mask of fake benevolence, shing a thin smile at Carney. "You''ve got a good-looking face, Carney. You should learn how to use it."

    "You know what I mean, right?" He gave Carney''s shoulder two patronizing pats.

    "But President Carmichael turned me down today." Carney''s hands curled into fists, his voice trembling.

    Danny snorted, his tone smug and certain. "You''re shy, that''s all. With so many people around, anyone would feel embarrassed."

    She''s just an eighteen-year-old girl, he thought with contempt. No matter how tough she acts, she can''t resist a little temptation. He doubted her personal life was as squeaky clean as she pretended.

    Hell, for all he knew, she''d been with more men than he''d ever kept women.

    And with a face like Carney''s? He didn''t believe for a second Carney would shrug off an opportunity like this.

    Danny''s voice grew sly. "In a couple of days, President Carmichael has a business trip. I''ll get you into her suite, Carney. That''s your chance-make her happy."

    As he spoke, an oily,scivious grin spread across his face.

    Carney''s stomach churned in disgust, but the thought of his family''s crushing debt ¡ªand his parents, held hostage by loan sharks-left him no room to argue.

    He forced out, "Understood."

    Ever since the bankruptcy, his parents had changed. His father spent his days chasing reckless investments, while his mother gambled away everything they had. They were bottomless pits, and this time, they''d borrowed from people tied to the Fuller Group itself. If he didn''t pay back the loan, Danny Fuller would never let his parents go.

    Sometimes Carney hated them both-but he couldn''t bring himself to abandon them.

    A few dayster, Citrine attended a g hosted by one of the city''s old families, Bored out of her mind halfway through, she decided to slip away, intending to change out of her dress in her suite before leaving.

    In her room, Citrine freshened up, then headed back into the bedroom.

    She''d barely started unzipping her dress when she noticed a man on the bed, lounging in a white bathrobe. Citrine startled, heart racing.

    The man''s skin was flushed pink, the blush spreading from his neck up to his

    ears.

    He looked up and said softly, "President Carmichael."

    She recognized him instantly¡ªhe was the same young man who''d toasted her at thest event.

    "What are you doing here?" she asked, eyebrows raised in mild surprise.

    Carney got up from the bed and walked directly toward her. "President Carmichael, I''m here to discuss the robotics project. Last time, Mr. Fuller upset you, and I wanted to apologize in person."

    Citrine waved him off, her tone cool. "No need for apologies. I have no intention of working with the Fuller Group."

    She opened the door pointedly. "Alright. You can go now."

    But Carney stood his ground, staring at her with unwavering eyes. Then, without

    warning, he slipped off his bathrobe, standing naked before her.

    "What are you doing?" Citrine''s voice was sharp, her brow furrowing.

    Carney turned slowly in ce, utterly bare. "President Carmichael, look at me-broad shoulders, narrow waist, not a bad body. If you''re willing, let me stay tonight. I''ll do whatever you want."

    Citrine regarded him for a long moment, then suddenly smiled.

    She stepped closer, reached out, and ran her hand across his toned abs. "Not bad at all."

 Chapter 488

    Carney hadn''t expected her sudden touch. The shock left his face flushed crimson; the coolness of her fingertips sent a jolt through his body, like an electric current. He shivered involuntarily, his heart skipping several beats.

    Just as he was certain Citrine''s gesture meant she''d epted what wasing next, her voice cut through the haze, cold and detached: "Leave."

    Without so much as a nce, Citrine picked up the robe from the bed and tossed it to him, her expression unreadable.

    "President Carmichael..." Carney caught the robe, his lips pressed tight, his face turning pale. He hadn''t expected her to reject him.

    A moment ago, he''d been sure she was willing.

    Danny Fuller''s words echoed in his mind, making Carney desperate. He nced at Citrine and threw caution to the wind. "President Carmichael, please, I need your help. If I don''t get this contract today¡ª"

    Citrine cut him off before he could finish. "CICI Group isn''t a charity. The Fuller Group has no moral bottom line; I won''t do business with them."

    Her patience was gone. "Out."

    Carney''s face drained of color. In the end, he didn''t dare argue.

    Danny Fuller was dangerous, but President Carmichael was no pushover either.

    She was young, but to have built CICI Group from the ground up at her age- anyone would be a fool to underestimate her.

    After leaving the suite, Carney changed into clean clothes, intending to make his exit.

    He didn''t expect to be stopped at the entrance by a small group.

    The guy at the front-ming red hair-lit up when he saw Carney. "Well, well. Didn''t your family go bankrupt? What are you doing here?"

    One of his cronies snickered nastily. "What, did some sugar mama bring you out tonight?"

    He sidled up to the redhead and whispered loudly enough for Carney to hear, "Mr. Jarvis Rackham, word is the Iversons are t broke, buried in debt. His parents even owe loan sharks. Carney had to start hustling just to pay it all off."

    Jarvis burst outughing. "Wow,

    didn''t expect that. The he

    from Neo-Era Tech is really living

    wild these days, huh? Real piece of work."

    The crony chimed in eagerly, "Yeah, wonder how many women have had their fun with Carney by now."

    Carney''s eyes grew colder at their taunts.

    He forced himself to swallow his anger, pretending not to hear a word, and walked straight past them.

    Jarvis''s smirk faded at being ignored. He red at Carney and barked, "Hey, I''m talking to you-stop right there."

    Carney didn''t slow down. Jarvis

    by the cor, and snarled, "Are you deaf? Still think you''re some big shot?"

    after him, grabbed him

    "Let go," Carney said, lifting his eyes to meet Jarvis''s. His gaze was icy.

    "Oh, you''ve got some nerve." Jarvis''s temper snapped, and he swung his fist at Carney.

    Unfazed, Carney took the hit; blood trickled from the corner of his mouth down his neck as Jarvis kept swinging, each punch harder than thest.

    Jarvis was getting more worked up, raining blows on Carney''s face.

    Suddenly, a clear, cold female voice called from the doorway: "Enough."

    Jarvis and Carney both turned.

    Carney hadn''t imagined she''d see him like this-beaten, humiliated.

    He hung his head, trying to hide how battered he felt.

    Jarvis''s eyes lit up as he saw Citrine. "Wow. Even prettier than our campus queen."

    He instantly let go of Carney''s cor,

    P.n

    smoothed his suit, and stepped toward Citrine with a bright, eager smile, reaching out a hand like gentleman. "Miss, I''m Jarvis Rackham, from the Crestwood Rackham family. My father is

    T¨¦rence Rackham, CEO of the Rackham Group. Let''s get to know each other, shall we?"

 Chapter 489

    "What''s the Rackham Group supposed to be, anyway?"

    Citrine didn''t even bother to spare Jarvis a proper nce. She let out a cold, dismissiveugh. "You? Seriously? Not even close."

    It was the first time a woman had ever put Jarvis in his ce like that, and his face flushed a deep, angry red.

    He jabbed a finger at Citrine, his voice rising with indignation. "You really don''t know what''s good for you, do you? You should feel honored that I''ve taken an interest in you."

    Citrine finally looked up at him, clicking her tongue in mock pity.

    She sized him up from head to toe before speaking. "Dark circles under your eyes,plexion sallow, you look exhausted. Let me give you some advice: try cleaning up your act for the sake of your health. If you keep living this recklessly, you''ll wind up with nothing¡ªand no one to carry on your name."

    Jarvis''s eyes went wide, mortified and furious. "What the hell are you saying? Who are you calling weak?"

    Citrine nced over at the other two men, then shrugged. "Well, unless anyone else here is sweating bullets and looking like death warmed over, I think it''s obvious who I mean."

    Jarvis wiped his forehead-sure enough, he was sweating-and his expression grew even darker. He red at Citrine, voice low and threatening. "You bitch. Spouting nonsense. You really want to test me? I could end you."

    The look on Citrine''s face turned icy. Suddenly, without warning, she pped Jarvis hard across the face.

    She didn''t hold back-her palm stung from the blow. Rubbing her hand, Citrine said evenly, "Go ahead. Try me."

    Jarvis stared at her in disbelief. "Did you just hit me?"

    He raised his hand and started toward her. "I''ll make you pay for that."

    Carney''s expression changed; he moved to step in, but before he could, one of Jarvis''sckeys rushed forward and grabbed Jarvis by the arm. He leaned in and whispered urgently, ¡°Mr. Rackham, you''re messing with the wrong person. That''s President Carmichael-the CEO of CICI Group."

    Jarvis''s face drained of color.

    CICI Group. Those words alone reminded him of his father''s warning that morning -out of everyone he might cross today, President Carmichael was the one person he absolutely could not afford to offend.

    Before Jarvis could utter another word, hisckey bowed repeatedly to Citrine. "We''re so sorry, President Carmichael. We didn''t recognize you. Please, don''t hold it against us."

    With that, he hurried Jarvis away, thetter''s face still twisted with embarrassment and anger.

    Suddenly, only Citrine and Carney were left in the room.

    Only now did Carney realize that Citrine had just stepped in to protect him.

    He pressed his lips together, then spoke in a quiet, grateful voice. "Thank you, President Carmichael."

    Since his family''s bankruptcy,

    Carney had gone from a sheltered trust-fund kid to a penniless nobody, a target for anyone who wanted to kick him while he was down. Rtives kept their distance former

    friends mocked him, and those who

    disliked him made his life hell every

    chance they got.

    It had been a long time since anyone had shown Carney genuine kindness- Citrine was the first.

    Maybe that kindness was why, standing in front of her now, he finally found a little courage.

    He bit his lip, letting his vulnerability show. "President Carmichael, if I don''t get this contract, my parents... they''ll have their legs broken." For the first time, he looked to her for sympathy.

    When Citrine didn''t respond, Carney spoke up again, desperation creeping into his voice. "I''d do

    anything for your help. I could bon et

    your lover, yourpanion,

    whatever you want. Just... please, help me."

    Citrine''s eye twitched in disbelief. In two lifetimes, no one had ever tried to throw themselves at her like this. She almostughed in exasperation.

    "What a naive little trust-fund boy. No wonder you couldn''t protect yourself when your family lost everything."

    She didn''t sugarcoat it. "I''m not interested in you, and I''m not about to keep you as a ything."

    She fixed him with a sharp look. "There are plenty of ways to w your way out of the mud, Carney. You just picked the most self-destructive one."

    Thatst line hit Carney like a punch to the gut.

 Chapter 490

    Yeah, he''s always been on a downward spiral-by choice.

    Citrine didn''t bother to respond. She simply walked away, leaving him standing there.

    Carney stood in silence for a moment, then his eyes suddenly lit up. He hurried after her.

    "President Carmichael, please¡ªI''m begging you, let me help you. I''ll do anything you ask."

    He''d finally made up his mind. Rather than keep wallowing in self-pity, he might as well put himself to work for her.

    Citrine narrowed her eyes this time, but instead of brushing him off, she asked, "And what exactly can you do for me?"

    Carney straightened his back. "I majored in artificial intelligence at university. I''ve even filed my own patent. I have the skills to do a lot for you."

    He dove into a list of his college projects and professional achievements, rattling off every aplishment he could think of.

    Neo-Era University of Technology was the best school for Al in Crestwood- second only to Crestwood University itself. Carney had really learned a lot there.

    Citrine listened to his credentials one by one, quietly impressed. He was clearly talented.

    She gave a small nod. "Come interview at CICI Group tomorrow."

    Carney stared at her in disbelief. He hesitated, then asked, "President Carmichael, what about my parents?"

    Citrine smiled just a little. ¡°If you pass the interview, you''ll be working for me. I''ll take care of it."

    She added, "But of course, you have to actually pass."

    "Thank you, President Carmichael." Carney''s eyes shone. He never imagined things could be resolved this easily.

    After parting ways with Carney, Citrine headed toward the parking lot-only for someone to call out behind her.

    "Citrine."

    She turned. Sebastian was standing there, waiting.

    She frowned, puzzled. "What are you doing here? Did youe to the party too?"

    He nodded. "Yeah."

    Something felt off. She had just left, and now here he was, following right behind Citrine narrowed her eyes at him. Did you overhear what we were talking about?"

    Sebastian didn''t deny it. His face was calm as he said, "I heard. That guy asked you to be his... sponsor."

    Citrine let out augh, teasing, "Why? I''m wealthy and powerful-people wanting my help shouldn''t be surprising, right?"

    Sebastian felt a sharp pang in his chest. He''d been just behind the two of them, and the moment he heard that guy ask Citrine to take care of him, he honestly panicked. He was scared she might actually say yes. Luckily, she hadn''t.

    He forced himself to nod, though the pain lingered. "It''s normal... but he''s not good enough for you."

    As far as Sebastian could see, that guy had nothing going for him except a decent face.

    Citrine raised an eyebrow. "If he''s not good enough, then who is?"

    Sebastian was silent for a long moment before shaking his head. "No one."

    She pressed, "What about you?"

    Sebastian blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

    She repeated, "Do you think you''re good enough for me?"

    He looked down, voice rough. "I''m not."

    Citrine studied him for a few seconds, then a mischievous glint shed in her eyes. "But I think you are."

    "Citrine, don''t joke like that." Sebastian stiffened, almost thinking he''d misheard. But just as quickly, he dismissed the thought.

    He changed the subject, almost automatically. "Danny Fuller just transferred the

    funds to ourpany-thanks to you."

    Citrine smiled faintly. "No need to thank me. I didn''t do it for you."

    To her, it was just a small

    favor-nothing worth mentioning In truth, she hadn''t done it for Sebastian''s sake at all. Danny Fuller''s smug face was simply too irritating to ignore.

 Chapter 491

    Ever since Dick and Aline''s reputations were ruined, Talbot had wasted no time kicking Dick out of the Glenwood Group. Now, he only followed Scales'' strict instructions, providing Dick''s family with a monthly allowance-a generous two hundred thousand, but a mere pittancepared to their old lives of reckless extravagance.

    But for a family used to spending without care, such a drastic drop was impossible to ept. Dick, unwilling to settle for this humiliation, sold off a few properties for cash, determined to make aeback and reim his glory.

    That day happened to be Scales'' one-hundredth birthday celebration¡ªa grand affair. Dick brought Aline and their daughter Jete along, hoping to use the Glenwood family name to rub shoulders with Crestwood''s most influential CEOs.

    It was the first time Aline and Jete would appear in public as members of the Glenwood family, and both could scarcely contain their anticipation.

    "Mom, Dad," Jete said, almost bouncing with excitement. "After tonight, I''ll finally be a real Glenwood!"

    Aline beamed, smoothing her daughter''s hair. "That''s right, sweetheart. With the Glenwood name, no one will dare look down on us again."

    But not everyone shared their optimism. When Talbot spotted Dick''s family arriving, his expression soured. He turned to the butler, frowning. "Why are they here? Didn''t I tell you not to let them in?"

    The butler looked stricken. ¡°Sir, I didn''t send them an invitation. They just... showed up."

    Talbot gave a derisive snort. "That family''s an embarrassment. It''s bad enough when they disgrace themselves at home-now they have to do it at Father''s birthday party, too."

    He''d spent a fortune scrubbing Dick''s scandals from the news, and only then had Glenwood Group''s stock price started to recover. Now this fool had the nerve to show his face at such a critical moment.

    Why did Father ever adopt such an idiot? It wasn''t enough for Dick to humiliate himself in public-Talbot always had to clean up his messes.

    With a dark scowl, Talbot strode across the room toward Dick.

    Jete spotted him first and called out, "Uncle Talbot!"

    Aline gave a polite nod, her voice syrupy sweet. "Big brother."

    But Talbot didn''t even nce at the two of them. He stopped in front of Dick, fixing him with a look of utter disappointment, and practically spat, "What are you doing here? You want to make a spectacle of yourself?"

    He pulled a check from his pocket, tossed it at Dick''s feet, and motioned impatiently. "Take this and leave This is Dad''s birthday, and the guests are important. You don''t betong here."

    Dick stared at the check on the floor, his face dark with humiliation. Did Talbot

    really see him as nothing but a beggar?

    His voice trembled with anger. "Why can''t I be here? I''m his son too. Why shouldn''t I attend my own father''s birthday?"

    He couldn''t help but resent how things had turned out. Why did Talbot always get to look down on him? Why was Talbot head of the Glenwood family? Why did Dick always have to take orders from him?

    Talbot sneered, dropping any pretense of civility. "Dick, you''re nothing but a stray Dad took in. You should be grateful the Glenwoods even give you food. Don''t overstep your ce."

    Dick''s face flushed with shame. Jete and Aline lowered their heads, not daring to say a word.

    Just then, a frail,manding voice sounded from behind them.

    "What''s going on here? What''s all thismotion?"

    Dick and Talbot turned in unison to see Scales sitting in his wheelchair.

    Talbot''s demeanor changed instantly. He hurried to his father''s side. "Dad, what

    are you doing out here? The doctor said you should be resting."

    Scales patted Talbot''s hand, then looked over at Dick, a smile creasing his weathered face.

    "Dick, you''re here. Come in, join us."

    Talbot''s face twitched in protest. "Dad... Dick, he "

    But before Talbot could finish, Scales caught sight of Jete standing behind

    Dick.

 Chapter 492

    He smiled warmly. "So this is Jete, isn''t it? Come here, sweetheart."

    Jete''s face lit up. She hurried over to Scales, her voice sweet as honey. "Grandpa."

    Scales chuckled, clearly delighted. "What a good girl. Your father''s told me all about you-hard to believe this is the first time we''re meeting."

    Jete replied, "I''ve heard Dad talk about you often, too."

    Just a few casual words, and the two seemed as close as real grandfather and granddaughter.

    "All right, let''s head inside," the old man said, not giving Talbot a chance to protest. He motioned for Jete to wheel him in, and they disappeared into the house together.

    Once Scales was gone, Talbot shot Dick a severe re, warning in a low voice, "I haven''t told Dad about your messes yet, but you''d better behave yourself today. If he hears about your sleazy business and gets upset, I''m not letting you off the hook."

    For Scales''s birthday celebration, the Glenwood family had invited half the town''s elite-including Citrine.

    Ever since learning Citrine''s true identity, Talbot had been gued by regret. He''d tried several times to arrange a private meeting to clear up the misunderstanding, but each attempt had been rebuffed.

    He''d sent a formal invitation to Citrine for today''s party, fully expecting she''d decline. To his surprise, she actually showed up.

    When Citrine arrived, Jete was leaning in close to Scales, the two of them whispering like old friends, bonded as if by blood.

    Citrine watched the scene, a faint smile ying at her lips.

    Just then, Jete nced up and caught Citrine''s eye. There was a brief pause, then Jete shed a smug, triumphant grin.

    What an idiot.

    Citrine gave her a single cool look and turned away.

    Most of the guests were Crestwood''s most prominent figures. Citrine''s rise was already local legend, and with CICI Group now a major power, nearly everyone wanted to curry favor with the young chairwoman.

    As soon as Citrine stepped in, a small crowd gathered around.

    "President Carmichael, it''s been too long."

    "President Carmichael, I''ve heard so much about you. What a coincidence running into you here must be fate."

    "President Carmichael, allow me to offer you a toast. If you ever need anything in the medical sector, please consider ourpany."

    Citrine responded graciously, raising her ss to the gathering. "You''re all too kind."

    Just then, Hilda arrived, nked by Monica and Wade.

    "Ms. Saunders is here." The crowd murmured in surprise.

    "The Saunders family never attends these private parties. Who''d have thought the

    family matriarch herself would show up tonight?"

    "I heard

    Saunders and Glenwood had a serious falling out not

    even.

    s she doing here?"

    While the guests whispered, Hilda led Monica and Wade straight to Citrine.

    All three greeted her in unison: "Citrine."

    Citrine nodded to them, calm and collected.

    The onlookers were stunned. "Wait... The CICI Group chairwoman and the Saunders family matriarch know each other?"

    The Saunders family was famous for keeping to themselves; business was strictly business, and personal rtionships were rare. In all the years in Crestwood, no one had ever seen the Saunders family this close to anyone.

    Someone scratched their head, suddenly recalling, "I heard at the

    Opulence Ball, the Saunders

    matriarch actually spoke up for

    President Carmichael. Maybe they

    really are close."

    "And didn''t CICI Group just sign a deal with C. Corp? Those twopanies are working together now."

 Chapter 493

    The moment Hilda caught wind of the murmurs rippling through the crowd, she curved her lips into a gracious smile and addressed everyone without a trace of embarrassment. "Forgive me for showing up uninvited tonight," she said warmly. "I simply admire President Carmichael so much that I couldn''t resist. I hope you''ll all understand."

    After speaking, Hilda turned to Talbot, who stood nearby, and smiled yfully. "President Glenwood, I hope you don''t mind myck of decorum?"

    "Not at all," Talbot replied with a polite but insincere smile. "It''s a pleasure to have President Saunders here-it''s more than I could wish for."

    Without the slightest concern for appearances, Hilda, Monica Wade, and anotherpanion clustered around Citrine,pletely ignoring the Glenwood family patriarch and even Scales, the host. They hadn''t even bothered to bring a gift, making it in as day: tonight, the Saunders family was here to announce their alliance with CICI Group.

    Everyone present was sharp enough to read the room. The Saunders family hade to this party uninvited, and their only intention was to dere their support for CICI Group''s young chairwoman.

    It was clear the Saunders had chosen their side.

    The guests were all seasoned yers. Seeing the Saunders family patriarch so willing to back CICI Group, they were forced to reevaluate Citrine, the eighteen- year-old girl who had built thepany into a juggernaut.

    Across the room, Jete red at Citrine, who was now surrounded by admirers. Her jaw clenched so hard it seemed she might crack a tooth.

    Noticing Jete''s re, Scales followed her gaze, then let out a heartyugh. "Go on, join them. You young folks should mingle and have some fun together."

    Jete hesitated, pressing her lips together. "Grandpa, I''d rather stay here with you."

    He chuckled again. "You''re thoughtful, but I''m just an old man. Keeping mepany is hardly exciting. Besides, all the young people here tonight are from good families. Go, make some friends-it''ll do you good."

    She paused, then nodded. "Alright, Grandpa, I''ll go." With a final nce toward Citrine and her entourage, Jete''s eyes darkened.

    "Go on," Scales urged.

    Leaving Scales'' side, Jete squared her shoulders and made her way toward the group around Citrine.

    She''d overheard Scales earlier: the woman by Citrine''s side was Hilda, the head of the Saunders family, and the two young people behind her were Hilda''s niece and nephew.

    If Citrine could win Hilda''s favor, why couldn''t she?

    With that thought, Jete gged down a waiter and took a ss of wine, then strode toward Hilda with her head held high.

    It was Jete''s first time appearing as a Glenwood in public, and her unfamiliar face drew curious frowns from the crowd.

    "Who''s this girl? I''ve never seen her before."

    "No idea. Maybe she just got back from overseas. She looks new around here."

    Amidst the whispers, Jete fixed her gaze on Hilda and offered a poised, confident smile. "President Saunders, it''s a pleasure to meet you. I''m Jete, granddaughter of the Glenwood family patriarch. Thank you foring to my grandfather''s birthday celebration. May I offer you a toast?"

    Hilda''s eyes narrowed. Wasn''t this the girl who bullied her daughter?

    She immediately recalled the

    information she''d uncovered €

    was same wretched girl tormented her daughter for years.

    So, she came looking for trouble herself.

    had

    Hilda''s gaze turned icy. "Yourst name is Iverson? Aren''t you with the Glenwoods?"

    Jete beamed, utterly pleased with herself. "My father is Dick. I''m the daughter

    he just found and brought home."

    The Glenwoods were the most

    powerful family in Crestwood. Even if Jete wasn''t the patriarch''s daughter, just being a Glenwood was enough to make everyone treat

    her with deference.

    Jete raised her chin, expecting the crowd to shower her with praise. Yet, as

    the seconds ticked by, not a single person responded.

    She could feel the shift in the air-their gazes grew colder, sharper, as if she were something distasteful.

    This wasn''t right. How could things turn out like this?

 Chapter 494

    At that moment, Hilda suddenly spoke up. "Dick?"

    A cold, mockingugh slipped from her lips. "Oh, that''s right. The infamous adopted son of the Glenwood family-the one who can''t do anything right. I heard his business in Havencrest flopped, so he came slinking back to Crestwood, tail between his legs."

    Something else urred to her, and Hilda added, "Didn''t he just make the tabloids recently? That video, wow, what a scandal. People are paying twenty bucks a pop just to see it."

    Jete''s face went pale, but she didn''t dare anger Hilda. In a small, trembling voice, she protested, "President Saunders, please don''t talk about my father like that."

    As she spoke, Jete looked to Citrine, who was watching the scene unfold with cool detachment. Jete pointed at her, desperation in her voice. "None of it''s true! It''s her-she''s the one who''s spreading these lies!"

    "President Saunders, don''t let her fool you! You don''t know what she''s really like. Citrine used to be the Iverson family''s adopted daughter-she''s my sister. She''s always been maniptive. All my life, she''s set me up again and again. When we were little, she almost set the house on fire with me inside!" Jete''s eyes pleaded with Hilda, her voice quivering as she tried to win her over.

    She didn''t notice how Hilda''s gaze grew colder with every word.

    A split secondter, Hilda grabbed a fistful of Jete''s hair and yanked hard. Her voice was sharp as a de. "Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about her."

    It was clear Jete hade here gunning for her sister. Monica and Wade, watching from the side, exchanged looks of utter disgust. Honestly, they were starting to look forward to what would happen next.

    Aunt Hilda never tolerated anyone insulting her little sister. Jete was as good as finished.

    Then, in full view of the crowd, Hilda calmly raised her wine ss.

    No one knew what she was nning-until a momentter, when she poured the entire ss of red wine straight over Jete''s head.

    Jete, caked in heavy makeup for the asion, was instantly ruined. The wine streaked her face, smearing her makeup until it looked grotesque.

    With her real face exposed, the difference was startling.

    The crowd recoiled in disgust.

    "Wow, she''s hideous without all that makeup."

    "Honestly, I''m fairer-skinned than her-and I''m a guy. I can''t imagine how manyyers she thered on."

    "What a troublemaker. The Glenwoods'' adopted daughter, and she dares to make a scene in front of Ms. Saunders? Some people really don''t know their ce."

    "Her parents'' scandalous videos are all over the inte, and she still has the nerve to show up at a party? No shame at all."

    "With parents like that¡ªmorally bankrupt and shameless¡ªdoes she really not see what she is? The whole family''s just repulsive."

    "Ugh. What a disaster."

    Jete clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. She

    stared at Hilda in disbelief,

    humiliation burning in her eyes. "President Saunders, I''m still Glenwood, no matter what. You can''t treat me like this!"

    The Glenwoods were the most powerful family in Crestwood. How could these

    people act as if the Glenwood name meant nothing?

    Hilda arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "I can''t?"

    She turned and called out, "President Glenwood, do you mind?"

    Talbot offered a thin, amused smile. "Not at all."

    Jete''s eyes widened in shock as she looked at him. "Uncle?"

    Talbot acted as if he hadn''t heard her at all.

    Without another word, Hilda seized Jete''s chin and, in front of

    everyone, pped her across the

    face again and again, until her

    features were almost

    unrecognizable.

    The sound of each p echoed through the hall, drawing curious nces from

    the other guests, but no one dared intervene.

    Even Scales, who''d always doted on Jete, pretended not to notice.

    When she finished, Hilda snatched a wet towel from a passing waiter, wiped her hands with a look of utter disdain, and muttered, "No

    wonder-you really are the proel no

    of two degenerates. Stupid beyond belief."

    s?novel

    "And to think an adopted daughter of the Glenwoods dares bare her fangs at our Citrine."

 Chapter 495

    At that moment, Dick was busy mingling with the crowd, making connections wherever he could.

    Not far away, Aline was deep in conversation with a group of well-dresseddies.

    She sat at the very center of their little circle, basking in their admiration, finally enjoying her moment in the spotlight.

    The Glenwood family was the most powerful household in Crestwood. Even though Dick wasn''t Scales''s biological son-just his adopted child-Scales doted on him. And the Glenwood name alone was enough to open any door. Now that Aline was Mrs. Glenwood, she knew everyone out there would have to call her by that title, whether they liked it or not.

    Aline sat perfectly poised, sipping her champagne as one woman after another came up to toast her and heap on thepliments. If they''d gone any further, they might have praised her all the way back to infancy.

    "Mrs. Glenwood, your skin is just wless-like porcin, honestly."

    "If you have time, Mrs. Glenwood, we should book a spa day together sometime."

    "I absolutely love that ne, Mrs. Glenwood. I''ve had my eye on it for ages, but my husband says it''s too expensive. I wish I had a husband like yours!"

    "Mrs. Glenwood, I heard you have a daughter. Does she have a boyfriend yet?"

    "If not, perhaps she could meet my son sometime?"

    Aline had never experienced this kind of attention before. She made a show of it, ying the part of the prestigious hostess to perfection.

    Just then, a few middle-aged men hurried over. Aline assumed they''de to greet her, so she offered them a gracious smile.

    But the men barely nced her way. Instead, they strode right past her and approached thedies in her circle, grabbing their wives by the arm and pulling them aside.

    In the blink of an eye, Aline was left standing alone.

    Her smile faltered as she tried to make sense of what was happening. She watched as the men, their brows furrowed, whispered urgently to their wives.

    "Honey, have you lost your mind? Why are you hanging around with her? Did you not see the headlinesst week?"

    "How could you associate with people like that? That couple is nothing but trouble. We need to steer clear, or we''ll be theughingstock of Crestwood. Let''s go."

    "Sweetheart, her daughter just got on the wrong side of the Saunders family. We can''t afford to be anywhere near her. Come on, let''s leave."

    One man, red-faced with fury, jabbed his finger at his wife and barked, "I brought you to this party to learn something, not to make friends with the bottom of the barrel. If the §Ö Saunders family finds out we''ve been mingling with people like her, and we lose their business, I swear you''ll regret it."

    His wife ducked her head, murmuring apologies. "I''m sorry, darling. I just thought, well, since she''s Mrs. Glenwood now, it would be good to know her. I didn''t mean to cause any trouble for you."

    The women, realizing just how much trouble they might have brought home, all looked stricken. Each one shot Aline a withering re before hurrying away after their husbands.

    Aline''s face went white as a sheet. She barely understood what had just happened, but she''d caught a few words about her daughter in the flurry of whispers.

    Had Jete gotten into trouble?

    Panic flickered in Aline''s eyes. She set her ss down and went off in search of her daughter.

    She scoured the room, but there was no sign of Jete. Then, at the center of a growing crowd, she finally caught sight of her. Aline hurriedover, intending to ask what was going on, but as she drew closer, her heart sank.

    Jete stood at the center of the crowd, her cheeks swollen and red, a smear of blood on her lips. Red wine dripped from her hair, staining her white dress a garish crimson. She looked utterly humiliated.

    Aline''s face nched. She pushed through the crowd and rushed to her daughter''s side.

    She grabbed Jete''s shoulders, her voice trembling. "Jete, what happened to you?"

 Chapter 496

    Jete just cried, refusing to say a word.

    Aline finally looked up and noticed Citrine standing off to the side, feigning indifference.

    Pointing at Citrine, Aline snapped, "It was you, wasn''t it? Why did you bully Jete?"

    Citrine smirked, about to reply, but Hilda stepped forward before she could get a word in.

    With a sly, mocking smile, Hilda sauntered over to Aline. "Bully? Do you even know what that means?"

    She scoffed. "Besides, the one who bullied Jete was me."

    Without another word, Hilda drove the sharp heel of her stiletto straight down on Aline''s foot, grinding it mercilessly.

    Aline screamed, the pain piercing through her. She tried to shove Hilda away, but Hilda didn''t budge¡ªinstead, she pressed her heel down even harder.

    Jete watched in horror, wringing her hands in helpless panic. The stinging pain on her own face reminded her just how terrifying Hilda was; she didn''t dare say a word, let alone step forward.

    Hilda never even blinked. Watching Aline writhe in pain filled her with twisted satisfaction.

    How dare they bully her daughter? She''d make sure they paid for it.

    She smiled coldly. "I''m not just going to bully your daughter-I''m going to bully you, too."

    Aline and Jete-this troublesome mother and daughter-she''d been looking for an excuse to deal with them, and now they''d delivered themselves right to her doorstep.

    It looked like attending the Glenwoods'' gathering tonight was the right choice after all.

    Aline''s anguished screams echoed through the grand foyer, making everyone present shudder.

    In Crestwood, everyone knew Hilda Saunders, matriarch of the Saunders family, was infamous as the "Iron Lady"-ruthless, vindictive, and never one to let a slight go unpunished. But tonight was the first time many had witnessed her ferocity firsthand.

    Quiet relief swept through the crowd-thank God none of them had ever crossed this woman, or it could just as easily have been them on the receiving end.

    At the sound of Aline''s howling, Hilda''s eyes shed with disdain.

    "Shut up, you pathetic creature. You''re giving me a headache," she said irritably, frowning.

    All that ruckus over a single stomp-how would she ever survive if Hilda truly decided to torment her?

    Realizing just how dangerous Hilda was, Aline immediately fell silent.

    Satisfied, Hilda finally lifted her foot.

    Aline copsed to the floor, trembling. Jete rushed to her side.

    "Mom, are you okay?" Jete''s voice trembled as she stared at the bloody gash

    across Aline''s foot, her own face pale as chalk.

    Aline could only grit her teeth, too overwhelmed by pain to speak.

    At that moment, Citrine walked over and crouched down in front of them.

    She reached out, gripping Aline''s

    chin, and spoke softly, ¡°Aline, Jete-do you still think I''m that helpless little nobody you used to push around?"

    Her lips curled into a half-smile. "Need I remind youdies that I''m now the chairwoman of CICI Group? Next time you open your mouths, I suggest you use your brains first."

    Aline and Jete froze, their eyes flickering with a mix of shock and unease.

    Of course they''d both forgotten. Citrine was no longer that powerless orphan. Now, she was the head of a major corporation.

    Thinking back to what they''d just said, both mother and daughter felt a chill run down their spines as they looked at Citrine.

    Citrine noticed every flicker of emotion on their faces. Her smile deepened, suddenly bright and mocking. "Pathetic. That''s all it takes to scare you?"

    Jete bristled, unwilling to back down. She shouted, "So what if you''re CICI Group''s president? My mother and I have the Glenwood family behind us!"

    "The Glenwoods?" Citrine arched an eyebrow. Then tell me-when you were getting pped around just now, where was your great uncle, the Glenwood patriarch? Why didn''t he step in to help you?"

    Jete''s na?ve words almost made Citrineugh outright.

 Chapter 497

    Jete stood there, her face drained of color, unable to muster even a single word in response.

    But Citrine wasn''t finished with her-not by a long shot.

    With a cold smile, Citrine looked Jete straight in the eye and twisted the knife

    a little deeper. "You''ve always been obsessed withpeting with me, Jete. But honestly, have you ever realized we''re just not on the same level?" She tapped her temple for emphasis.

    Then, making a show of it, Citrine held one hand high above her head and the other down by her waist. "Face reality, Jete. I''m up here, and you... you''re still down there. You were never even on my radar."

    She let out a lowugh before continuing, "Now I''m a top student at Crestwood University, a bestselling author, the CEO of CICI Group. My reputation precedes me, and my future''s bright. But you? You bombed your exams, ended up at some no-name college, haven''t picked up a single useful skill, and spend your nights drifting from one club to the next. Jete, your life''s already half ruined. Honestly, I''m anxious for you-what on earth are you going to do with yourself?" As she finished, Citrine''s lips curled into a taunting smile.

    Every wordnded like a punch to Jete''s gut.

    She clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white, a sudden wave of fear washing over her.

    She couldn''t stand the thought of living in Citrine''s shadow for the rest of her life¡ª she wanted nothing more than to crush Citrine under her heel.

    Citrine, satisfied, gave onest smirk before strolling away.

    People nearby, who had been shamelessly eavesdropping, whispered among themselves about the mother and daughter duo before finally dispersing.

    Afterward, Citrine approached a waiter and requested a ss of red wine. With the wine in hand and a glint in her eye, she headed toward another hall.

    Inside, four men sat around a long table, deep in discussion over something important.

    Without hesitation, Citrine walked straight toward them. As she drew closer, she overheard Dick''s booming voice: "Mr. Walker, Mr. Taylor, Mr. Rogers, I promise you-invest with us and by this time next year, you''ll be swimming in profits.¡±

    At that, Citrine couldn''t help but let out augh, covering her mouth with slender fingers.

    The men turned, startled by the sound, only to see Citrine standing there.

    Ever since the Opulence Ball, Citrine''s face had be well-known among the city''s elite.

    The CEO of CICI Group was no ordinary figure. The three men immediately rose to their feet, each one treating her with a mix of respect and deference, their voices tinged with admiration:

    "I''ve heard so much about President Carmichael-it''s an honor to finally meet you in person."

    "President Carmichael, your reputation precedes you."

    "President Carmichael, pleasure to meet you."

    They greeted her one by one, and Citrine responded graciously.

    Dick, on the other hand, went pale as soon as he recognized Citrine. Memories from the past surged up-the blinding pain of a knife.

    months spent bedridden, every day inthe hospital pure torment.

    stabbing through his thigh,

    Citrine, by contrast, looked utterly unfazed to see him, even greeting him with a bright smile. "Mr. Glenwood, don''t tell me you''ve forgotten! You used to give me piano lessons, remember?"

    She continued, her tone yful, "I''m quite the pianist these days, all thanks to you. I really ought to pay you back."

    Dick''s face nched. His voice trembled as he stammered, "What are you nning to do?"

    He couldn''t hide the fear in his voice-this girl was absolutely unhinged.

    The memory of that stabbing still haunted him, every second in the hospital a living nightmare.

    Citrine watched his cowardice with a flicker of disdain in her eyes. "Rx, Mr. Glenwood. I misspoke. Not pay you back-thank you. I owe you a BIG thank you." She deliberately emphasized thest words.

    Dick''s whole body shuddered. The chill in her tone sent a shiver down his spine.

    The other three men looked at each other, surprised that Citrine and Dick apparently knew each other.

    Mr. Walker let out a heartyugh. "Well, President Carmichael, Mr. Glenwood, sounds like you two go way back!"

    Dick just sat there in silence, while Citrine grinned. "Oh yes, old friends."

    She turned her attention to Mr.

    Walker, Mr. Taylor, and Mr. Rogers, feigning curiosity. "By the way, I couldn''t help overhearing something

    ve

    about a new venture. Are you nning to start apany together?"

    Mr. Walker, never one for subtlety, answered without hesitation, "That''s right!

    Didn''t expect President Carmichael to catch that."

 Chapter 498

    As soon as he finished speaking, he added, "But actually, it''s not us forming thepany-it''s Mr. Glenwood. He''s nning to start a new venture and invited us to buy in."

    Why does this fool have to spill everything? How did an idiot like this ever end up as CEO of The Walker Group?

    Dick''s face grew darker by the second as he listened from the sidelines.

    When Mr. Walker spoke up, Mr. Taylor and Mr. Rogers exchanged a quick nce and chimed in with polite smiles. "Exactly, just as Mr. Walker said."

    At that moment, Citrine suddenly put on an exaggerated look of shock. "You''re all nning to invest in Mr. Glenwood''s newpany?"

    Noticing Citrine''s expression, Walker, Taylor, and Rogers all turned to her at once. "What''s wrong, President Carmichael? Why do you look so surprised?"

    By now, Dick realized something was off. He stared straight at Citrine, momentarily forgetting the fear she''d put in him earlier. As she started to speak, he cut her off harshly, his face twisted in anger. "Shut up, you bitch! What are you trying to pull?"

    Citrine''s eyes widened in feigned innocence. "Bitch? Mr. Glenwood, are you talking about me?"

    Dick spat, "I''m talking about you, all right. I''m warning you don''t ruin this for me, or you''ll regret it."

    Citrine shed a sudden, bright smile. "That''s really unfair. My reputation online has always been spotless. If you say something like that, Mr. Glenwood, you''re the one at fault."

    She leaned in, her voice syrupy sweet. "Actually, if I remember right, that word suits you pretty well. After all, what decent man would sleep with his ownpany''s talent? And let''s be honest, Mr. Glenwood, you''ve never been satisfied with just one at a time. So if anyone here deserves thatbel, it''s you."

    Something seemed to ur to her, and her tone turned yful. "Oh, wait-I shouldn''t even call you Mr. Glenwood anymore. Word is, Talbot Glenwood already kicked you out of Glenwood Group. You''re nobody now, aren''t you?"

    "You-" Dick''s eyes bulged. He never expected Citrine to air his dirtyundry in front of everyone. His whole body trembled with rage, but he couldn''t get a single word out.

    "What?" Mr. Walker blurted, looking stunned. "Mr. Glenwood got thrown out of Glenwood Group by Talbot Glenwood?"

    Mr. Taylor and Mr. Rogers were equally shocked, their faces mirroring Walker''s disbelief.

    Citrine nodded with a cheerful smile. "That''s right. Haven''t you heard?

    Ever since that little video of Mr. Glenwood and Mrs. Glenwood went viral online, Talbot Glenwood stripped him of his position as

    branch president."

    In an instant, the three executives'' gazes toward Dick shifted. There was no trace

    of the respect they''d shown him earlier-only contempt now, and not even a hint of pretense.

    Mr. Walker''s voice was icy and furious. "Mr. Glenwood, I can''t believe you lied to us. That''s

    straightforward and had no

    tolerance for dishonesty.

    The other two didn''t speak, but their anger was clear as day.

    Dick''s face was ashen, his hands clenched so tightly that his nails nearly dug into his palms.

    Now the three turned to Citrine, their tone sincere. "President Carmichael, thank you for telling us the truth."

    "It was nothing," Citrine replied, ncing at them once more. Her expression was serious. "Mr. Walker, Mr. Taylor, Mr. Rogers, I do want to remind you-back in the day, Dick swindled plenty of investorsin Havencrest, ruining more than a few families. That scandal was the talk of the entire city. You can still find records of it now. If you''re considering a partnership, I''d urge you to think twice."

    The three exchanged a firm nod with Citrine, then turned to Dick. "We''re done discussing any potential partnership."

    At first, they''d assumed Citrine and Dick were old friends, maybe even close. But after witnessing this exchange, it was clear-they weren''t just acquaintances. They were enemies.

    If nothing else, today made one thing certain: President Carmichael hade here for one reason to stop them from joining forces with Dick.

    And frankly, the fact that Dick had tried to hide his dismissal proved he was thest person they could trust. There was no way they''d ever work with someone like that.

    Besides, CICI Group was the rising star of Crestwood''s business scene. Making an enemy of them would be a colossal mistake.

    So no matter what Dick said, there was no chance they were investing today.

 Chapter 499

    Once the other three had left, only Citrine and Dick remained in the room.

    Dick red at her, his face dark with rage, looking as if he wanted to tear her apart. "You wretched bitch," he spat, "first you leak dirt on my family, and now you''ve sabotaged my deal. Do you really think I won''t kill you?"

    His anger contorted his features into something almost grotesque. He raised his hand, clearly intent on striking her across the face.

    Citrine didn''t even flinch. She simply watched Dick, unblinking, as if daring him to try.

    But just as his palm was about to connect, she grabbed his wrist and twisted hard.

    There was a sickening crack-so fast Dick barely registered what had happened before a wave of agony shot up his arm. It felt as though his bones had shattered.

    "Ah-let go!" Dick howled, his face screwing up in pain.

    "And you think you can kill me?" Citrine scoffed, as if she''d just heard the punchline to a bad joke. "Please."

    She released his hand with a look of distaste, pulling a small bottle of sanitizer from her purse and meticulously cleaning her hands, her expression finally rxing once she''d wiped away every trace of him.

    Dick clutched his arm, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. "What the hell do you mean by that?" he gritted out, trying to mask his confusion with bravado.

    Citrine shrugged, lips curving into a smirk. "After tonight, you''ll be kicked out of the Glenwood family for good. What do you have left to threaten me with?"

    A flicker of dread crossed Dick''s face. "What are you nning?" he demanded, suddenly uneasy. He had the sinking feeling she was about to pull something else.

    She let out a low, chillingugh that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

    Then, locking eyes with him, she changed the subject. "Dick, do you remember what it felt like when your thigh was stabbed through?"

    She stepped closer, her tone almost yful, though there was nothing warm in her eyes. In this moment, her gaze mirrored the one she''d worn years ago-right before she''d driven a knife into his leg.

    Dick instinctively backed away, swallowing hard as fear flickered in his eyes. He''d nearly died at her hands once before. There was no way he could ever forget.

    Seeing the fear in him, Citrine''s lips curled in contempt.

    vel

    With onest nce, she spoke quietly, her words dripping with promise, ¡°Dick, from now on, I''l make sure every single day of your life is... interesting."  fo

    With that, she strode away in her heels, each step ringing out sharply across the floor, her gait light and triumphant.

    A few minutester, guests began approaching the old man to wish him a happy birthday, each presenting their gifts.

    Citrine had always loathed the Glenwood family, so she''d delegated the entire gift business to Carlotta. She hadn''t bothered to check what was in the box, nor did she care.

    After handing over her gift, Citrine was about to leave when a surprisedmotion broke out nearby.

    Excited voices rose from the crowd.

    "Wait a second-Vitaflux? Am I seeing this right?"

    "Ms. Iverson is so generous! She actually gave Vitaflux as a gift!"

    "That''s practically impossible to get! Ms. Iverson must have some incredible connections to secure something that rare."

    All eyes were on the small box in Jete''s hands, their earlier disdain forgotten, reced by eager curiosity and newfound respect.

    Even Talbot and his son, who had previously stood by and watched Jete get bullied, now sprang to their feet.

    Talbot addressed Jete in earnest. "Jete, Vitaflux is beyond priceless. How on earth did you manage to get your hands on it?"

    Jete smiled politely. "Uncle, it was a gift from a friend."

    She went on to exin, "Before I came, heard Grandpa Scales hadn''t been well and had been searching for Vitaflux. That''s why I decided to give it to him as a birthday gift.¡±

 Chapter 500

    When Jete mentioned her "friend," everyone assumed she was talking about the person selling Vitaflux. Even Scales and the Talbots thought the same. The way people looked at Jete shifted-some with surprise, some with newfound respect.

    Before this, Jete was just the Glenwood family''s adopted daughter¡ªa girl on the periphery. But now, with these kinds of connections, suddenly everyone had to take her seriously. Some even felt the need to show her a little more courtesy.

    After all, no one could guarantee their own family would never face illness. If the day ever came when they needed Vitaflux, Jete might be their only hope.

    Talbot turned to Jete, his demeanor transformed into that of a doting uncle. "Jete, I never realized you had such resourcefulness. I''ve clearly

    underestimated you. You''re not angry with me, are you?"

    He was nothing like the cold, dismissive man from before.

    Talbot''s sudden change of heart made Jete nearly giddy. She shook her head politely, putting on her most gracious smile. "Of course not. We''re family-how could I ever be angry with you, Uncle?"

    She could hardly believe it¡ªa single Vitaflux pill had managed to turn everyone''s attitude around. Jete''s lips curled in satisfaction, a sense of triumph bubbling up inside her.

    Just then, Scales stepped forward, taking Jete''s hand and giving it a gentle, affectionate pat. "You''re a good girl. So thoughtful."

    She nced at Dick and Aline and added, "From now on, you and your parents should move in with the Glenwood family."

    Jete was stunned-she could hardly believe what she was hearing.

    When she didn''t respond right away, Scales pressed her gently. "Well? You don''t want to?"

    Jete quickly nodded. "I do, I do! Grandpa, I''d love that."

    Moving in with the Glenwoods meant she''d finally be treated the same as Theo and Kali. Why would she ever refuse?

    With that, Jete closed the box in her hands and offered it to Scales as a birthday gift.

    But suddenly, a pair of hands swooped in from nowhere and snatched the box away.

    Both Jete and Scales froze, shock written all over their faces.

    Everyone in the room was caught off guard, their eyes darting to Citrine, who now stood to the side with the box in her grasp.

    Talbot''s brow furrowed in annoyance. "President Carmichael, what''s the meaning of this?"

    He added, "We all know how valuable Vitaflux is, but that doesn''t mean you can just grab it out of someone''s hands!"

    Jete, still reeling from Citrine''s

    move, found herself strangely delighted. She''d been hoping to see Citrine embarrass herself in front of everyone, and now it seeme@her wish hade true.

    She quickly echoed Talbot. "Exactly! I know you''re the CEO of CICI Group,

    gou can''t just snatch the Group,

    but

    gift I''m giving to my grandfather!"

    Hilda and Monica exchanged worried nces, concern etched on their faces as they watched Citrine.

    Hilda was about to scold Jete, but Citrine suddenly let out a quietugh.

    Jete shot her a re. "What''s so funny?"

    Citrine didn''t answer right away. Instead, she fixed Jete with

    cool almost amused look. "Weet

    You get this Vitaflux, Jete?"

    Jete''s confidence swelled. "Didn''t you hear me just now? A friend gave it to me."

    She reached out, trying to take the box back. "Now hand it over."

    But Citrine dodged her easily, not even breaking a sweat.

    Her gaze turned colder. "Jete, if you can clearly exin where this came from, I''ll give it back."

    She leaned in, pressing further. "You say it''s from a friend? Which friend? What''s their name?"

 Chapter 501

    What on earth is this woman ying at?

    Jete Iverson frowned, her tone defensive. "Why should I have to prove anything to you? Besides, my friend doesn''t want anyone to know she gave me this Vitaflux. If I told you her name, how could I face her after?"

    She sniffled, eyes glistening. "Just because you''re President of CICI Group now, does that mean I owe you some exnation?" As she spoke, tears began to spill down her cheeks, making her look even more aggrieved.

    The moment Jete started crying, the mood in the room shifted. Several guests exchanged uneasy nces, their expressions toward Citrine Carmichael growing moreplicated by the second.

    A few people, unable to bear the tension, even risked offending both CICI Group and C. Corp by speaking up for Jete.

    "President Carmichael, I think Ms. Iverson has a point. If her friend wants to keep her privacy, that''s only natural. Considering her friend might be the source of the Vitaflux, exposing her could cause unnecessary trouble."

    "That''s right, President Carmichael. Pressuring Ms. Iverson to reveal her friend''s identity feels a bit harsh."

    "President Carmichael, look-Ms. Iverson''s in tears. Why not just give the Vitaflux back to her? After all, it was meant as a birthday gift for Dick''s father, Mr. Scales Glenwood. It wouldn''t be appropriate for you to keep it."

    "It''s Mr. Glenwood''s birthday celebration today, after all. Maybe let''s not make things more awkward for him."

    One after another, voices rose in Jete''s defense, and the atmosphere grew more strained and ufortable with every passing second.

    Hilda Saunders, watching her daughter being wronged, felt her patience snap. She didn''t care who was right or wrong; all she knew was that nobody could make her precious daughter upset.

    Without warning, Hilda stormed forward, grabbing one of the men-Mr. Carter- by the cor. She jabbed a finger at the others, her voice icy. "Mr. Carter, and the rest of you¡ªif any of you say another word, you''re making enemies with C. Corp. Is that what you want?"

    Monica and Wade Saunders, Hilda''s niece and nephew, rushed to her side, desperately trying to defuse the situation.

    "Aunt Hilda, please, calm down," Monica pleaded.

    "Out of my way." Hilda, still fuming, shoved them aside and continued ring daggers at the guests, her anger undiminished.

    Those who had done business with

    C. Corp or sat at the negotiation

    table with Hilda Saunders before

    table with

    line

    had never seen her like this. Normally, President Saunders all business-sharp, shrewd, and ruthlessly logical. But now, it was as if she were a different person, all because of Citrine.

    It dawned on the guests that the rtionship between President Saunders and President Carmichael might be far closer than anyone had guessed.

    Monica and Wade, realizing they couldn''t restrain Hilda, cast a helpless look toward Citrine.

    Citrine understood at once and walked calmly over to them. She gently pried Hilda''s fingers from Mr. Carter''s cor, one by one.

    Hilda was ready to unleash another tirade, but when she turned and saw her daughter, she fell silent at once.

    "Let go," Citrine said softly.

    Hilda, obedient as a child, immediately released her grip.

    Citrine pulled her mother to her side and turned to the ashen-faced Mr. Carter. "I''m sorry about that, Mr. Carter," she said politely, then led Hilda back to their seats.

    She patted Hilda''s hand and whispered, "Don''t lose your temper."

    "I''ll listen to you," Hilda replied, looking up at her daughter with such earnestness that Citrine couldn''t help butugh.

    Once Hilda had calmed down,

    Citrine addressed the room in a

    clear, steady voice. "The reason I asked MS. Iverson for proof is because that Vitaflux isn''t just any pill. It''s the one I gave to someone else as a gift. Ms. Iverson is a thief-she stole the Vitax I gave away."

    The Glenwood family and the rest of

    the guests stared at Citrine in

    stunned silence, no one having

    expected such a dramatic twist. All eyes immediately swung to Jete Iverson.

 Chapter 502

    Talbot Glenwood frowned. "Jete, is that true? Just like she said?"

    Jete shook her head quickly. "No, Uncle. Absolutely not."

    She turned to Citrine, her voice sharp with indignation. "These Vitaflux capsules all look the same! How can you im the one I have is the exact one you gave away? That''s a baseless usation."

    A murmur of agreement rippled through the room; several people nodded, seeing

    her point.

    A man in a crisp suit stepped forward. "She''s right, President Carmichael. Ms. Iverson has a point-every Vitaflux out there looks identical. Even if you did give one away, there''s no way to say for sure this is the same one."

    Citrine met his gaze and offered a calm, confident smile. "Ms. Iverson keeps insisting this Vitaflux was a gift from a friend, but she hasn''t provided a single scrap of evidence. I, on the other hand, do have proof that this one belongs to me."

    As she finished, Citrine handed the Vitaflux case directly to the skeptical man. Confused but obliging, he epted it.

    Citrine addressed him politely. "Would you be willing to serve as a witness today, sir?"

    Then, raising her voice so everyone could hear, she dered, "There are four digits engraved on the underside of this Vitaflux: 0156."

    At once, the man opened the box and carefully lifted the capsule. Sure enough, the numbers 0156 were etched exactly as Citrine described.

    He looked up, astonished, and announced to the crowd, "President Carmichael is right. There are four numbers engraved here-0156.¡±

    He turned to Jete, his expression hardening with disappointment. ¡°Ms. Iverson, I can''t believe I just defended you. I didn''t expect you''d stoop this low."

    How is this possible? How could that wretch, Citrine, have known about the numbers?

    Jete''s face drained of color, then flushed red with humiliation.

    She forced herself to recover, tossing out a retort. "Just because you know the number doesn''t mean anything Those numbers could be a batch@ode-of course capsules made at the same time would have the same code."

    Her argument seemed to sway the room again; people''s eyes flickered back to Citrine, uncertainty in the air.

    For a moment, Citrine said nothing.

    Then suddenly, she burst outughing, as if she''d just heard the world''s most absurd joke. ¡°Oh,e on, Jete! Did you eat too many expired snacks as a kid? Do you honestly think Vitaflux is

    §Ú§Þ

    mass-produced like candy at a supermarket?"

    She exined, "That''s not a batch code. Those numbers are a serial number- 0156 means this is the 156th capsule taken from myb. That''s all."

    "Oh, so you say it''s a serial number, and we''re just supposed to believe you?" Jete was shaking with rage, her face alternating between red and pale.

    Citrine shot her a cold look. "So you''re just going to keep lying, huh? ying the shameless little thief? Fine. If you won''t admit it, I''ll show everyone the evidence."

    She pulled out her phone from her purse.

    "Pay close attention, everyone."

    She turned the screen to the crowd and opened the official website for the world''s top medical research authority, logging into the private portal reserved for senior researchers.

    Before their eyes, she verified her identity with a facial scan, then pulled up the Vitaflux research report from her personal files.

    Everyone crowded closer, eyes widening as they read the document. It clearly listed Citrine as the lead researcher,plete with her photo.

    She tapped another tab, bringing up a detailed inventory log. "This capsule is the 156th I''ve personally distributed. I engraved the number myself before it left myb-the system records confirm it. It''s all here: the capsule, the serial number, and the proof it was a gift from me."

 Chapter 503

    Everyone''s eyes widened as they stared at Citrine''s phone, checking the screen over and over, hardly daring to believe what they were seeing.

    The official website of the World Medical Association was globally recognized as the most authoritative tform for medical research. It even had a special portal for top-level researchers from each country, protected by facial recognition-far more secure than a simple password, designed to keep out hackers and frauds.

    Now, right in front of everyone, Citrine tapped her way through the security checks and logged in. The room fell utterly silent. For a moment, nobody even breathed. The looks on their faces ranged from shock and awe to admiration and regret- but not a single person dared question her.

    After all, this was a top-tier researcher on the world''s most prestigious medical tform. Never mind that Citrine herself had pioneered Vitaflux-a miracle drug that had taken the world by storm. Anything else she''d worked on could probably make headlines across the globe.

    She was the CEO of CICI Group and a principal investigator for the World Medical Association. Either title on its own would have been impressive enough to make anyone nervous.

    Nobody in their right mind would want to get on her bad side.

    God, what had they just said to her?

    Those who had just leapt to Jete''s defense now looked like they wished the floor would swallow them whole.

    At that moment, the witness who''d been holding the Vitaflux stepped forward. He shot Jete a look full of disgust, then quickly turned to Citrine, nodding ingratiatingly before raising his voice to address the crowd.

    "I admit it¡ªI waspletely blind just now. I owe President Carmichael a sincere apology. She was right all along. Jete is nothing but a thief."

    Once he spoke up, the others scrambled to join in.

    "He''s right. The report spells it out-President Carmichael is the lead researcher on Vitaflux. And she even has the official inventory records, which clearly show that on October 25th, this exact batch of Vitaflux was given as a gift."

    "It''s obvious-Jete must have stolen it. Otherwise, how could she possibly have it in her possession?"

    "We''re so sorry, President Carmichael. We used you without cause. Please don''t hold it against us."

    "President Carmichael, I feel terrible. I''ll visit you personally to apologize another day."

    "President Carmichael, I hope you''ll forgive us for overstepping."

    One by one, voices chimed in, all scrambling to distance themselves from Jete and curry favor with Citrine.

    Jete''s face had gone ashen. She looked stricken, barely holding herself together as she shouted at the crowd, "How do you even know her research report is real? I''ve never even heard of this so-called official website. Aren''t reports like this the easiest thing in the world to fake?"

    She couldn''t understand how a simple report had managed to convince everyone sopletely.

    No sooner had Jete blurted this out than the entire room turned to stare at her, their expressions a mix of shock, disdain, and outright contempt.

    Someone piped up, "Pardon me, Ms. Iverson, but may I ask-what university did you attend?"

    Jete tensed, uncertain why he was asking. Thinking of her not-so-prestigious alma mater, she bit her lip and answered in a small voice, "Crestwood Arts Academy."

    The man snorted, barely stifling augh. He covered his mouth, as if he''d just heard the world''s best joke. "Well, that exins it. Graduating from @third-rate art school, it''s no wonder you don''t know even the most basic facts."

    "Let me educate you. First, the World Medical Association website is the real deal there''s nothing more reputable in the medical field.

    Second, faking credentials as a lead researcher on that site? That''s grounds for prison time."

    The crowd erupted inughter.

    "Unbelievable! She doesn''t even know this? My ten-year-old could tell you that."

    "Did art school rot your brain, Ms. Iverson? These are basic facts anyone should know!"

    "She called the World Medical Association website a knockoff? What does she do all day-never read, never go online?"

 Chapter 504

    "using me of forgery? That''s rich. What, does President Carmichael want to frame herself now?"

    "Ms. Iverson, you look so refined-I almost thought you were some Ivy League graduate. Turns out you''re just trash from some no-name college. No wonder you''ve got the nerve to stoop to petty theft."

    "The Glenwood family''s the wealthiest in Crestwood, yet here''s a daughter who''s sunk so low she''s stealing like amon thief."

    ...

    As the crowd''s scornful voices echoed through the room, Jete''s face flushed red, then nched pale.

    She had no choice but to resort to her old tactics, bursting into tears and trying to flee, hoping she could avoid the humiliation.

    But this wasn''t the Iverson estate, not anymore. The moment someone noticed Jete trying to bolt, they swiftly blocked her path.

    "Ms. Iverson, you think you can just walk away in silence after what you''ve done? Is that how you take responsibility?"

    Jete, eyes rimmed red and trembling with indignation, snapped back, "Then what do you want from me?"

    The person answered matter-of-factly, "When you''ve done something wrong, you apologize. You stole the Vitaflux President Carmichael was nning to give away -don''t you think you owe her an exnation?"

    That Vitaflux had been given to her by Kali Glenwood; she couldn''t possibly admit it. If she did, she''d be making an enemy out of Kali.

    Surrounded by the crowd, Jete had no way out. Gritting her teeth so hard she thought they might shatter, she had no choice but to swallow her pride and apologize.

    Lowering her head, she muttered begrudgingly to Citrine, "I''m sorry. I was wrong."

    Citrine smiled, ying the part of the gracious victor. "As long as you know your mistake, Ms. Iverson. But you really ought to break that habit of pilfering-it reflects poorly on the Glenwood family. People might get the wrong idea about your upbringing."

    She let her gaze drift deliberately over Talbot and Scales.

    Jete''s face twisted with humiliation, but she couldn''t say a word in her own defense.

    Talbot met Citrine''s gaze and instantly understood: he''d justnded on her cklist.

    He decided, right then and there, to me Jete for all of it.

    What an idiot. He''d thought she might be useful, but she was as much a disappointment as her good-for-nothing parents. The whole family was a curse-one disaster after another.

    Not only had today failed to restore his reputation, he''d managed to offend Citrine Carmichael yet again. It was aplete loss.

    Talbot glowered, mentally cursing Jete''s entire family for the thousandth time.

    Across the room, Aline''s heart ached watching her daughter being humiliated. "My Jete isn''t a thief! She would never-"

    She started to rush forward, but Dick Glenwood caught her by the arm, holding her back.

    Aline stared at him in disbelief. "What are you doing? Can''t you see she''s being bullied?"

    Dick''s voice was cold. "Don''t embarrass us any further. She''s already shamed the family enough for one day."

    No matter how much he tried to act the part of

    publicly was a blow to hisel his own daughter mock

    of a man of the house,

    With that, he firmly pulled Aline back.

    SO

    Meanwhile, the man who''d testified earlier came forward, carrying the Vitaflux in its wooden case. He

    approached Citrine re

    "President Carmichael, I''m sorry for what happened earlier. Now that it''s clear you''re both the creator and rightful owner of Vitaflux it''s only right that I return it to you."

    He ced the wooden box in Citrine''s hands.

    Citrine epted it without hesitation.

    Everyone in the room watched her, convinced she was about to hand the Vitaflux to Scales.

    Talbot and Scales stared at her expectantly, both sure that was her next move.

    But Citrine had other ns.

    She opened the box, took out the sleek ck pill, and strode purposefully toward the pond at the center of the hall.

    "What''s President Carmichael doing?" murmured someone, bewildered.

    Before anyone could make sense of it, Citrine did something that left everyone utterly speechless.

 Chapter 505

    In full view of everyone, she walked over to the koi pond and sat down slowly.

    Brilliantly colored koi glided through the water, their scales shing beneath the surface a mesmerizing sight.

    Citrine gazed at the fish, then down at the small ck pill in her palm. Suddenly, a smile curved her lips.

    With a gentle squeeze of her fingers, she crushed the pill, letting the powder and fragments fall into the pond. In an instant, the koi surged forward, jostling each other eagerly for the morsels.

    A collective gasp swept through the crowd as eyes widened in disbelief.

    Talbot and Scales were so shocked they both shot to their feet.

    Scales nearly lost his breath. Pointing a trembling finger at Citrine, he managed, "She... she just fed the Vitaflux to the fish!"

    Not only the Glenwood father and son, but every person present stood in stunned silence.

    "That was Vitaflux! That pill alone is worth a fortune-and she just fed it to the fish?"

    "She may have invented Vitaflux, but that''s just reckless."

    "She could have sold it to us, for heaven''s sake! Why toss it to the koi? My heart can''t take this..."

    By now, Citrine had already left the pond and strolled back to her seat.

    She settledfortably, meeting the eyes of Talbot and Scales, and let out a long sigh. "What a waste."

    The two men stared at her, speechless.

    Citrine''s lips twitched with a hint of mischief as she continued, "I''d actually

    nned to give Ms. Iverson a chance. If she''d just admitted to stealing, I would''ve let it go and handed her the Vitaflux myself."

    She wrinkled her brow, feigning reluctance. "But who could have guessed? Not only did Ms. Iverson refuse to own up, she doubled down, stubborn as ever. It''s infuriating."

    "Even though Ms. Iverson''sst name is Iverson, she''s still a Glenwood. I''m the CEO of CICI

    Group, after all, and today, the

    Glenwoods have done nothing

    push me around. If I handed over the Vitaflux now, what would people think? That anyone can walk all over me?"

    Finally, Citrine said pointedly, "President Glenwood, don''t me me. If you have

    to me someone, me Ms. Iverson."

    With a single sentence, she deftly shifted their fury onto Jete.

    Talbot, furious but helpless, forced a strained smile. "Jete''s one of our own now. In the end, this is our mistake. If anyone deserves me, it''s us, President Carmichael We certainly don''t hold it against you."

    As he finished speaking, both Talbot and Scales shot Jete a look so

    venomous it seemed they might lunge at her then and there.

    Jete met their poisonous stares and recoiled, trembling as she shrank into a corner, too scared to utter a word.

    After the gifts were presented, it was time for the cake.

    Scales, surrounded by guests, was ushered forward to cut the cake. Though his enthusiasm had long since vanished, he couldn''t let it show in front of everyone.

    With a forced smile, he sliced and served the cake to each guest, his movements stiff and mechanical.

    When all the cake had been handed out, Scales returned to his seat among the others.

    In his younger days, Scales had been well-connected, making friends far and wide. Some old friends who couldn''t attend in person had sent in video messages ahead of time.

    Now, the emcee approached Scales. "Mr. Glenwood, would you like to y your friends'' video messages now?"

    Distracted, Scales nodded absently.

    At his signal, the emcee pressed y.

    All eyes turned to the giant screen.

    But the moment the footage began, the room erupted in shock. Some of the younger women, unprepared for what they saw, let out shrill screams and hid their faces in

    embarrassment.

    Scales shouted in panic, "Turn it off! Turn it off, now!"

 Chapter 506

    The host, looking embarrassed, stammered, "Sir, I can''t turn it off-the remote seems to be broken."

    On the giant screen, a flurry of scandalous images filled the room, every one of them damning evidence against Dick and Aline.

    There were photos and videos of Dick tangled up with various women, and just as many of Aline with men. Every shot was worse than thest-enough to make anyone avert their eyes.

    Scales had been in the dark about all of this. Now, as he stared at the screen, his face turned a ghastly shade. He red at Dick, mmed his palm on the table, and demanded, "Dick, is this true, or is someone framing you?"

    Dick opened his mouth, but not a word came out.

    Head hanging, he rushed over and dropped to his knees in front of Scales. "Dad, this is all Citrine''s doing-she set me up¡ª"

    Before Dick could finish, Talbot backhanded him across the face.

    Idiot. Of all the people to cross, he had to pick that one.

    Talbot turned to Scales and said quietly, "Dad, these videos started circting just before your birthday dinner. They''re real. I was afraid the shock would be too much for you, so I tried to keep it from you."

    "Dad, no-" Dick pleaded.

    But Scales didn''t want to hear another word. He struck Dick hard, his voice icy with rage. "You disgrace! You''ve shamed the Glenwood family in front of everyone."

    He shook his head, incredulous. "I must have been blind to ever take in such a wretch. This is the most humiliating day of my life¡ªand it''s all because of an adopted son."

    With a weary sigh, Scales dered, ¡°Dick, get out. From this day forward, you''re no longer part of the Glenwood family. We have nothing to do with you anymore." He''d spoiled this boy, given him chance after chance, but Dick had always let him down-leaving behind mess after mess for him and Talbot to clean up.

    That was bad enough, but now he''d gone and dragged the family name through the mud. Worse still, he''d let himself be caught. Utter fool.

    Time and again, Dick had proven himself hopeless. Now, Scales was done. Thoroughly, irreversibly done.

    Dick stared at Scales in disbelief, resentment burning in his eyes. "Dad, you always loved me

    nel

    most how can you throw me out of the family? You have to be joking, right?"

    He locked eyes with Scales, searching for any hint of hesitation or regret.

    But Scales ignored him. Instead, he addressed everyone in the room. "I ask you all to bear witness-my adopted son Dick has brought sham@upon us, and here and Row, I dere that the Glenwood family is severing all ties with him. From this moment on, Dick''s fate has nothing to do with us."

    He paused, then added, "I''m not feeling well. Please, enjoy yourselves without me."

    With that, he signaled for the staff to help him back to his room.

    e''

    Dick''s face was thunderous as he turned away-only to meet Citrine''s bright, triumphant smile. Her brows I as she shed him a

    almiddle finger.

    And then, Dick suddenly remembered Citrine''s words from earlier.

    "After tonight, you''ll be cast out of the Glenwood family for good."

    In an instant, it all clicked. Everything that had happened tonight had been orchestrated by Citrine.

    First, the family had turned on his daughter. Then his and Aline''s videos had been exposed. And now, he''d been disowned by the old man himself.

    This wretched girl''s n all along was to see his entire family cast out by the Glenwoods.

 Chapter 507

    After Scales left, the guests all turned their greedy eyes toward the koi pond at the center of the room. Yet, for all their longing, no one dared make the first move.

    The man who had testified earlier approached Citrine, a hint of urgency flickering

    in his gaze.

    He asked, carefully, "President Carmichael, may I ask-what happens if the koi eat Vitaflux?"

    Citrine smiled, her voice gentle. "They live longer."

    At that, the man''s eyes lit up. He pressed further, excitement rising in his tone. "Then what if someone eats a koi that''s had Vitaflux?"

    The bustling hall fell silent in an instant.

    No one paid the slightest attention to the emcee on stage, nor to Talbot and his associates. Every eye was fixed on Citrine, waiting for her reply.

    Citrine met their stares with a faint, knowing smile. "If a koi has had a small amount of Vitaflux, and if the Vitaflux hasn''t yet been digested, eating the fish could be an incredible tonic. It might even help cure lingering ailments. But if you''re hoping to cheat death or bring someone back from the brink, that''s impossible."

    The guests'' expressions changed as one. Their eyes burned with renewed fervor as they stared at the koi pond.

    "My grandfather''s had poor health ever since he was injured as a young man. If he could eat one of those koi, maybe he''d finally recover."

    "My wife suffered terribly during childbirth. If I could bring a koi home for her, it''d do wonders."

    "Anyone who doesn''t want this kind of miracle must be out of their mind."

    Everyone had their own schemes brewing, but still, not a single person dared make the first move. After all, the koi belonged to President Carmichael. Even if she''d fed them, snatching them without permission was bad form and probably a good way to make an enemy of her.

    Atst, someone gathered the courage to ask, "President Carmichael, would you mind if we caught a few of your koi to take home?"

    Citrine''s lips curled in a nonchnt smile. ¡°Feel free."

    No sooner had the words left her mouth than the entire crowd surged toward the pond.

    Men and women alike hiked up their formalwear, tossed aside jackets and shoes, and hurled themselves into the water without a second thought.

    The pond wasn''trge, but thepetition was fierce. With so many people thrashing about, it was impossible to see what was happening below the

    surface-catching a koi was pure luck.

    Suddenly, someone let out a whoop of triumph. "I got one! Ha! I caught one!"

    The others looked on in envy, redoubling their efforts.

    High on adrenaline, the lucky guest stuffed the fish into his pocket and dove back into the chaos. With the stakes this high, you could never have too many.

    The scene devolved into utter mayhem.

    Talbot stood frozen. This was his family''s koi, after all. Shouldn''t these maniacs at least check with him first?

    If he didn''t act fast, there wouldn''t be any left.

    He turned to the Glenwood family staff. "You-what are you waiting for? Get in there and grab some!"

    They rushed forward at his

    underestimated the guests''

    determination. The moment they set

    foot in the pond, they were shoved right back out-again and again-until they finally gave up.

    Talbot rolled his eyes. "Useless. I''ll do it myself."

    He charged toward the pond and jumped in.

    The melee below was intense. As soon as hended, the

    crowd barely ncing his

    way-grabbed him by the legs and

    tossed him right back out, then went right on fishing.

    "Ah! My back!" Talbot howled, clutching his side in pain.

    He was no spring chicken. Being thrown around like that, he was lucky he hadn''t thrown his back out for good.

    But no one paid him any mind. Everyst guest was utterly consumed by the hunt for koi¡ªno matter how loudly Talbot screamed, no one even nced his way.

 Chapter 508

    In the end, it was the Glenwood family''s staff who carried Talbot over to a nearby sofa.

    About ten minutester, the Glenwood family''s fish had all been caught. The fish had to be eaten before the effects of Vitaflux wore off, so the lucky guests who managed to catch one hurried over to apologize to Talbot before making their exits. The remaining guests stayed behind at the birthday banquet, casting envious nces at those who were leaving.

    After the chaos finally settled, Theo Glenwood and his sister, Kali, arrived fashionablyte, followed by Hastings Cooper, who was lugging an borate birthday present.

    Ever since Kali''s hospitalization, things between her and Hastings had gone ice- cold, and even Theo''s friendship with Hastings had suffered. The only reason Kali and Theo werete today was because they''d gone to the Cooper family''s estate, where Theo had spent ages convincing Hastings toe to the Glenwoods'' to celebrate the old man''s birthday.

    Kali had no idea what had happened while she was gone. The moment she stepped into the room, she bounded over to Talbot, who was slouched on the sofa, and greeted him with a bright smile. "Dad, where''s Grandpa? It''s such a wonderful day¡ªwhy isn''t he here?"

    "Get off," Talbot snapped coldly.

    His back had already been killing him, and Kali''s enthusiastic hugnded squarely on his sore spot, sending a fresh jolt of pain through him.

    Talbot''s expression darkened, his mood as ck as thunder. He shoved Kali away from him, and she tumbled awkwardly onto the floor.

    Between everything that had happened today and the fact that he hadn''t managed to catch a single fish, Talbot was already at the end of his rope. He certainly wasn''t about to put on a pleasant face for Kali.

    He scowled at her, his voice sharp. "If you''re here, then act like it. Stop making such a scene-have a little dignity, will you?"

    Talbot''s temper was notoriously unpredictable. Kali had assumed that, since it was the old man''s birthday banquet, her father would indulge her. She hadn''t expected to barrel straight into his bad mood.

    She could feel the guests'' eyes on her, some of them openly amused at her embarrassment¡ªespecially Citrine Carmichael, who was among them.

    Kali clenched her fists, her face burning.

    Theo hurried over to help Kali up. "Are you okay?" he asked, worry etched across his face.

    Forcing a smile, Kali replied, "I''m fine. Dad''s just in a bad mood, I get it."

    She nced over at Hastings, who seemed distracted, his gaze locked on something¡ªor rather, someone with an intensity that was almost greedy.

    Following his line of sight, Kali caught sight of Citrine''s profile. Her expression soured instantly.

    "Citrine," Hastings said, unable to hide his excitement as he strode toward her.

    It had been a long time since he''d seen her. He hadn''t expected to run into her here, of all ces.

    Citrine''s face remained impassive as she acknowledged him with a cool, "You''re here too, I see."

    She was about to step away from him, but something seemed to ur to her. She turned back and added "Since you''re here in front of

    l.ne

    everyone, I have something I''d like to ask. The Vitaflux I gave you chow didit end up in Jete''s hands? Did she steal it?" Her tone wasced with biting sarcasm.

    Hastings blinked, caught off guard by the question. He nced at

    Jete, confusion flickeringe

    his face. "You''re saying she has it?"

    He was honestly surprised. He''d given the Vitaflux to Kali; how could it possibly have ended up with Jete?

    Citrine arched an eyebrow. "That''s right. I''m curious-how, exactly, did she end up with it?"

    Hastings pressed his lips together, exining, "I have no idea. Kali''s always been in fragile health, sol gave the Vitaflux to her. As for how

    Jete got her hands on it ''m as clueless as you are."

 Chapter 509

    Everyone present heard every word of the exchange between the two women.

    Kali had listened as well, but what truly surprised her was discovering that the Vitaflux had originallye from Citrine-and that Hastings had given it to her. If Hastings was willing to hand over something as vital as Vitaflux, he must care for

    her deeply.

    A flicker of excitement sparked in Kali''s eyes. She strode over to them and forced a smile at Citrine. "Citrine, please don''t be upset. Hastings only gave me the Vitaflux because I haven''t been welltely-he was just worried about me, that''s all."

    Citrine''s expression soured with annoyance. "Don''t call me ''sister.'' We''re not rted by blood, and today I''m here as the chairwoman of CICI Group. You should address me as President Carmichael. Let''s not pretend we''re family."

    Kali''s face paled, her smile freezing awkwardly. She clenched her jaw, barely managing to choke out, "I''m sorry, President Carmichael."

    If Citrine hadn''t reminded her, Kali might have forgotten that the woman she loathed was now the powerful head of CICI Group. And unfortunately, she couldn''t afford to offend her-not when Talbot was so eager to strike a deal with her.

    Citrine paid her no further attention and pressed on, "So, you gave the Vitaflux to Jete?"

    Kali nodded, owning up to it. "Yes. Jete is still part of our Glenwood family- she''s my sister, after all. I heard her kidneys haven''t been doing well, and her health''s been fragile, so I thought I''d do something kind and pass the Vitaflux on to her."

    Honestly, Citrine had expected Kali to be at least a bit shrewder than Jete, but it turned out she was just as clueless.

    Citrine''s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "So, you gave her the Vitaflux out of sisterly love and concern for her health, is that right?"

    There was something unreadable in Citrine''s eyes. Kali suddenly had a sinking feeling, though she couldn''t say why. Still, she nodded. "Jete is my sister-it''s only natural that I care about her, isn''t it?"

    The guests around them had been listening, and now a murmur of admiration rippled through the hall.

    "Ms. Glenwood really is loyal and kind. Beautiful inside and out-no wonder she''s Crestwood''s leading socialite."

    "The Glenwoods are lucky to have such a generous, family-oriented young woman."

    "I never realized the Glenwood sisters were so close."

    On and on thepliments went, until Citrine suddenly let out augh-sharp and biting.

    "So loyal and kind? That''s rich," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

    The guests turned, puzzled. "What do you mean by that, President Carmichael?"

    Citrine didn''t answer directly.

    Instead, she looked right at Kali and

    asked, "Ms. Glenwood, if I recall correctly your sister Jete was only recently brought back into the family by your uncle Dick. Meanwhile, your grandfather has raised you since you were a child. Tell me, which of the two are you closer to?"

    Kali didn''t understand where Citrine was going, but she replied anyway, a hint of

    irritation in her voice. "Of course I''m closer to my grandfather, President

    Carmichael. Isn''t that obvious?"

    Citrine smiled, undeterred. She

    raised her voice so everyone could hear. "Jete may not be in perfect health, but she''s young-her life isn''t in danger without Vitaflux.

    evel

    Meanwhile, your grandfather''s critically ill and desperately needs Vitaflux to survive. Everyone here knows that. Yet Ms. Glenwood, who ims her grandfather is dearest to her, chose to hand the Vitaflux to Jete instead. Such a dutiful granddaughter."

    Her words hung in the air, crystal clear. The guests'' gazes shifted, their looks

    toward Kali turning strange, even suspicious.

    Kali realized btedly what was happening, her face draining of color.

    "That''s not¡ªI didn''t mean it like that!" she protested, panic rising in her voice.

    Citrine gave a cool, dismissive smile. "Regardless of your intentions, you knew your grandfather needed Vitaflux to survive, yet you withheld it and gave it to a sister who only just rejoined the family. By any measure, that''s not just ack of loyalty¡ªit''s downright ungrateful."

 Chapter 510

    Citrine continued, her tone unwavering. "The Glenwood family took you in, gave you a name, status, and a life offort. After everything they''ve done for you, your actions are nothing short of heartless. Frankly, calling you ungrateful would be letting you off easy."

    A hush fell over the guests. In just a few seconds, the admiration they''d felt for Kali turned to open contempt.

    "Everyone says Ms. Glenwood isn''t just a top student, but the most sought-after socialite in Crestwood-had all the city''s rich heirs eating out of her hand. Turns out, she''s not just calcting, but downright vicious."

    "I can''t imagine what the Glenwood family was thinking, taking in someone so ungrateful."

    "She''d rather give life-saving medication to a sister she barely knows, without any blood rtion, than to her own grandfather. Honestly, what kind of granddaughter does that?"

    "I heard Mr. Glenwood adored her, gave her anything she wanted. If he realized his precious granddaughter would rather save someone else than him, it''d break his heart."

    "Even a dog knows to be grateful. The Glenwood heiress is worse than a dog."

    "I always thought the Glenwood heiress was Crestwood''s leadingdy, with impable character. Well, consider the illusion shattered."

    "If you ask me, neither of the Glenwood sisters is worth much. One''s a heartless ingrate, the other lets us all think she has ess to Vitaflux''s resources, when in fact it was Kali who sent the gift in the first ce."

    Kali had been groomed by the Glenwoods to perfection-music,nguages, etiquette, academics-she excelled at them all. From an early age, she''d been the role model every girl in Crestwood aspired to, yet none could match.

    The older generation adored her, and more than a few of Crestwood''s young heirs had fallen under her spell, idolizing her as their unattainable muse.

    But in this moment, her reputation among the elders was in tatters, and the pedestal she''d stood on in the hearts of those young men crumbled to dust.

    Kali never imagined that a single misstep would cost her so dearly. She nced desperately at Talbot, hoping for help, but he averted his eyes coldly, refusing even to look at her.

    Suddenly, she sensed a gaze fixed on her from above. She looked up, and her heart plunged-there, on the second-floor balcony, sat Scale''s, who had been watching the entire spectacle unfold.

    Scales had been seated upstairs for some time and had witnessed everything. Now, as he looked at the granddaughter he''d cherished most, his disappointment was unmistakable; all warmth had drained from his eyes.

    ''we''

    The Glenwood family might be under Talbot''s control, but Scales still held a significant share of the estate-enough that even Talbot had to treat him with respect.

    Citrine had always known that Kali and Dick''s brazen behavior was tolerated only because Scales favored them so much.

    But after today, their protector was gone for good.

    Kali was no fool. She understood exactly what today''s events meant.

    With Scales'' affection lost, her standing in this family was about to plummet.

    Talbot cared only for profit; he had never had a shred of affection for his adopted daughter. The only reason he''d forced Citrine to act as Kali''s donor in the past was to please Scales.

    Citrine Carmichael-what a masterstroke.

    Kali''s stare drilled into Citrine, herposure shattering. With a strangled cry, she

    lunged at her. "I''m not ungrateful! Citrine Carmichael, you set me up!"

    Her hand was just inches from Citrine''s face when Hilda and Monica, brother and sister, leapt in front of Citrine, shielding her.

    At the same time, Hastings caught Kali''s arm in a vice-like grip and shoved her back, hard.

    His face twisted in irritation. ¡°Kali, that''s enough. Stop making a scene."

 Chapter 511

    Scales'' birthday banquet was ruined beyond repair. Kali and Jete''s reputation in Crestwoody in tatters.

    Once she saw her work was done, Citrine slipped away from the chaos.

    Hilda and Monica, brother and sister, immediately followed her out. The remaining guests, caught in a web of difort, hesitated a while before deciding to leave as well.

    Soon, the grand hall stood empty, echoing with the aftermath. Upstairs, Scales suddenly remembered something and wheeled himself toward the centerpiece of the room¡ªarge koi pond.

    He nced around, his eyes downcast. The pond was deserted. The water, murky and disturbed, didn''t even hold a single scrap of koi.

    Scales'' face twisted with grief and anger. "My pond, my beautiful pond... Those damn fools," he cursed.

    Letting out a heavy sigh, he turned and rolled away, grumbling under his breath the whole time.

    "Useless lot. They trashed my koi pond, fine, but couldn''t they have at least left this old man one fish?"

    Kali stood off to the side, frozen. She stole a timid nce at Scales, then mustered her courage and walked over, calling out in that sweet tone she''d used since childhood, "Grandpa?"

    "Let me take you to your room to rest," she offered, forcing an uneasy smile.

    She didn''t wait for his reply and moved behind him, hands reaching for the wheelchair''s handles.

    But before she could push, a wrinkled hand came down with a sharp smack across her knuckles, knocking her hands away.

    "Don''t," Scales snapped.

    "Grandpa, are you angry with me?" Kali stared at him, stunned, blinking back the pain in her hand, disbelief clouding her eyes.

    He had never so much as raised his voice to her, let alone hit her. Yet now, just a few pointed remarks from Citrine had changed everything.

    Scales remained silent, gazing at the granddaughter he''d cherished all her life. There was no warmth in his eyes.

    Kali rushed to exin, "Grandpa, Citrine Carmichael said those things on

    purpose. I swear that''s not what I meant-please, don''t let her fool you."

    After a moment, Scales spoke. "Of course I know she said those things to stir up trouble." He wasn''t an idiot.

    A surge of hope filled Kali. "So you believe me, Grandpa?"

    But Scales turned away, his voice cold and final. "She may have done it on purpose, but you''re not innocent either. You really are ungrateful.¡±

    She had Vitaflux in her hands and hadn''t given it to him. Whatever her reasons, her actions had chilled his heart.

    Scales had been ruthless in his youth, and though age had mellowed him, his suspicion¡ªan instinct of anyone in power-remained unshakable.

    Now, something irrevocable had shifted between them. There was no going back to how things used to be.

    He looked at Kali with unfamiliar,

    distant eyes. "That ce outside et

    town is empty now. Move in there.

    From now on, don''te back here

    unless you have to."

    "Grandpa, you''re kicking me out of the Glenwood family?" Kali''s heart plummeted.

    She stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.

    Theo, who had overheard, was equally shocked. He stepped forward to defend Kali. ¡°Grandpa, I get that you''re upset, but Kali''s your granddaughter. You can''t just send her away."

    Scales'' reply was ice-cold. "I won''t have an ingrate in this family. You and Kali have always been close, and you''re my blood, so I won''t hold this against you. But if you keep defending her, I''ll have no choice but to tell everyone I''ve cut ties with her."

    His words left no room for argument. In this house, Scales'' word carried more weight than even Talbot''s.

 Chapter 512

    He''d made his intentions perfectly clear, leaving Theo and Kali no choice but to keep quiet.

    As he was about to leave, Scales cast onest nce at Dick and his family. Shaking his head, he turned to Talbot and said, "Son, from now on, the Glenwood family is in your hands."

    Talbot''s face lit up with surprise, his voice trembling with excitement. "Thank you, Dad! I won''t let you down."

    Everyone present understood exactly what Scales'' words meant¡ªhe was handing over full control, and at the same time, making it clear that Dick''s family was being cut out for good.

    Dick''s face was ashen; he had finally be nothing more than a discarded pawn.

    Scales turned to Talbot again. "Announce to everyone that from today, I have severed all ties with Dick. He and the Glenwood family are finished with each other."

    There was a time when Scales had been fond of this son, but Dick never lived up to expectations. And now, in his old age, Scales had been humiliated by him in front of everyone.

    What a mistake, he thought bitterly. I should never have adopted this troublemaker.

    Dick''s face went even paler. With a thud, he dropped to his knees before Scales, bowing his head to the floor over and over, tears streaming down his face. "Dad, I was wrong! Please, don''t cut me off! You always said I was your favorite son. Please, don''t do this to me!"

    Though Dick was adopted, he''d always known how to win Scales'' favor. He thought Scales was just angry and venting; he never imagined his father would actually sever ties so decisively.

    But Scales ignored him, turning back to Talbot. "See them out."

    Talbot showed no mercy, ordering Dick and his family out of the house without hesitation.

    Aline and Jete had thought that today would finally be their chance to appear in public as rightful members of the Glenwood family, enjoying all the privileges that came with the name. They never imagined things would end like this.

    The family returned home in a daze. As soon as they arrived, Jete shut herself in her room.

    Her phone buzzed unexpectedly.

    She opened her messaging app and saw a message from Kali.

    Kali: Jete, I gave you Vitaflux. When are you giving me what you promised?

    A trace of malice flickered in Jete''s eyes as she replied: Next week.

    Kali: Are you sure this thing will ruin Citrine''s reputation?

    Jete hesitated for a moment, then steeled herself and typed: Absolutely.

    After leaving the Glenwood estate,

    Hilda and Monica trailed after

    Citrine, their gazes so intense that

    Citrine could feel them burning into

    her back as she walked.

    With a sigh, she stopped, turned around, and looked at the three of them. "If you

    have questions, just ask."

    Wade knew, his question sounded

    silly, but he couldn''t help himself "Sis, are you really the lead

    researcher at the world''s top

    medical institute? Did you really

    invent Vitaflux?"

    Hilda shot Wade a re, offended that anyone would doubt her daughter. "Didn''t

    you see it with your own eyes? What kind of stupid question is that?"

    Citrine smiled as Wade looked at her sheepishly. "Of course it''s true."

    To anyone else, it would be

    unbelievable-CICI Group''s chairwoman, and the top researcher at the world''s most renowned medical institution. No one couldpare.

    Wade looked at his little sister-who was still a few years younger than he was- and felt a surge of pride.

    Monica felt the same. She''d always thought her sister was just a brilliant student at Crestwood University, but she had no idea there was so much more to her.

    Monica''s admiration was genuine. "Citrine, you''re amazing. From now on, you''re my role model."

 Chapter 513

    Compared to Monica and Wade, Hilda''s face was unreadable; if anything, her expression had grown a shade darker.

    Wade and Monica exchanged a puzzled nce before Wade finally spoke up. ¡°Aunt Hilda, shouldn''t you be happy for your niece? Citrine''s aplished so much-why do you look so grim?"

    As their words faded, Citrine, too, turned to Hilda in confusion, her eyes searching her mother''s face.

    Noticing her daughter''s bewildered gaze, Hilda gave a bitter smile. "My poor Citrine she must have suffered so much over the years."

    She went on quietly, "If Citrine''s only this outstanding because she''s endured so much hardship, then I almost wish she''d grown up a rebellious child who didn''t care about grades or ''sess.'' I''d rather she be ordinary and happy than brilliant and hurting."

    Aside from what had happened to Citrine overseas, Hilda had investigated every detail of her daughter''s life back home.

    Before turning three, Citrine had been taken away by a middle-aged man¡ªa drunken gambler who abused her and forced her to scavenge for scraps to feed them both.

    Then, she''d been adopted by Sawyer Iverson. For less than a year, life seemed to improve, until Sawyer brought Aline and her daughter home. From then on, peace vanished from Citrine''s life. At eleven, the Iverson family eventually sent her away to Mirage Cay.

    Though Hilda''s contacts hadn''t been able to uncover what had happened to Citrine on Mirage Cay, she knew all too well the ind''s reputation. The horrors there were said to make even her difficult life at home seem mild byparison.

    Under such circumstances, Citrine''s excellence could only have been forged by necessity. People saw her poise, her achievements, but only she knew how many scars and hardshipsy beneath the surface.

    Hearing Hilda''s words, Citrine froze, hershes trembling as if she couldn''t believe her mother would ever say such things.

    All her life, Citrine had been taught that strength was the only way to survive-that

    to be liked, to be safe, she had to be exceptional and useful, or else she''d be powerless.

    But Hilda seemed not to care about her achievements; she cared only about whether Citrine had suffered.

    For a fleeting moment, Citrine felt the warmth of a mother''s love¡ªsomething she''d almost forgotten how to recognize.

    But as Hilda''s gaze lingered on her, Citrine looked away, uneasy and awkward. She lied, "I''ve been fine. No one''s ever made me suffer."

    Hilda could see right through the lie. She lowered her head, guilt and pain flickering in her eyes, but when she looked up again, she wasposed, the mask firmly back in ce.

    A few dayster, the Watkins family held their annual charity g in Crestwood, drawing a who''s who of the city''s elite.

    Citrine had reached a point in her career where attending such events was optional, but with her Blood

    Rain project still expanding, she

    needed the connections-every g was an opportunity to meet new contacts, size up business leaders, and decide where to extend her next olive branch.

    Ever since Scales''s birthday celebration, news had spread like wildfire: not only was Citrine CEO of the CICI Group, but she was also the top research specialist at the World''s leading medical institute. Tonight, the number of guests seeking her favor at the g only multiplied.

    Meanwhile, Kali and Jete had gone to extraordinary lengths to sneak in. Their reputations in Crestwood had been in tatters since Scales''s birthday, so scoring a invitation was impossible-if not for Theo and Quentin Aldridge. After

    ¹Û

    much pleading, Kali convinced the brothers to let her and Jete tag along as their plus-ones.

    Once inside, Kali and Jete exchanged a conspiratorial smile. Their eyes locked on Citrine across the room, each gaze filled with loathing.

    Remembering the video on the sh drive, Kali felt her blood simmer with anticipation.

    Citrine Carmichael, tonight I''ll make sure your reputation is destroyed.

    The Watkins family, who hosted tonight''s event, were known for keeping to themselves. They rarely mingled with other powerful families in Crestwood, though their status wasn''t far below the Glenwoods-and even the Glenwoods were careful not to cross them.

    Everyone in Crestwood knew that Mr. Watkins doted on his wife, Mamie. Kind- hearted and devoted to charity, she''d made it her mission to help others, and her husband dly funded her causes with staggering sums each year.

    But tonight''s charity g wasn''t just about raising money for girls in need; Mrs. Watkins also saw it as a chance to scout out eligible young men for her daughter.

    The two women were chatting quietly when, suddenly, they caught sight of Citrine surrounded by a crowd of admirers. Both mother and daughter stared in astonishment, unable to believe what they were seeing.

 Chapter 514

    Mamie gasped, "Oh my goodness, is that who I think it is? That''s Obsidian, my absolute favorite!"

    Ms. Watkins clutched her chest, her eyes wide. "Oh my, she''s even more stunning in person. My heart can''t take it-I think it''s about to burst!"

    Mamie, bold and straightforward as always, didn''t hesitate. She grabbed her daughter''s hand and set off purposefully toward Citrine. Meanwhile, Ms. Watkins shuffled after them, suddenly shy and a little embarrassed, whispering as they walked.

    "Mom, is my makeup smudged?"

    "Should I touch up my lipstick?"

    From across the room, Citrine noticed the mother and daughter approaching, both grinning from ear to ear. She paused in surprise, but quickly switched to her wless social smile, greeting them warmly. "Mamie, Ms. Watkins."

    At once, Mamie and Odette burst out, voices trembling with excitement, "Obsidian, we''re your biggest fans!"

    Citrine froze for a moment, caught off guard.

    When Citrine didn''t answer right away, Mamie grew anxious. "Obsidian, don''t you remember us? We''re the top two names on your supporter leaderboard!"

    Still seeing no recognition, Odette pointed to herself, barely able to contain her excitement. "I''m Ob''s Embrace! Don''t you remember? I even promoted you all over Twitter!"

    Then she gestured to Mamie. "And she''s Ob''s Pirs! She''s been supporting you, too!"

    Ob? Ob''s Pirs? Ob''s Embrace? What kind of nicknames are these? Citrine''s eye twitched involuntarily.

    She thought to herself, My armpits definitely aren''t ck, thank you very much.

    But she just smiled politely and said, "I''m so sorry, it didn''t click at first, but now I remember."

    She couldn''t recall the exact leaderboard rankings, but she definitely remembered the usernames Ob''s Pirs and Ob''s Embrace from the website-after all, one had sent her five thousand dors in gifts, and the other, ten thousand.

    At Citrine''s acknowledgement, the two women squealed in delight. "We knew you wouldn''t forget us! I can''t believe this is real-I have to post about this right now!"

    Mamie was already pulling out her phone, while Odette turned to Citrine with pleading eyes. "Would you mind taking a photo with us?"

    Citrine hadn''t expected to be asked for pictures at a charity g, and though she found the whole situation a bit absurd, she agreed.

    Immediately, both mother and

    daughter pulled out their phones in perfect unison, snapping photos of Citrine from every angle. When they were satisfied, they crowded around her for selfies, switching up poses again and again. Citrine did her best to keep up, shing a practiced smile as the impromptu photoshoot dragged on for the better part of half an hour.

    When they finally finished, Mamie and Odette huddled over their phones, giggling and squealing as they scrolled through their pictures.

    Mamie cooed, "She''s gorgeous! She could easily get on her looks alone, but she''s got talent and brains to match."

    Odette was nearly hyperventting. "She''s so beautiful, I can''t take it-I think my heart''s about to give out. Someone help me!"

    Theirughter rang out across the ballroom, clear and utterly unmissable.

    All eyes were on them as the mother-daughter duo carried on like excitable fans

    at a pop concert, dominating the room for a good half hour.

    Finally, when they quieted down, the other guests seemed almost unsettled by the

    sudden silence, and turned as one to look curiously at them.

    Citrine, keeping herposure, subtly shielded herself behind her clutch,

    thinking, These two are walking spotlights.

    Now, the guests began whispering among themselves.

    "I always heard Mamie was the outgoing type, so her antics make sense. But isn''t

    Odette supposed to be the quiet, polite one? You''d never guess it from today."

    "Everyone in Crestwood knows Ms. Watkins as the sweet,

    well-mannered girl who never causes trouble. But look at her

    now she''s nothing like the rumors. Are we sure that''s really Odette

    Watkins? Maybe she''s possessed!" C¨®ntent

    "Mrs. Watkins and her daughter seem awfully familiar with President Carmichael

    -like they''ve known her for ages."

    "They both looked absolutely thrilled to see President Carmichael. Seems like they really admire her."

    "President Carmichael must be

    something special-not only does she have the Saunders family backing her, but even Mrs. Watkins and her daughter are falling over themselves to meet her.

    Impressive."

    On and on thements went.

    Mamie and Odette, however, were unfazed by the attention. In fact, they were beaming with pride as they turned to Citrine.

    Mamie gushed, "Did you hear that? Everyone thinks we''ve been friends for years! This is the best day ever!"

    Odette, still breathless, added, "Just knowing I''m even remotely connected to you makes me want to shout it from the rooftops!"

 Chapter 515

    At every charity g, there was always a high-stakes auction. Each guest was required to bring an item to donate-antique heirlooms, rare jewels, or some other treasure¡ªto be bid upon by the assembled crowd. The proceeds would be given to support children in remote regions or other charitable causes.

    Once the dinner began in earnest, the host took the stage and announced the time hade for guests to present their auction pieces.

    The auction was always the highlight of the evening.

    Backstage attendants wheeled out each item in turn. The host whipped the cloth off the first piece, projecting his voice across the ballroom. "Our first auction item of the eveninges from Mamie: the Dewsk!"

    The bottle was a vision-crystal clear, its slender neck almost transparent, delicate and perfect in every curve.

    Those who collected fine spirits or prized rare decanters shifted to the edges of their seats, excitement rippling through the room.

    Mamie had acquired the Dewsk years ago, snapping it up abroad for a mere few million¡ªan absolute steal, since the foreign sellers hadn''t realized what they had. Now, its value had skyrocketed to five hundred million.

    Everyone knew Mamie adored this Dewsk; bringing it to auction tonight was a real sacrifice.

    The host raised his gavel. "Bidding for the Dewsk begins at five hundred million."

    The crowd erupted in rapid-fire offers.

    "Five fifty!"

    "Six hundred!"

    "Seven hundred!"

    "Eight hundred million!"

    "Eight hundred million going once, going twice, sold!" The host brought the gavel down with a decisive thud.

    The next lot,pared to the Dewsk, was utterly unremarkable.

    Interest in the room fizzled out immediately.

    Near the back, Kali and Jete sat together, Kali''s gaze fixed intently on Citrine, who was seated at the very front, as though she could burn a hole straight through her.

    Just wait, Kali thought. Tonight, not only would she restore her reputation, she''d utterly destroy Citrine Carmichael''s.

    A sly smile crept across Kali''s lips.

    Leaning in close to Theo, she whispered, "Is my auction item ready, big brother?" Theo nced down, indulgent affection in his eyes. "Of course. Everything''s set." "Thank you, you''re the best," she replied with a sugary tug at his sleeve.

    Having received his reassurance,, Kali''s eyes darted back to Citrine her expression brimming with

    confidence. Her auction piece would be the star of the night-guaranteed

    to steal the spotlight.

    Citrine Carmichael, she thought fiercely, just you wait. Everything I lost, I''ll take back.

    After several hours, the auction drew to a close.

    Only two items remained. The host, who had started the evening full of energy was now clearly gging, barely stifling yawns as he repeated the same routine: unveil the item, announce the name, move on.

    But as he peeled back the cover on the next item, his face changed dramatically. He blinked, staring wide-eyed at the ss disy case, as if he''d just seen something incredible.

    "Are these...the NecroBlitz Tablets?" His voice trembled, disbelief and awe making him stumble over the words.

    But professionalism kicked in, and he quickly regained hisposure, voice suddenly sharp and clear.

    "Ladies and gentlemen, this next item has been donated by Miss Kali-the NecroBlitz Tablets. The starting bid is five billion."

    The words had barely left his mouth before the guests shot to their feet, the room erupting in a chorus of shock.

    "The NecroBlitz Tablets? Impossible!"

    "Didn''t the Glenwood family announcest year that the research was a failure?

    How are they up for auction now?"

    "Is this really the NecroBlitz Tablets?"

 Chapter 516

    Kali''s lips curled into a satisfied smile as she watched the crowd''s confused expressions. ¡°Of course it''s real," she announced, her voice ringing with pride. "But the ingredients needed to make NecroBlitz Tablets are incredibly rare and hard toe by. The process itself is also extremelyplex. So far, our Glenwood family has managed to produce only this one tablet. I brought it here today to auction it off for a good price and to help fund education for young girls in remote areas."

    Someone in the crowd spoke up. "Ms. Glenwood, did you develop the NecroBlitz Tablets yourself?"

    Kali paused for a split second, then smiled faintly and nodded. "Yes, I did. I''m the one who developed NecroBlitz Tablets."

    Theo stared at his sister in disbelief, shock flickering in his eyes.

    Just yesterday, Kali hade to him in tears, begging him to steal the NecroBlitz Tablet from Scales'' room. Why was she lying now?

    But the guests didn''t doubt Kali''s im. After all, everyone in Crestwood knew about her talent and beauty. She was the pride of Crestwood University-a well- known prodigy. Though her major was literature, she''d also minored in biopharmaceuticals. It wasn''t so far-fetched to believe she''d created the NecroBlitz Tablets herself.

    Now, the guests'' attitudes towards Kali had changedpletely. Those who''d offended her in the Glenwood family because of Citrine were filled with regret.

    Vitaflux was good, but it couldn''tpare to NecroBlitz Tablets; the need for thetter was far greater.

    Cases of Al syndrome were everywhere these days, and once the illness reached its advanced stages, there was almost no hope. Chemotherapy left patients exhausted and in pain, and in the end, death was inevitable. But NecroBlitz Tablets could eradicate cancer cells from the body-evente-stage patients, provided they were physically strong enough, had a chance for survival if they took it.

    Owning a NecroBlitz Tablet could mean saving your own life¡ªor a loved one''s¡ª at a critical moment. All eyes in the room were fixed on that single tablet on the stage; those with sick rtives at home were filled with desperate longing.

    That didn''t stop them from scrambling to apologize to Kali and curry favor.

    "Ms. Glenwood, you''re truly remarkable. We were out of line before-please forgive us."

    "Ms. Glenwood, I hope you''ll consider me first if you ever create another batch of NecroBlitz Tablets. The Fuller Group will never forget your kindness."

    "Ms. Glenwood, I know I''ve offended you in the past. If you''re free tomorrow, I''d like toe by in person and offer my apologies."

    "Ms. Glenwood, I heard you have a fondness for diamonds. Not long ago, my wife bought a pink diamond at great expense from the ck market in Magnolia. I''ll have it sent to your home tomorrow."

    Kali basked in their admiration and

    the thrill of being fawned over. Thet

    feeling of power and vanity was unexpectedly delightful.

    fey delightful.

    These sly old foxes had sided with Citrine before, but now they were all wagging their tails for her. Truly, they were like dogs-whoever fed them scraps won their loyalty.

    She gave a cold snort, holding herself aloof and not even ncing their way.

    Yet no one took offense; they forced polite smiles, each one more eager to please than thest.

    Inside, though, they all thought the

    same thing: Ms. Glenwood was

    petty

    Her vision narrow. Compared

    to President Carmichael, she didn''t evene close.  fo

    The auction for the NecroBlitz Tablet began.

    Guests raised their paddles in a frenzy.

    "Six billion."

    "Seven billion."

    "Seven and a half billion."

    "Eight billion."

    "Ten billion."

    "Fifteen billion."

    "Twenty billion."

    "Twenty-five billion."

    Suddenly, from the second-floor balcony, a deep and maic voice cut through the noise: "Fifty billion."

    The sound was low and gravelly, like velvet over stone-impossibly captivating.

 Chapter 517

    The sudden voice caught everyone off guard, and all eyes turned to the second floor.

    A tall man leaned nonchntly against the upstairs banister, his elegant fingers resting casually on the polished rail. Even with his detached expression, there was no hiding his air of authority and privilege.

    Not recognizing the neer, several heads swiveled toward Mamie. "Mamie, who''s that?"

    Mamie spoke up, "That''s Sebastian Vesper, Chairman of the Steris Group."

    Someone swallowed hard, disbelief clear in his tone. "Wait, you mean *the* Steris Group? As in, the head of Shadow Syndicate?"

    Mamie nodded. "That''s right."

    "Unbelievable! I can''t believe he''s actually here."

    "I''ve only ever heard about him in rumors," someone else whispered. "This is the first time I''ve ever seen President Vesper in person."

    "Tonight is worth it," another murmured. "President Carmichael, President Vesper, and Ms. Glenwood-the woman who developed the NecroBlitz Tablets. Honestly, just getting in good with any one of them would be a win."

    Someone, still reeling, eyed Mamie and couldn''t help but ask, "Mamie, you actually know President Vesper?"

    Mamie shook her head. "Not really. His secretary reached out and asked if President Vesper could attend, so I sent an invitation." She couldn''t imagine ever being in direct contact with a man like him otherwise.

    Meanwhile, Kali and Theo stared at Sebastian, astonished.

    Kali muttered, "Isn''t that Sebastian? What''s he doing here? Since when did he be Chairman of Steris Group?"

    Theo shook his head in disbelief. "No way Sebastian''s the Chairman. That''s impossible."

    Though both were baffled, they kept their thoughts to themselves.

    For a long moment, no one dared to raise their paddle.

    This was Sebastian Vesper''s first public appearance, but his reputation preceded him. Everyone wanted the NecroBlitz Tablets, but nobody was foolish enough to cross someone of his stature. Besides, he''d already driven the bidding sky-high, well beyond what most of them could afford. Even if they wanted topete, they simply couldn''t.

    The auctioneer cleared his throat. "Fifty billion, going once, fifty-"

    He didn''t get to finish.

    A voice rang out from the main floor. "One hundred billion!"

    It was Citrine

    The moment she met

    Sebastian''s gaze, she knew he was in control this time-the dominant personality. And if he was calling the shots then the score from the fast encounter, when she''d been thrown into a piranha tank, still needed to be settled.

    For once, she felt a spark of mischief. Raising her paddle, she shed Sebastian

    a sly, challenging smile.

    From his perch above, Sebastian''s expression darkened, lips ttening, eyes chilling.

    He stared down at her in silence, but even that single look was enough to send shivers through the room.

    Citrine, however, seemed utterly unfazed. Her smile only grew wider.

    After a few seconds of this silent standoff, Sebastian raised his paddle again. "Two hundred billion."

    Citrine didn''t hesitate. "Five hundred billion."

    The aide behind Sebastian felt a chill crawl up his spine. Leaning in, he

    whispered, "Sir, is she deliberately trying to provoke you?"

    Recalling their unpleasant history, Sebastian''s gaze turned icy. "Hmph. Just an

    insolent brat. She''s not even worth my time."

    With that, he called out, "Eight hundred billion."

    This time, Citrine stayed silent.

    Nearly a minute ticked by. When Citrine still didn''t raise her paddle, the auctioneer brought the gavel down with a flourish and dered in a ringing voice, "NecroBlitz Tablets go to Mr. Vesper!"

    At that, Citrine looked up at Sebastian with a dazzling grin and gave him a big thumbs-up.

    At first, Sebastian felt nothing, but seeing Citrine''s exuberant

    expression, an odd feeling crept over him-almost as if he''d just been yed, though he couldn''t quite put his finger on why.

 Chapter 518

    And now, it was time for the final item of the night.

    Earlier, the NecroBlitz Tablets had wowed the crowd, and every auction lot since had seemedckluster byparison. No one expected much from thisst piece; anticipation was low as the auctioneer calmly lifted the red velvet cloth.

    He took a look, blinked in surprise, and his voice faltered. "How is this possible? The final item is a duplicate."

    He nced at the audience, then announced, "Thest auction lot is from Ms. Citrine Carmichael..."

    He paused, then added, "It''s the NecroBlitz Tablets-identical to Ms. Glenwood''s earlier lot."

    With that, the room fell into a confused hush. Even Sebastian, up on the second- floor balcony, turned his attention to Citrine.

    Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

    "President Carmichael, why is your auction item the NecroBlitz Tablets again?"

    "Didn''t Ms. Glenwood say there''s only one of these in existence? How do you have another?"

    "Is yours a fake, President Carmichael?"

    "Your item is exactly the same as Ms. Glenwood''s. Don''t you think you owe us an exnation?"

    Kali hadn''t seen thising. She stared at the stage, a flicker of worry crossing her face. Just then, Jete leaned in and whispered something in her ear. As soon as she heard it, Kali''s concern vanished, reced by a sly, scheming grin. The guests'' chatter swelled to a raucous din. Citrine pressed her lips together, brow furrowing as she prepared to speak-only for Kali to leap to her feet.

    She pointed straight at Citrine, her tone sharp and using. "Citrine Carmichael, I''m the one who developed the NecroBlitz Tablets-there''s only one in the world! Where did you get yours?"

    She didn''t let Citrine get a word in. Her voice cut through the room, cold and righteous. "You''ve got no shame. You knew tonight was a charityg, and you still brought a fake to auction? How ck is your heart?"

    Kali folded her arms, smug and triumphant, her gaze dripping with mockery-as if

    she''d just scored a wless victory.

    Idiot. She couldn''t have been more wrong.

    Now it was Citrine''s turn to strike back.

    A ghost of a smile yed on Citrine''s lips as, in front of the entire room, she

    Kali''s head jerked to the side, but

    before she could recover, Citrine struck again. And again. Five crisp ps in quick session before Citrine finally drew back her hand.

    Afterward, she shook out her wrist, frowning at Kali and sighing, her tone dripping with feigned sweetness, "Your skin''s so thick, my hand actually hurts."

    She''d barely finished before Monica and Wade-brother and sister-jumped up from their seats and hurried to Citrine''s side, gingerly taking her hand in theirs.

    Monica''s voice trembled with concern as she examined Citrine''s reddened fingers. "No wonder it hurts-look how red your hand is."

    She shot Kali a withering re, then spat, "Her face must be made of brick."

    Monica cradled Citrine''s hand, blowing gently to soothe the sting. "Don''t worry, Citrine. I''ll make it better. Just let me."

    Meanwhile, Wade fussed over

    Citrine''s hand with a scowl, dabbing at it while grumbling, "That''s what you get for being so thick-skinned. If anything happens to Citrine'' hand, you''ll answer to me."

    Citrine hesitated for a moment. She''d only meant to put on a show, but the siblings were taking it seriously.

    Awkwardly, she said, "Really... there''s no need to fuss so much."

    She tried to pull her hand free, but after a few failed tugs, she realized it was pointless and gave up.

 Chapter 519

    Although Kali was only the adopted daughter of the Glenwood family, she had been pampered by them her entire life. With a doting older brother like Theo- who watched over her like a hawk-she was used to being the center of attention, never having suffered the slightest injustice.

    This was the first time anyone had ever struck her.

    Citrine hadn''t held back. Now, both sides of Kali''s face were swollen and burning with pain. She couldn''t even decide which cheek to clutch, staring at Citrine in stunned disbelief.

    "You actually hit me?" Kali''s expression was a storm of shock, humiliation, and fury.

    Before anyone could react, her eyes shed with anger. She lunged at Citrine, hand raised and ready to p her back.

    "Yeah, I hit you. What of it?" Wade scoffed, sticking out his foot on purpose.

    Kali barely got her hand in the air before she was sent sprawling to the floor, tripped hard. She clutched her knee, wincing and gritting her teeth in pain.

    Theo''s face darkened the instant he saw his sister being attacked. He crossed the room in a few long strides, dropping to one knee beside Kali to check her injuries.

    "Kali, are you alright?" he asked, worry flooding his voice.

    Kali had never been so humiliated. She pressed her lips together, refusing to say a word.

    Seeing how crushed his little sister looked, Theo''s fists clenched. He stood up, eyes narrowing on Citrine behind Wade. His voice was icy with threat. "You darey a hand on my sister? You do realize the Glenwood family won''t let you get away with this?"

    Wade was about to retort when Citrineid a calming hand on his shoulder.

    Wade shot her a confused look. "Citrine?"

    "Rx. They can''t do anything to me," Citrine said softly, giving him a reassuring nce.

    Then she stepped out from behind him, meeting Theo''s re with a faint smile. "Theo, you should be d your father isn''t here. If he''d heard you just now, you''d be the first one he smacked."

    The Glenwood family ruled

    Crestwood with an iron fist and controlled the city''s shadowwork, but over the years, that powe had earned them plenty of enemies. Talbot Glenwood knew this better than anyone he wasn''t reckless enough to pick a fight with the CICI Group. If it ever came to blows, neither side woulde out unscathed.

    Theo, as Talbot''s only son, was no fool. Citrine''s words made the stakes clear.

    Still, looking at his sister''s battered face, he couldn''t let it go.

    He shot a re at Citrine, then

    sneered at Wade behind her. "Citrine Carmichael, you really are

    something. First you have Hastings wrapped around your little finger,

    and now you''ve got Wade falling for you too."

    Citrine just smiled, unruffled. ¡°I suppose I am, aren''t I? Thanks for thepliment."

    She didn''t stop there, adding pointedly, "But don''t worry, Theo-I wouldn''t dream

    of setting my sights on the Glenwood family''s golden boy."

    Her words were so infuriating that Theo nearly choked.

    Just then, someone among the guests called out, ¡°President Carmichael, what''s really going on with these NecroBlitz Tablets?"

    Citrine took her time responding, her tone calm and cool. "The NecroBlitz Tablets Kali brought are iplete prototypes. Taking them causes serious side effects-they don''t

    destroy Al cells as imed. In fact,

    they''ll only speed up the user''s

    death."

    She shot Kali a cold, sideways nce. "That''s why I pped her. I couldn''t stand

    to see her hurting people like this."

    A stunned hush fell over the crowd. Everyone turned to stare at Kali, even

    Sebastian on the second-floor balcony, though his expression was unreadable.

    Quiet murmurs rippled through the room.

    "How could this be? Are the tablets really just prototypes, like President Carmichael says?"

    "But President Vesper just bought one for eight billion dors! If it''s a fake, he''s beenpletely swindled..."

 Chapter 520

    Someone in the crowd muttered under their breath, "If it turns out to be fake, President Vesper is going to make a killing off this."

    ...

    As the murmurs grew, someone turned to Kali. "Ms. Glenwood, don''t you think you owe us an exnation?"

    "That''s right, Ms. Glenwood. If there''s something wrong with your medicine, that''s

    a criminal offense. You could be looking at prison time for manughter."

    "Ms. Glenwood, you''re the one who developed the NecroBlitz Tablets. We deserve a proper exnation from you today."

    "If something actually goes wrong after using the NecroBlitz Tablets, could you really handle the consequences?"

    ...

    Impossible. That NecroBlitz Tablet was taken straight from the safe in Scales'' bedroom. There''s no way it''s an unfinished prototype.

    If it were, Scales would never have locked that worthless thing away in his safe.

    No, it has to be Citrine stirring up trouble on purpose. That NecroBlitz Tablet is definitely real-there''s no way it''s a fake.

    With that, Kali shot to her feet, ring at the guests as she dered, "I developed the NecroBlitz Tablets myself. There''s absolutely nothing wrong with them. Don''t listen to Citrine Carmichael''s nonsense."

    For a moment, the guests seemed unsure whom to believe.

    Kali''s sharp gaze fixed on Citrine, burning with anger. "Citrine Carmichael, what gives you the right to im my NecroBlitz Tablets are fake? Where''s your proof?"

    She didn''t wait for an answer before snapping, "If you''re just making things up, then I could just as easily say your NecroBlitz Tablets are fake."

    Citrine simply looked at Kali, a faint, knowing smile curving her lips.

    "What are you smiling at?" Kali demanded, herposure slipping further at Citrine''s calm demeanor.

    Citrine said nothing.

    Kali was unraveling, and finally she couldn''t hold back. She shouted, her voice echoing through the room, "Citrine Carmichael, our Glenwood family was the very firstpany to of

    announce the develop

    NecroBlitz Tablets. Years have passed, and now we''ve finally seeded. What''s so suspicious about that?"

    "If anything, it''s your sudden appearance with a NecroBlitz Tablet that''s hard to believe."

    Kali''s argument wasn''t without logic. After she finished, the crowd found

    themselves swaying back to her side.

    "She''s right. The Glenwood Group announced the NecroBlitz Tablets years ago. It

    makes sense they''d be the ones auctioning it off."

    "And besides, everyone first heard about this miracle drug from Glenwood''s official press releases. If Kali''s NecroBlitz Tablet is fake, then how could President Carmichael''s possibly be real?"

    Someone nced at Citrine, hesitant, and asked, "President Carmichael, may I

    ask where your NecroBlitz Tablet came from?"

    Citrine''s lips curled into a small smile. "I developed it myself."

    The person looked doubtful. "But the Glenwood family was the first to start King on the NecroBlitz

    lets. Do you have any proof that you''re the actual developer?"

    "I have plenty of proof," Citrine replied, her eyes gleaming with quiet confidence.

    Then she turned to Kali. "But before that, I have a question for Ms. Glenwood." Kali hissed, "What is it? Ask your question."

    Citrine smiled, her tone light but cutting. "Since you im to be the creator of the NecroBlitz Tablets, you must know them inside out."

    "Tell me, then-what ingredients are used to make the NecroBlitz Tablets?"

    All eyes turned to Kali, the room falling into a tense silence as everyone waited for her answer.

 Chapter 521

    Everyone here today was a prominent figure in Crestwood, and quite a few worked in the medical field.

    They''d already shown keen interest in the NecroBlitz Tablets; if they could learn even a handful of the ingredients used to make them, most of these people would be too excited to sleep tonight.

    Now, the whole crowd leaned in, waiting for Kali to speak.

    Three minutes ticked by, but Kali remained silent.

    Suddenly, Citrine let out a coldugh and deliberately called her out, "Ms.

    Glenwood, it''s been three minutes. Why are you still quiet?"

    Before Kali could respond, Citrine pressed on, ¡°This is your own research, isn''t it? Don''t tell me you don''t even know what went into your own pills?"

    This wretched woman.

    Kali had stolen the pills from Scales-how could she possibly know what ingredients went into making them?

    Her face went pale as she red daggers at Citrine, snapping, "Who says I don''t know?"

    "Then go ahead. Tell us," Citrine replied, her tone indifferent.

    Kali''s eyes darted around, panic rising inside her.

    She forced herself to answer, "These NecroBlitz Tablets are incredibly rare. Why would I just hand over the ingredient list?"

    At that moment, Citrine nced up toward the second floor, where Sebastian was seated. She offered him a slight smile and said, "You don''t have to tell me, but surely you should tell President Vesper. After all, he just paid eight hundred million for that pill."

    "Why would I tell him?" Kali blurted in confusion, not understanding Citrine''s point. With that, people began to eye Kali a little differently.

    Anyone who worked in medicine, or who had regrly participated in auctions for rare pharmaceuticals, knew the protocol: to avoidplications¡ªand to ensure the product''s safety-once the auction ended, the creator was required to provide the buyer with a detailed list of all ingredients and their proportions.

    Kali realized, toote, that the mood in the room had shifted.

    Before she could gather her thoughts, Citrineughed outright. "Ms. Glenwood, have you really never been in the real world before?"

    "What''s that supposed to mean?" Kali asked,pletely lost.

    Citrine dropped her smile, her tone sharp. "Do you seriously not know? At medical auctions, it''s standard practice after the sale, the creator must provide the buyer with a full list of ingredients and exact proportions used in the medicine."

    What? She had to write out the form?

    Kali''s face turned as white as a sheet. Now, true panic set in.

    Sensing her distress, Citrine gave a mocking little snort. ¡°Ms. Glenwood, putting aside whether you actually developed the NecroBlitz Tablets.or not, you''re still the Glenwood family''s eldest daughter. Your family was in pharmaceuticals for years-you mean to say you don''t even know basic auction protocol? How..."

    Citrine paused, then finished with a smirk, "Uncultured."

    Kali clenched her teeth. "Who are you calling uncultured?"

    She red at Citrine. "Who says I don''t know? I just... I forgot the form, that''s

    all."

    Citrine nodded, a cold smile on her face. "Oh, you forgot? Well, I suggest you remember, and fast."

    She went on, "There''s another rule at these auctions: if the seller can''te

    provide the form for a rare

    medicine in the allotted time, they

    must pay the buyer double the

    purchase price."

    "Mr. Vesper paid eight hundred million. That means you''d owe him one point six billion."

    "One point six billion dors."

    Kali''s eyes widened in shock-she nearly fainted.

    One point six billion? There was no way she coulde up with that kind of money.

    Forget one point six billion-after being kicked out by her grandfather, she didn''t even have five million to her name.

    Regret washed over her. If she''d known things would turn out like this, she never would have let her brother steal those NecroBlitz Tablets in the first ce.

 Chapter 522

    It''s over. This time, it''s really over.

    At that moment, Sebastian descended slowly from the second floor, his footsteps measured and his gaze heavy as he nced at Citrine. Then he shot Kali a look of utter disdain, his voiceced with threat. "If you can''t produce the form, you''ll owe me sixteen billion dors."

    Kali''s heart plummeted.

    She let out a cold scoff, still refusing toe clean. "It''s been so long, I can''t remember the form anymore. But my family does. Give me a minute, I''ll call home and ask for it."

    She leaned over and whispered urgently to Theo, "Please, help me. Call Grandpa and ask-he''ll know the form for the NecroBlitz Tablets. I can''t possibly pay back eighteen billion."

    Theo gave a reluctant nod. Kali had always been the sensible, clever little sister- he''d never seen her so desperate, so stubborn. But she was his sister, the one he''d grown up with. He couldn''t just stand by.

    The two slipped out of the auction hall. Once outside, Theo pulled out his phone and dialed Scales.

    As soon as the call connected, Theo got straight to the point. "Grandpa, I need the form for the NecroBlitz Tablets. Tell me."

    Scales jolted upright in bed, disbelief written across his face. "What did you just say?"

    Theo repeated, "I need the form for the NecroBlitz Tablets. Right now."

    Realization dawned on Scales. He jumped out of bed and hurried to his safe, flinging it open without hesitation. He rummaged through its contents, searching for the small box he''d hidden in the very back. But after a frantic minute, he couldn''t find it. His face darkened.

    He lowered his voice and spoke firmly into the phone. "Theo, bring the NecroBlitz Tablets back. Immediately."

    "Grandpa, I can''t." Theo pressed his lips together, voice strained. "It''s toote."

    A sharp edge entered Scales''s tone. "What do you mean, you can''t?"

    Theo hesitated, then confessed, "I already sold the NecroBlitz Tablets at auction."

    Scales immediately understood, his voice rising in horror. "Are you out of your mind? That thing must never be sold!"

    Without waiting, he barked, "Stop the auction right now. Bring the NecroBlitz Tablets back this instant."

    Theo''s reply was heavy. "Grandpa, it''s already over. If I can''t produce the form today, I''ll owe sixteen billion."

    Scales went deathly pale, nearly passing out. He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, struggling to catch his breath. When he finally managed to speak again, it was to unleash a storm of curses at Theo.

    "You idiot! Just you wait-I''ming over right now."

    Ten minutester, Scales arrived at the charity g with Talbot in tow. Only then did he discover the whole mess was Kali''s doing.

    Furious, Seales struck Kali hard

    across the face and shouted, "You little wretch! If I''d known you''d cause this kind of disaster, I never would

    have taken you in!"

    Knowing she''d messed up, Kali didn''t dare talk back. She just hung her head and

    apologized over and over. "I''m sorry, Grandpa. I''m really sorry."

    Scales ignored her and strode into the main auction hall with Talbot.

    The guests fell silent in surprise at their arrival.

    "Mister Scales, Mr. Glenwood-you made it! Please, have a seat," Mamie said, hurrying to arrange chairs for them.

    "No need," Scales replied, waving her off.

    He raised his

    s voice so everyone

    could hear."m here tonight because of my foolish

    granddaughter, and I owe you all an apology. I''m sorry, but the NecroBlitz Tablets were taken from our home without permission. In fact, it''s only a prototype the form isn''t evenplete. I regret to say it cannot be auctioned this evening."

 Chapter 523

    The moment Scales spoke, all eyes immediately shifted to Kali standing behind him, their faces twisted with the anger of betrayal.

    "So President Carmichael was telling the truth after all!"

    "Now that Scales himself has admitted it, that means the NecroBlitz Tablets weren''t even developed by Ms. Glenwood-she just stole them from her family."

    "Unbelievable. Ms. Glenwood has some nerve, lying about something like this. Absolutely two-faced."

    "She didn''t even bother to check if the pills were safe before putting them up for auction. Stupid and downright malicious."

    ...

    Kali''s face went pale, and she kept her head bowed, unable to meet anyone''s gaze. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "I''m sorry. I lied... but I really didn''t know the NecroBlitz Tablets were only a prototype."

    She could practically feel the contempt in everyone''s eyes, even though she didn''t dare look up.

    The anger in the room only seemed to grow as people red at Kali.

    "There''s no point in listening to anything else you have to say, Ms. Glenwood. You''re vain and apulsive liar. You had us bidding on an unfinished drug, with no regard for anyone''s safety or life. That''s just reprehensible."

    "Who''d ever trust a word from you again?"

    "Shameless. And to think we actually believed your NecroBlitz Tablets were the real deal."

    "Looks like President Carmichael was right to p you earlier. If anything, she went too easy on you."

    All the while, Scales stood by, watching coldly as Kali was bombarded with usations. When it seemed everyone had vented their anger, he finally spoke up, his tone deliberately calm in an effort to ease the tension.

    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, my granddaughter lost her head for a moment¡ªyou''ve said your piece, and if anyone still isn''t satisfied, well, do as you see fit. I won''t utter a word in her defense."

    Kali knew she''d made a terrible mistake. She stood silently behind Scales, not daring to say a single word.

    After a moment, when no one replied, Scales took their silence as silent assent.

    He seized the opportunity and said, "It was my granddaughter''s foolishness that caused all this

    trouble tonight. On her behalf,

    apologize to everyone here. Fol

    my

    sake, I ask only that you allow me to take the NecroBlitz Tablets back home with me."

    His words hung in the air while the crowd exchanged nces, their expressionsplicated, but no one spoke.

    The grand hall fell into a tense, uneasy silence.

    Suddenly, Citrine stepped forward, a sly smile on her lips. "Scales, I suppose you haven''t heard-Kali''s NecroBlitz Tablets have already been auctioned off for a staggering eighty billion dors."

    Of course Scales knew. His words had merely been an attempt to gracefully back out of the situation-and, more importantly, a message to the new owner of the tablets.

    His eyes narrowed, gaze sharp as he fixed them on Citrine. "President Carmichael, I''ve already said it was my foolish granddaughter''s blunder. Must you really be so relentless?"

    Citrine nced over her shoulder at Sebastian, then smiled sweetly. "You should be saying that to President Vesper, not me. He''s the real victim here.¡±

    She turned to both men, her voice pointed. "Just a reminder: once an item''s been sold at auction, it can''t be resold. If there''s any dispute, the only way out is double

    vet

    She looked deliberately at Sebastian. "Isn''t that right, President Vesper?"

    Sebastian, the so-called unlucky winner, raised his head slightly, shooting Citrine a deep, unreadable look before turning to Scales. His voice was cool and detached. The auction house has its own rutes. Your granddaughter made her mistake, now she has to live with the consequences."

    "So President Vesper won''t do me this little favor?" Scales asked, sizing up the unfamiliar face before him with a flicker of contempt, clearly underestimating Sebastian''s influence.

    His tone turned sour. "Doublepensation isn''t an option. The Glenwood family simply doesn''t have that kind of money."

 Chapter 524

    It was obvious now: Scales had no intention of paying up.

    A subtle shift ran through the crowd as everyone turned their eyes on him.

    The Glenwood family might be the wealthiest in Crestwood, and the Glenwood Group certainly ranked among the city''s top businesses, but Crestwood was a ce teeming with hidden talents and powerful, low-key enterprises-like C. Corp and Steris Group.

    Steris Group wasn''t just powerful; its chairman also happened to be the head of the Shadow Syndicate. Even the mighty Glenwood family had to tread carefully around them.

    So when Scales spoke so bluntly, it came across as downright arrogant.

    Someone finally broke the tension and reminded him quietly, "Scales... he''s the chairman of Steris Group."

    What? He''s the chairman of Steris Group?

    A flicker of disbelief crossed Scales''s face. For a moment, he couldn''t quite process it.

    Almost instinctively, his sharp gaze zeroed in on Kali.

    Kali felt a chill run down her spine, but she nodded honestly.

    Scales''s expression darkened.

    Damn it. Of all the people to cross, why did it have to be him?

    Regret washed over him-he should''ve cut ties with that idiot Kali ages ago.

    Quicklyposing himself, Scales forced a smile and turned to Sebastian, offering an apology. "My apologies, President Vesper. I was blind to your status." Sebastian didn''t even bother to look up. His voice was cold, indifferent. "ording to the rules-doublepensation. Not a cent less."

    Scales''s frown deepened. He tried to haggle. "President Vesper, if I''m being honest, I just don''t have that kind of money on hand. Eight hundred million is my absolute limit."

    He wasn''t lying. Most of the Glenwood family''s assets were tied up in thepany; even scraping together eight hundred million would mean selling off several properties.

    Sebastian let out a coldugh and offered a solution. "Then put up Glenwood Group shares as coteral."

    Scales''s face changed immediately. He shot back without hesitation, "No way. Absolutely not."

    Sebastian, having lost his patience, snapped, "Then hand over the form. Even

    if it''s iplete, you must have some sort of documentation."

    The whole reason Sebastian had bid

    on the NecroBlitz Tablets was to reverse-engineer the form. He hadn''t expected it to be a

    half-finished product, but even so, he wasn''t about to walk away empty-handed.

    At the mention of the form, Scales''s face grew grim.

    After a long pause, he put on a mournful act. "There is no form. The chemist who developed it passed away."

    Sebastian froze, silent for a long moment.

    Scales forced a bitter smile, finally giving up the charade. "President Vesper, I can''t give you the form."

    "As for the NecroBlitz Tablets, since you''ve already won the bid, they''re yours." Even as he spoke, a sh of pain crossed his eyes.

    If only Mirage Cay had kept a better watch on that girl all those years ago, the NecroBlitz Tablets would have been perfected by now, and the Glenwood Group would be swimming in profits.

    But that person was gone.

    For years, Scates had held onto the

    §Ö§ä

    half-finished NecroBlitz Tablets, hoping that someday, someone couldplete the research. He''d contacted countlessbs, but none had managed to crack it. And now, after today''s disaster-and after offending President Vesper-it was time to let go.

    He shot Kalra look, his eyes cold with finality. "Kali was the one who messed up. Our family already cut all ties with her. If you have any issues, take them up with her. Do whatever you want."

 Chapter 525

    Scales hadn''te here to rescue Kali. From the very beginning, his only goal was to retrieve the unfinished NecroBlitz Tablets that had yet to be fully

    developed.

    But now, he''d changed his mind.

    After all these years, if he still hadn''t managed toplete the NecroBlitz Tablets, maybe it was time to let go. And since he''d already made an enemy of President Vesper, what difference did it make if he went all in?

    This whole mess was Kali''s doing. She should be the one to take responsibility for

    it.

    Sebastian remained silent, but the flicker in his eyes betrayed the turmoil

    simmering within. He stared hard at Citrine, who wore a knowing, almost amused expression, as if she''d predicted everything would y out exactly like this. Her earlier move to raise the price-he realized now-had been a ploy to set him up as the fall guy.

    Unbelievable. She''d yed him, and it was the first time in years he''d been caught off guard like this.

    The men standing near him exchanged uneasy nces. Seeing their usuallyposed chairman looking so grim, one of them couldn''t help but swallow nervously. When their boss wore that expression, it almost always meant he was seething inside.

    At that moment, someone suddenly recalled Citrine''s words from earlier.

    "President Carmichael, since the NecroBlitz Tablets Kali brought are iplete and toxic, can you tell us whether the ones in your possession are real or fake?"

    "And you imed you were the one who developed them. Do you have any proof?"

    Scales snapped his head toward Citrine. "What''s that supposed to mean?" "What does the NecroBlitz Tablets have to do with President Carmichael?"

    Citrine ignored him. Instead, Theo stepped forward and quietly filled Scales in on what had actually happened.

    By the time Theo finished, Scales looked at Citrine in utter disbelief.

    "No way. There''s no way she could have developed the NecroBlitz Tablets." As far as he knew, only one person in the world had ever known the full form-and that person was long dead.

    Citrine, unruffled by his shock, finally spoke up. "The NecroBlitz Tablets I have are genuine. As for proof... would being able to write out the entire form count?"

    The room fell silent as both Sebastian and Scales turned to look at her.

    "You''re saying you can write down theplete form for the NecroBlitz Tablets?" Scales asked, unable to hide his skepticism.

    "Of course," Citrine replied simply.

    She gestured to a member of the staff nearby. "Could you bring me some paper and a pen?"

    Within moments, a notepad and pen were brought over. Citrine took them and immediately began to write. Less than five minutester, she set her pen down and handed the sheet directly to Scales.

    He took the paper, visibly stunned, and his astonishment only grew as the form was passed around the room.

    But Scales wasn''t ready to give in. "Even if you wrote out the form, how can we be sure it''s authentic?"

    No sooner had the words left his mouth than a booming voice echoed from the back of the room.

    "If she says it''s real, it''s real. Who are you to demand proof?"

    Guests turned in surprise to see a group of sharply dressed

    middle-aged men entering through the doors. The man in the center, with sticked-back hair and an unmistakable air of authority was the one who had spoken.

    Recognition spread through the crowd in a wave.

    "Oh my God, that''s the director of Crestwood Medical Research Center! What''s he doing here?"

    "And those men behind him are from the same center-I''ve seen their photos online."

    "Aren''t those Crestwood doctors notorious for avoiding social events? Why show up tonight?"

    Crestwood Medical Research Center was revered as the pinnacle of the medical world. Everyone wanted to be in their good graces; even if they couldn''t win their favor, they certainly didn''t want to make enemies of them.

    After all, Crestwood''s medical team and their treatments were the most advanced in the entire region. Over the years, they''d tackled and cured diseases no one else could. But not everyone had the privilege of being treated at Crestwood. They had a rule-one they enforced without exception: every specialist could choose which patients to ept. No matter how wealthy or powerful a

    person was, the doctors had the

    right to refuse them.

 Chapter 526

    In Crestwood, no matter how wealthy or powerful you were, there was one line no one dared to cross: you never offended anyone from the Crestwood Medical Research Center. After all, who could guarantee they''d never get sick in their lifetime?

    For years, Scales had struggled with poor health. He''d always wanted treatment at the Crestwood Medical Research Center, hoping their renowned care could help him recover, but he''d been turned away again and again.

    Now, spotting the director of the prestigious center among the guests, Scales couldn''t hide his excitement. He strode forward, hand outstretched.

    "Dr. Nathanael, it''s an honor to finally meet you."

    But Nathanael didn''t even nce in his direction. He walked right past Scales without a word and stopped in front of Citrine.

    Bowing his head, Nathanael spoke quietly to her. "Chairwoman, I''m so sorry we''rete."

    Citrine didn''t seem bothered in the slightest. She replied softly, "It''s nothing. No harm done."

    Watching Nathanael and Citrine chat so familiarly, Scales'' face twisted with envy and frustration, though he forced himself to remainposed.

    All around, the other guests were stunned.

    "What''s going on here? Did Nathanael reallye here today just for President Carmichael?"

    "They look like they know each other really well."

    "Is it just me, or does Nathanael seem almost overly respectful toward President Carmichael?"

    Whispers rippled through the crowd.

    Then, Nathanael stepped forward and addressed everyone, his tone clear and authoritative. "I''d like to make something clear: the NecroBlitz Tablets were indeed developed by President Carmichael. There''s no doubt about it."

    With the director of Crestwood Medical Research Center himself vouching for her, no one could possibly question the im.

    The way people looked at Citrine changed instantly-admiration and awe flickering in their eyes.

    First she''d created Vitaflux, and now NecroBlitz Tablets. President Carmichael was the real deal.

    Who could have imagined an eighteen-year-old college student would achieve so much?

    Almost everyone in the room believed it-everyone except Scales, who reacted with sudden intensity.

    He fixed Nathanael and his group with a cold, sharp stare. "Impossible. The scientist who created NecroBlitz Tablets is dead."

    He knew he was sure the only person capable of creating NecroBlitz Tablets had died fleeing Mirage Cay. There was no way Citrine could be the one behind it.

    Only Citrine understood what Scales meant; to everyone else, his words just sounded like nonsense.

    "Enough," Nathanael cut in sharply, thinking Scales was cursing Citrine. His eyes shed with anger.

    He looked Scales dead in the eye, his

    voice icy and direct. "NecroBlitz

    Tablets were developed by President Carmichael in the Crestwood

    Medical Research Center''s ownb. I was there, assisting her myself. Are you using me of lying?"

    A sudden thought struck him, and he continued, "Even if you don''t believe me, do you really think I''d risk the

    Pn

    reputation of the entire researche

    center? If there were any problems with President Carmichael''s NecroBlitz Tablets, my colleagues and I would all be held ountable. Do you think I''m stupid enough to destroy my own career and the center''s future just to back up a false im?"

    The crowd was silent, but the effect was instant: any lingering doubts evaporated. Scales had nothing left to say.

    Citrine spoke up, her tone cool andposed. "If there are no further questions, let''s proceed with the auction."

    She signaled discreetly to the

    vel

    auctioneer, who finally stepped forward. "Thest item up for

    bidding: NecroBlitz Tablets. Starting bid: eight hundred million.

    The room erupted in shock; some guests nearly choked on their drinks.

    "Eight hundred million? Is this a joke?"

    "That''s daylight robbery!"

    "My entire family''s assetsbined don''te close to eight hundred million!"

 Chapter 527

    Citrine shot Kali a sly smile before speaking, her tone unhurried. "If a prototype could fetch eight hundred billion at auction, then starting the bidding for mypleted NecroBlitz Tablets at the same price doesn''t seem unreasonable, does it?"

    She looked around the room, eyes glinting, and picked someone at random. "Mr. Fuller, what do you think? Am I being unreasonable?"

    Mr. Fuller froze, caught off guard. "N-no... not at all."

    He was one of the skeptics who''d doubted Citrine''s NecroBlitz Tablets were genuine. Now, it was painfully clear to him that President Carmichael had singled him out on purpose. Wiping a nervous bead of sweat from his brow, he addressed the crowd. "Even Kali''s iplete NecroBlitz Tablets went for eight hundred billion. Of course President Carmichael''s fully developed one is worth far more. Besides, everyone here just finished doubting whether her NecroBlitz Tablets were even real. I imagine that was disappointing for President Carmichael. Setting the starting price at eight hundred billion is more than fair, given the circumstances."

    The guests exchanged uneasy nces, suddenly understanding. President Carmichael had set the price high-perhaps as a rebuke for their earlier suspicions, or maybe as a warning against their opportunistic behavior. Either way, the message was clear.

    Almost in unison, the crowd rushed to agree.

    "NecroBlitz Tablets are already a rare medicine the only known drug that can destroy Al cells. President Carmichael''s opening bid is entirely reasonable."

    "Exactly. If that defective Vitaflux pill could fetch eight hundred billion, then the real thing deserves at least as much."

    "President Carmichael didn''t have to bring out such a precious medicine for auction. The fact that she did proves her generosity. I support her decision."

    "I agree. President Carmichael has my support."

    Citrine smiled faintly, taking in the chorus of approval. ¡°Good. If there are no objections, let''s begin."

    The auction started in earnest.

    Scales was first to speak. "Eight hundred and eighty billion."

    Mr. Shaw from Crestwood Hospital immediately followed. "Nine hundred billion.¡±

    Sebastian raised the stakes. "One trillion."

    Scales hesitated, then gritted his teeth. "One point eight trillion."

    Mr. Shaw was quick to counter. "Three trillion."

    Then Sebastian held up his paddle and, without hesitation, called out his absolute limit. "Ten trillion."

    The room fell silent. No one else bid.

    Though every guest was wealthy beyond measure, ten trillion was a sum few could muster.

    Seeing no further bids, the auctioneer brought the gavel down. ¡°Ten trillion. NecroBlitz Tablets sold to Mr. Vesper."

    With the auction concluded, the guests drifted into the grand hall for the evening''s festivities.

    Citrine, finding the chatter tedious, slipped outside to the garden for some air. Everyone else was inside, busyworking, the garden deserted and peaceful.

    After making sure she was alone, Citrine pulled a slim case from her purse and took out ady''s cigarette. Her long, fair fingers moved with practiced ease as she brought it to her tips and exhaled a plume of smoke.

    A gentle breeze rustled the trees overhead. Standing beneath their swaying branches, Citrine savored the slow burn of nicotine, her posture rxed, almostnguid.

    Her eyes, distant and unreadable, carried a cold, dangerous allure.

    That was the scene Sebastian stumbled upon.

    This woman was nothing like anyone he''d ever met.

    The first time they''d crossed paths, he''d mistaken her for just another CICI Group employee. He''d been used as bait for piranhas, and then stabbed in the chest by her own hand.

    Only tonight, during this second encounter, did he finally see her for who she truly was-not only the chairwoman of CICI Group and the creato of NecroBlitz Tablets, but also someone with mysterious, tangled ties to Crestwood Medical Research Center.

 Chapter 528

    She was young, but her mind was as deep as a well and her methods sharp. Most of all, she never forgot a slight.

    Today, Sebastian had paid dearly for crossing her.

    Just then, Citrine sensed someone nearby. She stubbed out her cigarette with deliberate calm and called out, "Who''s there?"

    Sebastian sauntered into view, unhurried as ever.

    She wasn''t surprised-it was always him.

    With a wry smile, Citrine turned to face him. "Did youe to settle the score with me, President Vesper?"

    Sebastian''s gaze wasplicated, emotions shifting behind his eyes. "You knew all along that Kali''s NecroBlitz Tablets were unfinished. You also knew Kali had been kicked out of the Glenwood family. Still, you drove up the price, had me bid eight hundred billion, and left me holding a worthless deal. Tell me, don''t you think you owe me an exnation?" His eyes narrowed, steel glinting in the depths.

    Citrine met his stare, feigning innocence. "I never forced you to keep bidding, did I? How could that be my fault?"

    Sebastian red at her, but for once, he was at a loss for words.

    She reminded him of a cunning fox-clever, sly, impossible to catch.

    He''d never encountered a woman so difficult to handle.

    After a moment, he spoke again, his tone measured. "President Carmichael, you really are something. You used me, you used the Glenwoods, and now you''ve set our two families at odds."

    Citrine finally lifted hershes, a faint smile on her lips as she replied, "You already have Steris Group and the Shadow Syndicate behind you. The Glenwoods can''t really touch you."

    Sebastian''s mouth curled into a rare smile, and there was a glimmer of respect in his eyes.

    He paused, then his voice dropped, bing almost conspiratorial. "President Carmichael, join the Shadow Syndicate. I can give you anything you want."

    Citrine burst outughing-she couldn''t help herself. Only a short while ago the two of them had practically been at each other''s

    throats "I appreciate teel

    President Vesper. But I''m used to getting what I want on my own. I don''t need to rely on anyone else.¡±

    She leaned in, her tone light but pointed. "Besides, you should know¡ªI''m building

    my own business alliance. Blood Rain is recruiting new partners."

    Her meaning was clear, and Sebastian''s smile faded in an instant.

    After leaving the back garden, Citrine made her way to the main hall.

    No sooner had she returned than the entire party seemed to revolve around her. Guests flocked over, eager to introduce themselves, each hoping to leave a good impression.

    Citrine had never been fond of small

    talk, especially tonight-she''d

    already picked out thepanies she wanted for Blood Rain. After a few polite remarks, she excused herself, slipping away from the crowd.

    She found a quiet corner, somewhere she wouldn''t be noticed, and helped herself to some fruit and a slice of cake, savoring the peace.

    She''d just taken her first bite when, from across the room, a cheerful voice called out, "Citrine!"

    Looking up, she saw Monica and her brother Wade making their way toward her.

    Monica looked worried as she hurried over. "Citrine, where did you disappear to? We''ve been searching everywhere for you! You gave us a real scare."

    Citrine couldn''t understand why Monica seemed so anxious, but she smiled and reassured her, "I just needed some fresh air. Went out to the garden for a bit."

    Monica finally rxed, grinning. "Oh, thank goodness. We were worried someone might upset you since we weren''t around."

    Noticing Citrine''s confusion, Monicaughed and exined, "Aunt made us promise to look after you. If anyone gives you trouble or upsets you, she''ll have our heads

 Chapter 529

    A ying? Surely it won''te to that, right?

    Citrine could sense both respect and a hint of fear in Monica''s tone whenever she spoke of Hilda.

    Trying to picture her aunt, Citrine ventured carefully, "Is your aunt really that terrifying? She never seemed harsh to me."

    Her own experience with Hilda had always been gentle and kind-Citrine remembered soft words and warm smiles. What she didn''t realize was that Hilda reserved that tenderness for her alone.

    Wade''s eyes widened in disbelief at Citrine''s question. "Terrifying? That''s an understatement. When Aunt Hilda loses her temper, she''s downright savage."

    "You have no idea, sis. I grew up under her iron rule. The worst time? She broke several of my ribs. No joke."

    He was just getting into the story when Monica pinched his arm, hard.

    She shot him a re and hissed, "Why would you say that? Do you want to scare Citrine off?"

    Wade instantly shut up, rubbing his arm sheepishly.

    Monica, worried she''d just ruined the image of their aunt in Citrine''s mind, hurried to exin, "Don''t listen to him, Citrine. Aunt Hilda has a temper, sure, but she''s not some unreasonable tyrant. And that business with Wade''s ribs? He kept sneaking out for illegal street races, nearly got himself killed. Aunt Hilda only lost it because she was scared out of her mind."

    She tried to reassure Citrine further. "Honestly, our aunt is strict with us, really strict sometimes, and yeah, she''s got a heavy hand. But she never punishes us out of nowhere. We''re all a little afraid of her, but we respect her, too."

    Monica grew solemn, meeting Citrine''s gaze. "She might not be an easy person, and maybe she isn''t the world''s best aunt, but she is, without a doubt, the best mother anyone could ask for."

    Monica knew her aunt''s pride-how Hilda would never allow herself to show vulnerability in front of others. As for Citrine, though they hadn''t known each other long, Monica could already sense the same stubborn streak, the same fierce pride that ran through her aunt.

    Two people that proud would never say these things out loud¡ªsomeone had to speak for them.

    As Monica finished, Citrine''s eyes grew colder, her expression shuttered.

    Monica understood. Her little sister was fiercely guarded, and she could feel Citrine''s reluctance to ept the Saunders family. But some things needed to be said, no matter what.

    "Citrine," Monica said softly, "you were born into our family with so much hope and love. We all care for you, but no one loves you more than Aunt Hilda."

    "When she got back from a business trip to Havencrest, she found out she was pregnant. She was only in her early twenties. The moment she knew she wasn''t scared-she was thrilled. She told the whole family that day and insisted she was keeping you, even though everyone

    else was stunned. But they

    respected her choice."

    "Back then, Aunt Hilda wasn''t head of the Saunders family yet. She was your typical rich kid-partying, racing cars, drinking, and smoking with her friends But the moment she found out about you, she quit everything. No more cigarettes, no more alcohol, no more reckless driving. Instead, she spent her days shopping for baby clothes or

    decorating your nursery, sometimes getting lost in there for hours, talking to herself. I asked her once what she was doing, and she said she was telling stories to the baby in her belly."

    "She had terrible morning sickness, and the whole family was worried, but she was just happy. She said it meant you were talking to her, so every time she got sick, she''d sit

    §Ú§Þ

    down and write you a letter. She did that through her entire pregnancy-never missed a day."

 Chapter 530

    "When you were born, our whole family was overjoyed. Even though your aunt was still recovering after giving birth herself, she insisted on holding you every day."

    "No one could''ve imagined what would happen at your one-month celebration. The family''s nanny stole you away. By the time your aunt tracked her down, the nanny was already dead-and you had vanished without a trace. The whole family was devastated, but your aunt took it the hardest. She med herself for not protecting you and stopped eating or drinking, searching for you day and night. She lost so much weight, and people would hear her calling your name in her sleep."

    "After you disappeared, that carefree, reckless aunt of yours seemed to grow up overnight. She believed it was her own ipetence that let you be taken, so she threw herself into learning about business, working hard to make money. The cheerful, outgoing woman she once was disappeared, reced by someone calm, sharp, and even a little ruthless."

    "Citrine, your aunt never stopped looking for you all these years. I''m not saying this for any other reason-I just want you to know that she''s always loved you."

    Citrine''s emotions churned beneath the surface. Her hand, resting at her side, unconsciously clenched tighter.

    "Thank you for telling me this."

    Citrine couldn''t help but be moved by these words, but what she felt even more strongly was pain. Her own life had been shaped by suffering; she couldn''t empathize with Hilda, nor could she force herself to feel the kind of mother- daughter bond Monica spoke of.

    So she did what she always did she chose to run.

    Seeing that Citrine wasn''tpletely unmoved, Monica ventured, "Citrine, would you like toe home with us tomorrow? Have dinner with the Saunders family?" Wade chimed in, "Citrine, Grandpa and Grandma have been hoping you''d visit."

    The two watched her with hopeful, expectant eyes.

    But Citrine''s mood couldn''t have been worse. In fact, she was barely holding it together. She nced at Monica, her gaze icy cold.

    "No."

    Monica and Wade were taken aback by Citrine''s sudden chilliness. Ever since they''d met her, they''d never seen her wear that expression.

    There was something almost hostile in her indifference.

    "Citrine? What''s wrong?" Monica''s face fell, hurt creeping into her voice as she realized her sister''s aversion.

    Before Monica could finish, Citrine cut her off sharply.

    ¡°I don''t know any of you Saunders people, and I''d appreciate it if you all kept your distance."

    She got up and left before Monica or Wade could react.

    They watched her go, regret and sorrow etched on their faces.

    After Citrine disappeared from sight, Monica let out a bitterugh. "I think I''ve really messed things up. She probably hates me now." Her eyes burned with the urge to cry

    "It feels like we''re just pushing her farther and farther away," Wade said, his usual boisterousness gone, reced with a heavy gloom.

    As the siblings sat there in silence, two people approached and sat down across from them without a word.

    Remembering the conversation she''d just overheard, Kali curled her lips into a sly smile and said, ¡°Miss Saunders, Mr. Saunders, we heard everything you just said."

    Monica, already having no fondness for the pair-both of whom had bullied Citrine in the past-red at them, her tone curt and impatient. "And what exactly did you hear?"

    Kali smiled sweetly, her words dripping with false sympathy. "The two of you were kind enough to invite Citrine home, and not only did she refuse, she even gave you the cold shoulder. Honestly, some people just don''t know how to appreciate kindness."

 Chapter 531

    Wade''s face twisted with fury as soon as he heard Kali''s words. Without thinking, he snatched up Citrine''s half-finished drink and flung it right at Kali''s face.

    He red at her, his tone venomous. "Who the hell are you calling ungrateful? Don''t think for a second that just because you''re a woman, I won''ty a hand on you."

    Kali froze, the cold liquid dripping down her cheeks, her expression hardening by the second. She fought to keep her temper in check, pushing aside her damp hair and forcing a pleasant tone. "Mr. Saunders, don''t be angry. I''m only upset for you and your sister''s sake."

    "After all, you two have been nothing but kind to Citrine, but she just doesn''t seem to appreciate it."

    Wade was about tosh out again when Monica raised a hand to stop him.

    Monica rose from her seat, fixing Kali with a cool, enigmatic stare. "So, what is it you actually want from us?"

    Kali smiled, her tone syrupy. "Miss Saunders, we really don''t have any ulterior motives. We just happened to witness how sincerely you both invited Citrine, only to be met with her cold shoulder. It was hard to watch, that''s all."

    "Is that all? Just hard to watch?" Monica''s eyes narrowed, her voice frosty.

    Kali didn''t notice the change in Monica''s expression; instead, she leaned in, growing more animated. "Miss Saunders, maybe you don''t know, but Citrine is quite infamous at Crestwood University. Ever since freshman orientation, she''s been tangled up with all sorts of older and younger guys. Even Hastings¡ªthe one I''ve known since childhood-fell head over heels for her. The whole campus gossips about her wild personal life.¡±

    She continued, "Miss Saunders, Mr. Saunders, this is the real Citrine. You don''t know what she''s really like-you''ve been fooled by her."

    She''s nothing but a scheming tramp, Kali thought. The only reason the Saunders siblings even bother with her is because she''s the CEO of CICI Group.

    The Saunders family actually treated her with some respect, and yet she had the nerve to snub them.

    Monica had spent years working under Hilda, adopting her mentor''s pride and ruthless precision. Wade might be a spoiled trust-fund brat, but he was hardly someone who''d leta challenge slide.

    Kali simply couldn''t believe that two proud,bative people like the Saunders siblings would just shrug off Citrine''s attitude.

    Now, both Monica and Wade''s faces were contorted with barely contained rage, struggling not to throttle Kali right then and there.

    They wanted to see just what Kali was really after.

    A sly look shed in Kali''s eyes as she faced the siblings. She took the initiative, her voiceced with malice. "Miss Saunders, Citrine is a fraud. Why not let me teach that arrogant little upstart a lesson?"

    She looked at them hopefully, desperation flickering beneath her bravado.

    Now that she Host Scales''s

    favor-and after what he said at the auction, he''d likely announce their breakup to everyone tonight-she had nothing left. But if she could use this chance to ingratiate herself with the Saunders family, maybe she wouldn''t be so alone at Crestwood after all.

    "And how exactly do you n on teaching her a lesson?" Monica ground out, her words barely more than a snarl.

    "I..." Kali hesitated, then caught herself. "Don''t worry about it. I promise, by the

    time I''m done, her reputation will be ruined."

    Monica pressed her for details, but Kali refused to say any more.

    At that, Monica and Wade exchanged a knowing look.

    Without warning, Wade grabbed a fistful of Kali''s hair and dragged her roughly in front of Monica.

    "What the hell are you doing? Let go of me!" Kali stared at Wade in shock and outrage, struggling to wrench her hair free from his grip.

 Chapter 532

    Monica deliberately stuck out her foot, and Kali, thrown off bnce, stumbled andnded hard on her knees-right in front of Monica.

    "Who do you think you are to nder her?" Before Kali could even lift her head, Monica pressed her foot down on Kali''s thigh, pinning her in ce, then pped her across the face-hard.

    "You''re nothing but a stray mutt, kicked out by the Glenwood family. You really think you have the right to talk about her? How dare you bark in front of me."

    Monica kept pping, one blow after another, until Kali''s face was so swollen and bruised it was almost unrecognizable.

    It had already been battered earlier by Citrine, but after Monica''s assault, Kali''s face was a grotesque mess.

    Monica nced down, satisfied, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. "Now that''s a better look for you."

    Wade, who''d been sitting off to the side watching the whole thing without a hint of sympathy, sneered, "Spreading rumors about Citrine? You should count yourself lucky I''m a guy. If I weren''t, I''d beat you to a pulp myself."

    Kali clutched her face, both ears ringing, misery flooding her senses.

    In that moment, regret stabbed through her¡ªshe should never have messed with these two.

    They were just as rotten as that bitch Citrine; it was obvious they were all in on it together.

    Terrified Monica might start hitting her again, Kali scrambled to her feet and tried to escape.

    "Hey. Come back here." Monica''s voice rang out sharply behind her.

    Kali froze mid-step.

    "I''m warning you if you so much as breathe wrong in Citrine''s direction, you''ll regret it," Monica said, her tone ice-cold.

    Kali shuddered, humiliation burning through her. She forced herself not to break down, then bolted from the room.

    She didn''t bother staying at the party-she went straight home.

    The moment she shut the door behind her, she finally broke, copsing onto her bed and sobbing into her pillow.

    A few minutester, Jete caught up. The front door was still ajar, so she walked right in.

    Seeing Kali curled up and crying, Jete hesitated, then asked quietly, "So... are we still following through with the n?"

    Kali''s sobs cut off abruptly. She

    lifted her swollen, battered face-so bruised it was almost

    grotesque-and spat out,

    Of course.

    After what she did to me, I have to

    make her pay."

    Jete looked uneasy. "But... what about Miss Saunders''s warning?"

    Dick had already been cast out by the Glenwood family. Their family had lost all support.

    But Kali was different-she still had her brother looking out for her.

    Kali caught Jete''s worried nce and said, "Don''t worry, I''ll handle it myself. You won''t have to do anything."

    She paused, then added, "But... this could get your dad involved. Are you sure you won''t regret it?"

    Jete hesitated, then shook her head firmly. "No regrets. He''s already got more than enough dirt on him-one more scandal won''t make a difference."

    Kali said nothing more. She opened herptop and, using a burner ount, uploaded the video to Twitter.

    When that was done, she pulled up her phone, snapped a few carefully angled shots of her battered face with a beauty filter, and sent them to Quentin.

    Kali: "Quentin, look what they did to my face [crying emoji]."

    Across town, Quentin was out drinking with friends when her message shed on

    his screen. His expression darkened instantly.

    Quentin: "Kali, tell me who hurt you. I swear to God, I''ll make them pay."

    Kali: "Quentin, went to the Watkins family''s charity g tonight and identally offended Citrine Carmichael. You know she''s the CEO of CICI Group now. She was furious, and I couldn''t do anything to stop her."

    Kali: "I''m sorry, Quentin... I shouldn''t

    have said so much. Just pretend you never heard any of this, okay? Please don''t get on President michael''s bad side because of me."

 Chapter 533

    At that moment, Quentin''s other hand tightened around the wine bottle. With a sudden squeeze, ss shattered in his palm, shards mixed with red wine spilling all over the floor.

    His friends jumped back, startled.

    "Quentin, what''s gotten into you?"

    "Who dares mess with Quentin? They must have a death wish."

    "Just say the word, Quentin. We''ll take care of whoever''s bothering you!"

    Quentin shot them a cold nce, his tone icy. "I don''t need you. I''ll handle it myself."

    With that, he pulled out his phone and shot off a message to Kali:

    "Don''t worry, Kali. I''ll make sure Citrine Carmichael pays for what she''s done. I promise you''ll get your revenge."

    On the other side of town, Kali read his message and finally felt a weight lift from her chest.

    No one had a hotter temper than Quentin. With him involved and with that video circting tonight was bound to get interesting.

    Just thinking about it made her too excited to sleep.

    Meanwhile, at the Watkins family''s g-

    After a tense confrontation with the Saunders siblings, Citrine slipped away to find some fresh air.

    Back in the ballroom, guests clustered in small groups, faces lit by their phone screens, expressions ranging from shocked to gleeful.

    As the video finished ying, a low buzz of gossip swept the room.

    "Who''d have guessed President Carmichael was that kind of person?"

    "She''s got such an innocent face, those cold eyes-who would have thought she was such a wild one in private?"

    "How old was she in that video, maybe twelve? Seducing her own teacher at that age-disgusting."

    "With a scandal like this, just watch-CICI Group''s stock is about to tank."

    "Thank God ourpany never partnered with them. Who knows what mess we''d be dragged into?"

    "If she''s already this maniptive, using people like that, can''t imagine what her character''s really like. Who''d dare do business with CICI after this?"

    Monica and Wade, having just seen the video themselves, rushed in and caught the tail end of the crowd''s whispering.

    Without hesitation, Wade strode up

    and grabbed one older man by the cor, shoving him against the balcony railing. His voice was cold and sharp: "Who the hell do you think you are, old man? Say one more word about Citrine and I''ll

    break your damn jaw."

    Monica red at the rest. "If I hear any more of this garbage, don''t me the Saunders family for getting nasty."

    When Citrine returned to the ballroom, the room fell silent.

    She immediately noticed the shift in the way everyone looked at her. Their stares were sharp, ufortable¡ªalmost hostile.

    She frowned, keeping her expression neutral. "Why is everyone staring at me? Do

    I have something on my face?"

    No one answered. The silence was heavier than before.

    Only half an hour ago, these same people had been eager to tter her, to get close. Now, their gazes were cold as if she were something filthy

    Sing out of the gutter

    Citrine still didn''t know the reason. Just then, Mr. Shaw from Crestwood Hospital approached, holding out his phone.

    "President Carmichael, you should see this."

    Monica and Wade both nched. Monica rushed over, grabbing Citrine''s wrist,

    her voice tense. "Citrine, don''t look."

    Citrine gently shook her off and took the phone. The screen showed a social media post:

    #Famous young businesswoman,

    honor student at a top university, caught behaving inappropriately since childhood-seducing her own teacher. Not only a disgrace to business leaders, but also to college students. The university should expel her.

    Thements below were even worse. Mr. Shaw, seeing how young Citrine was,

    tried to take back the phone, worried she couldn''t handle it.

    But Citrine held on, scrolling further. Everyment was a fresh wound.

    "Trash like this doesn''t deserve to live."

    "What a disgrace. And she''s supposed to be Crestwood University''s pride? The school needs to make an example out of her."

 Chapter 534

    "She''s already a little seductress at her age. No wonder her parents are such lowlifes."

    "I have no clue how someone like her ever got into an Ivy League school, let alone became a CEO."

    "Absolutely disgusting. If I had a daughter like that, I''d rather strangle her myself."

    ...

    Citrine scrolled through a handful of thements, expression unchanged. After

    a moment, she handed the phone back to Mr. Shaw.

    "Thank you, Mr. Shaw," she said politely.

    "N-no problem." Mr. Shaw had expected her to break down after reading the online vitriol, but Citrine remained asposed as ever, as if none of it even registered.

    Even Hawley couldn''t help but respect her self-control. Most kids would have fallen apart¡ªfacing this at her age and keeping her cool? With that kind of grit, it was no wonder she''d achieved so much already.

    Still, Hawley didn''t believe the rumors for a second. He hesitated, then spoke up: "President Carmichael, I''m sure what''s online isn''t true. Maybe you should clear things up for everyone?"

    Just then, a brash voice cut through the room: "It''s true."

    "I had the video analyzed-no sign of editing."

    Quentin strode in, still in his tracksuit, radiating self-assured swagger. He marched straight toward Citrine.

    "That''s Mr. Aldridge."

    "What''s he doing here?"

    A murmur swept the room as people recognized him.

    Quentin pushed past the crowd, stopping right in front of Citrine, jabbing a finger at her face. "Citrine Carmichael, you had iting after what you did to Kali. Now your dirtyundry''s all over social media-how does it feel to be famous for all the wrong reasons?"

    Wade and Monica exchanged nces, realization dawning. In perfect unison, they blurted, "So it really was Kali behind this."

    Citrine didn''t ''t even nce up. Unruffled, she replied in a tone designed to infuriate:

    "Embarrassing? Please. At least it''s not as humiliating as when Mr Aldridge himself went viral in his birthday suit."

    Quentin''s face turned crimson, outrage making his voice tremble. "What the hell did you just say? Shut your damn mouth!"

    Everybody in Crestwood knew: the one thing Quentin Aldridge couldn''t stand was any mention of *that* infamous incident trending online.

    He red at Citrine, seething. This was the second time she''d thrown his scandal back in his face.

    Quentin sneered, "No matter how embarrassing I get, at least I wasn''t seducing my own teacher as a teenager. That''s a whole new level of trashy, President Carmichael."

    His words were harsh, but Citrine didn''t flinch. Instead, she regarded Quentin with

    a slow, almost amused once-over.

    "What are you staring at?" he barked, suddenly self-conscious.

    Citrine pressed her lips together, then smiled faintly. "No wonder Kali sent you.

    Only someone this dumb could pull off exactly what she wanted."

    Quentin gaped at her, incredulous. "Did you just insult me?"

    "So what if I did? Someone''s got to."

    Her dismissive tone only stoked his anger. "Citrine Carmichael, you''re the one who started chasing after, men at your age, and you''re calling me names?"

    Before he could finish, Wade stormed over and punched Quentin hard in the face.

    "Who the hell do you think you are, ndering her? I''ll shut you up for good."

    "Oh, you want to fight?" Quentin spat blood, recognized his opponent, and swung right back.

    Amid the scuffle, Monica rushed to Citrine''s side, voice urgent. "Citrine, tell me the video''s fake. Please."

    Everyone turned, eyes fixed on Citrine, waiting for her to respond.

    She was silent for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet and even. "It''s real."

 Chapter 535

    When Citrine nodded, everyone turned to look at her, a flicker of disdain in their eyes.

    Even Wade froze, momentarily distracted-just long enough for Quentin tond a solid punch on his jaw.

    Quentin sneered with satisfaction. "See? I told you it was true. She''s always been this kind of person."

    Monica shot Quentin a murderous re. Her voice was ice-cold. "Shut up."

    Then she turned to Citrine, her expression earnest and searching. "Citrine, there must be some mistake, right?"

    Citrine didn''t answer immediately. Instead, she reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and, without rushing, opened a video file.

    Her face was calm and unreadable, as if what was about to y had nothing to do with her at all.

    She tapped y.

    The screen showed Citrine as a young teenager, her face in full view, while the man beside her at the piano had his blurred out. Both voices were distorted, cartoonish and unrecognizable.

    In the video, the man sat at the piano while young Citrine stood in front of him, looking up with a bright, innocent smile. "Here, sir, have some water."

    "Thank you, Citrine," the man replied.

    Young Citrine sat down next to him, reached out, and began to stroke his arm back and forth. After a long moment, she looked up, her face guileless. "Do you like that, sir?"

    The man said nothing.

    She shifted her hand to his thigh, still smiling sweetly. "Is this better, sir?"

    The video cut out.

    Nobody expected Citrine to y the video again¡ªespecially not the ones who''d been eager to judge her. Now, even they looked ufortable.

    "You''ve got some nerve reying that. Aren''t you ashamed?"

    ¡°A kid with a mind that filthy... What were her parents teaching her?"

    "This is disgusting, makes me want to puke."

    "That poor piano teacher. Imagine having a student like her."

    "If I were him, I''d lose my appetite for a week."

    Lose your appetite?

    "Well, let me help you with that," Citrine said coolly, fixing her eyes on thest speaker. She strode over, picked up a te of delicate pastries from the table, and unceremoniously shoved one straight into the man''s mouth.

    He choked down the cake, crumbs and cream smeared across his face.

    Citrine finally let go, her lips curling in a cold sneer. "Doesn''t look like you''re having any trouble eating."

    The man was humiliated, fuming as

    he wiped his face. He jabbed a finger

    at Citrine and shouted, "Just

    because you''re the CEO of CICL Group doesn''t mean you can do

    whatever you want! You''re about to

    go down in mes. Don''t get cocky.¡±

    Citrine regarded him coolly, her face unreadable as she tried to recall his name. After a moment, recognition dawned.

    Her eyes brightened and she deliberately raised her voice. "Oh, I should have known! Justin Dixon-a household name in Crestwood.

    Seven years ago, you mana

    the

    only daughter of the Franklin family, and thanks to her, you wormed your way into The Franklin Group. With her family''s support, you went from nobody to industry star. But the moment you made it, you kicked every Franklin out of thepany, reced them with your own family, and even renamed it The Dixon Group. Justin, you''re the very definition of betrayal."

    yoic

    She went on, voice ringing with disdain. "And poor Ms.

    Franklin-pregnant and forced by you to have an abortion. As if that wasn''t enough, the day after the procedure, you dragged her to sign divorce papers, made sure she walked away with nothing, all so you could make room for your mistress."

    ¡°Really fits the saying, doesn''t it? ''My loving wife helped me reach the top, but

    once I had power, I cast her aside for someone new.""

 Chapter 536

    Citrine finished speaking and even gave herself a small round of apuse.

    As her words faded, the crowd''s gaze shifted subtly to Justin. No one spoke, but the atmosphere changed.

    In these elite circles, nothing was more despised than a man who wed his way up by marrying into money. Yet Justin was a different story. He was infamous for being exactly that¡ªa social climber-but he''d always had a ruthless drive and a certain cunning that set him apart. Over the years, he''d built The Dixon Group into a formidable name, earning a grudging respect from the very people who once whispered behind his back.

    Back in the day, people used to call him a gold-digger in private, but as he made The Dixon Group bigger and more sessful, those criticisms faded. If Citrine hadn''t called him out so publicly tonight, most people here would have conveniently forgotten his less-than-glorious beginnings.

    "You¡ªyou''re making things up!" Justin''s face turned red with anger. He hadn''t expected Citrine to air his dirtyundry in front of everyone.

    "You know very well I''m not," Citrine shot him a sharp look, then turned away, done with the conversation.

    Quentin, growing impatient, barked at Citrine, "Citrine Carmichael, you''re the one on trial here-stop trying to change the subject."

    Justin immediately jumped in, "That''s right. Don''t think you can use me as a diversion."

    Quentin turned to the hostess, his voice taking on a cold edge. "Mamie, Citrine Carmichael has always been wild and immoral, even as a child. I think you should throw her out. Someone like her doesn''t belong at a charity g."

    He narrowed his eyes, his toneced with threat. "Mamie, if I remember right,

    your husband''s new project is with The Aldridge Group, isn''t it?"

    Mamie clenched her fists, herposure slipping. Her family was one of the most respected in Crestwood; she''d never been threatened like this before.

    "So you''re threatening me?" she shot back.

    Quentin shrugged, careless. "And what if I am? Or do you actually want to defend Citrine Carmichael?"

    Mamie''s lips curled in a cold smile. Without another word, she pulled out her phone and stepped aside to call her husband. "Honey, I''m sorry, I might be about to make a mess of things¡ªbut I have to do it," she said, nearly grinding her teeth in frustration.

    These bastards, ganging up on someone she cared about as if she''d just stand by

    and watch¡ªit was intolerable. She''d put up with it long enough.

    Even if it cost her marriage, she''d stand by Citrine tonight.

    Mamie hung up and lifted her chin, meeting Quentin''s gaze. "What did you just say?"

    Quentin sneered, repeating himself. "Are you really going to stand up for Citrine Carmichael?"

    "Yes, I am Mamie said, her voice

    steady and eyes unwavering. "Tonight, I refuse to be a bystander.

    I, Mamie Watkins, stand witho President Carmichael."

    No sooner had she spoken than her daughter Odette chimed in, "Me too. I stand with President Carmichael."

    Then Mr. Shaw from Crestwood Hospital spoke up as well, "Count me in. I believe President Carmichael isn''t that kind of person."

    "Even if that video''s real, there must be more to the story," he added. "She was just a kid¡ªthere''s no way she did it without a reason."

    Wade nodded, "No one knows Citrine better than we do."

    Monica added, "Seeing isn''t always believing. I trust Citrine."

    Citrine had nned to vindicate herself with hard evidence, ready to throw it in the faces of everyone here. She hadn''t expected so many people would step forward to defend her before she even had the chance.

    Silently, she took note of every person who''d spoken up for her, and with genuine

    gratitude, she said, "Thank you all for believing in me."

 Chapter 537

    After that piano lesson ended, she''d spotted a pink hair clip lying on the floor by the door-the same clip that should have been in Jete''s hair.

    From that moment, she knew a day like this was bound toe.

    In the age of information, nothing stays hidden forever. Even though Citrine wished desperately to keep this buried, she understood that, whether she tried to avoid it or not, the truth would eventuallye out.

    So why not take control of the story and shape her image herself?

    Citrine nced at Monica and whispered, "Call all the reporters in here."

    Monica didn''t understand, but she didn''t hesitate; she hurried off to gather them.

    When the reporters had finally assembled, Monica realized what Citrine was nning.

    Gone was Citrine''s usual icyposure. In its ce was the fragile, trembling look of a wounded rabbit. She gazed at the crowd, eyes brimming with tears, unable to stop herself from sobbing.

    "I know everyone''s curious about the video online," she choked out. "Let me rify things. Yes, the video is real, but it''s iplete. As for the rumors about me seducing someone-those are utter nonsense."

    Before thest word had even faded, a reporter fired off a question:

    "President Carmichael, you say the seduction rumors are nonsense. What proof do you have?"

    Another pressed, "President Carmichael, you admit the video is real, but deny trying to seduce your piano teacher. Isn''t that contradictory?"

    The room seemed to close in with pointed questions, cameras shing. Citrine kept up her act of being wronged and aggrieved, letting her voice tremble.

    "I''ll answer your questions," she said, voice quivering, "but first, I want to tell you all a story."

    Someone in the crowd perked up. "What kind of story?"

    She spoke softly, "It''s the story of Snow White and the Evil Queen."

    Interest rippled through the crowd.

    Seeing their curiosity, Citrine began, her tone lingering and wistful, "When I was three, I was adopted by my

    foster father. I went from a

    ragged child to the family''s only little princess. But that didn''tst. One day, my foster father brought home a woman and her daughter. Everything I loved-my toys, my brother, my room, even my foster father''s affection-slowly became theirs. The only princess in the house became my heartless foster sister, and I faded into the background, invisible and unwanted."

    She dabbed at her eyes theatrically and drew a shaky breath, then went on: "Cold stares from the staff, bullying from that mother and daughter, skipped meals-those things happened all the time But one day, out of nowhere, my foster mother, who''d never treated me kindly, decided to hire a piano teacher for me. I loved music, so I was thrilled. I had no idea it would be the start of my nightmare."

    She stopped.

    The reporters, hanging on her every word, were so caught up in the drama that some reached for

    tissues. Then, realizing she''d gone quiet, they called out

    "And then?"

    "What happened next?"

    "Don''t stop there,e on!"

    "We want the rest-don''t leave us hanging!"

    "Seriously, I''ll pay for a premium subscription if you keep going!"

    "My emotions are all in-don''t waste them!"

    Citrine gave a bitter smile. "The rest of the story... is already online."

    The moment she finished speaking, everyone in the room-reporters, guests, even Monica-suddenly caught on.

    "She was telling her own story all along," someone whispered.

    "I was so sucked in, I didn''t realize the connection until just now," another

    admitted.

    A flurry of movement followed as everyone whipped out their phones and scrolled frantically through their news feeds.

 Chapter 538

    Monica and Wade sat frozen, still reeling from Citrine''s story. For years, they had believed their little sister had been living a good life, never imagining the kind of abuse she had suffered in that old house.

    With grim faces, they pulled up Twitter.

    The moment they saw the trending rification, both of them went pale. Tears welled up in their eyes.

    CICI: My piano teacher was Dick. Privately, he was a pedophile who liked to hit people. I was only ten, confused and scared. I just knew that if I didn''t obey, I''d get beaten. What''s so wrong with not wanting to be hurt?

    To tug at people''s hearts even more, Citrine had added a crying emoji at the end. Hands shaking, Monica and Wade clicked on the video.

    It opened with a brutal scene: Citrine being beaten. Previous versions had blurred

    out the abuser''s face, but now, for the first time, Monica and Wade saw him clearly.

    It was Dick.

    They fought the urge to storm out and kill him, forcing themselves to keep watching.

    "Stupid brat, give me your hand."

    "If you don''t, I''ll beat you to death."

    "Hurry up."

    Young Citrine stared Dick down, her eyes icy. "I don''t want to learn piano anymore. Get out."

    Dick gripped his belt tighter, his face twisted with rage as he whipped it across her back. "Say that again, I dare you!"

    Citrine shouted back, her voice full of disgust. "You''re disgusting. Get out of here!" That was thest straw for Dick.

    He grabbed Citrine by the throat, mmed her to the floor, and focused his blows on the parts of her body hidden by clothing.

    By the end, blood was soaking through the back of her shirt. That''s when Citrine finally broke.

    She sobbed, begging, "Please, teacher, I''m sorry. I''ll do whatever you say. Please stop hitting me."

    Then, trembling, she walked over and ced her hand on Dick''s thigh.

    The video ended there. Monica and Wade knew all too well what happened next. No one had seen thising.

    Now, Citrine sat alone on stage, looking heartbreakingly lost.

    The reporters, shocked by the truth, forgot their questions. All they wanted now was tofort her.

    "President Carmichael, we''re so sorry for being so harsh just now."

    "President Carmichael, we apologize. You''re the victim here. We shouldn''t have used you. We chased the story for clicks and forgot it would hurt you."

    "President Carmichael, please don''t be sad. Bad people always get what they deserve."

    "That''s right, President Carmichael. Don''t worry-someone like that will never get away with it."

    ...

    All around, the guests were whispering.

    "That bastard really is named Dick. Talk about living up to the name."

    "So President Carmichael''s piano teacher was Dick. If I''d known it was him, I

    never would have doubted her for a second."

    "That Dick used his connections with

    d.ne

    the Glenwood family to hurt so many girls. Remember the scandals with his wife? They were trending for days and never came down."

    "President Carmichael''s so unlucky. She did nothing wrong, and yet

    people smeared her all over the

    inte. The ones who posted those videos and tried to stir things up are

    just evil."

    Meanwhile, online sleuths started piecing together the story of Snow White and the Evil Queen, bit by bit.

    They dug up every detail about Citrine and the drama with the Havencrest and Iverson families.

    Only now did everyone realize why the story was called ''Snow White and the Evil Queen.''

    "President Carmichael is Snow

    White. Dick was her piano teacher. His daughter, Jete, yed the stepsister. And Dick''s current wife, Aline,

    the Evil Queen. Mr. Iverson

    of Havencrest was the stepfather. Now it all makes sense."

 Chapter 539

    Never underestimate the power of inte users. Within just two minutes, they had dug up everyst dirty secret about the Dick family, from the very beginning right up to the present.

    "Putting the timeline together, Aline was already involved with Dick before she married Mr. Iverson from Havencrest. So she deliberately made Dick the piano teacher for President Carmichael? That''s downright chilling."

    ¡°This woman is vicious. She''ll stop at nothing to get rid of her adoptive daughter. The tricks she''s pulled are despicable. Poor President Carmichael-thank goodness she managed to escape that Iverson family nightmare."

    "There''s not a single decent person in that Dick family. Both Dick and his wife are shameless, and their daughter isn''t any better. Remember when she tried to frame President Carmichael at school? There''s photo and video evidence, and the video''s still online."

    "President Carmichael''s been through hell. She''s the real victim here, and yet people tried to nder her."

    "Whoever posted that video in the first ce deserves to rot."

    "I knew it! Our President Carmichael has always been beautiful, kind, and brilliant.

    No way she''d ever fall for some old creep."

    "The whole Dick family can drop dead. As it happens, my family runs a funeral supply business¡ªI''ll send them three coffins tonight."

    "My family owns a photo studio. I''ll handle their memorial portraits."

    ...

    Public opinion online flipped in an instant. Suddenly, the inte was flooded with condemnation of the Dick family.

    Meanwhile, reporters were broadcasting live as Citrine faced the cameras and addressed everyone present. "Dick hasmitted countless misdeeds and is rotten to the core. I believe I''m not his only victim-there must be many more who have stayed silent out of fear, or for other reasons were never able toe forward."

    "But today, I want to tell you: we are victims, and we are not in the wrong. We don''t have to stay silent-we can use thew to protect ourselves."

    "If anyone is willing to testify, you cane to the Watkins family''s banquet tonight. The press will be there, and so many witnesses will make sure that the guilty are brought to justice."

    She deliberately emphasized thest few words.

    Since Jete had already brought

    the video to light, Citrine might

    well

    e to it that her so-called "paid the price, too.

    Everyone present stared at Citrine in awe. For an eighteen-year-old girl to have

    such courage and presence-her future was limitless.

    Citrine had no idea just how impressive her words were. But thanks to them, she

    was trending on social media again.

    #CICI Group CEO speaks out for ordinary people live on air!!!

    #President Carmichael is a total boss!

    #President Carmichael: beauty and brains!

    "Oh my God, President Carmichael is amazing-I think I''m falling for her!"

    "She''s incredible, so charming!"

    "She could have just looked out for herself, but instead she''s giving all those powerless victims a real chance at justice."

    "She''s too good to be true! A business leader with a conscience."

    "That''s it¡ªI need to buy something from the CICI Group website to support my queen! Maybe I''ll grab one of her books, too."

    ...

    Monica and Wade watched their little sister, hearts aching for her but also overflowing with pride.

    Meanwhile, Quentin sat quietly, eyes fixed on Citrine, no longer looking for trouble.

    He had to admit, part of his reason for getting involved was to stand up for Kal But another part was that he''d been humiliated by Citrine more than once, and he just couldn''t let it go.  s?novel

    When he''d first-seen the video, his gut reaction was that Citrine could never have done something like that. But that feelingsted only a

    moment before a wave of ancol ne

    took over, clouding his

    judgment-and that''s when he''d said. those cruel things. Cont¨¦nt

 Chapter 540

    But he hadn''t expected things to take such a turn.

    Citrine turned out to be the victim all along.

    Despite what she''d suffered, she carried herself with remarkable strength, as if nothing could break her.

    Every word she spoke caught him off guard.

    Without realizing it, Quentin found his gaze toward Citrine subtly shifting. He waspletely unaware of the change.

    Meanwhile, in a quiet alley on the outskirts of Crestwood-

    A mother and her daughter clung to each other, sobbing uncontrobly.

    In front of them, aptop screen was streaming the Watkins family''s dinner party live.

    After crying for what felt like ages, the girl finally pulled herself together and looked up at her mother, her voice thick with tears. "Mom, let''s go report Dick right now. I want him to spend the rest of his life behind bars."

    Her mother nodded. "Alright, I''ll get your wheelchair. Wait here."

    Glenwood Studios.

    A beautiful woman sat clutching her phone, bawling her eyes out. Suddenly, in the midst of her tears, she started tough.

    Just then, her agent pushed open the door. At the sound, the woman''s face went pale; she scrambled to shut off the livestream.

    The male agent, cigarette dangling from his lips, strode in with no regard for her distress and leanedzily against her vanity.

    "May, there''s a party tonight. Get yourself ready."

    He looked her up and down, then gave a pointed reminder, his tone dripping with implication: "And May-dress to turn some heads, alright? Show off your back, maybe a high slit. You know what I mean?"

    May''s face went white as a sheet, her whole body trembling. For a long moment, she couldn''t even react.

    "Are you deaf or just ignoring me?" the agent snapped, shoving her head roughly. He flicked thest bit of his cigarette away, then circled behind her. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, he ran his fingers lightly along her elegant neck.

    Suddenly, he pressed the burning cigarette into her unblemished skin.

    The pain was excruciating. Acting on instinct and fury, May grabbed the vase beside her and smashed it over the agent''s head.

    He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

    A smug smite shed across May''s face. She kicked him hard a few times, cursing, "Serves you right! Helping Dick ruin so many

    lives tonight I''ll make sure you go

    down with him."

    With that, she bolted from the room.

    Downtown, in a modest apartment-

    A middle-aged couple sat together, eyes red and streaming with tears as they

    watched the livestream, calling out their daughter''s name.

    At the center of their living room, in the most prominent spot, sat a framed photograph of a young woman¡ªtheir daughter.

    Exchanging a look of grim

    determination, the husband said et

    s bring the evidence our gif left hind. This time, we''re making sure that bastard goes to prison for her."

    "Let''s go."

    Roughly half an hour had passed since Citrine spoke, and people began to arrive, one after another.

    Not just a few¡ªa whole group of about a dozen.

    Mamie had given instructions to security in advance: let these people in, no questions asked.

    Now, the group approached Citrine together.

    The young women, all teary-eyed, looked at her and said, "President Carmichael."

    Citrine offered them a gentle smile.

    She didn''t ask about what Dick had done to them; instead, she

    reassured them, "Don''t be afraid. Today, we''re going to see justice served."

    Because of her kindness, the girls felt their trust in Citrine deepen, relief mingling

    with newfound admiration.

 Chapter 541

    At that moment, a girl suddenly stepped forward, her gaze burning with hope and anxiety as she looked at Citrine. In a tentative voice, she asked, "President Carmichael, do you really think we can bring Dick to justice?"

    Citrine''s eyes lifted, and she was the first to notice the burn mark on the girl''s chest¡ªa round scar, unmistakably from a cigarette. She averted her gaze, her expression solemn as she replied, "Absolutely. We will."

    With those words from Citrine, a sense of confidence bloomed among the gathered girls. The fear and worry that had gripped them when they first arrived began to fade, reced by renewed determination.

    From the back of the room, a middle-aged woman called out, her eyes shining with anticipation. "President Carmichael, when can we begin to clear the air?" Her voice trembled with urgency.

    Citrine turned toward the sound. The woman stood there, face earnest, her husband at her side gripping her hand just as tightly, both of them radiating the same desperate hope.

    Seeing them, a shadow flickered across Citrine''s expression. She scanned the area around them, searching for any sign of their daughter, but found nothing.

    She quicklyposed herself and answered gently, "We can start whenever you''re ready."

    The girls urged her on in unison. "Then let''s begin, President Carmichael." "Yes, let''s get started."

    "I can''t wait to see that monster finally pay for what he''s done."

    Their faces, a mixture of hope and pain, moved Citrine deeply.

    Turning to the assembled reporters, she announced, "Please, set up your cameras and get ready for the interviews. This is the story the world needs to see."

    The journalists nodded in agreement. "Yes, President Carmichael."

    As the equipment was arranged, Citrine added, "You can film the interviews, but everyone''s faces must be blurred, and the girls'' identities protected."

    The reporters hesitated for a moment, then quickly agreed. After all, this exclusive was a direct result of President Carmichael''s efforts her word wasw today.

    Once the cameras were ready, May Crawford was the first to step forward. She sat down in front of the lens, her face expressionless, voice steady.

    "My name is May. I''m an actress with Glenwood Studios. Half a year ago, at apany party, Dick singled me out. That night, he deliberately left his business card for me, inviting me to his suite. b refused. But when my agent learned Dick was the CEO of a Glenwood Group subsidiary, she saw an opportunity. That same night, she made arrangements-she sent me to Dick''s room."

    May paused, her voice catching in her throat. "The next morning, when I realized what had happened, I wanted to go to the police. But Dick threatened my family''s

    lives. I was terrified. I gave up on the idea of reporting him."

    "After that, maybe because I''d threatened to go to the police, Dick became even more vicious. He instructed my agent to sabotage my careel couldn''t get any roles, was broke and desperate, but breaking my contract would have cost me a fortune. In a moment of desperation, I posted a video online exposing him, using an anonymous ount. But Dick found out. He threatened me again, said I needed to be taught a lesson. I thought he was just trying to scare me."

    Her voice was barely a whisper now. "The very next day, my father, who worked construction, fell from the twentieth floor and died instantly. My mother died of a heart attack from grief. Dick destroyed my life. He killed my parents. He''s a monster."

    Citrine moved quickly, handing May a tissue and helping her up as she broke down.

    Next, the middle-aged couple stepped forward. From arge bag, they took out a framed photograph of their daughter and set it gently on the table before them.

    "We''re here to use Dick," the

    father began, voice trembling. "Three years ago, our daughter was taking piano lessons at a music academy owned by Dick''spany. He started showing up there more and more. Not long after, our daughter told us she didn''t want to take lessons anymore. We didn''t listen. On thest day, she called to say Dick wanted to show her some special piano techniques and that she''d be homete."

    "She never came back. The next day, the news broke our daughter had jumped

    into the sea."

    "It''s our fault. We failed her. Dick is a criminal, but so are we."

    One by one, the other victims stepped forward to share their stories. Those who couldn''t be there in person sent in their testimony online.

    ...

    When it was over, the reporters packed up and left. The girls drifted out in small groups, some clinging to each other for support.

    Only one person lingered, watching Citrine for a long moment before finally walking over.

 Chapter 542

    May smiled and turned to Citrine. "President Carmichael, thank you. Thank you for giving us a chance to speak up."

    Citrine returned her smile, warm and gentle. "Don''t thank me. You should thank yourselves-for your courage."

    May blinked, a little taken aback. She hadn''t expected Citrine to say that. For a moment, she was at a loss for words.

    President Carmichael wasn''t like any of the powerful, sessful people May had ever imagined. Despite being one of the victims herself-long before any of them -she didn''t show a hint of sadness or bitterness. Instead, she stood at the press conference, lending her voice to all the other survivors. Even though she was already at the top, she still made sure the reporters protected the identities of ordinary people like May. Somehow, she truly understood what they felt.

    May had read plenty of articles about this genius prodigy online: started her own business in high school, got into Crestwood University with the highest entrance exam score on record, published acimed research before even graduating, and not only was she a bestselling author, she was also a rising star in the business world.

    Yet she was only eighteen-four years younger than May herself.

    So young, and already she seemed to have everything. Her life looked like something out of a fairy tale.

    May had never dreamed she''d one day be having a conversation with someone so brilliant, someone who seemed to exist in apletely different world.

    Unable to help herself, she blurted out, "President Carmichael, you''re nothing like I imagined."

    Citrine suddenlyughed, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Oh? And what did you imagine I''d be like?"

    May tilted her head, thinking for a moment. "Hmm... I pictured you as this fearless, sharp-minded CEO-someone whomands the boardroom and always knows exactly what to do."

    Citrine''s eyes widened in mock

    se. "Wait, isn''t that exactly what I am?"

    Hadn''t she always given off that impression?

    May couldn''t help but find her expression endearing. She grinned. "Of course you are."

    Citrine started to rx, only for May to add, "But you''re also... a gentle soul. Like a guardian angel."

    Citrine pressed her lips together in a soft, thoughtful smile. She wanted to protest that she wasn''t nearly as good as May thought-but looking into May''s earnest eyes, the words caught in her throat.

    "I''m really happy today," May said quietly, her smile tinged with something bittersweet.

    Today was herst day in this world. Meeting Citrine-her gentle guardian angel -felt like one final act of kindness from a world that hadn''t shown her much mercy. Not since her parents died had anyone treated her with such warmth.

    Citrine still didn''t sense anything amiss. She smiled back. ¡°The bad guys will finally face justice. You have a whole new life waiting for you now."

    May''s gaze turned hollow, her expression shadowed by sorrow. She shook her head slightly, not answering. Instead, she looked at Citrine and said, "President Carmichael, I wish you happiness and peace. Goodbye."

    Citrine wasn''t sure why May had changed the subject so abruptly, but she waved goodbye all the same.

    May had just started to turn away when something suddenly urred to Citrine.

    Because of Dick, May''s father had fallen to his death at a construction site, and her mother had passed away from a heart attack. After barely escaping Glenwood

    vel

    Entertainment Group today, May would likely face not just trauma, but huge financial penalties unless she never intended to go back.

    Orphaned, in debt, barely scraping by. Sometimes the smallest burden is the one that breaks you.

    Citrine''s heart clenched. She called out, "May, wait."

    May turned, her expression as nk as before. "Is there something else?"

    The warmth faded from Citrine''s

    face. She looked May straight in the eye. "CIC Media will cover your

    penalty fees. From now on,

    veine

    Group will provide you with a

    professional team and help you pick the right scripts. Would you be interested in signing a performance contract with us?"

    May stared at her in shock.

    Citrine continued, "If you manage to earn fifty million in profits for CICI Media within three years, you win. After that, you''re free to stay or leave as you wish."

    May''s eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

    Citrine nodded. "Absolutely."

    Even after leaving, May was still reeling from the news.

    It wasn''t until she got home, lying alone in her tiny apartment, that she remembered the worry and fear in President Carmichael''s eyes when she''d called her name. She thought about that contract-how the terms were so clearly skewed in her favor. Suddenly, it all made sense.

    Citrine had seen right through her.

    May''s eyes softened, filling with gratitude.

    President Carmichael really was a gentle guardian angel.

 Chapter 543

    At that moment, in the grand hall, Mrs. Watkins and her daughter gazed at Citrine with unabashed admiration, eyes shining like starstruck fans.

    The rest of the guests shifted anxiously, not one daring to leave the party early. Tonight, they were all just spectators to the unfolding drama.

    People exchanged uneasy nces, as if afraid that Citrine mightsh out at any moment.

    Someone tried to break the tension with a forced smile.

    "President Carmichael, we knew you''d never do something like that."

    Before anyone else could chime in with their ttery, Citrine shot the crowd a re sharp enough to cut ss.

    "Enough. Not another word," she said, her voice cold andmanding.

    Fair-weather friends, she thought. She had no time or patience for them-and certainly wasn''t about to hand out any favors.

    The room fell silent. No one dared speak again.

    Citrine gave a derisive snort and turned her back on the crowd, dismissing them entirely.

    Her gazended on Quentin, who stood off to the side, staring at her in stunned silence. She strode toward him.

    "What are you doing?" Quentin managed, swallowing hard. His voice trembled, almost tripping over the words.

    Citrine just smiled at him, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

    Quentin could only stare at her face, suddenly so close, his mind goingpletely nk.

    Without warning, Citrine pped him-hard.

    Quentin jumped to his feet, shocked. "You actually hit me?"

    Citrine gave a cold, mocking smile. "You really are an idiot. You even parrot Kali''s words like her trained dog."

    She stepped closer, closing the distance between them until Quentin could feel the warmth of her breath. "And yes, I hit you. I hit your precious Kali, too."

    Their faces were only inches apart; Quentin felt his ears burning but was too flustered to notice. He stumbled backward, putting space between them, looking suddenly disheveled and out of sorts.

    Citrine regarded him coolly. "Tell me, Quentin, do you know why your dear Kali asked you here tonight?"

    Quentin red at her, scowling. "Don''t you dare use her. I came because I wanted to. She has nothing to do with it."

    Citrine almostughed it was pathetic, but hardly surprising. She''d nearly forgotten: Quentin was always loyal to Kali, like a devoted hound.

    She sighed, almost pitying him. "If she really didn''t want you here, how did you know where to find me tonight?"

    He blurted out, "Because Kali texted me-she said you''d hit her. I wouldn''t have known otherwise."

    Citrine rolled her eyes. "Do you even hear yourself? That''spletely contradictory."

    She pressed on, "If she truly wanted to keep you away, do you think she''d run to you with her sob story? No, she''d keep quiet and never mention it. But instead, she made sure you''de charging in to defend her."

    Quentin stood speechless, struggling to respond.

    Citrine''s lips curled in a wry smile as she continued, "Just admit it. Kali is using you, Quentin. To her, you''re nothing more than a convenient tool."

    i.ne

    "That video didn''t leak online by ident. And wasn''t it convenient that, right after, she came crying to you and led you here to cause a scene at the Watkins'' party? Do you really believe she had nothing to do with what happened to me tonight?" C¨®ntent

    Quentin clenched his fists, his expression twisting with denial. "That''s impossible. I''ve known her since we were kids. She''s a good person-she''d never do something like that."

    "She would¡ªand she did," Citrine said tly. "The video was uploaded from one

    of her burner ounts. Tomorrow, everyone will know."

    This time, Quentin had no words. He just stood there, silent and stunned.

    Citrine let out a bitterugh. "Open your eyes, Quentin. What kind of person posts a malicious video online to ruin an innocent girl''s reputation? Kali isn''t the delicate flower you think she is¡ªshe''s a venomous scorpion, and you''re letting her use you."

 Chapter 544

    After she finished speaking, Citrine quietly watched Quentin''s face for any

    reaction.

    Struggle. Disappointment. Disgust. Hesitation...

    A faint, knowing smile tugged at her lips-she could tell her words had done their work, driving a wedge just as she''d intended.

    Of course, she hadn''t actually lied. Everything she''d said was the truth.

    Since Kali was so eager to see her ruined, Citrine figured she''d strike first, isting Kali until she was left with no one to turn to.

    What was the point of crushing her in one blow? No, Citrine far preferred watching someone squirm-caught between life and death, unable to truly live or die. That, to her, was far more entertaining.

    Having stirred up enough trouble for Quentin tonight, Citrine checked the time and prepared to leave.

    Just then, Justin approached.

    He wore a sycophantic smile as he greeted her, "President Carmichael, I owe you an apology. Earlier, I spoke out of turn-I misjudged you, and I''m truly sorry for the things I said."

    As he spoke, Justin picked up a ss of red wine from a nearby table and offered it to Citrine.

    Citrine let out a short, contemptuousugh and epted it.

    Seeing this, Justin finally seemed to rx. He erupted into a self-assuredugh. "President Carmichael, The Dixon Group has done exceptionally well in Crestwood these past years. Our microchips are second to none in the industry. If ourpanies joined forces, we''d be unstoppable."

    His eyes gleamed with arrogance; it clearly hadn''t crossed his mind that Citrine might refuse. In his mind, business was business-profit always came first, and this partnership was mutually beneficial. Why would she turn him down?

    Justin grabbed another ss from the table, swirling it before clinking it against Citrine''s. "Here''s to our partnership, President Carmichael. Let''s toast, and then we can sign the contract."

    "I''ll drink first, to show my sincerity."

    Throwing back his ss in one gulp, Justin set it down with a flourish-only to notice that Citrine hadn''t even lifted hers. She simply watched him, lost in thought.

    "President Carmichael, aren''t you going to drink?" Justin ventured, uncertainty creeping into his voice.

    Citrine took a few steps closer, her

    voice icy. A man who wed his way to the top by leeching off his ex-wife''s misery? You really think you''re worthy of partnering with me? Pathetic."

    With that, she flung her wine straight into Justin''s face.

    He was stunned, frozen in disbelief at her audacity.

    "You-" He wiped the wine from his face, too furious for words.

    Citrine''s tone was cold and final. "Mr. Dixon, I suggest you find someone else to do business with."

    Without sparing him another nce, she strode out of the ballroom.

    She''d barely exited before someone followed her out.

    As Citrine made her way to the parking lot, she felt a twinge of unease and stopped in her tracks.

    She turned, wary, and found herself facing a middle-aged woman in a catering staff uniform, staring at her intently.

    Citrine hesitated, then asked cautiously, "Is there something you need from me?¡±

    Tears glimmered in the woman''s eyes. "President Carmichael, my name is Natalia Franklin. I''m Justin''s ex-wife."

    Citrine blinked in surprise. "You... work here at the event?"

    Natalia nodded.

    Citrine paused, taken aback. She''d heard Justin''s ex-wife had fallen on hard times, but she hadn''t imagined the woman was working as a server. Clearly, Justin was even more ruthless than the rumors suggested.

    Regaining herposure, Citrine asked, "What can I do for you?"

    Natalia''s gratitude was genuine. ¡°Thank you for what you said in the ballroom."

    These past two years, Justin had

    ruined her life, yet he was

    thriving everyone in Crestwool

    seemed to have forgotten the

    terrible things he''d done.

 Chapter 545

    The woman''s eyes sparkled with gratitude. "You''re the only one who''s ever stood up for me in front of everyone."

    Ever since The Franklin Group became The Dixon Group-and since Justin forced her into divorce her old friends and rtives had all cut ties, flocking instead to Justin, the viin of the story.

    That was when she saw people for what they truly were: cold, self-serving, driven only by gain.

    But President Carmichael was different. She still had a heart.

    Citrine''s reply was cool and measured. "I didn''t do it for you."

    "I know," Natalia said softly. "But thank you, anyway."

    Citrine could only shake her head, exasperated.

    Then, Natalia''s expression shifted, growing suddenly serious. "President Carmichael, I was in the room just behind you. I heard everything you said to Justin."

    President Carmichael hadn''t chosen to side with Justin, even when it would have been profitable.

    Natalia hesitated before continuing, "President Carmichael, you''re interested in The Dixon Group''s microchip technology and their strength as apany. You want them to join Blood Rain, but Justin himself you don''t trust him, do you?"

    Citrine wasn''t surprised that Natalia understood. After all, Natalia was the Franklin family''s only daughter, once heir to The Franklin Group. If she couldn''t see through people by now, that would have been the real shock.

    "That''s right," Citrine admitted without hesitation.

    Natalia took a deep breath. "Let me join CICI Group. Within six months, I''ll build you the most advanced microchip you''ve ever seen."

    Citrine locked eyes with her. "And in return, you want my help taking back The Franklin Group."

    Natalia''s gaze was steady. "Once I have it back, I''ll join Blood Rain, and after that, ourpany will follow your lead."

    A smirk tugged at Citrine''s lips. "Deal."

    Clips of Citrine had spread all over the inte. Both the Carmichael and Saunders families saw the news, and the moment they did, they each pulled strings to have every video taken down.

    Meanwhile, Raymond Carmichael''s worry for his daughter far outweighed any scandal. Dropping everything, he rushed straight to Verona Heights.

    Back at home, Citrine seemed to shed her public mask. She moved like a

    marite with its strings cut, copsing onto her bed in silence.

    Memories of Dick yed on a relentless loop in her mind. She tried not to think about him, but it was no use.

    Citrine reached into her nightstand,

    pulled out a bottle of

    tipped a few pills into her palm and swallowed them dry. Then shey back down, staring at the ceiling.

    Ten minutes crawled by. Gradually, the crushing weight in her chest began to lift,

    and atst, exhausted, she drifted into a restless sleep.

    When Raymond arrived, his face was tight with worry. He went straight to the housekeeper. "Where''s Citrine? Is she home?"

    The housekeeper saw the tension in his face and answered quickly, "Miss Citrine went to her room. She should be asleep."

    Raymond''s expression shifted instantly. He hurried to Citrine''s bedroom.

    Seeing his daughter lying motionless on the bed, his heart clenched painfully. But he pushed the feeling aside, forcing himself to stay calm as he approached.

    He gently pressed his fingers to the pulse point beneath her nose, feeling for breath. Only then did he allow himself to exhale.

    The pain in his chest seemed less severe now.

    He softly pinched Citrine''s cheek, murmuring, "You little menace. Nearly scared me to death."

    He tucked the nket around her shoulders before slipping quietly out of the

    room.

    Remembering what Dr. Yates

    Cooper had once told him, Raymond didn''t dare leave the house. Citrine''s depression was severe, and after everything that had just happened, if she were to harm herself now... The

    thought alone made his blood run cold.

 Chapter 546

    Just then, the doorbell rang.

    Before the housekeeper could even greet the visitor, Sawyer barged inside, brushing past her.

    "Hey! What do you think you''re doing?" she eximed, startled by his sudden entrance.

    Sawyer didn''t even spare her a nce. He strode straight toward Raymond, who was sitting on the sofa.

    He looked as if he hadn''t slept in days-his face unshaven, eyes bloodshot, hair in disarray.

    Even Raymond needed a moment to recognize him. His brows drew together in surprise. "Sawyer?"

    Sawyer seemed half-mad. He seized Raymond by the cor, desperation written all over his face. "Where''s Citrine? Where is she?"

    Raymond''s eyes turned cold in an instant. He pped Sawyer''s hand away with a sharp motion and replied icily, "You don''t deserve to say her name."

    Just hearing Sawyer utter his daughter''s name made Raymond''s blood boil. He lowered his voice, barely containing his anger. "If you''ve got something to say, we''ll talk outside. Don''t disturb my daughter."

    Sawyer seemed to realize something then. He forced himself to calm down.

    "Outside," Raymond repeated, his voice low and firm.

    They stepped out onto the garden patio, the air heavy with tension.

    Once he was sure that Citrine was safe, Sawyer''s frantic energy faded, reced by a brittle exhaustion. He looked at Raymond and asked quietly, "How is she?"

    Raymond didn''t answer. His jaw clenched; then, without warning, he swung andnded a hard punch across Sawyer''s face.

    He spat out the words, venomous, "You have the nerve to ask about Citrine? If it weren''t for you and that viper Aline insisting Dick be Citrine''s piano teacher, none of this would''ve happened."

    Raymond''s fury was relentless-he threw punch after punch, not holding back in the least.

    Sawyer didn''t fight back. He let the blowsnd, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

    He wiped at the blood, pain etched into his features. "I''m sorry. I didn''t know. I didn''t know what kind of man Dick really was."

    If he had, he would never have let Dick near his daughter. But now, apology was meaningless.

    He remembered how young Citrine had begged him, again and again, to quit piano lessons.

    He''d brushed her off, using her of being difficult. "Why can''t you be more like your sister? Stop being so stubborn."

    How helpless she must have felt.

    She''d onceshed out with a fruit knife and hurt Dick-he''d thought she was dangerous, cruel, even told her to stay away from Jete, afraid she''d scare her little sister.

    He hadn''t understood; he''d only made it worse. Because of him and Aline, they''d

    sent Citrine away in the middle of the night.

    What kind of pain had she gone through? Sawyer couldn''t bear to imagine.

    The thought alone made him want to tear himself apart.

    Raymond kept hitting him, blow after blow, until Sawyer''s face and shit were smeared with blood. Still, Sawyer didn''t lift a hand to defend himself. Silent tears slid down his cheeks.

    He looked utterly defeated, his eyes empty as he met Raymond''s gaze. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Go ahead. Kill me. I deserve it."

    Raymond suddenly stopped. He crouched down in front of Sawyer, staring at him with utter contempt. Through gritted teeth, he hissed, "Don''t tter yourself."

    "If dying was that easy, what would be the point?"

    "You were blind, you were heartless, and you lost the daughter who loved you most. You ought to spend the rest of your life drowning in regret and pain."

    Raymond pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and leaned against the railing, his eyes cold and distant.

    After a moment, he spoke again. "You''re not fit to be a father."

    Sawyer slowly raised his head, bitterness twisting his features. "You''re right. I''m a bastard." He had destroyed Citrine''s life.

    Raymond''s voice was steely. "From

    now on, take care of my daughter myself. Don''t ever show your face to her again. If you do, I swear

    you."

    KH kill

    swny

 Chapter 547

    Saunders Manor.

    The inte was aze with rumors, and by now, every member of the Saunders family knew what had happened.

    At this point, Hilda saw no reason to keep things hidden any longer. She took it upon herself to tell Herschel and Inez Saunders everything about finding her daughter.

    "Mom, Dad, Citrine really is my daughter. Here''s the DNA test," Hilda said, pulling the document from her bag and handing it to them.

    The older couple exchanged a stunned nce before reaching out to take the paper from Hilda''s hand.

    Across the room, Monica and Wade stared at Hilda in shock.

    Monica''s eyes widened. "Aunt Hilda, didn''t Citrine refuse to do the test with us? How did you get it?"

    Hilda''s tone was calm. "At the Scales'' birthday party, I managed to get one of the sses Citrine had used from a waiter."

    As Herschel and Inez read the results, their eyes filled with tears.

    Overwhelmed with relief, Inez wept openly. "We''ve finally found our sweet granddaughter."

    Herschel stayed silent, but the emotion in his eyes made it clear just how moved he was.

    But as they looked at the photo of their granddaughter, a grim realization seemed to hit them. Their expressions suddenly hardened, turning ashen.

    Inez''s voice trembled with anger. "Dick and his family are monsters. How dare they treat our precious girl so cruelly? Someone ought to break his legs!"

    Herschel didn''t argue. He simply nodded grimly. "I''ll find out where he is right now. That bastard won''t get away with it tonight."

    The livestream had been shocking-its poprity immense and every member of the Saunders family had watched the entire broadcast from start to finish.

    At first, they''d only been struck by how much the girl resembled Hilda, but the longer they watched, the more they were drawn in by Citrine''s strength and her courage in the face of adversity.

    She had endured so much, yet on camera she remained resilient, even using her own resources to help. others who''d suffered like she had. Just watching her made their hearts ache.

    Now that they knew she was their own flesh and blood, Herschel and Inez felt as

    if their hearts had been shed open-aching with a pain they couldn''t put into words.

    Eyes red, Inez whispered, "That poor child... What kind of life did she have with the Iversons?"

    She turned to Hilda. "Hilda, when are you going to bring her home?"

    At this, everyone in the Saunders family looked to Hilda, faces filled with hope as they waited for her answer.

    Hilda was silent for a while before letting out a long, weary sigh.

    She looked at them and said, ¡°Let''s not bring this up again. Of course I''d be happy if Citrine wanted toe home, but if she doesn''t, I''ll respect her wishes." The light in Inez and Herschel''s eyes dimmed instantly.

    Wade, usually the most easygoing of them all, was the first to speak up, unable to hide his confusion.

    "But why? Citrine''s a Saunders-she''s my sister, your daughter, Aunt Hilda. Why can''t we bring her home?"

    A bitter look crossed Hilda''s face. How could she not want her daughter by her side? She dreamed of it every night.

    Just then, Monica nced at Hilda,

    her voice tentative. "Aunt Hilda, Citrine seems to really resent our family. Tonight, I couldn''t hold back and told her everything-you''ve spent years searching for her I hoped it would ease things between you, but... itpletely backfired."

 Chapter 548

    Citrine seemed deeply resistant-after what I said, her face turned ashen. She wanted nothing more than to draw a clear line between herself and our family.

    As Monica spoke, Hilda''s expression grew darker, her mood visibly shaken.

    "You shouldn''t have said those things to her," Hilda said, voice tight.

    Monica looked confused, as did the rest of the Saunders family.

    Hilda paused for a moment, then exined, her tone softer but heavy with meaning. "Citrine can''t empathize with me¡ªor maybe she just refuses to. That child''s life has been far harsher than mine. Her heart is heavier, her pain deeper. To ask someone who''s already been through so much to share another person''s grief... it''s just too cruel."

    Monica and Wade immediately recalled the words they''d spoken to Citrine that day. Both went pale as ghosts.

    Hilda knew it wasn''t entirely their fault. After a moment''s silence, she decided to share what Raymond had confided in her.

    "You all know by now that Citrine never had it easy living with the Iversons. But what you probably don''t know is that when she was just eleven, they sent her away to Mirage Cay."

    "What? Mirage Cay?" Herschel''s eyes widened in shock. He mmed his hand on the table and shot to his feet.

    Everyone in Crestwood knew about Mirage Cay. Even the elite families would shudder at the mention of that name.

    Back when Herschel ran C. Corp, he and severalpany elders had traveled to Magnolia for business. During that trip, one of the elders was kidnapped.

    For seven days and seven nights, Herschel and the others were on edge, calling in every favor, exhausting every connection. Not a single clue emerged.

    Then, on the eighth day, the missing elder was returned.

    But not whole.

    He came back in a ck duffel bag.

    Herschel and the others had just returned to their suite when they spotted the bag lying in the middle of the spacious living room.

    Hope surged-perhaps they''d found him alive. They hurried over and unzipped the bag.

    The sight inside made grown men scream. Some copsed onto the floor; others couldn''t keep from retching.

    It wasn''t a person inside, not really. Just pieces.

    After they''d emptied their stomachs and braced themselves as best they could, they covered their mouths and noses, forcing themselves to look again, needing to know if it was Lange.

    When they saw the familiar round head, their eyes turned red with grief.

    That''s when someone noticed a card tucked inside the bag.

    At first, they thought it was carelessly left evidence, a clue from the perpetrators. They slid it into aptop, hands trembling.

    What they found made them wish they''d never looked, but they forced themselves to keep watching.

    It was a series of videos.

    From start to finish, the footage documented every torment Lange suffered after being taken.

    The brutality was unimaginable. No matter how much he begged for mercy, his captors were unmoved.

    In the videos, masked men mentioned their location-Mirage Cay. That''s how Herschel first learned of the ce.

    By now, Mirage Cay had been around for nearly two decades.

    Over the years, heirs of wealthy

    firms had vanished into that hellhole, never to be seen again.

    families and brilliant minds. Bet

    And as the tragedies mounted, so too did the whispers-until nearly everyone with something to lose knew the name Mirage Cay and dreaded it.

 Chapter 549

    At that moment, everyone in the Saunders family was sitting in stony silence, their faces drawn and pale. Beneath the shock and disbelief in their eyes, there was a deep well of worry and heartbreak.

    Monica and Wade stared down at the floor, looking ghostly white.

    Only now did Monica truly understand what Hilda had meant.

    It really was too cruel-asking someone who was already drowning in their own pain to empathize with someone else''s suffering.

    Especially when her own sister had endured even worse.

    An eleven-year-old child, sent away to a ce like that... No one really knew how she''d survived.

    But everyone understood, in their hearts, that Citrine must have gone through unimaginable hardship just to stay alive.

    After a long, heavy silence, Hilda finally spoke, her voice thick with guilt. "If I''d just watched Citrine more closely back then, the nanny wouldn''t have taken her. She wouldn''t have suffered at the Iversons'', and she never would have ended up at Mirage Cay. This is all my fault-I failed her."

    The Saunders family looked at Hilda, wanting tofort her, but none of them could find the words. The same bitter regret weighed on every heart in the room.

    Verona Heights.

    After sending Sawyer away, Raymond rolled up his sleeves and cooked a full dinner for his daughter-four dishes and a pot of soup.

    When he''d finished, he headed to wake her for the meal, but just as he walked into the living room, his phone began to ring.

    Assuming it was his own, Sawyer hurried over to grab it.

    "It''s Citrine''s," Sawyer said, ncing at the phone on the table. It wasn''t his after all.

    Raymond was about to put it back down when a new message popped up on the

    screen.

    Monica: Citrine, I''m sorry. I shouldn''t have said those things the other day. I shouldn''t have meddled and tried to force you to empathize with Aunt Hilda.

    Ever since learning Hilda was Citrine''s biological mother, Raymond had thoroughly investigated the Saunders family.

    So the moment he saw Monica''s name and read the message-his expression changed instantly.

    He hurried into the kitchen and called over the housekeeper. "Could you go wake Citrine and tell her dinner''s ready? I have something to take care of."

    Without another word, Raymond grabbed his coat and left.

    He drove straight from Verona Heights to the Saunders house.

    When he arrived, the entire Saunders family was gathered in the living room,

    staring in surprise to see him show up unannounced.

    Hilda had already told her family everything about Citrine-including the truth about her real father. Now everyone knew Raymond was Citrine''s father-the man Hilda had had a one-night stand with all those years ago.  s?novel

    Hilda had made it clear to her parents that it had all been a mistake and that neither she nor Raymond had known the truth back then. As a result, Herschel and?nez didn''t me Raymond for what had happened.

    On the contrary, after hearing from Hilda how well this man had treated Citrine,

    the elderly couple actually found themselves warming to him.

    Now, exchanging a nce, Herschel and Inez nodded to each other before Herschel called out, "Let''s get some tea ready for our guest."

    He stopped a maid in the hallway and added, "Bring out the new tea set I just bought at the Magnolia auction."

    Compared to Herschel and Inez''s enthusiasm, Hilda''s attitude was much cooler- borderline irritable, even.

    Why wasn''t he with Citrine at a time like this? What was he doing here? Raymond entered the room, giving a polite nod to Herschel and Mrs. Saunders.

    Inez greeted him warmly. "President Carmichael, please, have a seat."

    Hilda, on the other hand, hardly bothered to hide her annoyance. She nced at him and asked, "What brings you here?"

    Raymond gave a cold snort, clearly displeased. "Why am I here? I''m here to ask what your dear niece said to my daughter."

    Monica was taken aback. She hadn''t expected Raymond toe for her.

    She looked up at him uncertainly. "I''m sorry, I don''t understand what you mean.¡±

    Raymond ignored her confusion,

    sitting down on the sofa and fixing

    her with a steely re. "I saw the message you sent. I want to know exactly what you said to Citrine.¡±

 Chapter 550

    Monica froze, and a sudden realization drained the color from her face.

    After a brief hesitation, she spoke, voice trembling. "I... I told her that our family, the Saunders, and especially my aunt-we''ve been searching for her for years.¡±

    Seeing the stern look on Raymond''s face, Monica decided toe clean, recounting more or less everything she''d said that day.

    She understood now that she''d been wrong.

    When she finished, Monica looked at Raymond and apologized without prompting. "I''m sorry. I shouldn''t have said those things."

    Raymond listened, his brow furrowing deeper with every word.

    He said nothing for a long moment. Then, suddenly, he spoke. "I don''t mind the Saunders wanting to get close to her. But from now on, don''t tell her things that''ll cause her more pain."

    Monica and Wade both nodded quickly. "We won''t."

    After they spoke, Raymond added, almost as an afterthought, "She''s struggling with severe depression. There have been times when she''s had suicidal thoughts."

    The entire Saunders family stared at him, shock and distress written across every face.

    Raymond nced around the room, then continued, "She hurt herself in high school. It nearly killed her."

    There was a sharp, heavy thud as Hilda copsed onto the sofa, her face ashen.

    "How could this happen?" she whispered, clutching the armrest so tightly her knuckles turned white. For a moment, she looked like she could barely breathe. Oh God, what had Citrine been through all these years?

    The others wore matching expressions-stunned, heartbroken.

    Raymond seemed satisfied with their reactions. He pressed on, "When she loses control, she can''t help herself. She might not just hurt herself¡ªshe could hurt others, too."

    "She keeps her distance from you, tries so hard to break the connection-it''s not just because she''s guarded or hurting. Part of it is that she''s afraid of losing control and hurting you, too."

    "If you want to be in her life, then don''t bring up anything that might set her off. Give her time. Let her go at her own pace."

    Herschel and Inez wiped tears from their eyes, looking at Raymond with gratitude. "Thank you for telling us, Mr. Carmichael."

    Raymond looked at the older couple, then at Hilda, his tone gentling.

    .n

    Saunders can love her and protect her, just like the Carmichaels do."

    "You''re her family, too. I hope,

    her habits,

    He stayed a while longer, sharing everything he knew about Citrine her likes and dislikes. Only when he''d finished did he finally take his leave.

    When Citrine woke up, her mood had settled a little.

    She nced at the table, surprised to see a simple meal-a few dishes and a warm bowl of soup. Unconsciously, the corners of her mouth lifted.

    She never would have guessed that Raymond could cook.

    Cautiously, she took a bite, and found to her surprise that it tasted pretty good.

    She''d been hungry to begin with, and her appetite only grew. In the end, she finished everything down to thest crumb.

    By the time she was done, night had fallen. The darkness pressing in from outside felt suffocating.

    As evening set in, Citrine''s mood slipped again, spiraling downward in ways she couldn''t control.

    Restless, she stepped out onto the balcony and lit a cigarette.

    Leaning against the railing, her expression unreadable, she exhaled slow, pale

    rings of smoke into the night, lost in her own thoughts.

    Just then, the front door opened.

    The housekeeper had already gone for the day. Raymond stepped inside, nning to clear away the dishes when a sharp scent caught his attention-the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke.

    He followed it to the balcony. From a distance, he could see Citrine, brow furrowed, smoking with practiced ease Shadows clung to her eyes, a heaviness he couldn''t chase away.

    The sight made his heart ache.

    "Hey, sweetheart, put that out." He walked over and gently took the cigarette from

    her lips.

 Chapter 551

    Hearing Raymond''s voice, Citrine froze for a moment.

    She stared at him nkly, letting him snatch the cigarette from her hand,

    Since they''d reconnected, Raymond had always gone along with her wishes. This was the first time she''d ever seen him act so firm.

    Was this it, then? Was he starting to dislike her?

    In this world, it was perfectly eptable for boys to smoke, but when a girl did, all she got was gossip and judgmental stares.

    Of course Raymond didn''t like it. Who could me him?

    As Citrine brooded over how her image in Raymond''s eyes was probably ruined,

    she heard his gentle voice: "Smoking''s bad for you."

    She looked straight at him, her gaze unwavering, when suddenly she felt something pressed into her hand.

    ncing down, she saw it was a tin of peppermint candies.

    Raymond met her eyes and said, "If you''re feeling down, have something sweet instead."

    "Try one. They''re really good."

    Citrine popped a candy into her mouth, and the smoky bitterness was reced by a cool burst of mint.

    He was right-the taste was wonderful.

    Meanwhile, the Dickson household was anything but peaceful.

    Dick was raging, cursing at the tidal wave of rumors swamping the inte.

    Just then, Jete returned home from visiting Kali.

    The moment Dick saw her, he didn''t say a word he just stormed over and pped her, one blow after another, so hard her cheek instantly swelled and her left ear started to ring.

    "Dad?" Jete looked at him, shaken and scared, unable to believe he had actually hit her.

    But she knew she''d caused a mess that had dragged him down with her. So she simply stared at her furious father, too afraid to utter a word.

    Dick had watched the entire live

    broadcast by the reporters. He''d just finished reading more online

    expos¨¦s about himself-worse than

    ever, and now he might even be facing awsuit. His anger twisted his features as he red at Jete, eyes full of regret and hatred. "I should never have let you and your mother into this house."

    "You useless brat! It was bad enough you spent your lifepeting with Citrine Carmichael behind my back, but I never thought you could be so stupid as to upload that video."

    "Are you trying to destroy me?" he spat, jabbing a finger at her in disgust.

    Jete realized just how badly she''d messed up, but she''d never imagined the consequences would be this severe. Seeing the way her once-loving father now looked at her with nothing but contempt, a sudden fear crept over her.

    Trying to salvage what she could, Jete mustered her best innocent expression.

    "Dad, what are you talking about? What video?"

    When Jete pretended not to know, Dick lunged forward and wrapped his hands around her neck, squeezing tighter and tighter. "Drop the act The angle in that video clearly shows it was taken at the Iversons'' ce. I saw you that night-you filmed it yourself!"

    Jete''s face turned crimson as her breath came in short, panicked gasps.

    She struggled to speak. "...Let go, I can''t breathe..."

    Dick shoved her onto the floor with a

    curse. "Should''ve never imed you as my daughter. You''re nothing but an ungrateful wretch. I''ve given.vo everything-good food, nice

    clothes-and this is how you repay me? You want to see your own father in prison?"

    With that, he stormed out, mming the door behind him, determined to go beg the Scales family for help.

    He''d barely reached the gates of theirmunity when he was swarmed by a crowd of reporters.

    They''d been waiting for hours to catch a glimpse of Dick in person, and now, spotting him atst, they descended on him, shoving microphones in his face.

    "Mr. Glenwood, what do you have to say about what''s going on online?"

 Chapter 552

    "Mr. Glenwood, the allegations online are confirmed-do you feel any remorse?"

    "Mr. Glenwood, after ruining so many girls'' lives, do you think you''ll end up in hell when you die?"

    "Do you have anything to say to your victims?"

    ...

    Dick pressed a trembling hand to his face, his expression darkening with every question. Through clenched teeth, he spat, "You pack of filthy vultures, get out of my way! Or do you want me to call the police?"

    His outburst only seemed to embolden the reporters, their faces turning cold.

    One sneered, "You think you have the right to call the cops? Mr. Glenwood, after

    all you''ve done, I''d say you''re the one they''d be hauling away."

    "Disgraceful scumbag. If it weren''t for my job, I wouldn''t waste my breath

    interviewing trash like you who''s halfway to prison."

    "Look at those dark circles-years of evil have eaten you hollow."

    "Dick, huh. Fitting name."

    ...

    "What the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?" Dick''s temper red as he shouted back.

    He wasn''t used to this. As the Glenwood family''s adopted son, he''d always been Scales''s favorite. No one had ever dared speak to him this way. This was the first time Dick had been openly insulted, right to his face, by a crowd of relentless tabloid reporters.

    "Oh, sure, we''re just a bunch of bottom-feeding hacks, working stiffs-not worth much. Butpared to you, we''re proud of what we do. At least we''re not monsters."

    "Still acting like you''re a Glenwood? Don''t kid yourself. Scales kicked you out of the family a while ago."

    "And after this scandal, you really think the Glenwoods will bail you out?"

    As the shouting match escted, the wail of sirens cut through the air. All eyes turned as several police cruisers pulled up nearby. Officers stepped out and strode straight toward Dick.

    "Good afternoon, we''re with the Crestwood Police Department. Here are our badges."

    The lead officer shed his credentials, then looked Dick squarely in the eye. "You''re Dick Glenwood, correct?"

    Dick gave a stiff nod.

    Without another word, the officer pulled out a pair of handcuffs and snapped them onto Dick''s wrists. "You''re under arrest."

    "What are you doing? Let me go! I haven''t done anything wrong!" Dick''s face twisted in panic as he shouted at the officers.

    The cop barely nced at him, his

    tone t and unyielding. "You''re being charged with multiple counts

    of sexual assault as well as financial crimes. The evidence is

    overwhelming."

    The reporters, sensing a major scoop, quickly raised their cameras and began filming every moment.

    When Jete heard Dick had been taken away, she immediately called Aline and told her toe home.

    Aline returned bundled up, face half-hidden, clutching a dull gray bag. "Mom, what''s that?" Jete eyed the shabby bag with obvious distaste.

    Aline didn''t answer at first. She pulled off her mask and fixed Jete with a serious look. ¡°Honey, Dick''s not getting out. We need to leave the country."

    With that, she unzipped the bag and opened it on the floor.

    It was packed with cash.

    Jete gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Mom, where did you get all that?"

    Aline let out a coldugh. "Dick''s an idiot. I secretly sold off a couple of his properties and pawned some of my jewelry. This is enough for us to livefortably for the rest of our lives." ,

    "We can start over somewhere new, just the two of us. That''s all that matters."

    Jete said nothing, but her eyes flickered with doubt, a shadow passing over her face.

    They were both just people, weren''t

    they? Citrine Carmichael was thriving in Crestwood, and yet she-Jete-was sneaking out of the country in disgrace. Why should it be this way?

 Chapter 553

    Noticing Jete''s silence, Aline''s face turned pale.

    "Jete, you''re not actually thinking of staying in Crestwood, are you?"

    Jete didn''t answer, but Aline saw the truth in her eyes. She rushed forward and gripped Jete''s shoulders, her tone deadly serious. "Don''t be foolish, Jete!"

    Her expression hardened. "Now that Dick''s in prison, we have nobody left to rely on in Crestwood. Your father''s reputation is ruined, and there''s no way I can marry you off to one of those wealthy men anymore. If we stay here, we''ll be trapped, and you know as well as I do that Citrine isn''t going to let us off easy."

    Jete''s face twisted with frustration. She couldn''t ept it.

    She used to have everything that once belonged to Citrine-clothes, toys, her bedroom, even the affection of the entire family. She had always been the winner. So why was Citrine Carmichael still living a better life than her?

    Jete clenched her fists, making up her mind.

    She looked at Aline, determination burning in her eyes. "Mom, take the money and go overseas. I''m staying in Crestwood. Once I''ve made a name for myself, I''l bring you home in style."

    "But how will you survive here on your own? Citrine isn''t going to leave you alone." Aline stared at her in disbelief, worry etched all over her face.

    "Don''t worry, Mom. I have a n." Jete''s hand tightened around the gold locket at her neck, her eyes shing with resolve.

    "If you''re sure..." Seeing how firm Jete was, Aline had nothing left to say.

    The next day, Aline caught the earliest flight out of the country, unaware that every move she made was being watched by someone else.

    When shended in Magnolia, she had barely exited the airport and was about to g down a cab to her hotel when someone pulled a hood over her head. She screamed and struggled, but her strength quickly faded away.

    Back in Crestwood.

    A breaking news segment aired: After a thorough investigation, a member of the Glenwood family has been convicted of multiple counts of sexual assault and financial crimes. He has been sentenced to eighteen years in prison, all assets have been confiscated, and a fine of five million dors imposed.

    Jete was sitting at home, watching the news. When it ended, she pulled on a baseball cap and headed out.

    She had arranged to meet Kali at a coffee shop; by the time Jete arrived, Kali was already there.

    Jete took the seat across from her, slipped off her cap, and got straight to the point. "Help me. I''m staying in Crestwood to go after Citrine, but first, I need to be your brother''s woman."

    Kali nced at the gold locket hanging from Jete''s neck, a sly smile flickering on her lips. "Are you sure? My brother isn''t someone you want to mess with. If he finds out what you''re up to, you''ll regret it."

    "I''ve already made up my mind." Jete''s tone left no room for doubt.

    Kali gave her a small, knowing smile. "My brother''s going to a club tonight. I''ll text

    you the address. Whether you seed or not is up to you.¡±

    Jete thanked her and left.

    That night, she slipped into a simple white dress, kept her makeup soft and natural, and checked her reflection. Her innocent look contrasted sharply with the nightlife she was about to enter, and she seemed satisfied with the result.

    When it was nearly time, she grabbed her purse and headed out to Midnight Bar.

    Once inside, Jete made her way to the bar and ordered a strong drink before sitting down.

    She perched alone at the counter, every so often taking a sip, her

    whole demeanor radiating heartbreak. Her delicate white dress made her stand out starkly against the thumping music and shing

    lights of the club, drawing more than

    a few curious nces.

    Meanwhile, Theo and his friends had just arrived and took seats at the next table.

    One of them had noticed Jete the moment they walked in. With a mischievous grin, he nudged his

    friends. "Check out the girl in th

    white dress over there. She looks like she''s never set foot in a ce like this. Innocent as an angel, but here she is."

    "Definitely a good girl out of her element."

    Someone teased, "What, you interested?"

    "Yeah, maybe I am."

    "She''s all by herself. Why don''t you go keep herpany?"

 Chapter 554

    Theo followed their gazes and nced over, pausing in surprise when he saw the woman''s face.

    "Jete? What''s she doing here?"

    Remembering she was a friend of his younger sister, he hesitated for a moment, then made his way over and sat across from her.

    Jete''s heart was pounding with excitement, but she forced herself to act oblivious, pretending to be tipsy and out of sorts.

    "Who... who are you? Why are you sitting here?" she slurred, looking up at him with feigned confusion.

    Theo frowned. "This isn''t the kind of ce you should be hanging around. Go home, Jete."

    Jete threw her hands in the air in wild exaggeration. "Go home? Go where? The house is gone, my father''s in jail, my mother left... I don''t have a home anymore."

    Only then did Theo remember the recent events, the headlines from earlier that day. He pressed his lips together. "Then you should at least get a room at a hotel for the night."

    Jete shook her head stubbornly. "I... I haven''t had enough to drink yet."

    Theo''s frown deepened. "You''re already drunk. I''ll have someone take you back."

    He rose to leave, but suddenly Jete grabbed his hand.

    "Don''t go," she pleaded.

    Assuming she was just being belligerent, Theo tried to pull away, but her grip was surprisingly strong-he couldn''t shake her off.

    As they struggled, something slipped from beneath the cor of Jete''s shirt, catching the light.

    Theo''s expression changed in an instant. He grabbed the pendant hanging from her neck¡ªa battered old locket-and demanded urgently, "Where did you get this? How do you have it?"

    Jete''s eyes shed with a sly, triumphant look, though it vanished almost as quickly.

    She met his gaze, frowning in mock confusion. "What are you talking about? This locket''s a family keepsake. My parents gave it to me."

    Theo couldn''t hide his agitation. ¡°Did you have it since you were a kid?"

    "Of course," Jete replied, giving him a strange look.

    He stared at the locket, tracing the intricate pattern and the single deep scratch across its surface-a mark he remembered all too well. Memories rushed back, unbidden.

    He had been just a boy the first time he visited Havencrest with Talbot. Talbot had work to do, so Theo wandered off alone, curiosity getting the better of him.

    Havencrest was dazzling for a child, full of noise and color, and Theo-restless and mischievous at that age was drawn straight to the busiest part of town.

    Vendors crowded the street, hawking their wares to a swirl of locals and tourists. In the chaos, Theo didn''t notice the group of shady men following him.

    He''d barely reached a quiet alley when they jumped him, shoving a bup sack over his head.

    He fought as hard as he could, but they were stronger-he was just a little kid.

    Just when Theo thought he was done for, a little girl charged out of nowhere, flinging a handful of cayenne pepper into the kidnappers'' faces.

    The men staggered back, blinded and cursing.

    The girl yanked the sack off Theo''s head, grabbed his hand, and took off running. "Help! Somebody help! Kidnappers!" she shouted at the top of her lungs as they sprinted down the street.

    He remembered the locket bouncing against her neck, clinking with every stride¡ª and the deep scratch across its surface.

    She was even smaller than he was, barely reaching his shoulder, but her eyes burned with fierce determination.

    Once they reached safety, she let go of his hand and fixed him with a solemn stare. "I saved you."

    "What do you want?" Theo had asked, wary-he''d grown up with theplicated politics of the Glenwood family and trusted no one.

    But the girl shook her head. "I saved.

    you, so now you''re mine. You have

    to listen to me from now on. You

    can only like me-you''re not allowed tolike your little sister."

 Chapter 555

    The little girl had rushed off right after saving him, so quickly that Theo hadn''t even managed to ask her name.

    Even after so many years, what lingered most in his memory was the old silver locket she wore, scratched and battered with age.

    All these years, Theo had never given up searching for her. But they''d both been so young, and aside from that locket, he had nothing else to go on. Looking for her was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

    Now, as Theo looked at Jete, his eyes were shining with a hint of excitement. Testing the waters, he asked, "Do you remember anything from years ago on Old Willow Lane in Havencrest?"

    Jete put on a thoughtful expression, pretending to dig through her memories. After a moment, she said, "Old Willow Lane? I hardly ever went there, but there was one time I''ll never forget."

    Theo fixed his gaze on her, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

    Jete''s mind wandered to the story Kali had once told her about the scratched locket. Her eyes dimmed a little as she began, "I was very young-maybe six or seven at the time. I remember running into a group of kidnappers in the neighborhood. They had snatched a boy, and I think... I think I was the one who managed to help him escape."

    Theo''s emotions got the better of him. He gripped Jete''s shoulders, looking at her intently. "Do you remember what you said to him back then?"

    Jete feigned embarrassment, her cheeks flushing. "I told him... since I saved him, he belonged to me from then on."

    That was all Theo needed to hear. His doubts vanishedpletely.

    Jete nced at him, a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes.

    She asked, feigning surprise, "That was between me and that boy. How do you know about it?"

    As she spoke, she suddenly covered her mouth. "Wait... Don''t tell me you''re the boy I met on Old Willow Lane?"

    Theo nodded.

    A rush of emotion overtook Jete, and she jumped to her feet. "So it was you! I''ve been searching for you for years."

    Her words trailed off, and the smile on her face faded a little. She looked at Theo, her voice awkward and uncertain. "Theo, I never imagined we''d meet again like this."

    She fidgeted, looking down. "I... I must look like a mess right now."

    Theo met her gaze, speaking each word clearly. "Don''t worry. You saved me once, and I won''t turn my back on you. If you don''t mind you can stay with me from now on. I''ll look out for you."

    A triumphant smile briefly shed in Jete''s eyes.

    After Dick''s case finally closed, Citrine''s reputation online soared. Her efforts to help those hurt young women had made her a sensation, and people everywhere now called her the "People''s CEO." The CICI

    Group''s sales numbers shot up right along with her fame.

    Her name had be inte gold-any post mentioning Citrine instantly turned

    into a discussion about women supporting women.

    The events hadn''t gone unnoticed among Crestwood''s business elite. Manypany heads now openly praised Citrine''s character. Several even approached CICI Group, hoping to form partnerships or join the Blood Rain alliance.

    The Watkins family was among them. Thanks to Mamie and Mrs. Watkins, Mr. Watkins had taken a liking to Citrine and personally applied to join Blood Rain.

    There were already thirteen businesses in the alliance now. Citrine''s vision for amercial league wasing closer to reality.

    Meanwhile, at the Steris Group''s private hospital, Sebastiany unconscious in a hospital bed. It wasn''t until after his IV finished that he finally began to stir.

    The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Phipps.

    Sebastian looked around at the familiar hospital room, an odd sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu creeping in. He rubbed his forehead and asked, "Phipps, why am I back in this hospital again?"

 Chapter 556

    Phipps''s eyes darkened as he lowered his head. "Sebastian, you''ve just started your business. You''ve been so busy, you forgot to take care of yourself¡ª copsed at work from exhaustion."

    Sebastian frowned, puzzled. "But I don''t remember any of that happening." He racked his brain, but there was no memory of cking out.

    This was the third time this month he''d woken up in this hospital room, and each time, his memory was aplete nk.

    "You must be under a lot of stresstely, Sebastian. No matter how important work is, your healthes first. You really need to take care of yourself," Phipps said, trying to sound reassuring.

    Sebastian studied him, noticing the way Phipps''s face tightened as he spoke. Something didn''t add up.

    He kept his suspicions to himself, slowly sitting up in bed. "Don''t worry, Phipps. I''ll make sure to get some rest. I should head back now."

    With that, Sebastian left the hospital.

    As soon as he stepped outside, his phone buzzed with notifications. Social media was flooded with posts about Citrine her name was everywhere. Most of the videos about her had already been scrubbed by the Carmichael and Saunders families, but after scrolling through countless threads, Sebastian finally pieced together what had happened.

    The moment he understood, his expression changedpletely. Without thinking twice, he headed straight to Citrine''s house.

    He was so worried he didn''t stop to consider his actions-he just rang the bell. What he didn''t expect was for Citrine''s father to answer the door.

    Raymond looked at Sebastian with barely concealed surprise-and suspicion. "Who are you?" he demanded, eyeing the stranger on his doorstep.

    Sebastian was taken aback but quickly regained hisposure. "Good evening, sir. I''m a friend of Citrine''s. I saw what''s been happening online and wanted to check if she''s alright."

    "A friend?" Raymond''s face darkened. Since when did Citrine have any male friends?

    He narrowed his eyes, giving Sebastian a thorough once-over.

    Just then, Citrine appeared in the hallway, drawn by themotion.

    She blinked in surprise when she saw Sebastian. "What are you doing here?"

    Sebastian''s eyes softened. "Sorry I just saw everything online. I wanted to make sure you''re okay."

    Citrine walked over, ncing at her father as she introduced them. "This is a friend of mine, Sebastian."

    "Nice to meet you. I''m Citrine''s father," Raymond replied, forcinga polite smile. As much as he disliked the situation, he wasn''t about to embarrass his daughter in front ofpany.

    "Good evening, sir." Sebastian picked up on Raymond''s disapproval but offered a polite smile in return.

    Citrine, oblivious to the tension between the two men, turned to her father. "We''ll go downstairs to talk. You should get some rest.¡±

    Raymond shot Sebastian a re that could have frozen him in ce. "Alright," he said through clenched teeth.

    He made a mental note he wouldn''t forget this young man''s face.

    Citrine pulled on a jacket, and the two of them headed downstairs.

    Even then Sebastian couldn''t shake off the chill from Raymond''s re He nced at Citrine. "Sorry. I didn''t to show up at such a bad time." .

    meant

    BUMS

    "Don''t apologize. I appreciate youing." Citrine smiled, surprised by how easily Sebastian shifted

    between his usual self and the more

    reserved side she''d seen in the hospital. She hadn''t expected he''de all this way just for her.

    Right now, he looked genuinely worried.

 Chapter 557

    Beforeing over, Sebastian had rehearsed so many things he wanted to say to her, but the moment he saw her, all the words vanished.

    Right now, he was still finding his feet, unable to offer her any real support.

    She was the CEO of CICI Group-a top graduate from a prestigious university, a bestselling author, raised in a privileged family, every bit as brilliant as she was aplished.

    And he? He was nothing, really. The gap between them couldn''t have been wider -she belonged to the stars, and he was still earthbound.

    Sebastian used to believe he could catch up to her someday. But as time passed, he realized she was growing so fast that there was no way he could ever keep pace. All he could do was look up to her, always chasing an impossible distance.

    After a long silence, Sebastian apologized, his voice low. "I''m sorry. Something like this happens to you, and there''s nothing I can do except check in on you." As he spoke, sadness flickered in his eyes.

    Citrine was quiet for a moment. Then she looked up at him, her gaze unwavering, lips parting just enough to speak: "That''s true."

    Sebastian pressed his lips together, hisshes trembling.

    With a bitterness he couldn''t hide, he muttered, "If only I were a little better."

    At that, Citrine''s eyes shifted, just slightly.

    People with dissociative identities often have alter personalities whose mental age

    is forever frozen at the moment of their trauma.

    It wasn''t that Sebastian wasn''t talented. He was simply trapped in a painful memory he couldn''t escape.

    After all, the real Sebastian was the mastermind behind Steris Group¡ªa CEO who''d built Crestwood''s first business alliance from nothing.

    Remembering what Sebastian had just said, a bold idea began forming in Citrine''s mind.

    She looked at him intently. "Did you mean it? When you said you wanted to help me?"

    Sebastian offered a small, sincere smile. "I did. Anything you need, whatever it is I just want to make you happy."

    Ever since she''d helped him recover the money he was owed, Sebastian had be keenly aware of the gulf between them. She was up in the clouds, and he was worlds apart from her. He''d made up his mind then-if he couldn''t stand at her side, he''d be her loyalpanion, devoted to her in every way.

    Citrine studied him for a while longer. "So, whatever I ask, you''ll do it?"

    He nodded. "If it''s what you want, I''ll do it."

    A hint of a smile yed at Citrine''s lips.

    What was she supposed to do? She was starting to like this alter more than she should.

    If only he could rece that insufferable primary personality. If that ever happened, Steris Group and Vermillion Vanguard would both be his, and since he''d listen to her, that would mean half of bothpanies would be within her grasp.

    Citrine''s pulse quickened at the thought.

    She turned to Sebastian. "I haven''t decided what I want you to do yet. When I do, I''ll let you know."

    Sebastian had no idea what she was really thinking; he was just happy that she needed him at all.

    They talked for a while longer before Sebastian finally left.

    By the time Citrine got home, it waste. She assumed Raymond would be asleep, but the moment she walked through the door, a voice-tinged with annoyance called out.

    "You''re back?"

    Citrine nodded, surprised to see Raymond awake on the couch. "Why aren''t you asleep?"

    "Couldn''t sleep," he grumbled. My daughter''s about to be swept away-how could I possibly sleep?

    After a moment, Raymond asked, "That boy gone?"

    Citrine gave another small nod.

    Raymond looked at his daughter''s innocent eyes and sighed, his tone gentle but firm. "Citrine, you''re eighteen now-you can make your own decisions. I''m not against you dating, but you''re still young You haven''t met many men yet, so it''s easy to be taken in. I have to be clear: if you really do fall for someone, you have to bring him home to meet me first, understand?"

    Citrine blinked in surprise, quickly

    realizing what Raymond was

    thinking. She hurried to exin,

    "Sebastian''s just a friend. I''m ''m not dating him, and I don''t like him that way."

 Chapter 558

    Citrine''s answer was crisp and clear.

    The moment Raymond heard her, he believed her without a second thought.

    After all, the way she dered she had no interest in romance was so blunt-it was obvious she hadn''t developed any feelings yet.

    Looks like that kid doesn''t stand a chance.

    Thinking of the way Sebastian looked at his daughter, Raymond let out a cold, dismissiveugh.

    But when he turned to Citrine, his eyes softened in a way that was almostically gentle. "Anyway, if you ever do start dating, promise you''ll tell me first. I need to make sure he''s good enough for you."

    Citrine didn''t see herself falling in love anytime soon, but when she met Raymond''s earnest gaze, she nodded and gave him her word.

    After New Year''s, winter in Crestwood grew sharper and colder.

    It was around this time that the heirs of the city''s two most powerful families vanished one after the other. Almost simultaneously, both families received letters from Mirage Cay.

    The day after the letters arrived, both houses sent representatives to see Citrine, insisting they had to quit Blood Rain. No matter how many questions she asked, she couldn''t get a straight answer out of them.

    It wasn''t until Citrine ordered Crestwood''s detective agency to investigate with everything they had that she finally learned the truth: both families had been threatened by Mirage Cay.

    Word of their departure spread quickly through Blood Rain''s ranks.

    Now, rumors were everywhere online-people imed Citrine had offended someone from Mirage Cay. Since Mirage Cay couldn''t get to her directly, they were targeting Blood Rain''s members instead, kidnapping the heirs of the two families as a warning.

    The gossip only grew wilder.

    In recent years, Mirage Cay''s

    In

    reputation for violence and human trafficking had only gotten worse. Alt of Crestwood-and even people abroad hade to understand just how terrifying the organization was. With two heirs already taken, fear spread like wildfire through Blood Rain. Everyone worried their family would be next.

    That afternoon, the Blood Rain corporate group chat was a mess: CEOs, directors, and owners all panicking, most of them lining up to announce their withdrawal from Blood Rain.

    Ms. Tyler: "President Carmichael, we only have one son. If Mirage Cay gets their hands on him, my wife would never survive it."

    "President Carmichael, I have aging parents and young kids to care for. Ourpany is small, we have no powerful connections. For us, staying alive is the only thing that matters. I''m sorry, but I have to put my family first and leave Blood Rain, even if it makes me look cowardly."

    "President Carmichael, please¡ªif you ever valued the loyalty we showed you at the start, let us go now."

    "President Carmichael, maybe you don''t realize how terrifying Mirage Cay really is, but every single person in this group does. Don''t me us-we have no choice."

    "Today, someone else''s child has gone missing. Tomorrow, it could be ours. We can''t help being afraid."

    "Those Mirage Cay bastards are absolute monsters. If we stay with Blood Rain, we''re basically hanging our families'' lives over a pit."

    ...

    Message after message, all variations on the same theme: fear, worry, and the desperate urge to leave Blood Rain. Citrine scrolled through them, her head pounding with frustration.

    Out of habit, she reached for her pocket, looking for her cigarettes. All she found was a pack of peppermint candies. She popped one in her mouth, letting the cool vor work through her throat, and felt the edge of her irritation start to fade.

    She knew exactly how ruthless Mirage Cay could be. After a moment, she opened the group chat and sent out a single, decisive message:

    "Anyone who wants to leave can go see Carlotta Yarbrough and sign the paperwork if you want to keep our business partnerships, we''ll stick to the original terms. If you''d rather not, you''re free to walk away, no penalty and no strings attached."

 Chapter 559

    "Thank you, President Carmichael."

    "President Carmichael, consider this a favor we owe you. If there''s ever anything we can do for you in the future, just say the word."

    "President Carmichael, you''re a good person. We''re truly sorry for letting you down."

    "We really are sorry, President Carmichael."

    Citrine was far too gracious; even those who had nned to walk away from Blood Rain couldn''t help but feel a pang of guilt and a certain fondness for her. Still, the terrifying prospect of Mirage Cay left them with no real choice.

    Citrine understood, of course, and bore no grudge against them.

    Now, only The Carmichael Group, C. Corp, The Watkins Group, and The Shaw Group remained in Blood Rain.

    Lately, Citrine could hardly sleep through the night.

    It was only a few days until New Year''s.

    But just then, an aggressive viral flu broke out in Crestwood. Highly contagious, it swept through the city in mere days, bringing Crestwood to its knees.

    When everyone thought things couldn''t possibly get worse, Havencrest and ckhollow sumbed next. Soon after, cities across the country fell one by one -no ce was spared by the epidemic.

    Hospitals everywhere were packed beyond capacity, but even so, resources were woefully insufficient. Many seriously ill patients couldn''t even get an appointment, let alone a bed.

    The flu struck with a vengeance, targeting the immune system. Standard

    treatments proved useless; doctors couldn''t identify the underlying cause and had no effective medication. Ordinary flu remedies only seemed to make things worse, sometimes even elerating the decline.

    In a matter of days, the hospitals saw wave after wave of fatalities.

    On New Year''s Day, Raymond''s father, Weston Carmichael, and Raymond themselves both fell ill.

    The next day, after the housekeeper finished preparing breakfast, neither Weston nor Raymond made their way downstairs. That''s when Citrine sensed something was wrong. She went upstairs and headed first to Raymond''s room.

    Raymondy on his bed, face ghostly pale. An ominous feeling crept over Citrine as she stepped closer and pressed her hand to his forehead.

    He was burning up-scorching hot, as if on fire.

    "This is bad. He must have caught it."

    Citrine quickly found a fresh towel in disinfected it, soaked

    the

    WeLoveling?

    cool water, andid it across Raymond''s brow before

    Next, she checked on Weston.

    Weston''s condition was even worse than

    burninmond''s. Not only was hee

    with fever, but he''d al

    started to ramble incoherently.

    Citrine''s brow furrowed.

    The elderly simply couldn''t weather illness the way the young could. If this went on, it could easily im Weston''s life.

    After a moment''s hesitation, Citrine called for help to have Raymond and Weston taken to the Crestwood Medical Research Center.

    She then instructed everyone at home to take extra precaution.

    But as Citrine prepared to leave, Manley Carmichael and Travis Carmichael protested.

    Travis grabbed her arm. "Citrine, we can''t let you take care of them alone."

    "No way. We''re going with you," Manley said, grabbing his bag without a second thought.

    Their determination was clear. Citrine knew there was no talking them out of it, so she simply nodded.

    "All right then."

    With everyone packed and ready, Citrine drove them to the Crestwood Medical Research Center.

    Halfway there, Manley finally noticed something was off. He frowned in confusion.

    "Citrine, this isn''t the way to Crestwood Hospital.¡±

    Citrine nced at him in the

    rearview mirror, answering calmly, "We''re not going to Crestwood Hospital. There''s no way the main hospital has any beds left

 Chapter 560

    The moment he heard there were no avable beds, Travis''s face changed dramatically. "No beds? Then... what are we supposed to do?"

    Manley shot his absent-minded son a sharp look before turning to his niece, his tone softening. "So, where are we headed now?"

    Citrine replied coolly, "Crestwood Medical Research Center."

    Manley nearly thought he''d misheard her. He stared at her in shock. "Did you say Crestwood Medical Research Center?"

    Citrine''s voice was quiet. "Yes."

    Both Manley and Travis were stunned into silence.

    Manley couldn''t help but speak up again. "Do you mean that Crestwood? The ce where doctors only take patients if they feel like it, and their surgical sess rate is ny-nine point nine eight percent?"

    "Mm-hmm." Citrine''s mind was already racing ahead, focused on getting to the research center as quickly as possible. Her answer was distracted.

    It took Manley and Travis several minutes to process what she''d just said.

    By the time the car came to a smooth stop outside Crestwood Medical Research Center, the two men still looked dazed.

    It was only when Citrine called their names that they snapped out of it and climbed out of the car.

    As they reached the front entrance, someone came out to greet them.

    It was Nathanael, director of Crestwood Medical Research Center.

    Travis didn''t recognize the man, but Manley did he watched the news often and had seen more than a few international interviews with Nathanael.

    Now, the middle-aged man strode purposefully toward them.

    Before Manley or Travis could react, Nathanael stopped right in front of Citrine.

    He nodded deeply, then bowed with unmistakable respect. "Chairwoman, you''ve arrived."

    Citrine''s response was calm and businesslike. "Are the rooms ready?" Nathanael replied, "Everything''s been prepared exactly as you instructed."

    Then, as if remembering something, he added, "We''ve also set up the flu clinic and designated patient rooms per your request. We''ve already started admitting flu patients."

    A satisfied smile flickered across Citrine''s face. "Good. Well done."

    Nathanael''s smile widened at her praise, a sh of pride in his eyes as he straightened, energized by her approval.

    He said cheerfully, "Chairwoman, if you''d like to give me your car keys, I''ll have someone park your car in the garage."

    Citrine handed him the keys without a second thought.

    With that settled, she led Manley and Travis into the research center, striding

    ahead while the two men followed closely behind.

    Everywhere they went, staff greeted Citrine with robust voices-"Good afternoon, Chairwoman!¡±¡ªfilling the halls with warmth and respect.

    Atst, Manley understood: his niece was the mysterious chairwoman of

    Crestwood Medical Research Center.

    He suddenly recalled how, during his

    own treatment at Havencrest,

    everyone from the Viridis Medical

    Institute had been strangely

    attentive and friendly. A bold

    vel

    suspicion now took root in his

    mind-maybe the elusive benefactor

    behind both Havencrest and

    Magnolia Viridis Medical Institute

    was also Citrine.

    For their convenience, Citrine arranged for Raymond and Weston to share a spacious suite.

    Before leaving, she reminded them, "Uncle Manley, Travis, please stay in this suite. The research center is admitting flu patients today-there''ll be a lot of people, and the risk of infection is high. Make sure you wear your protective gear. I have all your meals delivered."

    "What about you?¡± Manley and Travis asked in unison.

 Chapter 561

    Citrine nced at the two of them before speaking. "I need to consult with the other specialists and start working on a treatment."

    In that moment, Travis suddenly felt as if his little sister was a stranger. In the six months he''d been away at university in Havencrest, she had changed. While he''d been standing still, she had grown up frighteningly fast-no longer the kid sister he remembered, but a capable adult who could handle anything thrown her way.

    Uncle Manley gave his niece a long, searching look. His voice was rough as he said, "No matter what happens, promise me you''ll look after yourself. Don''t let yourself get infected."

    He remembered back at Viridis Medical Institute, when the director had confided in him that every sessful surgical protocol he''d used hade from Citrine''s hand. From that day on, Manley had known this girl was no ordinary person-she was meant to soar.

    Now, when she said she could find a cure, Manley didn''t doubt her for a second.

    After leaving the patient ward, Citrine gave the nurses instructions to help Raymond and Weston bring down their fevers using coldpresses. Then she headed straight to her private suite, changed into scrubs, pulled on protective gear, and gathered a team of specialists before heading to theb.

    The nurses had already prepared plenty of samples from flu patients-blood, saliva, everything they''d need for testing.

    Citrine and the others ran tests on all the samples, then threw themselves into the research. This strain of flu was brutally contagious, with a terrifyingly high mortality rate. Older patients and those in poor health didn''t stand a chance.

    The virus was progressing at different speeds in each patient, so Citrine needed to develop targeted treatments for every stage of the illness.

    She and the specialists worked from morning till night without food or rest, barely pausing to catch their breath. But by day''s end, all their effort had yielded almost nothing.

    Most of the other experts were middle-aged. After a full day in theb, they were running on fumes, but not a single oneined.

    As midnight approached, Citrine looked at them and said gently, "You''ve all worked hard enough for today. Go get some rest."

    They protested immediately. "We''re fine, we can keep going."

    "Yes, we can''t just leave you here alone."

    "We can manage a bit longer."

    "There are people out there waiting for a cure. Every day we don''t make progress, more lives are lost. Right now, time isn''t just money-it''s life itself."

    f.n

    Still, Citrine smiled at them, her eyes shining with gratitude. "I''m young, I can handle thete nights. But you need to take care of yourselves. Pushing through without rest will only slow us down in the long run. Please, go get some sleep ande back tomorrow. We''ll take turns."

    She added, "And bring in a few more experts to help out. We''ll work in shifts."

    After a moment''s hesitation, the others exchanged nces and finally agreed. Soon, a fresh team arrived to relieve them.

    That night, Citrine didn''t sleep at all. When dawn broke, her research had only inched forward.

    Team after team cycled through theb, but Gitrine herself worked on tireless and relentless, like a machine. The others watched her

    lose weight and grow paler by the day, it was painful to see.

    "You haven''t slept in days," one of the specialists pleaded. "Let us take over for a while. You need to rest."

    Citrine just shook her head. "We''re close. Once we''ve cracked it, I''ll rest. Not before."

    They all knew how stubborn she was. There was nothing more to say.

    Atst, on the sixth night, Citrine''s perseverance paid off. She

    vel.no

    developed an effective treatment this wave of the flu, along with preventative medication and

    protocols for every stage of the illness.

    That same night, she ordered the research team to begin mass production of the new medicine.

 Chapter 562

    After leaving theb, Citrine fought off exhaustion and dragged her weary body to the suite where Raymond and Weston were staying.

    By now, Raymond''s condition had grown worse, and both men were coughing badly. Fortunately, their fevers had broken, and their minds were clearing-they were conscious and aware.

    It was alreadyte into the night. Only a small bedsidemp lit the suite, and Manley and Travis, who had been taking care of them, were sound asleep on the pull-out beds.

    Citrine crept quietly into the room, intending just to check on the two men and leave. But what she didn''t know was that the moment she stepped inside, both Weston and Raymond were already awake.

    With the flu, it was hard to getfortable-sleepless nights came with the territory.

    Citrine gently tucked the covers around them, then slipped into the bathroom to dampen a washcloth, nning to wipe the sweat from their brows.

    Just as she was about to sit at Raymond''s bedside, he opened his eyes, and at the same time, Weston did too. Both men stared at her, holding their breath and quickly covering their noses and mouths.

    Raymond, tense, looked at his daughter. "Citrine, don''te any closer. You''ll catch this from me."

    Weston chimed in, "He''s right, Citrine. We''re tough old men, we''ll survive. You shouldn''t worry about us-you absolutely can''t risk getting sick."

    Citrine only smiled beneath her mask. "Don''t worry, I''m wearing protection."

    Raymond''s frown deepened. "That''s not enough. This flu is dangerous-it''s taken lives."

    His tone softened. "Please, sweetheart. Listen to me."

    Weston nodded in agreement. "He''s right, Citrine. This illness is brutal. If something happened to you because of us, we''d never forgive ourselves."

    Their stubbornness almost made Citrineugh. She let out a long sigh, keeping herposure. ¡°No one''s dying. We''ve already developed the medicine. Tomorrow, you''ll take it, and you''ll both be fine."

    "Besides, I just want to wipe the sweat off your faces. Sleeping like this can''t befortable-you''ll be up all night."

    Citrine had seen plenty of flu patients and knew how the cold sweats led to restless nights. That''s why she insisted on helping them.

    "Still no," Raymond said, more sternly this time.

    Suddenly, Weston snatched the pillow from his headboard and threw it at Travis and Manley. "Youzy bums! All you do is sleep! Getup and help your old man, will you?"

    He shouted at them, not the least bit worried about waking them up.

    Startled out of a deep sleep, Manley and Travis sat up, dazed and confused, staring at Weston.

    Manley, still groggy, grumbled, "Dad, what are you doing?"

    Travis, never a morning person, snapped, "Grandpa, I was sleeping just fine! Why''d you throw a pillow at me?"

    Their attitude only made Weston angrier. Without thinking, he hurled another pillow. "Useless kids! Like father, like son-neither of you have an ounce of filial piety."

    He red at them fiercely. "Can''t you see the two of us are on death''s door over here?"

    Manley and Travis stared at the two "invalids" for a long moment.

    On death''s door?

    Manley: They don''t look the least bit near death.

    Travis: They''re plenty energetic when ites to yelling at us-doesn''t seem like they''re dying.

    Weston barked, "Get up and help us wipe off this sweat, you two. This is not something Citrine should be doing What if she gets sick because of us? She''s a delicate girl-she can''t handle this kind of misery

    Manley: ...

    Travis: ...

    So it''s fine if we catch it, but not her?

    They exchanged a look-sharing, for the first time, a silent camaraderie born of

    mutual suffering.

 Chapter 563

    Manley and Travis spent a good while trading barbs with Weston, their voices rising and falling in the cramped hospital hallway.

    Suddenly, both father and son seemed to recall something important, and their gazes shifted to Citrine.

    Travis looked at her, concern etched deep into his features. "Citrine, I heard from the director-you haven''t slept a wink these past few days, working around the clock to develop a cure. You''ve barely touched your meals."

    Manley''s voice was thick with worry. "You should get some rest, Citrine. We can handle things here."

    With their words hanging in the air, Weston and Raymond finally noticed the exhaustion shadowing Citrine''s face the dark circles beneath her eyes, the bloodshot whites. Her cheeks had grown hollower, her jawline too sharp, making her look far younger and yet terribly worn down.

    She must have run herself ragged thesest few days.

    Raymond and Weston both felt a sting in their eyes as they watched her, hearts aching at the sight of her drawn, tired face.

    After some gentle cajoling, they finally convinced Citrine to go get some much- needed rest.

    She could barely keep her eyes open as she trudged back to her suite, and the moment she hit the bed, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

    It was the most restful-and the longest-sleep she''d had in ages. Citrine didn''t wake for a full twenty-four hours.

    When she finally opened her eyes, her first thought was to check on Raymond and Weston.

    By then, both men had already taken the experimental medication the research team had worked tirelessly to produce. Combined with Citrine''s earlier efforts¡ª lowering their fevers, disinfecting, and administering antiviral drugs at the onset of their illness-they were already beginning to recover. They looked far more alert, a hint of color returning to their faces.

    The research center was bursting at the seams. Beds were full, and patients with milder cases of the flu were given medicine and sent home. In the past two days, many had started to recover.

    At this point, Crestwood Medical Research Center had be the only institution in the country capable of treating victims of this outbreak.

    The inte was flooded with praise.

    "Everyone, get to Crestwood Medical! I picked up their medicine a few days ago and I''m already back to normal."

    "The doctors and nurses at Crestwood are sopassionate. They treat every patient with real kindness and patience."

    "Hurry up and go-the research center has developed both a cure and a preventative treatment!"

    "And their medicine is so affordable, less than fifty bucks per person. They''re practically giving it away."

    Within a single day, thanks to this online buzz, people began lining up outside Crestwood as early as four or five in the morning just to get a spot.

    Some even traveled through the night from neighboring states, desperate for help.

    But as more and more people arrived, resources at the hospital were stretched to the limit. Some stood in fine all day without ever making it inside. In the days that followed, the news reported that many flu patients had died while waiting for treatment.

    Watching the mounting death toll on the news each night, Citrine wrestled with a sense of helplessness¡ªunti finally, an idea struck. That evening, she registered a video ount verified her credentials as a national senior medical researcher, and went live.  ?wnovel

    At first, her livestream was a ghost town. This was her first time in front of the camera and, despite her curiosity, she felt awkward and out of ce.

    Ten minutes passed, and not a single viewer showed up.

    Just as she was about to end the stream, someone finally joined.

    "Wow, you''re so pretty! Why are you up sote, streaming?"

    Thement caught Citrine off guard. She hesitated, then clicked on the user''s profile-a middle-aged woman''s ount, but the tone in the chat was more like that of a mischievous kid.

    Citrine couldn''t help but smile. "And why are you up sote? Don''t tell me you''re

    sneaking your mom''s phone to y games?"

 Chapter 564

    Meanwhile, in a quiet suburban neighborhood, a boy just past ten sat slumped on his bed, his mood heavy and glum. But when he saw the streamer''s reply pop up on his phone, he shot upright, excitement brightening his eyes.

    He typed quickly: "Sis, I''m not ying games! I''m trying to help my parents book an appointment at Crestwood Medical Research Center!"

    Citrine paused for a moment, then asked gently, "Are your mom and dad down with the flu?"

    At the mention of it, the boy''s face fell again.

    A request to join the live chat came through, and Citrine epted without hesitation.

    A soft, childish voice came from the other end, low and a little weak: "My mom, my dad, and even my grandparents all caught it. I''m the only one at home who''s still okay. They won''t let me near them because they don''t want me to get sick too."

    His voice trembled as he continued, "I heard Crestwood Medical Research Center finally has some special medicine, so I took my mom''s phone and tried to get them an appointment. But there are just too many people trying-I can''t get through at all."

    The boy''s voice broke, close to tears. "I''m useless. I can''t do anything for them."

    Citrine pressed her lips together, her heart aching a little for him. She stayed silent for a moment, then said softly, "If you trust me, I can help."

    The boy sounded surprised. "How?"

    "Do you have any masks at home?" Citrine asked.

    "Yeah, we do."

    "Put one on now and make sure to wash your hands thoroughly. Use sanitizer if you have it," Citrine instructed.

    Clutching his phone, the boy put on a mask and hurried to the bathroom to wash and disinfect his hands just as Citrine told him.

    "Now," she continued, "go check your parents'' and your grandparents'' temperatures. If anyone has a fever, help bring it down with an ice pack or a cold, damp towel on their forehead. If their temperature keeps spiking or dropping, see if you have any antiviral medicine and give them a dose, but only if it''s safe for them."

    The boy followed her instructions-taking everyone''s temperature in turn, helping them cool down, and giving them medicine where needed.

    Citrine calmly coached him gh

    the next possible scenarios, exining what to watch for a t he should do if thing changed.

    "Thank you, sis. You''re really kind," the boy said, his voice full of

    gratitude. From start to finish

    ke

    never once doubted Citrine, trusting herpletely.

    That simple, unguarded trust warmed Citrine''s heart.

    "It''s no trouble," she replied with a smile.

    With that, Citrine ended the call.

    Only then did she notice that her livestream had swelled to over a hundred viewers. Which meant that, as she''d been guiding the boy audience had been quietly growing-everyone listening in.

    the

    She nced at the chat feed. Questions and doubts were already pouring in.

    "Hey, are you sure those tips actually work?"

    "Is your livestream really offering free flu advice, or is that just clickbait?"

    "Is it safe to give antivirals if there''s no fever? Could it make things worse?"

    "You look really young. Your profile says you''re a top medical expert in the country is that true?"

    "No way she''s legit. Nobody that young could be a real expert. Don''t get fooled, people."

    "Watch-she''s about to start asking for money. That''s how these scams go."

    "This girl''s just trying to cash in while we''re all sick. Don''t let her get away with it." "Taking advantage of sick people is just wrong. Bad thingse to those who do."

    Citrine stared at the screen, at a loss for words. She hadn''t asked for a single cent. So how did she suddenly be the scammer?

 Chapter 565

    Citrine didn''t let the unfriendlyments in her stream get under her skin. She understood-after all, she was a neer, so it was only natural for people to be skeptical.

    Looking at the chat, Citrine addressed them calmly, "I''m not here to scam anyone or make money. Consultations are free-there''s no charge."

    With that, she ended the livestream.

    The past couple of days, the hospital''s wards had been packed with patients suffering from severe cases of the flu. There wasn''t a single room left.

    Citrine had already worked out the best treatment ns for the most critical patients. For those whose organs were under attack by the virus, she''d even put together specialized surgical protocols.

    Her initial n was to use the livestream to help more people understand how to manage the early stages of the illness, but since that hadn''t gone well, she quickly moved on to n B.

    That evening, she had the Crestwood Medical Research Center release a public announcement: any reputable public or private hospital interested in coborating was wee to partner with Crestwood.

    Within half an hour, hospitals big and small from cities all over reached out to discuss working together.

    With so many hospitals joining forces, Citrine felt confident that they''d get this wave of flu under control soon.

    That day, as Citrine stepped out of the Weston and Raymond family''s private suite, she heard amotion in the main lobby.

    Frowning slightly, she walked toward the noise. As she reached the front desk, a familiar voice caught her ear.

    "Where''s the director? I need to see the director."

    "We''re the Saunders. Our aunt is in critical condition-she''s unconscious. Please, can you make an exception and let her be admitted?"

    "We''ll pay whatever it takes. Just give us a room."

    The receptionist looked apologetic but kept her tone polite. "I''m sorry, sir, but we''repletely full today. There aren''t any rooms left in the hospital."

    Monica and Wade¡ªsiblings¡ªwent pale. Monica clung to a shred of hope as she pleaded, "Could I at least speak to your director?"

    The receptionist shook her head. "I''m sorry, the director is busy and won''t be able to see you."

    Just then, she spotted Citrine approaching. Forgetting Monica and Wade for a moment, the receptionist straightened up and gave a deep, respectful bow.

    "Chairwoman."

    Citrine nodded at her in acknowledgment.

    Monica and Wade stared in disbelief when they saw Citrine. "Citrine? What are you doing here?"

    It clicked for Monica, especially after hearing the receptionist''s greeting Her eyes widened in shock. "You''re the chairwoman of Crestwood Medical Research Center?

    Citrine nodded.

    The siblings were speechless, too stunned to react.

    It wasn''t until Citrine addressed them that they snapped back to reality. "What were you just talking about?"

    Monica hesitated, a little

    embarrassed. "Citrine, it''s our aunt. She''s got the flu, and it''s really bad. She started coughing up blood and passed out. We came here hoping to get her a hospital bed."

    Hearing that Hilda had lost consciousness, Citrine''s brow furrowed. "We don''t

    have any rooms left at the research center right now," she told them.

    The moment she spoke,

    disappointment and worry flickered across Monica and Wade''s faces. They were about to leave and try another hospital when Citrine added, "Come with me."

    She turned and walked away.

    Monica and Wade''s faces lit up, and they hurried after her.

    Citrine led them to her private suite.

    When they stepped inside, both Monica and Wade froze in surprise.

 Chapter 566

    Monica asked, "What is this?"

    Citrine replied easily, "This is my suite. When the timees, she can stay here. Hurry and bring her over."

    Relief washed over Monica and Wade, and they immediately called for Hilda to be brought in.

    By now, Hilda had already lost consciousness.

    Citrine stepped forward to check her condition, frowning slightly.

    Monica and Wade watched Citrine anxiously. Noticing her expression, Monica quickly asked, ¡°Is something wrong? Is it very serious?"

    "She''s sustained internal injuries. We need to operate right away," Citrine replied, her tone grave.

    Monica and Wade hadn''t expected things to be so dire. Both of them tensed, voices trembling as they asked, "Is the surgery risky? What are her chances?" Citrine offered a reassuring nod. "She''ll pull through. It just won''t be easy for her." Their faces rxed, though worry still lingered in their eyes.

    Citrine continued, "Alright, I''m going to prep for surgery. The two of you should stay here; there are too many people outside and the risk of infection is higher."

    With that, Citrine slipped into another room to change into scrubs, then headed out to arrange the surgical setup.

    All the specialists at the hospital were already booked solid for the day; none were avable to assist. Left with no choice, Citrine had two off-duty experts called in to help with the operation.

    An hourter, everything was ready. Citrine led the assembled team back to her suite.

    Inside, Monica and Wade immediately stood up as the group entered.

    Citrine, now dressed in crisp white scrubs, stood at the front. The other doctors trailed behind her, their respect for her evident in the way they leaned in to confer quietly.

    Monica and Wade exchanged uneasy nces, sensing that something about the scene was unusual.

    But there was no time to dwell on it. Monica stared at Citrine''s surgical attire, surprised. "Citrine? Are you going in yourself?"

    "Yes," Citrine answered, offering no further exnation.

    Without another word, she led her,

    team into the bedroom, locking the door behind them. Monica and Wade had no choice but to wait

    anxiously in the living room.

    Four and a half hourster, the bedroom door finally opened. Citrine and the other

    doctors emerged, and Monica and Wade hurried over.

    "How is she?" they blurted out, anxiety etched on their faces.

    Citrine smiled. "The surgery went very well. She''ll wake up in about an hour."

    Monica and Wade both breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

    Citrine, who hadn''t rested properly in days, helped the other specialists tidy up before slipping away to a staff lounge for a quick nap.

    Around noon, a nurse came to check on the patient and headed to Citrine''s suite.

    By then, Hilda had already woken up. Monica and Wade sat by her side, filling her in on everything that had happened.

    "Aunt Hilda, Monica said, "we owe everything to Citrine. The hospital waspletely full, but she made an exception and gave up heDown suite so you''d have a ce."

    Wade nodded. "That''s right, Aunt Hilda. If not for Citrine, we never would have gotten you admitted."

    Learning that her own daughter had helped her, Hilda''s heart warmed, a smile spreading across her face despite herself.

    But as soon as she smiled, pain shot through her chest. She clutched at her bandaged wound and coughed for a good while.

    Monica and Wade instantly panicked. "Auntie, are you alright? Did you reopen the incision?"

    At that moment, the nurse checking

    in on them couldn''t help butugh. "Don''t worry. Our director''s stitching skills are the best in the whole research center. That incision''s noting apart anytime soon."

 Chapter 567

    Monica and Wade stared in disbelief. "You mean Citrine performed the surgery herself?" They had assumed Citrine was simply overseeing the operation alongside the other specialists, never imagining she would actually be involved hands-on.

    The nurse, overhearing their conversation, paused in surprise. "Aren''t you close to the president? How could you not know?"

    She continued, a touch of pride in her voice, "Our president is the star expert at Crestwood Medical Research Center. She rarely steps into the operating room herself, but when she does, there''s nothing to worry about. Your surgery was performed personally by her, so you''re really in the best hands."

    The nurse''s admiration was obvious, her face glowing with pride as she spoke.

    Hearing the words "important people," Hilda''s eyes lit up.

    This was the first time she truly understood Citrine''s aplishments and reputation in the medical field. She couldn''t help but be stunned. "Citrine is incredible. To have achieved so much by eighteen-there can''t be another person in the world like her."

    An eighteen-year-old CEO of a listed corporation, bestselling author, leading expert at Crestwood Medical Research Center, and the enigmatic president behind it all¡ªany one of these titles would be enough to turn heads.

    The nurse, clearly delighted by Hilda''s praise, became even more enthusiastic, her eyes shining as if she''d found a kindred spirit. "Our president isn''t just brilliant ¡ªshe''spassionate too. When she saw how many people were dying from the flu outbreak, she worked six days and nights straight without sleep to develop a new antiviral, and she designed a whole range of treatment protocols. Without her, I don''t know how we would''ve gotten through this epidemic."

    Monica, Wade, and Hilda all stared at the nurse, stunned-and, beneath the shock, unmistakably proud.

    None of them had realized Citrine was the one behind the breakthrough flu treatment and the new protocols.

    For generations, the Saunders family had made their mark in business, yet now they had a scientific genius among them-just thinking about it was electrifying. Suddenly, the nurse''s face brightened with curiosity. She grinned at the three of them, her tone turning yful. "So, what''s your connection to our president anyway? She didn''t just pull some strings for you¡ªshe even let you use her private recovery suite for the surgery. And you should know, she''s a bit of a neat freak-no one''s allowed in there except the cleaning crew, and even that''s rare!"

    The excitement in the room was palpable, especially for Hilda. Her heart pounded with pride as she took it all in.

    After a moment, she smiled and said, "We''re family." She hesitated to reveal more, not wanting to expose the mother-daughter rtionship without Citrine''s consent.

    The nurse nodded knowingly. "That exins it. The president treats you all so differently."

    Catching the nurse''s excitement, Hilda smiled and asked, "You really like your president, don''t you?"

    "Of course!" the nurse replied instantly. "Honestly, I think everyone at the research center admires her."

    "She''s not just an outstanding doctor-she''s a wonderful leader too."

    ...

    After showering Citrine with praise, the nurse finally bustled out.

    No sooner had she left than Citrine

    herself walked in, carrying

    takeout containers. She severalet

    handed one to Monica. "Here, while it''s still hot."

    Monica epted the food, a little dazed. "Thank you, Citrine."

    From the moment Citrine entered, Hilda''s gaze never left her. The pain

    away at the sight of her daughter.

    her wounds seemed to fade

    Hilda looked at Citrine, her eyes shining with emotion. "I heard

    everything. Thank you for gett

    me

    into the hospital, and for doing the surgery yourself."  fo

    Citrine just smiled at Hilda, then asked, "How are you feeling? Any better now?"

    Was her daughter actually worried about her?

    Hilda''s eyes filled with tears. She answered, voice trembling with gratitude, "Much better. Honestly, I don''t feel any pain at all."

    Meeting Hilda''s intense, loving gaze, Citrine felt suddenly shy and nced away, replying awkwardly,

 Chapter 568

    "From here on out, make sure to take your meds as scheduled and get plenty of rest. If all goes well, you should be ready to leave the hospital in about two weeks."

    Hilda looked surprised. "Two weeks?"

    "That''s right." Citrine nced up at Hilda, sensing her hesitation.

    Assuming Hilda thought the hospital stay was too long, Citrine hesitated before adding, "After all, you just had surgery-proper recovery is important. But if you''re worried about getting bored while you''re here, I''ve got some books you can borrow."

    Hilda rushed to exin, "No, it''s not that... I''m not bored at all."

    In fact, she felt the exact opposite. She thought recovering from surgery would mean a two- or three-month stay, not just two weeks. Two weeks felt far too short -hardly enough time to spend with her daughter.

    Hilda almost wished the surgery had been moreplicated, just so she could stay longer.

    That night, Citrine found an empty lounge to rest in.

    On a whim, she opened her livestream app again.

    As soon as the app loaded, she noticed a notification: 99+ new messages. She clicked through and saw she''d gained nearly a hundred followers, and her inbox was full of private messages.

    Citrine tapped a few at random:

    "When are you streaming again? I''m waiting!"

    "You must be some kind of miracle worker! When''s your next stream? I want to send you a gift."

    "Please go live soon! Can''t wait!"

    She smiled at the messages, then decided to start her livestream. Unlikest time, when hardly anyone tuned in, as soon as she went live, viewers flooded into the chat.

    "You''re finally back!" someone wrote.

    "Thank you! I did exactly what you said-brought down their fever, gave them the meds, and then went to Crestwood Medical Center to buy what you

    rmended. After they took it, everyone got so much better!"

    Citrine smiled when she saw thement. "I''m d to hear that. Make sure they get plenty of rest for the next few days."

    She paused, then added, "And remember, if your grandparents have chronic health conditions, keep a close eye on them."

    A young boy replied, "Thank you! I will."

    Meanwhile, in a small house on the outskirts of Crestwood, the boy''s family was gathered around him, watching Citrine''s livestream on his phone. They couldn''t help but feel a deep gratitude for the young woman on the screen.

    If not for her advice, they might not have made it through the flu outbreak. With the local medical

    unable to get an appointmeemet

    center overwhelmed, they''d been

    without her, they might not have survived. She had saved their lives.

    The boy''s mother gently took the phone and typed, "Hello, I''m his mom. Thank you for saving our family. We will never forget what you did for us."

    After sending the message, she immediately topped up her ount and sent Citrine a donation worth several thousand dors.

    They weren''t wealthy, but they wanted to repay this enormous debt of gratitude, so she sent Citrine a portion of their savings.

    Back in her room, Citrine saw the mother''s message, and then her screen lit up with a shower of virtual gifts.

    She stared at the screen, stunned. The single gift from the boy''s mother was worth more than seven thousand dors.

    Citrine was shocked. She hadn''t done anything special-certainly nothing to deserve such arge reward.

    She remembered her earlier

    conversations with the boy; from his words, she could tell his family wasn''t particrly well-off. Seven thousand dors was probably a

    huge amount for them. How could she possibly ept it?

    She frowned slightly, then spoke up. "I promised my help was free. Please don''t

    send me gifts¡ªI can''t ept them."

    Quietly, Citrine turned off the donation feature on the streaming tform, then opened the refund page and sent the entire amount back.

    Because the tform had kept a portion as a transaction fee, Citrine added, "Once I end the stream, I''ll transfer back the amount the tform deducted. That money is your savings-I can''t take it."

 Chapter 569

    Aside from the little boy and his mother, plenty of other people were leavingments.

    "Hey, I owe you an apology forst time. Turns out your advice really worked! I had someone with the flu at home, followed your instructions, and it made a real difference."

    "Same here! I took care of my dad the way you said, and he''s recovered now."

    "You''re amazing, honestly. We were too quick to judge-we never should''ve jumped to conclusions about you."

    "You keep refusing gifts, but I have to send you something-otherwise I''ll feel guilty forever!"

    Even though Citrine had made it clear she wouldn''t ept gifts, people still wanted to show their gratitude.

    But when they tried to send her something, they realized the gift function on her stream was disabled.

    Someone typed, "Hey, why did you turn off gifts?"

    "Yeah, I wanted to send you a little something to say thanks!"

    "Citrine, can you turn the gift option back on?"

    Seeing the messages, Citrine smiled and said, "I''ve told you all before-my advice is always free, and I won''t ept any gifts. Please, there''s no need."

    After that, more people started asking about their own health issues. As long as it was something that didn''t require medical equipment to diagnose, Citrine offered her suggestions and treatment ns.

    It was about an hour and a half before she finally ended the stream.

    For the next few days, whenever Citrine had free time in the evenings, she would pop on to livestream for a bit. After several days of this, her follower count on the tform had jumped by nearly fifty thousand.

    Ever since the partnership with

    Crestwood Medical Research Center began, hospitals across the country big and small-had immediately stocked up on the new flu medication. Complete treatment ns and surgical procedures for fluplications were now avable as well.

    The number of flu-rted deaths was steadily dropping.

    Meanwhile, inside Saunders Mansion-

    Herschel and Inez had just heard from Monica and Wade about their granddaughter. The moment they finished listening, they couldn''t sit still¡ªno matter what, they insisted on going to the research center to meet her.

    Monica and Wade tried to talk them out of it, but eventually had no choice but to take them along.

    As soon as Hilda saw her parents, she sat up in her hospital bed.

    "Mom, Dad-what are you doing here?" she asked, surprise written all over her face.

    Inez frowned. "You have to ask? Ever since we found out about our granddaughter, we haven''t evenid eyes on her. We''re here today to finally meet her-and see you, too, of course."

    Hilda knew how wary her daughter was of the Saunders family, and she couldn''t help feeling a little anxious. Her brow furrowed. "Mom, Dad, barging in like this might scare Citrine off."

    Herschel promised, "Don''t worry. We''ve been practicing keeping our emotions in check¡ªwe won''t get too worked up and frighten her."

    Inez nodded. "Exactly. Your father''s right."

    Hilda could only sigh and say nothing more.

    fol.ne

    The thought of finally meeting their granddaughter had the elderly couple so excited they could barely contain themselves. From the moment they sat down, they kept checking the time and ncing toward the door, barely sparing a thought for their beloved daughter who was still lying in bed.

    They waited from midday until evening, but Citrine never showed up. Slowly, their

    eager anticipation faded into disappointment.

    Inez asked quietly, "Sweetheart, do you know when our granddaughter will be here?"

    Herschel chimed in, "Will we get to see Citrine tonight?"

    Hilda looked at her parents'' hopeful

    faces and let out a long sigh. "Citrine sometimes drops by, but there''s never a set time. She hasn''te these past couple of days, and? have no idea if she''ll show up tonight."

    ncing at the door, a quiet hope flickered in Hilda''s eyes.

 Chapter 570

    She wanted to see her daughter more than anyone in the world.

    As the hopeful anticipation faded from the room, the quiet click of footsteps drifted in from the hallway.

    Hilda had spent so many days longing for her daughter''s visits that she''d developed a knack for recognizing people just by the sound of their steps. She knew, without even looking up, that it was her daughter approaching.

    For the first time in days, a spark lit up her usually calm, expressionless eyes.

    Citrine hadn''te by recently-she''d taken a couple of days to rest at home. But after hearing from the nurse during rounds that Monica and Wade had left for the day, Citrine had hesitated, wondering if Hilda might needpany, and finally decided to stop by.

    She hadn''t expected to walk in on a scene quite like this.

    The moment Citrine stepped inside, Herschel and Inez locked their eyes on her, their gazes so intent it was as if they were afraid to even blink.

    No matter howposed she usually was, Citrine couldn''t help feeling a little uneasy under such earnest scrutiny. She instinctively took a few steps back.

    Seeing her daughter startled, Hilda grew anxious and quickly called out, "Dad, Mom, you''re scaring Citrine."

    But Herschel and Inez seemed oblivious, their eyes fixed on Citrine with unblinking intensity.

    Hilda sighed, apologetic, and turned to Citrine. "I''m so sorry, Citrine. I didn''t mean for them to frighten you."

    Then, trying to smooth things over, she introduced them. "These are my parents."

    Citrine gave the elderly couple a polite nod.

    Unlike the old-fashioned families of the past, the Saunders were famous throughout Crestwood for doting on daughters. Hilda had been their only girl, cherished by Herschel and Inez as the center of their world. Now, meeting their granddaughter for the first time, their affection seemed to overflow.

    "Our Citrine is beautiful," Inez murmured, her eyes shining with tears as she looked at the girl who so closely resembled her daughter. She turned away, dabbing at her eyes, her voice trembling. "Look at me.. I''m too old to keep my emotions in check."

    After regaining herposure, Inez stepped forward and sped Citrine''s hand, voice thick with

    emotion. "Citrine, sweethou''ve

    suffered so much all these years."

    Citrine stood there, uncertain, not quite sure what to say.

    Herschel, noticing his wife''s emotional state, gently pinched her arm and gave her a meaningful look.

    Inez snapped back to herself and hurriedly apologized. "I''m sorry, so sorry. It''s just your grandmother getting carried away and scaring you."

    Citrine offered a small, reassuring smile. "It''s all right."

    Seeing her granddaughter ept the apology, Inez''s heart soared.

    Citrine was acknowledging her as family.

    Seizing the moment, Inez reached into her purse and pressed a smal envelope into Citrine''s hand. "Citrine, this is a little something from your grandmother. Please, take it."

    Citrine started in surprise and immediately tried to hand it back. ¡°Oh, I can''t ept

    this," she said, trying to return the envelope.

    But Inez held firm. "Sweetheart, this is a gift from your grandmother. You must

    keep it."

    Just then, Herschel pulled out an envelope of his own and pushed it into Citrine''s

    free hand. "And this is from your grandfather."

    Citrine tried to protest, but Herschel gently stopped her.

    Their warmth was almost overwhelming.

    Hilda watched her daughter with a smile. "Go ahead and ept it, Citrine. It means a lot to them."

 Chapter 571

    Inez and Herschel were almost overwhelmingly warm and weing, leaving Citrine unsure how to interact with them.

    Still, she epted the two red envelopes they offered her.

    She slipped them into her coat pocket, then made her way over to Hilda as if by instinct.

    Falling into her usual role as a doctor, she asked, "How are you feeling today? Any difort anywhere?"

    Hilda''s heart filled with warmth at her daughter''s concern.

    She smiled, "I feel great, really. Noints at all."

    Being able to see her daughter every day and bask in her care-it was morefort than she''d ever felt at home. Honestly, she was starting to hope she could stay at the research center a little longer.

    But time, as always, moved quickly.

    A few dayster, both Weston and Raymond had fully recovered from the flu. Citrine handled their discharge paperwork and arranged for them to be sent home.

    The following week, Hilda was discharged as well.

    Yet the flu outbreak was far from over. Every day, thousands lined up at the research center from dawn till dusk.

    Worse, many patients had severeplications-their immune systems copsing, their organs under threat. For these people, the hospital stay was the least of their worries; what truly crushed them was the astronomical cost of surgery.

    One day, a single mother arrived at the hospital, carrying her unconscious child in her arms. She didn''t have a cent in her pocket.

    She hadn''t even made it through the doors before security stopped her.

    "Ma''am, you''ll need to register at reception first," one of the guards told her.

    The woman hesitated, clearly embarrassed. After a long pause, she finally admitted, "I... I don''t have any money."

    She nced down at the feverish boy in her arms, then suddenly dropped to her knees. "Please, I''m begging you save my child. He''s burning up, he''s already passed out. If this goes on, he won''t make it."

    The security guard looked ufortable. "I''m sorry, ma''am, but that''s not my decision to make."

    At his words, the mother burst into tears, her sobs wracking her body.

    Just then, Citrine happened to walk by.

    She frowned slightly and stepped forward. "What''s going on here?"

    The guards straightened immediately and greeted her with respect. "Good morning, Ms. Sterling."

    Citrine nodded.

    The guard exined, "Ms. Sterling, thisdy''s child has the flu, but she can''t pay. She''s hoping the hospital can make an exception."

    Hearing how the guards addressed Citrine, the woman looked up at her, eyes wide with hope.

    Like someone clinging to a lifeline, she stared at Citrine and, without another word, bowed her head to the floor in desperation.

    "Please, Ms. Sterling, save my child!"

    Startled, Citrine hurried over and gently helped the woman to her feet. "Please, ma''am, there''s no need for that. Get up. I can''t ept this."

    Up close, the woman finally saw

    Citrine''s face clearly-a strikingly et

    beautiful girl, with a touch of

    ess that made her look no

    older than seventeen or eighteen.

    "Ms. Sterling, I''m begging you, please save my son." Remembering the guards'' deference and how respectfully they''d spoken to this girl, the woman pinned all her hopes on Citrine.

    Citrine didn''t waste time. She pressed the back of her hand to the little boy''s forehead, then gently opened his eyes to check his pupils before speaking. "He''s in bad shape. He needs emergency surgery-now."

    She turned to the nurse nearby. ¡°Prep a temporary room and notify Dr. Austin and

    Dr. Smith. We need to get ready for surgery immediately."

    Another nurse gently took the child from the mother''s arms and hurried off.

 Chapter 572

    Citrine and the woman followed behind in silence.

    Once upstairs, Citrine returned to her suite to change into surgical scrubs. Dr. Austin and Dr. Smith were already prepared, and together, they headed into the operating room.

    Several hours passed before Citrine and the team of doctors and nurses finally emerged.

    Outside, the woman''s eyes were swollen and red-she''d clearly been crying for a long time. The moment Citrine appeared, she jumped to her feet. "How did it go? Was the surgery a sess?"

    Her voice was tight with worry as she searched Citrine''s face for reassurance.

    "It went well. You can rx now," Citrine replied with a gentle smile.

    The relief hit the woman all at once. She sank onto the bench and broke down in tears, the weight of days filled with fear and anguish pouring out of her. She couldn''t hold back anymore.

    Citrine wasn''t sure how tofort her, so she simply rested a hand on the woman''s shoulder.

    "Hang in there. As long as you''re alive, there''s always hope."

    Maybe it was because Citrine was the only one who''d helped her at rock bottom, but in that moment, the woman finally felt the urge to open up.

    With a bitterugh, she confessed, "You probably won''t believe this, but since I got pregnant, I haven''t even been able to scrape together fifty dors."

    ¡°When I found out I was expecting, my husband''s family talked me into quitting my job to focus on the pregnancy. I agreed without thinking it through, but the moment I left work, they started ming me for not making any money. Every day, I had to put up with their criticism and constant pressure. I thought things couldn''t get any worse. But then, just as I was nearing my due date, my husband cheated on me¡ªand even had a child with the other woman. While I was distracted, he transferred all our assets to his parents'' name. After I gave birth, he served me divorce papers. It wasn''t until I signed them that I realized I was left with nothing."

    Tears streamed down her cheeks as she spoke.

    Citrine still didn''t know what to say. She handed the woman a tissue in silence.

    The woman wiped her face, then suddenly knelt on the floor with a thud. "Thank you. You saved my daughter''s life. I swear I''ll pay you back for the surgery-every cent."

    Citrine quickly helped her up. "Go check on your child first," she said quietly.

    Stories like this happened every day. Citrine couldn''t help everyone. She''d only stepped in this time because she happened to see it unfold.

    That evening, after returning home, Citrine thought long and hard before contacting the hospital administration.

    "Starting tomorrow, set up a charity window at the Medical Center. For flu patients, from struggling families, or anyone facing real hardship, once their situation is confirmed, surgery fees are to be cut in half. And if the circumstances are especially urgent, treat them first-let them payter."

    "And another thing: from now on, ? when the hospital takes in flu patients, priority goes to the elderly and children. Their immune systems are weak, and without prompt treatment, their lives are at risk."

    With that, Citrine turned off her phone.

    What she didn''t realize was that not every hospital partnered with the Medical Research Center shared the samepassion. For some, human life was just another number on a bnce sheet.

    The new antiviral drugs and rted treatments were cheap. But for flu patients whose organs had been

    damaged, a single surgery coul

    cost tens of thousands of dors. Some hospitals would deliberately detay treatment-either ignoring the illness in its early stages or prescribing weak medication that did nothing. As a result, the disease

    would worsen, leading to organ

    failure. By then, surgery was the only option.

    At that point, surgery was no longer about saving lives-it had be just

    another way for big business to make a profit.

 Chapter 573

    Even before the partnership began, Citrine had already sent people to investigate hospitals big and small. But people''s hearts are unpredictable, and when faced with the lure of money, few can truly resist their own desires.

    Desire is like a demon-it chips away at a once-innocent soul until there''s nothing left.

    Crestwood Medical Research Center had established coborations with hospitals across the country. In theory, this outbreak should''ve been swiftly contained. Instead, the opposite happened: a number of hospitals and rted organizations saw the crisis as a golden opportunity, exploiting it to make a fortune.

    At first, patients didn''t notice anything amiss. But as hospitals grew increasingly callous, more and more people suffered some were dyed so long in getting proper care that, by the time they finally saw a doctor, it was toote even to attempt surgery. All they could do was wait for the end.

    This utterck of responsibility and the toxic atmosphere infected the doctors, too. Mistakes crept into the operating room, and patients who might have survived

    died needlessly on the table.

    Recently, flu patients all over the country took to the inte, venting their outrage about the hospitals'' negligence.

    "Stay away from Havencrest Prime Medical Center. My wife was

    pregnant when she caught the flu.d took her to the hospital, and the

    doctor prescribed some medication.

    She took it for about a get

    but

    instead of getting better, she got

    much worse-the infection spread to her lungs. I made another appointment with a different

    specialist, and that doctor

    immediately insisted on surgery. I signed the consent form, never expecting that both my wife and our child would die under that doctor''s care. Afterward, I went to several hospitals to confirm, and it turns out the original doctor at Havencrest Prime gave her an inadequate dosage on purpose, deliberately dragging out her illness. Even the supposed specialist there was useless-he botched the surgery and cost my wife and child their lives. She could have been saved. Havencrest, give me my wife back!"

    "Avoid NeoGen Nexus Hospital. My son fell into aa, and their doctors ordered a mountain of tests. Once the results came back, they just sent him home with some pills and told us to rest. That dy nearly killed him. Then they said he needed surgery after all. Now, after the operation, he''s still in the ICU. Those butchers at NeoGen Nexus told me

    whether he wakes up or not

    ''depends on fate.'' Depends on fate? No, it depends on your damn ipetence."

    "These hospitals have no conscience. All they do is order endless tests, never actually treating the illness. The moment they step into the OR, their ipetence is in for all to see."

    "I caught the flu a few days ago¡ªmy symptoms were mild, and I should''ve recovered with just a few days of medicine. But those hacks at the hospital deliberately prescribed a weak dose. After days with no improvement, I figured something was up and went to a few other hospitals. Only needed three days of proper medication before I was almost fully recovered."

    "These hospitals are truly heartless. They prey on the sick, only content when our conditions worsen enough to justify expensive surgeries. All they care about is raking in those huge surgical fees."

    "My advice? If you catch the flu, go straight to Crestwood Medical Research Center. Every single specialist there is professional andpassionate-they actually treat patients with respect. There''s even a charitable program for those struggling financially. Most importantly, the doctors there are real experts. As far as I know, not a single patient treated by their team has died."

    "Absolutely. I''m all for Crestwood Medical. When my dad caught the flu, he was vomiting, had diarrhea, and fell unconscious. Crestwood Medical brought him back. Now he''s up every day, running around, doing sports in the park-healthier than ever."

 Chapter 574

    At that moment, outside the entrance of NeoGen Nexus Hospital-

    A man was arguing heatedly with a group of doctors at the ICU doors. Fury was written all over his face, and he''d smashed just about anything in reach. The medical staff tried, one after another, to calm him down.

    "Sir, please, don''t get so worked up. There''s still a chance your son might recover."

    "That''s right, sir. Breaking things won''t help anyone. Your son is still in the ICU- what you I need most right now is to stay calm and wait patiently."

    Park Atkinson was usually the picture ofposure, but the cluster of doctors had pushed him past his breaking point. The thought of his son lying helpless in intensive care made his heart ache so badly he could hardly breathe. He would''ve dly wrung the necks of every doctor in sight.

    Pointing a trembling finger at two of them, Park shouted, "Are you even listening to yourselves? If your kid was lying in there, would you be calm?"

    "Calm? Don''t tell me to calm down! If anything happens to my son today, I swear to God you''ll all pay for it."

    He sounded so furious that the crowd of nurses and orderlies watching from the hallway flinched, half-expecting him to throw a punch at any moment.

    One of the doctors attempted to reason with him, voice barely above a whisper. "Mr. Atkinson, your son''s unresponsiveness after surgery is rted to his heart condition. You can''t put all the me on us."

    Park red daggers at the doctor. "Didn''t I tell you from the start? I told you he had arrhythmia. But you you said it was nothing, that there''d be noplications. And now my son''s been unconscious in the ICU all morning!"

    The doctor tried to get another word in, but Park cut him off with a barrage of insults. "Useless hacks-how did any of you even get your medical degrees? With doctors like you around, this hospital''s doomed."

    He was still in the middle of his tirade when his phone rang. Park grabbed it without hesitation.

    "Chairman, I''ve managed to get an appointment at Crestwood Medical Research Center," his assistant said, a note of relief in her voice.

    A flicker of hope crossed Park''s face. "Wait there. I''m bringing my son over right now."

    He hung up and turned a cold stare on the doctors. "Idiots. I''m taking my son to the Medical Research Center."

    The lead doctor nched. That

    couldn''t happen-if the Research Center managed to save the boy, it would ruin their hospital''s

    reputation. The director would have their heads.

    He spread his arms, blocking the way. "Mr. Atkinson, your son is still in critical condition. If something happens on the way, our hospital can''t take responsibility-"

    Park let out a bitterugh. "Critical? If my son stays here another minute, that''s what''s truly dangerous."

    "Out of my way." Without another word, he kicked the doctor aside and stormed into the ICU, scooping his son into his arms.

    Half an hourter, Park arrived at

    Crestwood Medical Research

    Center, son in tow. Their

    appointment waster in the

    afternoon, so Park could do nothing but sit in the waiting area, anxiously watching the numbers tick by. C¨®ntent

    Even though it meant waiting, just knowing his son had a chance at the Research Center brought Park a small measure offort.

    As father and son waited, Citrine strode by with a group of doctors in white coats, all deep in conversation and looking grave.

    "President Carmichael?"

    For a second, Park thought his eyes were ying tricks on him. He stood up for a better look, then blinked in surprise. It really was Citrine. "What''s she doing here?"

 Chapter 575

    The nurse nearby had caught the tail end of Park''s conversation, and she looked at him in surprise. "Wait, you know our director?"

    Park hesitated, ncing in the direction Citrine had gone, and ventured, "Your director? You mean Citrine Carmichael-President Carmichael?"

    The nurse nodded. "That''s right."

    Park''s eyes widened in disbelief. "Did I hear that right? You''re saying she''s the director of your research center?"

    Another nod from the nurse. "Yep, that''s her."

    She grinned. "Pretty impressive, isn''t she? Beautiful and tough as nails."

    Park was still reeling, but managed a dazed nod.

    The nurse''s curiosity perked up. "So, you already knew herst name was Carmichael. Are you two acquaintances?"

    Park gave a weakugh, nodding again. "Who doesn''t know her? Chairwoman of CICI Group, the rising star of Crestwood-her reputation precedes her."

    The nurse beamed with pride. "That''s our director for you-she''s famous for a reason." Every word radiated admiration for her boss.

    Park nced at the nurse, his confusion mounting. "Do you have any idea what President Carmichael was doing just now, heading off with that group?"

    The nurse answered without missing a beat, "She''s performing surgery on a flu patient. The patient''s got severe underlying conditions, and none of the other specialists dared attempt it, so our director had to take the lead herself."

    Park felt like he''d stumbled across something extraordinary. He stared at the nurse in disbelief. "Your director is a surgeon?"

    ????

    "She''s not just a surgeon-she''s a top specialist. Every operation she''s performed has been aplete sess. You probably don''t know this, but the breakthrough flu medication, the whole treatment protocol, and the surgical procedures-they''re all her

    research."

    The nurse''s face was aglow with pride, almost like a devoted fan speaking of a hero.

    "She''s... not just an outstanding businesswoman, but also a brilliant scientist and doctor," Park murmured, stunned yet oddly hopeful.

    fet

    But that hope shriveled almost instantly as he recalled his recent actions. His face drained of color. Just a short while ago, he''d led the board in withdrawing from Blood Rain, practically mming the door in President Carmichael''s face. There was no way she didn''t resent him for it-she probably wished she could trample him underfoot.

    Given what he''d done, Park''s unease only grew. He instantly gave up any thought of asking Citrine to operate on his son. People could be

    unpredictable; if he went toate

    for

    help and she refused-or worse, threw him out of the hospital-his son would lose his only hope.

    Resolving not to dwell on it, Park steadied himself and went back to waiting.

    Hourster, the surgery was over. Citrine emerged from the operating room with her team. After cleaning up, she was heading back to her private suite when she spotted a familiar figure slouched in the waiting area.

    Without hesitation, Citrine walked over.

    "President Atkinson, is everything alright?"

    Park had been sitting in the waiting room for hours. These past few days, between the constant worry and sleepless nights caring for his son, he hadn''t had a proper rest in days. He''d dozed off without realizing it, only to be startled awake by Citrine''s voice.

    He never imagined that the first thing he''d see upon opening his eyes would be Citrine herself. He jumped, nearly dropping the sleeping child in his arms. "Pr-President Carmichael," he stammered.

    Citrine gave him a once-over. "President Atkinson, what are you doing here? Are you unwell?"

 Chapter 576

    At first, Park had tried to avoid Citrine, afraid she might hold a grudge and take revenge on him. But now that she''d spotted him, it was toote to hide or lie. He could only speak the truth.

    "It wasn''t me. It''s my son," he admitted.

    Citrine nced at the little boy in Park''s arms and asked gently, "Is it the flu?"

    Park nodded, his expression bitter. "Yes."

    "My son''s had a heart arrhythmia since he was very young. The first time he caught the flu, I took him to NeoGen Nexus Hospital. The doctor there prescribed only a minimal dose of medicine, and it dyed his treatment. When things got worse, they said he needed surgery. But the surgeon was ipetent-after the operation, my boy never woke up. He told me the oue was up to fate."

    Maybe it was something in Citrine''s calm, nonjudgmental tone, but Park found himself letting down his guard. He couldn''t help but share more about his son''s condition.

    Citrine''s brow creased thoughtfully. She reached out and felt the boy''s forehead, then asked politely, "Mr. Atkinson, would you mind if I took a look at your son''s surgical incision?"

    Park remembered what the nurse had told him and felt a surge of hope. "Of course! Please, go ahead." Carefully, he lifted his son''s shirt.

    Citrine checked the boy''s eyes, took his pulse, and then asked Park a few follow- up questions.

    As he answered, Citrine''s frown gradually faded. Finally, she smiled reassuringly. "Don''t worry. Your son''s condition isn''t as serious as it seems. We''ll do a minor procedure in a bit, and he''ll be just fine."

    Park''s eyes widened in disbelief. "President Carmichael... Are you serious?"

    Citrine''s smile was warm and confident. "Absolutely."

    With her words, most of the anxiety gripping Park''s heart melted away.

    He looked at Citrine with genuine gratitude. "Thank you, President Carmichael. Thank you so much for telling me this."

    It never urred to him that President Carmichael-who had every reason to bear a grudge after he''d left Blood Rain-would not only forgive him, but even help him in his darkest moment. Park was at a loss for words.

    Citrine, however, seemed entirely unbothered by the past. She replied mildly, ¡°It''s nothing. I didn''t do anything special."

    Her magnanimity andck of resentment only deepened Park''s feelings of guilt.

    After a moment''s silence, he blurted out an apology. "I''m sorry, President Carmichael. I betrayed you before. I was weak and cowardly-I left Blood Rain because I was scared."

    "It''s not your fault." Citrine was surprised he brought it up; in truth, she''d never held it against him. In her eyes, Park and the other executives who''d left Blood Rain simply been looking out for their families. Who could me them for that?

    Park stared at her, stunned. "President Carmichael, after what I did... you don''t me me? You don''t resent me?"

    Citrine smiled. ¡°You quit Blood Rain for your family. That only shows you''re a loyal and devoted person. Why would I hold that against you?"

    She grinned, teasing, "Or do you think I''m the kind of person who holds grudges over everything?"

    Park was taken aback, scrambling to exin, "No, not at all! I never thought that. You''ve always been... a good person."

    He spoke so quickly he nearly tripped over his own tongue.

    He''d always known Citrine as the prodigy who''d founded CICI Group at just eighteen¡ªa born businesswoman. But now, Park realized there was so much more to her.

    Beneath that genius exterior was someone with deep kindness, open- mindedness, and a rare capacity for forgiveness.

 Chapter 577

    Citrine had no surgeries scheduled that afternoon, so she stayed in her suite to rest.

    That was when Park showed up unexpectedly, catching her a bit off guard.

    "Mr. Atkinson?" she asked, surprised.

    For a moment, Citrine wondered if something had gone wrong with his son''s operation, and her brow furrowed slightly as she prepared to ask. But before she could, Park spoke up, his face filled with anticipation.

    "President Carmichael, I came to ask if there''s any chance The Atkinson Group could rejoin Blood Rain?"

    Citrine was taken aback for a split second, but quickly recovered, offering him a warm smile. "Of course."

    She was, after all, a businesswoman. Blood Rain was her brainchild-no matter how many people left, she''d never once thought of giving it up.

    Park had originally withdrawn from Blood Rain out of fear that the Mirage Cay crowd would target his family. Now, after much consideration, he''de to the decision to return.

    President Carmichael hadn''t held his departure against him and had even saved his son''s life. The Atkinsons owed her a debt they could never repay. If, after all that, he still insisted on staying away from Blood Rain, it would be the height of ingratitude.

    That evening, Park shared the news of his return to Blood Rain with friends in the inner circle.

    Park was well-connected in Crestwood, a respected figure among his peers. He''d always been something of a ringleader, so when he announced his decision, those who''d left Blood Rain-already feeling guilty over it-spent the night wrestling with their consciences. By morning, a few had made up their minds and returned to apologize to Citrine, asking to be epted back into Blood Rain.

    Recently, a string of hospitals hadnded themselves in scandal, used of cutting corners for profit and causing medical mishaps. The situation had blown up, and now, with a nasty flu making the rounds, patients were steering clear of those ces, opting instead to queue up at the research center for care they could trust.

    Suddenly, the entire center was flooded with patients, and the team of specialists was run ragged.

    One night, after a relentless day, Citrine had just copsed into bed when a knock sounded at her door.

    Frowning, she opened it to find a nurse, breathless and anxious.

    "What''s wrong?" Citrine asked, her tone calm but cool.

    "President Carmichael, we have a situation," the nurse blurted.

    "Someone is causing a scene at the

    front desk. He''s some bl. ne

    insisting that only the best surgeon in the hospital operates on his girlfriend. The director told him

    that''s you, and now he''s demanding you perform the surgery yourself-or else he''ll trash the entire research center."

    Remembering the man''s threatening tone, the nurse hesitated before adding, "He seems like someone powerful... Maybe you should go take a look?"

    Citrine nodded, herposure unshaken. "Alright. I''ll get changed and be right there."

    Once she''d changed, she headed straight for the hospital lobby. As she approached, a familiar male voice rang out, dripping with menace.

    "Get your director out here now! If you dy Jete''s treatment, I swear I''ll make this ce pay."

    The hospital director was visibly angry, his tone chilly. "Our president isn''t at your beck and call. I don''t care who you are¡ªeven if you were the king himself, we''re not afraid of you."

    Theo, face dark with irritation, snapped, "Fine. If you won''t bring her out, I''ll just wreck this whole ce."

    He turned to the men in ck suits behind him¡ªhis bodyguards¡ªand barked, "Tear it all down."

    Of course, it was those two-what a pair. Like bloodhounds sniffing each other out, tangled together in theirst e and still at it in this one. A

    perfect match, really.

    Just as Theo''s bodyguards were about to start smashing things, Citrine''s voice

    cut through the chaos, icy andmanding.

    "I''d like to see anyone try."

    Every eye in the lobby turned to her at once.

 Chapter 578

    "Citrine Carmichael? What are you doing here?"

    Theo stared at Citrine, surprise flickering across his face.

    The moment she appeared, the director and everyone around her straightened and bowed respectfully. "Madam Chair."

    Theo shot her a startled look. "Chairwoman?"

    The director nced at Theo with a smug little smile. "That''s right. She''s the head of our research center."

    Theo''s eyes widened in disbelief.

    Chairwoman of CICI Group. Head of Crestwood Medical Research Center. Bestselling author. Just how many hidden identities did Citrine Carmichael have?

    She was only eighteen-an age when most people were still fumbling through life, clueless and naive-yet she''d already achieved things most could only dream of. Any one of her titles would be impressive enough on its own, but all together, it was downright shocking.

    Before Theo could fully recover, Citrine gave him and the unconscious Jete in his arms a frosty nce. Her voice was sharp and cold as steel. "So it''s Mr. Glenwood and..."

    Citrine paused deliberately, then smiled, her tone dripping with mockery. "The rapist''s daughter."

    She raised an eyebrow. "Does President Glenwood know you''re here to smash up our research center?"

    Theo''s face darkened in an instant.

    He red at Citrine, voice full of venom. "Trying to use my father to scare me? You really think I''d back down?"

    Citrine let out a short, bitingugh. "Of course not. Why would Mr. Glenwood be afraid? People without brains never are. Ignorance is bliss, after all."

    Theo stared at her, incredulous and furious. "Who are you calling brainless, Citrine Carmichael? Where do you get off?"

    She scoffed. "You, obviously. Or are you just hard of hearing?"

    Theo shot her a murderous look, struggling to keep her temper in check. "You''re quick with words, I''ll give you that. But I''m not going to stoop to your level."

    He nced down at the unconscious girl in his arms, anxiety flickering in his eyes. "Since you''re the chairwoman of Crestwood Medical Research, then help Jete. Now."

    "Help her?" Citrine blinked, almost amused. For a second, she wondered if she''d misheard.

    Was Theo out of his mind? What made him think she''d lift a finger to help Jete?

    If anything, she''d prefer Jete dead than alive. No way would she bother to save her.

    When Citrine made no move to help, Theo''s face grew even darker.

    He jabbed a finger at her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You''re

    a doctor. It''s your duty to save people."

    "Duty? Are you serious?" Citrine snorted. "What is this, the Dark Ages? Trying to guilt-trip me with some outdated moral code? Please."

    Theo clenched his jaw, voice

    shaking with anger. "You''re letting personal grudges get in the way of

    saving a life. Aren''t you afraid people

    will say you have no medical ethics?¡±

    Citrine''s lips curled into a cold smile. She actuallyughed. "Medical ethics? And

    what''s that supposed to mean?"

    Her eyes hardened. "Theo, you

    should have known before you came

    here-at our research center, we

    save lives when we feel like it. If we

    want to help, we help. If not, we don''t. If you''re trying to guilt-trip us, save your breath. Nobody here, including me, is buying it."

    Theo could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Citrine Carmichael, how can you

    be so cruel? You''re a doctor. Can you really just stand there and watch a patient

    die?"

    Citrine nced at the unconscious Jete and rolled her eyes dramatically. "If she dies, she dies. What''s that got to do with me?"

    "In fact, I''d be thrilled if she did. Just

    not here if she dies in our center, we''d have to deal with her body. send her off to the crematorium... Just thinking about it makes me sick."

 Chapter 579

    Theo clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. His voice was low and tense. "Citrine Carmichael, what did you just say?"

    Citrine, utterly unimpressed, repeated herself as if Theo were hard of hearing. "I said, keep her far away from here. I don''t want her dying in our research center. She''s filthy."

    Furious as he was, Theo held his tongue. Citrine was the most brilliant doctor in the research center he needed her help.

    After a long, heavy silence, Theo tried a different approach. "Citrine Carmichael, I''m not asking you to save her for nothing. If you can bring her back, I''ll pay you eight million dors. What do you say?"

    Eight million was a massive sum. Theo hoped that would be enough for Citrine to relent.

    Citrine snorted. "Eight million. How generous of you, Mr. Glenwood."

    Thinking she was dissatisfied, Theo upped the ante. "Ten million, then."

    Citrine said nothing, just stared at him with a look that was almost amused, though a hint of mockery lingered in her eyes.

    Theo gritted his teeth. "Twenty million."

    Still, Citrine remained silent.

    "Fifty million," he pressed.

    Citrine''s expression never changed. Her indifference was maddening, and Theo''s patience began to fray. "Just tell me. How much do you want?"

    To Theo, there was nothing in the world that couldn''t be solved with enough money. Citrine was a pragmatist-she''d fold eventually. He fixed his gaze on her, waiting for her to name her price.

    But Citrine didn''t even blink. The look she gave him was one you''d give an idiot.

    "You could hand me the entire Glenwood fortune, and I still wouldn''t save Jete," she said coldly. "She''s the daughter of a rapist. Disgusting."

    She nced at Jete with open contempt.

    Theo''s brow furrowed; hisposure finally snapped. He shouted across the lobby, his voice echoing off the marble. "Everyone,e see this! This is the kind of doctor we have at the research center-someone who refuses to save a dying girl. She has no sense of ethics!"

    Patients waiting in the lobby turned to look, curiosity piqued.

    Theo pressed on, voice ringing with outrage. "It''s a doctor''s duty to save lives! Since when do doctors get to turn patients away?"

    The crowd grew. As people learned the details, some began to voice their support for Theo.

    "He''s right! Doctors are supposed to help people. That poor girl''s at death''s door, and these doctors just stand by. How heartless can you get?"

    "Yes, exactly! What kind of doctor refuses to treat a patient?"

    A few pointed fingers at Citrine and the other doctors in white coats. "You wear that uniform¡ªyou should live up to it. Don''t make us lose respect for you."

    "Yeah, you''re supposed to treat all patients equally!"

    Listening to the growing wave of criticism from patients and their families, Citrine almostughed out loud from sheer exasperation.

    "Idiots," she muttered, sweeping a cold gaze over the crowd, disappointment darkening her eyes.

    She picked out the ones who''d spoken up and addressed them, enunciating every word. "Tell me, what exactly has the Medical Research Center done wrong? Was it a mistake to develop the new flu treatment? Was it wrong to set up a fund for patients in need? Or was it wrong to open our doors to flu patients on such arge scale?"

    The people who''d just been so vocal suddenly fell silent, unable toe up with a

    reply. One by one, their voices faded away.

    Citrine''s smile was icy as she

    continued, "Let''s get something straight: we''re a research center. We

    do medical research-not a hospital that exists solely to treat patients. We took in flu patients because nobody here could stand to watch people die by the dozens? That was out ofpassion, not obligation.¡±

    "During the outbreak, our team has worked twelve-hour days, no breaks, grabbing

    quick bites of food just so we could save a few more lives. Who here even

    realizes what we''ve sacrificed?"

    "To speed up the end of the

    outbreak and get patients the care they need, we''ve partnered with hospitals across the city. We''ve given@verything we can, never asking for thanks. But now, just because of a few words from a stranger, you turn on us-pointing fingers, hurling usations. Do you not see you''re cutting off your own lifeline?"

 Chapter 580

    Citrine let out a scornfulugh. "You lot are the kind who''ll bite the hand that feeds you, then smash your tes and curse your mothers. Have you no conscience at all?"

    She swept a cold gaze across the crowd. "If you''re so ungrateful, maybe Crestwood Medical should just shut down the flu clinic altogether."

    Her words snapped everyone back to their senses. The few who''d spoken up for Theo only moments ago turned pale, realizing just how out of line their earlierments had been.

    Of course. When the flu outbreak first began, it was the research center that worked around the clock to develop the antiviral treatment. The surgical procedures and therapies they used had alle from Crestwood''s team. Without the center, who knows how many would have died by now?

    Crestwood Medical Research Center was never obligated to open a clinic-they were scientists, not family doctors. Theyunched the flu clinic only to help the sick, a task far beyond their research mandate. And yet, that''s exactly what they chose to do.

    God, how heartless did they have to be to say what they''d just said?

    Crestwood had saved countless lives. The experts there had worked themselves to exhaustion, seeing patients day and night, performing surgeries without rest. And yet, at the first sign of trouble, these people had stabbed the most selfless institution in the back-all for the sake of a stranger.

    Nowadays, most research centers think themselves above the public, obsessed only with high-profit projects and prestige. How many would ever stoop to open their doors to regr people, sacrificing lucrative work for the sake of themunity? Crestwood was a rare exception¡ªa ce that genuinely cared.

    One patient broke down, his voice trembling. "We''re so sorry. We never should''ve said those things. Crestwood has always cared for people like us. We were out of line."

    Another patient dropped to his knees before Citrine. "Please, don''t be angry. We just weren''t thinking straight. You can''t close the flu clinic-please."

    Someone else spoke up, voice thick with regret. "I remember when my dad was treated here. The doctor was so exhausted he fainted in the middle of his shift. The staff here truly care. We never should have doubted you."

    "I''m sorry. I apologize to everyone. I spoke without thinking, but I see now how wrong I was."

    "Please, whatever you do, don''t shut down the clinic. There are too many hospitals out there that only care about money, letting patients suffer just to turn a profit. Crestwood is the only ce left with any integrity. Without you, the flu will just keep iming more lives."

    One after another, patients and their families began apologizing to the staff, their earlier anger reced with shame.

    Citrine watched their change in attitude with a frosty smile. She pointed at Theo.

    "We''ve never been unreasonable. The me for what just happened lies entirely with this man."

    She turned to the crowd, voice

    steady. "He stormed in here, treating

    our staff with nothing but hostility

    He refused to check in, threatened

    to wreck the ce. I think any

    §Ö§Þ

    hospital would have the right to

    refuse someone behaving like that, wouldn''t you agree?"

    Then she nced at the girl in

    1.n

    Theo''s arms, her lips curling in a cold, mocking smile. "And let''s not forget-he''s trying to save the daughter of that infamous criminal everyone was talking about online not long ago. Frankly, with a family like that, why should we waste our resources on people who have no respect for decency?"

    At her words, the mood in the room shifted. Everyone''s eyes fell on Theo and the pale girl he held.

    "Seriously? Hees in here making a scene and then mes the center for not helping him?"

    "People like that get what they deserve. Why should Crestwood help someone so rude?"

    "And that girl-she''s the daughter of a rapist, isn''t she? The apple doesn''t fall far from the tree. People like that shouldn''t be saved."

    "Just thinking about her makes my skin crawl. Why waste medical resources on the likes of them?"

    "Dick''s daughter, huh? She''s probably just as rotten as her father."

    "That whole family is filthy. I remember reading about them online-my whole family was disgusted."

 Chapter 581

    Hearing Citrine call her "the rapist''s daughter" again and again, Theo''s face turned an ugly shade. He held Jete tighter, his fingers pressing so hard they nearly dug into her skin.

    If Jete hadn''t been unconscious, she probably would have cried out in pain.

    Theo felt a surge of anger burning in his chest. He clenched his jaw, shot a furious re at the bodyguard behind him, and growled, "Go register her. Now."

    The bodyguard was about to get up when a crisp, clear voice cut through the tension.

    "Nathanael, contact the authorities. From this moment on, our research center will no longer ept the Glenwoods or the rapist''s daughter."

    Citrine smiled coldly and added, "And put their names on the hospital''s cklist."

    Crestwood Medical Research Center held a prestigious reputation not only in the world of medicine but in the city of Crestwood itself. Citrine''s words made her stance unmistakably clear: the research center would have nothing more to do with the Glenwoods or Jete.

    Nathanael, who had never liked Theo, brightened at Citrine''s order and answered with conviction, "Understood."

    Theo''s bodyguard froze, torn between obeying Theo''smand and Citrine''s ban. He stood there, paralyzed with indecision.

    "Citrine Carmichael, what gives you the right to deny me medical treatment?" Theo''s voice trembled with rage, his re fixed on Citrine.

    Citrine''s expression never wavered.

    She looked at Theo and gave a slight, cold smile. "I''m the director of this center. That means I can refuse anyone I want, at any time."

    Her face hardened.

    She called out, "Security, escort these people out."

    The security guards stationed at the door immediately stepped forward, forming a barrier between Theo''s group and the rest of the hospital.

    "Sir, I''m going to have to ask you and your people to leave. If you don''t cooperate, we''ll have to remove you by force."

    Theo''s pride was wounded beyond measure. Born the only son of the Glenwood family, the most powerful family in Crestwood, he was used to being treated like royalty. Every humiliation he''d ever suffered hade at Citrine''s hands.

    He gritted his teeth. "Fine. You''ll regret this, Citrine Carmichael."

    Citrine didn''t flinch. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. "Get out."

    In the following days, stories about hospitals dying patients'' treatment to chase profits exploded online. It wasn''t long before Citrine saw these reports too.

    That very day, she ordered a thorough investigation into the hospitals named in the reports and, one by one, canceled all partnerships with them.

    Next, she had her teampile a public "red and ck list" of hospitals-trustworthy and not and posted it on the center''s website. Citrine also shared the list ofher own video channel.

    She went further: creating a detailed chart of flu symptoms in early and mid-stages, outlining proper treatments, what over-the-counter medicines to buy at each stage, and when to seek medical attention at a hospital.

    Once finished, Citrine posted the information on her channel and had the research center''s staff share it on the official site.

    Thanks to these efforts, countless flu patients learned to treat themselves at home, sparing the hospitals from being overwhelmed and helping families avoid unnecessary trips.

    Weekend.

    Early Saturday morning, Citrine''s phone buzzed with a call from Raymond. On the other end, Weston and Manley took turns urging her toe home.

    Citrine checked her schedule, saw she was free for the next two days, and finally agreed.

 Chapter 582

    Ever since school let out for the holidays, she''d been living in the Carmichaels'' Crestwood vi. After so much time, going back there had started to feel routine.

    By the time Citrine returned that evening, darkness had already settled over most of the sky. She wondered if everyone had already gone to bed.

    Not wanting to wake anyone, Citrine tiptoed to the front door and quietly entered the security code.

    She eased the door open. The vi was pitch ck, not a single light on.

    Assuming everyone had called it a night, Citrine let out a silent sigh of relief and reached for the light switch. But before she could turn it on, a burst of cheerful music filled the air. One by one, soft lights flickered on around the grand hall.

    Gone was the usual minimalist decor. The whole house was strung with twinkling lights and fresh flowers, pale pinks everywhere. Wisps of white fog curled across the floor, making the vi look more like a fairytale castle, dreamy and unreal.

    At that moment, Citrine spotted a gigantic music box spinning toward her, topped with an enormous bouquet of roses.

    Were those real or fake?

    She''d never seen roses sorge. Eyes wide, she stepped closer, reaching out to touch them.

    Suddenly, with a loud pop, the bouquet burst open. Red roses began leaping out, showering the room in a continuous cascade-a veritable rainstorm of blooms.

    As Citrine approached, she realized that each rose was carefully folded from crimson bills.

    A money shower, masquerading as a rain of roses.

    Tacky? Maybe. But she loved it.

    Just as she was puzzling over what special day it could be, the music swelled, and several people popped out from inside the enormous rose.

    "Surprise!"

    "Happy birthday, Citrine!"

    There wasn''t room for everyone in the giant flower, so the rest of them emerged from every corner of the vi.

    Looking at all the faces, it finally dawned on Citrine: it was her birthday.

    Except forst year, she''d hardly celebrated her birthday before.

    never allowed herself to expect

    much from the day, and overtime, she''d simply forgotten it.

    Amelia Lawson, Travis, Sylvan, Carney, Springer, Carlotta-her

    al

    closest friends were all here. Even her three college roommates had shown up.

    Ingrid, Jane, and Lisa could hardly believe they''d been invited; they felt like they''d won the lottery.

    Coming from ordinary families and with nothing extraordinary in their resumes, they''d never dreamed

    they''d be attending the birthday party of the CICI Group''s

    chairwoman. It was the kindel

    thing

    they''d boast about for the rest of their lives.

    "Happy birthday, Citrine!" the three chimed in, grinning from ear to ear.

    ¡°Thank you, guys." Citrine was touched-she''d never imagined anyone would go to such lengths for her neenth birthday.

    Ingrid grinned. "No, thank *you*! We should be thanking you for inviting us!"

    Then Ingrid pulled out her phone, sidling up to Citrine. "Citrine, can I get a picture with you for my feed?"

    Citrine blinked in surprise, then nodded. "Of course."

    Ingrid went wild with her phone, snapping shot after shot-one was more like thirty.

    When she was finally satisfied, Ingrid scrolled through the photos, nodding approvingly. "Look at you, Citrine. Total knockout."

    She quickly edited a post, arranging her and Citrine''s best pictures in a coge.

    Caption: Me and my superstar friend. (Mom, look! Even Ingrid''s moving up in the world!)

 Chapter 583

    Everyone was left speechless by Ingrid''s bold move.

    After seeing Ingrid take so many selfies with Citrine, Jane and Lisa exchanged a nce, unwilling to be outdone. "Citrine, we want a picture with you too!" they

    chimed in, grinning.

    The two of them rushed over, nking Citrine on either side as they snapped their own set of photos.

    Once everyone had their turn, Raymond stepped forward to corral the group toward the backyard. "All of you are my daughter''s friends just rx and have fun. The Carmichael family isn''t big on formalities."

    Ingrid, ever the social butterfly, shed him a bright smile. "Don''t worry, Mr. Carmichael. We n on making ourselves right at home."

    Raymond chuckled and handed Citrine the knife to start cutting the cake.

    Not wanting the adults to overshadow the teens and make them feel awkward, Raymond arranged for Weston and the rest of the parents to y cards in the living room after cake. He made a point of leaving the younger crowd to their own devices.

    He couldn''t help thinking about how busy Citrine had been at the hospitaltely. She was only eighteen, an age meant for carefree fun, but his precious daughter had thrown herself into work without a second thought. As a father, his heart ached for her.

    Out in the garden, Citrine and her friends were gathered around the grill. Travis, along with Sylvan and the other guys, had taken it upon themselves to handle all the skewers and grilling, happily serving the girls, who didn''t have to lift a finger- just wait and eat.

    Amelia, who hadn''t seen Citrine in ages, had misty eyes from the moment Citrine walked in. Her biggest regret in life was choosing to attend Havencrest University. If only she''d applied to Crestwood, she could have stayed by Citrine''s side.

    Watching Citrine and Ingrid joke around so familiarly, Amelia felt a pang of jealousy. She knew she should be happy that Citrine was making new friends, but instead, seeing them so close made her chest tighten.

    She nced at Ingrid sitting across from her, then deliberately scooted closer to Citrine, looping her arm through Citrine''s and leaning in. "Citrine I''ve missed you so much. If I''d known, I would''ve gone to Crestwood too-then I''d be the one at your side."

    Citrine smiled and squeezed Amelia''s hand affectionately. ¡°I''ve missed you, too. But hey, once you graduate, you could always move to Crestwood. Then we could see each other all the time."

    Amelia nodded eagerly, her resolve solidifying. She already knew that, no matter where she was, she''d follow Citrine. Her parents had never cared much for her-Citrine was the only person in the world she truly cared about.

    Just as they were chatting, Travis called out, "Citrine! Come try the skewers!"

    "Amy, I''ll be right back," Citrine said softly to Amelia, then crossed thewn to join Travis and the boys.

    Now, only Amelia, Carlotta, and Ingrid were left on the bench.

    Amelia had no intention of making small talk. She picked up her phone and started scrolling through videos.

    Ingrid and her friends, seeing Amelia for the first time, stared at her for a good while before suddenly gasping in recognition. "Wait-aren''t you the lead in Innocent? Diana, right?" Ingrid''s voice was tinged with awe.

    Amelia looked up at her, her gaze cool and reserved, so different from the warmth

    she showed Citrine. It was the look you''d give a stranger.

    Ingrid and her friends assumed it was just because Amelia didn''t know them, and thought nothing of it. Ingrid beamed at her. "You''re amazing. Your acting is incredible¡ªI''m such a fan."

 Chapter 584

    Amelia didn''t look at her. Instead, at the sound of her words, she turned her head

    to nce at Citrine, who was sitting not far away next to Travis,ughing as she nibbled at a skewer. There was a trace of admiration in her eyes.

    "It''s Citrine. My family''s nothing special, and if it weren''t for her, I never would havended the role of Diana or gotten this far. Everything I have today, I owe to Citrine. She''s the one who lifted me up when I needed it most, who gave me the chance to soar."

    "If it weren''t for her, I wouldn''t be who I am now. She''s my best friend, and honestly, she saved me when I was at my lowest."

    When Citrine''s name came up, Ingrid''s face beamed with pride. She smiled and said, ¡°Citrine''s an incredible person. And you, being her best friend, are just as impressive. Both of you are truly remarkable."

    "Her best friend?" Ingrid paused, turning the words over.

    "Absolutely. Even if she''s never said it out loud, it''s not hard to tell. She talks about you all the time in our dorm-never mentions anyone else, just you. And honestly, she treats you differently."

    Amelia''s eyes sparkled. "How is it different?"

    "She''s not someone who overshares, but she always wants to share her life with you. I hardly ever hear her talk about anyone else, but youe up all the time. And every time, she starts with, ''My superstar friend''-you should see how proud she looks."

    Hearing Ingrid''s words, Amelia was taken aback. Suddenly, all those little moments she''d brushed aside came rushing back with perfect rity.

    And Citrine''s different treatment of her didn''t stop there.

    There were the stacks of coveted scripts Citrine had delivered to her personally, the new season''s clothes and handbags that arrived like clockwork every quarter, thetest tech gadgets and beauty products from CICI Group.

    Whenever Citrine stumbled upon a beautiful view or a delicious meal, she''d snap a photo and share it with Amelia first.

    Even though they lived in different cities, went to different schools, the distance hadn''t driven them apart-if anything, they were in touch more than ever.

    Recalling what Ingrid had said earlier, Amelia finally epted it¡ªno more overthinking.

    She really was Citrine''s best friend.

    Maybe it was because they''d spent some time talking about this friend they shared, but soon enough, the group felt perfectly at ease with each other.

    Just then, Citrine called out, "Amy! Come on over-the skewers are ready!"

    Hearing Citrine call her by name, Amelia''s heart leapt with joy.

    See? She knew it. She really was Citrine''s number one.

    With a grin, she led the others over to join Citrine.

    Inside Carmichael Manor, the younger crowd gathered around, chatting and enjoying their food. The mood was light, easy, and full ofughter.

    But across the house, things weren''t nearly as cheerful for Raymond and the others.

    Raymond opened a door and found himself face-to-face with Hilda and a couple of herpanions.

    The pleasant look on Raymond''s face vanished instantly when he saw Hilda. His tone was curt. "What are you doing here?"

    It was obvious he wasn''t happy to

    see them

    Hilda offered an awkward

    smile trine''s birthday. We just

    "It''s

    her."

    wanted toe by and see t

    "Come in, then." In the end, since Hilda was Citrine''s birth mother, Raymond

    couldn''t exactly throw her out. He stepped aside and let them in.

    But unlike Raymond, the rest of the Carmichael family felt far less charitable.

    Citrine was the apple of everyone''s eye, their pride and joy. Ever since

    the truth came out about Sol

    birth mother, the Carmichaels couldn''t help but worry that Saunders family would take Citrine away from them. The entire

    household had been on edge for

    weeks, no one able to sleep soundly with that fear hanging over their heads.

 Chapter 585

    As soon as Hilda stepped into the Carmichael home, she couldn''t help but search the crowd for that one familiar face she longed to see.

    Raymond caught the look in her eyes right away. "Citrine''s out back, grilling with her friends."

    Hilda hesitated, asking softly, "Would it be alright if I joined them?"

    "Of course."

    With Raymond''s reassuring nod, Hilda led Monica and Wade toward the backyard.

    They had barely reached the patio when Hilda heard her daughter''sughter. "Big bro, that''s delicious! Make me another skewer!"

    Citrine sounded so rxed, so lighthearted-so different from how she usually acted around the adults. There was a spark in her eyes that Hilda hadn''t seen in a long time.

    Hilda nced at Travis with a tinge of envy.

    Travis was the quintessential doting big brother; when his sister asked for food, he beamed with pride and immediately set to grilling more meat for her.

    Monica and Wade watched the little scene unfold, both feeling a pang of jealousy. Weren''t they Citrine''s siblings too? And yet, somehow, Travis was the one she always turned to.

    Wade huffed, narrowing his eyes at Travis. "Why does he get to be the big brother she calls for? I''m her brother too, but Citrine''s never called me ''big bro'' even once." His voice was tinged with genuine hurt.

    "What''s so great about that guy anyway?" Wade muttered, ring at Travis. "It''s just some grilled meat-big deal. I can do that too."

    Determined to prove himself, Wade marched over to Travis, drawing surprised looks from everyone.

    Travis nced up. "What are you doing here?" Citrine was startled to see Wade, but then she spotted Hilda and Monica approaching from across the yard.

    "Happy birthday, Citrine." Hilda''s eyes shimmered as she greeted her daughter, her voice catching with emotion.

    "Happy neenth, Citrine!" Monica added, beaming.

    "We brought you something." Hilda handed Citrine a neatly wrapped present.

    Monica chimed in, "And this one''s from me."

    "Thank you," Citrine said politely, setting the gifts aside and gesturing for them to join her. ¡°Come on, sit down and have some barbecue with us."

    Hilda and Monica exchanged delighted nces and settled opposite Citrine, smiles lighting up their faces.

    Wade looked at his sister with uncharacteristic tenderness. "Of course I''m here for your birthday, Citrine. What kind of big brother

    would I be if I missed it?"

    ???

    He grinned. "Looks like you''re enjoying the food. Well, lucky for you, I happen to be pretty good at grilling myself. Let me make you something special."

    At the mention of "big brother," Travis''s expression soured.

    He muttered, "Who do you think you are? Citrine''s never called you her brother."

    "Shut it," Wade shot back, stung by the truth. He snatched the tongs from Travis''s hands.

    Travis raised an eyebrow. "Do you even know what you''re doing?"

    Wade ignored him, focusing on the grill. He tried to remember how his

    friends prepped meat atst summer''s pic, flipping the skewers and sprinkling on seasoning as if he were a pro.

    Hilda and Monica exchanged an amused nce, barely holding back theirughter at Wade''s antics.

    But as Wade''s grilling started to look halfway decent, Travis decided to let him have his moment.

    A few minutester, Wade proudly ted his skewers and set them in front of Citrine, his eyes full of hope. "Try one! I made these just for you."

    Citrine eyed the skewers¡ªat least they looked alright-and picked one up, giving it a tentative bite.

    The taste hit her like a shockwave. Citrine: #@ £¤ %&#%#&£¤#-words failed her.

    The vor was...indescribable.

    And yet Wade was watching her, expectant and eager.

    For a moment, Citrine genuinely didn''t know whether to swallow or spit out whatever it was she''d just bitten into.

 Chapter 586

    Noticing the odd look on Citrine''s face, Travis didn''t even hesitate-he strolled over, grabbed a skewer from the te, and popped it straight into his mouth. Instantly, his expression twisted in horror.

    "What the... What is this monstrosity? This is disgusting!"

    "Wade, did you seriously just dump every spice you could find into this?"

    Wade nodded sheepishly.

    "Ugh!" Travis couldn''t stand it for another second. He rushed to the trash can and spat out the entire mouthful.

    Was he some kind of masochist? Why did he have to be such a smartass and try Wade''s cooking? If someone offered him this horror show again, you''d have to kill him first-he''d never touch it. Just remembering the taste made his stomach churn. For the next several days, hepletely lost his appetite.

    Then he nced up and saw Citrine still chewing. His eyes went wide.

    He blurted out, panicked, "Citrine, spit it out! That stuff''s basically poison."

    Wade''s face fell. He hurried to grab a skewer himself and took a bite. Within a second, he was gagging and spitting it out too.

    No exaggeration-this stuff wasn''t fit for human consumption.

    Watching Citrine chew it for so long, Wade''s guilt nearly brought him to tears. "Citrine, you can''t eat that. Please, spit it out."

    Travis looked just as worried. "Seriously, Citrine, even a dog wouldn''t eat this."

    Citrine stared at the two of them, baffled by their reaction. Seeing how distraught they were, she hesitated, then finally spit out what little she had left in her mouth.

    Honestly, in herst life, she''d gone through some pretty rough times¡ªshe''d spent years never having enough to eat. So when it came to anything that wasn''t meat, she was never picky.

    Once she''d spit it out, Travis wasted no time pouring her a ss of water and handing it over. "Here, Citrine, rinse your mouth."

    He shot Wade a scathing look. "You really tried to feed Citrine something not even a dog would touch? If something happened to her, the Carmichael family would never let you live it down."

    Wade was mortified. He had no idea his barbecue would turn out so revolting. "I''m so sorry, Citrine."

    Citrine smiled, carefully choosing her words so she wouldn''t hurt his feelings. "It''s fine. You just went a little overboard with the spices. Next time, just use a little less."

    The moment she said that, Wade''s gloomy eyes instantly brightened. "I promise, never again."

    From then on, Wade didn''t dare y chef-he obediently took a seat.

    Thankfully Travis took over the grilling. And he was actually amazing at it. Everyone sat around nibbling on his perfectly grilled skewers,ughing and ying games without a care in the world.

    The night was filled withughter and warmth.

    When it was finally time to go, no one wanted the evening to end.

    Later, after everyone had left, Citrine went back to her room to open her presents.

    On top was a gift from the Saunders family.

    The first box was from Monica: a sparkling diamond bracelet.

    Next was Wade''s. Citrine unwrapped the box to find a car key nestled inside, along with a glossy photo of a race car. She recognized the mode instantly-an ultra-rare, limited edition. There was only one in the world.

    Everyone in the Crestwood elite circles knew the youngest Saunders, Wade, lived and breathed racing.

    This car was the dream of every ne

    racer@live, and the fact he''d given it to her said everything about how much thought he''d put into her gift.

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh, shaking her head at his extravagance.

    Then she reached for the third present.

    She paused for a moment when she saw the signature, but quickly started unwrapping it.

    Inside was something unexpected-a sealed envelope.

 Chapter 587

    Citrine pulled every document from the folder, scanning each one carefully.

    Inside, she found the C. Corp equity transfer agreement-eighty percent of thepany. If her guess was right, Hilda had just handed over everyst share she owned.

    Everyone in Crestwood''s elite circles knew Hilda''s reputation: a powerhouse, the only female CEO in town wielding real authority. She was relentless at work, the kind who put thepany''s interests above all else.

    For someone that ambitious and capable, wasn''t C. Corp the most important thing in her life? It was her life''s work-her pride, her blood, sweat, and tears.

    So why would she just give it all away? Citrine couldn''t make sense of it.

    Her gaze lingered on the bold letters of C. Corp at the top of the transfer agreement, her mind wandering.

    "For me...?"

    Could it really mean what she thought?

    She was about to slip the agreement back into the folder when she noticed another stack of papers tucked inside.

    Curious, Citrine pulled out the rest. There were deeds and gift letters for beachfront vis, plots ofnd on luxury resort inds-every single one worth a small fortune.

    She stuffed the documents back into the folder, but her heart wouldn''t settle.

    Hilda had just handed over her entire fortune, no strings attached. Wasn''t she afraid Citrine might just walk away and never look back?

    Maybe it was because she''d been burned too many times in her previous life- taken too many falls that Citrine now found it impossible to trust anyone easily, let alone bare her back to someone else.

    She was someone who never truly felt safe. Only enough money and enough power could give her any sense of security. Those things were her shield, her confidence-she could never imagine handing them all over to someone else.

    She knew, deep down, she could never do what Hilda had just done.

    Lately, the research center had been digging into hospitals and organizations that deliberately dyed flu patients'' treatment, using the opportunity to cash in on expensive surgeries-just as Citrine had instructed.

    The investigation uncovered that most of these clinics and hospitals were tied to the Glenwood family. Not only that, but the Glenwoods had set up a slew of pharmaceutical factories on the side, churning out counterfeit versions of the very real medications developed by their research center. When the center''s staff tested the Glenwoods'' fake drugs, they found nothing but in antibioticspletely useless.

    The Glenwood''s had opened more than a dozen of these shady factories, and even ran several online shops. Within days, the profits

    were staggering. In fact, their fake

    meds sat at the top of the sates charts on a major merce site.

    The day after her birthday, Citrine returned to the research center, where investigators brought her up to speed.

    Upon hearing the details, Citrine''s eyes darkened.

    The Glenwoods were filthy profiting off people''s pain without a shred of

    conscience.

    Disgust flickered in her expression.

    After a long silence, she turned to Nathanael with a cool smile. "Publish everything every ck-market factory, every online shop, every organization tied

    to these fake drug makers. Put it all out in the open."

    Then she added, "And transfer a billion from our ounts. We''ll need it for a full- scale media campaign."

    She let out a coldugh, voice steely. "It''s time to bring the Glenwood family down a notch."

    Nathanael hesitated for a moment. "Chairwoman, are you nning to go to war with the Glenwoods now?"

    Citrine nodded. "They''ve gotten away with too much for too long. The timing''s right. Let''s do it."

    "Yes, Director." Nathanael had long been sick of the Glenwoods'' antics. He nodded firmly.

    True to his reputation, Nathanael acted fast. By the end of the day, the Glenwoods'' scandals were stered all over social media.

 Chapter 588

    It was still flu season. Aside from hospitals, most businesses had shut down, and people were staying home, doing their best to avoid infection and limit going out.

    But after being cooped up for so long, tempers were fraying. People who already struggled with their mood grew more anxious and irritable. That''s when the news broke: the Glenwood family was used of manufacturing fake medicines, running corrupt hospitals, and raking in dirty money through various shady organizations.

    Online forums exploded.

    "They''ll stoop to anything for a buck! Don''t they fear karma?"

    "So this is Crestwood''s so-called ''First Family''? I bet their fortune was built on the backs of the vulnerable."

    "No wonder the meds I boughtst time didn''t work! Turns out they were counterfeit. Damn it! Is there anything the Glenwoods won''t do for money?"

    "My father took their fake pills and then had surgery at a Glenwood Group hospital. He didn''t make it. I always thought it was just his age, but now I know the truth. The Glenwoods are monsters-give me back my father!"

    "My wife died after taking those fake drugs and then going in for surgery at one of their hospitals-lost both her and our unborn child."

    "My daughter died from those counterfeit meds too."

    "I always thought, hey, Glenwood Group is a publicpany, their products must be safe. I''ve been buying their stuff for years. Who knew the owners were such scum?"

    "Glenwood Group is rotten to the core. From now on, I''m boycotting everything they and their partners sell."

    "The Glenwoods should all rot in hell. A bunch of heartless tycoons, getting rich off the blood of ordinary people. Companies like this deserve to go down in mes."

    ...

    The Glenwoods had crossed a line. Nationwide outrage swept the country.

    Furious, people flew in from all

    corners of the country, many arriving in Crestwood overnight. Instead of resting, they went straight to the Glenwood Mansion to vent their anger some hurled acid or sshed paint, others screamed insults through bullhorns. When that wasn''t enough, they even set up funeral wreaths at the mansion gates,plete with somber music fit for a memorial.

    No detail was spared-about the only thing missing was a funeral banquet. Since the Glenwoods wouldn''t provide one, the protestors took matters into their own hands.

    Soon, a hundred or so people had gathered outside the Glenwood estate. There''s strength in numbers. they ordered tables and catering online and set up a full spread fight there on the sidewalk, more than twenty tables in all.

    These protestors had journeyed from every corner of the country to confront the Glenwoods. Over shared food and outrage, strangers quickly became friends.

    For days, this became the norm. Each morning, the crowd would return, and once again the sounds of funeral dirges echoed across the estate.

    "Damn it, these lunatics are going to drive us insane," Scales muttered, covering his ears, while Talbot paced the room, equally furious and helpless.

    Talbot had tried repeatedly to suppress the scandal online, but this time the bacsh was spreading too fast. There was no stopping it.

    The front gates of Glenwood Mansion were smeared with the word "murderer," and every day someone would ssh fresh bloodacross the entrance. The

    Glenwoods were now virt heal

    prisoners in their own home, terrified of what the angry mob might do if they dared step outside.

    That''s when Talbot''s phone rang. It was his assistant.

    He answered at once, his voice tight with urgency. "Well? Did you find out who''s behind this?"

    The assistant''s reply was crisp and clear. "It''s President Carmichael. All the dirt,

    all the media spin-it''sing straight from her."

    "Citrine Carmichael?" Talbot blurted out in disbelief.

    "Yes, sir," the assistant confirmed.

 Chapter 589

    The Glenwood family scandal was snowballing, and soon after, irregrities in Glenwood Group''s finances were exposed. Their stock price plummeted, with shareholders moring to pull their investments.

    Chaos reigned within the Glenwood family. The stress proved too much for Scales, who suffered a heart attack and was rushed to the ICU.

    Watching thepany''s shares hit rock bottom, Talbot was on the verge of a breakdown.

    Word traveled fast. It wasn''t long before Theo saw the public outrage erupting online.

    That same evening, he took Jete back to the old family estate.

    The moment Talbot saw Jete, his expression hardened, brows knitting in displeasure. "Why did you bring her back here?"

    "Dad, you know as well as I do-Jete has nowhere else to go right now."

    Theo shot Jete a nce full of quiet sympathy.

    He hesitated, his tone darkening. "Besides, her health''s been fragile ever since she got sickst time."

    Just thinking about it made Theo''s blood boil. If Citrine hadn''t refused to let anyone treat Jete, she wouldn''t be dealing with lingering health issues now.

    After leaving the research center, Theo had whisked Jete straight to a Glenwood Group hospital. But not a single doctor dared operate on her. In the end, Theo had to personally select the most experienced surgeon to take her

    case.

    Even so, the damage was done. Her heart and kidneys already weak-had only gotten worse.

    Watching his son defend a woman used of assault, Talbot''s face twisted in barely concealed disgust.

    He shot Jete a contemptuous re. "I don''t care what tricks you used to seduce my son, but let me make one thing clear: as long as I''m alive, you will never step foot into this family."

    Theo might be blind to it, but Talbot had seen enough in his lifetime to read a person at a nce. This girl standing before him¡ªhe could see right through her.

    Dick hadnded in prison, and Aline

    §Ö§ä

    had fled the country with whatever money she could grab. By all ounts, Jete should have left with her mother, but instead she''dtched onto Theo. It was obvious what she was after.

    Talbot had always despised Dick, and felt no more affection for his daughter. He made his distaste in for all to see.

    Jete, privately seething with resentment, swallowed her anger. She knew she''d have to rely on the Glenwoods for her future, so she kept quiet.

    Seeing Jete''s humiliation, Theo frowned slightly. "Dad, don''t talk about Jete like that."

    "Hmph. Is someone like her really worth all this trouble?" Talbot was already at his wit''s end with thepany''s crisis; watching his son tangle himself up with a girl like Jete only made things worse.

    Theo couldn''t bring himself to argue with his father. Instead, he tried tofort

    Jete. "Don''t take my dad''s words to heart. He''s just upset."

    "I understand. I won''t let it get to me," Jete replied, barely managing to keep a smile in ce.

    Relieved to see herposure, Theo finally rxed.

    He took a seat beside Talbot, his expression turning serious. "Dad, there''s no way

    to suppress the news about the Glenwoods anymore. Have you figured out who''s behind all this?"

    Theo''s question was heavy with concern.

    Talbot''s face darkened. He mmed his hand down on the table, voice trembling with fury. ¡°Citrine Carmichael."

    "Citrine Carmichael?" Theo echoed in disbelief.

    Seeing Theo''s skepticism, Talbot nodded grimly. "It''s true. She leaked the dirt about our hospitals and the

    pharmaceutical nt, and the

    the

    one who reported our financials too.¡±

 Chapter 590

    "This stubborn girl won''t listen no matter what I do. I''ve tried again and again to show her goodwill, but nothing works. It''s like she holds a deep grudge against our family."

    Now, she was making her hostility public online, clearly out to ruin the Glenwood family''s reputation.

    Talbot just couldn''t wrap his head around it¡ªwhat on earth did she gain by opposing them?

    "Could it be because of what happenedst time?" Theo suddenly muttered, as if the thought had just struck him.

    "What happened?" Talbot turned to his son, puzzled.

    After a moment''s hesitation, Theo decided toe clean. "Dad, remember when Jete caught the flu? None of the hospitals under ourpany''s wing were any good, so I took her to Crestwood Medical Research Center. While we were there, I got into an argument with Citrine Carmichael. It got pretty ugly. Do you think... do you think this is all because of that?"

    "Crestwood Medical Research Center? How did you two even cross paths?" Talbot shot Theo a perplexed look.

    It dawned on Theo that his father had no idea. He exined earnestly, "Dad, you probably haven''t heard-Citrine is actually the mysterious owner behind Crestwood Medical Research Center."

    The words had barely left Theo''s lips when Talbot''s face went ck with shock.

    His grip on his phone slipped. It crashed to the floor with a loud tter, the screen shattering into pieces.

    "You... You''re telling me Citrine Carmichael is the chairwoman of Crestwood Medical?" Talbot stared at Theo in disbelief.

    Theo nodded.

    "Everyone at the hospital takes orders from her. Even Nathanael follows her every word."

    So, Citrine Carmichael was the mastermind behind Crestwood Medical.

    The CICI Group. Crestwood Medical. Talbot realized just how formidable that "stubborn girl" really was. If she truly became the Glenwood family''s enemy, their standing in Crestwood was as good as gone.

    Suddenly, Talbot felt drained. He fixed Theo with a piercing gaze. "Theo, I don''t care how you offended her. You need to go and apologize. If you make her any angrier, it''ll only spell disaster for the Glenwood family."

    Theo didn''t even hesitate before refusing. Dad, no way. That girl''s got a razor-sharp tongue. If I go, I''ll probably get humiliated in front of everyone."

    Oddly enough, once Talbot understood that Citrine''s hostility was because of Theo''s outburst, he felt a sliver of relief.

    If it was just anger, maybe there was a way to make amends-give her a chance

    to vent, and she''d probably call off her crusade.

    Talbot ced a heavy hand on

    Theo''s shoulder and said in a

    somber tone, "Theo, this scandal is

    causing us serious trouble. The Glenwood family is barely holding on as it is. If we go head-to-head with Citrine Carmichael, we''re finished. The only way out is to swallow our pride and make things right."

    Theo''s expression softened, and after a moment''s silence, he finally nodded. "Alright. I''ll do it."

    Without another word, Theo grabbed his keys and drove straight to the Medical Research Center.

    Meanwhile, Citrine was napping in her office when an assistant came to report Theo''s arrival. She didn''t even bother to open her eyes.

    "Tell him to get lost."

    A few minutester, the assistant ryed Citrine''s message to Theo, word for word.

    Theo''s face darkened. Several times he considered just leaving, but he knew he couldn''t.

    If Citrine refused to see him, he''d just have to wait.

    That day, Theo stood outside the research center from morning until nightfall, waiting in vain for Citrine to appear.

    He was just about to give up and head home when he finally caught sight of her. "Citrine Carmichael!" he called out loudly.

 Chapter 591

    At one in the morning, only a few windows glowed in the research center''s vast building.

    Once outside, the front entrance was desertedpletely still.

    Citrine fished her car keys from her pocket, ready to head for the underground garage, when a voice called her name from behind.

    She pressed her lips together, slipped the keys back into her pocket, and turned, the smile in her eyes fading as she faced the interruption.

    She stood quietly, sizing up Theo, saying nothing.

    Theo, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves. After waiting the entire day, his patience had worn thin.

    He red at Citrine, jaw clenched in frustration. "Do you have any idea how long I''ve been waiting? It''s been all day!"

    Citrine widened her eyes, feigning innocence, showing not the slightest trace of guilt.

    "I told you to get lost," she replied, her tone sharp and openly impatient.

    Theo seethed, swallowing his anger since he had no way to vent it.

    He forced his temper down and tried again, voice strained but civil. "Was it you who started those rumors about my family?"

    Citrine met his gaze, lifting her eyes with a flicker of indifference. Instead of answering, she countered, "Is that seriously why you came here?"

    Before Theo could reply, Citrine gave a short, coldugh. "Yes, I leaked the story. Yes, I pushed it. I did everyone a favor. The Glenwood Group deserves to be exposed for what you are-peddling fake medication, lying to patients, costing them precious time, treating lives like they''re worthless. You''ve done so much harm, you should be held ountable."

    Theo scoffed. "Citrine Carmichael, don''t pretend you''re some kind of saint. Show me a business that''s truly clean-I don''t believe for a second that your precious CICI Group or your research center is spotless."

    As a Glenwood, Theo knew full well what the family business had done. This was simply how the world worked-ruthless, profit-driven, and, as far as he was concerned, nothing out of the ordinary.

    Typical Glenwood blood-cold, calcting, and utterly repulsive.

    The contempt in Citrine''s eyes was unmistakable as she looked at him.

    After a moment, she spoke. et

    ng to hide. If you don''t believe

    me, go ahead and report m¨¨. me."

    Theo stared at her, eyes wide, momentarily speechless.

    It sounded like an ordinary im, but anyone in the business world

    knew-no one ever dared to say

    something like that out loud. Then et

    only ones who did were those

    whosepanies were so clean there was nothing left to dig up.

    He hadn''t expected her businesses to be so untouchable. For a moment, he was at a loss for words.

    Remembering his father''s instructions, Theo steeled himself and pressed on, as if taking a deep plunge.

    Jaw tight, he forced the words out. "Citrine Carmichael, aboutst time I was wrong. I shouldn''t have forced you to treat Jete. I apologize."

    Citrine saw straight through his motives.

    "Don''t bother." She cut him off with a coldugh.

    Before Theo could say anything else, she added, scorn thick in her voice, "Don''t tell me you think I blew the whistle on the Glenwood family because of you?"

    "Then why else?" Theo honestly looked lost.

    She almostughed. "Theo, let me be clear-don''t tter yourself."

    After a pause, she continued, "And you don''t seriously think that an apology

    would make me let the Glenwood family off the hook, do you?"

    Theo was bewildered. "Then what do you want from me?"

    Citrine found this almost amusing. "Theo, I never realized you could be so na?ve."

    Theo''s face paled. Through gritted teeth, he said, "Just tell me. What will it take for you to leave the Glenwood family alone?"

    "What will it take? I have no idea.¡± Citrine folded her arms, studying him. Suddenly, she smiled wickedly, her eyes shining with malice. "How about you get down on your knees and beg? Maybe then I''ll think about it."  sw?ovel

 Chapter 592

    "What did you just say?" Theo''s face drained of color-never in his life had he been humiliated like this.

    "Nothing." Citrine shot him a look, the smile vanishing from her lips as quickly as it had appeared.

    She nced at her watch and smiled,posed. "It''s gettingte. I should go."

    With that, Citrine turned on her heel and started to walk away.

    "I''ll kneel." Watching her retreating figure, Theo''s eyes flickered with conflict. His voice, cold and desperate, stopped her in her tracks.

    Without another word, the Crestwood heir dropped to his knees with a dull thud. When Citrine turned back, this was the sight that greeted her.

    "What... what are you doing? I never asked you to kneel." She feigned shock, covering her mouth as if she''d just witnessed something scandalous.

    Theo''splexion shifted between red and white as the truth dawned on him. If he couldn''t see now that Citrine was ying him for a fool, he really was an idiot.

    But havinge this far, Theo couldn''t back down.

    He lowered his head, voice trembling with humiliation. "Citrine Carmichael, just tell me-what do you want? Whatever it takes, if you''ll just spare the Glenwood family, I''ll do it."

    The arrogance that once marked the Glenwood heir was gone; all that remained was hollow desperation.

    For a fleeting moment, Citrine''s eyes sparkled with a strange light.

    She walked over, towering above him, her smile wicked. "Theo, I have to say, I really like seeing you on your knees. This is a moment worth remembering."

    Without waiting for a response, Citrine reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and switched on the camera, pointing it straight at him.

    "You''ve lost your mind. What do you think you''re doing?" Theo''s face went deathly pale. Fury edged his voice as he tried to shield his face with his hands.

    Citrine just sneered, icy and unbothered. "A moment this priceless? Of course I have to capture it."

    She snapped photo after photo,pletely ignoring his protests.

    When she finished, she nced at the screen and smirked. "Not bad. The golden boy, brought down to nothing-I think I''ll treasure these."

    "Lunatic." Theo looked utterly defeated, as if the world had copsed around him. He''d never realized just how unhinged this woman could be.

    Citrine only smiled at the insult and stepped closer.

    She kept walking until she stood right before him, then slowly crouched down to his level.

    Caught off guard, Theo felt her hand suddenly mp around his jaw.

    She leaned in, inch by inch, until there were barely two inches of air between their faces.

    "What... what are you doing?" Theo''s breath caught; his heart mmed against his ribs. He could feel his ears burning red.

    And then, like a bucket of ice water, Citrine''s next words drenched him to the bone.

    She leaned close, her voice low and venomous. "Did you just call me a lunatic? Have you forgotten you once tried to keep this ''lunatio'' as your mistress?"

    "Too bad for you¡ªeven if I were crazy, I''d never touch filth like you

    The Glenwood bloodline reeks from

    bone to skin; just standing this close eto

    to you makes me sick to my

    stomach."

    For the first time, Theo saw the raw hatred burning in her eyes¡ªa bitterness that seemed to stretch across lifetimes.

    He stared at her, dazed, his mind grasping for answers. "Did... did we know each other before? What did I ever do to deserve this?"

    The words tumbled out before he could stop them.

    Citrine''s lips curled into a cold, enigmatic smile. She didn''t bother to reply.

    She gave him onest look, her

    voice icy and final. ¡°Let me be perfectly clear: this time, I''ll destroy the Glenwood family, even if it''s thest thing I do."

 Chapter 593

    No sooner had one crisis ended than another began.

    That night, Scales was found dead.

    At the same time, the inte exploded with fresh scandals about the Glenwood family.

    #The Glenwood family hospital exposed: ording to whistleblowers, hospital executives abused their positions to collect and store the private medical records of RH-negative blood patients, all to serve as living blood banks for their adopted daughter, Kali.

    #Most of the victims came from working-ss or impoverished families.

    #Whenever Kali needed a transfusion, the hospital would lure these people in for "routine check-ups" and draw their blood-some were unwitting and went along, while others resisted fiercely.

    #Those whoplied might never realize they''d been used. As for those who refused, the Glenwoods had their ways; in the end, everyone was forced to give up their blood.

    Then came the video-just posted, it racked up a hundred thousand likes within minutes.

    In the footage, a man was creating a scene at Glenwood Medical Center.

    "Give me back my wife''s life!" he screamed. "Everyone, look at this! Glenwood Medical Center is heartless. My wife was eight months pregnant and all she did was refuse to donate blood. They sent someone to murder her-and our unborn child. This hospital is pure evil."

    He wore a white mourning band on his head and a ck armband on his sleeve, clutching a framed photo of histe wife to his chest.

    The video instantly confirmed every usation against the Glenwoods. Outrage erupted online:

    "God, how sick are the Glenwoods? Their precious daughter gets to live, but the rest of us are just disposable?"

    "One adopted daughter''s life is worth more than all of ours put together, apparently."

    "They trick people into donating blood, and if you refuse, they''ll kill you to keep you quiet. The Glenwoods are monsters."

    "A few years back, my aunt''s child was lured to Glenwood Medical Center for blood donation.'' They drained the poor kid dry-he died right there. The hospital called it an ident, and after my aunt sued, she lost. Money talks, I guess."

    "Since others are speaking up, I will too. Last year, Glenwood Group''s hospital called my son in for a check-up. The nurse kept filling vial after vial. Luckily, I was there the whole time and realized something was wrong. I grabbed my son and got out. I shudder to think what could''ve happened if I hadn''t."

    "Seeing so many people call out the Glenwoods gives me courage. I refused to

    donate blood, and dayster, I was kidnapped. They forced it out of me, and when

    I cursed them afterward, they cut out my tongue."

    "I also angered the Glenwoods by refusing. Since three years ago, everyone in my family has lost their jobs. I was pushed off a construction site and crippled for life. Nopensation, no justice. The Glenwoods destroyed us."

    The public''s fury toward the Glenwoods reached a boiling point.

    When a giant stumbles, no one hesitates to push. Apart frompanies with deep financial ties to the Glenwood Group, most businesses rushed to cut their contracts.

    Talbot and Theo Glenwood were left scrambling, desperate and helpless, as their empire began to crumble around them.

 Chapter 594

    The two of them already thought things couldn''t possibly get any worse, but then the inte exploded with yet another bombshell about the Glenwood family.

    #ording to an anonymous insider, the three blockbuster games-Titan Showdown, KS, and Never Let Go-weren''t even developed by Glenwood Group''s engineers. The games were actually stolen projects. And it wasn''t just the games; Glenwood''s once-celebrated pharmaceutical breakthrough, which had briefly made them a household name, was also the result of stolen research. That was why Glenwood Cure Group had fallen from grace so quickly.

    #The expos¨¦ went on to reveal that Glenwood Group had deep ties to severalpanies and a notorious offshore syndicate, Mirage Cay. The Glenwood family had allegedly used Mirage Cay to repeatedly kidnap top intellectuals and scientists from both home and abroad, forcing them to work for Glenwood. Most of Glenwood''s games and medical products had been created by these captives, coerced into working under duress. Mirage Cay was also implicated in human trafficking, targeting healthy, young people with no family ties-selling their organs, or luring them with promises of high-pay jobs only to trap them in pyramid schemes and scams.

    Furious and disgusted,izens immediatelybed through every game Glenwood Group hadunched in recent years. The findings shocked them: aside from those three hit titles, the rest had pitiful download numbers, nowhere close to the same league.

    It was crystal clear-Glenwood Group had stolen someone else''s work.

    And evidently, the rumors about Mirage Cay were true as well.

    This wasn''t just outrage anymore; people were out for blood.

    "Unbelievable. A publicly tradedpany coborating with foreign criminals-do they have no shame?"

    "With this level of ipetence, needing to steal everything they have, how did Glenwood Group ever be Crestwood''s top family?"

    "I feel awful for those poor souls forced to ve away for the Glenwoods on Mirage Cay. They should have been living brilliant lives, not suffering in silence under inhuman conditions."

    "God, I never imagined Mirage Cay was tied to people from our own country."

    "Countless people have been trafficked to Mirage Cay over the years, and none of them ever came back unharmed."

    "The Glenwoods have done so much evil-they all deserve the death penalty."

    "My son was lured away by Mirage Cay. It''s been ten years, and he still hasn''te back. He''s my only child."

    "My husband used to work at the tech park. Glenwood tried to poach him with a huge sry. When he turned them down, he was

    kidnapped and sent to Mirage Cay

    the

    very next day. To this day, I don''t

    know if he''s alive or dead."

    "Monsters-the Glenwoods are worse than animals. My daughter was tricked by them, too."

    ...

    The scandal triggered a tidal wave of public anger.

    Talbot''s face went ashen as he scrolled through the news online.

    "Citrine Carmichael-that madwoman. What the hell is she up to?"

    Theo sat nearby, still reying Citrine''s words from that night over and over in his mind.

    The online outrage was only intensifying.

    Talbot slumped back on the

    W. Voice barely more than a whisper. "It''s over. The ch "It''s over. The G

    family is finished this time.

    It was only a matter of time before the police came knocking.

    Talbot straightened up, fixing Theo with a grave stare.

    He spoke in a low, urgent voice.

    tome Glenwoods are done for s will be here soon. Weet

    The

    t out of the country-now."

    have

    Theo snapped out of his daze, meeting Talbot''s eyes. "Let''s go. If we wait any

    longer, it''ll be toote."

 Chapter 595

    After Theo finished speaking, he nced over at Jete, who sat off to the side.

    "Jete, why don''t youe with us?" he said.

    Jete''s face turned noticeably pale at his words.

    She hesitated, forcing a strained smile. "I... I don''t think that''s a good idea."

    She''d once thought Talbot and Theo might be her ticket out of trouble, that the father and son had the means to weather this storm. Who could have guessed they''d be so useless-unable to even deal with someone like Citrine? If she''d known, she''d have picked a different rich kid to cozy up to.

    Talbot shot Jete a look of pure disdain, his tone dripping with mockery. "The Glenwood family''s finished, and now this woman can''t wait to dump you. And you''re still dumb enough to worry about her, wanting to bring her abroad. She doesn''t care about you at all."

    His words hit Jete right where it hurt. Her expression stiffened; he''d seen straight through her.

    Theo didn''t argue. He just looked at Jete, his voice steady and unemotional. "Jete, you saved my life. No matter what, I can''t just leave you behind. Let me ask you again-are you willing toe abroad with me?"

    Inside, Jete was fuming, but on the surface, she put on her most delicate act. "Theo, I''d hate to leave you, but I have friends here in Crestwood. I really can''t go."

    She wasn''t stupid. Fleeing Crestwood to start over in some foreign country? Who knew what kind of miserable life awaited her there? No, she''d much rather stay- there were always opportunities in a ce like this. Sooner orter, she''d find herself another rich mark, and life would be smooth sailing again.

    "Alright," Theo replied, not pressing her any further.

    In fact, the moment Jete turned him down, he almost felt relieved.

    Time was running out-the police might show up as early as tomorrow. Talbot didn''t dare wait any longer. He quickly booked thetest flight out.

    That night, Talbot and Theo slipped quietly to the airport.

    Just as they were about to pick up their tickets, both men felt a chill, as if someone was watching them.

    They turned around in unison and saw several men in ck suits staring straight

    at them. When the men caught their eyes, they even smiled.

    A sense of dread swept over Talbot.

    He muttered, "Looks like we aren''t getting out of here."

    Theo started to reply, but the suited men were already approaching.

    The one in front, face cold and

    expressionless, spoke quietly,

    "Gentlemen, you won''t be leaviel

    tonight. If you try to board that flight, we''ll call the police right away."

    Talbot''s jaw clenched in frustration. ¡°Citrine Carmichael''s really out for blood."

    The man ignored him, voice icy. "You''d better go back quietly."

    That night, Talbot and Theo had no choice but to return home.

    Once inside, despite having supposedly quit, both men chain-smoked, one cigarette after another, the smoke thickening with each hour.

    Talbot

    he''d lost all his strength. "It''s

    thooked over at his son, as if Theo. There''s no way et

    We''re finished."

    Before Theo could answer, something fierce shed in Talbot''s eyes. "After all these years in

    velo

    business, I can''t believe I''m losing to a little girl. I won''t ept it

    "So what are you nning to do?" Theo asked, grinding out his cigarette.

    A wild idea seemed to seize Talbot; his eyes gleamed with desperation. ¡°If I''m

    going down, Citrine Carmichael''sing with me."

    Theo''s eyes went wide. "What are you talking about?"

    Talbot didn''t answer. He picked up his phone and made a call.

    As Theo overheard the contents of the conversation, he leapt to his feet,

    snatching the phone away. "Talbot, have you lost your mind?"

    "I have. Why not? If I stay here, I''ll be in jail by tomorrow. If I''m doomed, I''m taking someone down with me."

    "No, you can''t do this." Theo couldn''t even say why he was stopping him he just knew, deep down, this couldn''t happen.

 Chapter 596

    Talbot shot Theo a surprised look, his tone sharp. "Theo, you''ve never been this soft-hearted before."

    He paused, as if something had suddenly urred to him, then asked, almost suspiciously, "Don''t tell me you''ve fallen for that woman?"

    Theo''s eyes widened in rm. "I-I have not!"

    Talbot let out a weary sigh. Seeing his son react as if someone had stepped on his tail, how could he not know? The truth was written all over Theo''s face.

    Talbot''s expression darkened, his words stern. "Don''t even think about it, Theo. That woman despises the Glenwood family. You and she are destined to be on opposite sides."

    "You''re overthinking it. I don''t like her," Theo muttered, lips pressed into a stubborn line, refusing to admit anything.

    Talbot said nothing more.

    That night, Citrine tossed and turned, unable to find any peace. A vague sense of foreboding gnawed at her, growing stronger with every passing minute.

    Her instincts told her trouble wasing-and soon.

    When dawn broke, Citrine was already awake. She headed straight to the research center''s cafeteria, ordered a quick breakfast, and picked at her food, unable to shake the unease tightening in her chest. Just as she was about to get up and leave, her phone vibrated in her pocket.

    She fished it out and read the message, her delicate brows knitting together in rm.

    123xxxxxxxx: Your father, your grandfather, your brother, and your Uncle Manley are all with me. I hear you care a lot about them. If you want them to stay alive,e alone to the abandoned building in Southside. No cops. If you call for help, I''ll kill them.

    So her premonition was dead-on, after all.

    The message came from an unfamiliar number, but Citrine didn''t need to guess. This had Talbot written all over it.

    She fired back a reply: Wait there. I''m on my way.

    Without hesitation, she grabbed her things and left the research center, telling one of her colleagues she had something urgent to handle. Just like Talbot demanded, she didn''t call the police.

    Half an hourter, Citrine arrived at the crumbling old building on Southside. No sign of Talbot. Without a second thought, she dialed the number that had sent the message.

    The call connected almost immediately.

    "Where are you?" Citrine demanded.

    1.n

    A low chuckle came from the other end. "You got here fast. Guess you really do care about these guys. I''m surprised, Citrine Carmichael. I always thought you were ruthless and tight-lipped, but it turns out you''re loyal to the core."

    Citrine scowled, her patience wearing thin. "Cut the crap. Where are you?" ¡°Upstairs,¡± Talbot replied coolly.

    She hung up without another word and headed straight for the staircase, not hesitating for a second.

    Up on the top floor, Raymond Weston, Manley, and Travis were bound tightly, ropes digging into their arms. The four captives red daggers at Talbot, cursing him under their breath.

    Travis was seething. "Talbot, you miserable old bastard! If you''ve got a problem, take it out on us. Using us to threaten Citrine-what kind of man does that make you?"

    Weston, who had lived through more than most men could dream of, never imagined he''d end up as a kidnapping victim. Unlike Travis, he was calm, his eyes cold and fearless as he stared Talbot down,

    His voice was steady and cutting. "President Glenwood, if you have a score to settle, settle it with us. There''s no need to drag Citrine into this. Let her go home, and we adults

    can work this out. If we can''te to an agreement-do whatever you want with us, but leave her out of it."

    Manley chimed in, "Seriously, you''re an old man nearly at death''s door. Picking on a young woman like this-if word gets out, people willugh you off the street."

    Raymond''s face was tight with anger, his voice raw. "If you want something, take it out on me. Using us to get to Citrine is downright low, even for you."

 Chapter 597

    Talbot looked down at the group-not angry, but almost amused.

    He let out a low chuckle. "You Carmichaels really are sentimental. Even when your own lives are hanging by a thread, you''re more worried about that girl, Citrine Carmichael, than yourselves."

    Raymond''s brows drew together in a scowl as he red at Talbot. ¡°Talbot, if you''ve got the guts, kill me. But going after Citrine-a child-what does that prove? She''s never done you any harm."

    "No harm?" Talbot shot him a look of disbelief, as though Raymond had just cracked a joke. He paused, a wild glint flickering in his eyes. "If it weren''t for Citrine Carmichael, the Glenwood family wouldn''t have fallen. I wouldn''t be here, ruined." His voice trembled with barely suppressed rage.

    He gave a cold snort, sweeping his gaze over them. "I bet you still don''t know, do you? Citrine Carmichael is the mysterious chairwoman behind Crestwood Medical Research Center. Every bit of dirt about the Glenwood family that''s hit the inte came straight from her. She''s been targeting us from the very beginning."

    Hatred shed in Talbot''s eyes. "A little girl-calcting every step, and she''s managed to push us this far. I can''t help but admire her, in a way."

    Crestwood Medical Research Center?

    Weston stared at him in disbelief. "Citrine is the chairwoman of Crestwood Medical?"

    Talbot gave a short, bitterugh. "Citrine Carmichael hid it well-not even you knew."

    The Carmichaels'' faces turned ashen.

    They remembered how the trouble for the Glenwoods had first started with Crestwood Medical, and the recent flood of scandals online. As the pieces fell into ce, a heavy silence settled over them.

    All this time, the Carmichaels had assumed the Glenwoods had simply crossed the wrong people at Crestwood Medical. It never urred to them that Citrine herself was the one pulling the strings, orchestrating the Glenwoods'' downfall.

    They knew what Citrine was capable of. If Talbot said it was her, it had to be true.

    But Travis, clueless about anything to do with the family business, shot back without thinking. "So what if Citrine''s the chairwoman? That doesn''t prove she''s behind all the dirt on your precious Glenwood Group."

    He snorted in open contempt. "Your family''s done more than enough to make enemies. Maybe you finally pushed someone too far-maybe you had iting."

    "Shut your mouth." Talbot''s re could have cut ss, but when that wasn''t enough, he strode over and kicked Travis hard.

    Travis doubled over in pain, curling up on the ground, but his eyes were wild-like a young wolf about to spring for Talbot''s throat.

    Meanwhile, in an abandoned high-rise that stretched twenty-eight floors into the sky, Citrine had no choice but to climb the stairs herself-there was no elevator.

    Even though the weather outside was bitterly cold, by the time she''d reached the upper floors, sweat beaded at her brow and she felt her body grow warm from the exertion.

    She paused on the twenty-seventh floor to catch her breath, ready to press on, when Theo emerged from the shadows at the end of the hall, striding straight toward her.

    Citrine immediately took a few wary steps back, eyes fixed on him.

    Theo stopped, keeping his hands in his pockets, his voice cool and t. "Go back. My father''s made up his

    e''s willing to die if it means

    taking you down with him.

    "Get out of my way." Citrine shot him a frosty re, making it clear she had no intention of listening.

    "I''m just trying to help you," Theo said, frustration creeping into his tone. Clearly, he thought she should be grateful. When she brushed off his warning, his face darkened.

    "Keep your fake concern to yourself. It''s disgusting." Citrine''sugh was cold and

    sharp, and she didn''t bother hiding her contempt.

 Chapter 598

    As soon as the words left Theo''s mouth, Citrine started up the final flight of stairs. Theo was ovee by a strange, inexplicable feeling. Deep down, he just didn''t want Citrine to go up there. His instincts screamed that if something happened to her, he''d regret it for the rest of his life. At this moment, gut feeling outweighed

    reason.

    He pressed his lips together, blocking her path once more. "Citrine Carmichael, if you go up there today, you''ll die. But if you walk away right now, I''ll pretend you were never here. Talbot won''t hear a word about this from me."

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh, a soft, bitter sound. "Theo, you really are your father''s son." Like father, like son-both so "kind and devoted," she thought with a trace of sarcasm.

    Theo''s expression shifted, disbelief flickering in his eyes. "Citrine Carmichael, I''m trying to help you."

    She looked at him with pure contempt. "If you really wanted to help, you should''ve told mest night that Talbot was going after my family, not waited until they''d already been taken. Don''t act like some hero now, expecting me to fall at your feet in gratitude just to stroke your ego."

    She spat out the words. "Pretending to help me, and you call that kindness? Disgusting."

    Theo''s face darkened, as if her words had drawn blood.

    He let out a cold snort. ¡°If you''re so set on rushing to your own death, then I''ve got nothing left to say."

    Citrine didn''t bother responding. She simply stepped around him and climbed thest flight to the rooftop.

    She didn''t see the look on Theo''s face as she left-so dark it seemed to suck all the light from the stairwell.

    The moment Citrine stepped onto the rooftop, she saw four people tied up near the edge, bound so tightly they looked like they''d been trussed by a professional.

    Her face remained impassive, but her hands-hanging at her sides-curled into tight fists.

    "So you finally made it." Talbot''s eyes glinted as he spotted her.

    Citrine kept her gaze low, voice t. "You''ve got what you wanted. Let them go."

    She didn''t wait for a reply. She strode straight toward Raymond.

    "Let me get you out of this," she said, kneeling down in front of him. But as soon as her hands reached for the ropes, she sensed someone behind her-apresence, followed by the cold press of metal against her temple.

    Her face tightened as she slowly withdrew her hands.

    "What do you think you''re doing?" she demanded, standing to re at Talbot, brows drawn in anger.

    Talbot flicked his eyes toward the burly man in camouge, who holstered his gun and stepped back.

    Talbot lounged in his chair, toying idly with the pistol in his hand. His eyes, old and sharp, glinted with cunning as he smiled. "I was going

    to let at four of them go, once you showed up. But now, seeingjust how much you all care about each other... I''ve changed my mind."

    Citrine narrowed her eyes, silent.

    She knew then-he''d gone back on his word. Not one of her people would be leaving this rooftop today.

    She cut straight to the chase. "Fine. What do you want from me?"

    Talbot ignored her question, his lips curling into a smile as he looked her over. "Number One. It''s been a long time, hasn''t it?"

    No one had called her by that code in years. Even after a lifetime apart from it, hearing someone use that name still triggered a viscerab rejection deep inside her.

    Citrine lifted her head again, eyes cold and changed.

    "So you know everything now," she said icily.

    Talbot chuckled, his tone almost friendly-like an old acquaintance catching up. "Back then, I really thought you were dead."

 Chapter 599

    "So you really did run off. You know, we searched for you everywhere-turned nearly every foreign country upside down. Never thought you''d actuallye back home."

    Talbot''s voice was tinged with regret, as if he''d lost a valuable chess piece.

    Citrine gave a sharpugh. "What''s wrong, Talbot? Surprised to learn I''m still alive?"

    At that, Talbot''s expression darkened. "You should''ve died. If I''d known you''d escape, I would''ve finished you off myself."

    "If you''d been dead back then, none of this would be happening now. The Glenwood family wouldn''t have been ruined by you."

    His face twisted with anger, emotions slipping out of his control.

    Citrine couldn''t help but find it all absurd. She smiled coldly at Talbot. "Your family''s been rotten to the core for years. Even without me, someone else would''ve exposed your crimes sooner orter."

    Number One? Escape? Death?

    The Carmichaels werepletely lost, exchanging confused nces. Only Raymond and Weston understood the true weight of Citrine''s words-their faces set in grim, murderous lines as they red at Talbot.

    Citrine''s gaze slid over Talbot and the man beside him, Theo, her tone dripping with disdain. "I spent two years on Mirage Cay, working myself to the bone researching games and pharmaceuticals. I took the beatings, bore the suffering, but the profits all went to the Glenwood family. The game I created, the drugs I developed those have lined your pockets for years."

    She paused, then continued, "It''s almost funny when you think about it.

    Crestwood''s so-called first family, a top-tier corporation-all because you stole my work. Everything you wear, eat, and own, you owe to me. Without me, the Glenwoods would be nothing."

    Theo''s face drained of color. He stared at Talbot, disbelief in his voice. "She... she''s Number One from Mirage Cay?"

    Talbot didn''t answer, but the look on his face said everything.

    He sneered at Citrine. "Sharp tongue, as always."

    Turning away, Talbot scanned the four Carmichaels standing nearby, his voice suddenly taunting. "You Carmichaels really raised a remarkable daughter. If not for you, if not for giving birth to such a genius, our family would never have soared so high in Crestwood."

    He let out a short, humorlessugh. "Do you know why she was Number One on Mirage Cay?"

    The Carmichaels stared at him. Travis finally asked, "Why?"

    vel

    Talbot''s tone was calm, almost conversational. "There were 810 prisoners on Mirage Cay, each ranked by their contributions. Number One was the highest rank the one with the most power, even able to challenge the warden. Number 810 was the lowest, a nobody, a disposable pawn."

    "The top hundred

    prisoners-Numbers 1 through 100-were considered the kings. 101 to 200 were the titled elite. 201 to 300 came from prominent families. 301 to 400 weremoners 401 to 500 were lower-ss outcasts, and the remaining 501 to 810 were the lowest of the low. Those at the bottom had no say in anything. If our family gave the order, they''d be shipped off to some overseas organ market without a second thought."

    "When Citrine first arrived, she was prisoner 810 the lowest rank. She was supposed to be sent away for organ harvesting, but the kid was too clever for that. She convinced the warden she could be useful, so I let her live. She didn''t disappoint: soon after, she developed Titan Showdown, a game that exploded in poprity the moment itunched."

    By now, the Carmichaels understood everything. Their faces were ashen, pained

    by the thought of what Citrine must have endured all these years.

    Suddenly, a faint rustling echoed from the stairwell.

    Talbot''s face snapped to attention. He tensed, barking amand to the man in camouge nearby. "Go see what that was!"

 Chapter 600

    "Yes, sir."

    At the order, the soldier in camouge readied his rifle and crept slowly toward the

    corner.

    It was a dead end-nowhere left to run. Hilda reached into her pocket and drew out a knife, gripping it tightly in her palm.

    The footsteps drew nearer. Determined, Hilda sprang from her hiding spot, thrusting the de toward the soldier''s chest.

    She''d picked up a little self-defense over the years, but this man-one of Mirage Cay''s elite, trained to the bone-was in a different league. He knocked the knife from her hand before she could blink. With barely any effort, he pinned her arms and pressed the muzzle of his rifle against her back, shoving her up the stairs to the rooftop.

    The moment Hilda appeared, Citrine''s eyes widened in shock. She quickly masked her reaction, forcing her emotions down and showing nothing on her face.

    Talbot, on the other hand, looked genuinely surprised. His lips curled into a mocking smile.

    "Well, President Saunders, shouldn''t you be enjoying your corner office? What brings you here?"

    Hilda ignored him. Her gaze fell on Citrine-she looked her up and down, searching for injuries. Only when she saw Citrine was unharmed did her shoulders loosen.

    She turned to Talbot, scoffing. "Let her go, Talbot. I''ll help you get out of the country."

    Talbot''s grin widened. This was getting more interesting by the minute-one after another, all of them so protective of Citrine. What spell had she cast on them?

    But he no longer cared about escaping. His eyes narrowed, voice sharp. "President Saunders, what exactly is your rtionship with Citrine Carmichael?"

    The answer hovered in the air. Talbot barely waited a second before continuing, "She''s your long-lost daughter, isn''t she?"

    Hilda didn''t answer, but her expression said enough.

    Talbot burst outughing. ¡°Well, isn''t that something! She really is your daughter."

    "No wonder-like mother, like daughter. You''ve both been a thorn in my side for years," he sneered. Hilda had been his adversary sinc¨¨ the early days, never missing chance to put him in his ce. Now, her daughter was proving just as infuriating.

    "Tie her up," he ordered the camouged soldier behind Hilda.

    In the boardroom, Hilda''s word wasw; no one dared cross her. But now, faced with humiliation, her anger boiled over. "You bastard! Don''t you dare touch me!"

    The soldier said nothing, pushing the gun against her temple.

    Talbot''s voice was icy. "Make one more sound and you''re dead.¡±

    Hilda fell silent, powerless as the soldier bound her hands and feet.

    Talbot surveyed the lineup of captives, a satisfied smile curling on his lips. ¡°Perfect. The family reunion isplete."

    He turned to Citrine, and without warning, forced a gun into her hands.

    Leaning in close, he whispered in her ear, "Citrine, do you remember what happened on Mirage Cay?"

    He didn''t wait for an answer. "Do you remember what it felt like to be torn apart by

    those dogs? How those people lost their minds and tore each other to pieces?

    Blood everywhere, bones floating in the puddles the next morning."

    "You suffered there-night after night of beatings, torture. You almost died more times than you can count. And while you bled and cried, your parents were living up, wining and dining without a care in the world. Tell me, don''t your

    them? Don''t you feel the injustice,

    deep in your bones?"

    Talbot''s voice was a dark, poisonous

    wind. "If only they''d found you

    in

    sooner, you wouldn''t have suffered like that. They''re the reason for everything that happened to you. You were just a child-eleven twelve at most. You should have been the brightest jewel of both the

    Carmichaels and the Saunders. Instead, you became a pawn for the Glenwood family''s greed."

    He tightened his grip on Citrine''s hand, guiding the gun''s barrel until it pointed at Raymond.

    "Go on," Talbot urged, voice low and insidious. "Kill them.¡±

 Chapter 601

    Talbot''s gaze lingered on Citrine, and a twisted idea flickered across his face. His voice slithered through the room. "Originally, I nned for both of us to go down together tonight. But now, I can''t help but pity you."

    A manic smile split his lips. "I''ve changed my mind."

    He jabbed a finger toward Raymond Carmichael and the others. "How about this: kill those five, and I''ll let you walk free. What do you say?"

    Citrine said nothing. Her eyes were as dark as a starless night.

    Talbot pressed on, his tone almost coaxing. "Don''t you hate them? If not for them, would you have been tortured half to death on Mirage Cay?"

    "Come on, be good. Kill them, and I''ll let you live."

    Watching her murder her own family seemed far more entertaining than simply killing her himself.

    Expectation flickered in Talbot''s eyes.

    The Carmichaels and Hilda Saunders listened in horror, piecing together the fragments of Citrine''s suffering a horror they''d never truly imagined before. Beaten on Mirage Cay, torn at by dogs, forced to witness cannibalism up close... These were nightmares beyond theirprehension.

    Raymond had seen glimpses of her torment in his dreams: his daughter bullied, thenter lying motionless in a hospital bed. But hearing a stranger recount Citrine''s pain out loud, his heart twisted with unbearable guilt.

    Talbot was a monster, but one thing he said rang true: every ounce of Citrine''s suffering could be traced back to them.

    If only they''d found her sooner, if only they''d protected her, she wouldn''t have endured such hell.

    If she hated them, who could me her?

    Guilt crashed over Raymond like a tidal wave.

    The rest of the Carmichael family was no better off; shame kept their eyes fixed anywhere but on Citrine.

    Since returning, Citrine had been nothing but good to them. She''d broughtfort to Raymond''s father, Weston Carmichael, giving the oldman thepanionship he''d craved. She''d helped Manley Carmichael, once lost in despair, stand tall again and find hope. Even Travis Carmichael, who''d been reckless and wayward, had turned his life around-he owed his ce at Havencrest University to Citrine''s guidance.

    She was the family''s lucky star.

    Citrine had given so much to the Carmichaels, and yet every one of them had failed her. If time could turn back, they would have moved heaven and earth to bring her home, never letting her face that nightmare alone.

    But everyone knew life offered no second chances.

    The Carmichaels were drowning in regret.

    Meanwhile, Hilda''s cheeks were already slick with tears.

    She''d always known her daughter had been sent to Mirage Cay at eleven, but hearing the full truth shattered her. Citrine had lived in a world without a single drop of sweetness, only hardship and pain. How could she ever expect her daughter to empathize with her?

    It was all her fault. If only she''d kept a closer watch, Citrine wouldn''t have gone missing¡ªwouldn''t have suffered. Maybe now she''d be carefree, like those other privileged children at Crestwood,ughing away their youth without a worry.

    Red-eyed and trembling, Hilda choked out, "Citrine, I failed you. If I''d only watched over you better, you wouldn''t have been lost, you wouldn''t have suffered. You have every right to hate me."

    Her voice broke with grief. "Look, if killing me is what it takes for you to be free, then do it. I don''t expect forgiveness. I only want you to live. That''s all I ask."

    One by one, the Carmichaels spoke up.

    Raymond, his regret bone-deep, looked at his daughter with aching tenderness. "Citrine, it''s me who owes you everything. If it will save you, then take my life. I won''t me you. In the next life, I hope I can still be your father."

    Manley stared at his niece, memories flooding back-memories of their early connection, long before he realized who she truly was. If only he''d recognized her sooner, brought her back to the Carmichaels@arlier... Maybe then she''d have been spared the pain at the Iversons''.

 Chapter 602

    With guilt weighing on his conscience, Manley said softly, "Citrine, I should have recognized you sooner. I''m so sorry."

    He looked her in the eyes. "Do it, Citrine. Pull the trigger if you have to. I won''t me you. In fact, I''d be d¡ªif it means you survive, that''s all that matters to me."

    Maybe the others didn''t quite understand what Manley was saying, but Citrine did. When she''d first escaped from Mirage Cay and fled overseas, her days were filled with fear and hiding, barely scraping by, never knowing where her next meal woulde from. She still remembered the day she was caught stealing bread from a caf¨¦-Manley was the one who''d saved her then.

    The memory made her eyes sting as she looked around at everyone.

    Weston spoke up as well. "Citrine, it''s the Carmichael family who owes you an apology. And I owe you one most of all. When you first returned, I should''ve treated you better. I was wrong, and I''m sorry for it."

    He shot a contemptuous re at Talbot, but when he turned to Citrine, his expression softened, full of grandfatherly affection. "Listen, sweetheart, I''ve lived long enough-more than enough, really. My life isn''t worth much anymore. If trading it could keep my granddaughter alive, I''d do it without a second thought. So, kiddo, don''t hesitate."

    Even though Travis was still young, Carmichael blood ran strong in his veins- fearless and unyielding.

    "As long as you''re alive, Citrine, that''s all I care about," he said, voice steady.

    As he finished, Travis spat at Talbot''s feet and snarled, "Come on, old man-if you want to kill someone, kill me!"

    In that moment, the Carmichaels stood united-there wasn''t a single hint of hesitation among them.

    Talbot had expected to see the family turn on each other, but instead he found them unbreakably loyal. Every single one of them was ready to die for this stubborn girl.

    With a slow, mocking p, Talbot sneered, "Well, well. I never thought I''d see such irond resolve from the Carmichaels."

    He fixed his gaze on Manley and Weston, a smirk curling his lips. "Weston, if I''m not mistaken, Travis is your grandson. You''d really just stand by and watch him die?"

    "And you, Manley-Travis is your own son. Even a wolf won''t eat its own cub, but you''d let your boy die for your niece? That''s cold. Anyone watching might think Citrine Carmichael was your real daughter."

    His words were a tant attempt to sow discord, but the Carmichaels weren''t so easily fooled.

    Weston onlyughed drily. "Travis is my grandson, yes, and a Carmichael through and through. Of course I don''t want to see him die, but I''d rather that than watch him cower and beg for his life. He''s brave, and I''m proud of him."

    Manley didn''t even spare Talbot a nce. "Citrine is not just my son''s best friend she''s the little sister he loves most. I care for her deeply, but I love my son too. Today, I''m proud he''s willing to protect his sister, and if ites down to it, I''ll die with him. He''ll never face that alone."

    Travis''s chest tightened with emotion. In all his life, he''d never heard his grandfather praise him-or his father, for that matter, express any affection. He''d always thought Weston despised him, and that Manley, his reluctant father, simply didn''t care. Only now did he realize how wrong he''d been. They loved him, each in their own way-no less deeply than they loved Citrine, just quieter, weightier.

    He red furiously at Talbot. "Don''t even bother trying to turn us against each other Let me tell you something: I''dy down my life for my sister, no matter what. If my grandfather and my dad both asked me to do it, I''d do it without regret."

    He turned to Citrine, his voice fierce but full of love. ¡°My sister is the best in the

    world. As long as she''s safe, nothing else matters to me."

 Chapter 603

    Hearing what the Carmichaels and Hilda said, Citrine felt a sudden ache in her chest-a deep, unfamiliar sting.

    She remembered how she used to be: always guarded, suspicious, never willing to trust anyonepletely.

    But now, standing on the knife-edge between life and death, seeing so many people willing to risk everything just so she could live, Citrine realized atst- they truly loved her.

    She was no longer some pitiful, unloved orphan. In this life, she had parents and family who cherished her. She had known so much love-more than she ever imagined possible.

    This warmth, this belonging, was something she''d never tasted in her previous life, not even as shey dying. To think she''d finally found it now.

    Citrine stood frozen, unable to move. Talbot''s patience was wearing thin; he frowned irritably and called out in a warning tone, "Citrine Carmichael, you know who these men in camouge are, don''t you? They''re mercenaries I hired from overseas. You''ve seen what they''re capable of."

    He gestured sharply toward the building across the street. "Take a look."

    Citrine followed his gaze, her heart sinking as she understood.

    Talbot gave a chilling smile. "I have snipers stationed over there. If you try anything, all it takes is a twitch of their finger and you''ll have a bullet in your skull."

    He fixed his eyes on her. "Self-preservation is human nature. Look, none of them me you. Pull the trigger."

    "If they die, you get to walk away alive." His voice was low, coaxing, as if tempting her to reach for survival at any cost.

    People are fundamentally selfish, he thought. When ites down to it, anyone will do whatever it takes to survive-even if it means turning a gun on their own loved ones.

    This, he believed, was the core of human nature.

    Talbot, who prided himself on a lifetime of manipting people, was confident that Citrine wouldn''t do anything so contrary to instinct now.

    Citrine stared at the building across the street. Her instincts were razor-sharp; she''d already pinpointed the sniper''s nest after just one nce.

    She began silently counting down in her mind.

    Talbot''s remaining patience evaporated. His tone turned threatening. "Citrine Carmichael, if you don''t start moving, the sniper''s next target will be your head."

    At the mention of snipers, Hilda panicked. All sense of propriety vanished as she screamed, voice raw and desperate, "Citrine, do it! Please, honey, I can''t lose

    you-shoot!"

    Raymond''s heart clenched. He urged her on, "Citrine, pull the trigger. If you''re scared, just close your eyes."

    Weston spoke up gruffly, "Come on, kid, do it. I''m not afraid to die. Even if I''m gone, I''ll watch over you, like I always have."

    Manley called out, "Don''t be afraid, Citrine. None of us will me you. You''re carrying all of us forward-live for our sakes."

    Travis''s voice cracked. "Citrine, I''m sorry. I should have protected you. Go ahead and shoot, sis. I''m not afraid of pain."

    Tears burned in Citrine''s eyes as she tightened her grip on the gun.

    Just as Talbot opened his mouth to speak, Theo Glenwood, unable to stay silent

    any longer, suddenly leapt to his feet and shouted at Talbot:

    "That''s enough! Just let them send us abroad-end this madness!"

    "Abroad?" Talbot snorted, as if Theo had just told a joke. "You think we''d be any better off in another country?"

    Theo shot back, "It''s better than staying here and bing murderers!"

    Talbot lit a cigar with deliberate slowness, his tone almost gentle. "Last night I made some calls. Did you know Citrine is the real owner behind the Viridis Medical Institute in the Federated States of Magnolia? She has deep ties with the Opus Rare Collective and the JR Group. If we run to Magnolia, we''ll bembs to the ughter. Do you really think we''d have a happy ending?"

    He scoffed, his eyes cold. "We''d barely set foot in Magnolia before we''d be thrown in a cell-if we''re lucky We wouldn''t even know how we died. The Magnolia route was blocked long ago."

    Theo frowned. "We don''t have to go to Magnolia."

    Talbotughed, shaking his head. "You poor fool. You really think Citrine

    Carmichael''s reach ends in Magnolia?"

 Chapter 604

    "The medical industry in Country J, the coal mines in Country H, construction in Country Y, antiques in Country K, military equipment in Country A-Citrine Carmichael cut off every path we had. There''s nowhere left for us to go."

    Talbot let out a contemptuousugh. "Citrine Carmichael. I really did underestimate you."

    He paused, then added, "But you know what they say don''t corner a rat unless you''re ready for it to bite."

    Citrine''s expression didn''t change. Her voice was as calm as ever. "Are you admitting you''re the rat here?"

    Talbot scoffed, "Sharp tongue."

    But then his face turned cold, voice like steel. "Enough. Do it now. If you don''t, you''ll all be dead."

    Raymond shouted, "Citrine, do it!"

    Hilda, desperate, cried, "Shoot, Citrine! Now!"

    As their pleas echoed, the group squeezed their eyes shut, not in fear, but with the grim resolve of people ready to die.

    Citrine''s heart twisted painfully.

    She stole a quick nce at the sniper''s position, tightening her grip on the gun in her hand.

    Talbot looked on as if he were enjoying the show. He turned to sit down, but in that instant, a sh of resolve glinted in Citrine''s eyes. She spun around and jammed the muzzle of her gun against Talbot''s temple.

    "Boss!" The men in camouge stiffened, rmed.

    Citrine had moved so fast, they hadn''t even had time to react.

    With Citrine''s gun pressed to Talbot''s head, every gun on the rooftop-snipers included-swung toward her.

    The Carmichaels and Hilda''s eyes flew open. Their faces were a mix of shock and fear.

    "Citrine?" they gasped, wide-eyed. More than surprise, their expressions brimmed with worry.

    "Let them go," Citrine said, her stare icy as she pressed the gun harder against Talbot''s head. "Or I pull the trigger."

    Talbot suddenly startedughing. He barked an order at his men: "Shoot! There are no bullets in Citrine Carmichael''s gun."

    The Carmichaels and Hilda stopped breathing for a moment.

    "Don''t shoot!" Hilda screamed, tears streaking her face. The thought of losing her daughter-just after she''d found her again-was too bear.

    Swach to

    "Kill me, Talbot! Go ahead!" she

    sobbed. "All those times I humiliated

    you, stole business from you... you never knew, did you? That car ident you had-it was me. tampered with your brakes." Hilda was shaking, her words tumbling out between sobs.

    She couldn''t lose her daughter a second time.

    Talbot sneered. "Don''t worry. Your turn wille."

    He nodded to his men. "Do it."

    They moved in¡ªbut just as they did, Citrine pulled a second, ck pistol from her pocket and tossed it to the ground.

    Talbot''s face changed instantly. He threw up a hand to stop his men.

    Citrine smirked. "Looking for this?"

    She nudged the gun on the ground with her foot, then ground it beneath her heel.

    "What the hell is this?" Talbot''s face twisted in disbelief. He looked like he couldn''t trust his own eyes.

    Citrine''s voice was cold as ice. "Almost forgot to mention¨DI brought my own gun today. Yours was empty, so I switched it out earlier."

    After years in the military, she knew the feel and weight of a weapon the way she knew her own hands. She''d recognized the empty gun in an instant.

    Talbot felt the muzzle pressed

    vels

    against his temple-this time, heavy and unmistakably loaded. He swallowed, nerves fraying. "How did you get a gun?"

    Citrine''s voice was t. "That''s for me to know."

    She pressed the barrel harder against his head. "Let them go. Or I pull the trigger

    right now."

 Chapter 605

    Talbot''s face was ashen with rage.

    How did she know that gun was empty? And how on earth had she managed to swap the weapons right under everyone''s noses?

    While Talbot hesitated to give the order, Citrine let out a derisiveugh. "Tell your men to drop their weapons and let them go."

    As she spoke, she yanked back the bolt on her rifle with a sharp, decisive motion.

    Talbot''s eyes narrowed in rm. He pressed his palm downward, signaling the men in camo to set down their guns.

    The soldiers obeyed, lowering their weapons and moving to untie the ropes binding the group.

    Yet even with their bonds loosened, there wasn''t a single smile among the Carmichaels or Hilda. None of them dared imagine what awaited Citrine once they

    were gone.

    Raymond stared at his daughter, face lined with worry. "Citrine, we''re not leaving you here alone."

    Hilda''s voice trembled with pain. "That''s right. We can''t just abandon you."

    Before anyone else could protest, Citrine''s voice cut through the air, cold and sharp. "Don''t do anything foolish right now." She fixed them with a stern re.

    The Carmichaels pressed their lips together, swallowing their words. Hilda did the same, her eyes brimming with anguish.

    Of course they understood-the only way to survive was to leave now. Citrine was holding Talbot hostage precisely to give them this chance. If they refused, they''d only make things worse for her.

    Citrine didn''t look at them again. Her voice stayed icy. "Go. Now."

    Raymond''s gaze was heavy as he looked at the others. "You heard her. Move."

    Everyone knew they couldn''t afford to weigh Citrine down. Stifling their grief, they turned and left.

    Only when thest of them had disappeared from the sniper''s line of sight did Citrine finally lower her gaze.

    The group hadn''t made it far from the abandoned building when they were blocked by another squad of camouged men.

    Raymond''s expression darkened. He red at their leader. "Talbot gave the order -you''re supposed to let us go. What''s the meaning of this?"

    The squad leader gave a mocking chuckle, as if he''d just heard the punchline to a bad joke.

    He raised his weapon, aiming straight at Raymond''s chest, and drawled, "Boss did say you could leave-but he never said you''d walk out alive."

    Raymond''s face tightened as the truth hit him. He set his jaw. "We''re not far from the building. The moment you fire, your boss is as good as dead."

    met

    The man''s lips curled in a sneer. ¡°Rx. These rifles are fitted with suppressors. No one will hear a thing. You''ll all die here, and no one will ever find out."

    "Enough talk. Time to say your goodbyes."

    ??

    He nodded, and the rest of the squad raised their guns, muzzles trained on the group. With practiced precision, they chambered rounds and ced their fingers on the triggers.

    Raymond and the others closed their eyes, bracing for the end.

    In that final moment, with death staring them in the face, all they could think of was Citrine.

    The squad leader gave themand. "Fire."

    As their fingers tightened, a sudden volley of bullets whistled from the ruins nearby.

    Before the soldiers could react, bullets punched clean through their foreheads. They dropped where they stood, dead before they hit the ground.

    Raymond and the others snapped open their eyes, stunned at the bodies sprawled at their feet.

    "Who...? Who did this?" Raymond muttered, brow furrowing in confusion and disbelief.

    Before they could recover, a squad of uniformed soldiers strode toward them with military discipline.

    Their leader stopped in front of Raymond and snapped a sharp salute.

    "Mr. Carmichael, sir. I''m Sherman, team leader for the Vermillion Vanguard''s rescue operation."

    "Vermillion Vanguard?" Raymond''s eyes narrowed, gaze fixed on Sherman. "How do you know my name?"

 Chapter 606

    Sensing the doubt in Raymond''s voice, Sherman offered a reassuring smile. "Mr. Carmichael, our orderse directly from the Boss. She showed us your profiles herself¡ªshe knew Talbot was too cunning to let you off that easily. That''s why she sent us to protect you."

    "Boss?" Raymond looked utterly confused.

    Sherman scratched his head, embarrassed. He''d assumed they already knew who the Boss was, and now he''d let the secret slip.

    But since the truth was out, he stopped hiding. "Citrine. She''s the leader of the Vermillion Vanguard."

    The Boss of the Vermillion Vanguard-second only to the Commanding General in the military hierarchy. Raymond didn''t know much about the military, but even he had seen newspaper stories about this legendary leader.

    She''d earned a topmendation after just a year in service, and her name appeared again and again in reports of daring rescue missions. The papers described her as: brave and sharp-witted, fearless in the face of danger, and though young, utterly selfless-always putting her soldiers and those she rescued before herself, often risking grave injury in the process.

    Her astonishing feats had earned her the title: the Young Boss.

    The Young Boss, the undefeated Commander C.

    Every international rescue mission she''d led had ended in victory-her record was wless.

    The Carmichaels and Hilda stood frozen in shock.

    No one regretted more than old Weston. All his life, he''d admired military heroes. In his younger days, his idol had been General Ogden Winthrop, the legendary leader of the armed forces. But in recent years, it was the undefeated Boss he admired most.

    If only he''d known that his idol, Commander C, was Citrine herself, he would have weed her home with open arms, never giving her the cold shoulder.

    Despite the awe all of them felt, their worry for Citrine''s safety overshadowed everything else.

    Raymond''s voice was urgent. "Captain Sherman, Citrine''s still over there. We have to go back for her-now!"

    Sherman pointed to a car parked

    nearby. "Mr. Carmichael, I have et

    vehicle ready for you right up ahead. You and your family need to leave first. We''ll go back for the Boss."  Raymond hesitated, then spoke solemn "Captain Sherman, I''m

    bove

    daughter-I can''t just wallet

    Sherman shook his head, refusing firmly. "No, sir. The Boss insisted I get you to safety first."

    But Raymond wouldn''t back down. "Captain Sherman, please¡ªyou must understand how a father worries about his daughter."

    Seeing Sherman''s uncertainty, Raymond pressed further, "I know how to fight. I won''t get in your way."

    Sherman hesitated, then finally nodded. "Alright. But you stay close, and you follow our lead. No heroics, understood?"

    "Agreed." Raymond didn''t even pause before epting.

    As soon as Raymond spoke, Hilda stepped forward, her resolve clear. "I''ming too."

    Travis chimed in, "Me too."

    Manley added, "Count me in. Citrine saved my life once-I can''t just abandon her."

    Weston said simply, "She''s my granddaughter-and my hero."

    Raymond frowned, irritation

    one across his face. "Enough?

    just

    us is plenty. If we all go we''ll slow Citrine down."

    Manley bristled. "And why should you be the one to go?"

    "Because I''m her father. Because I''ve spent years boxing and training-I won''t be

    a liability."

 Chapter 607

    Weston was too old, that much was obvious. Travis was just a kid. Manley had been crippled years ago and barely left his house¡ªhis health had only gotten worse since. As for Hilda, she was a force to be reckoned with in the business world, but when it came to a situation like this, no one could say if she''d actually be of any help.

    After Raymond''s warning, everyone finally gave up the idea. No one insisted on going any further.

    Sherman turned to his men. "You two, get the boss''s family out of here. Make sure they''re safe. No exceptions."

    "Let''s move."

    With that, Sherman led the rest of the group toward the abandoned building.

    Meanwhile, Citrine was already downstairs with Talbot in tow.

    Theo followed close behind, his face pale and tense. He saw Citrine about to pull the trigger and rushed to intervene. "Citrine Carmichael, let my dad go," he pleaded. "We''ll let you walk away. Just let him go."

    Citrine let out a coldugh. "Let me go? Do you really think your father would ever let me walk out of here alive? Don''t be na?ve."

    Of course, Theo knew his father''s true nature. He found himself at a loss for words.

    Citrine pressed the barrel of her gun harder against Talbot''s head and asked quietly, "You never intended to let me walk away today, did you?"

    Talbot suddenly burst outughing. "You''re right. I never nned on letting you live."

    "Not just you. None of the Carmichaels, not even Hilda. I wanted everyst one of you dead."

    There was a wild glint in his eyes. "You probably haven''t realized yet, have you? If I''ve got my timing right, they''re all dead by now."

    Citrine didn''t say a word. Her expression didn''t change.

    Talbot searched her face for some sign of heartbreak, pain, or even fear-but found nothing.

    Thinking she didn''t believe him, Talbot pressed on. "I gave the orders long ago. Today, no one walks out alive. My men followed them the moment you sent them away. Tell me, Citrine Carmichael, do you think they''re lying in the dirt or sprawled in the hallway? You think anyone will even find their bodies?"

    He waited, eager to see her break-but Citrine''s face remained unreadable, emotionless.

    He began to wonder if she ever cared about the Carmichaels or Hilda at all.

    Talbot''s expression grew uglier by the second Just then, Citrine spoke up. "President Glenwood, why don''t you guess-are your men lying in the dirt right now, or maybe sprawled out somewhere? Do you think anyone will find them?"

    Even Talbot, asposed as he tried to be, couldn''t hide his shock at her words.

    His face changed. "Citrine Carmichael, did you call the police?"

    "No," Citrine replied honestly.

    She hadn''t called the cops. She''d simply reached out to some old contacts from the Vermillion Vanguard people who didn''t take kindly to criminals, especially not when Talbot had conspired with foreign mercenaries. This whole mess threatened national security, so it was only right the military stepped in.

    Citrine gave a small smile. "Talbot, you''re surrounded now. You''re not getting out of here today."

    "What are you talking about?" Talbot''s eyes grew wide with disbelief.

    Citrine enunciated every word. "The Vermillion Vanguard has you surrounded.

    Today is the day you die."

    Talbot went white as a sheet.

    "You''re insane! Aren''t you afraid I''ll order my men to shoot you? Or are you telling

    me you''ve been nning to die with me from the start?"

    His voice grew heavier with each word.

    For all his calctions, Talbot had never expected she''d be this reckless-this ready to go down with him from the very beginning.

    Citrine said nothing, just curled her lips into a slight, mocking smile.

    A split secondter, the camouged men around them dropped to the ground, one after another.

    Talbot stared, stunned, at the building behind them, his face twisting in disbelief.

    "You think you''re worthy of dying with me?" Citrine''s voice was calm and cold as she studied his expression.

    Talbot hadn''t foreseen this

    oue. Grinding his teeth, he spat,

    "Citrine Carmichael, you''re young,

    but you''re far more cunning than I gave you credit for."

    "Thanks for thepliment," Citrine replied, grinning instead of getting angry.

    Talbot''s eyes darkened. He reached for the explosive hidden in his coat, a new n beginning to form in his mind.

 Chapter 608

    Citrine caught a glimpse of Talbot''s movement out of the corner of her eye. She paused for a moment before turning away and speaking, her voice calm but cold.

    "Talbot, I know you''ve given up on life. But I suggest you think about your son. If youy a finger on anyone, your son will go down as your aplice. He''ll be executed right along with you."

    Talbot stiffened, his hands freezing mid-motion. Whatever fight he had left seemed to drain out of him in an instant; he looked as if he''d aged a decade in the span of a breath.

    Just then, several members of the Vermillion Vanguard came down from the sniper''s perch, moving with crisp precision as they approached Citrine. They stopped before her and raised their hands in salute.

    "Boss."

    "Well done." Citrine nodded, her voice warm yet authoritative.

    Hastings Cooper stood nearby with the others, but unlike the rest-whose eyes shone with awe and respect-his gaze was fixed solely on Citrine, intense and burning.

    The details of this mission had been kept tightly under wraps. The higher-ups had only said it was a rescue operation, with the Boss working in tandem from inside. Hastings hadn''t realized the truth until he spotted Citrine''s face from the sniper''s nest and couldn''t help but ask the seasoned veterans beside him. They, all loyal subordinates of the Boss, had told him everything.

    Until that moment, Hastings had never imagined that Citrine was actually Boss C -the legendary, undefeated leader of the Vermillion Vanguard.

    The Cooper family had always been in business, and as the only son, Hastings had faced no small amount of pressure when he insisted on enlisting. But his one driving goal in joining the Vermillion Vanguard had always been the Boss-this war hero, this living legend, was his role model. Because of her, he had persevered through every hardship.

    Now, as he watched Citrine, his eyes brimmed with admiration and something close to reverence. So much so, he barely even registered his best friend Theo standing right beside him.

    Citrine, meanwhile, grabbed Talbot by the cor and shoved him toward one of the Vanguard soldiers. "Keep him under close watch."

    The soldier caught Talbot and secured him.

    Only then did Hastings snap back to the present, realizing that the ringleader in custody was Talbot himself.

    Citrine shot Hastings a look, a subtle signal. "That other old acquaintance of yours I''ll leave him to you."

    Hastings spun around and found Theo staring at him, dazed.

    Pain flickered across Hastings'' face, his voice tight and pale with disbelief. "Theo? Why? Why did you and Mr. Glenwood do this?"

    Theo just hung his head, silent.

    Hastings didn''t press further. His face darkened as he dragged Theo forward, disappointment heavy in every line of his posture. The two stood side by side, both looking utterly defeated-neither better off than the other.

    Citrine watched them quietly, her expression unreadable.

    One had just arrested his closest friend; the other had just been arrested by his.

    She wondered what must be going through their minds.

    Before Citrine could dwell on it, Sherman appeared, leading a group of Vanguard soldiers over.

    "Boss!" Sherman called out from a distance, his voice thick with emotion.

    Others might not know, but everyone in the unit rookies and veterans

    alike-was well aware of St

    story. He''d been rescued by the Boss herself from foreign mercenaries after his parents were killed. She''d brought him into the Vermillion Vanguard and trained him personally. Whether it was

    leadership orbat, Sherman was top of his ss.

    It was an open secret that the Boss doted on Sherman. Despite him being several years older than Citrine, she had always looked after him like a younger brother. More than once, she''d saved his life in

    battle, even taking bullets for him.

    To Sherman, the Boss wasn''t just his savior and mentor; she was family. His only family. His sister.

    Since Citrine left the Vanguard, they hadn''t seen each other in ages.

    Now, seeing her again, Sherman''s emotions overwhelmed him. His eyes reddened instantly.

    "Boss!" Without thinking, Sherman rushed over and engulfed Citrine in a tight embrace.

    "Raymond." Citrine''s eyes filled with tears as she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back.

 Chapter 609

    Sherman''s eyes welled with tears in an instant.

    In her previous life, Sherman had learned that the Iversons and Theo had stolen her kidney to save Jete Iverson. The alwaysposed Sherman had lost control-he kidnapped Jete, intent on killing her. In the end, the police shot him in the head, ending not only his life but also the reputation he''d spent years building as the leader of the Vermillion Vanguard.

    After his death, the inte was flooded with stories condemning him. People spat his name like a curse, and even his oldrades from Vermillion Vanguard refused to attend his funeral.

    He''d been a good, upright man, yet because of her, his name was dragged through the mud and he died disgraced.

    She owed him everything.

    They stood there, holding each other for a long time, oblivious to the eyes on them.

    Raymond kept his gaze fixed on Sherman, his expression darkening with every passing second.

    Just moments ago, he''d had a good impression of this young captain. Now, though, he couldn''t make sense of what he was seeing. Why on earth was this man hugging his daughter in front of everyone?

    Hastings and Theo didn''t look any happier than Raymond. Hastings watched the two pressed tightly together, his fists clenching at his sides.

    He was a man¡ªhe knew how men looked at women. The longing in Sherman''s eyes was all too obvious, a restrained, simmering love.

    What stunned him even more was that Citrine wasn''t pulling away.

    From the moment he''d met Citrine, she''d always seemed distant, her smiles never reaching her eyes; it was impossible to tell where her real feelingsy.

    Yet he''d fallen hopelessly in love with her precisely because of that she didn''t have to do anything, just standing there was enough to drive him crazy.

    He''d thought she treated everyone with the same indifference, that she never truly cared for anyone. But watching her now, looking at Sherman with such warmth, Hastings realized she did have a heart-just not for him.

    Theo couldn''t exin it, but something about the sight before him stung. If Hastings weren''t holding him back, he''d have rushed over and torn Citrine away from the man in front of her.

    Meanwhile, the veterans present hadn''t seen their Boss in ages. Now, seeing her again, their eyes reddened, some on the verge of tears.

    A group of tough men, used to wielding weapons and facing danger, exchanged knowing nces when Sherman hugged the Boss. Then, grinning, they surged forward and enveloped Sherman and Citrine in a bear hug.

    "Boss, we missed you too."

    They crowded around from all sides, arms thrown around Citrine and Sherman, holding them tight.

    The two were startled at first, then looked at each other and broke intoughter. Citrine smiled fondly. "I missed you all, too."

    After a few more minutes of cheerful banter, the group finally dispersed.

    Just then, Citrine nced up and spotted Raymond.

    "You''re still here?" She looked him over, making sure he wasn''t hurt before asking.

    Remembering his daughter''s earlier

    words, Raymond looked uneasy, a little sheepish, as if he''d done. something wrong. "I was worried

    about you," he said quietly, "So I came over to check."

    Citrine was about to reply when, all of a sudden, she felt someone''s gaze fixed on her.

    Her pupils narrowed sharply. Instinctively, she turned toward a building across the street.

    With a single nce, she pinpointed the sniper''s location. Raymond''s back was to the shooter.

    Citrine''s expression shifted

    immediately, she reached for hem et

    = but the trigger had already

    been pulled.

    Before she could react, a shot rang out.

    Almost by instinct alone, Citrine threw herself in front of Raymond, shielding him.

    At that very moment, the bullet struck Citrine square in the chest, right over her heart.

    "Citrine! Boss!" several voices screamed out.

    "Goddamn bastard!" Sherman''s eyes zed with fury. He snatched a rifle from arade, took aim at the figure in camouge across the way, and fired.

 Chapter 610

    With a sickening thud, the man in camouge plummeted from the rooftop, rifle and all.

    Raymond''s eyes were wild, bloodshot with terror. He dropped to his knees, clutching his daughter to his chest, desperately pressing his hands to the wound over Citrine''s heart, trying in vain to stop the bleeding.

    "Call an ambnce! Now!" His voice broke, raw with panic.

    But then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he shouted again, "Call the Medical Research Center-tell them to send a team right away!"

    The blood was spreading fast, soaking through Citrine''s clothes, turning them crimson. Raymond''s fear grew with every second. So much blood. How could there be so much blood?

    Raymond, who had never known fear in his life, was finally tasting it for the first time. He couldn''t bear to imagine what would happen if Citrine didn''t make it.

    Sherman, his face twisted with rage, stalked across the room and drove his boot into Talbot''s chest.

    "Was it you?" Sherman snarled. "Did you give the order?"

    Talbot, already old and frail, crumpled under the blow, his bones seeming to rattle apart. He looked up into Sherman''s murderous re and, for the first time, felt genuine fear. Swallowing hard, Talbot stammered, "N-no... it wasn''t me."

    Sherman pressed a pistol to Talbot''s temple, voice icy. "Not you? The man in camouge was your guy. He wouldn''t have moved without your word."

    Talbot shook his head, frantic. "It was because of his brother-your sniper killed him."

    Sherman finally lowered the gun, jaw clenched.

    Minutes crawled by until the research center''s ambnce arrived.

    The paramedics rushed in, quickly lifting Citrine onto a stretcher and into the back of the van.

    As her father, Raymond was the only one allowed to ride with her.

    Inside, he held Citrine''s hand tight, the tears streaming down his face unchecked. A grown man, sobbing openly, but he couldn''t stop. Still, he tried tofort her, voice trembling: "Citrine, don''t worry. You''re going to e alright. I promise."

    Citrine felt the warmth of his tears ssh onto her cheek, and the icy numbness in her eyes finally melted away.

    She tried to speak, but blood welled up and spilled from her lips. Seemingly oblivious to the pain, Citrine summoned all her strength, gripping Raymond''s hand hard.

    "Dad..." she whispered, her voice so faint, so weak.

    Her mouth was full of blood, her words barely more than a murmur. Raymond couldn''t make out what she was saying, and the sight of her like this tore at his heart. "Shh, sweetheart, don''t talk," he pleaded. "Save your strength."

    But Citrine feared she might never get another chance. She clung to his arm, pulling him closer, determined.

    Seeing her so desperate, Raymond''s heart broke even more. He bent down, bringing his ear close to her lips.

    "Dad..." she repeated, just a little clearer.

    This time, Raymond heard her. The shock turned his eyes red. He had dreamed

    of this moment of Citrine calling him Dad-but now that it was real, it brought him no joy, only anguish.

    "I''m here, honey. I''m right here," he choked out, hands trembling.

    All his life he''d longed to hear her call him father. He ought to be happy, but at this moment, happiness was thest thing he felt.

    He turned away, wiping at his tears, trying to collect himself. When he looked back, he forced a smile and

    gently dabbed the blood from her mouth. "Don''t talk anymore, Citrine, We''re almost at the hospital."

    A faint smile touched Citrine''s lips. In her past life, everyone she loved had wanted her gone. No one cared for her, no one loved her, no one mourned her.

    But this time, everything was different. She was surrounded by love. Her father was crying for her, hurting for her.

    He loved her so much. She was happy-truly happy, even a little excited.

    For the first time, dying didn''t seem so frightening after all.

 Chapter 611

    She was probably going to die, yet in that moment, Citrine felt strangely happy. Holding Raymond''s hand, she managed a smile.

    "Dad, if I die, don''t be sad."

    "And please tell Mom that I never med her. Not even once."

    Raymond''s heart twisted painfully. "Don''t say things like that, sweetheart. You''re not going to die. You have to keep fighting."

    "And as for Hilda-" his voice softened, "I think she''d be happier if you told her those things yourself."

    But Citrine barely had any strength left. As Raymond finished speaking, she slipped away from consciousness entirely.

    "Citrine?" Raymond froze, panic icing through his veins.

    ¡°What''s happening? What''s wrong with her?" He spun around and barked at the paramedics in the back of the ambnce, his voice so cold and low it sent chills

    through everyone.

    The paramedics hurried over, quickly checking Citrine''s vitals. It was only after confirming she was still breathing that they breathed a sigh of relief.

    "Mr. Carmichael, she''s passed out from the pain, but her breathing is steady. Please try not to worry."

    But how could he not worry? Raymond''s heart was lodged in his throat, barely able to beat.

    After what felt like forever-though it was only fifteen minutes the ambnce finally reached the research center.

    Nathanael had already arranged everything for the emergency surgery.

    There was no time to lose; a team of doctors immediately whisked Citrine away to the operating room.

    Raymond stood pale as a ghost outside the doors, looking like the very life had been drained from him.

    Nathanael watched him, unable to bear the sight. He reached out, gently patting Raymond''s shoulder infort.

    "Mr. Carmichael, I know you''re worried about her, but you have to look after your own health, too."

    Raymond turned to face him, his eyes searching, desperate. "She''s going to be alright, isn''t she?"

    Nathanael hesitated, his mouth opening but no wordsing out.

    Crestwood Medical Research Center had state-of-the-art technology and world- ss surgeons, yet Nathanael couldn''t offer any guarantees.

    He''d been with Citrine the longest. He remembered the old wound in her chest- the year they''d barely managed to snatch her back from death''s door.

    Now she''d been hurt in the exact same spot, and that unsettled him deeply.

    When Nathanael remained silent, Raymond looked away, the hope draining from his face.

    Nathanael wondered whether he

    should say more, but as Citrine''s father, Raymond had a right to know After a moment''s hesitation, Nathanael spoke up, his voice low with worry.

    "Mr. Carmichael, years ago, Citrine was shot during a mission. The bullet lodged dangerously close to her heart. The surgery back thensted ten hours-we almost lost her, Now, she''s been wounded in exactly the same ce. To be honest, the chances of sess this time are slim. I think you and your family should prepare yourselves for the possibility.¡±

    As the words left his mouth, Raymond''s mind immediately conjured the memory of Citrine''s old gunshot wound. His eyes widened in shock, and suddenly his legs felt like they''d give out.  s?novel

    At that moment, Hilda and the rest of the Carmichael family arrived, just in time to hear Nathanael''sst sentence.

    Hilda''s face went sheet-white. Without thinking, she rushed forward, grabbing Nathanael''s arm. "What are you saying? What does that mean? Tell us the truth!" The rest of the family stared at Nathanael, waiting for an answer.

    He''d been by Citrine''s side for years. This hurt him deeply as well. Looking at all the anxious faces, Nathanael forced himself to speak, his voice barely steady.

    "She was shot near the heart years ago. This time, the bullet hit almost the exact same spot. The risk is enormous."

    He shut his eyes tightly, lips pressed together, then finally said,

    "I''m sorry, but you should all prepare yourselves for the worst."

 Chapter 612

    "Prepared? Prepared for what? What are you talking about? I don''t understand!" Hilda grabbed Nathanael by the cor, her eyes red and brimming with tears that spilled down her cheeks uncontrobly.

    Nathanael could tell Hilda understood all too well. He knew just how heartbroken she was, so he only gently pried her trembling hands from his shirt. He didn''t have the heart to say those two cruel words out loud.

    Weston, overhearing this, nearly fainted from shock.

    Travis couldn''t handle it either. The teenager bolted from the room, finding somewhere to sob in secret.

    Manley was stunned by how things had unfolded and was racked with guilt.

    He spotted Raymond sitting on a bench, looking utterly empty-like a puppet with all the strings cut. Manley slowly walked over and took a seat beside him.

    Raymond was so lost in his grief, he didn''t even acknowledge Manley''s presence. Out of nowhere, Manley spoke. "I''m sorry." His voice was unsteady.

    If this had happened any other day, Raymond would have been shocked-his proud, stubborn little brother, always at odds with him, suddenly apologizing? He''d have made a biting retort just to keep the upper hand. But now, Raymond couldn''t muster the energy to care, or the interest to wonder why Manley was acting so out of character.

    Raymond kept silent, so Manley pressed on. "You''ve always wondered why I care about Citrine. Why I treat her the way I do."

    Without waiting for a response, Manley went on, "It''s because Citrine saved both me and Travis."

    That caught Raymond''s attention. For the first time, his eyes flickered with life as he turned to look at Manley.

    Manley took the hint and continued. "Five years ago, I was abroad on business. That''s when I met Citrine She''d clearly been through hell-she was skin and bones, eyes darting with suspicion, like some half-wild animal. The first time we met, she was so hungry she tried to steal some bread from a bakery, but the owner caught her and threatened to beat her within an inch of her life. Watching her get hit, I couldn''t just stand by, so I paid for the bread and took her back to the estate where I was staying.¡±

    "She was covered in bruises. For the next few days, I made sure she was cared for Travis and she got along instantly, and I grew attached to her, I too. Just when I thought we''d

    be close, I offered to bring her home with us. She agreed. But the next morning, she was S gone-vanished without a trace. That''s when I realized she''d never

    truly trusted us. After she left, Travis

    and I were both devastated."

    "It wasn''t until two yearster that we saw her again. Travis and I had been taken hostage by a criminal gang in Magnolia, and Citrine was the rescue team''s leader."

    "I recognized her instantly, but she didn''t recognize me."

    "During the rescue, someone fired at

    me. Citrine threw herself in front of me and took the bullet-straight through her chest. The medics. rushed her away, and Travis and I were brought safely home. We never saw her after that. I searched for her, but no matter how hard tried, I couldn''t find a single trace. Until you brought her back to the Carmichael family."

    Manley looked at Raymond, his expression heavy with remorse. "Raymond, I''m sorry. I should have recognized Citrine the first time we met and brought her home to the Carmichaels. And I''m sorry. If she hadn''t shielded me from that bullet, she wouldn''t have..." His voice broke, unable to finish the sentence.

 Chapter 613

    He had no idea Manley and Citrine had known each other for so long.

    Raymond pressed his lips together, his face tight with pain.

    How could he me Manley for anything? As Citrine''s own father, he''d failed to find his daughter when she needed him most, absent from every important moment of her life. He should have been the one to protect her, but when the crisis came, it was his daughter who ended up protecting him. He felt like aplete failure.

    Raymond''s face was ashen as he slumped in the hospital waiting room, his brow furrowed in agony. Pain contorted his features, sweat beading on his forehead. But even as the difort became unbearable, not a sound escaped him.

    Manley waited, expecting Raymond tosh out at him, but the reprimand never

    came.

    When Manley nced over again, he saw just how frail Raymond looked. "What''s wrong with you?" Manley frowned.

    Raymond barely managed to lift his eyelids, forcing out a low, "It''s nothing."

    But before he could finish, a violent cough wracked his body. Suddenly, blood burst from his mouth, sttering across the gleaming, polished floor.

    His strength gave outpletely.

    "Raymond!" Manley''s eyes widened in shock as he lunged forward to catch him.

    The rest of the Carmichaels scrambled to call for a doctor.

    After a hurried examination, the doctor finally let out a relieved sigh, his tense expression easing a little.

    "Don''t worry," he reassured them. "Mr. Carmichael''s copsed from acute distress and emotional shock. He''lle around after a little rest and an IV drip."

    With that, Raymond was moved to a hospital room.

    That night, his dreams kept looping back and forth-one moment he saw Citrine living with the Iversons, the next he saw her lying pale and motionless in a hospital bed.

    He thought he''d wake up in a cold sweat, just as he always did with these nightmares. But this time, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn''t wake up.

    In his dream, Raymond suddenly saw Theo and Sawyer Iverson standing quietly by the hospital bed.

    He tried

    but before he could focus, an unseen

    Deforesee who was lying there, force yanked him away

    pulled him into another room.

    Still dazed, he looked up-and froze at the sight of the patient in this bed.

    Citriney there, an oxygen tube fitted to her nose, an IV dripping into her arm. Her face was ghostly pale.

    What happened? Why was Citrine like this?

    A terrible thought struck him, and he forced his consciousness to the next room.

    This time, he didn''t pay any attention to Sawyer or Theo. Instead, his eyes went straight past them to the bed behind.

    On the hospital bedy Jete, unmistakably herself.

    Jete?

    What was she doing here?

    Unlike Citrine, Jete was wide awake, propped up against the pillows watching a movie and snacking. She was radiant, her face full of color and cheer-she didn''t look sick at all.

    Raymond''s gaze darkened. He still hadn''t figured out what had really happened between Jete and Citrine, when he overheard Sawyer and Theo talking.  fo

    Sawyer, who''d been calm before the surgery, now seemed anxious and unsettled.

    After a moment''s hesitation, Sawyer asked Theo, "Citrine''s going to be okay, right?"

    Theo didn''t so much as blink. "Rx. She only donated a kidney to Jete. She won''t die."

    What? A kidney? They gave Citrine''s kidney to Jete?

    Raymond''s eyes flew open wide, burning with rage and hatred as he stared at Sawyer and Theo.

 Chapter 614

    Are they even human anymore?

    Bastards. The two of them were absolute monsters.

    Under his venomous gaze, Sawyer finally rxed, letting out a long breath as he nodded.

    A satisfied smile spread across his face. "Good. As long as she wakes up and stops going against Jete, the Iverson family will make sure she never wants for anything in her life."

    As soon as Sawyer finished, Theo spoke up. "Whatever the case, Citrine is still my girlfriend. When she wakes up, I''ll make it up to her. I promise."

    Sawyer''s smile faded, just a little.

    He hesitated, then turned to Theo with a serious look. "Theo, you''re really not nning to break up with Citrine?"

    Theo blinked, almost startled. "Break up?"

    At those words, the warmth drained from Theo''s eyes. He gave Sawyer a warning look. "I''ve never even considered breaking up with Citrine."

    Sawyer stared at him, disbelief in on his face. "But you treat Jete so well¡ª and besides... Jete''spletely in love with you."

    "If you don''t break up with Citrine, Jete''s going to be heartbroken."

    Theo paused, as if some memory surfaced, then said quietly, "I only see Jete as a sister. Nothing more."

    He nced at the hospital bed, at Jete''s sleeping form, and said solemnly, "Still, you have my word: I''ll always protect Jete. Even Citrine won''t be allowed to hurt her."

    Sawyer found Theo more and more unreadable. He thought of all the times Jete had cried in secret over Theo, and in the end, he couldn''t help feeling indignant for his daughter.

    "Theo, I just don''t get it. Jete loves you. You''re so good to her. For her sake, you didn''t even hesitate to have Citrine''s kidney taken out. So why-why on earth can''t you just break up with Citrine?"

    Theo pressed his lips together and stayed silent for a long moment. Finally, he said in a hard voice, "Let me make this absolutely clear. I will never break up with Citrine, and I don''t want to hear this again."

    He added, "In fact, once Citrine is out of the hospital, we''re getting married."

    "What? And what about Jete?" Sawyer''s eyes went wide with anger, ring at Theo in disbelief.

    Theo''s patience was wearing thin.

    He frowned and said curtly, "Jete is like a sister to me. As long as I''m around, no matter who she marries, no one will ever mistreat her."

    Sawyer was about to argue further when suddenly, Jete let out a piercing

    scream.

    At the same moment, the ss in her hand slipped and shattered on the floor with a sharp crash.

    Both Sawyer and Theo turned at once, rushing over in rm.

    Sawyer hovered over his daughter, worry etched on his face. "Jete, are you hurt?"

    "Did you burn yourself? Let me see." Theo was even more anxious, gently grabbing Jete''s hand to check for injuries.

    Watching all this unfold, Raymond finally understood everything. His face was ashen, stomach churning with revulsion.

    If he''d had a body, he was sure he''d be throwing up until he passed out.

    If even he, a bystander, felt this sick, how much worse must it be for Citrine, who was so innocent and kind?

    Her adoptive father and her boyfriend-together, they''d stolen her kidney to save Jete.

    Monsters. They deserved to rot.

    The three of them carried on with

    their little charade, all tender

    concern and affection, making

    Raymond so nauseous he couldn''t

    stand another second. He

    immediately forced his

    overet

    consciousness to Citrine''s hospital

    room.

    But the moment he entered and saw what was happening there, the anger he''d

    barely managed to suppress red up all over again.

 Chapter 615

    "Bastards," Raymond spat through gritted teeth.

    Those two, Sawyer and Theo-heartless, both of them. They only cared about Jete and left Citrine to fend for herself, not even bothering to hire a nurse to look after her. Were they truly that broke? Had thepany gone under? Or were they just that callous?

    It was pathetic. Even when Citrine was still unconscious, Sawyer couldn''t wait to order Theo to break up with her-and Theo, that coward, just yed both sides. He refused to break up, yet kept running back to Jete, tangled up in her drama.

    Meanwhile, Jete was living it up, eating well andughing loud, healthy as ever for someone supposedly sick. If she so much as sneezed, Sawyer and Theo acted like the world was ending.

    But here, his Citrine-she had no one. No one to care for her, not even a bite to eat.

    Betrayed by both her adoptive father and her boyfriend. How was she supposed to survive that?

    Raymond''s eyes stung as he watched.

    All alone, Citrine dragged herself across the floor, inching toward the coffee table. She was so weak she could only move herself using her arms, hauling her body bit by bit. With one kidney gone and her wounds still healing, her strength had abandoned her. Before long, she was gasping for air, utterly spent, and it took ages before she could try again. She repeated the struggle three times before finally managing to reach the bread left on the coffee table.

    It was the first time Raymond had ever seen his daughter eat like that-ravenous, devouring the bread as if someone might snatch it away. In all his memories of family meals, Citrine had always been soposed, eating in small, careful bites.

    Now, the contrast was heartbreaking. The desperate hunger, the wild way she stuffed herself¡ªit was nothing like the graceful daughter he remembered.

    Raymond ached for her, but all he had left was consciousness, unable to lift a finger to help.

    So he burned with hatred, vowing to hold Sawyer and Theo ountable for every bit of this suffering.

    Everything he''d witnessed in these dreams, Raymond had checked against reality, and every time, the events had proven true.

    But this this dream was different. It didn''t match reality. In real life, Citrine had never been with Theo-never. After what Theo and his father had done, Citrine could only despise him. No matter what the future brought, Raymond knew his daughter''s spirit¡ªshe would never, not in this lifetime, end up with Theo.

    Yet, in this dream, they were together.

    Raymond fell silent, a wild hunch forming in his mind.

    What if everything he''d seen was from Citrine''s past life-memories of things that had truly happened before?

    It sounded mad, but he couldn''t shake the conviction. Deep down, he believed it.

    Days passed. Neither Sawyer nor Theo so much as nced into Citrine''s hospital

    room.

    In the end it was one of the

    nurses a kind woman who couldn''t

    -

    stand to watch any longer-who stormed in and shoved her own lunchbox into Citrine''s hands.

    At first, Citrine didn''t trust her. She refused to take a single bite.

    The nurse worried for her health, but never forced her. Day after day, though

    Citrine ate nothing, the nurse kepting back, bringing her meals.

    It wasn''t until several dayster,

    when Citrine was so hungry she could barely think, that she finally looked at the nurse''s food and

    Swed hard.

    The nurse caught the look, smiled gently, and opened the container, setting it in front of her.

    "Come on," she said kindly, "eat something."

    Citrine was silent for a long moment before she finally choked out, "Thank you.¡±

    Just two words, but they seemed to cost her all the pride she had left.

    It was the first time Raymond had seen that look on his daughter''s face.

    Moved, uncertain, wary, ashamed.

    Anyone seeing her eyes in that moment would have thought the same thing: poor

    girl.

    For all her stubborn pride and sharp tongue, to outsiders she was nothing but pitiable.

    The nurse''s heart softened. She

    decided to sit with Citrine for a while,

    pulling up a chair beside the bed and

    chatting quietly to keep herpany.

 Chapter 616

    As the conversation went on, the nurse''s anger boiled over until she was muttering curses under her breath.

    "Unbelievable. One''s her father, the other her boyfriend, and I honestly can''t figure out what their hearts are made of. Their own daughter and girlfriend just lost a kidney¡ªshe barely made it out alive-and neither of them bothered to visit, let alone send someone to look after her. Instead, they spent all their time fussing over that other woman¡ªthe one who''s perfectly fine, bouncing around, could''ve left the hospital days ago. Are they blind or just heartless?"

    "Bastards, both of them. I''ve never seen a father or boyfriend act like this. People like that don''t deserve to live."

    The nurse''s words spilled out in rapid-fire bursts, like a machine gun-she just couldn''t stop herself.

    A few dayster, Theo and Sawyer showed up to take Jete home. It was as if Citrine no longer existed to them; they left herpletely on her own in that hospital room.

    Once she felt strong enough, Citrine handled her own discharge paperwork and left the hospital by herself.

    Raymond''s consciousness had been following Citrine the whole time.

    After leaving, Citrine returned to her apartment. The ce was shrouded in darkness, everything decorated in somber shades. Thick curtains blocked out every trace of sunlight, making the rooms feel stifling and oppressive. Raymond felt it as soon as he entered-he couldn''t see a thing.

    But Citrine moved through the gloom as if she''d lived in it forever, making her way straight to the balcony without hesitation.

    Raymond followed.

    He caught up just in time to see her light a cigarette. She stood in the darkness, facing the night, her silhouette narrow and fragile. The ember at her fingertips glowed and faded, red and then gone, flickering in the haze of smoke curling around her. Whatever she was feeling, her face didn''t betray a thing.

    The heaviness in the air settled over Raymond like a weight. Just watching her, he could feel the pain pressing down on that small frame.

    What was she thinking, standing there in the dark?

    Raymond kept herpany for as long as she stood on that balcony, sharing her silent vigil until the sky began to lighten.

    At dawn, Citrine pulled out her phone and dialed a number¡ªno name, just a string of digits. Raymond had no idea who she was calling.

    He heard her say, "Schedule the experiment for tomorrow."

    On the other end, someone grew agitated, their voice rising, desperate to talk her out of it.

    But Citrine didn''t give them the chance-she hung up almost immediately.

    Afterwards, she curled up and slept deeply-a peaceful, uninterrupted sleep thatsted an entire day and night.

    The next morning, Raymond followed her to the Medical Research Center.

    At first, he didn''t think much of it, assuming Citrine had work to do in theb. But when he entered and nced over at the bed in the next room, he froze. His eyes went wide.

    There, lying in the hospital bed, was someone with his face. No¡ªthat wasn''t just someone. That was him.

    What was going on? Why was he there?

    Raymond barely had time to process it before he heard Citrine''s voice, tense with argument. He pushed aside his confusion and hurried to her side.

    Citrine was in the middle of a heated debate.

    Her voice was steady and resolute: "Nathanael, you don''t have to say another word. I have to do this experiment."

    Nathanael, always so respectful,

    was now shouting at her in desperation. "Chairwoman, I know this project is your life''s work, but you can''t risk your own life for it! We should wait-wait for someone to volunteer for the clinical trial."

    "

    Citrine''s brow was furrowed, her tone icy calm. "Nathanael, it''s been three years since we put out the call. No one ising. Just the phrase ''artificial heart'' is enough to Scare most people away."

    She paused, her voice dropping to a grave note. "Besides, Raymond can''t wait

    any longer. His heart is failing."

 Chapter 617

    "What does that mean? Are you saying they want to use his body as a test subject for the artificial heart?" The prospect itself didn''t faze him, but what rattled Raymond was far more serious-why had Nathanael said Citrine would be in danger?

    Raymond looked desperately from one to the other, hungry for answers.

    It wasn''t just Citrine standing her ground now. Nathanael''s stance was equally unyielding, and the stubborn set of his jaw left no room for negotiation.

    His eyes were bloodshot as he red at Raymond, whoy helpless on the hospital bed across the room. Nathanael''s voice was icy. "His heart is failing, and that''s a tragedy, but why should that be our burden? Why should you be the one to donate your heart to him? You already showed him more mercy than he deserved by allowing him into the research clinic. That was generous enough¡ª there''s no need to go any further."

    He turned, voice rising, frustration boiling over. "Besides, Raymond''s not going tost much longer. We could persuade his family to let him join the clinical trial, give him the artificial heart you designed."

    "Nathanael''s right, Citrine. You don''t have to risk your own life, swapping your healthy heart for his. Let someone else be the first test subject."

    Nathanael''s anger was palpable now, his words tumbling out faster and louder with every sentence.

    Raymond''s face drained of color as he listened to their exchange. Now, atst, everything was clear.

    He was the one dying, his own heart steadily betraying him for reasons he couldn''t exin. Citrine, though, was nning to give up her own heart for him¡ª and test her invention on herself.

    No. If those were the terms, he''d rather die right now.

    "Citrine, don''t do it!" Raymond cried out, voice cracking with desperation.

    But Citrine couldn''t hear him at all.

    He stared at the two of them, willing Citrine to listen to Nathanael, to see reason.

    The standoffsted for several long minutes. Nathanael had said his piece, and neither of them seemed ready to back down.

    Five, maybe six minutester, Citrine finally turned to Nathanael, her gaze sharp and resolute. "You know why have to do this, Nathanael. I need to understand exactly how the artificial heart works-its strengths, its ws. I''m the lead researcher; no one knows this project as well as I do. My feedback as the inventor will be more valuable than any data we could get from a random patient."

    Nathanael''s expression remained stony. "That''s still not a good enough reason. You''re the head of this project, Citrine. You''ve spent two years locked in theb,

    research. You''re only

    sacrificing everything for

    §Ý§Ñ§Û§Þ§Ñ

    twenty-seven-this should be the

    prime of your life. You deserve to see what the world has to offer, to actually live. But if you keep going like this, you''ll drive yourself to ruin.¡±

    Citrine''s eyes grew distant, as if something inside her had slipped away. "The world?" she echoed, distracted.

    Thinking he''d found an opening,

    Nathanael nodded eagerly. "Yes. Take some time, experience life beyond these walls. We can put the project on hold. When we find a suitable trial volunteer, we''ll pick up where we left off. There''s no rush."

    "That''s right, Citrine," Raymond added, nodding weakly from his bed. "Go outside, find some happiness. You deserve it."

    Citrine was silent for a moment, her eyes unfocused. When she finally spoke, her voice was slow and hollow. "I don''t like this world. I''ve stopped expecting anything from it."

    Nathanael''s heart sank. He took a deep breath, ready to try again, when Citrine suddenly spoke, her wordsing out of nowhere.

    "Nathanael, Raymond is my biological father."

    "What? You can''t be serious!" Nathanael''s eyes widened in shock.

    Citrine shook her head. "I found out by ident five years ago, overheard it from Aline. I made them run a DNA test. It''s true-I''m his daughter."

    "That exins it. That''s why you made an exception and let him into the research clinic." Nathanael was stunned, the realization dawning on him.

 Chapter 618

    More than shock, he was confused. He pressed again, "But after all these years, why didn''t you ever acknowledge him?"

    Citrine gave a wry smile. "I''m not exactly the kind of daughter anyone would want. I doubt he''d care for me¡ªafter all, even Sawyer can''t stand me. I figured it was better not to bother him."

    She hesitated, then added, "Besides, everyone I''ve ever cared about once they met Jete, they all ended up liking her instead. I can''t bear the thought of even my own father choosing her over me."

    Raymond gave a bitterugh. In truth, the only one he cared about was his daughter¡ªhe would never choose Jete.

    At that moment, something urred to Nathanael. He turned abruptly to Citrine. "Chairwoman, is that why-two years ago, when Raymond''s ident damaged his heart-you agreed to let him into the research center? And you threw yourself into developing the artificial heart thesest two years... was it all for him?"

    "Not entirely," Citrine answered quietly. "I did agree to admit him to the center because he''s my father. But my research into the artificial heart wasn''t just for him. Part of me simply wanted to take on the project."

    She was stubborn, but her heart was soft-everything Nathanael hadn''t understood before now fell into ce.

    He pressed his lips together, then forced out the words, "You''re nning to give him your own heart, to test the artificial heart on yourself... mostly because you want to save him, aren''t you?"

    Citrine nodded. "Yes. I want him to live."

    She was silent for a moment, then spoke again, voice softer. "Everyone at Havencrest fears him, despises him, wishes he would just disappear. But he''s my father. He doesn''t know I exist, and he never loved me, but I still want him to live."

    "I have nothing left to keep me here. He, though he still wants to survive. If he lives on with my heart, then I''ll have died for science and faith, and I''m at peace with that."

    She had said all she could. Nathanael realized there was no point trying to change her mind. Citrine''s decision was final.

    "No... you can''t do this." Raymond was ashen, tears streaming down his face, his chest heaving with pain and grief.

    How could she be so foolish? He''d never even known she existed, never acted as a father should. He had done nothing for her, and yet, just because of a title-father-Citrine was willing to give him her healthy heart. .

    He''d given her nothing, but in his illness, he was given everything-a second chance at life, at her expense.

    He didn''t deserve it.

    Citrine was too selfless.

    At that moment, Raymond would have given anything not to be her father, rather

    than watch her sacrifice herself for him.

    But now, it was toote-there was no stopping what was set in motion.

    All he could do was watch as Citrine calmly discussed the procedure with the team of specialists. When they finished, shey down on the operating table right next to his.

    However long the surgerysted, Raymond watched every second.

    The operation was bloody and terrifying, but he never looked away-not once. He stared,

    unblinking, as the scalpel pierced Citrine''s chest, and kept watching until it was over.

    By the end, his eyes were red and swollen, his vision blurred with tears.

    But the operation went smoothly. After the artificial heart was imnted, Citrine''s vital signs remained stable.

    And Raymond, lying on the next table, showed no signs of distress either.

    The surgery was a sess.

    Father and daughter, both alive.

 Chapter 619

    Two monthster, Raymond''s wound had healed enough for him to be discharged from the hospital.

    During his stay, he''d asked Nathanael more than once about the identity of the person who had donated the heart, but Nathanael kept his lips sealed. Not once did he mention Citrine.

    After seeing Raymond off, Nathanael felt so stifled he couldn''t hold it in anymore. He went straight to find Citrine.

    "Chairwoman, you gave him your heart. He deserves to know! How''s he ever going to remember your kindness if you hide it from him?"

    He just didn''t get why she insisted on keeping it secret. If anyone deserved to be remembered, it was her.

    Unlike Nathanael''s fiery outburst, Citrine remained calm, her voice steady. ¡°I decided to give him my heart-that was my choice, not his. He shouldn''t have to carry the weight of such a debt. If possible, I''d rather he just live a good life."

    Raymond, listening in from the side, turned away, his face twisted with frustration. Even now, she was thinking of him, when she already had enough pain of her

    own.

    After she left the hospital, Citrine ended things with Theo on her own terms. She sent back every gift he''d ever given her, then returned to the research center as if closing a chapter.

    From then on, her days fell into a strict routine. She recorded her experience with the artificial heart daily-its strengths, ws, and everything that needed improvement.

    Outside of that, she practically locked herself in theb, working on projects without taking a single day off.

    During this time, Sawyer and Theo called her repeatedly, but she never picked up.

    Life settled into a quiet, if lonely, rhythm. But Raymond noticed something troubling: Citrine''s depression was getting worse. At first, her episodes came every week, but soon she was hurting herself almost every night. By day, she pretended nothing was wrong, burying herself in research, repressing every dark urge.

    This went on for months, straight through to the next year.

    Meanwhile, Sawyer and Theo, unable to reach her, grew frantic-searching everywhere, desperate just to see her.

    Citrine, ever resourceful, decided to move into the research center itself, cutting herself off from the world.

    Then, one day, everything changed. A message from Jete and Aline shattered her fragile peace.

    In the photo attached, Sawyer was tied up on the edge of a high-rise, teetering dangerously. One wrong move and he''d plummet to his death.

    *Citrine Iverson, if you want your father to live,e here. Alone.*

    Raymond saw the pain sh across Citrine''s eyes when she read the message.

    Almost immediately, her body began to tremble uncontrobly.

    Raymond''s heart clenched. He had spent so much time with hertely, he recognized the warning signs-this was her depression, about to break loose.

    But this time was different. It was worse than ever. Citrine knew it, too. She

    quickly shoved several antidepressants into her mouth.

    He''d lost count of how many times. she''d taken those pills. They used to help, but her body had built up a tolerance. The medicine barely worked anymore, and she''d probably forgotten that in her panic.

    cebo or not, after a few moments, Citrine''s shaking eased enough for her to

    grab her keys and head out to the address Jete had sent.

    As she left, Raymond nced at the calendar on the table. Today... today was

    Citrine''s birthday. He paused, emotion flickering across his face.

    But she was already gone. Pushing aside his thoughts, Raymond focused, willing his consciousness to follow her.

    They arrived quickly at the location Jete had specified.

    Citrine climbed the stairs with a calm, almost icy expression. When she saw

    Sawyer, she shot him a weary, contemptuous look.

    "So, what is it this time? Couldn''t put

    on a family show without me? It''s been a year and you people still won''t leave me alone. Go on, tell me what''s today''s performance supposed to be?"

 Chapter 620

    Citrine curled her lips, then rephrased her question. "Or maybe, is there something I have that you want?"

    Jete scoffed, her tone shameless. "Citrine, I really didn''t expect this from you. This past year, you''ve been unting your ties to the Iverson and Glenwood families,unching onepany after another. In just a year, you''ve already gone public. Impressive-leeching off the Iversons and Glenwoods, feeding off their name. Do you have no shame?"

    Leeching off the Iversons and Glenwoods? Feeding off their name?

    Citrine almostughed. Was this supposed to be a joke?

    She couldn''t help it¡ªaugh broke out of her. "Don''t tter yourselves. You think mypanies needed your pathetic family names to make it big? Feeding off you? I''d say it''s the other way around-who''s really living off of whom here?"

    She didn''t have the patience to argue with Jete any longer. Citrine''s voice grew cold. "Let Sawyer go, and I''ll do whatever you want."

    Jete''s eyes gleamed with malice. "Fine. You have two choices: jump, or sign over everypany and asset you own to me."

    Suddenly, Citrine felt exhausted. She stared, hollow-eyed, at the bound and helpless Sawyer. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Maybe this is how it all ends."

    From the sidelines, Raymond could see her body trembling uncontrobly-herposure was slipping fast.

    Then he heard his daughter force a brittle smile as she turned to Sawyer. "If this is what you want, then you can have it all."

    "Sawyer, whatever I owed you, consider it repaid. In my next life, I hope I never have a father like you."

    With those final words, she didn''t hesitate. Citrine hurled herself from the rooftop. Raymond shouted her name. "Citrine!"

    His vision narrowed, panic overtaking him. Desperately, in his mind, he willed himself to follow her, to be by her side.

    He found her sprawled, limbs twisted, on the cold floor below. Blood pooled beneath her, seeping steadily into the cracks of the tiles.

    Raymond''s heart shattered. The pain was suffocating.

    He remembered how birthdays for boys like Travis or the sons of old family friends were always grand affairs-crowded rooms,ughter, cake, family love and warmth. A celebration.

    But his Citrine spent her birthday alone, lying on a cold, unforgiving floor. No cake. No family. Only endless agony.

    On her twenty-eighth birthday, the world took his Citrine away.

    Raymond dropped to his knees, clinging to her with every ounce of his being, tears streaming down his harsh, stoic face.

    Maybe it was because her life had truly slipped away-Raymond''s consciousness was suddenly pulled upward, as if he''d been torn from her side and flung back to the rooftop.

    He heard Jete''s triumphantughter ringing out.

    "Dad, we did it! Citrine''s assets are a fortune-her will''s probably loaded. It''s all ours now!"

    Aline was giddy, unable to contain her excitement. "We''ll say it was suicide. Has nothing to do with us."

    Their gloatingughter was like

    gasoline on a fire-Raymond''s rage threatened to consume him. He screamed at them, his voice raw and desperate. "You monsters-

    you! You don''t deserve to live!¡±

    kill

    He was shaking, wild with fury, a single thought pulsing in his mind: Destroy the Iversons.

    "Damn you! Die! I''ll make you pay!¡± His screams reached a fever pitch¡ªand then, suddenly, he jolted awake.

    A white ceiling loomed overhead. The sharp scent of antiseptic. A clear IV bag suspended beside him.

    He was back in his hospital room. Back in reality.

    The memory of his daughter hit him like a blow. Raymond''s face hardened; he ripped the IV from his and

    hand tossed aside the bon his

    swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

    Just then, someone walked in. Without thinking, Raymond grabbed the person by

    the cor, desperation in his voice. "Citrine-where is she? How is she?"

 Chapter 621

    When Raymond learned the surgery still wasn''t over, a shadow crossed his face. Ignoring the nurse''s attempts to stop him, he insisted on waiting right outside the operating room.

    While Raymond had been unconscious, the Carmichaels and Hilda had kept vigil in front of the surgery doors, not closing their eyes for a moment. Even Inez, Herschel, and siblings Monica and Wade Saunders had rushed over as soon as they heard.

    Everyone looked tense, their faces ashen with worry, the corridor heavy with the silence of dread.

    Raymond stood numbly behind the group, his gaze fixed on the glowing ¡°Emergency" sign above the doors. His eyes were rimmed red, his mind spiraling.

    Suddenly, an image from his dream forced its way into his thoughts: Citrine, her features twisted in pain, copsed on a cold linoleum floor, blood everywhere. The fear that gripped him was unlike anything he''d ever felt.

    He stared at the tightly shut doors, his eyes growing emptier by the second, until a bump on his shoulder jolted him back to reality.

    "Oh, I''m so sorry-are you alright?" The nurse who''d run into him looked apologetic, her uniform crisp and clean.

    She recognized him immediately-Citrine''s father. Her tone softened with respect.

    Raymond started to reassure her, but then caught a glimpse of her face and froze. His expression shifted.

    ¡°Sue?¡± The name slipped out before he could stop himself.

    That face was the same as in his dreams-the nurse who had secretly brought Citrine meals in the hospital at night. The two images merged, dream and reality blurring.

    Yet in his dream, Sue had worked at a hospital owned by Glenwood Group. Now, she was here at Crestwood Medical Research Center.

    Sue''s eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know my name? Have we met?"

    Raymond didn''t answer her question. Instead, he pressed, "Weren''t you working at Glenwood Group''s hospital? How are you here now?"

    Her surprise deepened. That job had ended a year ago-how could Citrine''s father possibly know about it?

    Sue shot him a wary nce and asked hesitantly, "How did you know I used to work at Glenwood''s hospital?"

    Raymond realized how odd his questions sounded, and that he might be rming her. He paused then quickly made something up. ¡°Actually, I was a patient at

    Glenwood''s hospital once. You were assigned to my friend''s room, and after a while, I just remembered your name."

    That exnation seemed to satisfy her. Sue finally rxed, her posture easing.

    "Oh, I see."

    Since Raymond was the biological father of the research center''s director, Sue''s attitude was naturally respectful. Without hesitation, she shared her story.

    "A year ago, when I worked at

    Glenwood''s hospital, I came across a patient in a really desperate situation. I ended up covering her surgery fees out of my own pocket. But during the operation, she died unexpectedly. After that, her family caused a huge scene at the hospital, saying I shouldn''t have helped her without their permission-and they demandedpensation from me."

    "I didn''t think k it was fair, so I tried to exin things to my supervisor. One day, I overheard him talking with the hospital director; they admitted the patient''s death wasn''t an ident, but the result of a doctor''s mistake. I was young and hotheaded back then-so I barged into the office, demanding they clear my name. It was na?ve. After I confronted them, they fired me for ''unauthorized payment of surgery fees leading to an incident.""

    "That''s when your daughter found me. She asked if I wanted to work at the Medical Research Center instead, and I''ve been here ever since."

 Chapter 622

    As Sue recalled the past, her face was clouded with resentment. But when she spoke of Citrine, her tone shifted-pride and gratitude were unmistakable in her voice.

    Raymond''s heart softened instantly.

    His precious daughter was simply too kind for her own good.

    When Sue mentioned thepany chairwoman''s uncertain fate, her voice caught, and she dabbed at her nose, fighting back tears. "The chairwoman saved my life. Without her, I wouldn''t be who I am today. Over the past year, she''s offered me so much guidance. Without her help, there''s no way I could have gone from just an ordinary nurse to head nurse in such a short time."

    Something flickered in Raymond''s eyes as he listened to Sue''s words. He seemed to be putting pieces together.

    How could it just be coincidence?

    Sue happened to lose her job, and Citrine just happened to give her a spot at the Medical Research Center.

    His suspicions felt all but confirmed now.

    Citrine must have been given a second chance at life.

    It sounded fantastical, but with this exnation, everything suddenly made sense.

    In her previous life, Citrine never cut ties with the Iverson family. She never acknowledged him as her father. She fell for Theo, who broke her heart again and again, and the Iversons tormented her for a lifetime with reminders of their so- called kindness. She ended her life at twenty-eight, battered and alone.

    But things were different now. This time, Citrine severed all connection with the Iversons and returned to the Carmichael family. She didn''t fall for Theo; in fact, she seemed to go out of her way to avoid him. The debt she owed the Iversons had been repaid in her previous life, so this time around, she owed them nothing. She was free to walk away without guilt or hesitation.

    Raymond understood now. Everything finally made sense.

    Ever since her daughter''s ident, Hilda had been gued by nightmares.

    No... not just nightmares.

    Even in the middle of the day, haunting images of her daughter shed uncontrobly through her mind. She couldn''t block them out, even when she was wide awake.

    At first, Hilda thought she was just having bad dreams-visions of her daughter leaping from a tall building. She tried to resist them, telling herself it was all in her head.

    But as the images grew more frequent and vivid, Hilda began to realize they weren''t just dreams. What was worse, they felt disturbingly real, as if she were reliving something that had actually happened.

    The darker visions kepting, one after another, until Hilda felt her nerves unraveling.

    She pressed her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes, exhausted.

    Suddenly, the chaotic fragments in her mind slowed down, like a film reel winding to a stop.

    She saw a little girl, bundled in nothing but a tattered, pilling sweater. The child was curled up on a balcony, hugging herself tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

    The setting was a run-down old apartment building. The balcony was open to the elements, no windows to keep out the cold.

    Outside, snow was falling in thick, silent sheets, covering everything in white. Down in the alley below, people hurried by, bundled in winter coats.

    It must have been freezing. The little girl huddled in the corner, her face raw and

    red from the cold, her exposed skin chapped and swollen with frostbite.

    Hilda, who''d grown up infort and never witnessed such poverty, could barely stand to look at the child''s injuries. The sight of those angry red welts broke her heart.

    It was unbearable.

    Just then, the girl let out a weak, shivering sob. "Mommy, where are you? Why aren''t youing to get me? Is it because you''ve be a star in the sky?"

 Chapter 623

    A moment ago, the little girl''s face was clouded with sorrow, but in the blink of an eye, something shifted-now her eyes glimmered with a trace of resentment.

    How could a child so young swing between emotions so quickly, and harbor suchplicated thoughts? The more Hilda watched her, the more uneasy she felt.

    She kept a close eye on the girl''s expressions, searching for some clue, but before she could make sense of the sudden change, the child''s innocent, sing- song voice broke the silence.

    "Mommy, since you''ve be a beautiful star, why can''t you take me with you?"

    "I want to be a star too. Then I wouldn''t be cold anymore, or hurt so much."

    Her voice was soft and fragile, filled with desperate hope. For all its childishness, the words hit Hilda like a punch to the gut.

    Suddenly, a man''s rough, drunken yelling shattered the quiet of the living room.

    "What''s with all the noise? Shut your trap, or I swear I''ll toss you in the fryer!" His voice was harsh, thick with anger.

    The little one curled up on the balcony flinched instinctively at the sound.

    Her body was already half-numb from the cold, her stomach aching with hunger. Gritting her teeth, she summoned her courage and called out, "Please... I''m cold. I''m hungry."

    The man, half-gone with whiskey, grew even more irritated at Citrine''s plea.

    "Well, well. You''re still not dead, you little brat."

    He hurled his bottle to the floor, the ss shattering with a violent crash. Citrine recoiled, trembling uncontrobly on the balcony.

    Her eyes slowly lost their light. She knew what came next-another beating.

    Burying her face in her knees, she wished time would slow down, or that just this once the man might have a change of heart and leave her be.

    Instead, his curses grew louder as he stomped across the living room. He flung open the balcony door, stormed over, and kicked her hard.

    "You worthless runt! Go a couple days without food and you''re already whining? Not dead yet, are you?"

    "I gave you a spot to sleep, out here on the balcony-that''s more than you deserve! Try asking for more and I''ll beat you to death myself."

    His fists and boots rained down with merciless force. He didn''t stop until Citrine''s sobs faded and shey limp and silent on the floor. Finding ho satisfaction in her stillness, he finally turned away and left.

    Hilda was stunned. She hadn''t expected the man to be so cruel-even to a child.

    After he left, she nced at the girl''s motionless body, thinking she probably wouldn''t survive the night.

    But then, slowly, the little one''s eyes fluttered open. She looked toward the living room, waited until she was sure the man was gone, and then-wincing-pushed herself upright.

    She crawled to the far corner of the balcony, where the wind and snow couldn''t reach, and lifted her tattered sweater.

    What Hilda saw made her blood run cold.

    The child''s small body was covered in swollen bruises, angry welts, and old scars ¡ªinjuries so severe they were painful even to look at.

    Citrine''s face scrunched in pain as she gingerly touched her wounds, then let her worn sweater drop back into ce.

    At that moment, the silence was broken by the unmistakable rumble of her stomach. It growled again and again, echoing in the empty night.

    She rubbed her belly and nced around, her gazending on a strip of dried bacon hanging nearby.

    She swallowed hard, dragged an old broken stool over, and climbed up to reach the meat.

    Starvation trumped everything else

    The moment she got her hands on

    it, she wasted no time, sinking ber teet into the salty bacon without a second thought.

 Chapter 624

    The little girl couldn''t tell if the dried meat tasted good or not-at that moment, all she cared about was filling her empty stomach. She devoured thest piece of sausage, not letting a single morsel go to waste.

    With something in her belly atst, she started to feel drowsy. Curling up tightly, she drifted off into a deep, contented sleep.

    When dawn broke and the woman of the house came out, she found the string of sausage gone, while Citrine was still fast asleep.

    Fuming, the woman stormed off and returned with a bucket of icy water, dumping it straight over the sleeping child.

    "Citrine! Get up, you little brat!"

    In the freezing winter, the shock of the cold water jolted young Citrine awake, her small body shivering uncontrobly.

    Hilda''s gaze suddenly fixed on the soaked, trembling child. Her expression changed in an instant.

    Citrine?

    This little one was Citrine?

    Right then, Hilda could have pped her former self. How could she not have recognized her own daughter? How could she have ever thought her girl was scheming or unlovable?

    Memories ofst night''s beating and the bruises on her daughter''s small body filled Hilda with a murderous rage¡ªshe wanted nothing more than to tear apart the man who''d struck her, and the woman now standing in front of her.

    But she was nothing more than a bystander, a silent witness trapped in her own consciousness, powerless to intervene. All she could do was watch as her daughter was abused for the simple crime of stealing a string of sausage because she was starving.

    Hilda''s eyes burned with unshed tears.

    The woman raised a thin wooden rod and brought it down hard on Citrine''s back.

    ¡°Ungrateful brat! If you ever steal sausage again, I swear I''ll beat you within an inch of your life!"

    Hilda''s fury was so intense her whole body ached. She would have killed that cruel woman if she could.

    Suddenly, more images flooded her mind, impossible to push away. She was forced to watch them all.

    For hours, Hilda''s mind raced through Citrine''s entire life, right up until her twenty- eighth birthday¡ªwhen, as if someone had pressed pause, everything stopped.

    She woke with a start, heart pounding.

    How could a dream feel so real? It was as if she''d actually lived through it all, and even stranger, so much of what she''d seen ovepped almost perfectly with reality.

    What was happening to her?

    Desperate for answers, Hilda grabbed her phone and sent her assistant a flurry of messages, demanding an immediate

    vei.n

    investigation into everything she''d witnessed in the dream.

    That evening, her assistant arrived at the hospital carrying a thick stack of documents and pulled Hilda aside at the end of the corridor.

    "President Saunders, I''ve looked into everything you asked for. The details are exactly as you described-there''s no difference at all."

    She handed Hilda the stack of files. "Here''s all the information on the people you mentioned. I''ve organized everything for you."

    Hilda forced herself to keep calm as she patted her assistant''s shoulder. "Thank you. Double your sry and bonus for this period."

    With that, Hilda clutched the files and returned to sit alone just outside the emergency room.

    She flipped through the documents, page by page, her expression growing darker with each one.

    Every piece of information matched what she''d seen. None of it was a dream-so what on earth was happening?

    She reread the files again and again, her thoughts a tangled mess.

    Then, a hoarse voice sounded behind her.

    "There''s no need to check. Everything you dreamed was real."

    Raymond nced at the files in Hilda''s hands as he spoke.

    Ever since Citrine''s ident,

    Raymond looked like a shadow oret

    himself, his voice so rough it sounded like gravel scraping on stone. The sound startled Hilda.

    "What are you talking about?" she asked, suspicion clouding her eyes.

    Even as she spoke, a realization dawned on her. Her eyes widened. "Raymond, how do you know I had a dream?"

    Raymond fell silent for a moment before answering. ¡°Because I''ve dreamed it all too."

 Chapter 625

    Hilda stared at Raymond, stunned and silent, unable to find words for a long time.

    The two of them sat in heavy silence until finally, it was Raymond who broke it.

    "Let''s go outside and talk."

    "Alright." Hilda''s answer was immediate-she was desperate to hear any news about her daughter.

    Before they left, Raymond turned to Manley and gave clear instructions: "I''ll be out for a bit. If the surgery ends, let me know right away."

    Neither of them could settle their nerves about their daughter, so they found a quiet coffee shop near the research center, somewhere private where they wouldn''t be disturbed.

    As soon as they sat down, Raymond picked up the conversation right where they''d left off. "Ever since Citrine returned to the Carmichael family, I''ve been having these dreams. Theye to me, night after night¡ªI see her being mistreated by those people who trafficked her, then living with the Iversons after Sawyer adopted her. I''ve seen her time on Mirage Cay, and I''ve seen the end¡ª how the Iversons, together with Theo, betrayed her and led her to her death."

    Raymond recounted every detail of his dreams, holding nothing back.

    Hilda had doubted the truth of what Raymond had said earlier. But as he described what he''d seen in his dreams, a strange expression washed over her face. Shocked, she looked at him, her voice barely a whisper. "Why would we have the same dream? What is this, really?"

    Raymond fell silent for a moment, then met her gaze. "Do you really believe it''s just a dream?"

    She looked back at him, searching his face for answers, unable to speak. If these were only dreams, they felt far too real. Hilda could hardly tell the difference anymore.

    She turned to Raymond, confusion in her eyes. "What are you trying to say?"

    Raymond didn''t hesitate. "I don''t know why we''re sharing these dreams. But I can tell you with absolute certainty: everything you saw in your dreams truly happened. None of it was imagined."

    Hilda felt her heart sink. The vivid scenes from her dreams were still burned into her memory. If all of it had really happened, then Citrine''s life had truly been nothing short of tragic.

    In that moment, Hilda wished desperately that it had all just been a nightmare. But Raymond quickly shattered that hope.

    He looked her straight in the eyes. "At first, I thought it was just a bad dream too. But after each one, I sent people to investigate, and nearly everything I saw in those dreams turned out to be true."

    He paused, considering his words. "I know this is hard to believe, but I have to tell you what I suspect. What we''re dreaming of¡ªit''s Citrine''s past life. In her previous life, she never broke ties with the Iversons, and she never acknowledged me as her father. She fell in love with Theo, only for him to hurt her again and again. She spent her life repaying the Iversons for raising her, and in the end, at twenty-eight, her life ended in tragedy."

    ¡°Because of all that pain, when she was reborn Citrine cut all ties with the Iverson family and returned to the Carmichaels. She didn''t end up with Theo again, and whatever debt she owed the Iversons, she''d already paid in herst life. So now she can walk away from them, free of guilt, with nothing left binding her to that family."

    Hilda had already read the assistant''s investigation report. For years, Citrine had done everything she could to please Sawyer and the Iversons, always obeying their everymand. Then, out of nowhere, two years ago she broke off all contact with them and sought out her birth family.

    What''s more, every person who had helped Citrine in those dreams now worked

    for her, and even those who didn''t were moving in circles that benefited from her support.

    The evidence was overwhelming. The past life they''d dreamed of had left deep marks on this one, and everything was finally starting to make sense.

 Chapter 626

    All of this proved beyond a doubt-Citrine really had been given another chance at life.

    Which meant everything Raymond said was true.

    "It''s my fault, all of it. If it weren''t for that dream, I might never have realized just how much my daughter suffered." Hilda''s voice trembled, her heart torn between guilt and aching sorrow.

    Raymond nced at her, his expression gentle but restrained. In the end, he shared what Citrine had asked him to say: "Hilda, when Citrine was in the ambnce, she called out for you-she called you ''Mom.'' She asked me to tell you... she never med you. Not once."

    Hilda''s eyes were already red, but now, at his words, they brimmed over with tears.

    Raymond could tell she''d heard him, so he repeated softly, "You heard me right."

    "She... she really forgave me?" Hilda turned away, wiping her cheeks with a shaking hand and trying to collect herself.

    Raymond paused, then said, "You never really understood Citrine, Hilda. She acted tough, but her heart was softer than anyone''s. If someone showed her the slightest kindness, she''d remember it forever-she''d pay it back tenfold if she could."

    "Even if she never said it out loud, she forgave you long ago. Or maybe, the moment she realized you never meant to abandon her, she stopped ming you at all."

    After all these years, Raymond knew Citrine''s stubborn, loyal nature better than anyone.

    "She was afraid you''d be left with regrets. She was afraid she would be too. That''s why, in the ambnce, she made me promise to tell you this." His voice caught a little as he spoke, grief tightening his chest.

    "My Citrine-my sweet girl..." Hilda''sposure finally broke, and she sobbed openly, the pain from the visions in her dream cutting deeper than any knife.

    Her eyes hardened with resolve, and she spoke each word carefully, her anger steady and cold. "I''ll make them pay-everyst one of them."

    But before she could go on, Raymond interjected, his brow furrowed. "I''m afraid that''s not possible anymore."

    "Why not?" Hilda stared at him in confusion.

    Raymond''s face darkened. "I looked into everyone who ever hurt Citrine.

    Here, overseas-everywhere. They''re gone. All of them. It''s like they vanished into thin air."

    After a moment''s hesitation, he shared the suspicion that had been gnawing at him.

    "I think Citrine took care of them herself. The couple who trafficked her, the others

    who hurt her-she made sure they''d never do it again."

    They both knew exactly how cruel those people had been.

    No one could me Citrine for hating them. In fact, it was only natural.

    Hilda nodded, her face twisted in grief and vengeful satisfaction. "She did the right thing. They deserved it. I never wanted her hands stained like that, but since she chose this path, we have to respect her choice."

    After all, hatred like that couldn''t stay bottled up forever; eventually, it had to find a

    way out, or it would destroy you from within.

    Raymond understood. He nodded in agreement.

    As they spoke, Manley''s call came through.

    Raymond answered on the first ring. "Is the surgery finished? How''s Citrine?"

    There was a long pause on the other end, then Manley''s deep, grave voice: "You need toe. Now. There might still be time-"

    Raymond''s face drained of color. He didn''t wait for the rest. He hung up and took off running.

    Hilda realized something was wrong and hurried after him.

    They raced through the hospital corridors, breathless, not stopping for even a moment, until they reached the doors of the operating room Raymond grabbed the doctor by the cor, desperate. "When will she wake up? Tell me when?"

    The doctor, still in his white coat, looked stricken. He hesitated, then finally

    managed to say two words, heavy as stone:

    "I''m sorry."

 Chapter 627

    Raymond''s vision went ck. His entire body began to tremble violently.

    It felt as if something had lodged in his throat. He paused, struggling to steady his voice. "Doctor... My daughter''s going to be all right, isn''t she?"

    He forced each word out, each syble tearing at his heart.

    He stared at the doctor in the white coat, refusing to ept what was happening.

    Hilda arrived just in time to catch the doctor''s words. Her legs buckled, and she nearly copsed to the floor.

    Monica and Wade rushed over, supporting her on either side.

    Once she managed to stand, Hilda took a shaky breath. Her eyes were sharp, almost piercing, as she fixed the male doctor with her gaze. "Mourn? Mourn for what? I don''t understand."

    Both Raymond and Hilda stared at the doctor, their eyes heavy with dread, leaving him at aplete loss.

    Citrine wasn''t just the chairwoman of their research center-she was its brightest mind. Delivering this news, the doctor''s own heart ached.

    He let out a long, weary sigh and gently patted Raymond''s shoulder. His voice was low and rough. "President Carmichael, we did everything we could. I''m truly sorry for your loss."

    With that, the doctor, eyes glistening red, turned and left the hallway as if he couldn''t bear another second.

    His assistant lingered for a moment, ncing nervously at the crowd outside the emergency room. "Everyone... you may go in and... say goodbye."

    It was as if the life drained from both the Carmichaels and the Saunders in that instant.

    "No... No, this can''t be..." Raymond''s mind was a nk void, a searing pain radiating from his heart and flooding through his limbs.

    Forcing himself to move, he was the first to stagger inside.

    A white sheet covered the figure on the bed, pulled tight from head to toe, not even a hand exposed.

    The sight made Raymond falter. He caught himself against a table, barely staying upright.

    He approached, hands shaking, and lifted the edge of the sheet.

    Beneath it, his daughter''s eyes were closed, her face drained of all color, as if every trace of life had vanished.

    Raymond''s entire body shook. He swayed, barely able to stand.

    His eyes were red, wild with grief, and his voice came out hoarse and shattered: "Citrine, wake up. Please..."

    "Daddy knows you''re just sleeping. Don''t sleep anymore, okay?"

    His voice trembled with desperate pleading.

    He clung to his daughter''s cold hand, trying in vain to call her back.

    No matter how many times Raymond begged, the girl on the hospital bed remained utterly still.

    The Carmichael family was overwhelmed by heartbreak.

    Hilda, unable to ept the truth that her daughter was gone, fainted on the spot.

    Meanwhile, Talbot took the me for everything, clearing Theo''s namepletely. That very day, Talbot was sentenced to death.

    Theo was found innocent and released.

    On the day Theo walked out, Kali Glenwood and Quentin Aldridge were waiting for him.

    ¡°Brother.....¡± Kali''s eyes instantly filled with tears. She ran to him, wrapping him in a tight hug.

    Quentin, usually all jokes and

    easygoing smiles, looked unusually

    serious? He stepped forward and

    gave Theo''s shoulder a gentle,

    reassuring squeeze. "Hey man, what matters is you''re safe."

    Theo''s gaze was distant, as if their voices couldn''t reach him.

    He turned to Quentin, his voice raw and hollow. "Take me to Crestwood Medical Research Center."

    Quentin checked his watch,

    frowning. "Come on, man, I threw together a wee-back dinner. The whole crew''s there, waiting for you."

    "Take me to Crestwood Medical Research Center." Theo repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

    "Alright, alright, I''ll have everyone head out. Though Quentin had no

    idea why Theo was so insistent, he

    could see Theo wasn''t going to Relenting, he agreed.

 Chapter 628

    Kali was clearly upset, but when she saw how pale Theo looked, she swallowed herints and kept quiet.

    The three of them made their way together to Crestwood Medical Research Center.

    As they hurried toward the entrance, they nearly collided with Hastings, who was rushing in from the opposite direction.

    Hastings took one look at Theo''s ashen face and didn''t hesitate. He stormed up and punched Theo square in the jaw, voice shaking with anger. "You''ve got some nerve showing your face here."

    Theo''s head snapped to the side from the blow. He wiped the blood from his mouth, but didn''t fight back.

    "Hey, what the hell are you two doing?" Quentin stepped between them, trying to

    break it up.

    Hastings was too worried about Citrine to argue further. He gave a huff of frustration and stalked off down the hall.

    As soon as Hastings left, Theo followed after him without a word.

    Quentin shot Kali a bewildered look. Neither of them understood what was going on, but they hurried after Theo anyway.

    By the time Hastings found Citrine''s hospital room, the scene inside hit him like a punch to the gut.

    The girly motionless on the bed, a white sheet pulled halfway up her body. Around her, her family sobbed, voices breaking with grief and helplessness.

    Hastings''s heart plummeted. Clinging to a shred of hope, he grabbed a nurse nearby. "How is Citrine? Please, tell me she''s going to be okay, right?"

    The nurse, assuming Hastings was family, didn''t hide the truth. "She''s fading fast. I''m so sorry for your loss."

    The world spun. Hastings had to brace himself against the wall to keep from copsing.

    Not far away, Theo and Quentin had heard every word. It was impossible not to.

    All the color drained from Theo''s face. He looked utterly shattered, his voice barely more than a whisper. "She''s gone."

    "Gone? Who''s gone?" Quentin frowned, still not understanding.

    Hastings stood frozen at the doorway. He couldn''t bring himself to step inside- couldn''t even im the right to mourn her with her family.

    He felt utterly worthless. He didn''t even deserve to cry for her.

    Hastings turned away, lost in a daze, only to lock eyes with Theo in the hallway.

    A ck tide of hatred surged through him.

    He snapped. With a furious yell, he lunged and tackled Theo, pinning him to the ground. Hastings''s fists rained down, brutal and relentless, each punch fueled by raw pain.

    He didn''t hold back; every blow was meant to hurt.

    Theo, dazed and bleeding, felt

    nothing but emptiness inside. It hurt in a way he couldn''t exin, as if something vital had been ripped away He knew it was his fault he''d

    killed Citrine. So he let Hastings vent

    his rage. He didn''t fight back.

    "What the hell are you two doing? You''re supposed to be friends!" Quentin couldn''t believe how savage Hastings had be. Theo was bleeding everywhere. He rushed over and threw himself between them, trying to pull Hastings back. "Hastings, stop! We can talk this out, all right? Don''t do this-don''t throw away your friendship over this!"

    ?

    "Friends?" Hastings let out a bitterugh. He red at Theo, eyes cold as ice "From this day on, I''m done with you. We''re not friends anymore. Next time I see you, we''re enemies."

    He turned to Theo, his voice like steel. "If it weren''t for you and your father, none

    of this would''ve happened. You killed the woman I love, Theo. I''ll never forgive you."

    With that, Hastings slumped onto a nearby bench, ignoring Theopletely. Quentin''s eyes widened in shock. He bolted for the hospital room.

    Inside, the pale, lifeless face on the bed confirmed his worst fears. Citriney there, half-covered by the white sheet, her family weeping at her side. Now Quentin finally understood.

    The person shot by the sniper in the news-the one in camouge had been Citrine.

 Chapter 629

    Quentin stood by the hospital bed, staring nkly at the pale face before him, unable to tear his eyes away for a long time.

    He''d always told himself he hated her, so why did he feel this pang of sadness now?

    Without a word, Quentin slipped out of the room and sank onto a bench beside Hastings.

    While the three of them sat in heavy silence, Kali''s mood was anything but somber. The moment she confirmed Citrine was really dead, a sly smile curved her lips, her eyes sparkling with delight.

    If it weren''t for the three men present, Kali might''ve broken into a dance right there.

    That wretched girl was gone atst. No one would steal what was hers anymore. And now, surely, Hastings would fall for her again.

    The excitement bubbled up inside Kali until she couldn''t help but pull out her phone and share the good news with Jete.

    Kali texted: "Jete, guess what? Citrine Carmichael is dead."

    Jete replied almost instantly: "Are you serious?¡±

    Kali''s fingers trembled with glee as she typed back: "Of course. Come to Crestwood Medical Research Center right now and see for yourself."

    On the other end, Jete''s eyes lit up with an almost unnatural thrill. Without hesitation, she grabbed her things and hurried over.

    The sight that greeted Jete-Citrine lying lifeless in the hospital bed, her loved ones sobbing around her-filled her with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

    After a moment''s thought, she sent a message to her mother: "Mom, Citrine is dead. You cane back now."

    She wasn''t sure what her mother had been up totely-several of her messages had gone unanswered.

    Jete sighed, slipping her phone back into her pocket. As she looked up, she found herself face-to-face with Raymond, his expression thunderous, eyes cold and unyielding.

    A chill ran down Jete''s spine. She tried to turn away, but Raymond was already striding toward her.

    She stared at him, panic rising in her voice. "Ray-"

    Before she could finish, Raymond''s hand shot out, mping around her throat. His voice was a snarl: "You dare show your face here?"

    With brute force, he dragged her away from the doorway, lifting her bodily off the ground by her neck. Jete kicked and wed at his hand, desperate to break free.

    To Raymond, even touching her was revolting. Once they were out of the room, he flung her down onto the hallway floor as if discarding something filthy.

    "Get out of here," he spat, towering over her. "If you so much as look at my daughter again, I won''t hesitate to kill you."

    He red at her with such contempt, it was as if he were staring at garbage.

    The man''s insane, Jete thought, scrambling backward, one hand clutching her bruised neck.

    Kali considered stepping in to defend Jete, but the murderous glint in Raymond''s eyes made her freeze in ce.

    Meanwhile, Theo, Quentin, and Hastings were lost in their own grief, barely noticing themotion.

    Once Jete caught her breath, she wasted no time fleeing the hospital.

    Only then did Raymond turn his attention to the others in the hall He remembered all too well how they''d

    tormented his daughter in the

    past and now, in this life, Theo was

    still tied to her death.

    Without warning, Raymond stormed over, grabbed Theo by the cor, andnded

    a heavy blow.

    "You''re going to pay for what you did to my daughter!¡±

    He rained punches down on Theo,

    each one harder than thest-harder, even, than Hastings ever had. It looked as if Raymond might beat him to death, when Nathanael rushed in.

    "Mr. Carmichael, please! Stop!" Nathanael cried, throwing himself between them.

    Raymond paused, chest heaving, ring at the group with barely contained rage.

    "All of you get out of my sight. Don''t you dare defile my daughter''s memory." He shot them a look that promised violence, then forced himself to stay his hand-just barely.

 Chapter 630

    Hastings nced toward the hospital room, desperation etched across his face. "Mr. Carmichael, please could I stay?"

    The thought of not being allowed to remain by Citrine''s side was unbearable. Even so, he clung to a shred of hope and pleaded with Raymond.

    Raymond shot him a cold, withering look. "Get out. Citrine can''t stand you. Seeing you would only upset her."

    Hastings had bullied Citrine enough in the past-Raymond remembered every incident.

    Raymond didn''t realize how his words nearly shattered Hastings, leaving him breathless with pain.

    When no one moved, Nathanael surveyed the group, then calmly took out his phone and dialed security. "Send someone up. Get these men out of here."

    With that, Nathanael gently took Raymond''s arm and guided him back into the hospital room.

    He shut the door behind them and began clearing the cluster of people away from Citrine''s bedside. "Could everyone give us some space, please?"

    Raymond''s eyes lit up with hope. "Doctor, is there a chance? Can Citrine be saved?"

    Everyone stepped back at once, all eyes fixed expectantly on Nathanael, hanging on his every word.

    From somewhere, Nathanael produced a locked case-itstch had already been broken open. He set it on the table and opened it in full view.

    "This is a new medicine Citrine recently developed. I found it in herb."

    He pointed to a single white pill inside. His voice was steady but tinged with awe. "It''s called Deathflip Elixir. ording to her notes, it''s supposed to bring someone back from the brink."

    A spark of hope lit up every face in the room.

    Manley''s eyes were wide with anticipation. "So, if Citrine takes this, she might wake up?"

    Raymond and the others turned to Nathanael, waiting for confirmation.

    For a long moment, Nathanael said nothing.

    One by one, the glimmer of hope in their eyes began to fade.

    Finally, Nathanael spoke. "I found this in Citrine''sb. I can''t be sure the form isplete, but her notes im it can bring the dead back. I think it''s worth a try."

    Hope flickered back to life in the room.

    Raymond''s voice trembled with urgency. "Then what are we waiting for? Give it to her-now!"

    Nathanael nodded, gently cing the white pill in Citrine''s mouth and helping her swallow it with a little water.

    When he finished, he cautioned everyone, "We don''t know if it will work, or how long it might take. All we can do now is wait."

    When Hilda woke and heard the news, a spark of hope lit her eyes as well.

    The Death Tip Elixir gave everyone a reason to hope again. The gloom that had hung over the past days lifted over the next week, they took turns tending to Citrine, gently cleaning her and watching over her.

    Afraid she''d feel alone, someone was always by her bedside, talking to her every day.

    For a week, nothing changed-until, suddenly, Citrine''s vital signs began to return. Her fingers twitched.

    The moment they saw it, every single person in the room broke down in tears.

    Ever since they''d been thrown out of the research center a week ago, Hastings and Theo had tried sneaking back in several times, but never made it past the front doors.

    Eventually, they gave up.

    After news of Citrine''s death, Theo felt hollowed out, as if something essential had been ripped from him. He spiraled, spending his days chain-smoking and drinking, until hended himself in the hospital.

    al.ne

    He didn''t understand how he''d gotten this way. His own father had been sentenced to death because of Citrine, but Theo couldn''t bring himself to me her. If anything, he felt only guilt-and when he learned of her death, the pain nearly destroyed him.

    One night, hooked up to an IV in the hospital, Theo dreamed of Citrine.

    They were in his apartment, and in his dream, their kiss was desperate neither wanting to let go.

 Chapter 631

    That dream had haunted him countless times-those tender moments with Citrine, the closeness they once shared.

    He remembered it all so vividly: how they met, how they slowly got to know each other, how love took root and grew. Ten years together, from her eighteenth birthday until she turned twenty-eight. A whole decade of memories, all starting with a reckless bet.

    It was her eighteenth birthday¡ªa grand affair thrown by the Iversons, and Jete, the younger Iverson daughter, had spared no effort to look her best. She was at the center of it all, basking in the adoration of friends and family, her face glowing with happiness.

    But then, the eldest Iverson daughter entered the room, and in that instant, all eyes shifted. Just by standing there, Citrine stole the spotlight from Jete, making the birthday girl look utterly ordinary.

    Theo and his friends couldn''t help but stare at Citrine.

    "Wow, the Iversons'' eldest is stunning," one of them whispered, unable to hide his awe. ¡°She makes the younger one look like a backyard sparrow."

    "Honestly, next to her, Jete just fades into the background," another chimed in.

    "I rarely see the older Iverson girl at these parties," a third mused. "Jete''s always the one attending events with Mr. Iverson."

    "Don''t you know?" someone added in a lower voice. "She may have the looks, but the word is she''s a real piece of work. She''s adopted, too."

    "Yeah, people say the Iversons'' adopted daughter is ruthless. She''s always been jealous of Jete-the real Iverson heiress-and bullied her growing up. That''s what I''ve heard, anyway."

    "ssic femme fatale," someone concluded.

    Theo repeated the words quietly, "Femme fatale..." He found himself watching Citrine a little longer, unable to deny the effect her beauty had on him.

    Quentin, picking up on Theo''s interest, gave him a sly grin. "Theo, don''t tell me you''ve got your eye on the infamous femme fatale?"

    Their friends all turned to see how Theo would answer. With a crooked smile, he shrugged. "Wouldn''t be the worst thing to keep her around for some fun."

    Citrine was the adopted daughter of the Iversons never fully epted, not someone who''d ever be weed into a family like the Glenwoods. That was just how things were.

    Quentin nced over at Citrine, his expression mischievous. "Word is, she''s got quite the attitude. Turns her nose up at everyone. A few guys from our circle already tried to win her over, but she shot them all down."

    Quentin''s eyes lit up with a new idea. "How about we make this

    interesting, Theo? If you can get her to fall for you, I''ll give you a bigger cut in our next business deal What do you say?"

    Theo looked at the Iversons'' eldest, standing apart from the celebration, and let

    out a low whistle. "Deal. Winning over a girl like her? Child''s y."

    With that, Theo got up and, in full view of the group, strode across the room toward Citrine.

    Her beauty was even more striking up close. As their eyes met, Theo actually felt his breath catch, his heart skipping a beat.

    "Ms. Iverson, may I have the next dance?" he asked, holding her gaze, confident she would say yes.

    Instead, Citrine shot him a frosty look. Without a word, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

    Theo hadn''t expected rejection¡ªcertainly not outright dismissal. Being ignored like that felt worse than any "no," and he could feel his face burning with embarrassment.

    When he returned, Quentin and the others were practically doubled over withughter.

    "Well, well. Who would''ve thought Mr. Glenwood himself would get snubbed by an eighteen-year-old?" one of them teased.

    "Maybe you''re losing your touch, Theo. Can''t even handle a girl fresh out of school!" anotherughed.

    Theo scowled, refusing to let it go. "Just watch. I''m not giving up that easily."

    In the days that followed, he tried

    again and again to get close to Citrine. But she was utterly unmoved-polite but cold, never once

    9 him in, no matter how

    charming or persistent he tried to be.

 Chapter 632

    Theo had never met a woman as difficult as Citrine.

    Rather than discouraging him, her resistance only stoked his desire to win her

    over.

    But the more persistent Theo became, the more Citrine detested him.

    She decided to confront him head-on. "Mr. Glenwood, you''re wasting your time," she said bluntly. "Men like you are exactly the type I can''t stand. I don''t care what your motives are, but I''m warning you keep your distance."

    It was the first time anyone had loathed him so openly. Strangely, Theo found it amusing. Instead of backing off, he became even more determined.

    Yet Citrine''s attitude remained icy.

    One afternoon, amotion broke out by the indoor pool. Citrine was surrounded by a crowd, voices rising in heated argument. In the chaos, both she and Jete ended up tumbling into the water.

    Theo didn''t hesitate for a second-he dove straight in.

    All around, people shouted Jete''s name. The Iverson brothers, without a moment''s thought, jumped in after her too.

    Everyone was rushing to save Jete. A heaviness settled in Citrine''s chest; for

    a moment, she felt invisible, convinced she''d end up as nothing more than the butt of a joke at Jete''s birthday party. But then, suddenly, strong arms encircled her from behind, guiding her slowly up toward the surface.

    Startled, Citrine twisted around. Seeing the face behind her, she blinked in surprise.

    Once on solid ground, Theo, ever the gentleman, wrapped her in a towel and led her back to his suite.

    Though Citrine still didn''t care for him, her attitude softened a little after what he''d done. As she left, she managed a quiet, "Thank you."

    From then on, Theo seemed to find endless excuses to "run into" her, always trying to make her smile. Gradually, after months of persistence, they became a couple.

    At first, even after they started dating, Theo could sense that Citrine wasn''t truly fond of him. So, for the next two years, he handled every detail of her life with meticulous care.

    Then one day, he discovered that Citrine had RH-negative blood. Thoughts of his own sister, Kali, shed through his mind, and a daring idea took root.

    He deliberately put on quite a show in front of Citrine, pretending to drown his sorrows in drink over

    Kali''s illness. ying on Citrineset

    ????

    persuade her-without ever saying it outright-to be Kali''s regr blood donor.

    Even as she became Kali''s lifeline, Citrine never onceined. Each time she gave blood, she bit her lip and never let out a sound.

    She loved him deeply. Realizing this, Theo grew bold-almost reckless.

    Then, as fate would have it, Jete approached him one day with a keepsake locket. That was when he realized: Jete was the little girl who''d saved him years ago.

    Ovee with emotion, Theo began to treat Jete like family, just as he did with Kali.

    He spared no expense at an auction, bidding extravagantly to buy Jete a piece of fine jewelry.

    He started meeting up with Jete more and more, even introducing her to his closest friends.

    It wasn''t long before Citrine learned about how frequently Theo was seeing Jete.

    This sparked their first major fight-an explosive argument that only ended when Theo exined that Jete had once saved his life.

    Citrine thought that would be the end of it. But soon, arguments between the two

    of them becamemon, always because of Jete.

    Without realizing it, Theo''s loyalties shifted. He began to take Jete''s side, even criticizing Citrine on her behalf.

    Their rtionship cooled, little by little.

    Theo was convinced that Citrine

    loved him so much she''d never

    leave. Secure in that belief, he grew

    increasingly brazen. Even when Citrine was still around, he didn''t

    bother to hide his flirtatious behavior with Jete in front of friends. C¨®ntent

    Over time, it becamemon knowledge: Jete was Theo''s favorite His friends, his brothers-even the household staff took their cues from him.

    Citrine was all but invisible.

 Chapter 633

    Everyone said Citrine was hopelessly in love with him, that she''d do anything just to stay by his side.

    Theo believed this too, which only made him more brazen.

    He started joining forces with the Iversons to criticize Citrine, and in a twisted gesture of gratitude for Jete saving his life years ago, he even tried to persuade Citrine to donate a kidney to Jete.

    He never realized that this would be the final straw that broke whatever was left between them.

    That day, Citrine was the one who asked for a breakup.

    When Theo heard those words, he could hardly believe it. She was supposed to be obsessed with him-how could she be the one leaving?

    For the first time, fear crept into his heart.

    Of course, he didn''t agree to the breakup. Instead, they decided on a so-called "temporary separation."

    Theo thought she was just throwing a tantrum. But no matter how he pleaded, Citrine wouldn''t budge. She was resolute, determined to move out, and that night she packed up everyst thing and walked out of his apartment without looking back.

    Theo was left feeling scared and furious.

    He drank himself sick that night, and in a haze, promised the Iversons he would get Citrine''s kidney for Jete.

    A few dayster, Theo tricked Citrine intoing to the Glenwood Group hospital, iming he''d been injured.

    He ordered the doctor to prep her for surgery.

    When Citrine realized the betrayal, her world crumbled.

    What hurt most was that Theo wasn''t the only one behind it-Sawyer, her own father, was involved too.

    Betrayed by both her boyfriend and her father, Citrine''s hope was shattered.

    The surgery went ahead. Citrine''s kidney saved Jete, but her heart was left hollow.

    When it was over, Citrine cut Theo out of her life for good, blocking every way he could reach her.

    Theo never imagined it would end like this. Panic set in, and he scrambled to n an borate proposal, convinced he could win her back.

    Everything was ready, but Citrine was nowhere to be found. She''d vanished-no matter how hard he searched, there wasn''t the faintest trace of her.

    Theo searched until he broke down. When he finally tracked her down, she refused to see him.

    They stayed apart for an entire year-three hundred sixty-five days of slow- burning agony for Theo.

    That year in Crestwood, everyone whispered that Theo had gone mad for the sake of a woman.

    On Citrine''s birthday, he reserved the most romantic restaurant in town and decorated the ce himself for the

    proposal he''d never get to make.

    But the only thing that arrived that day was news of Citrine''s death.

    Theo lost itpletely.

    That was when he finally understood he had lost Citrine for good.

    He realized, toote, that he''d always held the upper hand in their rtionship.

    He''d been blind to everything Citrine

    had done for him: she was a prodigy

    with natural business talent, but

    she''d put it all aside to help him

    build Connections, design

    develop medicines for hispany-even cook for him, trying to make a home out of his chaos.

    After Citrine''s death, Theo snapped Bent on revenge, he wiped out the entire verson family, including

    o Cte. He didn''t even space his

    own sister, Kali.

    Once it was done, Theo took his own life.

    Suddenly, Theo jolted awake in his hospital bed, an IV dripping at his side.

    It all came rushing back-the memories of his past life, every excruciating detail.

    He was overwhelmed, horrified.

    How had ite to this? In this life, it hadn''t been the Iversons who destroyed Citrine it had been him and his father.

    How could things have gone so wrong?

    And yet, in his previous life, he and Citrine had gotten together at eighteen. In this

    one, they''d barely crossed paths. What had changed?

    Could it be that Citrine had been reborn too?

    As Theo pieced together the events of this life, everything pointed to one truth: Citrine hade back, just like him.

    No wonder everything was so different this time. No wonder fate had rewritten itself.

 Chapter 634

    Crestwood Medical Research Center

    That night, Citrine woke up.

    The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Raymond and Hilda sitting by her bedside.

    Though her body was frail and weak, the sight of her parents brought a soft light to her eyes. With effort, she managed a faint smile, a wave of warmth washing over her.

    "Dad... Mom.¡± Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she looked at them.

    Raymond was slumped forward on her bed. Usually so meticulous, he now had dark circles under his eyes, a rough stubble he hadn''t bothered to shave, and his suit was wrinkled and rumpled. He looked utterly haggard, the picture of exhaustion.

    Hilda, on the sofa nearby, seemed just as worn. Themanding presence she was known for had vanished, leaving only pallor and helplessness.

    They must have been keeping vigil for days. They must be exhausted, Citrine thought, her gaze softening with emotion.

    She struggled to reach for the light nket beside her, wanting to drape it over Raymond''s shoulders. Just as she was about to cover him, he stirred awake and sat up abruptly, sending the nket tumbling to the floor.

    "Citrine," he eximed, voice trembling with excitement. All traces of fatigue vanished from his face.

    Hilda, startled by themotion, woke as well. She looked toward the bed, then leapt up, barely holding back tears.

    "Citrine, you''re awake!"

    Her eyes were red-rimmed, her voice thick with emotion as she staggered to the bedside.

    "Dad... Mom," Citrine repeated, her voice as soft as before.

    "Oh, Dad''s here. I''m here, sweetheart," Raymond replied, his joy overflowing. He reached over, gently stroking her hair, his eyes full of tenderness and relief.

    "She finally called me Mom-oh, I''m so happy." Hilda could hardly believe it, her voice trembling, tears threatening to spill.

    Citrine looked at them, her voice weak but sincere. "Thank you... for staying with me."

    "Silly girl, of course we did. We''re your parents. Don''t talk

    anymore-rest, please. It hurts me to

    see you like this," Hilda said quickly, ovee with worry as Citrine''s words grew fainter.

    Hilda stayed by her side while Raymond hurried out to fetch the hospital director and the surgeon who had operated on Citrine.

    When the director and the medical team arrived and saw Citrine awake, they were stunned, then overjoyed They quickly performed a check-up, and only when they were sure she was out of danger did they finally breathe easy.

    The next day, word spread quickly. The Carmichaels and the Saunders families were ecstatic, moring to visit Citrine.

    Worried about overcrowding the room, Raymond only allowed two people in at a time, so everyone took turns visiting.

    With Citrine awake, the gloom that had hung over everyone seemed to lift. Life returned to the halls; jokes andughter echoed again.

    Weston even found the energy to bicker with his son and grandson, just as he always had.

    The mood was jubnt, when suddenly Nathanael entered, leading a stern-faced older man.

    "Who''s that?" someone whispered, as everyone looked over.

    No one recognized the old gentleman, but the man following close behind was familiar-Sherman, the same man who had caused a stir during the rescue, holding Citrine without a care for the setting. The

    memory was still fresh in everyone''s minds.

    Nathanael, showing the utmost respect, brought the older man forward and introduced him to the group.

    "Everyone, this is the chairman''s grandfather."

 Chapter 635

    Weston''s eyes widened in disbelief, his re sharp and unkind as he stared down the elderly gentleman standing beside Nathanael. ¡°Grandfather? Are you kidding me? I''m right here! What makes this old man think he''s Citrine''s grandfather?"

    He could have understood if it were Inez or Herschel, but this stranger? He''d never even seen the man before, didn''t have the faintest clue where he''d sprung from-yet the moment he appeared, he was iming to be Citrine''s grandfather.

    Weston was her real grandfather, her only grandfather by blood. And to make matters worse, Citrine had never even called him Grandpa. Hmph. What right did this old codger have?

    Trying to steal his granddaughter? Over his dead body.

    Nathanael almost forgot, for a split second, that Weston Carmichael was the chairman''s true grandfather. He shot an awkward nce at Ogden, standing

    nearby.

    Ogden''s expression was stone-cold, his silence icy and foreboding, like the calm before a storm.

    Nathanael knew better than to provoke either of these titans.

    The tension in the room was so thick it was suffocating, as if the air itself had frozen.

    Nathanael''s gaze darted nervously between the two men, painfully aware of the awkwardness.

    He swallowed hard and attempted a weak smile, fumbling for an exnation. "Mr. Ogden and the chairman have known each other for a very long time. She''s always... held him in high regard¡ª¡±

    Ogden cut him off before he could finish. "Nathanael, there''s no need to exin anything to them."

    He turned his steely eyes on Weston and those standing behind him, letting out a coldugh. ¡°I should have insisted that Citrinee live with me in Crestwood from the start. I thought the Carmichaels would take good care of her, but it''s been less than two years and you''ve already managed tond her in the hospital."

    The rebuke was unmistakable in his voice. He couldn''t believe it-he''d only been out of the country for a short while, and in his absence, his precious granddaughter had nearly lost her life.

    No one could possibly understand the pain he felt when he got that call from Nathanael.

    He''d dropped everything, chartered a private jet, and flown straight home.

    The Carmichaels, already wracked with guilt over Citrine, fell silent, unable to say

    a word in their defense after Ogden''s usation.

    Weston had been about to protest Ogden seeing Citrine, but Raymond grabbed his arm and held him back.

    In the end, Nathanael led Ogden alone into Citrine''s hospital room.

    Citrine was just about to rest when she heard someone enter. Assuming it was a nurse, she croaked out

    You close the curtains? I need

    some sleep."

    Even on the battlefield, she''d never been wounded this badly before.

    Ogden had never seen Citrine so frail; his eyes welled up with

    and he turned away, quitearet

    his face before anyone could notice.

    No one knew how frightened he''d been when Nathanael told him to brace himself for the worst.

    She was his granddaughter-maybe not by blood, but their bond ran deeper than any blood tie.

    Ogden motioned for Nathanael to leave them alone.

    Once Nathanael had gone, Ogden sat quietly by the bedside, saying nothing, simply watching Citrine.

    It had been several moments since Citrine had asked for the curtains to be closed, but the nurse hadn''t moved.

    Puzzled, she cracked her eyes open, only to find the old man sitting there.

    "Hey, old man, what are you doing here?" Citrine''s eyes shed, her voice tinged with surprise and emotion.

    Ogden was still shaken, his eyes red as he grumbled, ¡°Hmph. What, you wish I hadn''te?"

    Citrine gave a weakugh. "No way. I''m thrilled you''re here¡ª"

    Before she could finish, Ogden pressed a hand gently over her mouth, his tone stern. "Don''t say that word." Right now, he could hardly bear to hear it.

    Citrine realized she must have given him quite a scare this time, and for once, she

    obeyed without protest. "Okay, okay, I won''t."

    Only then did Ogden relent.

    But he wasn''t about to let her off the hook so easily. He still had a few sharp

    words left for her:

 Chapter 636

    "You little rascal! The moment I''m out of sight, you stop taking care of yourself. Raymond''s your father-if he can''t protect you, that''s his failure, and now you''re the one taking bullets for him? What kind of father is that? If you ask me, you should juste live with me. Sure, I''m getting on in years, but I could keep you plenty safe."

    Citrine knew her grandfather worried about her, so she didn''t take offense.

    She smiled and said, "Grandpa, Raymond isn''t useless. He''s my dad. I''m happy I can protect him."

    And she meant every word of it.

    "Dad?" For a moment, Ogden''s face was unreadable, but at that single word, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.

    He stared at her. "You little rascal, have you really epted Raymond?"

    Citrine''s smile softened. "They''ve been really good to me. With them, I finally feel the love I always wanted."

    Ogden nodded slowly.

    He''d rescued this girl when she was fourteen, all alone in another country. From that day, he''d raised her himself. In those years, the bond between grandfather and granddaughter had been unbreakable; they understood each other better than anyone else in the world.

    Ogden knew better than anyone how hard it was to get through to her. When he first met her, she''d been like a wild cub-skittish, impossible to read, putting up walls with everyone, even him. It had taken more than a year of patience and persistence before she finally let him in.

    Now, seeing her ept the Carmichaels into her heart, Ogden couldn''t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Soon, she''d have more family, even another grandpa.

    But more than anything, he was happy for her. His darling girl deserved all the love she could get.

    The old resentment Ogden felt toward the Carmichaels faded a little. If Citrine was willing to open up to them, then they must have treated her well.

    He looked at Citrine, emotions swirling inside him. After a moment, he cleared his throat and said, "Well, Citrine, looks like you''ve got yourself a real grandpa now."

    He didn''t bother to hide the hint of envy in his voice.

    Citrine burst outughing. "You old man, you''ll always be my grandpa. Don''t get jealous, okay?"

    "You always know how to get your way with words," Ogden huffed, though a smile tugged at his lips.

    "I mean it," Citrine replied, grinning sincerely.

    Ogden shot her a re, but suddenly got mischievous. "Alright then, let me ask you this: if both Weston and I fell into a river at the same time, who would you save?"

    Citrine almost groaned at the ridiculousness of it, but kept her

    patience. "That scenario does

    any sense. There''s no way

    both fall in at the same time."

    "I said, what if?" Ogden insisted, stubborn as ever.

    "There is no ''what if," Citrine replied, unruffled.

    "I don''t care, you have to pick one!" Ogden was relentless.

    "I''m not choosing," Citrine shook her head, refusing to y along.

    Ogden, still nursing that old

    insecurity about not being her "real" grandfather, got huffy when she didn''t give him the answer he wanted. "Ah, I see how it is!

    vel

    Heartless little rascal. You''re just going to leave me to drown, aren''t you?"

    Citrine protested, "I am not! That''s not fair!"

    Ogden clutched his chest in mock agony, dramatically moaning, "This pain-oh, it''s too much. You''d better prepare for my funeral, youngdy. If my heart shatters, you''ll regret it, but it''ll be toote-no one cares about love thates after the fact."

    Citrine could only stare at him, speechless.

    After a moment, she said, dead serious, "Grandpa, I think the first thing you need

    to do is delete those trashy romance novels from your phone."

 Chapter 637

    As expected, this stubborn girl really was born to be his nemesis.

    Ogden was practically fuming, his face set in a hard scowl as he prepared to walk away. Just then, Citrine tugged gently at his sleeve and spoke with heartfelt sincerity.

    "Grandpa, you''re the one who saved me and raised me. You taught me everything I know about the world, shaped me into a capable officer. Without you, I wouldn''t be who I am today. We may not be rted by blood, but you''re even closer to me than family."

    "Even though I''ve found my biological rtives, you''ll always be the grandpa I love most."

    Ogden''s eyes grew misty, a bittersweet ache stirring in his chest. "You little rascal, you really can drive me up the wall sometimes. But when you get sentimental like this, I can''t ever stay mad at you."

    He tried to sound annoyed, but truthfully, Ogden was quietly delighted-practically bursting with pride. After all, she''d said it herself: he was the grandpa she loved most. With just those words, he''d dly do anything for her.

    Maybe these romance novels were good for something after all. He''d have to keep reading¡ªmaybe even buy a subscription and pick up a few new tricks.

    Ogden ended up staying in the room nearly the entire morning. Sherman waited outside, slumped and miserable, not knowing when his turn to see Citrine would finallye. The wait felt endless.

    Atst, Ogden emerged. Sherman barely paused to announce himself before rushing inside.

    A group of people loitered outside the room, each wearing an expression of thinly veiled annoyance.

    The original n had been simple: everyone would take turns spending an hour with Citrine. But with Ogden and Sherman barging in, no one else had managed to get so much as a foot in the door.

    Ogden and Sherman always seemed busy, and the Carmichaels, noticing this, felt secretly pleased. All they had to do was wait for these two to leave, and then they could keep Citrinepany every day. But reality soon proved them far too optimistic.

    Over the next few days, Citrine''s friends, her professors, and anyone hoping to curry favor with the CICI Group all showed up at the hospital to visit.

    Ever since Talbot''s arrest, no one was profiting from the flu epidemic anymore, and soon, the patients started recovering. The research center closed its special influenza ward.

    After the news broke about Talbot''s kidnapping plot, Citrine''s name was suddenly everywhere. The inte buzzed with praise for her courage, intellect, kindness, and filial devotion-every admirable quality seemed to be pinned on her.

    She''d performed surgeries on many patients during the flu outbreak, so plenty of people recognized her.

    Before long, word spread online

    Citrine wasn''t just the researcher who''d developed the flu treatment,

    but

    talso the chairwoman of the research center and its most aplished physician.

    The media coverage even went international.

    Now,panies from around the world-and even high-profile figures from various countries-were reaching out to CICI Group, eager to coborate.

    Every day, a steady stream of well-wishers flowed through the hospital. The Carmichaels and the Saunders hadn''t managed to get into Citrine''s room for days in a row.

    If things went on like this, Citrine would bepletely overwhelmed. That very day, she asked Nathanael to move her to a new room and put a stop to unrted visitors. Atst, she had a little peace and quiet.

    But the calm didn''tst long. Sawyer showed up at the hospital, bringing Norton Iverson and Clifford Iverson with him.

    A few months earlier, the three of them had remembered everything from their previous lives. They''d desperately wanted to see Citrine and apologize, but none of them could bring themselves to face her.

    It wasn''t until the recent news reports that they realized how much had happened. For several days now, the three had been staking out the hospital, hoping for a chance to see her. The medical staff refused to reveal which room she was in, so all they could do was wait.

    That day, Raymond and Hilda were just heading out to pick up some medication

    for their daughter when they ran right into the Iverson trio.

 Chapter 638

    Raymond and Hilda stopped in their tracks at the exact same moment.

    Both of them had just witnessed Citrine''s entire life in a dream. The overwhelming pain of Citrine''s past life¡ªall of it could be traced back to the handful of people standing here.

    And the chief culprit was Sawyer.

    Raymond couldn''t wrap his head around it. How could anyone treat a kind- hearted girl like Citrine so cruelly? Did Sawyer''s family have any shred of decency left?

    "Raymond!" Sawyer, who had been desperately searching for Citrine''s hospital room, suddenly spotted him and hurried over, a look of relief shing in his eyes.

    He rushed forward, grabbing Raymond''s arm with anxious hands. "Where''s Citrine? Please, let me see her. I just want to know if she''s alright."

    Raymond''s expression turned icy, and he was just about to shove Sawyer away when Hilda beat him to it. Without hesitation, she pped Sawyer hard across the face.

    Her eyes were red with fury and resentment as she red at him. "You''ve got the nerve to mention Citrine? You think you deserve to even say her name?"

    She shot a scathing look at the three people before her, her voice cold and sharp. "Listen to me, Sawyer. As long as I''m alive in Crestwood, you''ll never have a ce here. I''ll make damn sure of that."

    Sawyer knew full well he was scum, and he didn''t even try to defend himself. He just stood there, letting Hilda vent her rage.

    When Hilda finally finished, Sawyer spoke, his tone serious and steady. "I need to see Citrine."

    Raymond let out a bitterugh, clenching his jaw in contempt. "Who do you think you are? What right do you have to see my daughter? I told you before-don''t ever show your face to me or my daughter again. Or have you already forgotten?" Sawyer''s gaze darkened. He knew he had no right, but right now, all that mattered was knowing if Citrine was okay.

    He had failed her once in a past life; this time, he would do anything to make it right.

    "I''m begging you, please," Sawyer''s voice trembled, raw and pleading. "I just want to know how she''s doing."

    "You''re disgusting," Raymond spat, a wave of nausea rising in his chest. Without another word, he swung his fist,nding it squarely on Sawyer''s face.

    Raymond didn''t hold back. Blow after blownded with brutal force, his eyes wild with fury.

    All he could think about was the hell Sawyer had put Citrine through before. Right now, Raymond wanted nothing more than to beat him to death.

    The murderous rage in his eyes only grew.

    "It''s my fault, I failed Citrine. Kill me if you want," Sawyer forced himself to stand his ground, refusing to fight back, even as Raymond''s fists kepting.

    Blood spattered across Sawyer''s face and shirt. The more blood Raymond saw, the more exhrated he became.

    "Go to hell!" Raymond''s voice was hoarse with rage. "If you''re dead, you can never hurt Citrine again¡ªshe''ll finally have peace."

    Raymond waspletely losing control, Hilda, terrified that things would go too far, grabbed his arm to stop him. "Raymond, that''s enough! Any more and you''ll kill him!"

    "Let me finish him!" Raymond was almost crazed with anger.

    "No! If you kill him, you''ll be the one paying the price. If anything happens to you,Citrine will be devastated." Hilda''s voice trembled, but she stood her ground.  fo

    As much as she wished Sawyer would just disappear, she couldn''t let Raymond-Citrine''s beloved father-throw his life away for it. If he ended up in prison because of this, it would break Citrine''s heart.

    So Hilda put herself squarely between the two men, blocking Raymond from

    attacking again.

    At the mention of his daughter, Raymond finally regained his senses.

    "Come on. Let''s go," Hilda said, steering Raymond away.

    But as they started to leave, Sawyer''s face twisted with desperation. He suddenly

    dropped to his knees, the sound echoing down the hallway.

    "Raymond, I''m begging you-let me see Citrine. I just want to know if she''s alright."

    Raymond nearlyughed in disbelief. He turned, his re sharp as ice. "Citrine is my daughter. If you want to know anything about her, keep dreaming."

 Chapter 639

    Raymond''s face was set in stone as he turned to leave, but just then, Clifford and Norton stepped forward.

    Norton spoke first. "Mr. Carmichael, we just want to know how Citrine is doing. That''s all."

    Clifford chimed in, his voice anxious. "Please, sir. We''re both worried about her. We just want to know if she''s all right."

    The two of them looked at Raymond with pleading eyes, their tone humble, almost desperate, as if they wouldn''t leave without an answer.

    Raymond''s stomach churned with disgust as he looked at them. In hisst life, it was Citrine who had saved these two ingrates, yet they had always treated Jete like a beloved little sister and hurt Citrine time and again, all for Jete''s sake.

    There wasn''t a single decent person in the Iverson family.

    Raymond''s stare was icy as he said, "Get out. You don''t deserve to see Citrine."

    Without another word, he signaled for security to throw them out.

    The three men-father and sons-stood outside, looking ashen and utterly defeated, like the wind had been knocked right out of them.

    "Let''s go," Sawyer said quietly, his voice bleak. "Citrine probably doesn''t want to see us anyway." Something seemed to flicker across his mind-a sudden realization.

    Everything in this life was ying out so differently from before. And it wasn''t just them; it almost felt as if Citrine had lived through it all before too.

    "But we still don''t know how she really is," Norton said, hesitation and worry in his voice.

    Clifford nodded, echoing him. "Yeah, Dad. We haven''t even seen her. We have to try again. We can''t just give up and leave."

    Sawyer looked at his sons, his tone serious. "Judging by the way Raymond acted just now, Citrine must be out of danger by now."

    "If she weren''t, Raymond wouldn''t have just lost his temper. He might have actually killed me," Sawyer added, his face grim.

    He knew all too well how much Raymond loved Citrine. As much as it pained him

    to admit, Raymond truly was a good father.

    Norton hesitated. "But Dad, I still want to see her. I have to."

    Clifford nodded again, his face earnest. "Me too. We let Citrine down in ourst life. This time, I want to make things right. After everything that''s happened, the least we can do is see her-make sure she''s okay."

    Brothers through and through, Clifford clearly felt the same as Norton.

    Sawyer looked at them both for a long moment before speaking. "Have you ever considered that Citrine might not want to see us? She hates everyone in the Iverson family. She has every reason to."

    The wordsnded like a heavy blow. Norton and Clifford''s faces froze, and for a long time, neither could say a word.

    Seeing their reaction, Sawyer went on. "Citrine has lived through all this before. She''se back too."

    Both Norton and Clifford were stunned speechless.

    Sawyer ignored their shock and continued, "Ever since we used Citrine of pushing Jete, she cut us offpletely. She''s never looked at any of us the same way again."

    As he spoke, memories shed across Norton and Clifford''s minds-moments they''d ignored or forgotten.

    It was true. After that day, Citrine never reached out to Norton again. Even though they still attended the same school, she barely acknowledged Clifford''s existence.

    Everything had been set in motion long ago, but they''d been too blind-or too foolish-to see it.

    Sawyer''s voice was steady as he continued, "Back then, Citrine used to visit Grandfather regrly. She''d help him manage his health, cared for him more than the three of you ever did. But after what happened, she never went to see him again. She didn''t evene to his funeral."

    As Sawyer finished, something clicked for Norton. He remembered things from

    when their grandfather was ill, and recent news stories he''d seen online.

    His gaze darkened as he hesitated, then finally asked, "Citrine is the chairwoman of Viridis Medical

    Institute and Crestwood Medicamet

    Research Center, isn''t she? So she must have known about Grandfather''s chronic illness all

    along. She was secretly looking after him, wasn''t she?"

 Chapter 640

    Later, she refused to help the old man recover, nor would she agree to send him to Viridis Medical Institute. All of this was because she had memories from her previous life¡ªshe remembered how he had once forced her to give up her kidney for Jete. That must be the reason, right?

    Sawyer nodded. "Yes. She hates us-hates every single member of the Iverson family. That''s why she doesn''t want to save the old man."

    Norton and Clifford stood frozen, unable to speak for a long time.

    Sawyer looked at them and let out a long sigh. "We''ve wronged Citrine. She did nothing wrong. Every one of us in the Iverson family has guilt on our hands."

    Norton and Clifford could only agree with him.

    Over the next few days, Hastings and Theo used all their old connections to find out how Citrine was doing. When they learned that she was finally out of danger, both men breathed a sigh of relief.

    After more than two months in the hospital, Citrine''s health indicators finally returned to normal, and she was discharged that very day.

    This ordealpletely erased the distance that had once existed between Citrine, Raymond, and Hilda. After spending two months together, she had grown much closer to both of them.

    But when it was time to leave the hospital, a new conflict red up between Raymond and Hilda.

    Both parents wanted their daughter toe home with them, and they argued nearly the entire morning about it. In the end, Citrine, unable to stand it any longer, suggested she simply take turns staying at each house.

    The first month was set to be with the Carmichaels. On the day Citrine was to leave the hospital, the Carmichael family had their car ready and waiting. But just as Citrine finished her discharge paperwork, news arrived: the Carmichaels'' overseas business had hit a snag, and Raymond had to fly out of the country immediately.

    He''d looked forward to having his daughter home atst, hoping to spend time with her after all she''d been through. Now, with work emergencies pulling him away, he felt a pang of guilt. "I''m so sorry, Citrine. Something''se up with the business abroad, and I have to be away for a while."

    Citrine smiled reassuringly. ¡°It''s all right, Dad, really. Go take care of what you need to I''ll stay with Mom."

    Raymond hated to leave his daughter, but there was no choice. He ruffled her hair affectionately. "I''ll be back as soon as I can, I promise."

    Citrine grinned. "I''ll be waiting."

    Unlike Raymond, whose face was full of worry, Hilda and Monica Wade could barely hide their excitement.

    Hilda beamed at Raymond. "Don''t worry-Citrine will be well looked after with me. You go deal with your business."

    Honestly, the timing was

    perfect the Carmichael family''s et

    Hilda was practically wishing Raymond would leave right that instant.

    Of course, Raymond saw right through her. He gave her a wry smile but let it go withoutment.

    Before he left, Raymond made sure to remind Hilda about all of Citrine''s habits and preferences, especially when it came to meals and daily routines. Only after carefully going through everything did he reluctantly take his leave.

    Hilda was practically glowing with happiness as she brought her daughter back to Saunders Mansion.

    Monica and Wade could hardly contain their excitement.

    Not only did this mean they could finally spend time with their sister, but there was another reason for their joy with Citrine at home, someone could finally keep their aunt in check. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn''t be so unpredictable and overbearing anymore.

    They could hardly imagine how much happier life at home was about to be.

 Chapter 641

    Word had gotten around that their daughter was bringing her little girl to stay at

    the old family home, so Herschel and Inez Saunders had woken up early to clear out the master bedroom, transforming it into a space that would make any young person feel right at home.

    They didn''t even want the housekeeper to lift a finger-every detail, every corner of the room, they arranged themselves.

    By the time they finished, both were out of breath but beaming with happiness.

    Inez, though she''d met her granddaughter before, still felt a flutter of nerves. "Do you think she''ll like how we fixed up the room?" she asked, smoothing her hair as she turned to Herschel.

    Herschel chuckled. "If she doesn''t, we''ll just change it again. We''ll keep at it until our darling is satisfied."

    Inez nodded, then paused, suddenly self-conscious. She fussed with her hair again and asked, "Does my makeup look alright? She''ll be here any minute, and as her grandmother, I want my girl to have the best impression of me."

    Herschel tried not to roll his eyes, answering patiently, "You look fine. Honestly, this isn''t your first time meeting our granddaughter-why are you so nervous?"

    Inez shot him a scolding look. "What do you know? This is Citrine''s first time back home, and the first time we''re seeing her as family. She needs to feel just how much she means to us."

    They were still bickering when Nathalie, the housekeeper, came running in, all excitement.

    "Mr. and Mrs. Saunders, your daughter''s arrived with the little one!"

    Herschel and Inez sprang to their feet, anticipation lighting up their faces.

    Momentster, Hilda entered, hand in hand with her daughter.

    "Mom, Dad, I''ve brought Citrine home."

    Hilda led Citrine in, with Monica and Wade following close behind, both grinning from ear to ear.

    Tears welled up in Inez''s eyes. "My precious girl, you''re finally home. Come here, let Grandma take a look at you."

    "Grandpa, Grandma." Citrine looked up at the two kindly-faced elders, stepped forward, and offered them a gentle, perfectly poised smile.

    "Oh, sweetheart." Inez''s voice trembled with emotion.

    She couldn''t help but recall what the child had been through recently, making her heart ache. "It''s enough that you''re home. That''s all that matters."

    "You''ve only just gotten out of the hospital, you still look palee, sit down." Worried Citrine might be tired, Inez immediately led her over to the couch.

    Citrine let herself be led, settling beside her grandmother.

    Herschel, not sure how much the girl knew about the Saunders n, decided to give her a proper introduction.

    "Citrine, let Grandpa tell you a bit about the family. Besides your mom, we have three sons-your uncles. Your eldest uncle, Mack Saunders, is Monica''s father. He also has a son, your cousin Gorman. Your second uncle, Levi Saunders, is Wade''s dad. And your youngest uncle, Nigel Saunders, well... he''s still single at his age, so let''s just leave it at that."

    "Your Uncle Mack runs C. Corp''s overseas branches, so he''s rarely home. Uncle Levi, well, he''s

    something of a wanderer-travels the world, no fixed address, nobody knows when he''ll turn up. Your youngest uncle, Nigel, is an artist. He''spletely obsessed with his painting and lives in Crestwood, but he''s always lost in his own world and neveres home. Your grandma and I have just learned to live with it."

    By the time Herschel finished, Citrine had a pretty good grasp of the Saunders family tree.

    Seeing how sweet and

    well-mannered his granddaughter was, Herschel''s heart melted.

    Smiling, he said, "Darling, in a femet

    days, we''ll be hosting a family gathering to introduce you to the rest of the Saunders n. When the timees, I''ll make sure you meet everyone properly."

 Chapter 642

    "Thank you, Grandpa," Citrine said politely.

    Watching Herschel and his granddaughter chatting away for so long, Inez couldn''t help feeling a twinge of jealousy. "Alright, it''s time to save the family reunion for when Citrine''s feeling better. For now, let me show you the bedroom I''ve prepared for you, Citrine."

    She smiled. ¡°Would you like Grandma to take you upstairs to see your room?"

    "Yes, please." Citrine''s lips curved in a gentle smile as she rose from the sofa. Herschel blinked in disbelief. Wasn''t it supposed to be their bedroom for Citrine, set up together? When did it be just Inez''s project?

    Hilda followed Inez upstairs. The moment she saw the room prepared for her daughter, she froze in surprise.

    This had once been her parents'' master bedroom-the biggest room in the old house, with the best views. She''d never expected her parents would give up their own room so Citrine could have it.

    Even Citrine paused in the doorway. She''d noticed from outside that this was the sunniest, most enviable room in the entire vi.

    And inside, the furniture and d¨¦cor were all in the modern style young people loved-though here and there, some quirky, old-fashioned touches peeked through, a little out of step with current trends. But Citrine could feel the care behind it all; it was obvious her grandparents had decorated the ce themselves, just for her, before she arrived.

    She turned, about to say something, when she caught sight, quite by ident, of the red mark on Inez''s palm. Citrine pressed her lips together, a wave of bittersweet emotion rising in her chest.

    When her granddaughter didn''t say anything for a while, Inez asked, softly and a little anxiously, "Citrine, do you like it?"

    Worried Citrine might just be pretending to be pleased, Inez hurried to add, "If you don''t, that''s perfectly alright-we''ll fix it up however you want, sweetheart."

    The gentle care and affection in her grandmother''s words touched Citrine deeply. She smiled. "I love it, Grandma. Thank you-and thank you, Grandpa, too."

    "That''s all I wanted to hear." Inez beamed, her spirits instantly lifted by Citrine''s approval.

    Upstairs, the mood was warm and joyful. Down the hall, Monica and Wade retreated to their bedroom-and felt as if the sky had fallen.

    The sight that greeted them left both in shock.

    All their limited-edition furniture and prized decorations had vanished, reced by the family''s cast-off, outdated pieces.

    At the same moment, a shrill screech echoed from the other side of the house.

    "Ahhh!"

    Wade was nearly hysterical at the scene before him.

    Monica heard themotion and dashed over to Wade''s room. "What''s with the yelling? What happened?"

    Wade looked utterly devastated. "Did someone break in? All my model cars are gone!"

    Monica finally took a good look and realized Wade''s room, too, had been stripped and reced with the same ancient furniture and questionable d¨¦coras hers. It was as if both

    rooms had been ransacked by

    someone with truly terrible taste.

    Looking closer, she realized both rooms now looked exactly the same equally hideous.

    Wade was beside himself. "Those

    were farest collectibles! I

    up for ages to buy those

    supposed to live without

    "That''s it, I''m calling the police. I have to." Wade whipped out his phone.

    Monica burst outughing. "The police? Are you out of your mind? You want to get smacked?"

    She snatched the phone out of his hands. "Come upstairs and see for yourself."

    This wasn''t a burry-it was a clean sweep.

    When they made it upstairs, they found their missing furniture and decorations proudly disyed in the bedroom Grandma had set up for their little sister. Wade''s prized racecar models now sat in the ce of honor, right in front of the TV.

 Chapter 643

    Everyone was in high spirits-mainly because Monica and Wade had shouldered all the trouble themselves.

    Citrine''s health had improved, but she still couldn''t overexert herself. Herschel and Inez, worried about tiring out their granddaughter, made sure she was settled in before quietly leaving the room.

    Out in the hallway, Wade called after them in a intive voice, "Grandpa, Grandma, when you set up Citrine''s room, did you really have to wreck ours in the process? You shoulde and see what our rooms look like now!"

    Inez frowned in annoyance. "What''s wrong with your rooms? Your grandpa and I were nice enough to get you both new furniture. Don''t tell me you''re ungrateful." "New furniture?" Wade almostughed from sheer exasperation.

    Trying to keep his temper in check, he said, "Grandma, do you mean those two sets of old mahogany furniture you and Grandpa got tired of ten years ago?"

    Herschel and Inez exchanged a look and said nothing.

    Their silence spoke volumes.

    Wade was getting worked up. "Grandpa, Grandma, you could have ordered custom pieces or at least bought something new for Citrine. Did you really have to strip our rooms bare?"

    Inez gave a dismissive snort. "You think I didn''t want to? Most new furniture these days has all kinds of chemicals in it-formaldehyde and who knows what else. What if it affected my darling granddaughter''s health? Your stuff is much safer."

    Wade let out a halfugh, half-sigh. "So basically, Grandma, you''re saying what happens to me and Monica doesn''t matter?"

    Wade had always been at the bottom of the family totem pole. Monica never imagined she''d end up in the same boat. For a moment, she didn''t know whether tough or cry at her predicament.

    Over the next few days, Hilda stayed home and worked remotely instead of going to the office. Monica skipped work as well, and even Wade-normally the wildest, most restless soul in the house was suddenly on his best behavior, hanging around at home all day.

    One night, Wade''s friends called, trying to drag him out for a night of reckless driving. Wade didn''t even hesitate. "Nah, I''m not going."

    There was a chorus of protest on the other end. "Come on, Mr. Saunders! It''s not a race without you."

    Another voice chimed in, "Wade, what''s up with youtely? Count how many times you''ve turned us down."

    Then, as if struck by a thought, someone asked, "Wait, Wade, you never hang out anymore-don''t tell me you''re seeing someone behind our backs?"

    Wade nearly choked on his snack and coughed furiously. "Don''t talk nonsense."

    "Then why are you always busy? If you''re not dating, what''s your excuse?" the

    other guy teased.

    Wade

    Si on pehat do you know?

    I''ve

    Sto spend time with my littet

    every day now. I don''t have

    to mess around with you guys."

    Wade''s friends all knew a bit about the Saunders family, so this news surprised

    them. ¡°Little sister? Did your aunt finally find her daughter?"

    "Yep," Wade replied, grinning with pride.

    "Hey, you''ve got to bring her out to meet us sometime," someone said with augh.

    Wade puffed up even more. "Keep dreaming. She''s my little sister."

    Just then, a clear, melodic voice called out from the other room, "Wade,e y video games with me!"

    On the other end of the line, Wade''s friends fell silent, absolutely stunned.

    Damn, Wade''s sister''s voice was unreal-like something out of a dream.

    Everyone was still dazed by Citrine''s voice when Wade replied, his usual cocky swagger gone, now gentle and doting: "Coming!"

    Then, turning back to the phone, he

    said impatiently, "Gotta go y. games with my sister. You losers without sisters don''t even deserve to talk to me."

 Chapter 644

    That evening, Citrine roped Monica and Wade into a marathon of Titan

    Showdown. Monica and Wade barely had to do a thing-just trailing after their little sister was enough to rack up win after win. By the time they called it a night, both had managed to level up, a feat they''d been stuck on for ages.

    Monica grinned, practically bouncing in her seat. "Citrine, what do you say we go out for some barbecue to celebrate?"

    She and Wade had been stuck at this level forever, so finally breaking through had Monica buzzing with excitement. The idea of a celebration dinner popped out before she could stop herself.

    Citrine''s eyes lit up. "Sure, I''m in," she said without missing a beat.

    Wade, loyal as ever, nodded right along. "If my sister''s going, I''m going."

    Wade had basically be the world''s most devoted little brother-if Citrine said jump, he''d ask how high. He was more loyal than a family dog.

    As the three of them started making ns, the doorbell suddenly rang.

    Assuming someone from the family hade home, Wade hurried over and swung the door open.

    But the sight that greeted him made his face drop. In a split second, he mmed the door shut.

    Toote. Curry ck and three of his friends had already wedged a foot in the doorway and barged inside.

    "What''s this, Mr. Saunders? You''re not happy to see us?" Curry grinned, eyes darting past Wade as he tried to peer inside.

    Wade red. "What are you looking at?"

    One of Curry''s buddies piped up from behind, grinning like a fool. "Hey, we just wanted to meet your sister, man."

    Wade gritted his teeth. "You guys are unbelievable. That''s my sister. I''m warning you-get lost."

    "Come on, don''t be like that. We''re already here, just let us say hi to your sister."

    "We''re your best buddies, aren''t we? Your sister deserves all of us looking out for her."

    Looking out for her, my ass, Wade thought, his temper ring. "Have you guys no shame at all?"

    "Lost it years ago," Curry shot back cheerfully, his crew cracking up behind him.

    Before Wade could stop them, the group muscled their way inside, ignoring himpletely. He spun around, but they''d already scattered, vanishing into the house.

    They made a beeline for the living room, where two girls were sitting on the couch.

    Monica, Wade''s older sister, was

    familiar to them all. Curry and his

    friends greeted her politely. "H

    Monica! Wade said we coulde by and hang out."

    Wade stormed in just in time to catch that little performance. He shot them a murderous re. "You guys are unbelievable," he muttered under his breath.

    But the boys ignored him, their attention glued to the other girl sitting in front of Monica.

    Holy crap. She''s gorgeous.

    Wade''s little sister looked like she''d stepped out of a porcin doll collection-too perfect to be real.

    Damn, wish I had a sister like that.

    The boys couldn''t tear their eyes away from Citrine, staring so intently it was like they''d forgotten how to blink.

    Wade finally lost patience. He stomped on their feet, jolting them back to reality.

    Curry was the first to recover. "Hi, I''m Curry," he said, beaming. "I''m a friend of your brother''s."

    Townsend Hill chimed in next. "Hey, I''m Townsend. People call me the ''King of Crestwood'' wherever I go, all eyes are on me."

    Unlike those two clowns, Stevenson looked like he actually had his act together until he opened his mouth. "Hey, I''m Stevenson, but you can call me Steven. Male, into women, and my biggest dream is to give a home to every beautiful girl in Crestwood." C¨®ntent

    Monica rolled her eyes. Citrine just smiled politely, but Wade looked like he was about to explode.

 Chapter 645

    Townsend''s narcissism was one thing, but Stevenson-strutting around like a peacock in full disy-was absolutely insufferable.

    Monica and Wade both frowned almost in unison.

    Monica, worried about corrupting her innocent little sister, cleared her throat loudly. "Stevenson, don''t make me p you."

    Wade, far less polite, simply kicked out at Stevenson. "Stevenson, you idiot, if you try showing off in front of my sister one more time, I swear I''ll knock your teeth in."

    Stevenson dodged just in time. With the siblings ganging up on him, he finally relented and lowered his head. "Alright, alright, I was wrong! Please, spare me." Monica and Wade shot Stevenson onest withering re but let it drop.

    Just then, Citrine greeted the group as well.

    After the hellos, Curry suddenly seemed to notice something. He stared at Citrine for a long moment before blurting out, "Wade, why does your sister look so familiar? Haven''t we met her somewhere before?"

    Townsend, hearing this, also regarded Citrine more closely and nodded. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I feel like I''ve seen her somewhere too."

    With both of them saying the same thing, Stevenson couldn''t help but step closer, scrutinizing Citrine for a solid minute.

    Curry and Townsend, seeing Stevenson so serious, assumed he had the same feeling. "Well? Do you recognize her too?"

    Stevenson was silent for a moment, then dered solemnly, "Honestly, I think you look familiar too. You remind me of someone I''ve met before."

    "Who?" Citrine, seeing his earnest expression, was half-convinced.

    Stevenson narrowed his eyes, looking thoughtful. "To be honest, you look exactly like the girl I keep seeing in my dreams-my next girlfriend."

    Monica: ""

    Wade: "..."

    Townsend and Curry: "..."

    Of course. They should''ve known better than to expect anything sane from Stevenson.

    This guy was out of his mind.

    Citrine''s look at Stevenson was now equal parts speechless and disturbed.

    Worried her sister might actually be frightened, Monica quickly stepped in front of Citrine, shielding her.

    She gritted her teeth. "Stevenson, you really ought to check yourself into a mental hospital. If you''re sick, get help."

    Wade was just as pissed.

    "Stevenson, I''m warning you-don''t think about my

    even

    and she''s a swan. You''re a

    even worthy to tie her shoes."

    not

    Stevenson was Crestwood''s most notorious yboy; forget women¡ªeven a passing cow wasn''t safe from his attention.

    "Alright, alright! I''ll stop, I promise." He actually did like Citrine, but with his friends so riled up, he knew when to quit.

    No sooner had Stevenson finished his sentence, Curry suddenly let out a cry.

    "CrimsonFirst! CICI Group President Carmichael! Chairwoman of Crestwood Medical Research Center!"

    He couldn''t hold back his excitement and nearly shouted.

    He remembered Wade iming during thest Titan Showdown tournament that Crimson First was his sister, but he hadn''t believed him. Now, unbelievably, it was true.

    My God. She''d been making waves online in every field-business, medicine,

    gaming, literature-she seemed to excel at everything.

    With Curry''s outburst, Townsend quickly recalled several recent news stories.

    "No way. You''re incredible-you''re

    like

    my idol You have no idea how much my whole family worships you. We even have your photo in our living room. My parents are

    expecting another kid, and every day they light candles and pray in front of your picture, hoping they''ll have a daughter like you."

 Chapter 646

    "Praying to a photo? Burning incense?" Citrine''s eyebrow twitched in disbelief.

    Wade had finally reached his limit with this idiot.

    He smacked Townsend on the head and growled through clenched teeth, "Townsend, go home right now and tell your parents to put away the photo and those candles, got it?"

    Townsend blinked, confused. "Why?"

    Wade shot him a smile that was all threat and no warmth. "No reason. But if you don''t, I swear I''ll make your life hell."

    Stevenson suddenly fell silent, stealing a nce at Citrine in surprise.

    He''d read the news online-during the flu outbreak, she''d made several huge donations, even set up a special clinic for flu patients at the research center. Back then, Stevenson had genuinely admired their chairwoman. He never imagined he''d actually meet her one day.

    Citrine just smiled at the group, saying nothing.

    Wade couldn''t have felt prouder watching everyone look at his little sister with such respect.

    There was just one problem: now none of these guys could take their eyes off her, and that bothered him more than he cared to admit.

    Checking his watch, Wade grew impatient and waved Curry and the others away. "Alright, it''s gettingte. We''re heading out for barbecue."

    Trantion: Time to leave, guys.

    He expected them to take the hint and go, but none of them seemed to get it. Instead, they perked up.

    Curry swallowed hard, grinning. "Barbecue sounds amazing! I''m starving. Let''s go now."

    Townsend chimed in, "It''s been ages since I''ve had a good barbecue. I''m in!"

    Stevenson added, "If Wade''s buying, I''m not saying no."

    Wade: ......

    Seriously? Is there anyone in this family who understands me?

    At that moment, Wade felt like a helpless little boy whose world had just crumbled.

    Resigned, he led the group out together.

    They found a well-reviewed barbecue ce nearby.

    The moment they walked in, Wade whipped out a pack of wet wipes and

    meticulously cleaned both the chairs and the table.

    Curry stared at him, half-convinced he was seeing things. "Since when did you get so fussy, Wade?"

    Wade shot him a look. "You don''t know anything. There''s nothing wrong with being careful."

    In no time, Wade had the table and chairs spotless.

    Curry, not one to be outdone,

    grabbed some wipes and started et

    cleaning, too. But just as he finished, he heard Wade''s uncharacteristically doting voice.

    "Citrine, I''ve got your seat all cleaned up for you. Come sit here." Wade''s tone was so gentle it barely sounded like him.

    Curry and the others froze mid-wipe, gawking at Wade.

    Good grief. Mr. Saunders, actually waiting on someone? And looking like he''d done it a hundred times before.

    Right in front of everyone, Citrine sat down in the spot Wade had cleaned.

    Once she was settled, it was

    Monica''s turn to order. She''d already

    gotten a list of Citrine''s favorite

    foods from Hilda that morning, so

    everything she picked was

    something her little sister loved.

    When the food arrived, Monica barely touched her own te, spending the whole time making sure Citrine had enough to eat. If she

    wasn''t worried Citrine might be thirsty, she was fussing that something was too spicy.

    Curry and the guys could only watch in stunned silence.

    Halfway through the meal, they finally figured it out-those Saunders siblings

    were total sister-obsessed lunatics. Absolutely hopeless.

 Chapter 647

    The group was halfway through their meal,ughter filling the air, when suddenly a crowd stormed in from behind them with a loudmotion.

    Before anyone could react, their table was kicked out from under them without warning. tes and food crashed to the floor, soups and drinks sttering everywhere.

    Wade yanked his little sister out of the way and dove aside himself, just in time to avoid being drenched in the mess. He shot a furious re at the culprit, jaw clenched tight.

    "Jonah Griffin, what the hell is wrong with you?"

    Jonah just gave a cold, arrogant snort. "You hijack my car, I trash your table. Seems fair to me."

    At the mention of the car, a flicker of guilt shed in Wade''s eyes, but it vanished almost instantly.

    "It''s not like your name was painted on it," Wade shot back, feigning innocence. "What gives you the right to im it?"

    "That was a custom build I ordered a year in advance. There''s only one in the world, and you, you bastard, swooped in and snatched it out from under me!" Jonah was practically shaking with rage.

    Both Jonah and Wade were professional racers, born and bred in Crestwood''s elite circles, childhood rivals who had never seen eye to eye.

    For a racer, nothing mattered more than the car. God only knew how furious Jonah had been when he discovered the dream car he''d waited a year for had been stolen right out from under his nose.

    Seeing Wade only stoked his anger.

    "Maybe you shouldn''t have been such an idiot," Wade sneered, not one to take insults lying down.

    Jonah suddenly let out a mockingugh. "You sore loser. Still mad about thest race, aren''t you? Couldn''t beat me on the track, so you stole my baby instead. Pathetic."

    Wade''s face twisted in fury. "You wanna repeat that? Say it again and see what happens!"

    Jonah just smirked. "Struck a nerve, have I?"

    He leaned in, voice low and taunting. "If you''ve got the guts, why don''t we settle this with a race?"

    "Fine by me!" Wade snapped, hispetitive streak ring. "You think I''m scared of you?"

    Jonah''s eyes glinted with satisfaction as Wade took the bait.

    "This time," Jonah said coolly, "we''re not going to North Steed Summit Circuit. We''ll race at Skysunder Ridge."

    At the mention of Skysunder Ridge, Monica and the other guys in Wade''s crew went pale.

    North Steed Summit Circuit was Crestwood''s premier racetrack, a professional venue where all the big races were held.

    But Skysunder Ridge was a different beast entirely. It was infamous-the most dangerous, treacherous, and longest racing route in the world. Twisting mountain roads, barely more than a rough track, earned it the local nickname: The Extreme Course. Racing there was like free-climbing a cliff without a harness.

    Actually, it was even riskier.

    Plenty had tried practicing on Skysunder Ridge, but no one dared to race there. Every racer who had ever attempted a head-to-head on that mountain was now six feet under-save for one.

    It was suicide. Monica finally snapped, her voice trembling with anger and fear. "Jonah, you''re insane! Racing on that road? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

    "Yeah, if you''ve got a death wish, fine, but don''t drag Wade into it!"

    "One wrong move and someone''s going to end up dead!"

    Jonah ignored them, eyes locked on Wade, brow furrowed in challenge.

    He cocked his head, goading him. "What''s the matter, Wade? You scared?"

 Chapter 648

    As soon as the words left his mouth, Jonah let out a mockingugh. "Forget it. If you''re too scared, just pretend I never said anything."

    It was obvious to everyone-Jonah hade prepared.

    Monica frowned, trying to intervene. "No way, Wade. Don''t let him get to you.¡±

    She paused, then threatened, "If you say yes, I''m telling your aunt as soon as we get home."

    Curry chimed in, "Wade, Jonah''s lost his mind, but that doesn''t mean you have to go crazy with him."

    Townsend added, "If he''s challenging you to race at Skysunder Ridge, you can bet he''s nned this out. Don''t just walk into a death trap."

    Everyone was trying to talk him down-everyone except Citrine.

    Wade had to admit, their words made him hesitate. But the humiliation was burning in his chest-he couldn''t swallow it down.

    He shot back, anger ring in his eyes, "Fine. A race it is. I''m not scared of you."

    Jonah''s lips curled into a satisfied smile. "Tomorrow morning, eight o''clock. Skysunder Ridge. Don''t bete."

    With that, Jonah strode off, his whole crew swaggering after him.

    Once they were gone, Monica rounded on Wade. "Have you lost your mind? He picked Skysunder Ridge for a reason-he''s ready for this. You racing him there is basically suicide!"

    "You know what kind of ce Skysunder Ridge is. Don''t tell me you''ve forgotten."

    She took a shaky breath, voice tight with frustration. "Have you forgotten what happened there all those years ago¡ªthe Skysunder Ridge Incident that made headlines everywhere?"

    Back then, two Crestwood racers, both stubborn as hell, had

    challenged each other to a duel at Skysunder Ridge. They''d practiced the course countless times, pushing themselves and their cars to the limit. The mountain road was treacherous, full of blind curves and sudden drops. Both men were desperate to win, flooring it all the way, until finally, both cars crashed in a fiery wreck. By the time the families were notified, there was barely enough left to identify them.

    Those guys had trained at Skysunder Ridge again and again and even they didn''t make it out alive. Wade could count on one hand how many times he''d even driven there.

    Monica''s words brought the memory back in a rush, and everyone started pleading with Wade.

    Curry said, "Wade, maybe you should back out. Skysunder Ridge isn''t for thrill- seekers-it''s a death sentence."

    Townsend, now deadly serious, agreed. "Yeah, man. Proving a point isn''t worth your life. Don''t do this just to save face."

    Even Stevenson, always the wild card, spoke up with uncharacteristic solemnity. "If something happens to you, everyone who cares about you will be devastated."  fo

    Wade shook his head, unmoved. "I can''t back down. I already said yes¡ªand I''m a racer. We don''t run from a challenge."

    Monica snapped, losing herposure. "Wade, don''t make me p you! You only get one life, damn it!"

    Wade''s voice was firm. "Don''t waste your breath. I''ve made up my mind." His eyes were distant-nothing anyone said was going to reach him now.

    Racing was his passion. He wanted to shine on his own terms.

    He had to go through with this race.

    The others looked at Wade¡ªso stubborn, so unyielding¡ªand could only sigh. Then Stevenson spoke up suddenly. "Actually, there is a way to survive Skysunder Ridge."

    Monica and the rest spun toward him, eyes wide with hope and anxiety. "What is it?" they demanded.

    Stevenson''s face was dead serious. "You need to find the King of Skysunder Ridge."

 Chapter 649

    Curry gaped in disbelief. "The King of Skysunder Ridge? You mean the champion from two years ago the one who not only finished the entire Skysunder Ridge course but did it in record-shattering time?"

    Stevenson nodded. "That''s right."

    Curry let out a long sigh. "That guy''s a ghost-shows up out of nowhere and disappears just as fast. How are we supposed to find him?"

    "And even if we do, what difference will it make?"

    Stevenson''s expression turned serious. "He''s the only racer who survived the Skysunder Ridge tournament and set the fastest time. Ever since then, Skysunder Ridge has be legendary-racers from all over the world are drawn to it. The developers behind the track, they practically worship this guy. Whatever he wants, he gets. Most importantly, the entire security team at Skysunder Ridge was created just for him."

    He continued, "The Skysunder Ridge security team knows every inch of the terrain, every twist in the weather. If we can get them on our side, we can make sure no one gets seriously hurt during the race. So really, all we need to do is find the King of Skysunder Ridge."

    Curry frowned. "If that security team is so good, why bother hunting down the King? Why not just go straight to the team?"

    Stevenson rolled his eyes. "You think it''s that easy? The security team is handpicked by the developers, and the whole point of building that squad was to protect the King of Skysunder Ridge. The developers-they''re all adventurers from out of the country. They love thrill-seekers, and to them, this racer is a legend, the only one who''s ever conquered the course. They respect him, and they''ll do anything for him."

    "The truth is, he''s the only one who can give orders to the security team. That''s why we need him."

    Stevenson sighed. "But there''s practically no news about him-he''s aplete enigma. Honestly, you can just ignore everything I said. It''s probably a lost cause." Monica: "..."

    Curry: "..."

    Townsend: "..

    ...

    Well, that was a whole lot of nothing.

    Everyone exchanged exasperated looks, collectively rolling their eyes. If there

    was a word for this, it would be "speechless."

    Wade, however, was absolutely

    determined. No amount of reasoning could get through to him. At that moment, Monica''s mind shed to Citrine.

    In the entire Saunders family, only their youngest sister could get through to Wade.

    Monica tugged gently at Citrine''s sleeve and whispered, "Sis, you''re

    talk some sense into him. Wade''s

    the only one he listens to get

    really lost it this time."

    Citrine nced at Monica''s hand on her sleeve, then answered softly, "Let him go, Monica."

    Citrine''s face was perfectly serious. "A young man''s pride and passion can''t be reced. Racing is what Wade loves. If he backs out now, he''ll regret it for the rest of his life."

    "More importantly, anyone who wants to be a top racer has to take on Skysunder Ridge sooner orter."

    "Wait, what?" Monica had been hoping her sister would talk Wade out of it, not cheer him on.

    Damn it, help!

    What now? But, she had to admit-Citrine made a lot of sense.

    Should she side with her precious little sister, or try to keep her reckless brother off Skysunder Ridge?

    Monica hesitated for a second, then made up her mind.

    Forget it. Let her brother chase danger if he wants-making her sister happy was more important.

 Chapter 650

    Monica chuckled. "Citrine''s right. That restless fire of youth-once it''s gone, you can never get it back."

    "Wade, if you want to go, then go. At least you''ll get some practice behind the wheel." She shrugged; Wade had clearly made up his mind, and she knew there was no talking him out of it. Might as well let him have his way.

    Wade''s eyes lit up after hearing Citrine''s words.

    "I knew you''d understand me best, Citrine." He looked at his sister as if she were the only person in the world who truly got him.

    Seeing their efforts were pointless, the others gave up trying to change his mind.

    Early the next morning, the group arrived at Skysunder Ridge.

    Jonah was already waiting at the track, pacing impatiently.

    Spotting Citrine and Monica at Wade''s side, Jonah let out a mockingugh, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Well, well, Mr. Saunders brought a couple ofdies for support?"

    He doubled over, cackling. "What''s the matter? You need a cheer squad to hold your hand?"

    "Or are you just scared you''ll lose to me?" His every word wasced with taunts.

    Wade scoffed. "Who let the mutt out this morning? You sure bark a lot for someone so scared."

    Jonah bristled. "Who the hell are you calling a mutt?"

    "You, obviously." Wade didn''t bother to hide his contempt, flipping Jonah off with a smirk.

    Jonah''s jaw clenched. "Laugh it up while you can. In a few minutes, I''ll wipe that smirk off your face for good."

    With that, he spun on his heel and stormed off.

    Wade and his friends headed to the prep area to get ready.

    A panel of professional race officials had been brought in for this event, making everything feel even more serious.

    Once everything was set, Wade and Jonah drove their cars to the starting line.

    Just as the referee was about to signal the start, Jonah unexpectedly climbed out of his car. Wade frowned and followed suit.

    "What''s the game now, Jonah?" Wade asked, clearly annoyed.

    Jonah shed a sly grin. "If it''s a real race, there should be a wager, right?"

    "What''s the bet?" Wade shot back, not missing a beat.

    "If I win, you have to shout ''Dad, I was wrong'' ten times in front of everybody. And from now on, every time you see me, you have to call me Dad. Of course, if you win, I''ll do the same."

    "Deal," Wade replied, not even hesitating.

    With that, both men got back in their cars and buckled up.

    The race began.

    Their cars shot-forward, engines roaring. The opening stretch was smooth, interrupted only by a handful of sharp turns-nothing either of them couldn''t handle. Both drivers pushed their cars to the limit,

    hurtling down the road, neither gaining nor losing ground.

    Soon they hit the dust zone, where thick clouds of grit made it nearly impossible to see. Jonah, having practiced here many times before, navigated the haze with practiced ease. Wade, on the other hand, struggled to keep his bearings, relying on instinct alone. By the time he burst out of the dust, Jonah was nowhere in sight.

    The next section twisted through the mountains. Rocky, uneven, and dangerous, but Wade found it easier than thest stretch. Jonah seemed to handle it just as well.

    They cleared both sections, but the challenge was far from over.

    The skies darkened and rain began to pour, whipping windsshing at the mountainside. The road became slick, every turn a gamble now. This was where true driving skill was put to the test.

    Both drivers fought to keep control of their cars. Tires threatened to slide out from under them, and the drop at the edge of the road was a constant, terrifying presence. One wrong move, and it would all be over.

    Jonah''s experience paid off; he

    knew every twist, every gust of wind, and just how hard he could push before the tires lost grip. Wade, meanwhile, was struggling-hed never faced conditions like this before, and it showed.

    He was falling further and further behind.

 Chapter 651

    Before the race, Jonah had gone out of his way-pulling strings and spending a small fortune to hire a coach from the Skysunder Ridge Circuit, someone with serious international credentials and a reputation that made even money an unreliable guarantee of their time.

    Just a few days earlier, the coach had spent several sessions runningp afterp with Jonah on the Ridge, outlining every nuance of the course-how to handle the trickiest turns, time-saving shortcuts, and the art of drifting through the hairpins. Every critical detail was drilled into him.

    By now, Jonah knew the track inside out. He could push the speed just a notch and still keep things under control¡ªa feat that, on this treacherous course, would already be tough for most professional drivers to match.

    It had been raining steadily. The mountain road was slick, and every so often, a rock would tumble from the slopes, ramping up the danger by several degrees.

    An hour slipped by. Jonah had left Wade far behind.

    Despite the brutal weather and the ever-present risk of spinning out, Jonah seemed unfazed. Each drift was so precise it looked almost effortless, as if he''d anticipated every patch of slick pavement.

    Minutester, Jonah shot across the finish line, alone.

    Wade was still somewhere on the course. Anxious but determined, he kept his cool, constantly scanning the road and the stormy sky-he knew a single mistake could mean disaster on these twisting cliffs.

    He didn''t push for speed. By the time he crested the summit and crossed the finish, Jonah had already been waiting twenty minutes.

    The result was clear. Wade had lost, but his loss was far from disgraceful.

    He''d made it safely to the end, something nobody had really expected.

    Jonah, who''d been basking in victory just moments before, watched as Wade''s car rolled through the finish. The color drained from his face.

    He stared, wide-eyed, at Wade''s car in disbelief, not quite epting what he saw until Wade finally climbed out into the rain.

    As soon as Wade stepped out, Monica''s eyes swept over him from head to toe, checking for any sign of injury Only when she saw he was in one piece did she finally let herself breathe.

    She exhaled, long and loud. "Thank God. You''ve got all your limbs attached."

    The group surged forward to greet him.

    Curry, eyes red, pped Wade''s shoulder with a forceful grin. ¡°I told you, kid, you''d be just fine."

    Townsend chimed in, "You really pulled it off-impressive, man."

    Stevenson shook his head, a smile

    1.n

    tugging at his lips. "Honestly, I thought you''d go head-to-head with Jonah until one of you crashed. Didn''t expect you to keep your cool like that. I''ve got to admit, I''m kind of impressed."

    He might have lost the race, but with everyone praising him, Wade felt a satisfaction deeper than any victory could bring.

    After the others finished, Citrine stepped forward. She hesitated for a second, searching for words, before saying quietly, "You were amazing, big brother."

    Wade''s eyes softened. Unable to resist, he reached out to ruffle her hair.

    The moment his palm touched her head, he remembered-Citrine hated that. He jerked his hand back and apologized right away. "Sorry, forgot you don''t like that."

    She used to duck every time he tried. Now, realizing his mistake, Wade pulled his

    hand away, worried. "Citrine, I didn''t mean to. Please don''t be mad."

    He was genuinely afraid she''d be upset.

    But Citrine''s face was unreadable. She simply smiled. "What are you talking about? Why would I be mad?"

    With wide, innocent eyes, she reached for his hand and gently ced it back on

    her head, her voice soft with affection. "Go ahead. You can ruffle my hair anytime."

 Chapter 652

    Wade was a little taken aback by all the attention, almost as if he couldn''t believe his luck. He nced at his little sister and couldn''t help but smile, feeling like a champion who''d just won a hard-fought battle.

    Just then, Curry flung an arm around Wade''s shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. "Come on, Wade, spill it-how on earth did you manage to run the whole course today? That''s not like you!"

    "Yeah, tell us! We want to know too!" Curry''s words instantly drew everyone''s attention. All eyes zeroed in on Wade, eager for his answer.

    Wade broke into a smile, his eyes lighting up as he looked over at his sister. "Honestly, if it weren''t for Citrine, I never would''ve finished the race so smoothly today."

    The night before the race, Wade had tossed and turned restlessly in bed. Unable to sleep, he finally got up and wandered into the backyard to get some air.

    As luck would have it, he bumped into Citrine, who had just finished a phone call out there.

    They nearly ran into each other. Citrine was visibly surprised to see him. "Wade, you''ve got a big race tomorrow. Why aren''t you in bed?"

    Wade hesitated, looking a little embarrassed. "I... I just can''t sleep."

    "Is it because of the race?" Citrine asked quietly.

    He nodded, not trying to hide it. The truth was, he''d only run the Skysunder Ridge track a handful of times and barely knew its twists and turns. Jonah, meanwhile, had clearly picked this course for a reason¡ªhe was out to win.

    Even as Wade tried to sleep, Monica and the others'' warnings from earlier in the day kept echoing in his ears, making him even more uneasy.

    He started to doubt himself.

    Citrine didn''t say anything right away. She paused, then offered a calm, clear- headed analysis. "If Jonah chose to race you at Skysunder Ridge, it means he''s confident. He''ll finish the race tomorrow-and probably with a good time."

    Hearing this, Wade''s spirits sank even further. He lowered his head in silence. Citrine noticed his gloom and looked at him thoughtfully. "Wade, what''s your dream?"

    He blinked in surprise, unsure where she was going with this. It took him a moment to answer. "To be a great racecar driver."

    She pressed on. "Then what do you think matters most to a great driver?"

    "Winning." Wade answered without hesitation.

    Citrine shook her head. "No, that''s not it."

    "Not winning? Then what is it?" Wade was genuinely puzzled.

    She smiled and said, ¡°The most important thing isn''t winning. It''s giving your all to finish every race safely, pushing yourself to improve with each one. What matters is the journey, not just the result.

    She continued, "You''re lucky just to do what you love. Sitting behind the wheel should be the happiest ce in the world for you, right?"

    Wade''s eyes lit up. "Of course." Every time he slid into the driver''s seat, his heart would pound with excitement. That was when he felt truly alive.

    Citrine thought for a moment, then gently reminded him, "Staying calm under pressure is the most basic quality for a great driver. Tomorrow, we don''t have to win-but we

    ve

    definitely can''t give up or fall apart out there."

    ¨¨

    She went on, "So promise me, Wade-give it your all tomorrow, but only as long as you stay safe. What matters most to me is seeing you cross that finish line in one piece."

    Wade smiled, seriousness in his eyes. "I promise."

 Chapter 653

    During the race today, there was a moment when Wade trailed far behind Jonah. The urge to m the gas pedal to the floor almost overwhelmed him. But then, his sister''s words from the night before came back to him-along with the promise he''d made her.

    He forced himself to stay calm, over and over again. He reminded himself that he had to cross the finish line safely; recklessness could cost him dearly. If he let himself get swept up in the heat of the moment, it wouldn''t just be a loss¡ªit''d be a humiliating defeat.

    In the end, he managed to keep his cool.

    He owed it all to Citrine and what she''d said to himst night.

    Wade recounted the entire conversation to his friends. As he finished, Monica and the others stared at Citrine, eyes wide with surprise.

    No wonder, they thought. The way Wade had kept his head today waspletely out of character for him. He was never the patient type-especially not on the track, where he''d sooner destroy his engine than let someone overtake him.

    Curry grinned. "Honestly, we all talked so much yesterday, but your sister barely said a word. We thought she wasn''t worried. Turns out, she was just quietly handling business behind the scenes. That''s Citrine for you always the silent mastermind."

    At that, everyone suddenly remembered: Citrine wasn''t just a neen-year-old girl. She was also the chairwoman of CICI Group, the head of Crestwood Medical Research Center, and a bestselling author.

    Wade looked at his sister, affection shining in his eyes. "Seriously, I couldn''t have gotten through today without Citrine. If it weren''t for her, I might not have even finished the race."

    As they chatted andughed, Jonah stood off to the side, his expression sour.

    A bunch of lunatics, he thought. You''d think they''d won the race, the way they''re celebrating.

    Jonah strode over, cutting through theirughter with a scowl.

    "Hey, Wade, you really have no shame, do you?"

    Before Wade could answer, Jonah smirked and added, "You lose the race and still have the nerve to crack jokes? Don''t tell me you''ve forgotten our little wager."

    Wade turned, his gaze suddenly icy. His voice was low and steady. "Rx. I keep my word. I''m not the type to back out."

    Jonah grinned, enjoying himself. "Then do it now-let everyone hear you say it ten times: ''I''m sorry, Dad.""

    Wade''s face darkened.

    Curry''s jaw clenched as he red at Jonah. "Don''t push it, Jonah."

    "What''s wrong, Mr. Saunders?" Jonah sneered. "Thinking of backing out?"

    "I don''t back out," Wade said, even if there was a hint of bitterness in kis tone. He pped Curry on the- shoulder, stepped forward,

    and without hesitation-shouted, "Dad!"

    He forced himself to say it ten times, loud and clear, swallowing his pride with each repetition.

    He was still young, and the sting of humiliation cut deep. As soon as it was over, the weight of it all settled on his shoulders, his mood plummeting.

    Jonah, meanwhile, was practically glowing with satisfaction. He couldn''t resist twisting the knife. "It''s not every day you see Mr. Saunders like this. I''ve got to say, it''s pretty entertaining."

    With that, he pulled out his phone and pointed it at Wade, smirking. "Mind if I take

    a picture for the memories, Mr. Saunders?"

    Wade''s fists clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles turned white, fingernails digging into his palms.

    "Jonah, that''s enough." Monica''s voice was sharp with anger. She was a Saunders, too¡ªand Wade was her brother. Seeing him humiliated like this made her blood boil.

    "I''m warning you, Jonah-back off," Curry growled, shaking with barely contained rage.

    Even Townsend and Stevenson, usually calm, were ring at Jonah with a look that suggested they might throw punches any second.

    Jonah just scoffed, his arrogance on full disy. "He lost. A deal''s a deal. If I want to mess with him a little, that''s my right."

    Wade had never been put through anything like this before. Though he''d braced himself for this

    oue, actually facing it was. something else entirely. He had no choice but to swallow his pride and

    endure it.

    5

 Chapter 654

    Wade''s face was dark as a thundercloud, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. But just then, he felt a small, soft hand gently tug at his fist, prying his fingers open one by one.

    He nced down, caught off guard by the sight of his little sister''s eyes looking up at him¡ªso bright and clear, it was like staring into a sky full of stars.

    She gazed at him with utter seriousness. "Big brother, do you want me to help you get your dignity back?"

    Wade had no idea that the storm on his face melted away the moment he met his sister''s shining eyes, leaving only an expression of helpless affection.

    He couldn''t help butugh when she offered to "get his dignity back." She must be joking, he thought. ying along, he said, "Sure. Your big brother''s had a rough day. Citrine, I''ll leave it to you to settle the score."

    No sooner had he spoken than Citrine turned her attention to Jonah, who sat across from them, looking smug and triumphant.

    A sly smile curled on her lips as she scoffed, "Jonah, you won, I''ll give you that. But my brother kept his end of the bargain. Yet you still had to humiliate him. Don''t you think that''s a little ungracious?"

    "What did you say?" Jonah''s expression soured in an instant. He''d been so

    absorbed in mocking Wade that he hadn''t even noticed Citrine until she spoke. When he finally looked at her, a flicker of surprise shed across his face, but he quickly looked away, feigning indifference.

    He huffed, "Don''t think just because you''re pretty, I''m going to go easy on you."

    Citrine ignored his bluster. "That limited edition race car of yours? It was a birthday gift from my brother to me. So technically, if anyone''s taking your car, it''s me-not him."

    Before Jonah could retort, Citrine continued, "How about this: let''s race. Just you and me. What do you say?"

    Even before she finished, Monica and Wade''s faces changed.

    Monica rushed to her side, grabbing Citrine''s arm in concern. "No, Citrine, I don''t agree. The Skysunder Ridge track is dangerous, and Jonah''s a professional driver."

    She hesitated, then added, "It''s not worth risking yourself for Wade''s sake. He can survive a few insults."

    Before Citrine had moved back in with the Saunders family, Wade kad already seen her race once at North Steed Su

    Steed Summit Circuit-she''d bailed him out of a tough spot then so he knew she could drive.

    But that didn''t mean he was okay with her going up against Jonah.

    "Citrine, it''s not a big deal if I get humiliated a little. There''s no reason for you to take on that guy."

    Skysunder Ridge was treacherous. If anything happened to his sister, not only would he never forgive himself, but neither family-the Carmichaels or the Saunders-would let him off the hook.

    Curry and the others chimed in, trying to talk Citrine out of it.

    She smiled reassuringly. "Don''t worry. I''ve been racing for years. wouldn''t take this on if I wasn''t sure I could handle it." She knew they were worried, but honestly, this was a cakewalk for her. ''

    Citrine always finished what she started and never picked a fight she couldn''t win.

    After a long, silent exchange, Monica and Wade finally gave in.

    Wade thought for a moment. "Okay, but on one condition-I''m riding shotgun."

    "Deal," Citrine agreed without hesitation.

    She turned to Jonah. "Well? Are you in or not?"

    Jonah rolled his eyes and looked at Wade. "Wade, I don''t pick on women. Maybe talk some sense into your sister? Racing isn''t child''s y. If

    anything happens to her, I''m not

    taking the me."

    Citrine only smiled. "Mr. Griffin, are you making excuses already? Don''t tell me you''re scared."

    "Scared?" Jonah bristled, temper ring. "I''ve never backed down from a challenge. Fine. Let''s race."

    Citrine''s smile deepened.

    Perfect. The fish had taken the bait.

 Chapter 655

    Just a reckless little brat, thinking she could actuallypete with him.

    Jonah nced at Citrine''s face and, for a split second, forgot to breathe.

    Whatever. If she wanted to y, he''d be gracious enough to humor her. He had nothing better to do anyway-might as well enjoy the show.

    He looked at her, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "If you''re up for a game, I''ll y along."

    "Then let''s start now," he added, turning to head toward his car.

    "Wait." Citrine''s cool voice cut through the air, stopping him in his tracks.

    "What is it?" Jonah turned back, a smirk flickering on his face. "Don''t tell me you''re having second thoughts?" After all, it was Skysunder Ridge they''d be racing¡ªthe kind of ce people barely made it out of alive. It was only natural for a young girl to get cold feet.

    He was about to ept her retreat with a smile when Citrine spoke up, "You already burned a lot of energy in the morning race. Let''s set ours for the afternoon. Fair''s fair."

    Then she added, "My brother will ride shotgun with me. You should find someone to ride with you as well."

    Jonah hesitated for a moment, then scoffed and nodded. "Fine."

    With that settled, everyone headed to the dining hall for lunch. After the meal, they made their way back to the racetrack.

    Just before the race, Citrine called out to Jonah.

    He raised an eyebrow. "What''s wrong? Getting nervous?"

    She let out a quiet, scornfulugh. "Mr. Griffin, since you and my brother had a wager, shouldn''t we add one to our race as well?" Her tone was yful, but there was a glint of challenge in her eyes. "After all, what fun is a race without a bet?"

    Jonah paused, then asked, "What do you have in mind?"

    Resting her chin on her hand, Citrine pretended to think it over. ¡°Let''s see... If I win, you have to tell my brother ''I''m sorry'' ten times¡ªand from now on, every time you see him, you have to call him ''Grandpa.""

    Jonah burst outughing. "So that''s what this is a little sister fighting for her brother''s honor."

    Citrine huffed. "Cut the crap. If you''ve got it in you, have your own sister fight for you."

    He grinned, brimming with confidence. "Deal. If all I have to do is call him Grandpa, I''m in." Not a chance he''d lose anyway.

    His smile turned cold. "But if you lose, Wade gets on his knees and apologizes to me."

    Citrine was about to protest, but Wade cut in, answering for her with fierce certainty. "I agree."

    She hadn''t expected Wade to trust her that much. Warmth blossomed in her chest as she looked at him. "Don''t worry. I won''t lose."

    Wade ruffled her hair, his voice gentle and full of pride. "I believe in you. And even

    if we do lose, it''s no big deal."

    So what if he had to kneel? If it made his sister happy, his pride was a small price to pay.

    These two really didn''t know their limits, Jonah thought. Still, if they wanted to y, he''d y along.

    "Alright then," he said seriously. "Let''s begin."

    Citrine took the wheel of Wade''s race car, with Wade at her side in the passenger seat.

    On the other side, Jonah climbed into his own vehicle, another man joining him as his co-driver.

    Seatbelts clicked. Engines rumbled. As soon as they were ready, both cars shot forward in unison.

    The rain pounded harder, wind

    whipping the trees along the mountainside until they bent and swayed. Dark clouds choked the sky, and visibility was so poor it was almost impossible to see the road ahead.

    From the very start, the race had everyone on edge, hearts pounding in their chests.

    Compared to the chaos of the

    morning, this was a whole different league the danger and difficulty

    had been cranked up severab

    notches.

    It was the first time Jonah had faced such brutal conditions. Even he was feeling

    the strain, forced to ease off the gas and slow down.

 Chapter 656

    Even though Jonah had already slowed down, there was nothing he could do to prevent the sudden disaster.

    In the next instant, a tree on the right side of the mountain suddenly crashed down, rolling straight toward his car. Just as Jonah tried to elerate, the tree barreled down the slope and stopped directly in front of him, blocking the roadpletely.

    "Damn it." Jonah mmed his palm against the steering wheel, cursing under his breath.

    By now, Citrine had left him far behind. By the time Jonah managed to deal with the fallen tree, she had already vanished from sight.

    What Jonah didn''t realize was that the moment the tree had toppled in front of his car, he''d already lost the race.

    It took everything he had to drag the tree out of the way, and then he stomped on the gas in a desperate attempt to catch up.

    Meanwhile, Citrine''s expression never wavered as she navigated the treacherous mountain roads. Even when rocks tumbled down or branches crashed in her path, she spotted every obstacle in advance, instantly gauging where the debris wouldnd, and expertly drifted around the falling hazards without missing a beat.

    The first time Citrine maneuvered over a fallen log, Wade''s eyes went wide with shock.

    "Careful, sis.¡± His voice was thick with worry as he watched her from the passenger seat.

    But before he could say more, Citrine pressed the pedal and the car leapt, soaring smoothly over the obstacle.

    Wade was stunned. Her drift was wless-tires barely touching the ground. How on earth was she pulling off moves like this?

    Afraid he''d distract her, Wade watched Citrine''s profile for a moment, fighting to contain his excitement, and forced himself to keep quiet.

    But Citrine''s next string of lightning-fast maneuvers left Wade utterly speechless.

    Before he could even process what he''d just seen, Citrine''s calm voice broke the silence: "Hold onto the handle, Wade."

    There was a hint of excitement in her tone, a spark in her eyes that made Wade almost doubt what he was seeing¡ªhis little sister looked positively exhrated.

    Doing as he was told, Wade gripped the car''s handle tight.

    Suddenly, Citrine floored it, pushing the car to its limits. Not even the pounding rain or swirling wind could slow her down.

    It was a treacherous mountain road, but under Citrine''s hands, it felt as smooth as a freshly paved highway.

    Despite the brutal weather, Citrine

    tore down the road

    unhindered-until they reached a

    section that had copsed. Mor

    than ten feet of the road had crumbled away, leaving nothing but a sheer drop into the abyss below.

    As the broken road loomed ahead, Wade''s face went pale.

    He stammered, panic creeping into his voice, "Citrine, we should stop here it''s over-it''s just not possible to cross something like that."

    When Citrine didn''t even flinch, Wade pressed on, "If we fall, we could die."

    Citrine shed him a reassuring smile. "Rx, Wade. We''re not going to die." And with that, she gripped the steering wheel tighter, her voice serious. "Hold on and lean your weight up."

    Wade barely had time to protest. He just did as she said, clinging to the handle, heart pounding in his throat.

    Citrine''s

    aession never changed

    She backed up a little, floored t

    and shot the car straight the broken edge of the road.

    One second... two seconds... three seconds...

    The carnded safely on the other side.

    Wade hadn''t shut his eyes, so he saw everything-exactly how his sister had

    cleared that ten-foot chasm.

    His tension melted away at once.

    He turned to Citrine, his face breaking into a huge, delighted grin. "That... that was incredible!"

 Chapter 657

    Once they cleared the cliff, the finish line was almost in sight.

    With a burst of energy, Citrine mmed her foot on the gas andunched the car forward.

    In her hands, the car seemed no more than a toy, bending effortlessly to her will.

    Victory was within reach. Wade, riding shotgun, could hardly contain his excitement.

    Citrine floored the elerator, and in a sh, they crossed the finish line.

    "Oh my God, Citrine, that was incredible!" Monica immediately rushed over with the others in tow.

    She looked her sister over from head to toe, checking for any sign of injury. Only after making sure Citrine was unharmed did Monica finally let out a sigh of relief.

    Thank God, she''s okay. Thank God nothing happened.

    Curry grinned, showering her with praise. "Sis, you were amazing! That drift, that speed-you were absolutely unbeatable. What a win!"

    Townsend shook his head in awe. "I''ve never seen anyone pull off a drift like that before. Consider me impressed."

    Even Stevenson, usually reserved, couldn''t help but chime in. "That jump over the gap just now was insane."

    Everyone on their side was buzzing with excitement over Citrine''s victory. But things weren''t nearly as cheerful on the other end of the track.

    Meanwhile, Jonah-who hadn''t even made it halfway-looked downright grim. Especially when the announcement crackled through his earpiece: Car No. 1 has reached the destination. A surge of frustration and desperation washed over him. He pushed down harder on the gas, driving even faster than he had that morning. The man riding in the passenger seat was so terrified his legs had gone numb. He tried to stop him, his voice shaking. "Mr. Griffin, slow down! Please, it''s too dangerous at this speed!"

    Before he could finish, Jonah shot him a cold, warning re. "Shut up if you want your money."

    This was a half-million dor job¡ªenough for a guy like him to livefortably in a small town for the rest of his life.

    After a moment''s hesitation, the man fell silent.

    Jonah, meanwhile, didn''t realize just how close he was to losing control-not just of the car, but of himself.

    The tires started to skid on the gravel, and the car nearly spun out more than once. But Jonah barely seemed to notice.

    He''d already lost, but he refused to ept it.

    Instead, the faster the car went, the more reckless he became, riding the high of adrenaline and danger.

    All he could think about was going faster. Faster.

    He''d narrowly dodged flying debris and rockfalls several times, but with each

    lucky escape, his confidence only grew.

    Until the car reached the broken stretch of mountain road.

    "How the hell is it so far?" Jonah''s face went pale.

    He hesitated, took a shaky breath, then stomped on the gas.

    The car soared forward, and everyone watching from the stands, eyes glued to the giant screen, held their breath. They all

    1.n

    wondered-could Jonah make the same impossible leap Citrine had just pulled off?

    The answer came fast.

    A collective gasp swept through the crowd. Some people even covered their eyes

    in fear.

    In a split second, Jonah''s car plummeted off the cliff.

    The drop was steep and

    treacherous-just standing there et

    was enough to make your stomach dropplet alone tumbling down in a wrecked car.

    Citrine and her friends stared at the screen in stunned silence, a mix of emotions

    on their faces.

    No one liked Jonah, but none of them wanted him dead.

    After a spoke,

    e, her voice barely above a whisper. "If he fell from

    this pause, Monica finally

    there''s no way he suvel

 Chapter 658

    Wade nodded. "From that height, if it didn''t kill them, they''d at least be paralyzed."

    The Griffin family had considerable influence in Crestwood, and now they might end up making an enemy of them. Wade''s gaze darkened as he silently resolved to take responsibility for the whole incident once they got back. If the Griffin family decided to retaliate, he''d make sure all their anger was directed at him.

    He was determined to protect Citrine, no matter what. No one wouldy a finger on her.

    As Wade was lost in thought, Citrine suddenly turned to him and Monica, her voice calm and unhurried. "Don''t worry. Jonah''s going to be fine."

    At her words, Monica, Wade, and the three men behind them-Townsend, Curry, and Stevenson-all turned to look at her.

    "What makes you so sure?" The group stared at her in disbelief.

    Citrine just smiled, saying nothing.

    Meanwhile, halfway up the cliff at Skysunder Ridge, the security team had already spread out, setting up several massive safetys anchored firmly to the rock face.

    Everyone waited, tense, as the system tracked the falling car''s trajectory. Once theputer locked onto the spot where the two men wouldnd, the security team in that sector sprang into action.

    A momentter, the battered racecar plunged down, crashing straight onto one of thes the Skysunder Ridge team had prepared.

    The screams from inside the car abruptly cut off. Almost immediately, a frantic- looking man scrambled out from the wreck.

    Within seconds, Jonah was pulled from the car by the Skysunder Ridge security team and rushed onto a waiting helicopter.

    On board, medics worked swiftly, disinfecting wounds and patching up injuries. Once everything was under control, the helicopter touched down smoothly at the top of the ridge.

    The crowd that had gathered for the race erupted in cheers when they saw the scene. "Jonah''s alive! They both made it!"

    Someone pointed out the helicopter behind Jonah and his co-driver.

    There on the side of the aircraft was a mountain crest-the emblem of the Skysunder Ridge Security Team.

    "So it was the Skysunder Ridge team who saved Jonah!"

    "No wonder. Only with them involved could anyone survive a crash like that."

    All eyes locked onto the hee insignia. This was the first time Skysunder Ridge''s elite team

    ever appeared in public, and had

    everyone''s curiosity was piqued.

    Jonah and his co-driver, bruised and battered, were escorted back by the Skysunder Ridge medics.

    Despite their visible injuries, both men were nothing but grateful.

    Jonah nced at the medic tending to his wounds and, for once, managed a rare smile. In a gentle voice, he said, "Thank you for saving me. If you or your team ever need a

    favor from the Griffit

    ask."

    CUMS

    The Skysunder Ridge medic responded politely, but with a certain distance. "Mr. Griffin, there''s no need to thank us. We were just following orders. Someone else gave themand to save you."

    ?

    Jonah''s eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

    "We have other duties, Mr. Griffin. If you''ll excuse us." The medic nodded with professional courtesy, then brushed past Jonah without waiting for a reply.

    "Wait, if it wasn''t you, then who was it?" Jonah called after them, raising his voice.

    But the Skysunder Ridge team didn''t even slow their steps. With everyone watching, they strode confidently toward Citrine and her group.

    Wade scratched his head, bewildered. "What''s going on? Why are theying over here?"

    Before anyone could answer, the security team stopped right in front of Citrine, every pair of eyes turning to her.

    "Ma''am, we''vepleted the mission you assigned us."

 Chapter 659

    Racecar legend?

    Monica and Wade both stared at Citrine in astonishment, along with everyone else.

    Then they watched as Citrine turned to the Skysunder Ridge security team. "Thank you for your hard work," she said.

    Once the guards had left, Monica couldn''t hold back any longer. "Citrine, so you agreed to let Wade and Jonah race because you''d already made preparations, didn''t you?"

    Wade looked over at Citrine too, waiting for her answer.

    Citrine nodded, offering no denial.

    Meanwhile, Jonah looked absolutely miserable. Losing was hard enough to swallow, but learning that Citrine had been the one to save him made his feelings even moreplicated.

    But what truly shocked him was discovering that Citrine was none other than Skysunder Ridge''s legendary racer.

    Jonah, still struggling toe to terms with everything, walked over to Citrine. Regardless of how he felt, she had saved his life.

    Reluctantly, he muttered, "Anyway... thank you."

    Citrine''s lips curled into a faint smile. "Don''t mention it. Just remember our little wager."

    At the mention of the bet, Jonah''s face went pale.

    Wade, on the other hand, was brimming with satisfaction. He grinned broadly and said, "Come on, Jonah, time for you to pay up."

    Jonah''s jaw clenched so tightly, it looked like he might crack a tooth. But he squeezed out the words, "I''m sorry, Grandpa."

    He repeated the apology ten times in a row.

    Compared to the humiliation Wade had suffered before, Jonah''s embarrassment now felt even more intense. Realizing this, Wade''s mood visibly soared.

    After fulfilling his end of the bet, Jonah cast Citrine aplicated look, then turned and left.

    "So, do you feel vindicated now?" Citrine asked Wade with augh once the others had gone.

    "All thanks to you, sis," Wade replied, ruffling his sister''s hair with an affectionate grin. "You really helped me save face today."

    A monthter, the Saunders family threw an extravagant wee banquet to celebrate Citrine''s return.

    They invited all the most prominent figures in Crestwood-anyone who was anyone was on the guest list.

    That day, Hilda had arranged for the best styling team in the city to help her daughter get ready.

    When Citrine emerged, the entire Saunders family was left utterly mesmerized by her beauty.

    For years, Hilda had been known as the most stunning woman in the

    Saunders family, but now, with Citrine''s strikingly simr

    features-yet somehow even more breathtaking-she was the new standard.

    In the evening, Citrine arrived at the banquet arm-in-arm with Hilda, both dressed in coordinating gowns from the same collection. The moment they entered, all eyes in the room turned to them.

    "Did you see that? That''s the daughter the Saunders family finally found."

    "My god, she''s gorgeous-almost unreal."

    "President Saunders and her daughter are wearing matching gowns. She must absolutely dote on her."

    "I mean, look at them together! They could pass for sisters instead of mother and daughter."

    At that moment, someone recognized Citrine.

    "Wait a second-isn''t the Saunders family''s long-lost daughter the spitting image

    of the CEO of CICI Group?"

    "Is it possible they''re the same person?"

    "And that''s not even her only identity."

    Tonight''s guest list was full of Crestwood''s elite, many of whom already knew Citrine''s reputation.

    The Saunders family had been a Crestwood institution for generations-powerful and deeply rooted.

    But Citrine was a force in her own

    right: CEO of CICI Group,

    Vl

    chairwoman of the Crestwood Medical Research Center, bestselling author, director of Medical Institute... Each title was more impressive than thest, leaving everyone in awe.

 Chapter 660

    In moments like this, it was hard to say who was luckier Citrine, for being able to return to the Saunders family, or the Saunders family, for finding such an outstanding daughter after all these years.

    With all eyes on them, Hilda led Citrine onto the stage.

    "As many of you know, my daughter went missing eighteen years ago. Only recently did I finally find her. This is the happiest moment I''ve had in all these years," Hilda said, her voice trembling with emotion.

    Citrine quietly reached for Hilda''s hand, offering silentfort.

    Then, right in front of the entire crowd, Hilda made her announcement: "Everyone, Citrine Carmichael is my daughter. From now on, she is part of the Saunders family. I hope you''ll all look out for her."

    Tonight''s banquet was filled with Crestwood''s most influential figures-seasoned, perceptive people. After hearing Hilda''s words, no one had any doubts about her intentions; it was clear President Saunders had said this for their benefit.

    Lately, Citrine had been making waves, and she was already someone most people in Crestwood wouldn''t dare cross. Now, seeing how the Saunders family was embracing her, the guests knew better than ever to pay Citrine the respect she deserved.

    Many of the CEOs in attendance quietly reminded their own sons and daughters to make sure they got on Citrine''s good side.

    With the main announcement out of the way, the formalities dissolved and the guests began to mingle.

    Hilda took her daughter around, introducing her to board members and business partners closely connected with the Saunders family.

    After the rounds of socializing, Hilda was about to take Citrine to get something delicious to eat, when she suddenly caught sight of a familiar figure.

    "Nigel?" Hilda blinked in surprise.

    Hadn''t he said he wouldn''t be able to make it?

    A few days ago, Hilda had called her third brother, inviting him to the family gathering for Citrine, but he''d declined, saying he had business to attend to.

    Now, gently patting her daughter''s head with a fond smile, Hilda said, "Citrine, your Uncle Nigel is here today. Let''s go say hello."

    Citrine didn''t protest, and let Hilda lead her over to a man in a trench coat.

    As they stopped in front of him, Citrine finally got a good look at his face.

    He had a refined, schrly air, though hisplexion was tinged with a faint, unhealthy pallor.

    "Big brother," Hilda greeted him.

    But the man simply nodded, not saying a word.

    There was a definite distance between the siblings, but it seemed they were both used to it.

    Hilda continued naturally, "I''m sure you''ve heard what''s been going on at home."

    Then, gesturing toward Citrine, she added, "This is Citrine your niece."

    At these words, Nigel finally looked at Citrine standing before him.

    So she was the one who had deciphered the meaning behind his painting.

    Some of the coldness in his gaze seemed to thaw.

    Citrine could sense there was no hostility from him. She nodded politely and greeted him, "Uncle Nigel."

    Nigel slipped a hand into his coat pocket and pulled out arge, red envelope, offering it to his niece. "Since this is our first meeting, I brought you a little something."

    "Than Uncle Nigel." Citrine

    nced at the thick envelope in

    after a moment''s

    epted it.

    ove

    Hilda''s expression shifted slightly, a sh of surprise in her eyes.

    his

    Over the years, her third brother had rarelye home and had grown distant from the family; he hardly paid attention to any of his nieces or nephews. Hilda hadn''t expected him to show even this bit of warmth toward Citrine.

 Chapter 661

    Nigel hadn''t nned on attending the family gathering. He only changed his mind when he found out that his little niece-the same girl who''d deciphered his artwork the other day-would be there.

    She was the only person in years who truly understood his paintings. That realization filled him with excitement.

    When he finally met Citrine, he felt an immediate connection, as if he''d found a kindred spirit. Without quite knowing why, he found himself genuinely liking this newfound niece.

    After a bit of small talk, Hilda excused herself, leading her daughter away.

    Partway through, Hilda was gged down by a group of old friends and business associates, and wandered off to catch up with them.

    Feeling a bit bored, Citrine drifted over to the dessert table in search of something sweet.

    She couldn''t help but notice how beautifully presented everything was. The little cakes and pastries looked almost too pretty to eat. Citrine swallowed, her appetite instantly piqued.

    Just as she reached for a delicate pink butterfly-shaped petit four that had caught her eye, a hand shot out and snatched the te from right under her fingertips.

    Startled, Citrine turned and found herself looking at a girl holding the very cake she''d wanted. The girl stared back at her, her gaze sharp, openly hostile.

    It was obvious to anyone watching: this girl was looking for trouble.

    Citrine frowned, her patience thinning. "I saw that cake first."

    The other girl just shrugged, her tone dismissive. "So what? I got to it first. That''s how it works, isn''t it?"

    There was only one butterfly-shaped cake among all the desserts, and Citrine had fallen for it at first nce. Now, having it snatched away felt like a personal affront.

    Worse yet, the cake looked delicious-soft, pink, and sweet. It was a shame she hadn''t even tasted it.

    "Give it back," Citrine said coolly, swallowing her annoyance.

    The girl smirked, as though she''d just heard the punchline to a joke. "Give it back? Really? You want it that badly?"

    Her tone was needling, almost cruel.

    Before Citrine could answer, the girl suddenly smashed the te and cake onto the floor.

    Porcin shattered. The butterfly cake was nothing but a pink, sugary mess.

    "I''d rather waste it than let you have it," the girl sneered, shing Citrine a triumphant, venomous smile.

    She didn''t get far. Before her words had fully left her lips, Citrine pped her- hard.

    "Wasting food deserves a p," Citrine said coldly.

    She plucked a napkin from a passing waiter''s tray and wiped her hand with clear distaste.

    The girl, face flushed and hand pressed to her cheek, red at Citrine, disbelief and outrage etched across her features. "You hit me? How dare you?"

    Citrine gave a short, scornfulugh. "What''s stopping me from hitting someone like you?"

    She''d promised herself long ago: never again would she allow herself to be bullied or wronged. If someone pushed her, she''d push back-harder.

    Leda Marshall was furious. This little brat looked so sweet and innocent on the outside, but her words were enough to make anyone''s blood boil.

    She couldn''t understand why Ms. Saunders would take someone like this home¡ª

    she clearly didn''t deserve to be Ms. Saunders''s daughter.

    If it weren''t for this brat, maybe Ms. Saunders would have chosen her instead Maybe she and her mother

    would be living in the Saunders

    estate right now, with the whole

    family at their feet.

    But ever since this girl had returned, Ms. Saunders hadn''t invited Leda or her

    mother over in ages. Everything had been ruined by her.

    No. She couldn''t let this brat steal Ms. Saunders''s affection.

    As Leda fumed, her gaze caught Hilda talking with a group nearby their little circle was just steps from the dessert table An idea

    began to take shape.

 Chapter 662

    The sting on her cheek was burning, but suddenly, Leda had a new idea.

    Right in front of everyone, she copsed dramatically to the floor, clutching her face and wailing, "Ms. Carmichael, how could you hit me? Even if I identally knocked over the cake, you can''t just p me!"

    Her voice rang out loud and shrill, her cries exaggerated and desperate, drawing a crowd almost instantly.

    People began murmuring, each with their own reaction.

    "Wow, and here I thought the Saunders family''s heiress was some kind of saint. Turns out she''s an abuser at heart. Who hits someone over a piece of cake?"

    "It was just an ident-a cake can be reced! But hitting someone? That''spletely out of line."

    In the midst of lively conversation with a few guests, Hilda heard themotion. Her brow furrowed as she made her way over.

    She spotted Leda sitting on the floor and couldn''t help but ask, "Leda, why are you sitting there?"

    Hearing the concern in Hilda''s voice, Leda felt a surge of satisfaction. She''d always known Ms. Saunders cared about her. So what if Citrine was her real daughter? They''d only been reunited for a few days-how much affection could there possibly be?

    Ms. Saunders and her mother had been lifelong friends, and Hilda had treated Leda almost like her own child, covering all her expenses every year. Every summer, Leda would stay with Ms. Saunders for weeks at a time; once, Hilda had even talked about making her an official goddaughter.

    With all that love, surely that wouldn''t change just because her real daughter hade back.

    Putting on her most pitiful face, Leda sniffled andined to Hilda, "Ms. Saunders, I''m so sorry. I identally knocked the cake out of my sister''s hands."

    She paused, then added in a tiny, trembling voice, "She got really mad and pped me. My face hurts so much."

    ¡°But it''s not really her fault,¡± Leda added quickly, as if defending Citrine, though her tone dripped with wounded innocence. "She probably didn''t mean it."

    Hilda''s expression darkened, her features growing colder with every word. After years in the business world, she''d seen every manner of maniptor-this kind of petty drama was nothing new. A bit of cunning in a young woman was understandable, but not when it was turned against her own daughter.

    Leda was her

    er best friend''s

    child-Hilda had watched her grow up. After her own daughter

    disappeared all those years ago

    Leda and her mother had often visited tofort her. Hilda bad always remembered that kindness, and, at her friend''s urging, had once even considered making Leda her goddaughter.

    She''d truly loved this girl, once. But hearing her now, slinging usations at Citrine, every drop of that affection vanished.

    In Hilda''s heart, Citrine would alwayse first.

    She was about to set the record straight when she suddenly caught sight of her daughter''s eyes. Citrine looked uncertain, anxious, and deeply worried.

    Hilda understood at once her daughter must think she''d take Leda''s side.

    Afraid Citrine might misunderstand further, Hilda felt an urgent need to reassure her.

    Turning to Leda, her voice frosty as ice, she snapped, "Enough."

    Then, fixing her gaze on her daughter standing quietly to the side, she said gently but firmly, "Citrine, tell me exactly what happened. I only trust your word."

 Chapter 663

    Seeing that Hilda didn''t scold her as Leda had hoped, the icy look in Citrine''s eyes softened a little.

    Her voice was calm. "She took my cake, so I pped her."

    Leda, eyes red and brimming with tears, dabbed at her cheeks and looked pitifully at Hilda. "Aunt Hilda, I didn''t. I just knocked over the cake by ident."

    "I didn''t think my sister''s temper would be so bad. I can''t believe she hit me just for that."

    As she spoke, she shot a frightened look at Citrine, as if she''d been bullied into silence.

    Hilda''s expression darkened, her face clouded and unreadable. She said nothing ¡ªan ominous calm before the storm.

    Leda''s heart leapt with hope.

    She suddenly remembered something from a few years back. Her mother had taken her to a party, but since the Swift family wasn''t well-regarded in Crestwood, the other privileged kids had ganged up on her. They''d yanked her hair, shoved her, and kicked her while she was down.

    That was when Hilda had appeared.

    She''d stepped between Leda and her tormentors, sending the lot of them fleeing with a single re.

    Hilda had told them, "Leda is under my protection. If anyone daresy a finger on her again, the Saunders family won''t let it slide."

    Leda still remembered the look in Hilda''s eyes that day. It was the same as now- her face tight with anger.

    Clearly, Ms. Saunders was furious.

    This time, that wretched Citrine was in real trouble.

    Leda could barely contain her excitement; her eyes even sparkled as she looked

    at Hilda, anticipating that, like before, Hilda would rush to her defense.

    But this time, the silence stretched on. Hilda didn''t say a word.

    Leda, sensing her moment slipping away, opened her mouth to y the victim again, hoping to win some sympathy.

    Suddenly, a sharp pnded across her cheek.

    The crack echoed through the room.

    Leda staggered, clutching her face, stunned. "Ms. Saunders, you-you hit me?"

    Everyone knew Hilda and her mother had always been close. Over the years, Hilda had watched over her, even agreeing when her mother suggested making Leda her goddaughter.

    She''d always thought of Hilda as a second mother. Hilda had been so good to her -how could she turn on her now, just for Citrine?

    Leda couldn''t understand it.

    Citrine might be Hilda''s real

    daughter, but she''d been missing for years. How close could they possibly be, after eighteen years apart? Besides, Citrine didn''t seem to care about Ms. Saunders at all not like Leda, who always knew how to cheer her up.

    It was obvious Ms. Saunders enjoyed herpany more than Citrine''s icy distance.

    Bitterness welted up inside Leda. She pleaded, voice trembling, ¡°Ms. Saunders, have you forgotten? All those times you stood up for me, all the times you told everyone I was yours to protect. You spoiled me doesn''t that mean anything now?"

    She looked at Hilda, hope flickering desperately in her eyes.

    Hilda gazed back, her voice cold and measured. "Yes, I protected you. I looked out for you. But don''t think it was because I loved you. It was only because you were the same age as my daughter. Every time I saw you, I thought of her."

    Leda shook her head, refusing to ept it. "I don''t believe you. You say I reminded you of your daughter, but there are plenty of girls her age. Why was it only me? Why did you care for me, help me, treat me like I was special?"

 Chapter 664

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh out loud when she heard that.

    How could anyone be so full of themselves? She''d truly never seen someone quite like this before.

    Hilda took a deep breath, exasperated. "Please, stop ttering yourself," she said. "Ever since Citrine went missing all those years ago, it hasn''t just been you. Whenever I came across a girl around my daughter''s age, no matter who she was, if she was in trouble, I''d do everything I could to help."

    She paused for a moment before continuing, her voice softer. "I did all of this to build up good karma for my daughter. I just hoped that maybe, by doing so, God would watch over me and help me find her sooner."

    Even now, Hilda was deeply grateful for all those things she''d done. Maybe she really had umted enough good will, and that''s why-by some miracle¡ª she''d finally found her Citrine.

    It was the first time Citrine had ever heard any of this. Outwardly, she seemed unmoved, her expression unreadable, but her eyes reflected a storm of emotion.

    She''d never imagined her mother was out there, trying to earn blessings for her in such a way. What made her happiest, though, was knowing her mother had never forgotten her.

    Citrine couldn''t help but wonder: if she and her mother had never reunited, would her mom still be out there, seeing every bright-eyed college girl and thinking of the daughter who should have been living her best years in the sunlight?

    That kind of longing filled her heart with warmth and a little ache.

    Citrine''s feelings were a tangled knot of joy, gratitude, and sorrow. Across from her, Leda seemed on the verge of breaking down as she listened, absolutely refusing to ept what she was hearing.

    Leda''s voice trembled as she shouted, "No way¡ªMrs. Saunders, you and my mom have always been close friends! You''ve always treated me so well, and you even promised my mom you''d take me in as your goddaughter. Mrs. Saunders, there''s no way you could forget that!"

    Her eyes were wide, her emotions running high.

    But at those words, Hilda went pale as a sheet. For a moment, panic shed across her face. She turned hastily to her daughter, anxious to exin "Citrine, I swear, I never once agreed to take in a goddaughter. As for having another child, that was never an option. Years ago, I made a vow: whether I ever found you or not, you would be my only daughter. There would never be anyone else."

    There would never be anyone else.

    Citrine smiled softly. That was exactly what she wanted to hear.

    She was selfish and maybe a little possessive; she didn''t want to share her parents with anyone. Their love belonged to her, and even the thought of giving a piece of it away was unbearable.

    "I believe you, Mom," Citrine said, raising her eyebrows with a bright, happy look.

    When she saw her daughter wasn''t upset and seemed perfectly fine, Hilda finally breathed a long sigh of relief. The worry that had been weighing on her all this time finally eased.

    Turning back to Leda, Hilda''s expression grew firm andposed.

    "Leda, let me make things clear for you, once and for all. Listen carefully."

    "First, your mother was never my close friend. She was just a client, nothing more. After all, the Saunders family and the Swift family move inpletely different circles; I would never have socialized with people from your background."

    "Second, I never agreed to take you as my goddaughter. It''s true, your mother brought it up once, but didn''t answer her. I only stayed silent because I didn''t want to embarrass her in front of everyone."

    "And finally, the only reason I was ever kind to you was because you reminded me

    of my daughter, nothing else."

 Chapter 665

    Leda''s heart sank all the way to the floor.

    Only now did she realize that the favoritism she''d always been so proud of was nothing but a cruel joke.

    She stared hard at Hilda, eyes burning with resentment.

    If Hilda hadn''t insisted on "saving" her back then, none of this would''ve happened -no misunderstandings, no humiliation, and certainly not this spectacr public disgrace. In Leda''s mind, it was all Hilda''s fault.

    Hilda strode toward her, gaze sharp and unyielding, issuing a cold warning. "If you hadn''t gone after my daughter, maybe I would''ve kept treating you well. But you crossed the line. No oneys a finger on my little girl. Not while I''m still breathing."

    Her voice was icy, her presence radiating the steely resolve of a businesswoman about to close a high-stakes deal or start a fight.

    Whatever defiance Leda had left quickly evaporated. She shrank back, suddenly listless and defeated.

    Hilda shot her a withering nce, then stepped closer, hooking a finger under Leda''s chin before gripping her jaw with surprising force.

    Her smile was mocking. "Leda, what do you suppose Mr. and Mrs. Marshall would think if they found out their precious daughter was falling over herself to be my goddaughter? How do you think they''d feel?"

    She paused for effect, then raised her voice theatrically. "Oh dear, do you think they''d realize they raised an ungrateful brat?"

    Her tone turned sly. "Oh, and one more thing-I almost forgot. I need to confirm something with you."

    Before Leda could respond, Hilda continued, "I heard the Marshalls adopted you from an orphanage, isn''t that right?"

    She leaned in, voice dropping to a taunting whisper. "So, what do you think would happen if everyone learned you''re actually the Swift family''s adopted daughter?"

    Leda''s face went pale. She lunged forward, grabbing Hilda''s hand in panic. "No! Please, you can''t tell them. Don''t let them find out!"

    She dropped to her knees, desperate. "I-I''m begging you. Please don''t tell my mom and dad."

    If they found out, she was finished.

    Her voice trembled with pleading.

    The Swift family wasn''t exactly high society, but they had some clout in their own circles.

    Leda had always looked down on the Marshalls'' tacky, nouveau riche ways. But those fools doted on her, handed her generous allowances, and indulged her every whim?

    Parents like that were a rare find.

    Leda wasn''t stupid. She''d

    desperately wanted Hilda''s

    approval wanted to be Hilda''s

    goddaughter and soar to new

    heights-but clearly, that n had crashed and burned.

    Now, the Swift family was her only safety, and there was no way she''d let it get cut off.

    Hilda, who was usually tolerant of girls Citrine''s age, showed no mercy this time¡ª nobody hurt her daughter and got away with it.

    She sneered at Leda, lips curling in disdain. "I''ll make sure to tell Mr. and Mrs. Marshall exactly what you just told me. Every word.¡±

    "Good luck," she added coldly.

    With that, Hilda took her daughter and walked away.

    Leda had never imagined Hilda would actually tattle to her parents. She thought

    she was in the clear-now, everything was truly ruined.

    Her face was ashen.

    That evening, when she returned to the Swift house, her heart was pounding in her throat.

    She tried to act casual, heading for her room as if nothing were wrong.

    But when she opened her door, the sight that greeted her made her freeze in disbelief.

    Every piece of furniture had been cleared out. Refusing to believe it

    she rushed to the walk-in closet, only

    to find itpletely empty not a single piece of clothing or jewelry left.  s?novel

    She ran to the bathroom. It, too, was stripped bare.

 Chapter 666

    What... what on earth was happening?

    All of her things were gone.

    Leda''s mind raced. A sudden thought struck her, draining the color from her face ¡ªbut she quickly forced herself to calm down, smoothing her expression until it was perfectlyposed.

    Of course. That''s right. Her adoptive parents, the Marshalls, had always doted on her, eager to please her, desperate for her approval. Even if Hilda had told them what happened today, they''d never believe it. They loved her too much.

    That exined it-why her bedroom had been emptied out.

    They must be nning to redecorate, to surprise her with something special. Yes, that had to be it.

    With thisforting thought, Leda waited, pacing and ncing at the clock until six-then seven-when finally, Mr. and Mrs. Marshall came home.

    The moment she saw them, Leda rushed over, flinging herself into their arms.

    "Mom, Dad, you''re finally home! I missed you so much," she whimpered, clinging to them, her voice trembling as she tried to sound as pitiful as possible.

    In the past, her little acts of affection would have melted the Marshalls'' hearts, making them eager to give her the very best the world had to offer.

    But tonight, no matter how much Leda poured on the charm, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Marshall said a word.

    A wave of panic crashed over her. She tightened her grip on them, as if afraid they might slip away.

    But the next instant, both Marshalls harshly pried her hands away and shoved her aside.

    Leda''s face went pale. She looked up at them, her voice barely more than a whisper. ¡°Did I do something wrong? Why are you treating me like this all of a sudden?" Her words wereced with hurt.

    Once, the Marshalls would have been moved by her tears. Now, Mrs. Marshall looked at her with nothing but disgust.

    Suppressing the urge to retch, Mrs. Marshall pped Leda hard across the face. Her voice was cold as ice. "You''re worse than a stray off the street. All these years, our love was wasted on a thankless wretch."

    Suddenly, Mrs. Marshall seemed to remember something. "Everything in your room was bought by us. None of it belongs to you. So we threw it all out. The way we took you in from the orphanage-now you can leave the same way. From now on, you''re not our daughter anymore."

    With that, she pushed Leda sharply to the floor, her face twisted with revulsion.

    Leda was

    enned. The parents w once loved her so fiercelyal

    have died for her were now

    her out like a stranger.

    No. She couldn''t leave. She couldn''t lose the Marshalls.

    She remembered the orphanage the hunger, the cold, the constant humiliation. Her face went chalk-white.

    Scrambling off the floor, Leda dropped to her knees before them, sobbing uncontrobly.

    "Please, Mom, Dad, don''t do this. I have no one but you. If you throw me out, where am I supposed to go?"

    Afraid Mrs. Marshall might hesitate, Mr. Marshall stepped forward and shoved Leda toward the front door.

    "I don''t care where you go, but you''re leaving now. Get out of my house," he said, voice cold as steel.

    Then, with a thin, mocking smile, he added, "We have a new member joining our family today. Don''t get in the way."

    He gave Leda another push, clearing the entrance.

    Just then, a little girl peeked out from behind him¡ªa sweet, cherubic face.

    "Leda,

    with Daddy?" Mr. Marshall said, his

    elet

    with don''t youe home tong, just as he used to speak

    to Leda herself.

    Hearing him call the little girl "Leda," the real Leda''s face twisted in shock and disbelief.

    What was this supposed to mean? They were giving her name to some brat? Fury and humiliation burned in her chest.

    Before she could process it, the little girl ran straight into Mr. Marshall''s arms.

    "Daddy, I want to go home with you."

 Chapter 667

    Leda was finally,pletely cast out of the Swift family.

    By the time Citrine heard about it, three days had already passed.

    When she saw the news, a slow smile curled on Citrine''s lips, her eyes shining with growing amusement.

    After this, everyone could see clearly just how much the Saunders family valued Citrine.

    It was May, and the weather was turning hot.

    That afternoon, as Citrine stepped out of school, she spotted a familiar figure waiting in the distance.

    He was hard to miss¡ªa man in a crisp white shirt and tailored ck trousers, the kind of good looks that naturally drew attention in any crowd.

    Just by standing there, he attracted a steady stream of girls, each one hoping to catch his eye.

    One bold girl, pretty and confident, couldn''t resist. She walked right up to him and asked, "Hey handsome, can I get your number?¡±

    The man, distracted, kept ncing past her, clearly searching for someone else. Only when she spoke did he finally look at her just a single nce before turning away.

    Theo''s voice was cold and impatient. "Move along."

    The girl, stung in front of her friends, flushed with embarrassment. She didn''t back down, though. Instead, she shouted, "With an attitude like that, I hope you never get the girl you want!"

    With that, she stormed off, dragging her friends with her in a swirl of wounded pride.

    Theo barely registered the scene. His gaze was fixed elsewhere, waiting. Finally, the moment Citrine emerged from the building, his eyes lit up.

    "Citrine!" He called out, loud enough for everyone to hear.

    She ignored him and kept walking, pretending not to notice. Theo panicked and hurried after her. "Citrine, wait! Don''t go.

    He couldn''t describe the relief he''d felt when he first learned she was safe. He''d tried for days to run into her, but every time he missed

    her until today. Today, he was

    determined to talk.

    He''d even won the exact same clothes he had on the day, in their past life, when they''d first gotten together. He hoped it might stir her memory, that she''d remember everything they shared and fall for him again.

    Theo believed he had a real chance.

    He caught up in a few long strides, blocking her path before she could slip away.

    "Citrine, look at what I''m wearing," he said, nearly breathless with excitement.

    What was so special about his clothes? It was just a shirt and pants. Did he expect apuse?

    Citrine didn''t bother to hide her irritation. "What you wear isn''t my concern. Get lost." She rolled her eyes, dramatic and unbothered.

    Theo pressed on, undaunted. "But look! These clothes mean so much to us. Don''t you remember?"

    He was sure she had memories of their past life he just wanted her to remember the ten years they''d shared.

    His eyes pleaded with hope.

    But when Citrine met his gaze, revulsion shed across her face. "You''re sick," she snapped.

    She tried to leave, but Theo blocked her again.

    A flicker of pain crossed his eyes. He sounded wounded. "Do you really not remember?"

    "Remember what?" Citrine shot back, exasperated.

    "These are the clothes I wore the day we made it official. You told me

    I looked great. Have you really et

    forgotten everything? All tengears we had?"

    Thunderstruck, Citrine froze.

    He¡ªhe remembered their past life too?

    He''d been reborn, just like her.

 Chapter 668

    Theo raised his hand, his expression earnest and solemn. "Citrine, whatever I did wrong in my past life, I swear I''ll make it up to you this time. I promise, I''ll treat you right."

    Hearing this, Citrine couldn''t help butugh in disbelief, the sound sharp with anger.

    So he remembers the past, does he? Then he shouldn''t have forgotten what he did. The nerve he had, standing here and making these promises as if nothing happened it was nauseating.

    She dropped all pretenses, her tone turning icy as sheid it bare. "If you really remember everything, then do us both a favor and stay as far away from me as possible."

    By the end, her words wereced with barely contained fury.

    But Theo''s eyes lit up as if she''d handed him hope. "I knew it, Citrine. I knew you remembered us. There''s no way you could just forget ten years together."

    Ever since those memories of their previous life hade rushing back, Theo had been living with a sharp, gnawing ache in his chest.

    Citrine''s death had be a wound that would never heal. After she died, he''d spent countless nights wide awake, haunted by regret and only then realizing how deeply he loved her.

    After he''d avenged her-hunting down everyst member of the Iverson family¡ª he''d ended his own life. He couldn''t bear the thought of her walking through the afterlife alone. He had to be there with her.

    A flicker of madness gleamed in Theo''s eyes. "Citrine, I know I failed you before. But I got revenge for you. Everyone who hurt you¡ªI killed them all. After you died,

    I made sure the entire Iverson family paid, even Jete."

    Citrine let out a bitterugh, as if she''d just heard a joke. "Revenge, huh? And what about you?"

    Theo faltered, confused.

    She pressed on, her voice growing ever colder. "You''re the one who stole my kidney. You''re the one who kept hurting me, over and over. You cheated on me with Jete. I trusted you, but the deepest wounds came from you. Isn''t it obvious? The worst viin was always you."

    Her words were cial now, every syble razor-sharp. "You want to avenge me? Then the person you should have killed is yourself."

    Theo''s heart lurched, his breath catching.

    Before he could manage a response, Citrine leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you really want to make it up to me, it''s not toote."

    A spark of hope shed in Theo''s eyes. He thought he was getting through to her, his lips curling into a tentative smile. "Tell me, Citrine Whatever it takes to make you forgive me, I''ll do it."

    Citrine shed a disarmingly innocent smile and murmured in his ear, "Go die."

    The smile vanished from Theo''s face in an instant, his eyes losing their light.

    "You... do you really hate me that much?¡± he stammered, disbelief clouding his features. They''d shared ten years together-how could she hate him so much that she''d rather see him dead?

    Citrine gave a short, mirthlessugh, her disappointment clear. "Looks like you''re not going to do it, huh?"

    She sighed, shaking her head. "You could''ve just said so from the start. All that talk about revenge and you can''t even follow through. What a waste of my time."

    She turned and walked away, not sparing him another nce.

    Theo couldn''t stop her; all he could do was hurry after her.

    Trailing at her side, desperation bled into his voice. "Citrine, I know I made terrible mistakes, but you can''t just write me off. Don''t I deserve a second chance?"

    Citrine corrected him, her tone cial. "No, Theo. You didn''t make a mistake. Youmitted a crime."

    She looked him dead in the eye, her voice cutting to the bone. "Forced organ transnts are illegal."

    Theo''s face went deathly pale, but soon another thought seemed to take hold, reviving a sliver of hope in his eyes. "Citrine, I know I deserved to die in my past life. But in this life, there''s no Jete, no Iversons-just us. We could start over. I swear, I''ll never let anyone hurt you again."

    §á§à§Û

 Chapter 669

    Sometimes, when words fail you, they really do.

    Citrine almostughed out of sheer exasperation. "Theo? Are you naive, or just hopelessly innocent?"

    "So you think starting over just wipes away all the pain from ourst lives? That everything I suffered just disappears?"

    Theo pressed his lips together, only now realizing how impatient he sounded. He rushed to apologize. "I''m sorry, Citrine. I... that''s not what I meant."

    He quickly tried to exin himself, words tumbling out. "I know what I did before was unforgivable. I''m not expecting you to forget any of it. I just want you to know that this time around, I want to make it right. I want to atone for what I''ve done- with my actions, not just words."

    Atone? Atone for what, you jerk.

    If it weren''t for the fact that she''d had a decent education, she would''ve cussed him out right then and there.

    Citrine was at the end of her patience, her voice turning sharp. "You just said yourself what you did was unforgivable. So tell me why should I forgive you? Why should I give you another shot just so you can ''atone'' for your sins? What am I, your prop? Is this just a chance for you to make yourself feel better-using your so-called redemption as an excuse to keep making me miserable? Spare me. Just stay the hell away from me."

    She paused, an unpleasant memory shing through her mind. "Theo, have you forgotten about you making me give Kali a transfusion-bothst time and this time around? Or the little kidnapping stunt you and your father pulled on me not long ago?"

    She pointed to her chest. "I took a bullet-right here because of you and your father. I nearly died."

    Theo''s mouth went dry. He stared at her, unable to get a word out.

    But Citrine wasn''t finished. "Don''t kid yourself. It''s not just that I can''t stand you-l hate you. We have real, blood-deep grudges between us."

    "Your precious Glenwood family had me dragged off to Mirage Cay, tortured me, stole every scrap of my research. I''d love nothing more than to see you all rot."

    She hesitated for a moment, then smiled coldly.

    "As for your father, don''t worry-he''s next on my list. I''ll make sure he repays every bit of what I suffered, a thousand times over."

    Theo felt his heart sink, slow and heavy. The things he''d tried so hard to avoid, she''d finally said them out loud.

    He hesitated, then asked the question gnawing at him. "When did you find out Mirage Cay was connected to my family?"

    Citrine answered tly, "Last time."

    Theo''s heart thudded. He pressed, "When exactly?"

    Citrine saw right through his intent. She didn''t even pause. ¡°No need to fish for details. After I escaped Mirage Cayst time, it took me about a year to find the first clue. I wanted to dig deeper, to get my revenge. But then I met you."

    She didn''t finish the sentence, but Theo understood.

    "So... the reason you never went after the Glenwoods was because of me?"

    Citrine shook her head. "No. It''s not that I didn''t go after your family. I just didn''t dig as deep as I could have."

    Back then she''d loved Theo so

    much she''d lost all sense. The truth about Mirage Cay was almost in her grasp, but she''d destroyed every lead herself.

    Thinking about it now, she could barely believe how stupid she''d been.

    "Citrine." Theo''s throat was tight. He couldn''t get another word out.

    She''d given up revenge, given up on reiming her stolen research, all for him. How much must she have loved him to go that far?

    Theo''s face was clouded with guilt, and Citrine, worried he''d get some self-pitying ideas, cut him off. "Don''t get it twisted. I regret it, you know Letting you off is exactly why myst life was so miserable. That''s why this time, I''m making the right choice."

    "Theo, see? Without you and the Iversons in my life, I''m thriving."

    She turned away, leaving him with just one final warning.

    "I have things to do. Don''t follow me. If you do, I''ll call the police."

 Chapter 670

    This time, Theo didn''t follow her.

    He stood there, frozen in ce for a long while before finally wandering off, looking utterly lost.

    That afternoon, Citrine arranged to meet Sebastian Vesper-a friend she hadn''t seen in ages.

    She''d mulled over this meeting for weeks, so today, she was determined to go through with it.

    When she reached the restaurant, Citrine nced at her watch. She was already about ten minuteste.

    Silently, she cursed Theo for making herte, drew a steadying breath, and headed into the private dining room she''d reserved.

    Sebastian was already inside, waiting.

    He wore a crisp ck dress shirt and tailored ck cks, the outfit emphasizing his broad shoulders and slim waist. The whole look radiated a cool,manding confidence.

    For a moment, Citrine felt almost disoriented, unsure which side of Sebastian she was about to encounter.

    That uncertainty faded when he stood up, greeting her with a gentle, affectionate smile.

    He looked genuinely happy to see her, his voice tinged with excitement. "Citrine, you''re here!"

    Good-it was the softer side of him today.

    Citrine smiled in relief and took the seat beside him. "Sorry I''mte. A dog blocked my way and wouldn''t stop barking, no matter what I did. That''s why I''mte."

    "It''s alright. I''m just relieved you''re okay," Sebastian replied quickly.

    He couldn''t put into words how happy he was to get her call.

    Not long ago, he''d fallen into a strange, deep sleep. When he finally woke, he''d heard the shocking news: Citrine Carmichael-the Carmichael family''s eldest daughter-had died.

    He refused to believe it. Several times, he''d tried to visit her at Crestwood Medical Research Center, only to be turned away at the entrance.

    Not being able to see her had nearly driven him mad with worry.

    A few dayster, he finally saw online that her condition had stabilized. Only then

    did he allow himself the slightest bit of relief.

    So when he got her call today, he was almost giddy.

    Sebastian hadn''t told Citrine that, after they''d set the meeting time he''de to this restaurant in the morning and waited from eight until their two o''clock appointment, just to be certain he wouldn''t miss her.

    Once they settled in and ced their orders, the conversation turned casual.

    "Citrine, I''m sorry. I was unconscious for a while and only just found out what happened to you," Sebastian said his voice heavy with guilt, as if he''dmitted some terrible crime.

    Citrine chuckled. ¡°Sebastian, it''s not like you''re the one who caused my ident.

    If anyone should feel guilty, it''s the people who actually did something wrong."

    Sebastian pressed his lips together, saying nothing.

    How could he ever admit that it pained him deeply not to be by her side when her life was in danger? That he''d been powerless, unable to even see her, left him utterly helpless.

    Sensing this, Citrine wisely let the matter drop.

    They chatted for a while longer. After afortable pause, Sebastian finally asked, "So, what did you want to talk about today?"

    Citrine hesitated before answering. "I want to offer you the position of CEO at ourpany."

    Sebastian was mid-sip when she said it and nearly choked on his water.

    Citrine looked him straight in the eye. "You can name your sry."

    "I... Can I ask why you want me for the job?" Sebastian was clearly baffled. Citrine held his gaze for a long moment.

    Why hire him? The answer was simple: as chairwoman of Steris Group, she knew talent when she saw it.

    But more than that, she was determined to build CICI Group into thergest business empire, unrivaled in Crestwood.

    Of course, two tigers can''t rule the same mountain. Steris Group was likely to be her biggestpetitor, so she needed to get ¨¤ head start-learn the inner workings of Steris, understand the

    chairman''s methods and habits, and anticipate their moves.

    Know your enemy, and you''ll never lose.

    Besides, someone as capable as Sebastian on her team could only benefit the<ppany.

 Chapter 671

    Citrine smiled, her gaze fixed intently on Sebastian. "I''ve reviewed your r¨¦sum¨¦. Impressive¡ªjust what I was hoping for."

    She made no effort to hide her satisfaction or admiration. Her eyes lingered on him, burning with a kind of hungry approval.

    Sebastian found himself momentarily stunned.

    If she weren''t looking at him as though he were a piece of meat and she the wolf, he might have wondered if she was flirting with him.

    When he didn''t respond right away, Citrine assumed he had reservations.

    Her eyes flickered as she leaned in, her tone sincere. "You can name your sry -whatever you want, it''s yours. Take your time to think it over. I''m in no rush for an answer, but my offer stands."

    Despite her words, she had little doubt he''d ept-unless, of course, his so- called affection was as flimsy as a paper mask, ready to crumble under scrutiny. She''d known for a long time now that his second personality was drawn to her.

    And if he liked her-well, she wasn''t about to feel guilty for using that to her advantage.

    Sebastian''s ownpany was still in its infancy, but already on the rise. Soon, he''d have carved out a ce for himself in Crestwood''s business circles.

    If he suddenly abandoned his startup to join CICI Group, it would be a blow-not just to his team, or to President Vesper''s businessmunity, but most of all to his own hard-won momentum. The opportunity for hispany to reach new heights might slip right through his fingers.

    Sebastian understood that. And so did Citrine.

    She knew she was being unfair, putting him in a tight spot. But she had sworn, after everything she''d been through, that she''d never let anyone walk over her again¡ªnot Steris Group, not anyone. She wanted money, power, and prestige, and she wouldn''t give anyone the chance to trample her dreams.

    Sebastian''s primary personality had a rocky history with her. She had no idea if that bastard would try to hurt her in the future-but she wasn''t about to leave that risk hanging over her head. Better to act first, to make sure his second personality wiped out the threat entirely.

    After all, no one knows your weaknesses better than you do yourself.

    As Sebastian stared at the floor,

    silent, the hope in Citrine''s

    eyes

    to fade. In that instant, fondness for him dropped- a notch.

    Her lips curled into a faint, mocking smile.

    So much for his feelings, she thought. Just empty words, after all.

    At that moment, Sebastian looked up and caught the sh of disdain in her eyes.

    Had he done something wrong?

    He hesitated, bewildered.

    Sensing his gaze, Citrine quicklyposed herself, masking her true feelings behind a neutral expression.

    "It''s fine," she said softly. "The choice is yours. You''re free to decline."

    Sebastian figured he must have imagined her earlier look, so he let it go.

    After a pause, curiosity got the

    better of him "You''re the

    chairwoman of Viridis Medical chairwoman

    Institute and Crestwood Medical Research Center. You have ess to the best medical resources in the world. You''re also a bestselling author, and now CICI Group has firmly established itself in Crestwood-it''s growing faster than ever. I don''t get it. Yourpany is thriving, which means you must have a solid team in ce. So why do you want me as your general manager?"

    He genuinely couldn''t see what difference he could make to her already sessful business.

    Citrine fell silent for a couple of

    el

    seconds, considering his words. Then she answered, "You''re

    right CICI Group is doing well. But for me, that''s not enough."

    She met his gaze, her voice unwavering. "My goal is to surpass Steris Group.¡±

 Chapter 672

    "Steris Group?" Sebastian''s eyes flickered with recognition.

    He''d definitely heard of them before. Though the Steris Group kept a low profile and rarely made waves in public, it was hands down the most powerful corporation in Crestwood-shrouded in mystery and strength.

    The chairman of Steris Group was the first to ever forge a business alliance, and the power he wielded was immense.

    Citrine noticed the crease forming between Sebastian''s brows and spoke with a rare solemnity. "I have a score to settle with the chairman of Steris Group. He once nearly killed me. Between us, it''s a fight to the death¡ªif I don''t take down hispany, he''ll never let me go."

    She might have been exaggerating a little, but she wasn''t lying.

    After all, Sebastian''s primary personality had once thrown her into a tank full of piranhas. That was a real event.

    Sebastian''s expression turned grave at her words. "What? He almost killed you?"

    Citrine nodded, feigning a hint of vulnerability as she recounted what Sebastian''s other self had done. "He tossed me into a tank of piranhas. I barely made it out alive."

    A cold rage shed in Sebastian''s eyes. To think he''d once idolized someone capable of treating Citrine so cruelly-what a fool he''d been.

    He fell silent for a moment, then spoke with quiet determination. "I''m in."

    "What?" Citrine blinked, momentarily thrown off.

    He repeated, "I''ll take the CEO position at CICI Group."

    Just like that?

    "You''re sure you don''t need to think it over?" Citrine stared at him, wide-eyed, genuinely surprised by his decisiveness.

    Sebastian smiled lightly. "If you need me, there''s nothing to consider."

    The chairman of Steris Group had already tried to feed Citrine to the sharks- who knew what he''d do next? Steris Group had to go down.

    "In that case, you can start whenever you like, Name your

    sry whatever you want."Cel

    lips curved into a triumphant smile, satisfaction glimmering in her eyes.

    Meanwhile, no one at SC Group had any idea their hopelessly lovestruck chairman had just been poached by CICI Group to be CEO, no less.

    In the history of business,

    time anyone had ever seen apany poach an entire boss-and actually seed.

    How easy must their boss have been to poach?

    Later that night, after parting ways with Citrine, Sebastian headed straight to the office.

    He called an emergency board meeting, gathering every director in thepany.

    He didn''t beat around the bush. He announced his decision to step down right then and there.

    The board members stared at him, wide-eyed in disbelief.

    "Chairman, are you joking?" one finally sputtered. "Who in their right mind gives up being their own boss just to work for someone else? Have you lost your mind?¡±

    Unfazed, Sebastian replied earnestly, "My mind''s made up."

    Director Green''s nerves shot through the roof. "Sir, it''s not April Fool''s Day- please, don''t scare us like this!"

    "I''m not joking," Sebastian said, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

    That sent the board into a panic.

    Someone tried to reason with him. "Sir, isn''t being your own boss the dream? Don''t you know how hard it is to be someone else''s employee?"

    "Hard?" Sebastian scoffed inwardly. He''d do anything for her. Compared to being with the woman he loved nothing else even registered. He''d happily take orders from her-or even be herpdog. Far from hardship, this was pure happiness.

 Chapter 673

    The directors around the table stared at Sebastian, each of their faces twisted with a mixture of shock and exasperation.

    If it weren''t for Sebastian''s remarkable abilities and his almost uncanny business sense, several of them would have voted him out right then and there.

    They swallowed their frustration and tried to reason with him, their voices earnest and pleading. "Chairman, thepany''s on the rise right now we can''t do this without you. Every department is waiting on your decisions."

    But Sebastian had already mapped out his n. He replied, ¡°Just send me any documents that need my approval. As for day-to-day management, let the general manager handle it for now. This is a good chance for the team to gain some experience."

    That was out of the question. The only reason thepany had soared so high was Sebastian''s leadership. How could anyone else possibly fill his shoes, even temporarily? The thought was unthinkable.

    One board member, unable to contain himself, mmed a fist on the table and stood up. "Mr. Vesper, you need to reconsider!"

    Another director, eyes rimmed red, chimed in desperately, "That''s right! If this is about money, whatever CICI Group offered, we''ll double it. Isn''t that enough?"

    Director Steward added, "Chairman, just tell us who from thatpany tried to poach you. I''ll go have a word with that snake myself."

    Sebastian, who had been impassive until now, shot to his feet the moment he heard that.

    "Enough. Don''t you dare talk about her." There was anger zing in his eyes.

    The room fell instantly silent. Director Steward shrank back in his chair, visibly startled.

    But Sebastian wasn''t about to let them off so easily. He said coldly, "If SC Group really can''t function without me breathing down its neck every day, then you should all pull your investments now. Thispany would be doomed anyway."

    The directors nched at his words, suddenly panicking.

    "No, wait, please don''t ask us to withdraw! We haven''t made nearly enough following your lead."

    "Exactly, Mr. Vesper. If you really want to go, then go. While you''re away, we''ll make good use of this time to learn how to actually run things around here."

    "That''s right, just don''t break up with us, okay? We''ll manage however you want."

    Their earlier protests evaporated; now they were all smiles and ttery, scrambling to please Sebastian.

    Seeing that Sebastian was clearly set on joining CICI Group as their CEO, no one dared to object further.

    Unanimous agreement atst. Perfect.

    Sebastian was thoroughly satisfied with the oue.

    After the meeting, the directors didn''t return to their offices right away. Instead, they huddled together in the hallway, whispering about what had just happened.

    "Did anyone else think Mr. Vesper was a little off today?" one of them said, tapping his temple meaningfully.

    "Seriously, who in their right mind leaves their ownpany to go work for someone else¡ªeven if it is as CEO at CICI Group? I just don''t get his logic."

    "I mean, sure, CICI Group is

    impressive, but at the end of the day he''d still be working for someo

    else. Nothing beats being 19

    your own boss, building your own legacy."

    "I can''t imagine what kind of offer they threw at him to make him walk away from

    everything he''s built just to take a job there."

    vel?

    Someone suddenly piped up, "Hey what if it''s not about business at all? Maybe he''s in love. Maybe his, girlfriend works at CICI Group, and that''s why he''s so determined to go."

    vel

    Mr. Rogers snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up. "Actually, that makes sense. Didn''t you hear him just now? He said, ''Don''t you dare talk about her.'' That exins a lot.¡±

 Chapter 674

    Mr. Rogers squinted, absolutely certain. "No doubt about it¡ªour CEO''s in love."

    Mr. Fuller let out a low whistle. "He''s so smitten, he''s put his ownpany on the back burner just to work at someone else''s. Our boss is head-over-heels-it''s a full-blown case of lovesickness."

    "I mean, I''m genuinely curious now. What kind of woman could have our workaholic CEO so bewitched that he doesn''t even care about his career anymore? Back in the day, a woman like that would have been used of bringing down the kingdom-a real femme fatale."

    That evening, Hilda called, inviting her home for dinner-it was a Saunders family gathering tonight.

    Citrine had been living with the Saunders long enough to feel at home by now, all the old awkwardness and reserve gone.

    When she got back, Citrine tossed her bag aside like always and went straight to look for her cat.

    Before moving in, Citrine had asked if she could bring Happy with her, and everyone agreed. Hilda, who''d never really liked cats before, instantly transformed into a total cat enthusiast once Happy arrived.

    Crestwood spoiled Happy with treats, and Hilda, almost every evening after work, would scoop Happy up-no matter how much the cat protested and smother him with kisses, like some overbearing matriarch determined to shower her pet with love.

    Under Hilda''s relentless affection, Happy had gotten noticeably chubbier; now, Citrine could barely lift him with one arm.

    Sprawled barefoot on the sofa, Citrine cradled Happy andzily waved a cat toy for him to chase.

    Happy was full of energy and always cooperative with Citrine. All it took was a simple feather wand to get him leaping and twisting, absolutely delighted.

    But to anyone else watching, it didn''t look like she was entertaining the cat-if anything, it seemed like Happy was humoring her.

    The scene between girl and cat was peaceful and heartwarming.

    The Saunders family watched, feeling a glow of contentment they''d never known before; for a moment, they were utterly transfixed.

    Citrine didn''t notice anything

    unusual at first, not until she grew tired of the game and nced up-only to find several pairs of eyes at the dining table fixed squarely on her.  s?novel

    She froze, suddenly self-conscious.

    Grandparents, mother, brother, sister-those faces she was used to seeing. But there was someone else, a man she barely recognized.

    Nigel. Her uncle, whom she''d only met once before.

    Awkwardly smoothing her skirt, Citrine sat up straighter on the couch.

    "Uncle Nigel," she greeted politely.

    Nigel was still caught up in the lovely scene he''d just witnessed, lost in thought.

    He only snapped back to the present when he heard Citrine address him.

    "Citrine," Nigel said warmly.

    The moment had been so beautiful, full of light andfort. He hadn''t created anything so full of warmth in years hadn''t even felt the inspiration to try. But just now, unexpectedly, a spark had returned.

    He was sick of painting gloomy, somber pieces-those works drained every bit of his energy, leaving him exhausted for days.

    after. But now, ideas bubbled

    up in

    his mind, desperate to be put on

    canvas.

    Noticing Nigel still looking at her, Citrine felt he probably had something on his mind.

    She bit her lip and asked, "Uncle Nigel, is there something you wanted to say to me?"

    Nigel''s voice was a little unsteady as he stepped forward, earnest. "Citrine, I want to paint you."

    "Paint me?" Citrine repeated, startled.

    He nodded. "Yes. You inspired me just now I want to capture that moment on canvas."

 Chapter 675

    Nigel Saunders pulled out his sketchpad, which he always carried with him, his eyes brimming with anticipation as he looked at Citrine. "Citrine, would you mind?" Citrine blinked, caught a little off guard, then nodded. "O-of course not."

    Without another word, Nigel began to sketch from memory, capturing the scene he''d just witnessed. As he worked, he was utterly absorbed, lost in his own world, and for once, his usually impassive face softened-almost radiant with happiness.

    The rest of the Saunders family could only stare in disbelief at Nigel''s behavior toward Citrine. It was shocking enough to hear him speak so warmly to her, but to see him pick up his pencil and draw for her? That was beyond anything they''d imagined.

    After all, the Saunders family had pleaded with Nigel more than once to paint their portraits. He never budged-brushed them off, imed they stifled his inspiration, and insisted he couldn''t paint what didn''t move him.

    Over the years, Nigel had grown more and more distant from the family. Parents, nephews, even his beloved younger sister Hilda-he treated them all like strangers now. The bond he''d once shared with Hilda had faded, leaving them nearly estranged.

    Herschel Saunders muttered as if he''d just seen a ghost. "Has Nigel been possessed? Not only is he acting downright friendly, but he''s actually sketching something for Citrine!"

    Inez Saunders chuckled, "I always thought he was like this with everyone, but it turns out Citrine''s special to him."

    She added with a smile, "Of course, who wouldn''t love our Citrine?"

    Nigel was so engrossed in his work that he lost track of time. Citrine quietly moved behind him, peeking at the sketchpad. When she caught sight of her own familiar features rendered in his style, she was momentarily awestruck.

    It was such an ordinary scene, yet in his hands, it brimmed with life and emotion. Sensing her gaze, Nigel paused and nced over. "Well? What do you think?" Citrine rubbed her chin, pretending to ponder. "The colors are soft, and while it looks simple at first nce, there''s so much detail. The whole picture just feels... warm, like home."

    Nigel''s eyes lit up, bit by bit, as she spoke.

    He looked at Citrine with a depth usually reserved for kindred spirits. "Exactly."

    Once, she had interpreted his painting *The Game* better than anyone else. Now, she had seen right through to the heart of histest work-*Home*.

    For all his aloofness, Nigel couldn''t help but feel a surge of affection for his niece in that moment.

    They lingered over the drawing for a while, chatting quietly, until it was time for dinner. The Saunders family gathered around the table, and for the first time in years, Nigel actually smiled. Theughter and warmth felt like a return to happier days.

    As he ate, memories of better times flooded back to him.

    The next day, Nigel sent his sketch off to apetition. It was, he realized, the work he was most proud of in years.

    That night Nigel didn''t stay at the

    Saunders home. After he left, Citrine turned to her mother, curiosity getting the better of her. "Mom, why does Uncle Nigel seem so distant from everyone?"

    The question cast a shadow over the room. Inez, Herschel, and Hilda exchanged uneasy nces, and even Monica and Wade Saunders held their breath, silent.

    This was the family''s unspoken secret, a wound no one wanted to touch.

    Hilda stroked her daughter''s hair, her expression gentle and loving. She hesitated only a moment, then decided not to keep the truth from her.

    "Your Uncle Nigel and I are close in age. We did everything together growing up-best friends as well as siblings. But a few years ago, I got a message from some people who imed to know where you were. I was frantic, not thinking straight, so I went to meet them, just as they said."

 Chapter 676

    At this point, Hilda let out a long sigh. "I thought, at the very least, I''d find out where you were. I never imagined it was all a setup from the start-designed just to get rid of me."

    Hearing this, Citrine felt her heart ache with every word.

    She couldn''t bear to imagine how crushing it must have been for her mother, to have all her hopes sopletely destroyed.

    Hilda continued, her voice trembling, "Back then, your Uncle Nigel was worried about me, so he followed after. He even called the police. When those people realized, they flew into a rage. They doused the entire building in gasoline, trapping both me and your Uncle Nigel in the fire."

    Her voice grew even softer, heavy with memory. "The Saunders family arrived soon after. The fire was raging, and the fire department hadn''t made it yet. Your grandfather was frantic, but there was only time to save one of us. It tore him apart¡ªeither way, he''d be losing someone he loved. In the end, he made the only choice he could: he saved me, since I was closest. The moment I was out, your grandfather ran back inside for your Uncle Nigel. But by then, Nigel had already dragged himself out. They searched everywhere, even with the firefighters, but they couldn''t find him."

    "After that," Hilda said, her eyes squeezed shut, "your Uncle Nigel''s rtionship with the familypletely fell apart. He quit medicine, stopped caring what anyone thought, and threw himself into painting full time. He became more distant with me, too." The guilt in her voice was unmistakable.

    After all, she felt this all happened because of her.

    "This is all my fault. If Nigel resents me, I can''t me him." Herschel sighed deeply. Despite all his bluster about Nigel, he''d always carried a sense of guilt about what happened. He never regretted his choice he knew it was the only rational decision he could make in that moment¡ªbut the guilt stayed with him. Citrine pressed her lips together. The story brought back memories of her own, old wounds that time still hadn''t healed.

    Maybe her grandfather really had made the right choice that day, but that didn''t change the pain it had caused Uncle Nigel the kind of hurt that lingers, never fading, even after years.

    If it still haunted him after all these years, it meant he''d never truly moved on.

    Suddenly, Citrine asked, "Grandpa, did Uncle Nigel ever know you went back into the fire to look for him?"

    Herschel paused, then shook his head slowly.

    "He was so angry with me back then," he said, his voice weary. "I tried to exin, more than once, but he never wanted to listen. Eventually, I just let it go. Thought maybe was better if he didn''t know. If he found out the truth, knowing his temperament, he''d me himself to the point of not eating or sleeping."

    Citrine stared off, lost in thought.

    She wondered: if Sawyer Iverson hade back for her that day, would things have been different?

    It took her only a moment to find her answer.

    If Sawyer hade back for her, she would have been overjoyed¡ªmaybe she wouldn''t have resented him so deeply.

    But there were no what-ifs. He hadn''te back. He hadn''t even tried.

    After a while, Citrine looked up at Herschel, her voice steady and earnest. ¡°Grandpa, if Uncle Nigel knew you went back for him, he wouldn''t hate you. You shouldn''t have kept it from him. He deserves to know."

    Herschel waved her off. "Let it be. He''s held on to that anger for so many years: If he finds out the truth, I know exactly what''ll happen. He''ll just tum that me on himself lose sleep, skip meals. I''d rather he stay angry at me than destroy himself with guilt."

 Chapter 677

    Citrine understood what Herschel was thinking, but she didn''t agree.

    She shook her head. ¡°Grandpa, I think Uncle Nigel would rather know that you all love him than see you me yourselves. Don''t you agree?"

    It hit Herschel like a thunderp.

    Of course. Compared to guilt, making the boy believe his family never cared for him was far crueler.

    He''d been so wrong. All these years, he''d gotten it all wrong.

    The realization washed over him. He let out a long, heavy sigh. "Citrine, I must be getting senile. You''re right. It''s not the guilt that hurts most-it''s letting him think we never loved him. That''s what''s truly cruel."

    Citrine smiled warmly at him. "Grandpa, it''s not toote. Right now is the best time to set things right."

    Herschel''s mind cleared; a sense of hope lifted his spirits. But then he suddenly remembered something, and his face darkened. ¡°Even if I want to clear things up, Nigel might not even give me the chance. You probably don''t know this, but today is only the second time since everything happened that Uncle Nigel hase back for a family dinner."

    "The first time, he just came to pack his things and to let us know he''d quit his job at the hospital."

    "After that incident, he blocked every single one of us-deleted our numbers, erased all contact. He never came home. We have no way of reaching him."

    Citrine tried to reassure him. "Don''t worry, Grandpa. If you''re willing to wait, the chance to exin wille."

    "Wait?" Herschel echoed, surprised.

    Citrine''s voice was gentle and calm. "In a month Crestwood''s art gallery is hosting an exhibition. Artists from

    all over the world are submitting ne

    their work. This isn''t just a show-there''ll be judges, and one painting will win the International Art Pr¨ªze."

    Just the mention of painting made Herschel bristle.

    He let out a scornful huff. "I honestly don''t see what''s so great about painting. He really likes it that much? And what good is some so-called international art prize, anyway?"

    Back when Nigel quit the hospital, determined to paint, Herschel had been furious. Nigel had been a warm, cheerful young man, but after he started painting, he grew withdrawn, almost unrecognizable.

    Herschel had always hated Nigel''s obsession with art, and watching him waste away only made him angrier.

    Seeing Herschel''s frustration, Citrine couldn''t help butugh softly. She spoke earnestly, "Grandpa, painting is a way to express what''s inside Have you ever thought that Uncle Nigel didn''t leave medicine for art just out of passion?"

    "If not passion, then what?" Herschel asked, confused.

    "After that incident, you said he stopped talking to the family for a long time, then moved out. Is it possible he''s struggling with something like autism?"

    "Autism?" Herschel was taken aback.

    "People with autism often shut themselves off, avoidmunication, and don''t listen to others. They get lost in their own world. Maybe Nigel left his hospital job because his symptoms got so severe it was affecting his life."

    "I noticed Uncle Nigel''s behavior was

    a lot like someone with autism."

    From the moment she met him, Citrine had sensed something different about Nigel. The more she observed, the more convinced she became. Now, her words reflected her careful, quiet deductions.

    Herschel was stunned. He''d never realized his son might have developed autism because of what happened. If he''d known, he would have done everything in his power to make things right.

 Chapter 678

    He and his wife had only one daughter-Hilda-so over the years, they''d spoiled her a little. But that didn''t mean he waspletely biased, or that he didn''t care about his own son''s well-being. They were both his children. How could he not love them both?

    Citrine went on, "Maybe Uncle Nigel chose to devote himself to painting as a way to cope, to redeem himself. People with autism often need special ways to express and process their emotions."

    She paused, then gently encouraged him, "Grandpa, I think you should try to understand Uncle Nigel. Maybe you see painting as a frivolous pursuit, but you might not realize it''s like the air he breathes. He needs it to survive."

    Herschel had always scoffed at painting. Compared to the steady, respectable career of a doctor, painting seemed like a beggar''s trade to him. That''s why he''d been so adamant in opposing Nigel''s choice.

    But after hearing what Citrine had to say, something shifted inside him.

    For the first time, stubborn old Herschel started to question himself.

    Citrine continued, "Uncle Nigel will definitely be at the Crestwood gallery exhibit next month. If you want to make peace with him, that might be your chance. You could go see him there."

    Herschel tucked that thought away, resolving not to let it slip his mind. He reached out and gently patted his granddaughter''s head, his voice thick with affection. "You really are my little treasure, Citrine. If it weren''t for you, I''d probably still be stuck in my old ways."

    Citrine looked at him earnestly. "Grandpa, if you just exin yourself, I know Uncle Nigel will understand."

    "I hope so." After all these years, the rift between father and son felt too deep to mend, but he couldn''t help wishing for a second chance.

    One monthter.

    Herschel arrived at the Crestwood Art Gallery, just as Citrine had told him. The halls were lined with paintings, each more intriguing than thest.

    Once upon a time, Herschel would have written all this off as nonsense. But now, standing in the midst of these works, he found himself¡ªfor the first time¡ªcurious. He wanted to understand.

    The gallery was bustling with people, many of whom were discussing the art in thoughtful, passionate tonesz Herschel found himself drawn into their conversations, listening keenly, almost as if he were a student in ss.

    s?novel

    Strangely enough, the more he listened, the more his prejudice toward art faded.

    For one thing, the people around him

    were polite and articte,

    impossible to dislike. And their

    insights were impressive-he

    realized how much there was to learn from listening to their interpretations.

    After wandering for a while, Herschel began to explore the gallery at his own pace. Whenever a painting caught his eye, he''d pause and study it for a moment longer.

    Then, suddenly, he stopped in front of a familiar image. The girl and the cat in the painting-it was unmistakably Citrine.

    He froze on the spot.

    The painting was titled "Home."

    A small crowd had gathered around it.

    "It feels so warm andforting. I don''t know why, but just looking at this painting

    makes me feel cozy all over," someone murmured.

    "This is Mr Nigel''s best piece in the

    from his earlier work is

    gone there''s no sense of despair.

    It''s like he''s finally stepped out of the darkness."

    "It''s such a heartwarming painting."

    ...

    Herschel stood in front of "Home" for a long time, until he noticed the other paintings nearby.

    They were all by the same artist, but unlike "Home," the rest were chilling. Their bleak, somber tones sent a shiver down his spine-a sense of pain and torment radiated from them.

    Herschel didn''t know much about art. All he knew was that looking at those paintings made his chest ache with sorrow.

 Chapter 679

    Herschel felt his eyes sting as he gazed at the painting.

    A wave of sorrow crashed over him, leaving his chest tight, as if he could barely

    breathe.

    Someone nearby noticed and kindly steadied him. "Are you alright, sir?"

    "I''m fine." Herschel forced the suffocating feeling down, burying it deep inside.

    He managed a smile. "Thank you," he said to the stranger who''d helped him.

    The person nodded, then wandered off with theirpanion to look at other pieces.

    But Raymond''s father, Weston Carmichael, lingered where he was, lost in thought while staring at the painting titled *Home*. He couldn''t tear his eyes away.

    When the exhibition ended, it was time for the grand art prize to be announced. Weston''s eyes flickered as he thought of his son, but in the end, he decided to stay for the ceremony.

    He joined the crowd as everyone filed into the gallery''s main hall.

    This part of the evening was for the awards. The ce buzzed with anticipation. Herschel found a seat at random, settling in among the audience.

    As he nced around, his gazended on someone in the front row.

    Nigel sat there in a crisp white suit, every strand of hair meticulously styled.

    Herschel smirked at the sight of his back. "That rascal actually cleans up alright for once. Doesn''t look half bad."

    From the way Nigel was dressed, Herschel could tell tonight meant the world to him.

    Soon, the host began announcing the finalists, listing the paintings the visitors had voted for-and *Home* was among them.

    At the mention of the title, a surge of excitement shed in Herschel''s eyes. He nearly jumped to his feet.

    People nearby shot him odd looks, as if he were some country bumpkin who''d never seen a real gallery before.

    Sheepishly, Herschel sat back down.

    Then came the jury''s turn to vote. One by one, the judges cast their ballots-for Nigel.

    The grand prize was his, no question.

    As Nigel walked up to the stage, he felt a rare flicker of happiness.

    He kept his faceposed, but his eyes betrayed his excitement.

    After epting the award and delivering a short speech, Nigel turned to leave the stage. That''s when he caught sight of a familiar face in the back row.

    For a second, he thought he was seeing things-was that really Herschel sitting there?

    After all, his father had always hated his painting, had made it clear he

    disapproved of this world. What would he be doing at an art show?

    Nigel blinked hard, hoping to clear the illusion. But the face in the back was unmistakably real.

    It was really him.

    What was he doing here?

    Vl

    Nigel forced himself to keep hisposure as he left the stage. Instead of returning to his seat he circled around and slipped into the row beside Herschel.

    Noticing someone sit down next to him, Herschel''s expression shifted almost imperceptibly.

    Nigel kept his tone cool and polite, a hint of distance in his voice. "Dad, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

    All these years, Herschel had always been the one scolding his son. But tonight, he''de to apologize. For a moment, he actually felt nervous.

    He braced himself and finally spoke. "I... I came to see you."

    "To see me?" Nigel froze, genuinely surprised.

    Their rtionship with the Saunders family had grown colder over the years. When Nigel left the hospital Herschel was furious, and every meeting since had ended in hafsh words. Lately, they''d simply avoided

    each other altogether.

    And with Herschel''s open disdain for his art, the very idea that he would show up

    here was almost unthinkable. Nigel could hardly believe it.

 Chapter 680

    Herschel nced at Nigel, whose expression was a tangled mess of emotions. He knew exactly what was running through his son''s mind, so he took the initiative. "Let''s find somewhere private to talk. There are things I''ve wanted to tell you face- to-face for a long time."

    After all these years, it was time to clear up the misunderstandings between them. Nigel was clearly surprised by Herschel''s sudden olive branch, but he didn''t refuse.

    They left the gallery and found a quiet, tucked-away bistro.

    Nigel had no appetite for food and didn''t bother with pleasantries. "All right, let''s hear it. What do you want to say to me?" His voice was tinged with impatience.

    A fleeting look of bitterness crossed Herschel''s face, but he quickly masked it.

    Remembering what Citrine had told him, Herschel steeled himself and spoke. "Back then, before the firefighters arrived, I only had time to save one person-or else both of you would have died."

    At the mention of that night, Nigel''s face lost a shade of color.

    If Herschel hadn''t brought it up now, Nigel would have spent the rest of his life refusing to speak of that painful memory.

    Herschel went on, "Nigel, I made the decision to save Hilda first because I had to think rationally. She was closer to the door. Getting her out was the only chance for at least one of you to survive."

    The mask of calm on Nigel''s face finally cracked. He let out a cold, bitterugh, no longer hiding the resentment that had simmered for years. "Of course. You''ve always favored my sister. So it made perfect sense to leave me behind."

    Herschel had always known that Nigel resented him, but only today did he realize just how deep that wound went.

    He sighed and managed a pained smile, shaking his head. ¡°I never gave up on you. After I got Hilda out, I went straight back in. I searched every corner of that burning house for you. When the firefighters arrived, they helped too, but you were nowhere to be found."

    "You went back for me?" Nigel''s voice trembled as a raw, desperate hope flickered in his eyes. The walls he''d built for years began to shake. "Then why didn''t you say anything?"

    Herschel looked away, his voice

    heavy. "By the time I went back, you

    were already gone. Later, I tried to exin, but your anger was so strong you couldn''t even look at

    me.

    The longer it went on, the less sense

    it made to dredge up the past."

    Nigel''sposure shattered. He all but shouted, "How could it not make sense? If

    I''d known the truth, I wouldn''t have spent my life hating you!"

    He lowered his voice, hoarse with emotion. "Why didn''t you just tell me sooner?"

    Seeing his son fall apart, Herschel''s

    met

    own heart broke a little. He sighed. "With so much time gone by, I worried that telling you would only make you feel guilty. If hating me brought you somefort, b thought maybe it was better that way."

    He''d never nned to say these things, but Citrine''s words echoed in his mind.

    She was right-guilt could be healed, but the belief that your own father didn''t love you was far crueller.

    A new thought suddenly struck Nigel, and he asked, bewildered, "If you meant to keep this hidden forever, why tell me all this now?"

    Thinking of his beloved granddaughter, Herschel''s expression softened. He said gently, ¡°Citrine made me see it differently. She said that guilt is nothingpared to believing you''re unloved. I realized she was right."

    Nigel fell silent, stunned.

    He''d always known Citrine was perceptive, but it took a neen-year-old to both understand his paintings and see through the armor around his heart. For the first time in years, he felt a flicker of warmth.

    And somehow, the tide of guilt that threatened to drown him began to ebb away.

 Chapter 681

    Their eyes met across the table. Herschel was the first to break the silence. "Nigel, I''m sorry. I''ve let you down."

    He took responsibility, his voice steady but soft. "I shouldn''t have kept things from you, pretending it was for your own good. I should''ve realized sooner that, more than anything, what matters most to you is your family''s love."

    He looked his son in the eye. "I was wrong. I owe you an apology."

    "Maybe I''m saying this toote, but I mean it."

    Herschel had spent his entire life with his head held high, never one to lower himself or admit fault-except for this moment, for his son.

    Because Nigel knew how proud his father was, he understood just how difficult this apology must be.

    Thinking of all the years he''d misunderstood his father, Nigel felt a pang of guilt. "Dad, I''m sorry too. I''ve misjudged you for so long. I should be the one apologizing."

    Herschel couldn''t bear to see his son take the me. After a pause, he said quietly, "It''s not your fault. This is on me."

    Nigel called a waiter over. "We''ll have one of each of your house specialties, please."

    The meal stretched on for quite some time, but by the end of it, thest traces of resentment had melted away between father and son.

    The next day, Citrine did something she almost never did she showed up at CICI Group in person.

    As soon as she closed her office door, she booted up her favorite game.

    In the early days, Citrine had tried to hide her gaming from the staff, worried they''d ck off if they saw the boss ying around. But after a while, everyone knew the drill; they stayed focused, and she no longer bothered to hide it. Now, she yed openly, sometimes even muttering curses when her teammates let her down.

    The senior managers were used to these outbursts by now.

    She was in the middle of a game when Carlotta Yarbrough suddenly entered, bringing someone with her.

    Sebastian Vesper walked in just in time to see Citrine''s fingers flying over the keyboard, her attention fixed on the screen.

    Carlotta stepped forward. "Chairwoman, Mr. Vesper has been with us for several days now. I thought it was time to introduce you."

    Citrine didn''t respond, her eyes still glued to the monitor, hands moving with practiced ease, utterly absorbed.

    Knowing how focused their chairwoman could get, Carlotta didn''t push. She simply waited with Sebastian by the door.

    Citrine was a different person in

    these moments-her eyes bright, her movements quick and sure, all the youthful energy she usually kept hidde shining through. Sebastian found himself watching her @little longer than he meant to.

    When the round finally ended, Citrine remembered her visitors. She nced at Sebastian, then at Carlotta. "Sorry, I lost track of time."

    Carlotta spoke up, "Chairwoman, the new CEO has been here several days. You should assign him some work."

    Citrine nodded. ¡°Alright, I''ll take care of it. You can go now."

    Once they were alone, Citrine turned to Sebastian.

    He couldn''t help but smile at her youthful face, teasing, "So, Chairwoman, what would you like me to do next?"

    Citrine pretended to think about it for a while before answering, "You''re the

    CEO. However you want to run things, go ahead. As long as you make thepany better, I won''t

    get in your way."

    Honestly, if she micromanaged him every day, barking orders like a strict boss, what would be the point of bringing him into CICI Group in the first ce?

    Pn

    She wanted him to have the freedom to make real changes, to see how he led and what methods he used. This was her chance to learn from him-and maybe, just maybe, be surprised by what he could do.  s?novel

 Chapter 682

    Seeing how much authority Citrine had just handed him, Sebastian couldn''t help but chuckle. "You trust me this much? Aren''t you worried I''ll learn CICI Group''s secrets and stab you in the back?"

    Citrine''s heart skipped a beat at his words. She red at him, indignant. "You wouldn''t dare."

    At that moment, she looked just like a bristling kitten, suddenly wary, seriously considering the possibility for the first time. Was bringing Sebastian into CICI Group really the right decision? She found herself eyeing him with a new hint of suspicion.

    Sebastian found her expression adorable, so he kept teasing. "If I really did betray you, what would you do?"

    What would she do? Killing him was out of the question-absolutely not. Maybe hire someone to rough him up? But Sebastian looked so fragile that he''d probably get seriously hurt. That wouldn''t do either.

    Citrine pondered the problem with grave seriousness, but no solution came to mind.

    Sebastian couldn''t helpughing at the way she was racking her brain so hard.

    He reached out and ruffled her hair, his tone tender. "Want me to help youe up with something?"

    Citrine looked at him intently, waiting. He said, "If I ever betray Citrine, let me never wake up again. That''s how I''ll pay for it."

    His words unsettled her for reasons she couldn''t name. She frowned. "Alright, that''s enough. Who talks about themselves like that? Don''t curse yourself."

    Sebastian gave a lowugh. "You really do trust me that much?"

    Citrine thought to herself: I do trust him. But notpletely.

    Sebastian smiled faintly and, unable to resist, ced his palm on her head again. "Since you trust me like this, I''ll make sure I never let you down. No matter what."

    Citrine pursed her lips, shoving his hand off her head. "You''re forgetting your ce. We''re at work, and I''m your boss now."

    Her tone was all business, but

    Sebastian just burst outughing, clutching his stomach. It took him a while to recover. "Alright, you''re the boss. You''re in charge, I''m not. Satisfied?"

    Citrine folded her arms, gave a little huff, and didn''t bother to reply.

    After Sebastian left, Citrine fired up another round of her favorite online game.

    Thatst match hadn''t satisfied her at all-she needed to make up for it.

    This time, she yed all out-aggressive and bold-but thankfully her teammates were just as coordinated, and they pulled off a beautiful win.

    She was about to queue up for another game when a suddenmotion outside her office caught her attention.

    At first, Citrine ignored it, but the noise only grew louder and harder to tune out. Finally, she realized something was off.

    She stood and went to the door, unlocking it from the inside.

    The hallway outside was packed with people, voices ovepping in a cacophony reminiscent of a weekend farmer''s market with

    everyone moring for thest

    carton of eggs.

    Citrine watched them impassively for a moment before asking, ¡°What''s going on

    out here? Why all the noise?"

    At the sound of her voice, the crowd instantly fell silent and straightened up.

    The office was dead quiet in the blink of an eye.

    Citrine might only be neen and friendly enough, but she was sharp, demanding, and had a knack for business that was downright intimidating. No one at CICI Group dared cross her.

    Finally, someone spoke up. "Ms. Whitmore, it''s about the new CEO you hired. He rejected every proposal our team submitted-and he called our work garbage."

    The resentment in the speaker''s voice was palpable. "We don''t ept that."

 Chapter 683

    The sudden appointment of a new CEO threw CICI Group into chaos. Across departments, employees bristled at Sebastian''s orders, refusing to carry them out.

    "Why should we change our entire marketing strategy just because he says so?" one department head protested in the boardroom.

    "That n took the whole team days of meetings andte nights to finalize. How can he just decide to scrap it on a whim?"

    "I''m not happy about this, Chairwoman," another chimed in, his voice tight with frustration.

    "What''s he got to show for himself anyway? For all we know, he''s just another armchair strategist with no real experience."

    Grumbles andints filled the room, every wordced with open dissatisfaction toward Sebastian.

    Citrine sat quietly, lips pressed together, waiting for the uproar to die down. Only then did she speak, her voice calm and deliberate. She tapped her fingers on the polished table, her head cocked thoughtfully toward the main dissenters.

    "So, what you''re saying is you don''t think Sebastian is up to the job?" she asked, her tone almost yful.

    A nervousugh rippled from one of the managers. "Chairwoman, isn''t it obvious?"

    Citrine''s expression changed in a sh, a slow smile curving her lips. "Then perhaps it''s time I shared Sebastian''s r¨¦sum¨¦ with you all," she said, her voice steady.

    "He graduated from Crestwood University-double master''s degrees in Electronic Engineering and Business Administration. While still a student, he developed the U-chip, and after graduation, he founded SC Group from scratch. I''m sure you''re all aware of SC Group''s current standing in Crestwood."

    Her words hung in the air. The entire room froze.

    "Wait, Chairwoman, are you saying he''s the CEO of SC Group?" someone blurted out, eyes wide.

    "SC Group''s expansion in Crestwood has been unstoppabletely-it''s like watching the early days of CICI Group all over again. Is Sebastian really their CEO?"

    The boardroom buzzed with shock and disbelief.

    Citrine nodded. "Yes, he''s the CEO of SC Group."

    Her tone sharpened as she continued. "From today onward, I expect everyone to follow Mr. Vesper''s rules to the letter. All work assignments and directives wille from Mr. Vesper. If anyone disregards his instructions again, I won''t hesitate to take disciplinary action."

    There was a cold edge to her voice by the end-a warning with no ambiguity.

    The staff didn''t know much about Sebastian personally, but everyone understood one thing: Citrine never made empty threats. After that, no one dared utter another word of protest.

    The matter resolved, Sebastian''s authority went unchallenged. No one dared to defy his orders again.

    Within days, word of the confrontation reached Sebastian himself.

    He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows in his office, a slight smile ying at his

    lips, the amusement unmistakable in his eyes.

    Meanwhile, outside his office, thepany was buzzing with gossip. By lunchtime, the rumors were in full swing.

    "Seriously, how did our Chairwoman manage to convince the CEO of SC Group toe and run ourpany?"

    "I know! Only she could pull off something like that. I wouldn''t even dare dream of

    it."

    "And think about it¡ªhe''s just left his ownpany to work here. Are CEOs

    "No kidding. I heard SC Group is about to go public. Why would he leave at such

    a crucial time to join us as CEO?"

    As always the lunchroom was alive

    with spection and banter, employees clustered around tables with their sandwiches and coffees, dissecting thetestpany intrique.

    None of them realized that Sebastian was sitting just a few seats away, every

    word of their conversation reaching his ears.

    He listened to their chatter with a wry amusement, far from annoyed-in fact, he seemed to enjoy the whole thing.

 Chapter 684

    They''d all assumed the conversation would end there, but the group had no intention of dropping the subject.

    One of the girls murmured, "CICI Group is powerful, sure, but SC Group''s doing just fine too. And Mr. Vesper is the boss over there he doesn''t need to work for CICI at all. If you ask me, there''s got to be something more going on here."

    Sebastian paused mid-bite, his fork hovering over his te as he nced sideways at the speaker.

    He spotted a woman covering her mouth, ncing furtively around before lowering her voice.

    Everyone around her was instantly drawn in, turning their full attention her way. "What do you mean, something more?"

    "Yeah,e on, don''t leave us hanging."

    "Spill it! I have to know."

    She clicked her tongue. "Seriously? You haven''t figured it out yet?"

    "We really haven''t just tell us, please!" someone chimed in.

    "Come on, don''t tease us!"

    Seeing all eyes fixed on her, faces shining with anticipation, she relented. "Okay, think about it. What''s the most important thing to a man?"

    Someone nearby scratched his head. "Most important thing?"

    He ventured, "His career, maybe?"

    "Exactly." She snapped her fingers.

    "Sure, men caring about their careers is normal," someone else pointed out. "But what does that prove?"

    She clicked her tongue again. "If a man is willing to drop everything at the peak of his career, what reason could there be, besides love?"

    Her words drew a collective gasp; hands flew over mouths as if she''d just revealed some scandalous secret. "Wait... Are you saying Mr. Vesper is in love with our CEO?"

    Atst, they were catching on. The woman grinned. "Of course. Why else would Mr. Vesper leave his ownpany right when it''s about to go public just to join us? No man would do that for no reason-unless he''s lost his mind." She tapped her temple for emphasis.

    As she finished, a knowing smile crept across her face. "And let me tell you, I don''t think it''s just Mr. Vesper who''s got feelings. I bet our CEO likes him back, too."

    She looked around meaningfully.

    "Think about it. Remember when our CEO totally lost her cool because we didn''t listen to Mr. Vesper? She''s always so gentle, so kind-she never snaps like that. No way she''d get that upset for no reason. If you ask me, she''s definitely got feelings for him."

    The others nodded, convinced.

    "You''re right. She really was acting out of character that day, and she hardly ever loses her temper."

    "We keep forgetting, our CEO''s only neen-of course she''s going to have a crush at her age."

    "She''s beautiful, and Mr. Vesper is seriously handsome. Honestly, they look perfect together."

    "For all we know, they''re already dating secretly. This might even be her first love. As employees, we should be supportive-she works so hard for thepany, she deserves someone special." ''

    "I say we back her up!"

    Sebastian''s food sat untouched on his tray; he was too absorbed in their gossip to even notice.

    It wasn''t until someone called out, "Mr. Vesper, you''re eating here too?" that he was jolted from his thoughts.

 Chapter 685

    "Mr. Vesper?"

    At the sound of his name, the group of people chatting nearby all turned toward the adjacent table, eyes wide in shock.

    Sebastian himself hadn''t expected to be addressed. The hint of a smile still lingered on his lips, not yet faded.

    Seeing that smile, everyone at the table became certain he''d overheard every word of their conversation.

    And yet, the person who''d called out to him waspletely oblivious, grinning as he said, "Mr. Vesper, you made the right choiceing to the cafeteria today. Honestly, the food here is better than most restaurants in town."

    Sebastian returned the smile with a polite nod.

    Sensing the suddenly awkward atmosphere, the man made a quick exit.

    Meanwhile, the women who had been gossiping could feel their hearts pounding in their chests.

    They hurriedly packed up their lunch trays and scrambled to their feet.

    The girl in front forced a smile that looked more like she was about to cry. "Pr- President Vesper, what a coincidence. I didn''t expect to see you here."

    Sebastian looked at them and just gave a nomittal "Mm."

    What did that even mean?

    The group grew even more anxious.

    The lead woman swallowed nervously and managed a shaky smile. ¡°Mr. Vesper, you don''t have to worry. We won''t say a word about you and the CEO."

    Sebastian kept his head down, silent. The woman shot meaningful nces at her friends, then bowed slightly to Sebastian. "We''ll just get out of your way, then." They scurried out so quickly they nearly tripped over their own feet.

    Once they were gone, Sebastian finally looked up.

    There wasn''t the slightest trace of annoyance in his eyes¡ªjust a deep, genuine amusement. He was clearly in an excellent mood.

    Oh well.

    "If there''s going to be a misunderstanding, so be it. It''s not such a bad thing."

    He had no intention of exining himself.

    Within days, the rumors had spread through every corner of CICI Group. Now, everywhere Sebastian went, people eyed him with a strange kind of knowing smile, as if they were sizing up produce at the market.

    During a meeting, Sebastian was speaking at the front of the room when he noticed the distracted gazes of his colleagues. He paused, his voice trailing off. "Ms. Brooks, what are you looking at?"

    Ms. Brooks was still daydreaming, her thoughts a thousand miles away. Startled, she grinned. "Oh, nothing much. It''s just that now that our CEO is dating, as employees, we have to check out her boyfriend properly, don''t we?"

    The room collectively winced, bracing for the fallout.

    Ms. Brooks immediately broke into a cold sweat, realizing she''d just blurted out her private thoughts. She shrank back in her chair.

    Sebastian, unfazed, sat down and smoothed the sleeve of his suit. "And? What''s your verdict?"

    Ms. Brooks swallowed hard. "Well, you''re handsome, and our CEO is beautiful. Honestly, you''re perfect for each other."

    A hush fell over the conference room.

    Only after speaking did Ms. Brooks realize what she''d just said. She pressed her

    lips together and fanned her mouth, muttering, "Honestly, why can''t I just keep my mouth shut?"

    Once again, silence descended.

    Ms. Brooks sat trembling, convinced her career was over, until Sebastian finally said, ¡°Let''s continue the meeting."

    She let out a huge sigh of relief.

    A few dayster, Citrine stopped by the office. Carlotta, after some hesitation, decided to let her in on thetest office gossip.

    When Citrine heard the story, she couldn''t help butugh.

    She looked at Carlotta, her expression dead serious. "So you''re telling me Sebastian''s been going around telling everyone we''re dating?"

    Carlotta started to shake her head but reconsidered and nodded instead.

    Citrine was silent for a moment, then couldn''t hold back her amusement. She headed straight for Sebastian''s office on her own.

 Chapter 686

    At that moment, everyone in the office watched as the CEO strode straight into Mr. Vesper''s office-their stares practically glued to the scene.

    "Told you, the CEO and Mr. Vesper definitely have something going on."

    "Did you see the CEO''s face just now? She looked pissed. They must''ve had a fight."

    "She''s probably in there demanding an exnation. Looks like Mr. Vesper really got under her skin this time."

    "Come on, couples argue all the time. It''s normal."

    "I just wish we knew what they''re fighting about!"

    With the scent of gossip thick in the air, thepany employees settled in, cracking open bags of chips and sunflower seeds, munching away as they spected.

    Citrine stormed into Sebastian''s office, her face thunderous-so angry she didn''t even bother knocking.

    Sebastian set his paperwork aside the moment he saw her, his eyes softening. "What brings you here today? No sses at the university?"

    Citrine didn''t answer. She just stared at him, searching his expression for any hint that he might be the type to spread wild rumors behind her back. No matter how hard she looked, she couldn''t see it.

    Noticing the flush on her cheeks, Sebastian assumed she was overheated. He poured her a ss of water, then poured one for himself.

    After a tense silence, Citrine finally calmed down a little. She looked at him, testing the waters. "So... I heard you''ve been telling people I''m your girlfriend?"

    Sebastian choked on his water, coughing so hard it echoed through the room. Then, suddenly, he let out a lowugh.

    He nced at her, amused. "Who told you I said that?"

    "No one. I just overheard the staff talking." Citrine hesitated, but ultimately decided not to throw Carlotta under the bus.

    After speaking, she reached for the other ss of water on the coffee table, taking a sip to hide her difort.

    Sebastian could tell she wasn''t telling the whole truth, but he just smiled and let it

    go.

    Citrine felt a pang of guilt.

    But then Sebastian grinned. "What''s wrong? Is it really that terrible to be associated with me?"

    Her heart skipped a beat. She scrambled for an excuse. "No, that''s not it... I just worry it might affect your work."

    He leaned back, eyes narrowing.

    "Are you worried my personal feelings will get in the way of business, or are you afraid this will mess with our... mutually beneficial arrangement?" His tone turned serious; even though he''d always suspected she knew he liked her, this was the first time he dared to say it out loud.

    This girl was a born negotiator¡ªalways thinking, always logical, even now. He had to admit, he admired her for it.

    Citrine paled, caught off guard by how urately he''d read her.

    He wasn''t wrong. She knew he liked her, and she''d be the first to admit she''d brought him on as president of CICI Group because of that. Hearing what Carlotta had said, her first reaction wasn''t embarrassment. It was fear-that Sebastian would start expecting more from her which couldplicate their business rtionship.

    Suddenly, Citrine smiled. If he was going to be so blunt, she had nothing to hide either. "And what about you? Back in Havencrest, you kept finding ways to run into me¡ªat the bakery, at the karaoke bar. Wasn''t that a little too convenient?"

    A flicker of pain crossed Sebastian''s face.

    He fell silent for a moment, then finally offered an apology. ¡°I''m sorry."

    Citrine opened her mouth but couldn''t find the words.

    He went on, voice low. "It''s true. I approached you on purpose. My mom was sick, and someone told me you had connections at Viridis Medical Institute. I thought if I got close to you, maybe I could help her. But... by the time I actually tried, it was already toote."

    Heid out everything, not hiding a single truth.

 Chapter 687

    Hearing Sebastian''s words, Citrine felt a jolt inside her, her heart skipping almost imperceptibly.

    "Your mother... is she...?" she asked hesitantly.

    Sebastian pressed his lips together, forcing a bitter smile. "She''s gone."

    "I''m sorry," Citrine murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor. It took her a long moment to find her voice.

    A wave of regret washed over her. She realized she shouldn''t have been so impulsive¡ªhis mother was clearly a wound that hadn''t healed.

    She was aware of her own maniption, just as she knew that, in the beginning, Sebastian had approached her with his own agenda. In truth, she had no right to question him.

    Sebastian hadn''t expected her apology. He quicklyposed himself, managing a smile. ¡°You don''t have to apologize. I was the one who approached you with an ulterior motive."

    That guilt had weighed on him ever since. So even after he realized she was using his feelings, he''d epted it, almost willingly.

    Citrine had thought her heart was hardened enough, but hearing the real reason Sebastian first sought her out, she felt herself relent.

    If she''d never learned the truth, perhaps she could have continued exploiting his affection without remorse-after all, he hadn''t been innocent either.

    But he''d only done what he did to save his mother. Now she couldn''t find it in herself to keep taking advantage of him.

    After a long silence, Citrine finally spoke, her voice quieter than before. "I''m sorry.

    I shouldn''t have used your feelings like that."

    This apology came from the deepest part of her heart.

    Sebastian''s heart lurched-not with relief, but with a strange unease that settled in his chest.

    He opened his mouth, trying to reply, but before he could say anything, Citrine spoke again. "You should go to HR and finalize the paperwork."

    Sebastian''s expression darkened instantly.

    "Wait... what do you mean? Are you firing me?"

    He had never imagined he''d see the day when he''d actually be dismissed.

    Citrine watched him for a long moment, her tone sincere. "I recruited you to CICI Group for my own reasons. When I invited you, took advantage of your feelings, and because you had your own motives, I never felt guilty about any of it. But now that I know you did it all for your mother, I can''t, in good conscience, keep using you."

    She pressed her lips together, her voice calm as her eyes met his. "You should go. This is your time to

    shine-SC Group is about to go

    public. That''s where you belong right

    now."

    Sebastian was momentarily at a loss. A wave of fear crashed over him, leaving

    him almost breathless.

    He managed a strained smile. "I refuse."

    "Why?" Citrine looked up at him, surprised.

    With SC Group on the verge of its IPO, what reason could he possibly have to

    turn this down? Was he really so blinded by his feelings?

    Even Citrine found herself unable to make sense of Sebastian''s thinking.

    Sebastian''s gaze was steady, his voice low after a long pause. "Joining CICI Group was my choice. It had nothing to do with you. If you want to use me, go ahead. Like before."

    Citrine blinked, surprise flickering in her eyes.

    She was about to speak when Sebastian continued, "Besides, don''t you still want to deal with Steris Group?"

    His eyes lit up with determination. "I''ve already gotten a good handle on their operations. I can help you."

    Citrine pressed her lips together, considering. "Steris Group''s power isn''t something that can be toppled overnight. There''s no rush."

    Sebastian''sposure cracked, his emotions spilling over. "How can you say there''s no rush?"

    God knows how it tore him apart when he heard that the CEO of Steris Group had thrown Citrine into a tank of piranhas. All he wanted in that moment was to tear that man limb from limb.

 Chapter 688

    Citrine stared at him, stunned by the force of his reaction-she truly hadn''t expected it.

    Their eyes met, and for a moment, both fell silent.

    Sebastian swallowed, breaking the tension first. "Either way, I''m not leaving. We agreed before I joined CICI-you can''t fire me."

    With that, he all but bolted from the room, not giving Citrine a chance to reply.

    She watched his retreating figure, a mixture of exasperation and helplessness welling up inside her.

    Whenever she wasn''t teaching, she''d usually drop by the office, but these past few days, Sebastian had seemed to be avoiding her entirely, almost as if he were deliberately keeping his distance since the incident.

    Friday night arrived.

    A handful of Crestwood''s most prominent business leaders had invited Citrine and Sebastian to dinner.

    Normally, Citrine had little patience for these tedious social gatherings, but when she saw the guest list, she hesitated-then changed her mind.

    It was, in a sense, a private affair, so they''d chosen the city''s most exclusive club for the meeting.

    When Citrine and Sebastian stepped into the private lounge, the lively conversation died in an instant.

    "President Carmichael, you''ve arrived?" Neville Barrett stood up at once, a polite smile on his face as he offered the seat at the center of the table.

    "Please, have a seat," he said with a tone that bordered on reverence.

    Citrine barely spared him a nce-she didn''t even bother to meet his eyes. In front of everyone, she brushed past and took the seat at the very center, as if it were hers by right.

    Quentin Aldridge, seeing his father so publicly slighted, shot to his feet, anger shing across his face.

    He gritted his teeth. "You" He''d worried about her constantly when her life had hung in the bnce, and now it all seemed like a waste of concern.

    After all this time, Citrine Carmichael was still as insufferable as ever.

    Watching his son glower at Citrine, Neville''s heart skipped a beat. He shot Quentin a furious re, his eyes full of warning.

    "Quentin, sit down."

    Quentin seethed, but with his father''s voice so stern, he could only grit his teeth andply.

    He let out a sharp huff and began to sit.

    But just then, something unexpected happened.

    As Quentin bent to take his seat, Citrine looked straight at him, her tone mocking

    and her words sharp, leaving no room for pretense.

    "Would you mind moving to the end of the table?"

    "What?" Quentin gaped at her.

    Citrine ignored him, turning instead to Neville with a cold, almost mocking smile. "President Barrett, your son could use some lessons in manners. Frankly, I worry about the Aldridge family''s future."

    The hostility in her words was unmistakable¡ªanyone could hear it.

    Neville''s expression turned sour, but considering Citrine''s many influential roles and CICI Group''s growing

    Ser, he clenched his jaw and

    stayed silent.

    She effectively held Crestwood''s medicalwork in her hands; between CICI Group and Blood Rain, she was not someone to cross.

    So Neville could only look to his son, his voice low and steely. "Quentin, move to the end of the table."

    Quentin let out a bitterugh. ¡°Dad, why should I? Sure, she''s impressive, but the Aldridge family isn''t exactly second-rate, are we?"

    He plopped down in defiance, ignoring everyone else.

    Neville looked about ready to explode, his face turning almost purple with anger.

    His tone was harsh, leaving no room for debate. "Quentin, move. Or I''ll have no problem dealing with you at home."

    Neville''s resolve was clear. Quentin, furious as he was, didn''t dare make things worse for his father. Sulking, he stood up from his spot beside Citrine and grudgingly moved to the far end of the table. ''

 Chapter 689

    "Happy now?" Quentin barked at Citrine, his voice sharp with resentment as he grudgingly took the seat furthest from her.

    Citrine''s expression never wavered.

    She sat quietly, waiting until Quentin hadpletely vacated the spot. Once he was gone, she called the server over in her usual calm tone. "Would you mind cleaning this seat for me?"

    The young woman froze, momentarily speechless¡ªshe''d never had a request like that before.

    She nced at Quentin. Even knowing he came from old money, she couldn''t help but feel a secondhand embarrassment for him in this moment.

    She''d always assumed Crestwood''s rich kids were all swagger and bluster, never expected to see one so thoroughly put in his ce.

    What a mess this crowd is, she thought. Good thing I''m just a server.

    The server hesitated, standing awkwardly by the table. Citrine looked up, meeting her gaze, then turned to Sebastian and held out her hand.

    Sebastian blinked, unsure for a split second, then caught on. He slipped several crisp hundred-dor bills from his pocket and ced them in Citrine''s hand.

    He was reaching for more when Citrine shot him a look and mouthed, "That''s enough. Stop."

    Sebastian nearlyughed, quickly withdrawing his hand.

    Citrine weighed the bills in her palm, wincing inwardly at the expense. Still, she ced the stack on the coffee table and slid it toward the server, giving her a small, amused smile. "Go ahead, please."

    The server stared, wide-eyed, as if she''d never seen anything more beautiful than that pile of cash. Not only was Citrine stunning, her voice was like music to the girl''s ears.

    Afraid the money might somehow vanish, the server blurted, "Of course I''ll clean it right away!"

    There was no hint of humiliation in her eyes now, only the hunger for money. Citrine''s gaze drifted to the server''s shoes-worn through at the toes, patched up more than once. She allowed herself the faintest, knowing smile.

    Quentin, watching the whole scene unfold, was livid. He red at Citrine, incredulous. "Citrine Carmichael, what the hell is this? Are you saying I''m dirty?"

    She met his eyes, the corners of her lips curling, saying nothing but conveying everything.

    Quentin felt the humiliation burn in his chest. He couldn''t breathe, couldn''t swallow the anger and shame.

    The server set to work with

    single-minded focus, scrubbing every inch of the seat, not sparing even cracks between the the

    cushions. After all, she''d just been paid handsomely for her trouble.

    When she finished, she straightened up with a smile. "All done."

    Citrine nodded, returning the smile.

    Then, her expression softening, she turned to Sebastian and gestured for him to sit. "Go ahead."

    Sebastian smiled, taking the seat beside Citrine as everyone in the room watched.

    Quentin looked like he might explode.

    Meanwhile, Theo Glenwood, who''d been silent at Quentin''s side, hadn''t taken his eyes off Citrine from the moment she''d entered. His gaze was hungry, almost desperate.

    It was the first time he''d seen her since the ident.

    Seeing her again made his heart race, but the sight of Sebastian sitting next to her wiped the smile from his face.

    What was Sebastian''s deal? One day he was CEO of the Steris Corporation, the next he was running CICI Group. Was he ying some kind of game?

    And Citrine clearly knew all this-so why did she still keep him so close? Did she have feelings for him?

    The thought made Theo''s jaw clench, his re at Sebastian sharp enough to cut.

    Sebastian now at Citrine''s side, suddenly felt the weight of Theo''s icy stafe. He looked up and locked eyes with Theo, reading the

    love

    intent simmering there.

 Chapter 690

    Sebastian''s lips curled ever so slightly, a glint of open challenge flickering in his eyes.

    Neither of them spoke, but tension simmered between their gazes like an unspoken duel.

    Suddenly, Neville broke the silence. "Ms. Carmichael, we invited you here today to discuss a potential partnership. Your CICI Group is on fire these days-every majorpany in Crestwood is falling over themselves to join your Blood Rain initiative."

    He offered a fawning smile. "Do you think there might be a ce at the table for The Aldridge Group?"

    Worried Citrine would refuse, Neville hurriedly added, "Ms. Carmichael, I promise, if The Aldridge Group is epted into Blood Rain, we''ll follow your lead in everything."

    Quentin, listening to his father grovel, curled his lip in disgust and let out a cold snort.

    Citrine hadn''t said a word. Sebastian, sensing her mood, took the cue.

    "If I remember correctly, the Aldridge family and the Glenwood family used to be close, didn''t they? President Barrett, have you forgotten what the Glenwoods did?"

    He let his voice rise, sharp and deliberate. ¡°Or are you pretending not to know, President Barrett? Trying to get under our CEO''s skin?"

    "N-no, of course not." Neville rushed to defend himself.

    "The Glenwoods'' actions back then-we knew nothing about it, Ms. Carmichael. That was illegal-we''d never have been involved in something like that." He was desperate to distance himself from any connection.

    Theo''s face turned pale at the mention.

    Suddenly, Citrineughed, cold and clear. "Illegal? I''m surprised, President Barrett are you actually afraid of breaking thew?"

    Her eyes locked onto Neville''s, unwavering.

    A chill crept up Neville''s spine. For a fleeting moment, he was certain this neen-year-old girl could see right through him-see every dirty secret he''d tried to bury.

    Did she know something?

    Racked with anxiety, Neville''s mind raced. Then, remembering the trouble that had recently befallen Citrine, hetched onto an idea.

    He beckoned to Theo. "Theo,e here."

    Theo pressed his lips together, hesitating. But after all the help the Aldridge family had given himtely, he finally stood and came forward.

    Neville smiled, patting Theo''s back. "What the Glenwoods did to Ms. Carmichael was uneptable. It caused her real harm. Theo, you should apologize to her."

    ¡°Dad, what are you saying? How can you make Theo apologize?"

    Quentin''s expression changed

    instantly; he hadn''t expected his

    father to throw Theo under the bus

    like this.

    Theo had suffered enough already-Quentin couldn''t bear to watch his friend humiliated further.

    Neville shot Quentin a fierce re. "Keep your mouth shut."

    Theo dropped his eyes, a flicker of

    bitter self-mockery passing through them. His voice was subdued.

    "Quentin, let it go. Your father''s right.

    I owe her an apology."

    He turned to Citrine. "Citrine, I''m sorry. What my family did in the past was wrong.

    I apologize to you."

    Citrine absently tapped her finger against the table, saying nothing.

    A memory shed across her mind-in her previous life, she''d pped Jete Iverson right in

    front of theo. He''d forced her to

    kneel and apologize to Jete, and made sure she received the same p in return.

    Back then, the humiliation had eaten away at her. Now, thinking of it, she felt nothing but contempt.

    After a long pause, Citrine let out a short, dryugh, her toneced with irony. "Is that what you call an apology?"

    She clicked her tongue in disdain. "Back too straight. Face too pale."

    She gestured dismissively. "If you don''t want to apologize, don''t force yourself."

 Chapter 691

    Neville was sharp as a tack. The moment Citrine spoke, he saw right through her -she wanted nothing more than to humiliate Theo.

    Talk about fate handing you exactly what you need.

    Neville''s gaze turned icy as he looked at Theo. "Theo, get on your knees. p yourself."

    "Dad? What are you talking about? Our family and the Glenwoods have been close for generations! Theo''s my brother," Quentin protested, his face twisting with anger. He couldn''t hold it in any longer and shouted at Neville.

    Neville shot his son a fierce re, his voice edged with irritation. "Quiet. No one''s asking for your opinion."

    Then he turned back to Theo, a thin smile on his lips. "Theo, since you''re working for the Aldridge Group now, it''s only right you contribute to the Aldridge Group."

    Theo''s jaw clenched.

    Ever since the Glenwoods went bankrupt, all the fair-weather friends who used to flock to him now avoided him like the gue. The old-money families who once smiled at him now treated him like a leper.

    Mr. Barrett had given him a job, and Theo had thought-just maybe Mr. Barrett was different. He''d believed the kindness was real. But now it was obvious: it had all been a performance.

    Theo nced at Citrine. There was nothing in her eyes. She just watched as if the whole thing was a show.

    Lowering his gaze, Theo knelt in front of her with a dull thud.

    "I''m sorry. I''ve wronged you. The Glenwoods have wronged you." With that, he delivered a sharp p to his own cheek, again and again, each strike echoing in the silent room.

    Once the golden boy-now brought down to nothing.

    Citrine watched, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Once upon a time, she''d liked this man. Now, he was just another face in the crowd.

    She didn''t spare him even the flicker of an eye.

    It was Sebastian, instead, who looked on with a half-smile that didn''t reach his eyes. Citrine genuinely loathed this man.

    And for just a moment, the sense of danger Theo representedpletely vanished.

    When Neville decided Theo had been humiliated enough, he put on a show of concern, helping Theo up from the floor.

    He turned to Citrine with a rehearsed smile. "President Carmichael, you see-Theo''s apologized. Surely you''ve vented your anger. Perhaps now you''ll consider letting us join Blood Rain..."

    "No." Citrine''s voice cut him off before he could finish.

    Her eyes were cold as ice, dismissing everyone in the room.

    Quentin''s fists clenched in rage.

    He shot to his feet. "What the hell is wrong with you, Citrine Carmichael?"

    "Theo has already apologized! Even if you still hold a grudge against the Glenwoods, you''ve gotten your revenge. What right do you have to keep the Aldridge Group out?"

    He was practically shaking with fury.

    Citrine ignored him, turning to Neville instead with a mocking smile. "President Barrett, your son really is something-so na?ve, it''s almost cute."

    Her eyes were filled with biting sarcasm.

    Neville, of course, caught her

    meaning. He red at Quentin again before stering on his usual

    ingratiating smile for Citrine. "You''re absolutely right. My son''s been spoiled since he was a childehe''s just a useless, pampered yboy who doesn''t know a thing."

    "Dad, what are you saying?" Quentin''s face went pale, stunned by his father''s harsh words.

    Neville didn''t even spare him a nce.

    Citrine gave Neville a look of approval, her lips curling into a smirk as she tossed a mocking nce at Quentin. "Exactly. Someone like him is just dead weight."

    Quentin''s eyes widened in outrage. He exploded, roaring at Citrine, "Citrine Carmichael, who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?"

    Citrine just shook her head at his tantrum, adopting a look of mock heartbreak.

    She looked past him at Neville and said sweetly, "President Barrett, you seem to be in excellent health. Maybe consider having another child. Who knows-maybe there''s still hope for the Aldridge family''s future."

 Chapter 692

    Quentin''s face twisted with rage as he stormed toward Citrine. "What did you just say, Citrine Carmichael? Are you looking for trouble?"

    He looked ready to strike her, and Citrine narrowed her eyes, preparing to defend herself. But before she could react, arge, strong hand gripped Quentin''s arm, stopping him cold.

    Sebastian slowly rose to his feet, his grip on Quentin''s arm tightening with each second. "Looking for trouble, are you?" he said quietly.

    Without warning, he twisted Quentin''s arm sharply. Quentin let out a cry of pain and slumped in defeat, unable to move.

    Neville watched everything unfold, his heart sinking. Citrine had never been fond of the Aldridge family to begin with, and now Quentin had gone and made things worse. There was no way she''d agree to let the Aldridge Group join Blood Rain

    now.

    Citrine nced at Neville, a faint, mocking smile tugging at her lips. "All of ourpanies in Blood Rain keep their hands clean. I have no intention of letting in any rotten apples." Her voice turned icy on thest word.

    Neville''s expression darkened.

    What did she know?

    He studied Citrine''s face, searching for any hint, but she looked perfectly calm.

    Maybe he was just being paranoid.

    Neville repeated this to himself until, finally, he managed to believe it.

    Citrine had onlye today to see what the Aldridges were up to. Now that she had her answer, there was no reason for her to linger.

    She turned to Sebastian. "Sebastian, let''s go."

    Sebastian understood at once, falling into step behind her as they left, not bothering to say a single word of farewell. The two of them walked out as if the rest of the room didn''t exist.

    After they were gone, Neville erupted in anger,shing out at everyone around him.

    .n

    Ins

    It was only dayster that Citrine heard what happened after she''d left: in front of everyone, Neville had invoked the family''s old code of punishment and given Quentina brutal beating. The boy had been left ck and blue.

    When Citrine heard the news, she just shook her head with a wry smile. "Serves him right."

    Ever since the Glenwoods had gone

    bankrupt and Talbot Glenwood hadnded in prison, Theo, Kali, and

    Jete Glenwood had been staying at Quentin''s ce for the time being.

    That night, as usual, Kali crept quietly into Quentin''s room with a jar of ointment.

    Quentin had liked Kali since they were kids, and because of that, she''d always had free run of his room.

    When Kali slipped in, Quentin had just finished his shower and was toweling off, shirtless.

    She hadn''t knocked, so the two of them nearly collided.

    Quentin jumped in surprise. "Kali? What are you doing here?" There was a sh of panic in his eyes as he scrambled to pull on his bathrobe, moving as fast as he could.

    Even though he was quick and didn''t seem angry, Kali still caught a note of irritation in his tone.

    For a brief moment, she wondered if he even liked her at all.

    If you really liked someone, wouldn''t you want them barging into your room? Why would you sound so annoyed?

    A sudden wave of hurt washed over her. She looked up at Quentin, her voice small and uncertain. "Quentin, are you... are you tired of me?"

    Quentin finished tying his robe and looked up, meeting Kali''s eyes-red with unshed tears. Only then did he realize how harsh he''d sounded.

    "I''m sorry, Kali. I didn''t mean it. Will you forgive me?" Quentin''s voice was unsteady, his gaze anxious. He didn''t even understand himself anymore.

    He''d always liked Kali the most. And yet, just now, he''d lost his temper with her. He hated himself for it.

 Chapter 693

    Things were different now. The Glenwood family had fallen from grace, and Hastings Cooper was hopelessly bewitched by that vixen Citrine Carmichael. Kali realized Quentin was the only person left she could truly rely on.

    She shed Quentin a sweet, ingratiating smile. "Quentin, I forgive you."

    It was only after she spoke that Kali noticed how, more and more, she''d started

    trying to please Quentin-sometimes without even realizing it.

    But it hadn''t always been this way. In the past, it was Quentin who''d always tried to win her over.

    Kali pressed her lips together, forcing down a wave of emotion.

    She mustered a big, cheerful grin. "Quentin, have you forgotten your injury?"

    She held up the first aid kit she''d brought, shaking it in front of him.

    "I''m here to patch you up," Kali said.

    Without waiting for his response, she perched on the edge of Quentin''s bed. She patted the mattress beside her and called, putting on a yful, high-pitched voice, "Come here, Quentin, let me take care of that wound."

    Something about this felt strange to Quentin, though he couldn''t quite put his finger on it. Still, seeing Kali''s hopeful expression, he couldn''t bring himself to refuse. He crossed the room and sat beside her.

    Kali''s lips curled into a triumphant little smile. In the next instant, she reached out and tried to undo the sash of his robe.

    But just as her hands touched the fabric, Quentin''s expression darkened. "Don''t."

    He caught her wrists, stopping her, then abruptly stood and put distance between them.

    Quentin couldn''t shake the sense that Kali had changedtely-she wasn''t the girl he remembered. Watching her, he asked, worry in his voice, "Kali, what''s going on? Why are you acting so differently?"

    Kali''s face went pale. "What do you mean, Quentin? Did I scare you?"

    Had shee on too strong and frightened him?

    Quentin hurried to reassure her. "No... it''s not that."

    Then, as if something had just urred to him, he added, "Kali, listen, even if the Glenwood family is bankrupt, I''ll always protect you

    You

    don''t have to tiptoe around me or try so hard to please me. Just be yourself, like before."

    He chalked up all Kali''s strange behavior to her losing her family''s support after

    the bankruptcy-of course she felt insecure.

    Since Quentin had already said so much, Kali had no choice but to y along. She pouted, voice trembling with grievance, "I''m sorry, Quentin. I''m just scared. I have nothing left now."

    Quentin''s eyes softened with pity. He stepped closer and gently patted her head. "Don''t worry. From now on, the Aldridge family is your home."

    Kali stared at him, putting on a look of teary gratitude. "Thank you, Quentin. I don''t know how I''ll ever repay you."

    She looked like she might burst into tears any second, and Quentin rushed tofort her. "You don''t have to repay me. We grew up together-you''re like a little sister to me."

    At that, something flickered in Kali''s eyes. Sister?

    Didn''t he like her? How had she suddenly been relegated to "little sister"?

    No, that wouldn''t do. Hastings was

    already under Citrine''s spell, which meant Quentin was all she had left He''d always liked her-maybe he was a little careless, not as

    ven

    steadfast as Hastings, but he was the sole heir of the Aldridge family. Everything would be his one day.

    Quentin was her best option. There was no way she''d let him go.

 Chapter 694

    With that thought, Kali spoke up again. ¡°Quentin, let me put some ointment on your back."

    "Your wound''s on your back, so... just turn around and take off your shirt." She tried to keep her voice as casual as possible.

    Noticing that Kali didn''t seem to be in the best of moods, Quentin didn''t protest this time. He simply shrugged off his bathrobe right in front of her, exposing his toned upper body.

    He turned his back toward her.

    Kali couldn''t help but feel a flicker of satisfaction as she looked at his lean, muscr waist. Whatever else could be said about him, the guy was in great shape.

    She opened the jar of ointment and began gently smoothing it over Quentin''s back with her fingers. Each touch was soft, her fingertips lingering a little too long against his skin.

    Quentin grunted, unable to hide his difort. "Kali, are you done yet?"

    She paused. ¡°Not yet. I haven''t finished covering everything."

    Nearly ten minutes passed before Kali finally set the ointment aside.

    For Quentin, those ten minutes felt like an eternity.

    He didn''t know what was wrong with him. He''d always liked Kali-ever since they were kids. But now her touch made him strangely uneasy. More than once, he''d nearly asked her to take her hands off his back.

    As Quentin reached for his shirt, Kali''s expression shifted. Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him from behind.

    Her voice was soft and sweet. "Quentin, it must hurt, doesn''t it? I heard it was Citrine who got you in trouble with your uncle that night. She really is a troublemaker."

    The mention of Citrine instantly set Quentin off. He let out a cold snort and grumbled, "That brat didn''t just get me punished by my dad-she also went out of her way to humiliate your brother, made him kneel and p himself in front of everyone."

    "If I ever run into her again, I swear I won''t let her off so easy."

    He clenched his jaw, anger shing in his eyes.

    For some reason, even though Quentin was speaking ill of Citrine, Kali still felt a twinge of difort.

    She frowned, hesitated, then looked at Quentin. "Quentin, you seem awfully fixated on Citrine, don''t you?"

    He scoffed. "That little witch has embarrassed me more times than can count, and now she''s gone after your brother too. I could wrim

    neck."

    her

    But despite his words, Kali could see the spark in Quentin''s eyes whenever he mentioned Citrine.

    She fell silent, lost in thought, before

    finally asking, ¡°Quentin, if you ever had

    choose between me and

    Citrine, who would you pick?"

    He didn''t even hesitate. "That''s not even a question. Of course I''d choose you: We grew up

    together besides, Citrine

    Carmichael is as nasty as theel

    Kali had been feeling uneasy, but after hearing his answer, she finally rxed.

    At least Quentin didn''t have any feelings for that woman.

    It was only then that Quentin noticed Kali''s arms were still wrapped around his waist.

    He awkwardly tried to pry her hands free, but before he could, she asked quietly, "Quentin, do you still like me?"

    He answered without pause, "Of course I do." As he spoke, he made another attempt to free himself.

    But Kali clung to him even tighter.

    There was a smile in her eyes now as she said, in all seriousness, "Quentin, I like you too."

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 695

    Kali''s words left Quentinpletely stunned.

    He''d always found himself quietlypeting with Hastings for Kali''s attention, wishing desperately for even a little more of her affection. This was supposed to be everything he had ever wanted, and yet now, he couldn''t bring himself to smile.

    Kali didn''t seem to notice his unease. She squeezed his hand a bit tighter, her voice soft and tentative. "Quentin, let''s be together."

    Right now, she had nothing left-Quentin was the only person she could hold onto.

    When he remained silent, Kali took it as his consent.

    She slid her arms around him from behind, her hands wandering restlessly down his chest.

    Quentin''s eyes flew wide as he sat rigidly, his back to her.

    In his memory, Kali had always been gentle, obedient-a girl who needed to be protected. But the person behind him now felt shameless, brazen, nothing like the delicate soul he thought he knew.

    So which was the real Kali? Was she the vulnerable girl he''d always wanted to rescue, or was this bold, reckless woman her true self?

    Quentin''s heart sank. He had never liked people who were shameless or pushy, and now, to his own surprise, he felt a flicker of disgust for Kali.

    He caught her hand in his and firmly moved it away from his chest, then pulled his robe tighter around himself and stood up as if escaping.

    "Kali, I did like you once. But I''m not sure if I still do," he said, turning his head, unable to meet her eyes.

    The rejection was so blunt, Kali''s face went utterly pale. "Quentin, what are you saying?"

    She''d been like a little sister to him all their lives, and Quentin''s heart softened. "Kali, I... I just can''t be with you."

    After a pause, he added, "But don''t worry. We grew up together, and as long as I''m around, I won''t let anyone hurt you."

    Kali pressed her lips into a thin line, her eyes dimming. She lowered her gaze for

    a moment, then looked up at him again. "Is it because of Citrine?"

    Over the years, Quentin had been

    with plenty of women, but they were all fleeting Kali never saw any of them twice. Except for one: Citrine. Again and again, their messy, entanglements resurfaced. Every time Quentin mentioned her, he''d either curse her out or get so angry he couldn''t speak straight. No matter how much he insisted he hated her, the truth was obvious-he was different when it came to Citrine.

    Quentin''s eyes widened in disbelief. "What? How could this possibly have anything to do with that spiteful brat?"

    Kali''s anxiety was gnawing at her, and she couldn''t stop herself from pressing

    further. ¡°Quentin, have you fallen for Citrine Carmichael?"

    Quentin bristled, snapping back immediately. "Of course not! How could I ever like someone so cruel? I can''t stand her!"

    But Kali wasn''t convinced. "You keep

    saying you hate her, that you want nothing to do with her, but every

    time, she gets under your skin. You''re not the same with her, Quentin."

    He fell silent, at a loss for words. How could he possibly have feelings for that awful woman?

    Quentin didn''t reply, and Kali took his silence as an answer.

    She watched as his expression grew darker, her own mood souring with it.

    That wretched woman-this was all Citrine''s fault.

    First, Citrine had taken Hastings

    from her. Now, even Quentin was et

    slipping away. Was that woman some kind of siren in a past life, luring everyone to her?

    Quentin cleared his throat awkwardly, eager to end the conversation. ¡°Alright, I

    need to get some rest. Kali, please leave."

 Chapter 696

    Kali''s face was dark with frustration. She realized she''d let her desperation get the better of her, but regret was useless now.

    Pressing her lips together, she finally turned and left Quentin''s bedroom.

    Downstairs, Jete was getting herself a ss of water. She looked up just in time to see Kali storming out of Quentin''s room, her expression thunderous.

    At this hour, rushing out of his room in such a state-what else could that mean?

    Clearly, Kali had been a little too eager, but judging by her face, she hadn''t seeded.

    A new idea began to take root in Jete''s mind.

    If Kali could try her luck, why couldn''t she?

    Theo had lost the Glenwood family''s support, andtely, he''d grown colder by the day. She couldn''t rely on him anymore. It was time to consider other options.

    She nced down at hercy nightgown, barely more than a whisper of fabric, and a n formed instantly.

    A few minutester, Jete carried a ss of milk upstairs and knocked softly on Quentin''s bedroom door.

    Inside the master suite, Quentin heard the knock and felt irritation prickle beneath his skin.

    Not again.

    Reluctantly, he opened the door.

    For a split second, he was surprised-it wasn''t Kali.

    He raised an eyebrow. "Ms. Iverson, it''ste. Did you need something?"

    Jete shed him a perfectly sweet smile, offering the ss of milk. "Quentin, you''ve been so kind to me these past few days. If it weren''t for you taking me in, I''d probably be out on the street right now."

    She dabbed at imaginary tears, her face the picture of gratitude.

    Quentin found the whole scene a bit odd but nevertheless took the milk from her hand.

    "Thank you," he said, his lips curving in a polite smile.

    But when Jete made no move to leave, Quentin''s brow furrowed.

    Sensing his confusion, Jete hurried to exin, "Quentin, how''s your back? Has it healed at all?"

    Before he could answer, she pressed on, "It must be tough to put ointment on your back by yourself. Would you like me to help?"

    Before he could protest, Jete boldly stepped into the room and perched herself on the edge of his bed, uncapping the jar of ointment she''d brought along.

    Has everyone gone insane tonight? Quentin wondered, eyeing Jete sitting on his bed.

    "That won''t be necessary. I''ve already taken care of it," he said, his tone clipped.

    Standing above her, he couldn''t help but notice how her nightgown shimmered against her pale skin, the hemoiding high on her thighs. It was blindingly obvious-and awkward.

    He turned his head away, his voice tense. "You should probably go."

    Seeing Quentin look down and away, Jete mistook his difort for bashfulness and grew even more confident.

    Her thoughts drifted to the so-called "finishing school" she''d enrolled in recently. The ce was infamous for teaching women how tond

    wealthy husbands-lesson ns

    packed with strategies for charming

    and managing men.

    ording to the school''s glossy brochure, sixty percent of their graduates married into old money.

    Jete had signed up for the exclusive VIP ss, which promised even better odds.

    She''d already practiced her techniques on several men around town, and every one of them had fallen under her spell.

    With that sess bolstering her confidence, Jete beamed at Quentin. "Quentin, why are you sending me away? I''m only worried about you, you know."

 Chapter 697

    Jete''s voice was pinched and affected, every smile and frown mimicking the girls from those elite finishing schools.

    She tossed her hair with what she clearly thought was irresistible charm.

    "Quentin, can I stay here tonight?" Her gaze was fixed on him, wide-eyed and pleading.

    Quentin''s expression was on the verge of cracking.

    A moment ago, he''d merely assumed Jete had too much to drink and was acting out of sorts, but now, hearing those words, his eyes chilled with sudden rity.

    He spoke, his tone edged with warning. "Ms. Iverson, I think you''re forgetting¡ª Theo is your boyfriend."

    Jete swallowed her fear, mustering her courage to reach out, palm pressed against his chest.

    ¡°Quentin, you''ve got it all wrong. There''s nothing between me and Theo, I swear. I don''t have any feelings for him."

    Quentin couldn''t help a bitterugh. "That so? I heard you''ve been living at Theo''s ever since your family ran into trouble. Just the two of you, alone under one roof- you really expect me to believe nothing happened?"

    Jete forced a few tears, brows knit in distress. "Quentin, you''re mistaken. I only stayed at Theo''s because my father is Mr. Talbot''s brother-Theo was just taking pity on me, that''s all. It had nothing to do with romance."

    She looked him dead in the eye, trying her best to sound sincere. ¡°Quentin, the truth is... the person I''ve always liked is you."

    "From the very first time I met you, Quentin, I couldn''t help myself."

    She really was putting on a show. Quentin let out a short, mockingugh.

    Did she think he was an idiot? Maybe another guy would''ve been fooled, but Quentin had dealt with more than his fair share of women over the years-he could see right through this act.

    Where in the world had Theo picked her up? Cheap tricks straight out of a bar, nothing but a dime-a-dozen gold-digger''s routine.

    He was disgusted he''d even given her the time of day.

    But Jete, oblivious to how much she repulsed him, only doubled down on her performance.

    She steeled herself, voice husky and sultry. "Quentin, tonight... I can be yours."

    In one fluid motion, her silk nightgown slipped to the floor.

    Jete stood there,pletely bare.

    "Quentin, don''t you want me?" Her eyes burned with desperate confidence, certain of her allure.

    Quentin was about to lose his

    temper when suddenly he caught sight of someone at the doorway. His face changed instantly; he shielded his eyes, quickly

    vel

    sidestepping Jete and moving to stand behind Theo.

    "Theo, perfect timing. You should see for yourself what this woman''s really like."

    Jete spun around and locked

    eyes with Theo''s icy stare. Her face

    drained of color, and she

    immediately dove under Quentin''s covers, pulling the sheets up as high as they would go.

    Quentin recoiled. "Who said you could get into my bed? Get out, you''re filthy." Jete said nothing, just wept harder, as if she were the injured party. Quentin jumped to defend himself. "Theo, she''s the one who came to my room and tried to seduce me. I want nothing to do with her, you have to believe me."

    Theo''s face didn''t flicker, not even a hint of concern. His voice was t, almost bored. "I''m not deaf, Quentin. I heard everything."

    Theo clearly wasn''t interested in dragging this out, but Quentin couldn''t let it go.

    He had always despised women who threw themselves at men for status or money, and he had no intention of sugarcoating it now.

    "Ms. Iverson, you used to be ady from a respectable family. What are you now? Even the girls working the bar have more self-respect than you. Throwing yourself into a man''s bed like this-how low can you go?"

 Chapter 698

    Quentin let out a cold snort. "You really are your parents'' child-just as low and shameless as they were."

    His contempt and disgust were in as day, sharp and undisguised in every word.

    Jete''s greatest fear was always this-people dragging her parents into things, using their mistakes to attack her. The words hit her like a stone sinking in her chest.

    She clutched the nket to her chest, trying to cover herself, overwhelmed with humiliation. In that instant, regret crashed down on her. What was she thinking, crawling into Quentin''s bed? She must havepletely lost her mind.

    Even Kali-Quentin''s old me, the one everyone said he''d never forgotten-had failed to win him over. How could she possibly have seeded?

    Jete''s face was ashen, and all she wanted was for the two of them to leave. But Quentin and Theo seemed in no hurry; they just stood there watching her, as if this was some kind of macabre performance.

    They didn''t budge. The silence stretched on, until finally themotion drew Kali to the doorway.

    Kali took in the scene at a nce: Jete, naked, tangled in Quentin''s sheets, her silk nightgown abandoned on the floor-no question what had happened here.

    A wave of anger twisted Kali''s features.

    She hadn''t managed to win Quentin, and now this wretched girl had beaten her to it. And to think she''d ever called Jete a friend. She must have been blind.

    Kali''s hands were trembling with rage, and she wanted nothing more than to p Jete across the face, to leave her marked and ruined. But she nced at Quentin standing in the doorway and bit back her fury. Quentin had no patience for hysterics or drama, and she knew it.

    Still, Jete couldn''t be allowed to stay-not after this.

    Feigning nonchnce, Kali turned to Theo. "Theo, I need to tell you something."

    "What is it?" Theo looked at her, confusion flickering in his eyes.

    Kali hesitated, letting the silence draw out before speaking, as if she were struggling with her conscience. "Remember when I told Jete about how you were rescued as a child at Havencrest? The very next day, she sought you out. Doesn''t that seem... a little too convenient?"

    Theo wasn''t stupid. He heard the implication immediately.

    Coincidences like that didn''t just happen. His gaze went cold and sharp, fixing on Jete with a sudden, frightening intensity. "Jete, where did you really get that locket?"

    Jete stared at Kali, disbelief and betrayal warring in her eyes. She couldn''t believe Kali would throw her under the bus-but then, after what she''d done, was it really a surprise Katt hated her now?

    She tried to y dumb. "Theo, what are you talking about? I don''t understand."

    Theo wasn''t having it. He strode

    over, sitting on the edge of the bed,

    looming over her. "Don''t think just

    because the Glenwoods went bankrupt, I can''t deal with you. If you don''t tell me the truth, you''ll regret

    it.

    No-she couldn''t admit it. If she did, Quentin would throw her out of the Aldridge family for sure.

    Jete shook her head. "Theo, I really don''t know. I''ve worn that locket since I was a child."

    "Still lying to me?" Theo''s eyes were wild with age. "Do you really think I won''t hurt you?" He reached out, his hand tightening around her throat over the nket, squeezing harder and harder.

    Jete gasped for air, struggling desperately, unable to get out a single word.

    He''s lost it¡ªhe''spletely insane.

    As Theo''s grip tightened, genuine terror took hold of Jete.

    She summoned every ounce of strength she had, mouthing the words, "I''ll tell you! I''ll tell you!"

    Theo saw the words form on her lips and, with deliberate slowness, loosened his grip.

    "Talk," he growled, eyes locked on hers.

    Jete clutched her throat for a long moment, struggling to catch her breath. When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse and raw. "It was Citrine. The locket belonged to Citrine."

 Chapter 699

    Boom!

    Theo felt as if his chest were about to explode.

    All his life¡ªwhether in the past or this one-he''d believed the girl who saved him as a child had been Jete.

    In his previous life, desperate to repay Jete''s supposed kindness, he''d even gone so far as to conspire with the Iversons to steal her kidney. That wasn''t all. He''d done countless things to hurt Citrine-so many that he didn''t even dare think about them now.

    God, what kind of monster had he be?

    Theo''s eyes turned bloodshot. Suddenly, he looked up and red at Jete as if he could burn right through her. "You lying witch. How dare you deceive me?"

    He stormed forward and wrapped his hands around Jete''s neck, squeezing hard.

    "I''ll kill you,¡± he growled, his grip tightening, veins bulging in his arms. In that moment, he lookedpletely unhinged.

    Quentin, fearing Theo might actually strangle her, rushed over and yanked him away.

    Jete gasped for air, heaving in desperate breaths.

    Quentin shot her a cold look and snapped, "Get out."

    Jete flinched, her whole body trembling.

    Still terrified, she sucked in lungfuls of air, trying to steady herself. Once she''d calmed down, she clutched the nket tighter around herself and mbered off Quentin''s bed as quickly as she could.

    Before she left, she shot Kali a venomous re, then turned to Theo. "Believe what you want, but it was Kali''s idea for me to lie to you in the first ce."

    If she couldn''t have peace, neither should they.

    With that, Jete fled the room-practically running for her life. Guilt and regret gnawed at her; she should never have tried to fool a lunatic like Theo.

    The murderous look in Theo''s eyes hadn''t been feigned, and now, terrified he might actually snap and kill her, Jete didn''t dare stay another minute under the Aldridge

    family roof. In the middle of the night, still wrapped in a nket, she bolted from Quentin''s ce.

    Once she was gone, only Quentin, Theo, and Kali remained in the room.

    Kali looked stricken, fidgeting nervously. She nced at Theo, voice quivering with anxiety. "Theo you have to believe me. I only mentioned to her that you''d been saved by a girl when we were kids because I saw the ne around her neck. I never told her to lie to you."

    Remembering how Theo had just lost control, Kali was more than a little frightened. She bit her lip, ncing at him, too scared to meet his gaze.

    Theo stared at her, his emotions a tangled mess.

    In hisst life, Kali had bullied

    Citrine. After he got together with Citrine, she''d had to give Kali blood every so often, and whenever Citrine couldn''t get to the hospital in time, he and his brothers would berate her mercilessly, treating her terribly.

    It wasn''t until after Citrine died that he realized how wrong he''d been. By then, he''d lost his mind and in the end, not even Kali escaped his wrath.

    Looking at this girl he''d grown up with, the affection he once felt for his little sister had faded.

    Still, in this life, Citrine hadn''t be Kali''s personal blood bank. Theo forced himself to hold back and simply warned, ¡°Kali, if what Jete says is true, I hope

    it never happens again. Otherwise, I won''t be so forgiving."

    Kali picked up on the protective edge in Theo''s words¡ªa warning in defense of Citrine.

    She stared at him in disbelief. "Theo? I''m your sister! How could you say that to me over Citrine Carmichael?"

    Theo wanted to say that Citrine was his girlfriend, but in this life, they hadn''t gotten together. The words caught in his throat.

    He refused to exin further. ¡°Just remember this: Citrine is with me. If you ever

    hurt her, you''re no sister of mine."

    The ultimatum hung heavy in the air-this was the first time Theo had ever spoken to Kali with such finality.

 Chapter 700

    Kali stormed out in tears, her anger barely contained.

    Now only Theo and Quentin remained in the room.

    Quentin''s gaze lingered on Theo, dark and conflicted. "Theo, you used to dote on Kali. How could you say something like that to her just now?"

    He frowned, then hesitated before continuing, "Theo, do you... like Citrine Carmichael? When did that start?" He remembered how much Theo used to despise Citrine.

    At the mention of Citrine, a flicker of warmth finally appeared in Theo''s eyes. He spoke softly, "I love her. I have for a very, very long time."

    He''d been hopelessly in love with her-even in another life.

    For reasons Quentin couldn''t quite put his finger on, irritation red in his chest. He didn''t understand why, but hearing Theo say those words made his blood boil.

    "It was bad enough when Hastings lost his head over that toxic woman," Quentin snapped. "But now you too? Have you fallen under her spell as well?"

    Theo''s expression hardened; he hated when people spoke ill of Citrine. "She''s not toxic," he shot back. "She''s the kindest girl in the world."

    Quentin clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "What''s so great about her, anyway? Is she really that irresistible?"

    Theo nodded without hesitation. "Of course."

    He nced at Quentin, then added, "If she wasn''t, you wouldn''t talk about her all the time."

    Theo''s eyes narrowed. "Quentin, you''ve never wasted a word on people you genuinely dislike. Yettely, you can''t stop mentioning Citrine. Tell me honestly¡ª are you really just holding a grudge over that punishment your family handed down because of her?"

    Caught off guard, Quentin pressed his lips into a thin line and fell silent.

    It was true. Every time he saw Citrine, she drove him up the wall. And yet, as much as he imed to hate her, he always found himself looking forward to their next encounter-even if it was just to argue with her. Hell, half of what he did seemed designed to get her attention.

    Now that Theo had called him out, Quentin didn''t know what to say.

    Thinking back on his argument with Kali earlier, Quentin''s gaze darkened. Could it really be that he liked that woman?

    Before he could dwell on it, Theo spoke again. "Quentin, there''s plenty I''d give up for you. But not Citrine. She''s everything to me.¡±

    Quentin wanted to insist he didn''t care about Citrine, but the words stuck in his throat.

    Seeing his silence, Theo continued, "Quentin, haven''t you always wanted to know who it was that beat you up and left you half-naked back at Havencrest?"

    At the mention of that humiliating night, Quentin''s eyes widened and his jaw clenched. "You found out who that bastard was?"

    Theo nodded.

    That kind of grudge was impossible to forget. Quentin had fantasized about

    making whoever did it pay¡ªpainfully.

    He demanded, "Who was it? Tell me who the hell was it?"

    Theo answered calmly, "Citrine."

    "What?" Quentin almost thought he''d misheard.

    He stared at Theo in disbelief, shaking his head. "No way.

    Absolutely not. The guy who jumped me was strong as hell-I thought he''d break every bone in my body.

    There''s no way that was a woman.¡±

    Theo had expected his disbelief. Without another word, he tossed his phone to Quentin.

    "Check the photo gallery. See for yourself."

 Chapter 701

    Quentin had never been able to let go of the humiliation he''d suffered at

    Havencrest. For a man as proud as he was, the memory festered¡ªa bruise to his ego that just wouldn''t fade. If Citrine ever learned about it, who knew how her opinion of him might change? She might even start to despise him.

    And if that happened, well¡ªat least no one would bepeting with him anymore.

    Theo admitted to himself that his tactics were underhanded, but he had his reasons. He needed to do this.

    After scrolling through Theo''s photo gallery for a while, Quentin finally found the video he''d been searching for.

    There, clear as day, was the girl: fists and feet flying, every blownding with merciless intent. When she finished, she even shot the camera a triumphant little grin.

    It was undeniable. Quentin had no choice but to believe it now.

    He was furious, grinding his teeth so hard it was a wonder he didn''t crack a mr. "That brat. What a little monster. If beating me up wasn''t enough, she went and dumped me half-naked into someone''s private party. I''ll never live down the shame I suffered at Havencrest."

    Since that night, Quentin hadn''t set foot near Havencrest again-not even for work trips. He''d always found someone else to go in his ce.

    "That brat. All I did was kidnap her once I never evenid a finger on her. And she repays me by roughing me up and humiliating me in public." Quentin was practically shaking with rage.

    Theo watched Quentin''s expression carefully. He noticed, with some relief, that beneath Quentin''s outrage there was no real hatred or disgust for Citrine. Telling him the truth hadn''t made him despise her after all.

    Theo dropped his gaze, saying nothing more.

    The next day, Quentin went straight to Citrine''s school.

    As luck would have it, Citrine had just finished ss. She was making her way down the front steps when she spotted Quentin, leaning casually beneath an old oak tree.

    She tried to pretend she hadn''t seen him, but Quentin strode directly toward her.

    "Citrine Carmichael! Stop right there!" His voice rang out loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

    A handful of heads turned in their direction. Citrine had no choice but to halt.

    Crossing her arms, she shot him a frosty look. "What do you want?"

    Seeing her so cool and collected almost made Quentinugh-almost. Who could have guessed that someone who looked so innocent could be the same girl who''d beaten him senseless and stripped him in front of half the town?

    But as absurd as it sounded, it was the truth.

    Citrine bristled under his stare. "What''s your problem? Why are you looking at me like that?"

    "I have to admit, Citrine Carmichael, you

    delicate act so well-but scenes,

    "I have to admit, Citrino de Est

    me fooled. You y the

    the

    you''re anything but Soft."

    Quentin circled her, giving her a slow, deliberate once-over.

    "You''re insane," Citrine muttered, not following his train of thought. She turned as if to leave.

    The moment she moved, Quentin reached out and caught her wrist. "Don''t go."

    She yanked her hand away with a look of pure disgust. "Don''t touch me with your filthy hands."

    Something about her revulsion unsettled Quentin more than he cared to admit. He forced the feeling down.

    Still fuming, he red at her. ¡°Listen, Citrine Carmichael. I might''ve kidnapped you that once, but I never actually did anything to you. And yet you beat me up and humiliated me in front of everyone."

    Citrine smiled slyly, remembering exactly what she''d done. "You had iting."

    "You owe me an apology," Quentin spat through gritted teeth, blocking her path with both arms.

    Citrine barked out augh, as if he''d told the best joke she''d heard all week. "An apology? In your dreams."

    She nced at his outstretched arms, then swiftly grabbed one, twisted it behind his back, and shoved down hard.

 Chapter 702

    Quentin had never expected Citrine to actually strike him. The sudden blow caught himpletely off guard; pain shot through his arm, and he clutched it for a long moment, trying to recover.

    By the time he looked up again, Citrine had already vanished.

    A few dayster, the staff at Citrine''s detective agency reported that Jete and Theo had had a falling out, and now Jete had been booted from the Aldridge family home at Quentin''smand.

    After being thrown out, Jete tried desperately to reach Aline, calling again and again, but days passed with no luck, and the money in her pockets was running dangerously low.

    When Citrine heard the news, she sat in her office, the corners of her lips curving into a faint, satisfied smile.

    "Jete, from here on out, your life is about to be a living hell."

    She put on some music-something upbeat-and popped open a bottle of red wine to celebrate.

    A few minutester, Carlotta knocked and entered the office.

    Her tone was respectful. "Ms. Winters, is there anything you need?"

    Citrine set her winess down and fixed Carlotta with a serious gaze before answering.

    "I want Jete sold to Crestwood''s most notorious pleasure den."

    Carlotta''s face paled slightly at the words.

    Crestwood''s most infamous den of vice was the Neon Hive.

    Every night, wealthy patrons flocked there under the guise of ''business'' to indulge themselves, treating the people inside as little more than ythings.

    Looking at Citrine now, Carlotta felt a sudden chill run down her spine.

    Having worked by Citrine''s side for so long, she knew as well as anyone that Citrine''s ruthlessness matched her uncanny business acumen¡ªif not surpassed

    it. She was more formidable than most of Crestwood''s corporate titans.

    In that instant, Carlotta realized she was afraid. Afraid that one day, she might wind up on the receiving end of Citrine''s wrath.

    Citrine noticed Carlotta''s silence and caught the flicker of fear in her eyes.

    Perhaps guessing her thoughts, Citrine asked quietly, "Are you afraid of me?"

    Carlotta blurted out, "No... No, of course not."

    "Carlotta, know I''m not a saint. If you''re afraid, just say so. I can help you find another job. With your experience, you''d do well anywhere." Citrine''s voice was even, her expression unreadable.

    Carlotta was stunned, and a wave of regret washed over her.

    "Citrine, are you... firing me?" she asked, disbelief coloring her words.

    Citrine smiled gently. "Only if that''s what you want. The CICI Group will always be your home."

    Carlotta breathed a long sigh of relief, her eyes growing misty.

    Regret gnawed at her. Even though Citrine had never said it aloud, Carlotta had always known about herplicated rtionship with the Iverson family, and that Citrine had secrets-burdens no one her age should have to carry.

    She knew this was just vengeance. Citrine was making sure the wicked paid for what they''d done. Yet for a moment, Carlotta had feared that wrath would turn on her.

    How could she have doubted Citrine?

    "I''m sorry, Citrine," Carlotta said, guilt written all over her face.

    Citrine just smiled. "You have nothing to apologize for, Carlotta." There was a hint

    of mischief in her eyes-she knew she could be ruthless.

    At that moment, Carlotta thought the woman before her was the kindest soul in the world.

    All Citrine wanted was for the wicked to be punished. How could that be wrong?

    If there was any me to be had, it was on those who had hurt her. Citrine, with all her goodness, had done nothing wrong.

    Carlotta quicklyposed herself, stood up, and spoke with renewed determination. "I''ll take care of it."" right away, Citrine. You can count on me Jete will get exactly what she deserves."

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 703

    Ever since Citrine returned to the Saunders family,ughter seemed to fill the house more and more each day. Even Nigel, who used to stay away for weeks at a time, had starteding home regrly. The misunderstandings between him and the rest of the family hadpletely disappeared, all thanks to Citrine.

    Now, Citrine practically ruled the household. Everyone deferred to her wishes without question.

    Since Citrine came home, Hilda was no longer the iron-fisted matriarch people used to whisper about. Gentleness had reced her usual sharpness, so much so that she seemed like a different person entirely.

    Monica and Wade, for their part, hadn''t been yelled at or scolded in ages. The peace and quiet were almost unsettling for them-they still weren''t quite used to

    it.

    Citrine sat on the couch with a cat curled up in herp. Hilda and Inez nked her on either side-one shelling pistachios for her, the other offering peeled clementine segments directly into her hand.

    The rest of the Saunders family watched from across the room, longing to squeeze in next to Citrine, but Hilda''s and Inez''s sharp res kept them firmly in ce. No one dared to get too close.

    At first, Citrine had felt awkward being waited on like this, but Hilda and Inez''s warmth was impossible to resist. In the end, she simply went along with it.

    Her phone rang just then, cutting through thefort of the moment. Citrine sat up and nced at the caller ID before getting up from the couch.

    "Mom, Grandma, I''m going to step outside and take this call," she said, already heading toward the back door.

    Once she reached the garden, she answered.

    A voice came through almost immediately. "Chairwoman, Jete took the bait. She''s already sold herself to Neon Hive."

    A slow, satisfied smile curled on Citrine''s lips. "Excellent work."

    With that, she hung up briskly.

    Meanwhile, inside Neon Hive-

    Jetey motionless on the floor, battered and bloodied, as if she were little more than a discarded animal. A group of men had just finished beating her, fists and boots leaving her half-conscious.

    One of the men nudged her with his foot, testing to see if she was still alive. "She dead?"

    Jete''s entire body ached. She kept her eyes shut, feigning death, praying they''d leave her alone.

    She couldn''tprehend how a

    simple part-time job-something a friend had introduced her to-had turned into this nightmare. She''d only realized after signing the contract that she was now nothing but a ything for the club''s male clientele.

    The man was about to turn away when he noticed the flutter of her eyshes. "You little bitch, trying to fool me?" he growled, a cold smile on his lips. He raised

    his foot and kicked Jete again, harder this time.

    "Not only do you refuse to cooperate, now you''re trying to y beat you to death if you pull

    the "he spat, raining down

    blows with no mercy.

    Jete''s screams filled the room, her pain so intense it felt like her body had been torn open.

    With death looming over her, terror swallowed her whole.

    "Please don''t hit me. I''ll do what you want... I''ll cooperate," she managed to choke out.

    The man finally stopped. He crouched down, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and pped her hard across the face.

    "That''s more like it. If you''d acted like this from the start, I wouldn''t have had to be so rough."

    He grabbed her by the throat, hauled her up, and dumped her onto a chair facing a mirror.

    Jete caught sight of her reflection-her face swollen and bruised beyond recognition. She looked utterly pitiful.

    She reached up, trembling, to smooth her matted hair, not daring to say a word.

    The man snorted at her, then lit a cigarette and exhaled slowly. "As long as you''re here, you''ll never be cheated out of your money. Sell enough drinks, catch the eye of a big spender, and your life will be set. Understand?"

 Chapter 704

    Jete never imagined her life woulde to this.

    She clenched her jaw, forcing the words out. "Adam, I... I swear I''ll do my best."

    "That''s the spirit," her brother replied with a sly smile.

    A few dayster, once the bruises hadpletely faded from her face, someone came to give her orientation.

    There was a rule at Neon Hive: every new girl had toplete a week-long training before she could start working.

    At first, Jete feared the training would be brutally tough, but her nerves quickly eased when the actual lessons began.

    The instructor spoke, enunciating every word clearly, teaching them lines to use with clients:

    "Darling, right this way."

    "There you are! I''ve missed you so much."

    "I''m broke again, won''t you spoil me a little?"

    "If you buy me a present, your wife won''t get jealous, will she?"

    As Jete listened, a flood of old memories came rushing back.

    For other girls, this might be difficult, but for Jete-who''d once attended finishing school with the city''s elite-this was child''s y.

    Winning men over was her specialty.

    The Iversons, then Theo-one after another, she''d had them wrapped around her finger. She supposed she had a certain talent for it.

    Now, working as a hostess in a club like this, she''d suffered plenty and the humiliation was real. But knowing the ce was crawling with wealthy men, her motivation red anew.

    Meanwhile, Citrine had no idea that this arrangement wouldn''t snuff out Jete''s hope; if anything, it only fueled her ambition to climb higher and attach herself to someone with real power.

    At first, Jete just sold drinks, but it didn''t take long for her to realize themission barely covered a decent handbag.

    One night, as she was heading out after her shift, she ran into a coworker in the hallway.

    The woman was draped over a man''s shoulders, practically throwing herself at him.

    The guy was clearly caught up in the moment, but Jete''s colleague kept her wits about her.

    "Ms. Taylor, Fiona''s taken such good care of you. Maybe you should consider taking Fiona home with you?" she purred.

    Ms. Taylor was too busy groping her steak dinner to give Fiona a real answer.

    Seeing this, Fiona''s expression

    turned serious. She raised her voice, "Ms. Taylor, I''ve worked here for years, and you know you''re the only client see. Every time youe, it''s always me. Since you like meso much, why not take me out of here? I know you can do it. I promise, once I''m out, I won''t bother your wife. I''d be happy to be your secret-I''ll let you keep me hidden away."

    Ms. Taylor barely reacted, but at thatst line her eyes flickered.

    She considered for a moment, then tapped Fiona on the nose. "Alright, whatever my darling wants."

    Then, almost as an afterthought, she warned, "But you''d better not let my

    can''t protect you."

    sout. If she does, even

    Fiona beamed. "Don''t worry, Ms. Taylor. As long as I''m with you, I''m happy."

    Jete had lingered outside the private room, watching all of this unfold before finally tearing her eyes away.

    She scoffed under her breath, "Pathetic. That''s the best she can do? Starving for scraps."

    To be someone''s mistress-how could anyone settle for so little? Jete would never stoop that low.

    But overhearing their exchange, an.

    idea began to take shape. If

    e

    d herself a real pro

    she could leave this ce

    too.

    And the more she thought about it, the more determined she became.

    But as it turned out, finding a wealthy benefactor who actually met her standards

    was much harder than she''d imagined.

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 705

    It was always the same either some bloated, greasy middle-aged man or a

    lecherous old creep. The few wealthy clients who were actually good-looking and fit all had walls up so high, Jete couldn''t get within a mile of them.

    Lately, when she was selling drinks at the club, Jete let the bosses get handsy, even going so far as to cozy up to them if it meant a bigger tip. Everything she did was calcted-every smile, every touch, everyte night¡ªjust to pocket

    a little extra cash so she could invest in herself and w her way out.

    A few dayster, Jete found herself crouched in a bathroom stall, eavesdropping on her manager''s phone call in the next stall over.

    "You mean Mr. Gorman?" the manager''s voice was tight, respectful. "Mr. Gorman ising tomorrow? Don''t worry, I''ll make sure he''s well taken care of."

    The way the manager spoke about this Mr. Gorman-deference threading every word-Jete made a mental note. That name could mean opportunity.

    That night, the club was scrubbed spotless from top to bottom, and the manager gathered the entire staff. "We''re receiving a distinguished guest tonight," he announced, voice grave. Jete listened, but her mind was already racing with possibilities.

    In May, Carlotta called Citrine.

    "Citrine, someone paid Jete''s penalty fee and took her away from Neon Hive."

    Citrine was still tangled in her sheets, brain foggy, until Carlotta''s words sharpened her focus. She sat up, face cooling.

    "What happened?" she asked, voice t.

    "Apparently Jete''s hooked up with a Mr. Gorman. He''s no ordinary man. Didn''t take long before he took her home."

    Citrine''s eyes grew cold. "Did you find out who this Mr. Gorman is?"

    "No," Carlotta admitted, "I couldn''t dig up anything on him except hisst name-Gorman. He just returned from abroad, and year''s ago, he was close friends with the CEO of Steris Group."

    That was all Citrine needed to hear. If Carlotta couldn''t find anything, the man''s background must be formidable.

    "Forget Jete for now," Citrine said after a pause. ¡°Let her have her fun. She won''t escape my grasp in the end."

    She almostughed. Jete-the ultimate survivor-would do anything, say anything, to get what she wanted.

    Meanwhile, in the Crestwood luxury estates, Jete was back to her old, dazzling self. Every inch of her was dressed in custom designer-her outfit alone worth a fortune. Living in the vi these past days, she''d slipped right back into the pampered life of a socialite.

    But something about Mr. Gorman puzzled her. He''d rescued her, brought her home, but never onceid a finger on her. No matter how hard she tried to catch his eye, she got nowhere.

    Just before noon, Gorman Saunders strolled down the staircase, unhurried.

    Jete heard his footsteps and turned, her eyes lighting up as soon as he appeared. "Good morning, Mr. Gorman." She shed him a perfect, charming smile.

    He barely nced at her. "Morning. You''re up early."

    His tone was neutral, but for him, it was almost friendly.

    Jete couldn''t read him at all. Treading carefully, she said, "Mr. Gorman, I wasn''t sure what you liked, so I made a few things for breakfast."

    Gorman nced at the table, frowned. "There are maids here. You don''t need to cook. If you want something, just tell them."

    Jete''s finishing school training kicked in. Faced with a man as aloof as Mr. Gorman, the best tactic was to look vulnerable, innocent-a delicate flower in need of protection.

 Chapter 706

    Jete put on a look of gratefulness, her eyes brimming with tears that

    threatened to spill over. Her voice trembled as she spoke. ¡°Mr. Gorman, I can''t thank you enough for getting me out of there. I have nothing left now. This is all I can do."

    Seeing how nervous she was, Gorman finally relented and took a seat at the dining table.

    He picked up a small dinner roll, took a bite, and nodded. "Not bad. Tastes good."

    Then he gestured for her to sit down as well. "Come on, eat with me."

    Jete''s heart leapt. She quickly took the seat across from him.

    As they ate, Gorman finally remembered to ask, "You''re about the age most people are heading off to college. How did you end up in the Neon Hive?"

    Jete''s eyes flickered with bitterness. "My family went bankrupt. My father''s in prison, my mother left the country-I was all alone,pletely broke. I tried to find a job, but ended up getting tricked and dragged into the Neon Hive."

    Gorman nced at her, suddenly thinking of his own younger sister. If she hadn''t disappeared, she''d be about Jete''s age now. He pressed his lips together. "Don''t worry. I''ll find whoever did this to you."

    Jete stared at him in surprise. She hadn''t expected him to go that far for her -it caught her off guard.

    "Mr. Gorman, can I ask why you''re helping me like this?"

    He didn''t even like her. So what did he want out of all this?

    Gorman paused, silent for a long while. He absently rolled the prayer beads around his wrist before answering in a low voice, "Just lending a hand, that''s all." Jete noticed the darkness in his eyes and decided not to press any further. Mr. Gorman was cold by nature and rarely spoke much. Whenever he fixed his deep, unfathomable gaze on her, she couldn''t help but feel uneasy.

    She always felt as if he was looking through her, seeing someone else.

    Maybe he was using her as a stand-in.

    After all, the heirs from Crestwood

    were known to y around, and ite wasn''t unheard of for them to keep girls around as substitutes for someone they''d lost.

    Jete quietly tucked the thought away.

    But she didn''t mind. If she could marry into high society, she didn''t care what role she yed.

    Testing the waters, she asked, "Mr. Gorman, will you always treat me this kindly?"

    Gorman didn''t answer right away. Nearly two minutes passed before he finally spoke.

    "I''ll make sure you''re taken care of. You''ll have nothing to worry about from now on."

    The light in Jete''s eyes slowly faded.

    "Thank you, Mr. Gorman." She could tell he had no intention of keeping her around for long, but she smiled anyway.

    Gorman was always efficient. The very next day, he had people investigate exactly how Jete ended up in the Neon Hive.

    It didn''t take long before the trail led

    to CICI Group''s chaman. became clear.

    Everything became

    A short whileter, someone reported Citrine''s situation to Gorman.

    Hearing the details, Gorman''s brow furrowed. "That Citrine Carmichael-young as

    she is, she''s got quite the ruthless streak."

    On the other end, someone tried to

    dissuade him. "Maybe just let it go. We''ve only just returned to the country. Getting tangled up with CICI Group right now might not be the best idea."

    Gorman shook his head. "No. There''s no way I''m letting this slide."

 Chapter 707

    The next day, Gorman took Jete shopping at the mall and treated her to a new wardrobe along with a collection of sparkling jewelry.

    Lifetely had felt almost too good to be true. Gorman''s unwavering indulgence had swept her off her feet, and Jete found herself rediscovering a sense of pride and self-worth she thought she''d lost.

    Perhaps sensing how much Gorman doted on her, Jete grew bolder. She started asking for things¡ªa car, a designer bag, another ne¡ªand without fail, Gorman granted every wish.

    Jete was practically beaming, her happiness radiating as she suddenly remembered Aline. She turned to Gorman and said, "Mr. Gorman, there''s one more thing I''d like your help with."

    Gorman''s brow creased, suspecting she had her eye on yet another handbag or piece of jewelry.

    "If there''s something you want, just let the house manager know. He''ll take care of it. No need toe to me about these things," he replied, his gaze clouding over for a moment. Though he kept his expression neutral, there was a flicker of difort-Jete''s requests for gifts had begun to feel transactional. Still, he agreed. After all, to him, her wishes were nothing more than a matter of money.

    And money was something he had in abundance.

    Was this man starting to see her as a gold-digger?

    The thought struck Jete like a p. Color drained from her face and she rushed to exin, terrified of falling from his favor. "No, Mr. Gorman, that''s not what I meant. It''s not about that, really."

    Desperate to salvage her image in his eyes, she repeated, "It''s not about the gifts."

    Gorman''s expression didn''t change. "Then what is it? Tell me."

    Jete pressed her lips together, gathering her courage. "It''s about my mother. Ever since she went abroad, we''ve lost touch. I just want to know where she is. I''m worried about her. Could you help me find her?"

    At the mention of her mother, Gorman''s eyes grew darker.

    "All right. I''ll look into it as soon as possible," he promised without hesitation.

    That evening, Gorman''s investigators came back with news.

    "Mr. Gorman, I''ve sent everything to your email. Just a heads up-Jete''s reputation online isn''t exactly ttering."

    "Understood," he replied, ending the call.

    He opened his inbox and saw thetest email waiting for him.

    Inside was a full dossier on Jete-and, to his surprise, on Citrine Carmichael as well.

    Gorman read through the information, his expression growing stormy.

    The email revealed that Citrine Carmichael was the daughter of Hilda, matriarch of the Saunders family.

    The revtion nearly made Gormanugh out loud in disbelief.

    The Saunders family had been searching for Hilda''s daughter for years. Time and again, girls who''d seen the missing person notices showed up at the Saunders estate, but every single one had turned out to be a fraud.

    Gorman was certain-this Citrine Carmichael was just another imposter.

    After all these years of fruitless searching, it was simply too convenient for the real daughter to suddenly materialize. Something was off.

    With someone as calcting as Citrine, deceiving the Saunders family wouldn''t be difficult for her.

    Jete''s whole family, meanwhile, was infamous on the inte, but none of them had ended up

    well-some were in prison, other et

    had fled overseas. Jete was the only one left, and even then, she''d been tricked into joining Neon Hive, where she became an easy target for abuse.

    When Gorman first saw Jete, she''d been beaten within an inch of her life. She looked nothing like a viin-more like a victim.

    But Citrine Carmichael? She fit the perpetrator''s mold far more closely-not to mention, she was clearly a fraud.

    The next day, overseas, The G Group terminated its partnership with Citrine.

    The G Group wasn''t just closely tied to CICI Group; it was also one of CICI''s biggest clients.

    As soon as she heard the news, Citrine hired a private investigation firm to dig into the matter. The investigation quickly turned up the truth: the order hade from the president of The G Group himself-Gorman. He''d recently returned to the country, and not long ago, he''d rescued a woman named Jete from Neon Hive.

 Chapter 708

    Now Citrine had no doubts-Jete was clearly involved in this mess.

    But what baffled Citrine was that her own investigation had shown Gorman wasn''t the type to get entangled with women. He was all business, a textbook corporate shark who always put hispany''s interests first.

    CICI Group was a powerhouse, the ideal partner for The G Group. Why would Gorman throw away a long and profitable partnership just because of Jete? What was he really after?

    After weighing her options, Citrine decided she had to visit Gorman''s home in person.

    The deal was worth a billion dors-no one could shrug off a loss like that. Even if she could barely stand Jete, Citrine wasn''t about to let a grudge cost her that much. She''d swallow her pride, just this once.

    A few minutester, Citrine and Carlotta arrived at Gorman''s house, contracts in hand.

    They rang the doorbell and waited. Eventually, a housekeeper answered.

    Carlotta offered a polite smile. ¡°Good morning. We''re from CICI Group. We''d like to see Mr. Gorman."

    The housekeeper''s eyes flickered with recognition and a hint of apology. "I''m sorry, sir is out at the moment. He should be back this afternoon. If you don''t mind waiting, pleasee in."

    Citrine and Carlotta exchanged a nce and agreed.

    Inside, the housekeeper showed them to the living room and served them tea, treating them with the utmost courtesy.

    Gorman had always valued business rtionships, even when he was abroad. Anyoneing to his home for business was greeted with the highest standard of hospitality.

    Momentster, Jete walked in, arms full of shopping bags. She stopped short when she saw Citrine and Carlotta sitting on the sofa.

    "Citrine Carmichael, what are you doing here?" Jete''s voice was sharp, her mood clearly unsettled.

    Citrine barely raised her eyelids, refusing to even acknowledge Jete''s presence.

    Being ignored made Jete''s temper re. She whirled on the housekeeper. "What''s going on? Who let them in?"

    The housekeeper remained respectful. "Ms. Iverson, thesedies are from CICI Group. They''re here to discuss business with Mr. Gorman. I invited them to wait here."

    Business.

    Jete nced at Citrine and Carlotta. If they''de themselves, they must really need something-this deal must be crucial for them.

    Jete couldn''t suppress a suddenugh.

    What a wonderful day. Citrine Carmichael, you never imagined you''d end up like this, did you? So what if you''re the president of CICI Group? Even you have toe crawling for help.

    She shot the housekeeper a disdainful look. "Since Mr. Gorman isn''t home, you really shouldn''t just let in random strays off the street. This is a brand-new sofa he §Ö bought-imagine how disgusting it''ll be if these two get it dirty

    The housekeeper hesitated, obviously ufortable. "Ms. Iverson, when Mr. Gorman lived when

    abroad, he always insisted on

    treating all business guests wife

    the

    highest respect. Please, let''s keep things professional."

    Jete''s eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you lecturing me? You''re just the help¡ª

    do you want to lose your job?"

    The housekeeper quickly lowered her gaze. "I''m sorry, ma''am. I''m only following Mr. Gorman''s instructions."

    "Still talking back? Do you want me to tell Mr. Gorman to fire you?" Jete, humiliated,shed out without thinking and pped the housekeeper hard across the face.

    She let out a cold snort. "You''ve all seen how Mr. Gorman treats me. In this house, my word is as good as his. Disobey me and you''ll all be out on the street."

    With that, Jete crossed her arms and strutted over to Citrine, dripping with scorn. "Well, well, Citrine Carmichael-looks like even you have a day when you have to beg."

 Chapter 709

    With a smug smile, Jete said, "If you get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness right now, maybe I''ll even put in a good word for you with Mr.

    Gorman."

    Citrine didn''t react, but Carlotta, who had been sitting quietly on the couch, shot to her feet, livid.

    She jabbed a finger at Jete and snapped, "Who do you think you are? You''re nothing but Mr. Gorman''s little ything, acting like you actually matter around here."

    Jete scoffed. "And you''re just Citrine''spdog, barking at anyone whoes close."

    She didn''t get to finish. A sharp pnded squarely across her face.

    No one had noticed Citrine stand up, but there she was, calmly flexing her hand

    as she spoke in a low, unhurried voice. "Open that mouth again, and I''ll make sure you regret it."

    Jete pped a hand to her stinging cheek, her expression stunned and disbelieving.

    She shrieked at Citrine, "How dare you hit me! I belong to Mr. Gorman now-he''ll make you pay for this!"

    She was furious.

    It might have been different before, but now she was under Mr. Gorman''s protection. She''d heard all about his reputation-he was the founder of the G Group overseas, with morepanies than she could count and more money than he could ever spend.

    Citrine arched an eyebrow, her voice icy. "Then go ahead and call him. I''d love to see what he ns to do to me."

    Any man who''d take a woman like that under his wing couldn''t be much himself, she thought, and her opinion of Mr. Gorman plummeted on the spot.

    She turned to Carlotta. "Let''s go."

    The two of them left the Gorman estate without looking back.

    Once they were outside, Carlotta hesitated before asking, "Madam, we''re really leaving? When are weing back?"

    Citrine nced over her shoulder at her. "We''re not."

    "What?" Carlotta was caught off guard.

    Citrine''s tone was cold. "Mr. Gorman eye for people. He''s not a

    has

    good

    falls

    partner. If the deal

    through, so be it."

    Carlotta eyed Citrine, then stammered, "But... what about the billion-dor contract?"

    Citrine let out a softugh. "Let it go."

    She went on, her tone matter-of-fact. "Here''s what realized. First, even if we managed to close the deal today, I wouldn''t trust the G Group. anymore-with Jete whispering nonsense in his ear, who knows what trouble she''ll stir up. Second, sure, G Group is a great partner for us. But for them, we''re the best partner they could have. Frankly, they need us more than we need them."

    When Citrine finished, Carlotta''s eyes lit up. "Madam, you really do think of everything."

    It wasn''t long after Citrine and Carlotta left that Gorman returned home.

    He found Jete sobbing on the living room sofa.

    Gorman frowned. "What''s happened? Who upset you?"

    Jete just kept crying, unable to stop.

    He turned to the housekeeper. "Well? What on earth happened here?"

    Heads lowered, the staff recounted the events of the afternoon-just as Jete had instructed.

    Gorman''s face darkened with every word.

    Someone had dared to treat Jete like this, and right in his own home.

    He gently tried tofort her. "Don''t worry. I''ll make sure you get justice for this."

    The next day, Gorman personally paid a visit to CICI Group.

    When Citrine heard he''d arrived, she

    barely

    Scted. She simply sent

    to show him to the guest

    lounge.

    It was some time before she appeared, wearing a surgical mask.

    Gorman had been sipping his tea, waiting patiently, until the masked young woman walked into the room.

 Chapter 710

    He nced at the girl wearing a surgical mask and asked, "When will your chairman be arriving?"

    Citrine didn''t answer right away. Instead, she walked over, took a seat across from him, and introduced herself. "Mr. Gorman, it''s nice to meet you. I''m Citrine Carmichael."

    She''d caught a coldst night after getting chilled and, not wanting to infect anyone, had no choice but to show up with a mask covering her face.

    "You''re Citrine Carmichael?" Gorman sounded genuinely surprised.

    "Yes," she replied with a slight nod, her voice hoarse.

    She looked Gorman in the eye. "So, are you here today to discuss business, Mr. Gorman, or is this about Jete?"

    Gorman''s expression remained icy, his demeanor less than friendly. Citrine guessed, with little doubt, that this was about Jete.

    Sure enough, he didn''t hesitate. "I heard President Carmichael showed up at my house yesterday and bullied someone." His tone was sharp, every word edged in usation.

    "So Jete ran straight to you toin, huh?" Citrine wasn''t surprised. If there was one thing Jete excelled at, it was twisting the truth to suit herself.

    Gorman''s face didn''t change, but his voice grew firmer, more insistent. "President Carmichael, you went after someone under my protection. Don''t you think you owe me an exnation?"

    "An exnation? And what kind of exnation did you have in mind?" To this moment, Citrine still couldn''t quite figure out what Gorman was really after.

    Gorman paused, weighing his words, then said, "An apology. Andpensation -ten million dors for Jete."

    "One p, ten million dors? Why don''t you just go rob a bank?" Citrine almostughed in disbelief, wondering if she''d heard him right.

    Dream on. He wanted money? He''d have to rip it straight out of her heart first.

    But Gorman had no intention of backing down. His gaze was cold and unyielding, the threat clear in his eyes. "President Carmichael, not just anyone gets to cross my people and walk away. Since you made a move, you''ll have to pay the price."

    Citrine let out a derisiveugh. "And what if I refuse?"

    Gorman''s lips curled into a frosty smile. "Then you deal with the consequences.¡±

    With that, he stood up, fixing her

    with a serious stare. "I hear your CICI Group and Viridis Medical Institute

    both have significant operations abroad Let''s not even mention the rest, but both of them have partnerships with us-the G Group. And as far as I know, all your factories use our facilities, don''t they?"

    The threat was unmistakable, woven through every word.

    Citrine''s expression darkened, bit by bit.

    No one had ever threatened her like this before. If there was one thing Citrine despised, it was being threatened.

    She sat in silence for a moment, then shot back, "Mr. Gorman, are you really so sure that CICI Group and Viridis Medical Institute can''t survive without G Group?" Her voice was ice cold.

    Gorman''s lips twitched in a hint of a smile as he spread his hands. "I

    couldn''t say. All I know is that G

    Group''s facilities are the finest in the

    entire Federated States of

    Magnolia."

    With that, Gorman rose from the couch and headed for the door.

    At the threshold, something seemed to ur to him. He turned back, meeting Citrine''s gaze.

    She watched him, waiting.

    "President Carmichael, you really are something," he said, voice tinged with irony. "Even the Saunders have fallen for your tricks."

    With those words, Gorman left.

    Citrine sat for a while, mulling it over, but couldn''t quite make sense of what he''d meant by thatst remark.

 Chapter 711

    After returning from the CICI Group, Gorman instructed The G Group to suspend operations at both the CICI Group''s and Viridis Medical Institute''s production

    facilities.

    For a while, Magnolia''s CICI Group and Viridis Medical Institute found themselves in dire straits.

    It took Citrine a full week topletely resolve the factory issue, but the conflict with The G Group was now set in stone.

    Gorman''s influence overseas was considerable; for him, uncovering the truth behind an incident was never difficult.

    Aline''s situation was rified within just a few days.

    Over dinner, Gorman wrestled with himself before finally deciding to tell Jete what he''d learned.

    "I''ve already had people look into your mother''s situation," he said quietly, voice heavy with reluctance. "You should brace yourself."

    Jete''s face tightened with anxiety as she looked at him. "What happened? Is my mom in trouble?"

    Gorman spoke slowly, each word weighed: "ording to my sources, as soon as your mother arrived in Magnolia, she was taken away by a group of suspicious individuals. We believe they''re connected to Mirage Cay." As he finished, his expression darkened.

    He knew all too well what kind of ce Mirage Cay was. Anyone sent there was as good as gone-if they survived, they''d be lucky to leave with their sanity intact.

    The ind''s location was a closely guarded secret. Finding it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

    "Mirage Cay," Jete repeated through clenched teeth.

    She turned to Gorman, eyes zing. "It''s Citrine Carmichael. She''s behind this-I know it."

    Tears streamed down her face, her voice shaking. ¡°Mr. Gorman, Citrine Carmichael ruined my life. She destroyed my father, and now she''s after my mother, too."

    Jete sobbed uncontrobly. Gorman was at a loss, unsure how tofort her.

    Suddenly, Jete copsed to her

    knees in front of him. "Mr. Gorman, please help me. I have nothing

    left-nowhere to go. Please, I''m begging you, have some

    Gorman''s expression changed; he immediately reached down and helped her to her feet. He couldn''t deny that, in that moment, he felt genuine sympathy for her.

    "How do you want me to help you?" he asked.

    Jete dropped her gaze, her eyes darting as she considered her words. "Let me stay with you. Please."

    She looked up at him, searching his face.

    Afraid he might refuse, she quickly added, "I have nothing-no one. You''re the only person I can rely on. With you, I finally feel safe."

    Gorman stared at the floor, silent. Just yesterday, he''d arranged for a new apartment for her. In fact, she was supposed to move out today.

    Jete seemed to sense his hesitation. "I''m sorry. I shouldn''t have asked for more. You''ve already helped me so much-anything else would be taking advantage. Don''t worry, Mr. Gorman. I''ll move out tonight. I promise, I won''t be a burden."

    She tried to lookposed, but her eyes betrayed her hopelessness.

    Gorman suddenly thought of his own younger sister.

    He hadn''t seen her in years-didn''t even know where she was, or how she was living. Was someone there to stand up for her? Or was she, too, lost and alone?

    In the end, he relented and allowed Jete to stay in his home.

    He''d let her recover for now; maybe, once he''d tracked down Mirage Cay and rescued her mother, she could finally move on.

    A few dayster, Mr. Herschel''s birthday arrived. As usual, the Saunders family nned an extravagant celebration, inviting everyone who mattered in Crestwood.

    Hilda pulled Citrine aside beforehand. "Citrine, you''ll be meeting another brother tonight-your eldest. He''s just returned from overseas."

    Inez chimed in with a fond smile, "Citrine, you probably don''t

    remember, but when you were little, you refused to let anyone hold you-except your oldest brother. You''d only stop crying when he picked you up. After you were born, whenever your mom needed a break, he''d be the one to take care of you. He''s always been cold and distant with everyone else, but never with you. When you went missing, he was devastated. That''s why he left the country in the first ce."

 Chapter 712

    Even though she''d never actually met her eldest brother, just hearing Inez talk about him, Citrine could feel how much he doted on her.

    He must be a wonderful brother.

    A small spark of anticipation flickered inside her-she found herself wanting to meet him.

    Everyone seemed excited about the news, everyone except Monica and Wade.

    Gorman was Monica''s biological brother, but they were only half-siblings, and their rtionship had never been particrly close. Gorman rarely showed much warmth; his perpetual sternness had always made Monica a little uneasy around him.

    In fact, Monica felt much closer to Wade, her uncle''s son, than she ever did to her own brother.

    As for Wade, he and Gorman couldn''t be more different. While Gorman was a prodigy from a young age-exceptional at everything and hailed as a genius- Wade was always goofing off, chasing after stray cats and dogs, never taking anything seriously. The contrast between them was stark; Gorman barely acknowledged Wade''s existence, as if even looking at him might somehow sully his own eyes.

    Naturally, Wade despised Gorman right back-he hated his holier-than-thou attitude and arrogance, and growing up, Wade had pulled more than a few pranks on him, both openly and behind his back.

    But right now, Wade couldn''t care less about any of that. At this moment, his only concern was that Gorman woulde back and try to steal his sister''s affection.

    Gorman had always been annoyingly proper, but he''d had a soft spot for Citrine ever since she was little. Whenever Wade tried to get close to her as a kid, that jerk would swoop in, scoop her up, and carry her away, leaving Wade-smaller and powerless-no choice but to watch his big brother monopolize his little sister. Pulling Citrine aside, Wade whispered urgently, "Listen, you''ve got to promise me ¡ªwhen you see our big brother, you can''t just forget about me, okay? You have to share the love."

    Share the love?

    Citrine''s lips parted in surprise, and before she could respond, Monica jumped in. "He''s right, Citrine-you have to promise us."

    Just as Monica finished, a thought struck her, and she added, "But Citrine, you should know, our brother has grown colder over the years. No matter what happens, just be careful when you meet him, okay?

    Wade nodded earnestly. "Monica''s right. He''s changed a lot these past years. Honestly, he gives me the creeps now-I can''t even meet his eyes anymore."

    After all these years, and having never met her brother before, it was only natural

    that Citrine trusted Monica and Wade more than anyone else.

    She looked at them both and said sincerely, "Don''t worry. I''ll be careful."

    By now, more guests were arriving, invitations in hand.

    After congratting Herschel and

    presenti

    their gifts, the guests scattered-some found seats, while others, restless, wandered off to the garden or out onto the terrace.

    Citrine was standing on the terrace, gazing out at the view. She had to admit, the hotel''s scenery was breathtaking. From here, she could see the most beautiful stretch of Crestwood Lake, the water glowing under the setting sun. It was impossible to tear her eyes away.

    She was lost in the moment, when suddenly she overheard a conversation nearby.

    Two people were chatting, and she caught mention of the Saunders family''s eldest son.

    "You haven''t heard, have you? The eldest son of the Saunders family is back in town. He''sing tonight for Herschel''s birthday."

 Chapter 713

    The eldest son of the Saunders family is truly something else-back in the day, he was every bit as brilliant as Hilda, the current head of the family.

    "I heard he started his ownpany overseas. It''s called The G Group, and word is, they''re doing incredibly well-assets in the billions."

    "So why would he suddenlye back now?"

    "Maybe it''s about C. Corp?"

    "Didn''t Hilda announce recently that Citrine would be her sole heir, and that she''d pass the entire Saunders estate to her? Do you think Gorman came back because of that?"

    "It makes sense. The Saunders fortune is no small thing, and Gorman''s the only one in the family with a real head for business. He''s got just as much right to fight for the inheritance as anyone."

    ...

    As the group gossiped, Hilda happened to walk by. She caught every word.

    She nced at her daughter first, and seeing that there was no trace of emotion on Citrine''s face, Hilda turned her gaze to the group that had been talking.

    With a cool expression, she called them over and said firmly, "I believe I made myself clearst time-the Saunders heir is Citrine. There will be no discussion."

    By now, Hilda understood her daughter well.

    Citrine wasn''t just capable¡ªshe was ambitious. She dreamed of building an empire of her own.

    Hilda realized that for her daughter, nothing mattered more than holding power in her own hands.

    She could see it: Citrine wanted C. Corp.

    If Citrine didn''t care about inheriting, it wouldn''t matter to Hilda who took over thepany. But if her daughter wanted it, Hilda would fight tooth and nail to make sure she got it.

    It seemed she''d have to find time to sound Gorman out.

    After Hilda''s blunt deration, no one dared gossip any further. The whisperers melted away.

    Once they were gone, Citrine turned to her mother. "Mom, if you give C. Corp to me, do you think my brothers and sisters will mind?"

    She hesitated, then added, "And what about Monica? She works at thepany now. Is she okay with it?"

    Hilda smiled. "Neither Monica nor Wade have any objections. I told them about my decision from the very beginning."

    "As for your brother..."

    At the mention of Gorman, Hilda''s confidence wavered.

    "Your brother has always kept his distance from the family-cold, reserved. I honestly don''t know what he''s thinking."

    Before Citrine could say anything more, Hilda continued, "Citrine, I know you''re ambitious. Don''t worry As long as I''m here, not just C. Corp if you wanted an entire. conglomerate, I''d do everything I could to win it for you."

    Citrine wanted C. Corp, but if someone else in the family wanted it too, she had

    no desire to fight or cause strife at home.

    She didn''t need Hilda to go to battle for her, but hearing her mother''s words, she couldn''t help feeling touched.

    With a soft smile, she hugged Hilda. "You''re the best, Mom."

    The spontaneous embrace caught Hilda off guard. For a moment, she stood frozen, but then she quickly hugged her daughter back.

    Tears pricked her eyes as she patted Citrine''s back. "Silly girl, I''m y

    Of course I want to

    world to my precious da

    the

    The two of them shared a quiet moment before heading back to the main hall.

    Just then, Gorman arrived. He walked straight over to Herschel.

    "Happy birthday, Grandpa," he said, handing his gift to the attendant collecting presents.

    Herschel nodded at his grandson. "It''s good to have you home."

    He was about to say more, when his gazended on the person behind Gorman.

    Jete had d heard from Gorman that Herschel was his grandfather. She''d assumed Gorman and the

    Saunders family were old family

    friends After all, they didn''t even share the samest name¡ªshe never imagined there was more to the story.

 Chapter 714

    At that moment, Jete wore a look of smug satisfaction as she caught sight of Herschel.

    "Mr. Saunders, happy birthday," she said with a delicate smile, passing the gift Gorman had prepared for her to the attendant collecting presents.

    Just as the attendant reached to take it, Herschel''s temper suddenly snapped.

    "Who told you you coulde?" he barked, snatching the gift from Jete''s hands and hurling it to the floor.

    The ss decanter inside shattered instantly, scattering shards across the polished floor.

    Startled, Jete stumbled back several steps.

    Gorman''s expression darkened; he immediately stepped in front of Jete, shielding her with his body.

    He turned to her, his voice low and careful. "Are you alright? Did you get hurt?" Jete shook her head, eyes brimming with wounded innocence.

    Only after making sure she was unharmed did Gorman rx, though his face remained grim as he turned to Herschel, his tone defensive. "Grandfather, Jete is a friend of mine. She brought you a birthday gift out of kindness. How could you treat her like this?"

    Being publicly rebuked by his grandson at his own birthday banquet, Herschel''s face turned thunderous. His voice rose, echoing through the hall. "You insolent brat! This is my birthday celebration, not some gathering for every stray off the street. Get her out of here! If Citrine sees her, you''ll wish you''d never been born." Gorman stood his ground, arguing back, "Grandfather, Jete came here just to celebrate your birthday. She''s my guest-you can''t just throw her out."

    Jete, feigning vulnerability, piped up in a intive voice, "That''s right, Mr. Saunders. I came here just for your birthday. Even if you don''t like me, you can''t just kick me out, can you?"

    She had no intention of leaving. She''d worked too hard to cozy up to Gorman, and tonight she needed his status to put Citrine in her ce. Walking away now would be a total waste.

    Hmph, that old man was nothing. As long as Gorman was on her side, she had nothing to fear.

    Lately, Gorman had seen Jete act meek and fragile so often that he''d started to believe it was her true nature. Herschel, however, knew better-he saw right through her act.

    Tonight was his birthday, and he wasn''t about to indulge anyone.

    Without another word, Herschel pped Jete hard across the face. His voice was ice-cold. "Get out. This is my birthday. If you so much as upset my granddaughter, you''ll be sorry."

    The blow left Jete''s ears ringing. She turned her face away, dazed, unable to react for a long moment.

    Furious, Gorman put himself between Herschel and Jete, his voice ringing with outrage. ¡°Grandfather, you only hate Jete because of Citrine Carmichael, don''t you?"

    His words were bitterly cold. "You''re all getting more and more ridiculous. Anyone who walks through the door iming to be your sister, you just believethem? There haven''t been any feads for years, and suddenly you think you''ve found her? She''s a con artist, and you''re all being fooled."

    "Enough!" Herschel''s face twisted with rage as he delivered a stinging p to Gorman''s cheek.

    Blood trickled from the corner of Gorman''s mouth, but his eyes only grew colder.

    What he didn''t notice was the look of utter shock on Jete''s face behind him; she was so pale she forgot about the pain in her cheek. She stammered, "Mr. Gorman, but... isn''t yourst name Gorman Why are you suddenly a Saunders?"

    Gorman''s voice was hoarse. "Abroad, I use Mr. Gorman. Here at home, I''m Gorman Saunders."

    Jete''s expression went nk, a surge of dread washing over her.

    After all, this was Citrine''s brother. Would he really be on her side?

    Jete wasn''t so sure anymore.

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 715

    Herschel Saunders shot Gorman a furious re, his jaw clenched as if he were about tounch into another tirade-until his eyesnded on Hilda and her son, standing quietly behind Gorman.

    "Citrine." Herschel''s anger faltered, worry flickering across his face.

    He rounded on Gorman, voice booming with outrage. "If you won''t let her leave, then don''t bother showing up at my birthday dinner. Take that woman and get out -both of you!"

    Without waiting for a response, Herschel strode over to his beloved granddaughter and promised in a tone brimming with grandfatherly pride, "Don''t worry, Citrine. Today''s my birthday, and I won''t let anyone ruin it for you."

    He shot a withering look at both Gorman and Jete Iverson, then turned back to Citrine, his features instantly softening. The anger melted away, reced by a tenderness rarely seen in the old man.

    "I''ve told that fool to take his poisonouspanion and leave. I won''t let them upset you, sweetheart."

    Gorman had always been the golden child-the model son who excelled at everything, from school to work. The Saunders family had never once uttered a harsh word against him.

    But today, Herschel had crossed a line and raised his hand to him.

    Gorman''s face was ashen with humiliation and disbelief. He whirled back to Herschel, his voice cracking. "Granddad, we looked for my sister for years! There''s no way this Citrine Carmichael could actually be¡ª"

    He broke off mid-sentence, his gaze catching on a pair of cool, clear eyes.

    They''d met not long ago, though at the time she''d been masked, recovering from a cold. But those eyes-Gorman remembered them vividly, always carrying a hint of distance, a chill that kept people at arm''s length.

    He stared at Citrine, eyes widening in shock. "You... you''re Citrine Carmichael?"

    Gorman couldn''t tear his gaze away. The resemnce was uncanny-her features were nearly a mirror image of their aunt''s when she was young.

    Citrine''s eyes flickered with disappointment as she met his stare. She shouldn''t have let herself hope for more from her oldest brother.

    She regarded him with calm indifference, offering no reply.

    Gorman''s focus narrowed to Citrine, hisposure slipping. "Are you really...

    Citrine?" His voice trembled with emotion.

    Citrine held his gaze, silent and unmoved.

    Worried that Gorman might upset his granddaughter, Herschel grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back. "You idiot. The DNA test doesn''t lie. If you scare your sister, I swear I''ll break your legs." His warning was sharp, brooking no argument.

    Truthfully, the moment Gorman saw Citrine''s face, all doubt had vanished. But excitement and disbelief-made him reckless.

    He edged closer, voice bubbling with relief. "Citrine, I''m your big brother! When you were little, you always loved me best. Anyone else tried to hold you and you''d cry, but when I picked you up, you always smiled¡ª¡±

    Gormanunched into a stream of childhood memories, his words tumbling out in a rush.

    Citrine frowned, cutting him off coldly. "I don''t remember any of that. I was too young to have memories then."

    Her tone was icy, her eyes unreadable.

    Her indifference hit Gorman like a bucket of ice water. He''d never imagined that after all these years, his long-lost sister would look at him with such contempt.

    ¡°Citrine¡ª¡± He started to protest, but then hesitated, remembering his own actions: severing the familypany''s ties with hers, the cruel words he''d spoken in Jete''s defense, even halting overseas contracts with Citrine''s business.

    Guilt settled in, heavy and inescapable.

 Chapter 716

    Even though Citrine had managed to resolve every crisis he threw at her, each of Gorman''s schemes had been aimed at destroying herpany-pushing her

    right to the edge.

    Now, Gorman''s face was ghostly pale, consumed by regret.

    He''d finally found his long-lost sister, only to realize how terribly he''d treated her. The guilt was crushing. Citrine must hate him now-how could she not?

    Usually the epitome ofposure, Gorman was now as lost as a child. He hung his head and apologized over and over. "I''m sorry, Citrine. I... I didn''t know it was you. All these years, the Saunders family searched everywhere, but we couldn''t find you. When you appeared, I thought you were just another imposter. I couldn''t let myself believe you were really back."

    He rushed to exin about Jete as well. "When I saw Jete getting attacked outside Neon Hive, I just felt sorry for her. It made me think of you, that''s all. It wasn''t anything else. You''re about the same age, and I was scared that if I ignored her, my own sister might be helpless and alone somewhere too. Citrine, I never meant for any of this to happen. I was wrong. I''m so sorry."

    Jete hadn''t expected things to unravel like this, nor had she ever imagined Gorman saved her because of Citrine. The realization made her heart sink.

    Gorman didn''t spare Jete so much as a nce. He kept his eyes fixed on Citrine, unblinking, desperate for a sign of forgiveness.

    Citrine shifted ufortably under his gaze, her expression as icy as ever. She met his apology with a steady, unwavering voice. "I don''t forgive you."

    She admitted to herself that Gorman''s exnation had moved her, but she simply couldn''t let go of the resentment. Not yet.

    Gorman''s face went even paler at her words, a shadow passing over his features. Disappointment settled over him like a shroud.

    No one in the Saunders family rushed to defend him.

    Herschel let out a cold snort. "Serves you right. You made this mess-deal with it yourself."

    Monica and Wade Saunders exchanged smug nces, clearly satisfied by Gorman''s disgrace; after all, with him out of the picture, Citrine would be all theirs.

    Citrine cast Gorman onest nce before turning her attention to Jete. Her voice was firm, her finger pointed inmand. "Send her back where she came from. If you won''t do it, I have no problem handling it myself."

    Before Gorman could answer, Jete broke down, her eyes red and pleading. "Mr. Gorman, please! For all the breakfasts I made you these past few days-

    please, save me! If I go back there, I''ll die!"

    To her, that ce was hell: stripped of dignity, treated like an object, tormented at every turn. These past few days had been a taste of paradise-living like someone who mattered. She could never go back to that nightmare.

    Gorman didn''t even look her way; his face was cold and resolute as he locked eyes with Citrine. "Don''t worry, Citrine. I swear, I''ll send her back."

    He didn''t hesitate for even a second.

    Citrine said nothing more. She walked over and came to a stop right in front of Jete.

    Leaning in, her voice softened to a mockingly gentle whisper. "Congrattions, Jete. You''ve just been cast out of paradise and back into hell."

    She reached out to brush a strand of hair from Jete''s face, her smile as sharp as a de. "Starting today, every day of your life will be a nightmare. Enjoy it while you can."

    Jete''s face drained of color, her

    whole body trembling. She red at

    Citrine and spat out between

    clenched teeth, "You''re a monster,

    Citrine! You shouldn''t even be alive.

    You should''ve died overseas!"

    Pushed past her breaking point, Jete suddenly snatched a fruit knife from the

    table and lunged at Citrine, her scream ripping through the room.

    "Go to hell! I''ll kill you!"

    Her face was twisted with rage, her shriek ringing out as she attacked.

 Chapter 717

    The fruit knife was just inches from Citrine''s body when she instinctively raised her arm to block it. But before she could react, arge, strong hand reached out and grabbed the de.

    Gorman gripped the knife as if he couldn''t feel the pain, his fingers clenched tightly around the sharp edge.

    Blood dripped steadily to the floor, dark and vivid. Jete''s face went sheet- white; her whole body trembled in terror. Her grip ckened, and the knife ttered from her hand onto the tiles.

    Gasps and screams rippled through the guests as panic set in.

    Gorman''s blood kept running down his hand, but not a single sound escaped his lips.

    Citrine nced at his wounded palm, her expression darkening.

    The cut was deep. If they didn''t treat it soon, his hand might never function the same way again.

    She turned urgently to Monica. "Monica, please find me a first aid kit!"

    Monica had already seen how badly Gorman was hurt. "I¡ªI''ll go now!" she stammered, hurrying away.

    Hilda felt a cold wave of terror wash over her. She couldn''t bear to imagine what might have happened if that knife had found her daughter''s heart.

    Now, as she looked at Jete, her eyes were zing with fury and resentment. Striding over, Hilda pped Jete hard across the face.

    "You spiteful witch," she spat.

    The Saunders family red at Jete with open hatred, as if they wished she''d disappear for good.

    Citrine saw Gorman''s blood still pouring from his palm. Without hesitation, she tore a strip of fabric from her dress.

    She grabbed Gorman''s hand firmly, not giving him a chance to protest.

    He stared at her, momentarily speechless.

    Citrine didn''t need his words. She took a clean tissue and wiped away the blood, then quickly bandaged his hand with the fabric.

    Gorman realized she was trying to stop the bleeding. A quiet warmth spread in his chest.

    "Thank you, Citrine," he murmured.

    She didn''t respond, simply finished tying the makeshift bandage and turned toward Jete.

    "Citrine, don''t¡ª¡± Hilda called out, worried Jete mightsh out again.

    Citrine shot her mother a reassuring look. "It''s okay, Mom."

    She turned back, fixing Jete with a steely gaze.

    Jete''s hatred was written all over her face, but now, confronted with Citrine''s calm, she shrank back.

    ne Carmichael, what... what are you doing?"

    Before Jete could finish, Citrine pped her hard.

    "That''s for attacking someone," Citrine said coldly. "You deserve it."

    She nced at Wade. "Wade, call the police. She belongs in a cell."

    Wade looked positively invigorated by the order. ¡°dly. I''ll have her hauled off in no time."

    Hearing Citrine call Wade "brother," Gorman''s eyes lit up for a second But as he realized she wasn''t speaking to him, his expression fell, a bittersweet ache settling in his heart.

    All of Citrine''s attention was on Jete, her face unreadable as she watched the other woman''s humiliation. The satisfaction was in in her eyes.

    Jete''s face was a mask of misery. Though every instinct screamed against it, she dropped to her knees in front of Citrine, sobbing.

    "Citrine, I''m sorry! Please, don''t call the police. If you do, my life is over-I swear, I''ll never bother you again."

    For the first time, real fear had taken root in Jete''s heart. She was desperate, dignity forgotten, begging for mercy.

    Citrine looked down at her with icy detachment. "Your father''s already waiting for you in there. If I call the police, you''ll have a family reunion. It''s really for your own good."

    Jete shook her head, pleading, "No, please! Let me go. I''ll leave the country

    -right now. You''ll never see me again."

    Citrine leaned closer, gently tapping Jete''s cheek. "Too bad for you. I want you right where you belong-behind bars."

 Chapter 718

    Jete felt herself unravel, her heart sinking into cold despair.

    Citrine wasn''t the quiet, withdrawn girl who used to swallow every injustice in silence. The person standing here now was dangerous-unpredictable, even a little unhinged.

    Before long, Monica rushed in, clutching a first aid kit. "Citrine, I found it!"

    Citrine immediately strode over and popped the kit open, efficientlyying out antiseptic, bandages, and everything else she''d need.

    When she''d set it all out, she turned to Gorman, who was still standing there in a daze. Her voice was sharp with impatience. "Well? Are youing over or not?"

    "Me?" Gorman seemed momentarily at a loss.

    Citrine''s brow furrowed. ¡°Is there anyone else here who''s injured?"

    She honestly couldn''t understand how someone as shrewd as Gorman could be so clueless. She even wondered how he''d managed to turn the G Group into such a powerhouse on his own.

    Staring at his already-bandaged hand, Gorman blinked in surprise, then shuffled sheepishly toward Citrine, as if he couldn''t quite believe she was tending to him.

    Citrine didn''t look at him-her focus was entirely on his hand.

    "Give me your hand," she said quietly.

    Gorman obediently held it out.

    "I only stopped the bleeding earlier," Citrine exined as she unwound the bandage. "We need to clean this properly and re-wrap it to prevent infection." She dabbed his wound with antiseptic, staunched the blood, and then expertly dressed it again.

    Gorman couldn''t take his eyes off his sister, so lost in the moment he barely noticed when she finished.

    It wasn''t until Citrine spoke again that he snapped out of his trance.

    "For the next few days, keep it dry and don''t carry anything heavy. Let it heal."

    He hadn''t expected her to care like this-not after everything that had happened.

    A gentle warmth spread through him. "Thank you, Citrine."

    It had been years since he''d felt that kind offort-years since Citrine had vanished from his life.

    The police arrived soon after.

    "Who called this in?"

    Wade stepped forward. "Officers, Jete just attacked someone with a knife."

    "There were plenty of witnesses," he added. "We can all testify."

    The officers frowned. "Which one is Jete?"

    Jete''s face was ashen as she

    So away, but Citrine

    smiled and pointed. her. , that''s Jete ri

    there."

    Without hesitation, the police approached Jete and snapped the cuffs on her wrists.

    "Take her away," the lead officer said coldly.

    Jete erupted, screaming and iling like someone possessed. "It was Citrine Carmichael! She''s the one who ruined me!"

    "Settle down," one of the officers warned, his expression hard.

    As the police prepared to escort Jete out, Citrine called after them.

    "Officers, would you mind if I had a word with her first?"

    The officers exchanged nces, then nodded their consent.

    Citrine thanked them with a smile and approached Jete. Leaning in close, she murmured softly into her ear, "Oh, by the way, your

    mother''s currently lying low one line

    Mirage Cay. Who knows how much longer she''llst there?"

    Jete''s eyes went wide. "You-"

    Citrine cut her off, her tone almost yful. "Don''t get worked up.¡±

    She smiled, an edge in her voice. "I''ve already arranged everything for you inside.

    I guarantee your time in prison will be... memorable."

    Jete''s face twisted in rage. "Citrine Carmichael, you''re a monster."

    Citrine justughed, utterly at ease. "If I''m a monster, Jete, then what does

    that make you and your mother?"

    She didn''t wait for a reply. "From now on, the nightmare begins the moment you step out of prison You never get another chance to mess with me again."

    The police dragged Jete away soon after.

    Citrine watched her go, a slow smile curving her lips.

 Chapter 719

    After Jete was taken away, Herschel''s birthday banquet carried on as if nothing had happened.

    Despite the unpleasant scene Jete caused earlier, Citrine couldn''t help but feel a flicker of satisfaction at the thought that Jete would probably be stuck in a holding cell for quite a while.

    Just then, Citrine''s phone buzzed.

    She nced at the screen. The caller ID showed it was from the Federated States of Magnolia.

    With a calm expression, she pressed the answer button.

    A low, gruff voice came through. "Boss, Aline''s a coward. The minute she got in, she managed to piss off the warden. Now those people are torturing her¡ªshe''s barely hanging on."

    Citrine watched the guests in the banquet hall,ughing and clinking sses, her tone casual as she replied, "Barely hanging on is good enough. As long as she''s not dead, I don''t care."

    As she spoke, an idea urred to her. Lowering her voice, she added, "Tell Aline her precious daughter''s been arrested."

    Without waiting for a response, Citrine hung up.

    For Aline, her only hope now was that Jete would charm some powerful, wealthy man into getting her out. By letting Aline know her daughter was behind bars, Citrine had just crushed thest sliver of hope she had left.

    But that wasn''t Citrine''s problem.

    She took a ss of wine from a passing waiter and slipped out to the balcony to savor it alone.

    The stars were especially bright that night, and a gentle breeze made her feel more at ease than she had in a long time.

    Inside the hall, the Saunders family was berating Gorman, with Herschel''s voice rising above all the others.

    "You idiot! I thought some jerk overseas was the one giving Citrine''spany trouble, but it was you all along! What were you thinking, you blockhead?"

    Herschel looked about ready to throw a punch, so Inez quickly stepped in to hold him back.

    Gorman hung his head, guilt twisting in his gut. "I honestly thought you''d just found another imposter. How was I supposed to know you''d actually found Citrine?"

    If he''d known she was really back, he would''vee home right away. He never would''ve let things get so bad between him and Citrine. Now, regret gnawed at him.

    "Imposter? Say that again and I''ll teach you a lesson you won''t forget!" Herschel shot him a fierce re.

    "Come on, Grandpa. I''m nearly thirty. Can you stop threatening to beat me up every time you''re mad?" Gorman grumbled, but he gently pushed Herschel down into a chair.

    Herschel only huffed in annoyance, muttering, "Citrine''s been through more than

    enough. She''s had a tough life, and you just made it worse."

    "We''ve already agreed with the

    Carmichaels that Citrine will split her time between both families. I''m warning you-if this mess makes her real father hold it against us, you''d better pack your bags and get out of the country."

    This time, Herschel''s anger was real and deep.

    Gorman didn''t dare protest further; he nodded and promised to do whatever was needed.

    After the party ended that night, Citrine headed out for ate-night bite with her roommates, while Herschel gathered the family to go back to the Saunders'' estate.

    Gorman saw them getting into the car and followed.

    Herschel frowned. "What do you think you''re doing?"

    "Going home," Gorman replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

    "No way," Herschel shot back. "Citrine probably can''t stand the sight of you right now. If youe home, you''ll just upset her. Stay somewhere else."

    "Grandpa, are you kicking me out?" Gorman sounded almost incredulous.

    "That''s right. You''re a liability at the moment. Citrine finally started to eptus-if youe back now, you''Djust throw the whole family out of

 Chapter 720

    "Grandpa, that''s ridiculous," Gorman said, almostughing out of sheer frustration. He''d never realized his presence could cause so much tension at home.

    Herschel didn''t bother replying. Instead, he waved Gorman away with a look of annoyance. "Get out of the car."

    "Fine, I''m going," Gorman shot back, seething inside. He swung his long legs out and mmed the car door behind him.

    Once he was out of his grandfather''s car, Gorman called to have his own brought over. He drove back to the Saunders house on his own.

    When Herschel saw hime in, he frowned. "Why are you back?"

    "Why can''t Ie back?" Gorman tossed his coat on the arm of the sofa and sat down heavily.

    There was no way he''d stay away when his sister was home-especially after the stupid things he''d done. He needed to make amends.

    Herschel didn''t argue. He simply told Gorman everything he''d learned about Citrine''s past.

    He gave a grave warning: "Citrine''s a cautious girl. She doesn''t trust easily. You''d better find a way to earn her forgiveness, or you might as well note back at all."

    Gorman nodded, face darkening as he listened to what his sister had gone through all these years. Regret gnawed at him for ever siding with Jete against her.

    It waste by the time Citrine got home after grabbing a bite for supper. Normally, the Saunders family would have been in bed by now.

    Citrine crept in quietly, heading for the stairs when a voice stopped her.

    "Citrine."

    The sudden sound made her pause mid-step.

    She turned and found Gorman watching her from the dimly lit hallway. Their eyes

    met, and for a moment, neither knew what to say.

    She broke the silence first. "Why are you still up?"

    "Just came down for a ss of water. I''m going to bed soon," he replied.

    "Alright, I''ll head up then." Without another word, Citrine continued up the stairs. Gorman only snapped out of his daze once her silhouette disappeared from view. The next morning, Citrine had an early ss. She set her rm and got up before sunrise.

    When she came downstairs, the Saunders family was already waiting for her.

    "Citrine, there you are! Come have breakfast Nathalie made your favorites this morning, fresh rolls and some oatmeal," Hilda called, her eyes lighting up when she saw her daughter.

    The breakfast table was more crowded than usual. Gorman was there too. Citrine made her rounds, greeting everyone by name, but she breezed right past Gorman without so much as a nce.

    Hilda understood her daughter''s temperament. Smiling, she reached over and ruffled Citrine''s hair, piling a few warm rolls onto her te. "Eat up, sweetheart."

    "Thank you, Mom." Citrine gave Hilda a radiant smile. After all this time,

    she''d grown used to Hilda''s

    affection just as she''d grown used to having Raymond Carmichael as a father. There was no doubt they both loved her dearly.

    Hilda, always on top of Citrine''s ss schedule, nced at the clock as her daughter ate. ¡°You''ve got an early lecture today¡ªlet me drive you to campus, honey."

    Citrine was about to politely refuse when Gorman spoke up first. "Aunt Hilda, let me drive Citrine. I''m heading in that direction for some errands anyway."

    Hilda looked to Citrine, waiting for her answer.

    Without a word, Citrine slid her car keys onto the table. "No need. I brought my own car. I''ll drive myself."

    A flicker of disappointment crossed Gorman''s face. He pressed his lips together before saying, "Alright. Drive safe, Citrine."

    "Thanks," she replied, her tone polite but distant.

    Deep down, she still couldn''t bring herself to warm up to her brother Partly because of what he''d done, but mostly because she''d once held out so much hope for a big brother she''d never even met.

 Chapter 721

    Everyone in the Saunders family could hear the resistance in Citrine''s voice when she spoke to Gorman. And since everyone was firmly on Citrine''s side, not a single person spoke up for Gorman.

    After dinner, Citrine was the first to leave the table.

    Herschel set his fork down on his te with a heavy tter. He shot Gorman a warning re. "You''d better make things right with Citrine soon. Otherwise, you might as well start packing your bags-there won''t be a ce for you in this family."

    Even Inez, who rarely got involved, couldn''t help chiming in, "If Citrine can''t forgive you, don''t me your grandmother for forcing you to choose."

    Monica and Wade had never liked Gorman to begin with. Both were fiercely protective of their little sister, so it wasn''t surprising that their faces were icy cold toward him.

    By the time the meal ended, it felt like Gorman was the only casualty left at the table.

    He knew he deserved it. Still, when he remembered Citrineughing and calling Wade "big brother," a deep ache twisted in his chest.

    He couldn''t help but think back to when they were kids-back then, if Wade so much as touched her, Citrine would burst into tears. Every single time, it was Gorman who had to coax her back to smiles.

    Now, feeling utterly miserable, Gorman didn''t care about the time difference. He grabbed his phone and made a transantic call to his assistant, who was still in Magnolia.

    His assistant, startled awake, picked up with a groggy, annoyed shout: "For God''s sake, this better be important! Otherwise, you''re dead to me!"

    The outburst spent some of his anger. He finally cracked open one eye to look at the screen. When he saw the contact name "The Boss Himself"-his heart sank.

    It took him ten seconds to collect himself before he apologized on the line, "My apologies, Mr. Gorman. I thought it was someone else calling."

    Gorman ignored him.

    Sensing the mood, the assistant hurriedly asked, "President Saunders, is there something you need?"

    Gorman get straight to the point.

    "Reinstate the contracts with CI Group and Viridis Medical Institute.

    Also,

    resume our domestic

    partnerships. Get the factories back

    ontine."

    "What?" The assistant froze.

    Cancel the partnership one day, reinstate it the next. Shut the factories down, then

    scramble to reopen them. Why was his boss like this?

    The assistant felt like screaming.

    Gorman''s voice was icy. "Did you not hear me? Just do as I say."

    "Understood." The assistant replied, resigned.

    The line stayed silent. The assistant grew nervous-what else did this nightmare boss want?

    Carefully, he ventured, "Is there anything else, sir?"

    Gorman paused, then said, "Draft a share transfer agreement. I want to give twenty-five percent of thepany''s shares to my sister."

    "What?" The assistant shot upright in bed, instantly wide awake.

    Had he suddenly forgotten how to understand English? Gorman, gritting his teeth, repeated impatiently, "Draft a share transfer agreement. For my sister. Twenty-five percent."

    The assistant was stunned. "You want to give your sister a quarter of The G Group? Mr. Gorman, are you serious?"

    Even one percent was enough to live

    on for a lifetime, let alone

    twenty-five. Besides, Gorman only held fifty percent in

    e was

    practically giving his sister half of

    everything he owned.

    This wasn''t a wife or a child-this was just a sister. Mr. Gorman was out of his mind.

    The assistant tried to persuade him, "Mr. Gorman, please reconsider. You built The Group from the ground up. You''ve poured your whole life into it Now you want to just hand over half your fortune? If you were giving it to your wife or kids, that''d be one thing. But your sister''s basically an outsider!"

 Chapter 722

    "Jasper, since when did you start enjoying telling everyone what to do?" Gorman''s brows drew tight, his tone turning chilly as he realized for the first time how

    meddlesome his employee could be.

    Before Jasper could reply, Gorman cut him off. "Let me remind you, my sister is family, not some stranger. If you ever talk like that again, you can pack your bags and head back home to look after your eighty-year-old grandmother."

    Jasper immediately fell silent. "I''m sorry, Mr. Gorman. I''ll get right on it."

    That finally satisfied Gorman, and he hung up.

    Wanting to make amends with his sister, Gorman spent ages at C. Corp pleading with Hilda before he finally managed to get Citrine''s ss schedule for the semester.

    Schedule in hand, he headed straight for Crestwood University.

    Citrine''s first big lecture of the day wasn''t over yet, and Gorman didn''t want to cause a scene by barging in halfway, so he wandered around campus for a bit.

    As he walked, it dawned on him just how much his little sister had aplished. Not only had she been top of her ss in high school, now she was something of a legend at Crestwood. A few lines on the disy board were enough to showcase her extraordinary talent for medicine and her impressive research skills. Only now did Gorman truly realize how brilliant his sister was.

    He''d gotten into Crestwood back in his day too, but his scores hadn''te close to hers. The thought filled him with a quiet pride.

    Soon, the first lecture ended. Gorman checked the time and made his way toward the building where Citrine''s next ss was held.

    After wandering around a bit, he finally found the right ssroom-just in time to spot Monica and Wade.

    The two of them nked Citrine, one on each side, chatting as they walked down the hallway.

    Seeing this, Gorman felt a pang of disappointment.

    So, in all the time he''d been away, Citrine had grown so close to these two.

    He forced himself to swallow his feelings and strode over.

    "Citrine."

    At the sound of his voice, all three turned to look at him.

    It was Citrine who finally broke the silence. "What are you doing here?"

    Gorman nced at Monica and Wade, then kept his face impassive. "I''m here to sit in on your ss."

    Citrine looked from Monica to Wade, then back at Gorman, puzzled. Didn''t these people have anything better to do?

    She''d lost count of how many days Monica and Wade had already been tagging along to her sses. And

    man had joined the

    the

    entourage.  ?wnovel

    If this

    thouse Middle Ages, she

    a wry smile, she''d be

    the princess, and the three of them would be herpanions at court.

    The thought made herugh before she could stop herself.

    It was just a small smile, but Gorman caught it instantly.

    His eyes brighteneding today had been the right call.

    His sister had actually smiled at him. Maybe she didn''t dislike him anymore.

    And if she didn''t dislike him, maybe she''d forgive him soon enough.

    With Monica and Wade always by her side, Citrine had no real reason to turn Gorman away, so she quickly agreed.

    Little did she know, her real headache was about to begin.

    Once inside the ssroom, the three of them immediately got into an

    argument over the seating arrangements. All of them wanted to

    sit next to Citrine, but there was only

    one of her and three of them.

    After much bickering, they settled it the old-fashioned way-with rock-paper- scissors.

    Wade was the unlucky loser.

 Chapter 723

    Citrine sat between Monica and Gorman, while Wade took the seat next to Monica. He red at Monica and Gorman, his resentment practically radiating off

    him.

    The four of them had barely sat down when they drew the attention of everyone in the ssroom. The focus, unsurprisingly, was on Gorman, the new face among them; after all, Monica and Wade had been tagging along with Citrine for days now, and their faces were already familiar to everyone.

    In the back, a quiet buzz of whispered gossip broke out.

    "Who''s that new guy sitting with Citrine?"

    "I know, right? And look at him-so handsome! That jawline, that confidence-like

    a character straight out of a billionaire romance novel."

    "Maybe he''s Citrine''s brother? Think about it-if he was her boyfriend or just some random guy, do you really think her brother would let him sit next to her?"

    ¡°Ugh, I''m so jealous. Citrine''s siblings absolutely dote on her."

    "Honestly, I envy her siblings even more! Don''t forget who Citrine is: chairperson of CICI Group, head of Viridis Medical Institute, director at Crestwood Medical Research Center, and, on top of all that, the bestselling author Obsidian. With credentials like those, anyone would want to spoil her. I think being her sibling would be a dreame true."

    The chatter continued until the professor arrived, putting an abrupt end to the murmurs.

    The moment Professor Zachariah walked in, his eyesnded on Citrine and her group. He didn''t ask any questions, just went straight into the day''s lecture.

    Wade, ever the cker, quickly found himself nodding off as Professor Zachariah droned on and on, his eyelids growing heavier by the minute.

    Monica wasn''t exactly failing, but while she could handle finance sses, clinical medicine felt like it was written in anothernguage. She stared nkly, understanding nothing, her mind wandering further with each passing minute.

    Gorman, though, listened intently. He''d never studied this field before, but he was determined to get something out of it.

    Up at the front, Zachariah was in full force, gesturing energetically as he taught, while Monica and Wade looked ready to slide off their seats from boredom.

    Zachariah''s sses were

    notoriously challenging, and as the dean of the entire medical school, he was known for being strict. No one dared to misbehave or dozeoff during his lectures.

    So, with the rest of the students paying close attention, the sight of Gorman and Wade nearly asleep stood out like a sore thumb. Zachariah''s gaze lingered on them for several seconds.

    Citrine noticed the shift in atmosphere. Seeing Zachariah nce in their direction, she turned to find Monica fighting to keep her eyes open and Wade already slumped over, fast asleep.

    She reached over and poked both of them awake with her finger.

    Monica jolted upright, her eyes suddenly sharp. "What''s going on?"

    Gorman, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, lifted his head from the desk and, without missing a beat, mumbled, "Citrine, is it lunch time yet?"

    The ssroom erupted intoughter.

    Even Zachariah couldn''t help but chuckle from the podium.

    Citrine could only look at Monica and Wade with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. "You two are in so much trouble."

    Monica and Wade looked utterly baffled, still trying to figure out what was happening, when amanding voice rang out from the front of the room.

    "The gentleman anddy to Citrine Carmichael''s left-please stand and answer the next question."

    Zachariah fixed them with a serious, yet encouraging look.

 Chapter 724

    Monica and Wade exchanged a nce, then slowly rose from their seats.

    At that moment, they both had the same sinking feeling: This is bad-we''re about to embarrass ourselves.

    Zachariah addressed them, "Young man, why don''t you start by briefly describing the basic pathological changes in atherosclerosis."

    Wade froze.

    He leaned toward Citrine, whispering, "Did he just say porridge? Is he asking about the soup we drink?"

    Citrine murmured back, "There are three stages. The first is fatty streaks, which you can actually see on the artery... thenes the fibrous que stage..."

    Wade cleared his throat. "The fatty streak stage."

    Zachariah nodded approvingly. "Good, go on."

    Wade pressed forward, "Uh, the meatballs are big, and the bread rolls have little red spots on the surface..."

    Before he could continue, Zachariah interrupted, struggling to suppress a smile.

    "Clearly, you must be hungry, son. Why don''t you sit down for now-lunch in the cafeteria today is all-you-can-eat bread rolls."

    The whole ss erupted inughter, students doubling over in their seats. Citrine, Monica, and Gorman tried their best to muffle their giggles, wanting to spare Wade whatever dignity he still had left.

    Once Wade sat down, Zachariah turned his attention to Monica, who was still standing.

    "Well, since your ssmate doesn''t know, why don''t you answer for us?"

    "M-me?" Monica''s smile vanished in an instant.

    Zachariah nodded encouragingly.

    Monica had never felt so mortified. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

    Watching her sister struggle, Citrine finally stood up from her seat.

    "Professor Zachariah, these two are my brother and sister. They''re just sitting in today to keep mepany and aren''t familiar with our medical courses. How about I answer the question for them?"

    Monica looked at Citrine, eyes shining with gratitude, nearly on the verge of tears.

    Seeing Citrine stand up, Zachariah''s

    expression softened. "You little rascal, is there any question you can''t answer? All right, you and your sister can sit down. I won''t put you two on the spot."

    "Thank you, Professor Zachariah." Citrine nodded politely, then gently pulled Monica back down beside her.

    Monica felt as if she''d just survived a shipwreck. She grabbed her sister''s hand tightly. "Citrine, you saved me. I would have died of embarrassment if it weren''t for you."

    Wade snorted, still sulking. "Citrine, that''s not fair. You didn''t stand up for me when I was floundering, but the second Monica''s in trouble, you''re right there. What gives?"

    Monica shot him a triumphant look. "Told you I''m still her favorite sister."

    Then she nced at Wade and burst outughing. "Honestly, Wade, you were so embarrassing just now. I almost pretended I didn''t know you."

    Wade shot back, "And you just stood up there like a deer in headlights. Don''t tell me you weren''t embarrassed, too!"

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh at the two of them bickering.

    Off to the side, Gorman watched the scene unfold, feeling oddly left out. Theirughter seemed to belong to another world¡ªa world from which he was excluded.

    Even though Monica and Wade had just made fools of themselves, Gorman found himself envious of the way Citrine openly acknowledged them in ss, and of how easily they could win her affection.

    Ever since flu season began, Citrine

    had started hosting live video

    streams on social media. What

    began as a simple Q&A about health soon turned into full-blown remote consultations, connecting with viewers face-to-face through her webcam.

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 725

    It all started with a single mother and her sick child. She had no money and, after being turned away from the hospital, found herself scrolling aimlessly online-until she stumbled across Citrine''s livestream. Desperate, she left a message in the chat.

    The child''s illness wasplicated, something that couldn''t be exined in just a few words. Seeing the message, Citrine offered to start a video call.

    Appearing calm and methodical on screen, Citrine gently asked about the child''s symptoms. Once she understood the situation, she rmended a course of medication. The mother, out of options and skeptical but hopeful, went to the pharmacy, bought the medicine, and gave it to her child. Not long after, the little one was back to normal.

    On camera, the mother was overwhelmed with gratitude, thanking Citrine again and again. The clip spread, and Citrine''s poprity soared. Soon, every time she went live, people would request video consultations, asking her for advice on all sorts of medical problems. Citrine always agreed, handling each case as if she were seeing patients in her clinic. For simple cases, she''d write up a prescription; for moreplex ones, she''d walk the patient through a list of tests and treatments, carefully exining the pros and cons.

    Citrine''s professionalism and remarkable medical expertise quickly attracted a devoted following. Her fan count was fast approaching half a million, and as more people tuned in, it didn''t take long for someone to uncover her true identity.

    Within hours, she was trending everywhere.

    #CICI Group CEO Hosts Free Online Consultations

    #The Most Beautiful CEO

    #Boss Goes Live

    "Wait a second, isn''t this streamer the CEO of CICI Group?"

    "She''s not just the CEO of CICI Group-she''s also the head of Viridis Medical Institute and Crestwood Medical Research Center, and the lead specialist at Crestwood. Not to mention, she''s the bestselling author Obsidian."

    "No wonder! I was amazed by how urate her diagnoses were. Turns out, she''s an expert!"

    "She must have superhuman

    energy-teaching sses by day,

    running herpanies, then livestreaming free consultations night. No wonder she''s so

    at

    sessful. If I could hustle like her, I''dr

    make it too."

    People who didn''t know Citrine personally read the news online and couldn''t help but feel deeply grateful.

    "I never would have guessed. I thought all corporations were as ruthless as Glenwood Group, but it turns out there are still good people like President Carmichael."

    "During the flu season, she saved my wife''s life. If not for President Carmichael, my wife might not have made it."

    "She spent her days performing

    surgeries at the research center, and her nights offering free

    consultations and practical advice to flu patients like us who couldn''t get medical care. She did so much, quietly, without asking for anything in return. She really is a business leader with a conscience."

    "For someone that powerful and aplished to offer free consultations to ordinary people-she must truly be kindhearted."

    That night, Citrine was livestreaming again, offering medical advice as she always did.

    Elsewhere in the city, in a quiet apartment, Sebastian Vesper sat before hisputer, tuned in to Citrine''s broadcast as she spoke with viewers.

    He had stumbled across her stream

    Pet

    a few days earlier and quickly became a regr, making sure to catch every session. Sebastian knew nothing about medicine, but he found himself captivated by the way Citrine spoke to patients her calm confidence, her gentle use of technical terms. At those moments, she seemed to glow.

    The next morning, with no sses to teach, Citrine headed straight to CICI Group.

    Business had been booming for months, and the workload had only increased. Citrine decided it was time to organize apany retreat.

 Chapter 726

    Once she had an idea, Carlotta Yarbrough wasted no time putting it into action.

    Within minutes, she''d gathered all thepany''s senior executives for a meeting. When Citrine announced her n for apany retreat, everyone in the room stared at her in disbelief.

    A few of the executives immediately voiced their objections.

    "President Carmichael, you just went viral online and our sales have skyrocketed. We should be capitalizing on this momentum, working overtime-not running off for a retreat right now."

    "That''s right, President Carmichael. If we use this opportunity tounch our new smart robot, we''ll make a killing."

    "How can we pass up a chance like this? Don''t you want to make money, President Carmichael?"

    Citrine sat at the head of the table, her brow furrowed as she tapped her fingers idly against the polished wood.

    Sebastian nced up just in time to catch the look on her face. He didn''t need to guess he knew she was silently cursing these old-timers. Judging by her expression, it wasn''t anything polite.

    He couldn''t help but let a small smile tug at his mouth.

    Meanwhile, some other executives were quick to voice their support.

    "President Carmichael, you really care about us. You have no idea-my team has been so swampedtely that hardly anyone smiles anymore. They''ll be over the moon when they hear about this."

    "Don''t listen to them, President Carmichael. We need a break. There''s always more money to be made, but you can''t buy back your health."

    "I''m all for the retreat, President Carmichael. This is the perfect chance to recharge. After all, a short pause is just so we can sprint ahead even faster."

    Most of the team was clearly in favor of the retreat. Only a handful of the older executives wanted to take advantage of the sales surge to push out the new robot and rake in profits.

    Smiling, Citrine addressed the dissenters. "We work hard so we can actually enjoy life. Let''s not lose sight of that. Besides, taking some time to rx is good for our health. Everyone''s been stretched thin these past weeks."

    Hearing her say this, the opposition fell silent.

    With no more

    now disagreement, Citrine

    raised voice: "I''m announcing it now next Monday through Friday, we''re going on apany retreat."

    "Five days?" Several people gasped in surprise.

    Citrine exined, "After this, we''ll probably be busier than ever. So let''s really fake a few extra days."

    e the most of itat

    Someone piped up, "So, President Carmichael, where are we camping? I want to

    get a head start on prepping supplies."

    Citrine smiled. "We''re not going camping."

    The room erupted in surprise. "Wait, what? Then where are we going?"

    Company retreats had always meant camping in the past, so the word "retreat¡± instantly conjured that image for everyone.

    Citrine let the suspense hang for a moment before finally announcing, "We''re going to Whisperwind Cay."

    The words had barely left her mouth when the room exploded with excitement. Cheers and whoops filled the air.

    "No way! I was just wondering where to go for vacation this year."

    "Thispany is amazing. Seriously, who does this for their employees?"

    "I''d give my heart and soul for this ce."

    "Thispany is my family now. As long as it stays standing, I''m here for life."

    Whisperwind Cay was a newly developed ind off the Crestwood coast, famous for its breathtaking scenery and luxury beachfront vis. It was stunning-and, naturally, the price tag matched. ''

    Even the executives who had been lukewarm about the retreat perked up at the mention of Whisperwind Cay, suddenly eager to go.

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 727

    Monday morning, Citrine woke up early and, after a quick breakfast, grabbed her suitcase and headed out the door.

    This time, thepany had organized a special team-building retreat and even chartered a bus, which now waited out front.

    By the time Citrine arrived with her luggage, most of the employees were already gathered, chatting in small groups near the bus.

    As soon as they spotted her, everyone seemed to perk up, quickly making their way over.

    "Good morning, President Carmichael!¡±

    "President Carmichael, did you have breakfast? I brought a croissant for you, just in case."

    "President Carmichael, please, you should get on first."

    "Here, let me take your bag, President Carmichael."

    One by one, her employees greeted her with genuine warmth, eager to help.

    Sebastian Vesper stood off to the side, silently taking it all in. When he''d first joined CICI Group, he''d been surprised-almost skeptical-of how the staff treated Citrine. At first, he''d assumed they were just trying to curry favor with the boss. But as time went on, seeing more of how things worked, he realized it wasn''t about ttery.

    Citrine genuinely cared about her team. She made sure they had the best benefits and treated everyone with real respect. The staff remembered her kindness and worked hard, treating Citrine almost like family.

    For Sebastian, it was the first time he''d seen such a rtionship between a leader and her team, the first time he''d felt the warmth of CICI Group. It was nothing like any otherpany he''d known; there was a real sense of humanity here.

    He watched as Citrine, surrounded by her employees, boarded the bus. A faint smile yed at his lips, and he followed after her.

    Citrine settled into a window seat near the back, pulling out her phone. She was scrolling through messages when she suddenly noticed someone blocking the light. Looking up, she found Sebastian standing beside her.

    "Mind if I sit here?" he asked with a small, easy smile.

    Before she could answer, Sebastian had already dropped into the seat next to her, making himselffortable.

    Citrine tried to exin, "Actually, this seat-"

    But before she could finish, a young woman appeared, holding out a small container. "President Carmichael, I brought you some fresh fruit."

    She nced politely at Sebastian. "Good morning, Mr. Vesper."

    Without another word, she picked up her phone from the little tray in front of Sebastian and slipped away.

    Citrine let it go and turned back to her phone.

    A few minutester, the bus rumbled to life, and they set off.

    Citrine hadn''t slept enough the night before, and her eyelids felt heavy. She leaned back, closing her eyes, hoping to recharge a little on the ride.

    Sebastian noticed she wasn''t asleep and spoke up quietly, "Rough night?"

    She opened her mouth, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not really rough. Just not enough sleep. Got a headache."

    "Want me to help with that?" Sebastian''s gaze flicked to her gently parted lips. He didn''t think twice before the words slipped out.

    Citrine blinked, not quite catching his meaning. Before she could ask, his cool fingertips were already pressing lightly at her temples. He''d leaned in so close that she could catch a hint of his fresh, cedarwood scent.

    "What are you doing?" Hershes fluttered as she opened her eyes, startled.

    She found herself staring straight into his eyes, amusement sparking in their depths.

    It was only then that Citrine realized how close he''d gotten-half his body angled toward her, the space between them almost nonexistent. To a passerby, it might look like they were about to kiss.

    Kiss.

    The word flitted through her mind before she could stop it.

    Embarrassed, she turned her head away, her gaze darting out the window as she pushed against his shoulder.

    But Sebastian didn''t budge.

    "Sit up," she said, her voice flustered in a way she didn''t quite recognize.

    He didn''t move his hand. "Trust me. Close your eyes. This''ll help," he murmured, his tone gentle, almost coaxing.

 Chapter 728

    Citrine was about to protest, insisting she didn''t need the help, but seeing how determined he was, she finally closed her eyes.

    Once her eyes were shut, Sebastian pressed his fingers a bit more firmly against her temples.

    The cool touch of his fingertips circled gently, easing away the tension that had been throbbing at her head. Slowly, the difort faded, reced by a soothing calm.

    She couldn''t help but ask, "Sebastian, have you ever done this before? You''re awfully good at it."

    "Maybe I''m just naturally gifted," he replied. Sebastian paused briefly at her question, unable to hold back a softugh.

    Citrine let the conversation drop, surrendering to theforting sensation of his skillful hands.

    Watching as the tension in her brow melted away, Sebastian couldn''t help but smile to himself.

    As he continued, drowsiness crept up on Citrine, and before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep.

    Once he realized she''d dozed off, Sebastian''s hands stilled, though he remained in the same careful posture, not wanting to disturb her.

    He found himself studying her peaceful features, emotions surging within him.

    If Citrine had opened her eyes at that moment, she would have seen the fierce, unmistakable tenderness in Sebastian''s gaze-so intense it could have burned

    her.

    Sebastian brushed a stray strand of hair from her face with the gentlest touch. Whatever you want from me, Citrine, I''ll do it. I promise.

    Thinking of everything she''d entrusted to him, he allowed himself the smallest, secretive smile.

    An hourter, the car pulled up at their destination, and Citrine stirred awake. The moment she opened her eyes, she sensed something was off.

    She was nestled against Sebastian''s chest, his arm curled behind her neck, half embracing her. Their closeness was unexpectedly intimate.

    Snapping fully awake, she immediately pulled away, gently untangling herself from his arm and sitting upright.

    Sebastian, feeling her movement, opened his eyes as well. Their gazes met, and for a moment, awkwardness hung in the air.

    The silence was finally broken by the driver''s voice from the front seat: "Ms. Chairman, Mr. Vesper, we''ve arrived."

    Citrine cleared her throat and quicklyposed herself, stepping out of the car ahead of Sebastian.

    He watched her retreating figure with an amused smile, then followed after her.

    At the hotel, Carlotta Yarbrough handed out room keys to everyone. Each person grabbed their luggage and headed up to their ocean-view suites.

    The amodations were impressive; from the window, the vast blue sea stretched out as far as the eye could see.

    Once in her room, Citrine unpacked her suitcase and was about to change clothes when the doorbell rang.

    She walked over and pulled the door open.

    Carlotta greeted her with a bright smile. "Citrine, the team''s nning to go surfing

    in a bit, and they made me promise to invite you."

    Citrine wasn''t one to spoil the fun. "Sure, count me in," she replied without hesitation.

    As she started to close the door, Carlotta added with a mischievous grin, "Oh, and everyone''s wearing bikinis. Don''t forget yours!"

    Citrine couldn''t help butugh. "Got it."

    A few minutester, she had freshened up and changed into the bikini she''d brought for the trip-just as everyone had hoped.

    It was practically a rite of passage to get great photos when visiting an ind paradise.

    Draping a cover-up over her

    shoulders, Citrine stepped out of her

    room. At the same time, Sebastian emerged from the suite next door, and the two of them nearly bumped into each other in the hallway.

    Sebastian took in her beach attire. "Heading out?"

    Citrine nodded.

    "I''lle with you."

    In the end, they left together.

    A small group was already gathered at the hotel entrance, waiting. When they spotted Citrine and Sebastian arriving side by side, everyone''s eyes lit up.

    Rumors had already been swirling around the office about the pair''s unusual closeness. Seeing them together now, their colleagues couldn''t help but whisper and nudge each other.

    "They look amazing together."

    "My god, I''ve never realized just how perfect they are as a couple until now."

 Chapter 729

    "Oh my god, that''s so sweet. I just want to fall in love already."

    "Does anyone actually know what''s really going on between the Chairman and Mr. Vesper? Are they dating or not?"

    The chattering only stopped when the two of them walked over.

    "President Carmichael, Mr. Vesper, you made it!"

    It was clear thepany''s younger staff had gone all out for the beach day: the women lounged in bikinis, the guys wore nothing but swim trunks, their bare chests catching the sun.

    But Citrine and Sebastian were in a league of their own. She had a beach wrap draped over her shoulders, and he wore a simple t-shirt, the two of them standing out all the more as a pair.

    Of course, no one dared say that aloud-those thoughts stayed firmly in everyone''s heads.

    Someone piped up, "Mr. Vesper, why don''t youe surfing with us?"

    Sebastian shot Citrine a quick, unreadable look, then nodded. "Sure, I''m in.¡±

    The group made their way down to the sand. Citrine shrugged off her wrap as soon as they reached the shore.

    She revealed a pale blue bikini that made her skin look even more luminous. All eyes immediatelynded on her.

    "She''s so fair-skinned..."

    "Look at that waist. I mean, how is that even possible?"

    "And those legs-so long and slim. Not an ounce of extra weight."

    "Her back''s so delicate..."

    "Oh my god, she''s gorgeous. I think I''m in love."

    ...

    It wasn''t just the women who stole nces; more than a few of the guys couldn''t keep their eyes off Citrine either.

    Citrine didn''t seem to notice, but Sebastian-standing a little apart-took in every detail, his gaze darkening ever so slightly.

    At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to wrap her up, to shield her from all those admiring eyes.

    But of course, he couldn''t do a thing about it.

    Someone turned to Citrine, "President Carmichael, should we book a lesson for you too?"

    Most of the staff came from pretty average backgrounds. Surfing wasn''t exactly a regr pastime, so almost everyone needed an instructor.

    Citrine waved it off. "No need. I''m certified-I can handle myself."

    With that, the group drifted off, leaving only Citrine and Sebastian alone.

    She nced at him, puzzled. "You''re not going?"

    Sebastian replied, "No, I''m staying here."

    Assuming he just wanted to surf on his own, Citrine didn''t press.

    They went to grab their surfboards, and as Sebastian hefted his, he turned to her

    with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Will you teach me?"

    "What? You don''t know how?" Citrine stared at him, surprised.

    Sebastian shook his head.

    Citrine was quiet for a moment, and just as Sebastian wondered if she''d turn ¨¤ down, she walked over to the staff and grabbed a safety leash and a life vest.

    She handed him the vest. "Put this on."

    Sebastian took it and slipped it over his head.

    Once they were both ready, they headed for the water''s edge.

    .n

    Citrine started with the basics: how to use the surfboard, attach the ankle leash, adjust the vest, and she even exined the tides-when to expect the waves to rise and fall.

    When she finished, she had

    Sebastian practice his moves on the sand first. Once he was getting the hang of it, they waded together into the shallows.

    "Hold on tight." She handed him the end of the leash.

    As Sebastian climbed onto his board, Citrine hopped onto hers with practiced

    ease.

    "Knees bent, engage your core," she coached.

    Sebastian was a quick study. Everything Citrine exined, he understood instantly and put into action.

    In no time at all, he didn''t even need to hold the safety line anymore.

    ¡°Not bad,¡± Citrine grinned. "You''re picking this up fast¡ªa lot faster than I did, honestly."

    Sebastian didn''t know why, but standing on the board, it was like he''d been doing this forever, as if the board and he were one and the same.

 Chapter 732

    One of those men adored Citrine so much that he seemed to shrink in her presence, while the other, though always butting heads with her, couldn''t hide the tenderness in his eyes or the care in his words-feelings he probably hadn''t even noticed himself.

    He knew Citrine didn''t like either of them, but he wasn''t sure whether that should make him feel relieved or not.

    When it came to emotions, she was an enigma¡ªyoung, yet impossible for him to read.

    As Citrine was eating, she suddenly caught a strange look on his face.

    "What''s on your mind?" she asked.

    Sebastian snapped back to the present. He looked into Citrine''s eyes, his tone unusually earnest. "I was wondering what kind of person you''d fall for."

    What he really wanted to ask was whether she could ever like him, but he didn''t dare.

    She was simply too far out of reach-brilliant, self-possessed, and distant. All he could do was bury his feelings deep inside.

    Most of all, he was afraid that if he ever confessed, things between them would end up like her and Hastings-strained and broken. That was a risk he couldn''t bear.

    Sebastian held her gaze, as if waiting for her answer.

    Citrine didn''t reply right away.

    What kind of person would she like? She''d never really thought about it.

    Those ten wasted years with Theo had drained everyst bit of her strength. The scars from that rtionship were so deep that, even now, the idea of falling in love again had never crossed her mind.

    She answered honestly, "I don''t know."

    Sebastian''s eyes still shone with that unwavering intensity. Citrine hesitated, then decided toy her heart bare, just this once. "Loving someone is exhausting. I don''t want to go through that again in this lifetime. I want someone who''ll love me, steadfast and true, who''ll choose me without hesitation, who''ll love me more than life itself¡ªmaybe even more than he loves himself. If I ever met that kind of person... maybe I''d fall for him."

    Even as she said it, Citrine felt her own words were too much-demanding, even shameless. She thought, perhaps, this would put an end to whatever Sebastian was feeling for her.

    But she hadn''t expected the look in his eyes to grow even more intense after she finished speaking.

    It wasn''t disappointment. If anything, he looked almost... excited.

    She couldn''t imagine what he was thinking.

    "There will be someone like that," Sebastian said, his heart pounding in his chest.

    Everything she wanted he could do that. Did that mean he had a chance?

    His gaze was so fierce and intent that Citrine felt a little scorched by it.

    "Why are that?"

    hou looking at me like ¨¨ muttered, a fainted her eyes and focused her

    creeping up her ears as she

    meal.

    Sebastian sat across from her, watching her cheeks puff up like a chipmunk as she chewed-she looked irresistibly cute.

    "It''s nothing. You''re just... adorable," he said, unable to hold back a quietugh.

    A few minutester, they finally finished eating, and Citrine felt a wave of relief wash over her.

    She was about toe up with an excuse to head back to the hotel when Sebastian spoke up. "There''s a show on the beach tonight. Why don''t we go watch it together?"

    "I don''t think so." If she kept agreeing to things like this, Sebastian might get the wrong idea-think she was stringing him along. She didn''t want that sooner orter, it would interfere with work.

    Sebastian''s eyes dimmed, a flicker of hurt passing through them.

    Just when he''d felt a glimmer of hope, she shut him down again.

    Why did she always choose to run away?

    Sebastian didn''t know what came over him tonight¡ªhe just couldn''t let her keep retreating.

    He looked at her seriously. "The show''s supposed to be amazing. It''d be a shame to miss it."

 Chapter 733

    Citrine was just about to speak when Sebastian suddenly leaned in, his handsome faceing so close she could see every gentle line of his expression. His gaze softened to something almost unbearably tender.

    "Are you really willing to miss out on this?"

    Citrine had already been wavering-she did want to see the show. Hearing Sebastian''s low voice made up her mind. "Alright, let''s go."

    Sebastian''s lips curled in a satisfied little smile.

    Together, they headed down to the beach.

    By now, the shoreline had been transformed. A stage stood beneath strings of lights, pulsing with the beat of a DJ who had everyone''s adrenaline running high. Up onstage, beautiful men and women moved their hips to the music, their silhouettes alive with energy. Down below, tourists¡ªsome standing, some lounging on the sand-sang along and danced, every now and then shouting andughing with pure delight. The whole ce buzzed with excitement.

    In this kind of atmosphere, it was impossible to remember anything sad.

    Citrine and Sebastian found a spot to sit, ordering a few drinks so they could both catch a pleasant buzz-after all, it just wouldn''t feel right to soak up this scene without a little alcohol.

    Citrine ordered four bottles, intending for them to each have two. But somehow, she ended up downing three of them herself, leaving Sebastian with just one.

    Even then, Citrine felt like it wasn''t enough. Smiling, she waved to the server.

    "One more, please!"

    Sebastian nced at her flushed cheeks, his expression shifting with concern. "You''re already this drunk, and you still want more?"

    Citrine, squinting in a tipsy haze, reached for the fresh bottle. But just as her fingers brushed the ss, a strong, steady hand closed gently around her wrist.

    "Hey, that''s enough," Sebastian said softly.

    Without waiting for her reply, he turned to the server and shook his head. "No more drinks for her, thanks. She''s had enough.¡±

    "Why won''t you let me have another?" Citrine protested, her mood instantly soured.

    Sebastian steadied her in her seat, his voice low and coaxing. "You''re already drunk. If you drink any more, you''ll just end up with a headache."

    He ruffled her hair affectionately. ¡°Come on, be good.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine. I''ll listen," Citrine muttered, her head lolling,pletely unguarded.

    Watching her stubbornly wobbling head, Sebastian couldn''t hold back a quietugh. "You''re actually kind of adorable when you''re drunk."

    Suddenly, amotion rippled through the crowd at the stage.

    Sebastian looked up to see a man down on one knee, facing a girl a few feet away. The girl was covering her face, clearly overwhelmed, stumbling back as if startled by what was happening.

    ?

    The man on his knee grew anxious as she retreated. He called out, "Ady, don''t be scared I''m not proposing!"

    The girl''s eyes darted away, desperate for the moment to end.

    But the man wasn''t about to back down. He looked dead serious.

    "Ady, we''ve known each other for five years. You''re passionate about fashion design, but you gave up your chance to study abroad for me. You''re gentle by nature, but you argued for the first time in your

    vel

    life because of me. You remember all my favorite things. I can feel that you care about me, just like I care about you. I love you, and you know that."

    He drew a shaky breath. "But what I can''t understand is¡ªwhy do you always run away whenever I bring up our rtionship? Why do you avoid this, when I know you care?"

    He hesitated, pain etched in his

    brow. "All this time, I was too scared

    to break the ice between us. I was afraid that if you rejected me, we''d lose even our friendship, and that was a risk I couldn''t take. But now I get it. I like you. If I don''t take a chance now, I''ll just regret it someday-and I don''t want any regrets."

 Chapter 734

    The girl stood in silence, her lips parted as if to speak, but in the end, she said nothing.

    The man pressed on. "I... I know yourst rtionship hurt you so deeply you haven''t been able to move on. But Ady, I''m not him. I would never hurt you the way he did. You can''t just shut me out, not even give me a chance. It''s been five years¡ªyou must have noticed how I feel by now. Even if you refuse to take a single step toward me, that''s alright. I''ll walk all hundred steps to reach you."

    A flicker of emotion crossed the girl''s face.

    He must have noticed, because he shut his eyes for a moment before speaking again. ¡°Ady, I love you. I want to marry you. Can you give me a chance-let''s try dating, with marriage in mind?"

    She hesitated. Of course she liked him; how could she not? But the scars from her past rtionship left her afraid-afraid to open up, to step into something new.

    The crowd below erupted into apuse and cheers.

    "Go for it! Give him a chance!"

    "Don''t let a failed rtionship make you doubt yourself!"

    "You deserve to be loved!"

    "What''s there to be afraid of? You only live once-make the most of it!"

    "Exactly! No matter what happens, just be happy!"

    "I believe you two will get married."

    "It''s okay to be brave, you might just find happiness!"

    The cheers from the onlookers sent a wave of encouragement through both of them. Suddenly, the girl''s hesitation melted away.

    She blinked back tears, turned to the crowd, and called, "Thank you, all of you."

    Then she looked up at the man on stage. "Raymond, I like you too. Let''s be together."

    Life is too short to hide in your shell; so what if you make a mistake? You can always start over. But you can''t spend your life running away.

    Sebastian watched the couple on stage, listening to the crowd''s

    encouragement, and something

    inside him shifted. Content Belongs to

    Maybe it was time for him to be brave, too.

    Just then, a sleepy voice snapped him back to reality.

    "Time to go home." Citrine mumbled as she tried to stand up.

    with ~~

    Sebastian immediately got up with her.

    , sit back down," he said gently pressing her should saide

    guide her into her seat.

    "I don''t want to sit. I want to go home." Citrine was drunk, stubborn, and utterly uncooperative.

    "Alright, alright, we''ll go home." Sebastian gave in, soothing her as best he could. With her mind foggy, Citrine leaned on Sebastian as they made their way out. After a while, she suddenly stopped.

    "What''s wrong?" Sebastian asked when she didn''t move.

    "I don''t feel good," Citrine muttered, crouching down on the spot.

    "Is it dizziness? Nausea?" Sebastian''s face was tense with worry.

    Citrine, barely coherent, managed a small nod.

    He nced around and spotted a bench nearby, then gently helped Citrine over and sat her down.

    "Just rest here for a bit. I''ll go get you some hot water."

    She nodded obediently, reassuring him enough to leave her side for a moment.

    Just then, Hastings happened to see

    re

    Citrine slumped on the bench.

    Wut a second thought, he

    over.

    "Citrine, why are you out here alone? Where''s that jerk Sebastian? He just left you here by yourself?"

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    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 735

    "Citrine, what''s so great about Sebastian anyway? He''s not good enough for you."

    Hastings hadn''t noticed anything strange about Citrine as he sat down beside her. She leaned back in her chair, eyes tightly closed. In the darkness, you''d have to look closely to see the flush of pink coloring her cheeks.

    Half-asleep, Citrine vaguely heard Hastings''s voice. She frowned, clearly annoyed, and shot back automatically, "Go away."

    Her tone brimmed with utter contempt.

    A bitter smile twisted at Hastings''s lips. "Citrine, don''t treat me like this, please?"

    Suddenly, old memories surged up in Citrine''s mind-countless moments from her past life when Hastings had wronged her. She remembered every single slight, never letting herself forget, not even for a day.

    So when she heard his plea, she didn''t hesitate. "No," she said tly.

    Hastings looked at her with a helpless, almost desperate expression. He just couldn''t reach her anymore.

    After a moment, he asked, "Do you really like Sebastian?"

    Citrine shifted ufortably on the bench, turning her head away as she tried to find a position that didn''t make her feel worse. She didn''t bother answering him.

    Her silence felt like a confession. Hastings''s whole body ached, his heart clenching in his chest as if someone had reached in and squeezed the life out of it. Jealousy and hatred surged through him like a tidal wave, but he forced it back down-barely.

    He loved her too much. He didn''t even dare to be openly jealous for fear she''d hate him even more.

    All that bitterness had to go somewhere, so he directed it at Sebastian instead.

    For a moment, he wished Sebastian would just drop dead. Maybe then, Citrine would finally look his way again.

    Hastings''s gaze grew dark as he muttered to himself, "Do you really like him that much? What does he have that I don''t?"

    Citrine, groggy and irritated, just wanted Hastings to stop talking so she could rest. After he finished, she finally snapped, "Shut up.¡±

    Hastings stared at her, then

    suddenly blurted out, "What if I said I didn''t mind you two? I''d be willing to be your second, if that''s what it takes."

    He looked at her with a desperate hope flickering in his eyes.

    Citrine said nothing, her head spinning.

    Just then, Sebastian appeared, carrying a mug of hot water. He caught the tail end of the conversation, hearing every word Hastings had said.

    Sebastian''s grip tightened on the mug as he strode toward them, eyes locked on Hastings.

    "Mr. Cooper, I''ve seen shameless people before, but never someone so eager to y second fiddle."

    Startled by the voice, Hastings jerked his head up.

    As Sebastian approached, Hastings spat, "Sebastian, you''re just a broke nobody. If you really think Citrine would ever choose you, you''re

    deluding yourself. She''s just

    young

    and wants a bit of fun-give it a little time, she''ll get bored of you."

    Hatred flickered in Hastings''s eyes.

    Sebastian had no intention of exining his rtionship with Citrine to Hastings. He kept his voice cold. "Maybe she''ll tire of me, maybe she won''t. All I know is, even if she doesn''t want me, she''d neverspare you a second nce."

    He let out a scornfulugh. "Can''t you see how much she despises you?"

    "Shut up!" Hastings snapped, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

    Sebastian just smiled. "If you''re so aware of how much Citrine can''t stand you, maybe you should do us all a favor and disappear."

 Chapter 736

    Sebastian ignored Hastingspletely and walked straight past him, carrying a

    mug of steaming water. She made her way to Citrine and settled down at her side.

    Inside Citrine''s head, it felt like a thousand horses were galloping in every direction.

    Sebastian gently straightened Citrine''s head and brought the mug to her lips.

    "Citrine, drink some water."

    As if she''d heard the words through a fog, Citrine blinked her eyes open and obediently sipped from Sebastian''s hand. Warmth spread through her chest, soothing andforting.

    Sebastian smiled in satisfaction at how cooperative she was.

    "What are you two doing?" Hastings was watching them with a stormy expression, unable to hide his jealousy at their closeness.

    "What''s wrong with Citrine?" Only now did he notice the soft flush on her cheeks, the way she looked nothing like her usual self-sleepy, out of sorts.

    "It''s none of your business." Sebastian didn''t even bother looking at him.

    Without another word, she scooped Citrine up into her arms and made to leave.

    Hastings'' face twisted further, and he stepped forward, arms outstretched to block their path. "Put Citrine down."

    Sebastian only held Citrine tighter, her voice cold as steel. "You''re thest person she wants around. What right do you have to say that?"

    There was a dangerous glint in Hastings'' eyes. He reached for Citrine. "Give her to me," he demanded, his voice shaking. "Give her back." He couldn''t even let himself imagine what might happen if Sebastian took her away. The thought of Citrine leaving with someone else was unbearable.

    Sebastian''s answer was t and unyielding. "Keep dreaming."

    With that, Sebastian barreled past Hastings, shouldering him aside and carrying Citrine down the hall.

    She didn''t stir as she was carried all the way back to the hotel.

    Once inside the room, Sebastian gentlyid her down on the bed and finally let out a long breath.

    After sitting at her side for a moment, she stood up, went to the bathroom, and soaked a towel in cool water.

    Citrine was already fast asleep, her eyes closed, breathing deep and even.

    Sebastian caught herself smiling unconsciously.

    She knelt beside the bed on one knee, using the damp towel to softly wipe Citrine''s face. It was a simple task, but she took her time, moving with slow, careful strokes, as if memorizing every detail of her skin.

    Citrine, half-awake, registered the cool, gentle touch gliding across her cheeks. It felt wonderful, and she let herself rxpletely, trusting Sebastian''s hands.

    After a while, Citrine''s lips felt dry. Still half-asleep, she instinctively darted out her tongue to moisten them.

    Sebastian froze instantly, her whole body tensing. The brief, warm brush of Citrine''s tongue against her palm sent a jolt through her-hot and electric. Her hand stopped moving.

    She''d always thought she could keep herposure, but now, with just this tiny, unconscious gesture from Citrine, her calm shattered.

    A slow, dangerous heat built in her chest, threatening to burn away her self- control.

    And yet Citrine,pletely unaware of the effect she''d had, simply rolled over and drifted deeper into sleep, leaving Sebastian to deal with the chaos she''d left behind.

    Sebastian watched her peaceful sleeping face and allowed herself a quiet, helplessugh. Then she dutifully finished wiping Citrine''s hands, making sure she was settledfortably.

    Only when everything was done did Sebastian tiptoe out of the room.

    It was alreadyte. Back in her own room next door, Sebastian didn''t try to sleep right away. Instead, she stood under a freezing shower, letting the cold water chase away the lingering heat beneath her skin.

    Maybe it was the courage she''d witnessed in that reckless couple

    tonight, or maybe it was Has

    desperate plea-either way,

    something had shifted inside her.

    Sebastiany awake the entire night,

    unable to close her eyes.

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 Chapter 737

    The next morning, Citrine woke up early.

    The fuzzy-headed exhaustion from the night before was long gone. Her mind felt clear, sharper than ever.

    She sat up in bed, moving slowly as memories from yesterday flickered through her thoughts. Most of the details had faded, but she could recall drinking with Sebastian and watching ate-night show together. At the end, there''d been a couple onstage-hearts in their eyes-confessing their feelings and bing a couple, the audience erupting in apuse. Citrine remembered feeling dizzy after that, insisting she needed to go home. Sebastian had escorted her back, making sure she was safe.

    Beyond that, there was only a vague recollection of a dream¡ªsomething about Hastings. The specifics were a blur, and honestly, she had no interest in digging deeper into any dreams about him.

    Rising promptly, she washed up and decided to head out for breakfast.

    But the moment she opened her door, she found Hastings and Quentin standing right there in the hallway. Sebastian was there too, leaning casually against his own doorway, chatting with them. All three heads turned her way as soon as she appeared.

    Seeing Hastings first thing in the morning-especially after dreaming about him¡ª put Citrine in a sour mood. She eyed them, her patience already thin. "What are you two doing here?"

    Hastings, careful not to mention anything aboutst night, forced a smile. "Citrine, I brought diving gear. Let''s grab some breakfast, then head out to the water together."

    Quentin''s hopeful gaze flickered toward her. He huffed, feigning indifference. "Let''s go. I''ll let bygones be bygones about you stripping me down at Havencrest."

    Citrine had been nning to go diving today, but certainly not with these two. Right now, they just felt like a pair of lingering ghosts. If she''d known they''d be here, she''d never have picked this spot for thepany retreat.

    She shot them a cold re. "No, thanks."

    With that, she brushed past them.

    Sebastian gave Hastings and Quentin a frosty look before following after her.

    Once they''d left, Hastings looked utterly dejected. "What does Sebastian have that I don''t?"

    Quentin, watching Citrine''s retreating back, felt a twinge of difort.

    Meanwhile, Citrine and Sebastian had made their way to the restaurant. Once breakfast was served, Citrine spoke first. "Thanks for taking me homest night."

    Her expression was unreadable. Sebastian guessed she didn''t remember much from her tipsy antics. He smiled. "Of course. It was nothing."

    He reached out and ced a small, warm croissant on her te. "Try this. It''s the house specialty-I think you''ll like it."

    "Thanks." Citrine looked up, catching the gentle warmth in his gaze. Something about it felt different, but she couldn''t quite put her finger on what had changed.

    Sebastian seemed less reserved than before, more open-his eyes lingering on her just a moment longer than usual. It was new, but she didn''t mind.

    She hesitated, then asked, "I don''t really remember what happenedst night. I didn''t do anything embarrassing, did I?"

    Sebastian paused, recalling the feel

    Vele

    of her hand in his, the warmth that lingered long after. His throat

    tightened. "No," he said, voice a little rougher than usual. "Nothing at all."

    "Good." Citrine smiled, relieved she hadn''t blurted out anything in her sleep. Brinking could really mess with your memory-she hated the

    feeling of cking out.

    Suddenly, another thought struck her. She looked up. "By the way, where are Carlotta and the others this morning?"

    Usually, Carlotta and the rest of the team never missed a chance to drag her along for breakfast or some. group activity. But today, there

    hadn''t been a peep from them,

    which struck Citrine as odd.

 Chapter 738

    Sebastian never exined that people had mistaken them for a couple and were intentionally keeping their distance.

    After a brief pause, he simply said, "They went ahead to get something to eat."

    Citrine wasn''t one to dwell on things. Hearing his answer, she let it go.

    "Do you want to go diving this afternoon?" she asked, unusually taking the initiative.

    Sebastian was caught off guard by her invitation, pleasantly surprised.

    He answered without hesitation, "Sure."

    After lunch, they dropped by a shop to pick up two sets of diving gear, then hopped onto a boat and headed out to sea.

    Suddenly, something urred to Citrine. She nced back at Sebastian. "By the way, I forgot to ask-have you been diving before?"

    Sebastian had, but only once, a long time ago.

    Not wanting to dampen Citrine''s enthusiasm, he smiled and said, "Yeah, I''ve dived before."

    Relieved, Citrine asked, "How about the deep water? Is that okay with you?" Sebastian nodded.

    As they neared the deep-water area, Citrine caught sight of another boat in the distance¡ªand instantly recognized two faces she would have preferred not to

    see.

    "Just my luck," she muttered under her breath.

    Sebastian, right beside her, heard herment. He followed her gaze, a faint smirk ying at his lips. "Yeah, just our luck."

    Meanwhile, on the other boat, Hastings and Quentin had noticed them too.

    Hastings couldn''t hide his delight at spotting Citrine.

    Quentin let out a short, derisiveugh. "Said she wasn''ting, and look at that -showed up anyway. Women always say one thing and do another."

    His words were sarcastic, but a small, knowing smile crept onto his face.

    Their smugnesssted all of three seconds-until they noticed the man standing next to Citrine.

    "That vicious woman brought Sebastian-the bastard-along with her," Quentin snapped, practically throwing his binocrs onto the deck in frustration.

    The light in Hastings''s eyes faded as well. He pressed his lips together, saying nothing.

    Back on Citrine''s boat, they''d reached the deep-water zone and anchored.

    Citrine and Sebastian suited up, checking their equipment onest time. When they were ready, Citrine shed Sebastian an OK sign with her hand, her camera already in ce.

    With a ssh, they dove into the water together.

    It had been an entire lifetime since Citrinest went diving. Excitement bubbled up inside her. As she sank beneath the surface, all her worries melted away, reced by a sense of total freedom.

    Sebastian followed close behind, never letting her out of his sight.

    On the other boat, Hastings and Quentin watched with darkening expressions.

    Hastings, in particr, looked downright grim. The sight of Citrine diving with another man hit him harder than he cared to admit.

    He grabbed his own gear and started suiting up.

    Quentin noticed and called out, "What are you doing?"

    "Going diving," Hastings replied, not missing a beat as he buckled his straps.

    Quentin almostughed in disbelief. "If you really want to dive, fine. But let''s be honest-you''re just upset about Citrine. You''re not in the right headspace for this. You could get yourself killed down there.

    "I''ll be fine,¡± Hastings said, his tone resolute.

    Seeing the determination in his

    friend''s eyes, Quentin grew serious

    too. "Hastings, you''re not

    straight. Diving when you''re

    emotional is dangerous. If

    something goes wrong underwater,

    that''s it. Don''t risk your life over this."

    "Save your breath. I''ve made up my mind," Hastings replied, already done with his

    gear.

    Without another word, he jumped straight into the water.

 Chapter 739

    Citrine moved through the water with the grace of a mermaid-effortless, radiant, andpletely at home beneath the waves.

    Behind her, Sebastian couldn''t hide the awe in his eyes as he watched her glide through the blue expanse. For once, he didn''t even have to try to conceal how captivated he was.

    The world under the sea was dazzling. Vivid coral formations, seashells glinting in the filtered sunlight, and creatures in every color imaginable-these were sights thend could never offer.

    Citrine was bubbling with excitement, eager to share her joy with someone else. When she surfaced near Sebastian, she beckoned him over with a yful wave of her hand.

    He swam to her side without hesitation.

    She pointed at a cluster of brilliant coral, her eyes crinkling with delight as she looked at him. In that moment, Sebastian seemed to feel her happiness as if it were his own.

    Then a school of colorful fish darted by, scattering rainbows through the water. Citrine''s eyes sparkled. She slipped the waterproof camera from around her neck and handed it to Sebastian, forming a picture frame with her fingers to show what she wanted.

    Sebastian understood instantly and shed her an OK sign.

    With a quick smile, Citrine turned and swam toward the swirling fish, her slender form cutting gracefully through the water.

    Sebastian''s gaze softened, and he raised the camera to capture her-preserving that perfect, breathtaking moment forever.

    In the photos, she looked ethereal: slender and delicate, weaving through the fish like a mermaid born of the deep, beautiful enough to steal the breath from his lungs.

    He snapped more pictures, even switching to video to record herughter and the way the sunlight danced on her hair.

    When they''d taken enough, Citrine took the camera and insisted on getting some shots of Sebastian, too.

    Finally, she suggested they take a selfie together. No matter what pose she struck, Sebastian was happy to follow her lead, matching her energy, grinning for the camera.

    That was when Hastings dove beneath the surface and saw them together. The way they moved so close, so natural-left no doubt. They looked just like any couple in love, sharing a world of their own.

    Jealousy twisted inside Hastings, hot and sharp. Anger thudded in his chest, impossible to suppress.

    He swam toward them, his temper overriding all sense. Without warning, he grabbed Sebastian and yanked him away from Citrine with a force that sent Sebastian tumbling downward, struggling to regain his bnce.

    Citrine''s brow furrowed as she shot Hastings a withering re-her eyes sharp as

    des, making it clear how she felt, even without words.

    Hastings didn''t need to guess; he could sense her me.

    Trying to y it off, he gestured at Citrine: pointing off to the side, miming that there were more beautiful fish in that direction.

    He''d dived in these waters before, years ago, so he knew the reefs better than anyone.

    As he spoke, he swam closer, reaching out as if to wrap an arm around her waist. Citrine instantly pulled back, her expression unmistakably resistant.

    Sebastian''s face darkened; anger shed in his eyes. He swam to Citrine''s side, cing himself between her and Hastings in one swift motion.

    Hastings had never liked

    Sebastian-he was already a thorn in

    his side and seeing him now only fanned the mes. He lunged, trying

    sebastian away.

    This time, Sebastian was ready. With a quick twist, he easily dodged Hastings''s

    hand.

    Citrine''s expression changed as she

    watched the two men squaring off. Fighting in the ocean was dangerous-one wrong move and something terrible could happen. Thest thing she needed was for either of them to get hurt because of a stupid rivalry.

    She quickly signaled with her hands: "Stop fighting. It''s dangerous."

    Hastings saw her gesture and, misreading her concern as something for Sebastian, felt his anger spike even higher.

    But for all his frustration, he could never bring himself to be angry with Citrine. Instead, all that resentment turned back on Sebastian-sharper than ever.

 Chapter 740

    Seeing that Hastings was acting strangely, Citrine grew anxious something might go wrong. She turned, signaling to Sebastian, "Let''s head back."

    Sebastian nced at Hastings, then nodded at Citrine.

    "Come on," she signed again.

    Without another look at Hastings, Citrine swam upward, steady and determined. Sebastian followed right behind her.

    The two of them treated Hastings as if he didn''t exist, not sparing him even a nce.

    Watching their silhouettes rise toward the surface together, Hastings'' expression darkened, his face twisted with resentment.

    He hade all the way down here just to find her, and yet she couldn''t even be bothered to look his way. All she saw was Sebastian.

    A heavy, burning anger settled in Hastings'' gut, drowning out all reason.

    Suddenly, he surged upward, eyes locked fiercely on Sebastian.

    Sebastian, focused on keeping up with Citrine, didn''t notice anything amiss-until a sharp pain mped around his ankle. In an instant, he was yanked downward, plunging toward the ocean floor.

    Watching Sebastian''s body sink, Hastings felt a wicked satisfaction bloom inside him. A trace of triumph flickered across his face.

    It was only then that Citrine sensed something was wrong. She turned, just in time

    to see Sebastian''s limp form drifting downward, his face ck and pale.

    Citrine''s heart jumped into her throat. Without hesitation, she spun around and darted back down.

    Hastings, seeing her intent, spread his arms out, blocking her path.

    He gestured sharply, "Don''t go. He''ll make it up on his own."

    He''d only wanted to teach Sebastian a lesson-he never thought things would go

    so far. Sebastian wasn''t that fragile, he thought.

    But Citrine stared him down, face grim, and slipped past him with a swift, determined kick.

    When she reached the ocean floor, Sebastian was motionless, his eyes closed, not a hint of movement left in him.

    Panic surged through her as she pulled him upright-and noticed, with horror, that his oxygen tank was gone.

    There was no time to think. Instinct took over. Citrine immediately unfastened her own oxygen tank, shoving it and her gear onto him.

    Above them, Hastings'' eyes went wide with shock. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white All he could do was watch helplessly as the woman he loved risked her life, sacrificing her own oxygen for another man.

    The ache in his chest was unbearable. If Citrine''s cold words before had sliced him like a knife, this moment was a sword driven straight through his heart.

    Lack of oxygen was all that had knocked Sebastian out, so the moment air flowed into his lungs again, he slowly came to.

    He opened his eyes and saw her¡ªthe wless, beautiful face of Citrine, so close he could feel her breath.

    She had given him everything-her oxygen, her gear. Realization dawned as he felt the mask on his face.

    His expression clouded with distress, and he immediately reached to take the oxygen tank off. Citrine quickly stopped him, keeping his hands away.

    Sebastian knew the risks of diving all too well. He wasn''t about to let her endanger herself for his sake. But as held him back, he signedb

    she

    DAS

    e tank, you''ll

    urgently, "No. Without the t

    die."

    Afraid she wouldn''t listen, he gestured frantically, "Please. Take the oxygen and

    go to the surface. Leave me. Once you''re safe, send help."

    His signing was frantic and clumsy, but somehow Citrine understood every word. Maybe it was instinct, maybe something deeper-a silent understanding that connected them in ways words never could.

 Chapter 741

    Citrine didn''t say a word. She just looked at him, steady and unwavering, her heart stirring ever so slightly.

    Most people, faced with a situation like this, would think of themselves first. But not him.

    Citrine''s silence made Sebastian anxious. He reached out, fumbling for the oxygen tank strapped to his side, determined to hand it to her. But as soon as his fingers brushed the tank, a soft, warm hand covered his.

    Startled, Sebastian looked up and found Citrine watching him intently.

    She signed to him gently, as if trying to reassure a child: "Don''t worry. I''m not going to die."

    Done, she pointed upward and continued signing, her intention clear: "We''ll go up together."

    Sebastian saw the resolve in her eyes, and considering how long she had already endured underwater, he guessed she was probably a professional freediver. That thought eased his nerves a little.

    After a brief hesitation, he nodded at her.

    Citrine smiled faintly and reached her hand out to him.

    Sebastian, feeling both surprised and humbled by the gesture, took her hand carefully, afraid to hold on too tightly.

    They exchanged a nce, then kicked upward, swimming toward the surface.

    In her previous life and this one, freediving was second nature to Citrine. She''d helped recover countless artifacts for her country-diving without equipment was as familiar to her as walking down the street.

    Still, worry eventually outweighed his irritation. Hastings, afraid something might happen to Citrine, spread his arms in the water to block her and Sebastian''s path.

    He tried to unclip his oxygen tank to give it to Citrine, but the moment his hand touched it, Citrine pushed him away without hesitation, towing Sebastian with her as she shot toward the surface.

    Citrine was a powerful swimmer, and the two of them broke through the water in no time, gasping for air.

    Back on deck, Citrine doubled over, coughing hard.

    Sebastian rushed to her side, all caution forgotten. He helped her sit up, gently patting her back until she finally managed to expel thest of the water from her lungs.

    "Are you alright? Feeling any better?" Sebastian asked, anxiety etched across his face.

    Citrine, her breath returning, managed a quick exnation between coughs. "I''m fine. Just swallowed some water, that''s all."

    Meanwhile, on another boat nearby,

    Quentin''s face had grown

    increasingly tense. He scanned the

    water in panic, searching for any ne

    sign of movement. When none

    appeared, he turned his attention to Citrine and Sebastian.

    "Where''s Hastings? Why isn''t he up yet?" Quentin''s voice was tight with worry.

    Citrine met his gaze, her expression serious. "Something''s off with him. I don''t know what got into his head, but he''s not acting right. You''d better go check on him before anything happens."

    It was rare for Quentin to hear Citrine speak so directly. He didn''t argue-just grabbed his gear and dove into the water.

    Once he was gone, Citrine finally looked away, only to realize Sebastian was still staring at her.

    She nced over her shoulder, instantly guessing what was on his mind.

    With a wry smile, she asked, "You don''t seriously think I''m worried about Hastings, do you?"

    Sebastian gave a strained, bitter smile. ¡°Isn''t that it? Anyone would feel something, seeing him like that."

    Citrine was quiet for a moment before she spoke, her voice calm and even. "Personally, I can''t stand Hastings. Honestly, ''hate'' might not even be a strong enough word. But objectively, he''s a member of the Vermillion Vanguard-an exemry officer, a capable leader. Maybe, one day, he''ll be a greatmander. So yes, I''m concerned about him, but not for his sake-for the people who depend on him."

    ¡°I do hate him. I resent him, sometimes so much I wish he''d just disappear. But I know, better than anyone, that if he dies, it should be on the battlefield, for a cause, not like this."

 Chapter 742

    Sebastian stared at Citrine, her words echoing in his mind long after she''d

    finished speaking. It felt as though something inside him was about to burst, his heart pounding so fast he could hardly breathe.

    He couldn''t tear his eyes away from her. "You''re right," he finally said, voice low but certain.

    He admired her deeply-for her vision, herpassion. He knew, too, that he would never be able to match her, not really.

    In that instant, Sebastian understood why so many people were drawn to Citrine, why they fell so easily under her spell. She was worth it, in and simple.

    By the time Citrine and Sebastian reemerged from below deck, each in a dry change of clothes, they found Quentin surfacing near the boat, dragging Hastings with him.

    Quentin''s face was drawn and serious. He barely spared them a nce before shouting, "Give me a hand! Hurry!"

    With his eyes squeezed shut and several fresh cuts on his arms, Quentin looked more battered than either of them had ever seen. Citrine took one look at the situation and was at the railing in an instant, Sebastian right behind her.

    "Give me his arm!" she called, reaching out to Quentin.

    Sebastian moved into position, bracing himself to help.

    Quentin, not wasting a second, hauled Hastings up and passed his limp body to them before mbering onto the boat himself, drenched and out of breath.

    "I ran out of air down there," Quentin said quickly, voice tight with worry. "Hastings passed out against the rocks-he waspletely unresponsive."

    Citrine ignored him, turning her focus fully to Hastings. "Lay him t," she ordered Sebastian.

    Sebastianplied without hesitation.

    "Hastings," Citrine called out, her voice sharp, trying to rouse him. When he didn''t respond, she immediately started CPR.

    Ten seconds passed, then fifteen-until Hastings suddenly choked and coughed up seawater, his eyes flying open.

    As soon as he came to, Citrine quietly stepped aside to give him space.

    Disoriented, Hastings blinked up at the faces around him. The first person he saw was Citrine, and he immediately assumed she''d saved his life.

    His gaze locked on her, intense and grateful. He struggled to sit up, still breathing hard. "Citrine, I knew you wouldn''t just leave me," he said, voice thick with emotion. "You must care about me at least a little, right?"

    "Hastings, do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound right now?" Citrine''s voice was icy, her expression stony as she looked down at him. "You''re hopeless."

    Quentin, who had been watching this exchange with growing exasperation, finally spoke up. "Buddy, I''m the one who dragged you out from the bottom of the

    het

    ocean," he said tly. "She just gave you CPR."

    The others watched, expecting Hastings to be embarrassed by his mistake. But instead, he just grinned, his eyes shining with something like triumph. ¡°Citrine, I knew you

    over

    wouldn''t give up on me. Thank you for saving my life."

    Quentin let out a sound of disbelief. "So I guess all my effort counts for nothing, huh?"

    Citrine opened her mouth, but for once, words failed her.

    "Seriously, man!" Quentin groaned. "I nearly drowned getting you up here-can''t

    you at least acknowledge my existence?"

    He looked between his two friends, shaking his head. Between Theo and Hastings, it was hard to say which one was more hopelessly smitten. Whatever spell Citrine had cast over them, it was clearly unbreakable.

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 Chapter 743

    Hastings Cooper did his best not to dwell on the fact that, under the sea, Citrine had given her own oxygen tank to Sebastian Vesper.

    He looked at her intently and said, "Citrine, you were still willing to save me. I knew you couldn''t be that heartless toward me."

    Citrine was at a loss for words. She took a few steps back, putting more distance between them, and forced a half-smile. "Hastings, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror. The way you look right now is really not doing you any favors."

    She was quickly running out of patience. "Alright, that''s enough. Please, both of you, head back to your own boat."

    Hastings'' face darkened, and he couldn''t keep lying to himself or ignore what Citrine had done-risking her life underwater to give her oxygen tank to Sebastian.

    He shot Sebastian a re full of resentment and jealousy.

    Citrine caught the look in his eyes and her expression turned cold, a warning clear in her voice. "Hastings, you''re a member of the Vermillion Vanguard. Your duty is to the people first, before yourself. Protecting others is your mission. Next time you make a decision, I suggest you remember who you are and whether you''re living up to the responsibility that uniform represents."

    Her words snapped Hastings out of it. Only then did he realize how out of control his emotions had been today, and how close he''de to making a terrible mistake.

    He cast onest, reluctant look at Citrine before turning to Quentin Aldridge beside him. "Quentin, let''s go back to the boat."

    Quentin nced at Citrine but said nothing.

    Once the two of them had left, only Citrine and Sebastian remained on the boat.

    As they made their way back, Sebastian hesitated for a moment before breaking the silence.

    "Thank you for giving me your oxygen tank."

    He was still reeling from what had happened In a life-or-death moment like that, not even family or friends would necessarily go so far, but she had handed over her tank without a second thought.

    His heart was pounding-gratitude and something far stronger surging inside him.

    Hearing his words, Citrine suddenly turned to look at him. Their eyes met, and the heat in Sebastian''s gaze nearly scorched her.

    She forced herself to look away, feigningposure. "Don''t mention it. I used to do a lot of free diving, so I''m pretty familiar with the ocean down there."

    But the real reason went deeper. She had once been part of the Vermillion Vanguard herself; the instinct to save people was etched into her very bones.

    "Either way, you saved my life." Sebastian''s lips curved into a smile. No matter what she said, he couldn''t suppress the rush of emotion in his chest.

    By the time they returned to the ind, Citrine was utterly exhausted. The two of them parted ways and headed back to their own hotels.

    She barely managed to shower before copsing onto the bed, sleeping straight through from dusk until the next morning.

    If it hadn''t been for the knock at her door, Citrine doubted she would have woken at all.

    She quickly threw on some clothes and opened the door. Looking up, she found Sebastian standing there, his gaze gentle.

    "It''s already noon," he said softly. "I saw you weren''t up yet, so I ordered lunch for you."

    Her hair was a tangled mess, falling down her back, and she was still half-lost in sleep as she blinked at him in a daze.

 Chapter 744

    Sebastian could tell she''d just woken up. "Is now a good time toe in?" he asked softly.

    Citrine nodded and stepped aside to let him in. Sebastian gestured for the room service staff behind him to bring in the breakfast.

    Once the staff had left, Citrine asked, "Have you eaten yet?"

    "I ha¡ª¡± Sebastian started, but changed his mind mid-sentence. He coughed awkwardly and admitted, "Actually, no, not yet."

    He looked a little sheepish and avoided meeting her eyes.

    Citrine didn''t think too much of it, assuming he genuinely hadn''t had breakfast, so she invited him in. "Come on, let''s eat together."

    Sebastian nodded.

    "You go ahead and start. I''ll just freshen up," Citrine said, heading straight for the bathroom.

    She brushed her teeth and sshed some water on her face, then came out a few minutester. When she returned, Sebastian was still sitting at the table, but hadn''t touched his food.

    "Why aren''t you eating?" she asked with a smile.

    Sebastian looked up at her, sincerity in his eyes. "I was waiting for you."

    It was such a simple thing to say, yet somehow, it made something warm bloom in Citrine''s chest.

    She gathered her hair into a loose ponytail, then sat down across from him.

    "Let''s eat," she said, breaking the moment.

    Seeing her pick up her fork, Sebastian finally reached for his own.

    Citrine was genuinely hungry and tucked into her food eagerly, barely pausing to breathe. Sebastian, on the other hand, seemed more interested in watching her than eating his own meal.

    Once she''d had her fill, Citrine finally had the energy to make small talk. "By the way, what''s Carlotta Yarbrough and the rest up to today?"

    Sebastian hesitated a moment, then answered, "They went out jet skiing."

    Citrine just nodded, leaving it at that.

    For a brief moment, she wondered if she was being left out-if she hadn''t been their boss, she might have felt excluded. The thought flickered and faded.

    Suddenly, Sebastian spoke up. "I heard there''s an ind nearby Azure Isle. Supposedly gorgeous, and only an hour away by yacht. Want to check it out?"

    "Azure Isle?" Citrine echoed.

    He nodded.

    She considered it for a moment, then said, "Sure, why not? I''ve tried just about everything here anyway." Jet skiing wasn''t really her thing.

    Decision made, she finished her breakfast, went back to her room and changed into a light sundress with a floral print. She added a touch of makeup, then headed overto knock on Sebastian''s door

    "All set?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe.

    Sebastian need at her. The sundress showed off her pale shoulders and arms, and for a second, he was speechless. He quickly checked the weather of his phone, grabbed a jacket from his closet, and tucked it into his bag. "Ready when you are," he said with a grin.

    They headed out together and boarded the yacht for Azure Isle.

    An hourter, they arrived at their destination.

    As they stepped off the boat, Sebastian looked around and asked, "What do you think? Not bad, right?"

    Citrine nodded, taking in the rugged cliffs and lush greenery. "It''s beautiful.¡±

    Compared to Whisperwind Cay,

    Azure Isle was wilder and more dramatic, with amodations perched up in the hills. Each ind had it own unique charm, and for Citrine, the trip was already more than worth it.

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 Chapter 745

    The scenery on Azure Isle was breathtaking-so beautiful that it felt like a crime not to capture it.

    Citrine led Sebastian Vesper down to the lighthouse by the sea. Handing him her camera, she grinned, "Here, take a few nice pictures of me, will you?"

    "Of course." Sebastian took the camera without hesitation, his expression soft with affection.

    Citrine struck a few casual poses beneath the lighthouse, changing them up easily. Sebastian bent slightly to find the perfect angle, snapping away.

    "Perfect."

    "Beautiful."

    "Chin down a bit."

    After each shot, he offered a word of encouragement, asionally suggesting a small adjustment. His tone was always gentle, never impatient.

    Nearby, a couple was having a much less pleasant experience. The girl scrolled through her boyfriend''s attempts at photography, her face growing stormy.

    "What is this? I look awful. Forget it, I''m done," she snapped, turning to walk away.

    Her boyfriend rolled his eyes behind her back, grumbling under his breath, ¡°That''s just how you look. What do you want me to do¡ªmake you look like a movie star? Give me a break."

    Despite his irritation, a few secondster he hurried after her.

    Watching the scene unfold, Citrine realized it was the first time she truly noticed how patient Sebastian was with her. No matter what, his temper never seemed to re around her.

    Once they''d taken enough photos, Sebastian waved her over. "All right,e take a look."

    Citrine walked up and took the camera from his hands. As she flipped through the photos, her face shifted from cool indifference to delighted surprise. Every picture was gorgeous, the style andposition exactly what she''d hoped for.

    She didn''t even bother looking through the rest; she''d already seen enough to know she''d be happy with all of them.

    Grinning at Sebastian, she teased, "With skills like yours, it''s a waste not to be a professional photographer."

    He smiled back, eyes earnest. "If you ever need one, I''ll be your personal photographer."

    Just for you.

    Citrineughed and waved him off. "That''s far too much talent wasted."

    Sebastian thought to himself: it wouldn''t be a waste at all. He''d do it dly. But he kept those words to himself.

    It was still early, so they wandered off to see more of the ind. The scenery was so enchanting that they lost track of time entirely.

    By the time they thought to head back, thest ferry had already departed-they were officially stranded for the night.

    Not that you could me them. If anything, the ind grew more magical as evening set in. Lights flickered on in the hotels and

    guesthouses, dotting the dark

    like stars scattered across the night. The whole ce looked mysterious and one-of-a-kind.

    Sebastian took in the view before speaking. "There are inns and hotels here. We''ll

    just have to stay the night."

    "Alright." Citrine nodded. There wasn''t much choice.

    The ocean air was chilly after dark, and the wind whipped around them, making Citrine shiver. Sebastian noticed and, without a word, pulled a jacket from his bag and draped it over her shoulders.

    "It gets cold at night. Don''t catch a cold," he said gently.

    Citrine blinked, a little taken aback, then sniffed and smiled. "Thank you."

    She really was cold, so she didn''t bother with false modesty.

    Apparently, they weren''t the only ones stuck for the night-the ind was crowded with tourists, and every inn and hotel they tried was fully booked.

    Citrine nced helplessly at the endless stretch of beach and sighed, half-joking,

    "Are we going to end up sleeping on the sand tonight?"

    Sebastian scrolled through booking apps on his phone, but every hotel on the ind showed up as sold out.

 Chapter 746

    He was just about to speak when something on his phone screen suddenly changed.

    The hotel app he''d been checking now showed a vacant room.

    "There''s one avable," Sebastian said, his eyes lighting up.

    Without hesitation, he clicked to book it, but the screen shed a message- reservation unsessful.

    "What''s going on?" he muttered.

    Sebastian tried a few more times, but each attempt failed.

    Citrine thought for a moment. "Maybe there''s a glitch with their system?"

    She suggested, "Why don''t we just go there and ask? Looks like it''s not far from here."

    "Yeah, let''s do that." At this point, they didn''t have much choice.

    They walked for about ten minutes before finally arriving at the hotel with the supposed vacancy.

    Inside, Sebastian handed his ID to the front desk. "Hi, we''d like to book yourst avable room."

    The owner looked apologetic, worry lines creasing his face. "I''m so sorry, but we''repletely full tonight."

    Citrine stepped forward. "But your app says there''s still a room left."

    The owner gave an embarrassed smile. "Ah, that''s just a glitch in our booking

    system. There aren''t actually any rooms left."

    Sebastian pulled out his wallet. "Is there really nothing at all? Even a staff room or something-any price is fine."

    Citrine nodded in agreement.

    The owner shook his head. "I''m afraid I only have my own ce in the back, and that''s just a single room. There''s nothing else, sorry."

    Citrine and Sebastian exchanged nces, their hope fading.

    They thanked the owner politely. "Thank you anyway."

    They turned to leave.

    Watching them go, the owner

    ncing out at the chilket

    evening breezeing in from the

    Sean &

    His conscience got the

    of

    him.

    "Wait, you two-hold on a second."

    Citrine and Sebastian spun around at once, eyes fixed on him.

    From under the counter, the owner pulled out a folding tent and ced it on the desk.

    "This is the only tent I''ve got, but if you don''t mind, you''re wee to use it tonight."

    Citrine and Sebastian looked at each other, relief and delight shing across their faces. "Thank you so much!"

    Once the surprise wore off, Sebastian calmed himself and asked, "How much do we owe you for the tent?"

    The owner smiled. "Don''t worry about it. Just bring it back tomorrow morning, that''s all."

    "We can''t just borrow it for nothing. We really appreciate your help," Sebastian insisted, cing a few bills on the counter.

    Citrine smiled too. "Yes, we can''t just use your tent for free."

    Seeing their insistence, the owner realized these two weren''t the type to take advantage. He finally epted the money with a chuckle.

    He nced at them, then grabbed a few bottles of water and some basic supplies

    from the shelf, packing them into a stic bag.

    "Here these are for you. Hope you have a good night out there."

    "Thank you," they both replied.

    Gathering up the tent and supplies, they left the hotel.

    Outside, they stopped at a nearby store to pick up bedding, then finally made their way to the beach.

    Not wanting to deal with crowds in the morning, they found a quiet spot to pitch their tent.

    Citrine, who''d spent plenty of nights camping out during her time in the military, made short work of setting up. Sebastian hadn''t served, but he''d been on enough school camping trips to know his way around a tent.

    Working together, they had the tent up in no time.

    Next came the bedding. Citrine was just

    Scrawl inside when stopped her. "Let mel.ne

    stand there and supervise.¡±

    do it.

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 Chapter 747

    Sebastian finished making up the bed before calling Citrine inside.

    He broke the silence first, his tone steady but gentle. "You''ll sleep here tonight. I''ll keep watch outside."

    With that, he stood, ready to leave.

    The air on the ind was chilly at night, and their tent was pitched right on the beach, just a few yards from the water. One good gust of wind and anyone sleeping outside would definitely catch a cold.

    Citrine spoke up quickly, stopping him. "The tent is big enough for both of us. It''s windy out there¡ªyou should stay inside too."

    She didn''t wait for an argument. Instead, she scooted over, making space on the other side of the bedroll.

    Her offer was so matter-of-fact and sincere that Sebastian hesitated. She wasn''t watching him with even a hint of wariness-just open trust. He paused at the entrance, concern flickering in his eyes. "You trust me that much? Aren''t you worried I might try something?"

    Was she really that naive around guys?

    Citrineughed softly, amused. "You''re not that kind of person."

    He pressed, "And if I was?"

    She thought about it, lips pursed. "Then I''d handle it."

    If it came to that, she was pretty sure she could take him in a fight.

    Sebastian couldn''t help but smile at her confidence. Thest of his worries eased.

    Citrine patted the empty spot beside her. "Come on, get in."

    He didn''t argue further, just slipped off his shoes and crawled into the tent.

    The space was just big enough for two. It felt strangely cozy.

    After a moment, Citrine realized she was thirsty Remembering that the shop owner had given them some bottled water, she reached for the bag by her feet, pulled out a bottle for herself, and handed another to Sebastian.

    Once they finished drinking, Citrine dumped out the rest of the bag''s contents, curious. "Let''s see what else we''ve got," she murmured, sorting through the items one by one.

    Suddenly, her hand closed around a small square box. She picked it up, peering at thebel. "Ultra-thin..." she read aloud, trailing off as she recognized the rest of the words. Her cheeks flushed scarlet, and she mped her mouth shut.

    Sebastian, hearing her stop mid-sentence, looked over. "What is it?"

    "N-nothing!" Citrine stammered, hastily shoving the little box under her pillow.

    She cleared her throat and changed the subject in a rush. "We should get some sleep."

    Sebastian hesitated, then edged closer.

    The tent was cramped, and now they were just inches apart.

    He was about to say something when the light from his phone shlight flickered and died, plunging them into darkness.

    In the sudden quiet, the only sounds were their breathing and the steady thump of two nervous heartbeats.

    Citrine fumbled for her phone, pressing the buttons, but nothing happened. She sighed and set it aside. "Mine''s out of battery. Can you check yours?"

    Sebastian remembered his phone was somewhere in his backpack. He started feeling around in the dark, hands brushing over bags and nkets, but he couldn''t find it.

    Citrine offered, "Let me help."

    Together, they searched-hands reaching and missing, bumping into each other in the ckness. Citrine stretched across the bed, feeling for the bag. Suddenly, her hand caught on something soft-the nket-and she lost her bnce, tumbling forward.

    "Ah-!" she yelped.

    Sebastian whipped around at the sound, reaching out to steady her, but before he

    could react, Citrinended right on top of him.

 Chapter 748

    Sebastiannded heavily on the mattress, letting out a muffled groan.

    In that instant, their lips collided.

    Time seemed to freeze.

    In the darkness, they were so close that Citrine could feel his warm breath tracing along her ear.

    Her eyes flew wide, her mind wipedpletely nk.

    Sebastian was even more stunned, frozen in ce. They were pressed tightly together, and as he registered the softness of her lips, his heart pounded wildly, his breathing turning rapid and uneven.

    He drew a shaky breath before letting out a low, awkwardugh, his voice soft and gentle. "Are you just going to lie here all night?"

    "Your hand-" Citrine turned her face away in a hurry.

    Only then did Sebastian realize where his hand was firmly gripping her slender waist. He immediately let go, stammering, "Sorry, I didn''t mean¡ª"

    If it weren''t so dark, she would have seen the tips of his ears burning scarlet.

    Slowly, Citrine pushed herself off his chest, about to get up, but her knee brushed against something. She pressed her lips together, instantly realizing what it was. Her cheeks med.

    Sebastian let out another stifled groan, his voice low and husky. "Easy... try not to move so much."

    "Sorry," she whispered, swallowing hard, mortified by what she''d just done. She hardly dared to breathe, much less move again.

    Sebastian sat up, gathering her gently and setting her beside him.

    He''d thought maybe the sudden rush of heat between them would fade once they calmed down, but instead, the memory of that idental kiss only made his heart race faster.

    Citrine looked calm on the outside, but inside, her heart was an uncontroble thunder.

    She wanted to hold herself together, but this time, she simply couldn''t.

    Silence stretched between them in the dark, drawing out the awkward tension. Finally, Citrine broke it.

    "My phone... Let me see if I can find it."

    Sebastian quickly fumbled through his bag and pulled out his phone.

    "Great, mine''s dead too."

    Citrine pressed her lips together. "Well, looks like we''ll have to make do for the night."

    "It''ste anyway. We should try to get some sleep." She flipped back the covers and climbed into bed first.

    Sebastiandingered at the edge of the

    mattress.

    for

    She couldn''t see him, and moment, there

    , no movement from 918

    his side.

    She thought maybe he was embarrassed, so after a pause, she lifted the other

    side of the nket. "Come on, it''ste. Just lie down."

    Sebastian''s heart gave a little jolt, but in the end, he got in beside her.

    Lying side by side in the darkness, he suddenly spoke up. "Citrine, when we get back, I''m resigning from CICI Group."

    She stiffened. "Why?" Before, she''d urged him to leave, but he''d refused. Now, suddenly, he was the one bringing it up.

    She''d always known he''d leave

    sooner orter, but she hadn''t

    expected it to be so soon. The

    realization stirred something bittersweet inside her.

    Sebastian smiled, ying it off. "If you get too close to the moon, it''s easy to start thinking you can touch the light."

    He knew she had at least a little affection for him. He said it half in hope, half in challenge he wanted to see how she''d respond.

    Citrine didn''t answer right away.

    She''d always understood how he felt about her, and she''d used that affection more than once.

    But what did he mean by this?

    Was he saying he didn''t want to love her anymore?

    Her brow furrowed, and for the first time, she realized that his words left a strange ache in her

    chest-something she couldn''t quite name, but it wasn''t pleasant at all.

 Chapter 749

    Citrine was silent for a while, but eventually she gave in and nodded.

    Sebastian just smiled, saying nothing, and an awkward tension settled between them.

    After a long pause, Sebastian finally broke the silence. "It''s gettingte. You should try to get some sleep."

    Citrine didn''t reply. She was exhausted after the long day, and her eyelids grew heavier until, before she knew it, she drifted off.

    Sebastian waited, listening for her voice, but after a while, the only sound was her steady, peaceful breathing.

    "Completely carefree, aren''t you?" he murmured with a quietugh.

    With that, hey down as well.

    The beach at night was perfectly still, the only sound the gentle hush of the waves outside. Lying there, Sebastian became acutely aware of Citrine''s soft breathing beside him.

    He couldn''t see anything in the pitch-dark tent, so he turned carefully onto his side, facing her.

    Sleep seemed impossible. With her sleeping so close, his mind was racing and his heart wouldn''t settle. He wished this moment couldst a little longer.

    It wasn''t until the dead of night that tiredness finally began to creep in. Just as he was about to drift off, something warm and soft suddenly rolled up against his chest.

    A fuzzy head nudged restlessly at him, tickling his skin as she burrowed closer.

    The sensation made his heart flutter. He reached out, intending to gently straighten her head, but before he could, Citrine pressed even closer, as if she''d found her perfect source of warmth.

    Sebastian froze, every muscle tense. He stared wide-eyed into the darkness, feeling her breath on his neck, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst from his chest.

    For a moment, he honestly didn''t know where to put his hands.

    It was cold-well past midnight now-and the thin nket they shared did little to keep the chill away. After hesitating, Sebastian finally relented, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

    Morning arrived softly, dawn light slipping in through the tent''s seams. Citrine woke slowly, blinking against the pale glow. She shifted, trying to sit up, but the movement felt off.

    She turned her head-and her eyes widened in shock.

    She was nestled right up against Sebastian, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Theyy together like a pair of lovers.

    Citrine pressed her lips together and, heart pounding, reached out tentatively as if caught in the act.

    Just as her hand was about to touch him, Sebastian''s eyes fluttered open.

    He caught her gaze, and she looked away, cheeks burning.

    Sebastian''s lips curled into a faint, amused smile as he regarded her. "It was freezingst night," he said lightly. "You kept snuggling closer. I tried to resist, but you were pretty persistent."

    Citrine''s eyes went wide. She wanted to protest, but then she remembered her notoriously restless sleeping habits.

    This must have been her fault.

    Embarrassed, she lowered her gaze, unable to meet Sebastian''s eyes. "Sorry... I''m a terrible sleeper. I really didn''t mean to take advantage of you."

    Seeing her so humbled and apologetic was a rare sight. Sebastian found it oddly endearing.

    He deliberately let his gaze linger on her before speaking, a teasing glint in his eye, "Well, you did take advantage of me. Don''t you think you owe me something?" His tone was yful, but there was a hint of something deeper beneath the words.

    Citrine stared at him, still groggy and confused.

    Owe him? Was he actually suggesting...

    Was he asking her to take responsibility?

    That couldn''t be. She met his gaze, searching his expression, and finally blurted out, "Nothing happened We just. ended up tangled together, that''s all."

    Awkwardly, she added, "Don''t get any ideas, okay? I''m not going to take responsibility for you."

    With that, she decisively lifted his arm, wriggled out of his embrace, and sat up, putting a safe distance between them.

 Chapter 750

    The warmth in Sebastian''s arms had faded, and he found himself oddly

    unustomed to the emptiness.

    He looked up to see Citrine watching him warily, which made Sebastian chuckle in spite of himself. "Do you know what you look like right now?"

    Citrine sat up on the bed, nonchntly fixing her clothes. "What do I look like?"

    Sebastian grinned. "A runaway heartbreaker."

    At that, Citrine couldn''t help butugh as well.

    They chatted for a few more moments before Citrine finally said, "Alright, time to

    pull ourselves together and return the tent to the owner."

    Sebastian nced at the mess of tangled sheets and nkets. "You wait outside. I''ll handle the cleaning up in here."

    "Sure." Citrine yawned, not bothering to be polite.

    She slipped out of the tent.

    It was barely seven. The beach was nearly deserted, so quiet that only the steady rush of waves could be heard.

    The tranquil air and coolness of the early morning made Citrine feelpletely at

    ease.

    Inside, Sebastian was folding the nkets when he noticed a small, square box tucked under the pillow.

    "What''s this?" he muttered, pulling it out.

    Citrine, hearing his voice, lifted the tent p just then. "What did you say?"

    Sebastian stared at the object in his hand, suddenly recalling Citrine''s awkwardness the night before. He felt a bit embarrassed.

    Citrine caught sight of what he was holding and froze, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she remembered hastily stashing it under the pillowst night.

    Their eyes met, both of them unsure who should feel more mortified.

    Finally, Citrine broke the silence, hurrying to exin as if afraid of being misunderstood. "That was a gift from the owner yesterday."

    "Right, I''ll just... keep it," Sebastian replied, doing his best to sound casual as he stuffed the box into his pocket.

    Citrine quickly let the tent p fall and turned her back, pretending to watch the waves as if nothing had happened.

    It took Sebastian a while to tidy up the rest of the things inside. Once he finished, he stepped out and began dismantling the tent.

    When everything was finally packed up, he said, "Let''s go return the tent."

    Citrine nodded, her face back to normal.

    They carried their things to the hotel where the owner was waiting, a broad smile on his face as they approached.

    "How was your night?" he asked, grinning. "Did you sleep well?¡±

    Citrine smiled politely. "Thanks to your tent, we slept great."

    Sebastian echoed, "Yes, thank you."

    The owner munched on his breakfast, then leaned forward conspiratorially. ¡°By the way, I gave you quite the special somethingst night. It''s ourtest product how''d you like it?"

    At his words, both Citrine and Sebastian''s eyes widened in unison.

    Their faces flushed a deep red, and for a moment neither of them could find any words.

    Seeing their silence, the owner looked at Sebastian andughed. "Judging by your face, I hope I didn''t give you too few, did I?"

    Citrine swore she had never been

    more

    mbarrassed in her entire life.

    If there had been a hole nearby, she

    d have dly crawet

    into it.

    Sebastian''s expression was equally impossible to describe.

    He merely shook his head at the owner.

    The man chuckled, mistaking Sebastian''s difort for shyness. "As long as it

    was enough, that''s all that matters!"

    Sebastian: "..."

    Citrine: "..." What on earth is happening here?

    Citrine had no desire to linger. She shot Sebastian a desperate look and quickly said, "We''ll just leave your

    things here, sir. We''ve got

    somewhere to be, so we''ll get going now."

    With that, Citrine grabbed Sebastian''s arm and all but dragged him out of the

    hotel, fleeing the scene as fast as she could.

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 751

    Western Isles Resort & Spa.

    That morning, thepany staff gathered for breakfast, but neither Citrine nor Sebastian Vesper was anywhere to be seen.

    Someone finally turned to Carlotta Yarbrough. "Carlotta, have you seen President Carmichael or Mr. Vesper sincest night? They didn''te down this morning either."

    Carlotta had already found their absence strange. Hearing the question, she frowned slightly and offered a guess.

    "Maybe they''re still asleep."

    She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Citrine''s number.

    A momentter, an icy automated message yed: "Sorry, the number you are trying to reach is currently unavable."

    Carlotta''s frown deepened. She nced around at the others and asked, "Does anyone have Mr. Vesper''s number?"

    Everyone shook their heads.

    After a while, someone tried to reassure her. "Don''t worry, Carlotta. Since neither President Carmichael nor Mr. Vesper is here, they''re probably together. With Mr. Vesper around, I''m sure nothing''s wrong."

    Carlotta let out a breath,forted for now.

    Still, after breakfast, she decided to check if the two were in their rooms.

    As she reached Citrine''s door, she spotted Hastings Cooper and Quentin Aldridge standing nearby. Hastings leaned against the door frame, cigarette in hand, his expression unreadable. Quentin was glued to his phone, but his eyes kept darting toward Citrine''s door.

    Carlotta knew full well how much Citrine disliked these two, so she didn''t bother hiding her annoyance when she approached.

    "What are you two doing loitering outside Citrine''s room?"

    Hastings'' eyes flickered with recognition-he''d seen Carlotta before; she was Citrine''s assistant.

    "Was Citrine herest night?"

    The two of them had been waiting outside her door since the afternoon, but there''d been no sign of her. Even knocking had gotten no reply.

    Hastings, growing worried, had decided to wait all night. Quentin had reluctantly kept himpany.

    Carlotta shot them a nce and said coolly, "Citrine''s still resting. You should both leave. She definitely won''t want to see you first thing in the morning."

    "Are you sure she''s still in there?" Quentin''s eyes widened as if he''d seen a ghost.

    They''d been outside since yesterday afternoon and hadn''t glimpsed even a shadow of Citrine. Knocking on her door-nothing. Even Sebastian''s room next door had been silent.

    "They''re not inside?" Carlotta''s frown returned, unease prickling at her. Remembering the unanswered call, she felt a knot of worry tighten in her chest.

    one

    Hastingstched onto her words.

    "So Citrine and Sebastian have been together since yesterday?"

    Carlotta didn''t respond. Instead, she strode to Citrine''s door and pressed the bell

    for a long moment-no answer. She knocked hard, but still, nothing.

    She moved next door and rapped sharply on Sebastian''s door as well. No response.

    Her worry was growing. "Where could they have gone? Did something happen?" Hastings and Quentin exchanged uneasy looks, their faces suddenly serious.

    "I''m going to look for them." Carlotta didn''t wait for an answer-she hurried off down the hallway.

    Hastings and Quentin immediately followed.

    Just as Citrine and Sebastian were stepping out the front entrance of the hotel, Carlotta came rushing out, panic written on her face.

    Thinking something terrible had happened, Citrine frowned slightly and hurried over. "Carlotta, what''s wrong?"

    "Citrine! Where were you? I tried calling you this morning but your phone was off. I''d been knocking on your door forever and you weren''t there-I was worried sick!"

    Relief flooded Carlotta''s face as she saw Citrine standing before her, safe and unharmed.

    "So where did you two go?"

    Citrine replied, "Sebastian and I went over to the neighboring ind."

    A smile finally broke through Carlotta''s anxiety. "So you two were together all night and this morning?"

    Citrine looked a little flustered and dodged the question, just smiling. ¡°Carlotta, I''m starving. Could you order me some breakfast?"

    "Of course! I''ll take care of it right away," Carlotta answered, hurrying off.

    Now only Citrine and Sebastian remained, with Hastings and Quentin hovering a short distance away.

    Citrine ignored them, walking with Sebastian right past the pair.

    Hastings'' face twisted with frustration. He reached out to grab Citrine''s wrist, but before he could touch her, a strong hand caught his arm mid-motion.

 Chapter 752

    Sebastian gripped Hastings''s wrist hard, his tone sharp. "You want to lose that hand?"

    With that, he gave Hastings''s arm a rough shove, sending him stumbling back.

    Hastings''s face darkened, anger simmering just beneath the surface. Ignoring Sebastian, he turned his attention to Citrine. "Citrine, I waited for you all night. You never came back."

    His gaze swung back to Sebastian, brimming with usation. "Did you spend the whole night with him?"

    Just picturing the two of them togetherst night twisted something deep in Hastings''s chest.

    Citrine frowned, exasperated. "Hastings, what is wrong with you?" Sometimes she truly didn''t understand him. She''d made her feelings painfully clear, yet Hastings clung to her like a stubborn weed, refusing to take the hint.

    If she''d known he''d be this much trouble, she might have chosen a different way to make him suffer.

    She let out a sigh, her voice impatient. "Who I spend my time with and what I do are none of your business."

    Quentin, usually theid-back one, studied the pair seriously, his brow furrowed once he realized they''d spent the night together. For once, he dropped the act and spoke with rare severity. "Citrine Carmichael, is there any shame left in you? Sneaking around all night with a guy?"

    Sebastian''s hands balled into fists as he stepped forward, ready to throw a punch. Before he could, a gentle hand covered his, prying his fingers open one by one.

    She didn''t want him getting involved. Understanding her silent cue, Sebastian fell obediently quiet, ring at Quentin but staying put.

    Citrine shed Quentin a small, almost mocking smile. She stepped forward, and just as Quentin opened his mouth to speak, she grabbed his arm and flipped him over her shoulder without warning.

    Quentin hit the ground hard, the world spinning as hended t on his back. "God, my back!" he howled, clutching his waist, half-wailing, half-cursing.

    "There''s a price to pay for acting like a jerk, you know?" Citrine crossed her arms, smirking as she crouched to pat Quentin''s cheek.

    Quentin, red-faced and furious, spat out, "Citrine Carmichael, you''re out of your damn mind!"

    It wasn''t the first time she''d humiliated him, and despite having been through this more than once, it didn''t make it any less infuriating.

    Hastings hesitated a moment, then only after Citrine stood up did he help Quentin to his feet.

    Citrine didn''t spare Quentin a nce. She spoke directly to Hastings, her voice cold: "I thought I made myself clearst time. Hastings, stop haunting me. The more you cling, the more I despise you."

    Hastings had lost count of how many times he''d heard this. His heart felt numb, yet he still couldn''t let go.

    He hated himself for it, hated how pathetic he sounded, but he couldn''t stop begging. Jaw clenched, he said, "Citrine, if you really like Sebastian, I... I don''t mind." Of course, that was a lie, but he couldn''t admit the truth, not now.

    Citrine stared at him, silent.

    Thinking she didn''t believe him, Hastings rushed on. "I''ll settle for being... for being number two. I''m not greedy. Just give me a little of your time every week, that''s all."

    A bitter smile twisted his lips. ¡°See? I''m not asking for much. I just want to stay by your side."

    "You really are sick." Citrine didn''t know anymore was she the crazy one, or was it Hastings?

    Sebastian''s brow furrowed. He''d

    heard these words before, but until now he''d dismissed them as a moment''s madness. Hearing them again he couldn''t help but feel

    uneasy. He nced at Citrine

    worried she might soften.

    A long silence stretched between them. Sebastian''s heart pounded, as if waiting

    for the axe to fall.

    But then Citrine spoke.

    "Hastings, Quentin-you two clearly have too much time on your hands. Maybe

    you should spend it figuring out how to save your family''spanies."

    She smiled, a hint of warning in her voice. "The Glenwood family''s fallen. Next up are your families-the Coopers and the Aldridges. I won''t spare either of you. So maybe worry

    less about me and more about your own futures."

 Chapter 753

    That evening, Citrine shared a batch of travel photos in the family group chat, "The Bond Bunch."

    She''d barely hit send when Hilda Saunders replied, not five secondster.

    "You''re so beautiful, Citrine. My precious girl!"

    Right on her heels came Monica Saunders and Wade Saunders, their messages following each other in quick session.

    "My little sister is gorgeous. Sigh, so jealous.¡±

    "Absolutely stunning, Citrine. Next time you go on a trip, can you bring your big brother along?"

    Then Herschel Saunders chimed in: "Oh, give it a rest. Citrine went for a work retreat-why on earth would she drag you, Mr. No-Skills, along? People would find out you''re her brother and think less of her!"

    Wade: "..."

    Inez Saunders: "When are youing home, Citrine? Grandma misses you."

    Sitting in her hotel room, Citrine''s heart swelled with warmth as she read through the messages.

    She smiled and typed back, "I''ll be home in Crestwood tomorrow morning."

    After hitting send, she switched off her phone, leaned back on the bed, and let her eyes drift shut, intending just to rest a moment. But, inconveniently, her mind wandered to that kiss with Sebastian the night before.

    Why am I thinking about that now?

    Her eyes flew open. She sat up, heart thudding.

    The next morning, Citrine and her colleagues piled into the car for the return trip to the city.

    The car pulled up in front of thepany building. As Citrine got out and reached for her suitcase, she spotted Sebastian walking toward her, her luggage already in hand.

    When he drew near, she offered him a polite smile. "Thank you."

    She reached to take her suitcase, but Sebastian didn''t let go.

    Citrine frowned slightly, puzzled.

    "I''ll carry it for you," Sebastian said gently.

    Her car was parked in thepany garage, and since it was on his way, she didn''t object.

    They walked together to the garage. Sebastian set her suitcase in the trunk. But even after that, he didn''t leave.

    Citrine stared at him, a little taken aback. "Do you want a ride?" she ventured.

    "If it''s not too much trouble," Sebastian replied, and without waiting for an answer, pulled open the passenger door and settled into the seat.

    Citrine''s eyes widened in disbelief.

    Was he doing this on purpose?

    But now that he was already in the car, she couldn''t very well toss him out.

    She shot him a sideways nce. "Where do you live?"

    "Sunbliss Apartments."

    That was on the same route as the Saunders'' home-convenient.

    After dropping Sebastian off, Citrine finally made her way back to the Saunders'' house.

    There, the entire Saunders n had squeezed themselves into the kitchen.

    Herschel and Inez hovered over a

    pot of soup

    Hilda and Nathalie were

    busy with chopping and cooking.

    Monica, Wade, and Gorman

    Saunders milled around,

    vel

    asionally tossing inpletely

    unhelpful suggestions.

    Finally, on Wade''s thirdint that the soup was too nd, Herschel flicked him on the head.

    "Citrine likes milder vors. If you don''t, go eat somewhere else and stop getting in the way."

    "Grandpa, that hurt!" Wade protested, rubbing his head, looking pitiful.

    "You deserved it." Herschel snorted and went back to tending the soup.

    When Herschel ignored him, Wade turned hopefully to Monica.

    She rolled her eyes. "Go wait outside. You''re in the way."

    Unconvinced, Wade turned his pleading gaze to Gorman. "Uncle Gorman?"

    "Out of the way. We''re getting dinner ready for Citrine," Gorman said, suppressing a shudder. Then, as if struck by inspiration, he pointed at Wade. "You-go slice up some of Citrine''s favorite fruit."

    "Oh, and make sure it''s cut evenly and looks nice. Citrine doesn''t like ugly food."

    Wade was annoyed at being bossed around but perked up at the thought of doing something for his sister and dashed off to do as told.

    By then, Citrine had alreadye home. She''d been standing in the entryway for a couple of minutes, listening in on the yful bickering, her heart growing warmer with every word.

    This life, she thought, was overflowing with family and love.

    Wade, emerging to fetch fruit, nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw her by the door.

    But the surprise quickly gave way to delight.

    "Citrine!" Without thinking, he darted over and wrapped her in a big bear hug.

    She barely had time to react before he squeezed her tight.

    "You''re finally back! Five days without you-you have no idea how much I missed you."

    He looked up at her with puppy-dog eyes. "Did you miss your big brother too?"

    Citrine couldn''t bring herself to disappoint him. "Of course I did."

    No sooner had she spoken than she nced up and saw the rest of the Saunders family standing there, all watching her with equally expectant faces.

    Monica pouted. "So, you only missed him? Didn''t miss your big sister at all?"

    All of them-Monica included-looked at Citrine like she''dmitted a terrible injustice by not spreading her affection around.

    Citrine nearly burst outughing. She copied Wade''s pitiful expression and gazed at them, "Don''t look at me like that. I missed all of you."

    They all knew she was teasing, but no one had the heart to give her a hard time.

    Five days apart, and the Saunders family already felt off-bnce¡ªespecially Hilda.

 Chapter 754

    Maybe it was because of the time Citrine went missing before, but now Hilda found herself more sensitive than ever.

    From the very first day Citrine left for her trip, anxiety gnawed at her. If it hadn''t been for Herschel and Inez reassuring her every day, she might have run off to find Citrine herself.

    So when she saw her daughter standing there safe and sound, Hilda couldn''t have been happier.

    "Sweetheart, I made all your favorite dishes-been waiting for you toe home," she said, beaming.

    "Thank you, Mom." Citrine smiled, reaching for Hilda''s hand.

    She was about to say something when she noticed the red veins in her mother''s eyes. ¡°Mom, are you okay? Your eyes look so red."

    Hilda hesitated for a moment.

    Before she could say anything, Wade jumped in. "Citrine, you have no idea. After you left, Aunt Hilda was-"

    Hilda shot him a warning re. "Wade."

    He pressed his lips together and went quiet.

    Turning back to Citrine, Hilda softened her voice until it was impossibly gentle. "I''m fine, honey. I just workedtest night and didn''t get enough sleep."

    "Then you need to rest more, Mom." Citrine was smart enough not to push further. After lunch, Citrine slipped away to Wade''s room.

    He was gaming, but the moment he saw his sister, he dropped the controller and looked at her with surprise and delight. "Citrine! What brings you here? Want to hang out with your brother?"

    She sat beside him. "Actually, I wanted to ask what you were about to say at lunch."

    He grinned. "So that''s what you''re after?"

    Without hesitation, he spilled the truth. "Aunt Hilda didn''t worktest night. From the first day you left, she''s been a wreck, worried sick you might get lost again. If it weren''t for Grandpa and Grandma talking her down, she would''ve driven out to find you by now."

    "She misses you like crazy, barely sleeps at night-just keeps worrying something will happen to you."

    "Oh," Citrine murmured, eyes clouded with guilt and tenderness.

    Wade, noticing her distress, quickly added, "Don''t worry, Citrine. She''ll be fine. It''s just a mother''s worry. She''ll get over it with time."

    Citrine nodded.

    That night, Hilda was in the middle of a video conference when she heard a soft knock at her door.

    Puzzled, she opened it to find Citrine standing there, gazing up at her.

    "Citrine," Hilda said, her heart melting instantly.

    "Mom, can I sleep with you tonight?"

    "Of course, sweetheart! Of course you can," Hilda stammered. Pure joy washed over her, so overwhelming it almost felt unreal. Even though Citrine was back with the Saunders family, Hilda could still feel the walls her daughter sometimes put up.

    But tonight was different-this was the first time Citrine had evere to her like this, reaching out for closeness.

    As a mother, Hilda had always longed for this moment, and she was no exception.

    "Come in, darling." She stepped aside to let her daughter in.

    The bedroom and office shared the same space, so Hilda led Citrine to the bed, pulling back the covers. "Sweetheart, I still have a meeting to finish. Why don''t you get cozy and wait for me?"

    "Okay." Citrine nodded, hugged her phone, and slipped under the covers.

    Meanwhile, on the video call, her colleagues'' eyes widened; they started chattering in excitement.

    "Whoa, is that President Saunders'' daughter?"

    "She''s adorable! Look at her wants to sleep with her mom at night. So cute."

    "Don''t forget, President Saunders'' daughter is the CEO of CICI Group."

    "Not just CICLGroup-she also runs Vermillion Vanguard, is the chair of Crestwood Medical Research, and heads Viridis Medical Institute. Remember the flu outbreak? She was the one who developed the breakthrough treatment."

    "And she''s a bestselling author, too."

    ¡°Unlike those money-obsessed business types, President Saunders'' daughter is a real scientist."

    "I''m jealous. The ten of usbined couldn''t produce a daughter like hers." "Smart, sessful, and still so sweet and affectionate-who wouldn''t want a daughter like that?"

    Hilda walked over just in time to catch the end of their conversation.

    She was in such a good mood that she joined in. "What is it you all want?"

    One of the teamughed. "President Saunders, we were just saying how envious we are. Your daughter is so aplished at such a young age! We all wish we could have a daughter like her."

    ¡°Yeah, President Saunders, we''re so jealous. Your girl is so close to you. My own daughter refuses to sleep with me unless I Venmo her fifty bucks as a bribe!"

    "President Saunders, does your lovely daughter need a godmother? I''m avable!"

    Hearing her colleagues praise Citrine, Hilda was positively glowing-until someone made thatst remark. She frowned slightly and let out a coolugh. "Avable for what, exactly?"

    "If you mean that overseas project in Myanmar, I can assure you-you''re more than qualified for that."

 Chapter 755

    Hilda was in a remarkably good mood today. The weekly meeting, which usually dragged on for an hour, was wrapped up in just thirty minutes.

    Even more surprising, Hilda was unusually agreeable. When a department manager presented a disastrous marketing proposal-something that would''ve made her explode on any other day-she simply kept her cool and, in a gentle tone, asked them to revise it.

    Anyone who knew Hilda''s reputation at work would have been floored. She was known for her zero-tolerance policy toward ipetence; if anyone dared submit a sloppy proposal, she''d publicly eviscerate them until they left the conference room in tears.

    So when everyone on the video call noticed their boss''s sudden kindness, it didn''t take long to connect the dots.

    President Saunders'' uncharacteristic patience could only mean one thing-her daughter was around.

    The team couldn''t help but breathe a collective sigh of relief. If President Saunders'' daughter hadn''t been present, today''s meeting would probably have been a nightmare.

    After finishing up her work, Hilda showered and got ready for bed.

    As she stepped into her bedroom, she spotted Citrine perched on her bed,pletely absorbed in a book.

    Citrine didn''t notice her at first. Only when Hilda approached did she calmly put the book aside.

    "Mom, are you done with work?" she asked.

    Hilda smiled fondly, reached out to ruffle her daughter''s hair, and nodded. "What''s

    got you wanting to sleep with me tonight?" she teased gently.

    Citrine scooted over and lifted the covers, patting the empty space beside her. "Come on, Mom-lie down with me."

    Once Hilda settled in next to her,

    Citrine propped her chin on her hand and looked at her with quiet seriousness. "I just realized-I''ve never actually slept with you before, not even once."

    The words caught Hilda off guard. For a moment, a sh of pain darkened her eyes.

    It was true. While other children grew up cradled in their mothers'' love, her own daughter had suffered so much in the Iverson household.

    Noticing the shift in Hilda''s expression, Citrine reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

    "When I was little," Citrine began softly, "I''d watch Sawyer and Aline dote on Jete Iverson, loving her without question. And I''d

    wonder-where was my mom? What did she look like? Did she love me? Why didn''t she want me?"

    "At first, I was angry. I med you and Dad for having me but not raising me. I hated that you brought me into this world just to leave me alone and hurting."

    "But the truth is, as much as I tried to convince myself you''d abandoned me and that I should hate you, what scared me more was how much still hoped for you. All these years, I never stopped imagining what it would be like to meet you. Deep down, I longed for my parents, just like I did as a child. Maybe that''s the power of family."

    "When I found out you''d been searching for me all this time, I was happy. That moment, I realized I''d never truly hated you at all. All the anger I thought I felt was really just hope."

    Citrine poured out everything she''d kept bottled up inside.

    "Citrine." Hilda was stunned. Since their reunion, her daughter had never opened up to her like this. For Hilda, this was precious beyond words.

    Citrine smiled softly. "Mom, I never med you. Losing me wasn''t your fault. You shouldn''t feel guilty."

    She squeezed Hilda''s hand again. "Besides, I''m back now. I''m an adult-I won''t get lost again."

    Hilda''s eyes stung with tears. "Oh, Citrine. My darling girl. You''re so wonderful-l don''t deserve to be your mother."

 Chapter 756

    Citrine was upset.

    "Mom, don''t say that. I know you''re a wonderful mother."

    "My darling, you really are my little sweetheart," Hilda couldn''t help but gently pinch her daughter''s nose.

    As the words left her lips, Hilda realized Citrine was trying tofort her.

    With a softugh, she asked, "Did that rascal Wade say something to you?"

    Citrine shook her head. "No, Mom. I asked my brother myself."

    Hilda smiled at her daughter, saying nothing more.

    It was the first time Citrine had opened up on her own. She''d thought it would be difficult, but once she did it, she realized it wasn''t so hard after all.

    She could feel it-this honest conversation had brought her and her mother closer than ever.

    Citrine wanted to keep talking, but when she noticed the fatigue in Hilda''s eyes, she decided against it.

    She obediently crawled under the covers and urged, "Come on, Mom, let''s get some rest. You have to go to work tomorrow."

    Thinking her daughter was tired, Hilda fondly ruffled Citrine''s hair. "Alright, sweetheart."

    Citrine quickly closed her eyes.

    A long whileter, after she heard her daughter''s steady breathing, Hilda quietly opened her own eyes.

    The nightlight cast a gentle glow over half her face, making her seem even softer and more serene.

    Hilda leaned over and pressed a kiss to Citrine''s forehead.

    "I love you, baby," she whispered.

    Only then did Hilda finally drift off into a peaceful sleep.

    That night she slept soundly and dreamlessly. When morning came, she woke feeling refreshed, fulkof energy, and the redness in her eyes was gone.

    At breakfast, Wade did a double take when he saw her. "Aunt Hilda, did you get a facial or somethingst night?"

    Hilda shot him a re. "You never know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?"

    Monica, much more tactful than Wade, was generous with herpliments. "Aunt Hilda, you look stunning today."

    Inez, recalling what she''d seen the night before, chuckled. ¡°Looks like having a daughter is the best beauty treatment there is."

    Hilda was in such a good mood that she even ate more than usual for breakfast.

    Citrine didn''t have any sses that morning, so after eating, she sprawled out on the sofa to catch up on her favorite show.

    Wade plopped down next to her. "Hey, Citrine, tomorrow night''s Curry ck''s birthday. Come with me, yeah?"

    "Sure." It was no big deal, so Citrine agreed without thinking twice.

    Wade had half expected his sister to turn him down. When she agreed so easily, he finally rxed.

    Most of his buddies would be at the

    party, and they were all hoping

    Citrine woulde. Wade, for his

    part, was never one to miss

    chance to show off his little sister.

    The next day, Citrine went home to change before heading to Curry''s ce with Wade.

    Curry had been waiting in the foyer all morning and came out as soon as Wade called.

    Wade pped him hard on the shoulder and handed over a gift. ¡°Happy birthday, man."

    Citrine nodded politely. "Happy birthday, Curry."

    She handed over her own gift as well.

    Curry grinned at them both. "Thanks, man. And thanks, little sis."

    "Who are you calling your little sister, huh? Watch it. I''ll let it slide since it''s your birthday." Wade shot him a mock re and gave him a yful jab in the ribs.

    "Alright, inside you go," Curryughed, ushering them in.

 Chapter 757

    When Curry approached with Wade, both Mr. and Mrs. ck''s faces broke into wide, eager smiles as they hurried over to greet them.

    Mrs. ck took Wade''s hand warmly. "Wade! I''m so d you could make it. Come in, have a seat," she said, all hospitality.

    But though her words were for Wade, her gaze barely left Citrine the entire time.

    Soon enough, she let go of Wade and turned her full attention to Citrine. "You must be President Saunders''s daughter, aren''t you?"

    There was a sharp, calcted look in Mrs. ck''s eyes that Citrine found instantly off-putting.

    When Mrs. ck reached out as if to draw her in, Citrine calmly stepped back, offering only a polite nod to both hosts, her tone distant and formal. "Mr. ck. Mrs. ck."

    Mrs. ck''s smile faltered ever so slightly as she exchanged a quick nce with her husband, then forced herself to keep up the praise. "We''ve heard all about President Carmichael, such an impressive reputation for someone so young. Now that I see you in person, you really do have a remarkable presence."

    Citrine merely dipped her head, modest as ever. "You''re too kind, Mrs. ck."

    Mr. ck gently pulled his wife aside and leaned forward in an exaggerated show of deference. "President Carmichael, you don''t need to be modest. There isn''t a soul in Crestwood who doesn''t know about your achievements. Among all the bright young people here tonight, you''re easily the most aplished.¡±

    A faint crease appeared between Citrine''s brows.

    Today was Curry''s birthday. What exactly were the cks trying to pull-did they think this party was just another chance to chase after status and connections? Curry''s face darkened; his fists clenched tight at his sides, but there was nothing he could do.

    He should have seen thising. His parents cared only for status, and for his ten-year-old brother-certainly not for him.

    Curry hung his head, mortified. He threw a nce at his father, who was practically bowing and scraping before Citrine, and finally spoke up. "Dad, the other guests are waiting. Shouldn''t we let Citrine take her seat?"

    Bartley ck shot him a scowl, clearly irritated. "Stay out of this. I wasn''t talking to you."

    But when he turned back to Citrine, his face transformed into an obsequious grin. "President Carmichael, please forgive the boy. He doesn''t know any better."

    Citrine ignored himpletely, not even sparing him a nce. She walked straight over to Wade and sat down beside him as if none of it concerned her.

    Only then did she look up at Bartley with a slow, deliberate smile. "Mr ck, I''m just wondering-is today really your son''s birthday party, or simply another stage for you to show off?"

    Bartley''s smile froze in ce, the words hitting their mark.

    Before he could recover, Citrine continued in the same calm voice "Mr. ck, there are still plenty of guests waiting for you. Shouldn''t

    You

    wee them?"

    Without waiting for a reply, she picked up her water ss and took a leisurely sip.

    Bartley could only swallow his annoyance and nod. "You''re absolutely right, President Carmichael. I''ll go take care of the other guests now."

    After he''d gone, Curry finally turned to Citrine. "Thank you, Citrine."

    She waved him off. "It''s nothing. Besides, you''re my brother''s friend, which practically makes you my friend, too."

    Curry grinned and teased, "Practically? Doesn''t that make me your brother as well?"

    Before Citrine could answer, Wade shot Curry a re sharp enough to cut ss. "Curry, you really have a death wish."

    A momentter, Curry and Gorman hadunched into their usual horsey, and Citrine, unfazed, simply focused on her tea and pastries.

    When all the guests had arrived, Curry was about to cut the cake when Mrs. ck called out to him.

    "Curry, wait-your little brother wants to help cut the cake. Come, hold him up so he can do it."

    She led over a chubby little boy, who red at Curry before sticking out his tongue in a bratty gesture. "Hmph! Mom and Dad are mine, and so is your birthday."  fo

    With that, the boy ran straight at Curry, mming into him with all the force his

    pudgy frame could muster.

 Chapter 758

    Curry didn''t feel any pain, but his face was pale.

    The chubby little boy didn''t care about anyone else. He snatched the cake knife from a nearby maid, then stuck out his arms, demanding that Curry lift him up so he could cut the cake himself.

    This kind of scene had yed out countless times. Curry stood still, gazing at the boy with a calm, distant look.

    Growing impatient, the little brat kicked Curry sharply. "Didn''t you hear me? If you make me unhappy, I''ll tell Dad and have him cancel your allowance."

    Mrs. ck stood to the side, watching coldly, making no move to stop her son''s antics.

    In the end, it was Wade who couldn''t take it any longer. Without a word, he strode over and gave the boy a solid kick.

    "Listen, you little punk, I usually let your nonsense slide, but today is Curry''s birthday. If you dare bully my friend like this, I''ll knock some sense into you."

    The chubby boy burst into tears on the spot.

    Mrs. ck''s face twisted as she hurried over and scooped her son into her arms, her expression full of distress as she tried tofort him.

    "There, there, sweetheart, don''t cry." She crouched down, gently wiping his tears.

    After finally soothing her son, she shot Curry a furious re. "Curry, your little brother doesn''t know any better, but you should. How could you stand by and let Wadey a hand on him?"

    "He''s just a child. Even if he''s a bit mischievous, can''t you go easy on him? You''re older-shouldn''t you know better?"

    Her voice rang out through the room, every word dripping with disappointment.

    The guests began to nod and murmur in agreement.

    "She''s right, Curry''s being too harsh. An older brother should make allowances for his little brother."

    "The kid''s a handful, sure, but you can''t let your friends get physical with him."

    "Exactly. He''s just ten, poor thing."

    "Honestly, Curry''s acting pretty cold."

    The criticism felt suffocating, as if Curry and Wade might drown in the wave of voices.

    Neither of them could find a word to say.

    At that moment, Citrine stepped forward.

    He walked up to the tform, pulling Wade behind him, then looked Mrs. ck straight in the eyes. "Mrs. ck, that''s a strange thing to Your youngest might be

    mischievous, but where''s vers

    responsibility in all of this? He''s so young and already so spiteful-don''t tell me nobody taught him that. As his mother, you let him ruin his brother''s birthday party. If anyone''s being thoughtless, it''s you."

    "And let''s get one thing straight-there''s no rule that says the older sibling must always give in to the younger."

    "Also, everyone saw that it was

    Wade who kicked your son. So why are you ming Curry? Is it because the Saunders family isn''t someone you want to cross, or is it just because Curry has no one to stand up for him? He has parents, but they might as well be strangers."

    Curry and Wade stared at Citrine, their eyes shining with gratitude.

    The guests murmured amongst themselves, nodding in agreement.

    "That''s true-he''s only ten, but he had to learn that attitude from somewhere. Mrs. ck clearly taught him."

    ¡°Is Mrs. ck even Curry''s real mother? What kind of mom lets her youngest act out like this at his brother''s birthday?"

    "And honestly, it''s always the birthday kid who cuts the cake. It should be Curry''s job, not the little brother''s."

    "The more I think about it, the more out of line that boy seems. Talking down to his brother at his birthday, trying to take his ce, and the way he treats Curry-he doesn''t act like a brother at all."

    "Poor kid. He must put up with so much."

    "People have always said they favor the youngest, and seeing it today, it''s obviously true."

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 Chapter 759

    The mood in the room shifted instantly after Citrine finished speaking. The guests who''d been hostile a moment ago suddenly changed their tune.

    Mrs. ck''s face was ashen with anger. She shot a furious look at her youngest son, who had just stopped crying, and scolded him sharply. "This is what happens when you don''t listen! You ruined your brother''s birthday party."

    But that wasn''t enough to vent her frustration. She stormed over and pped the chubby boy several times. He let out a wail. "Mom, how could you hit me? I hate you!" With that, he turned and ran out of the room.

    For a brief moment, a flicker of regret crossed Mrs. ck''s eyes as she watched her son disappear. But when she turned back to face Curry ck, her expression hardened, her eyes colder than ever.

    She snapped at him, "Are you happy now?"

    Curry''s face went pale. He looked at his mother, opened his mouth, and said with pain in his voice, "Sometimes I really wonder if I''m actually your son."

    Mrs. ck let out a cold, humorlessugh. "Frankly, I wish you weren''t. Both of you are my children, but when I was pregnant with you, nothing ever went right. When I was expecting your brother, that''s when our family finally prospered. Face it, Curry-you''ve always been nothing but bad luck."

    The words ¡°bad luck" seemed to strike Curry like a blow. His eyes darkened, and he clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. He tried to speak, but no words came out.

    That''s when Citrine stepped in, her voice bright and easy. She smiled at Curry. "Hey, it''s your birthday. Let''s cut the cake."

    Wade Saunders chimed in, grinning. "Yeah,e on! I''ve been waiting all day for this."

    Their voices seemed to thaw the ice in Curry''s heart, if only a little. He managed a grateful smile and reached for the knife.

    Citrine and Wade exchanged nces, each waiting for the other to make the first cut. The moment hung in the air-until it was shattered by a booming announcement from the hall: "Mr. Griffin has arrived!"

    From across the room, Bartley ck could be seen hustling toward a young man with an air of deference, practically bowing as he greeted him. Bartley ushered the neer inside, his voice raised for the entire room to hear.

    "Mr. Griffin, it''s a true honor to have you here for my son''s birthday. When I sent the invitation, I never dreamed you''d be able to make it, considering your busy schedule. I can''t thank you enough-it really means a lot to us.¡±

    He was practically shouting, as if worried someone might miss the point.

    Mrs. ck, quick to switch gears, hurried over to Bartley''s side, her face split by a fawning grin.

    "Mr. Griffin, if only we''d known you''d be joining us, we would have waited for you to start. Of all our guests today, you''re by far the most distinguished." She nced at Citrine with a sly, mocking smile.

    Watching Bartley and Mrs. ck falling over themselves to impress the guest, Wade almost burst outughing. ¡°Jonah Griffin? He must be here just to stir up trouble."

    He muttered to Curry, "After losing to me in thest match, he still has the nerve to show his face here."

    Wade leaned closer, lowering his voice. "I always knew your folks yed favorites, but this is the first time I''ve really seen how far they''ll go."

    "Man, you''ve got it rough at home."

    Curry gave a small, bitterugh. "The Griffin family has a lot of weight in Crestwood and more importantly they''re second-inmand in the Shadow Syndicate. My parents have been trying to get in with the Syndicate for years. Today, they''re just using my birthday as an excuse to cozy up to the Griffins. You can bet they''ll cling to any chance they get-especially since Jonah''s the apple of the Griffin family''s eye."

    He smiled wryly. He''d seen through his parents'' schemes a long time ago. This

    party wasn''t his idea¡ªthey''d forced him into it.

    Wade snorted. "Your parents sure are ambitious."

    Curry''s smile turned sour. "You have no idea. They even tried totch onto Citrine to get into Blood Rain, but after seeing how untouchable she is, they''ve put all their hopes on the Griffins."

    Wade rolled his eyes. "Hah. As if my sister would ever give your parents the time of day."

    Meanwhile, Citrine watched the cks fawn over Jonah Griffin from a distance, her expression unreadable. Bartley and Mrs. ck couldn''t stop grinning and bowing, while Jonah ignored thempletely.

    He gave a subtle nod to his bodyguard, who handed Bartley a small box.

    "My father asked me to bring this," Jonah said indifferently, already scanning the

    room.

    Bartley and Mrs. ck looked at each other in confusion. "Is there someone you''re looking for?" they asked.

    Jonah ignored them, his eyes still searching. "Where''s that idiot Wade?" he muttered. He''de here for one reason to challenge Wade to a rematch.

 Chapter 760

    Jonah stormed in, radiating hostility.

    The cks froze, uncertain whether Jonah hade for them or for Wade.

    Wade, pushed to his limits, let out a humorlessugh. He stalked up to Jonah, grabbed him by the cor, and spat, "Jonah, are you out of your mind? It''s my buddy''s birthday-what the hell are you doing here, trying to ruin it?"

    He red, voice sharp. "I''m telling you get out. Now."

    Jonah scoffed. "Oh, so you tell me to leave and I just run along? Not a chance."

    He dropped into the nearest chair,pletely at ease, then looked right at the cks, making a show of it. He even shot Curry a wink. "Isn''t that right, Curry?"

    Curry clenched his fists, face twisting with anger.

    At the same time, the cks exchanged a nce. Mrs. ck put on her brightest smile and stepped forward to chime in:

    "Mr. Griffin''s right. You''re the only son of the Griffin family-the whole estate will be yours one day. And let''s not forget, the Griffins are second-inmand to the Shadow Syndicate. We''ll all be relying on you in the future. If anyone has to leave tonight, it certainly won''t be you.¡±

    Then, turning to Wade, Mrs. ck''s tone shifted from warm to icy. "Mr. Saunders, sure, your family''s name carries weight, but they have plenty of heirs. C. Corp''s future won''t involve you, and you''ve made quite a mess of things here in Crestwood these past few years. If you care about your future, I''d start making better choices."

    Mrs. ck seemed like apletely different person, her words sharp as knives.

    Wade stared at her, stunned, anger boiling up inside him.

    Never in all these years had someone humiliated him like this in public.

    She might as well have called him useless to his face.

    And yet, for once, he couldn''t think of a singleeback. He clenched his fists, jaw clenched, face flushed with fury.

    It stung even more knowing his sister had witnessed his humiliation. Wade pressed his lips together, ncing at Citrine, dreading the look of contempt he feared he''d see on her face.

    As soon as Mrs. ck finished, Bartley chimed in, nodding along "That''s right. Wade, you''re not-

    Maybe it''s time

    getting any younger worthwhile to

    you found something

    do with your life."

    Curry stared at his parents in disbelief. He''d seen firsthand how they''d spoiled Wade over the years always fawning over him Now, just because Jonah had shown up it was like they''d morphed intopletely different people cruel, almost grotesque.

    Curry''s voice shook with anger. "You can treat me however you want, but how could you talk to Wade like that?"

    Bartley cut him off coldly. "Enough. No one asked for your opinion."

    The tension in the room was suffocating. Then Jonah burst outughing, loud and mocking.

    He looked at Curry and Wade with a smirk. "See? No one cares what you two have to say."

    Jonah''s satisfaction seemed to

    please the cks even more. Their smiles grew, and they continued, Wade''s known all over Crestwood for doing nothing with his life. It''s hardly a secret. Why shouldn''t say it?"

    "You-" Wade was shaking with fury, but still had no words.

    Just then, Citrine stepped out from behind him.

    Her expression was cold and steady as she walked right up to the cks.

    "And who do you think you are, even saying my brother''s name?"

    She let out a contemptuousugh and moved to stand protectively in front of

    Wade, arms crossed, giving the cks a slow, icy once-over.

    "Dressed head to toe in designer brands¡ªlooks impressive, doesn''t it?"

    The cks had looked uneasy at first, but at Citrine''s words, their faces lit up with practiced smiles. ¡°Thank you for thepliment, President Carmichael."

 Chapter 761

    Citrine let out a sharp, mockingugh. "You can dress yourselves up all you want, but it doesn''t hide how desperately sycophantic you both are."

    She nced at Wade with warmth in her eyes. "My brother is a Saunders. If he wants, C. Corp is as much his as anyone''s. He never has to worry about his future our family will always have his back."

    "And as for your im that he''s done nothing with his life-well, from what I know, Wade''s won more than his fair share of racing championships. Not long ago, he even beat Jonah at Skysunder Ridge. He''s talented. If you think that makes him useless, then what does that make the Jonah who lost to him? Trash?"

    Wade blinked, his eyes suddenly misty.

    In all these years, no one had ever stood up for him so openly, right in front of everyone.

    He might act carefree and irreverent, but deep down, Wade was just a boy who longed to be loved.

    The cks'' faces twisted with embarrassment and anger, neither managing to say a word.

    Both of them turned to Jonah, their voices anxious. "Mr. Griffin, we swear we didn''t mean anything by it."

    But Jonah didn''t so much as nce their way. The moment Citrine had spoken up, his attention had been fixed entirely on her.

    Seeing Jonah remain silent, the cks panicked, falling over themselves to exin. "Mr. Griffin, really, we meant nothing by it-please, don''t be upset!"

    Jonah just felt annoyed. He stood, pushing past the cks with irritation.

    He''d always thought the pair were pathetic brown-nosers-they were exhausting to be around. With a snap of impatience, he barked, "Get out of my way. Stop bothering me."

    He straightened his jacket and, with a hint of awkwardness, turned to Citrine. "What are you doing here?"

    Ever since he''d learned she''d saved him by sending the Skysunder Ridge patrol, Jonah hadn''t been able to keep up his cold front with Citrine.

    And now that he knew she was the legendary racer at Skysunder Ridge, he couldn''t help but admire her-though pride wouldn''t let him show it.

    "Wade''s my brother. Why wouldn''t I be here?" Citrine replied, matching his

    bluntness. She knew Jonah had a grudge against Wade, so she made no effort to be polite.

    Jonah''s eyes darkened.

    Of all people, why did the famous racer have to be his archrival Wade''s sister?

    It was a real dilemma.

    With a huff, he muttered, "Don''t think just because you saved mest time, I''m going to start being nice to you."

    Citrine stared at him for a split second. Was something wrong with this guy?

    She shook her head and turned away, refusing to waste another word.

    Looking to the rest of the ck family''s guests, she spoke coolly, "I think everyone''s heard enough. obvious the cks only consider Mr. Griffin a guest-people like us aren''t wee here. No point in staying where we''re not wanted."

    She shot a look at Wade and Curry. "Come on, let''s go somewhere people actually want us."

    Wade and Curry both nodded.

    Citrine faced Mr. Gorman and Mrs. ck and offered them a polite, chilly smile.

    "Well, thank you for your hospitality, but we''ll be leaving now."

    With that, she led Wade and Curry toward the exit.

    The cks watched them go, faces thunderous and gray.

    But just then, Jonah called out to Citrine.

    The cks assumed he wanted to stop her, but the next words out of his mouth

    nearly made them faint with rage.

    Jonah looked at Citrine with an air of

    prideful reluctance. "If you really

    don''t want me to stay here, I

    suppose can do you the favor and

    leave too." His

    His voice was quiete

    than usual, betraying his

    embarrassment.

    Citrine blinked, immediately

    recognizing that Jonah was just

    looking for a way to save face. She hadn''t nned to respond, but Something about his awkward posturing feminded her of the haughty cat at home. So, she nodded.

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 Chapter 762

    Jonah was a master at making a dramatic exit. He shot a cold re at the cks and gave a dismissive snort. "I''m out of here. Pretend I was never even here."

    But halfway to the door, he spun around, marched back, and snatched the gift out of the attendant''s hands. "Actually, I''m taking this back. You''re not getting anything from me."

    Without missing a beat, Jonah sauntered up to Citrine, tossed the gift her way, and grinned. "Hey, here. This is for you now."

    Citrine barely managed to catch it, surprised by the sudden turn of events.

    The cks could only stare, speechless. This was the first time they''d ever seen someone so shamelessly take back a gift and hand it off to someone else. Truly eye-opening.

    After Citrine and her group left, the remaining guests quickly filtered out, leaving only the cks alone in the vast, echoing hall.

    Bartley''s face contorted with fury as he turned on Mrs. ck and delivered a resounding p.

    The sound of ps and cries soon filled the empty room, echoing off the marble.

    Meanwhile, Jonah was hot on Citrine''s heels, sticking to her side like a burr.

    "You guys heading out to celebrate Curry''s birthday?" he asked, looking at Curry with open disdain.

    "Yeah," Citrine replied coolly.

    Curry coughed awkwardly, trying to y it casual. "Well... I just happen to be freeter."

    He''d made his intentions more than clear; after all, he''d just stood up for Citrine against the cks. Surely she wouldn''t just ignore that. He waited, certain Citrine would invite him along. But several seconds ticked by, and Citrine remained silent.

    Wade and Curry exchanged nces, both reading Jonah''s mind. Citrine, of course, was no exception.

    onah, oblivio

    thought he hadn''t been obvious enough. "I mean, I''ve got

    nothing else going on-it''d be pretty boring not to tag along."

    Citrine nced at him, her expression hovering somewhere between a smile and a smirk.

    Suddenly feeling uneasy, Jonah swallowed hard. "Why aren''t you saying anything?"

    Citrine finally spoke, her tone mild but icy. "Mr. Griffin, whether you''re bored or not really has nothing to do with me."

    Jonah stared at her, stunned. He''d given her so much face tonight-humiliated the cks for her, even handed over the gift meant for Curry. The least she could do was invite him to the party herself. But she didn''t give him an inch, not even a shred of gratitude.

    Jonah fumed, but what could he do? She had saved him once on Skysunder Ridge, and that debt wasn''t so easily ignored.

    Fine then. If she wouldn''t invite him, he''d just have to swallow his pride and invite himself.

    He gave a haughty sniff. "Since you clearly want me at Curry''s birthday and already epted my gift, I suppose I can lower myself to attend."

    He shot Curry a venomous look. "If it weren''t for her, I wouldn''t be caught dead at your party," he added with a tone of utter condescension.

    Then he turned his re on Wade. "And don''t think I''m doing you any favors, Wade. After tonight, we''re settling things once and for all at Skysunder Ridge."

    Citrine could only stare. When had she ever invited him?

    Curry was dumbfounded. Since when had his birthday party turned into Jonah''s stage?

    Wade just rolled his eyes. "Bring it on, man. Who''s afraid of you?"

    Citrine didn''t bother arguing. If Jonah wanted to tag along, so be it.

    Soon after, Curry reserved a private room at a restaurant, and a few of his close friends showed up.

    Jonah and Wade were notorious rivals. True to form, Jonahtched onto Citrine like an overzealous puppy, barely giving her space to breathe. He chattered nonstop, his mouth running a mile a minute.

    Citrine, for her part, was quickly going numb.

    "Seriously, how did you end up as Wade''s sister?" Jonah grumbled, indignant.

    "You''re a legend behind the wheel. You deserve better than him."

    He paused, then brightened. "Hey,

    In¨¦

    why don''t you be my little sister instead? I''m an only child, so

    get all the perks. I''ll look out for you from now on."

    Citrine just gave him a nk stare.

    Wade, who''d been sharing a drink,

    with the others, nearly spat out his

    beer. He shot upright. ¡°Jonah, are

    you Seriously trying to steal

    my

    sister right in front of me?"

    Jonah, utterly shameless, shrugged. "So what if I am?¡±

    He red at Wade. "You don''t deserve to have the queen of the track as your

    sister. If I want to steal her, I will."

    Wade''s temper red. "Say that again and I''ll knock your teeth out."

    "Go ahead, tough guy!" Jonah taunted, tapping his own cheek in invitation.

    But before Wade could move, Citrine reached out and pped Jonah across the face-quick, sharp, and with absoluteposure.

    "My brother is Wade," she said tly. "Try that again, and you''ll regret it."

    Jonah clutched his face in disbelief. It barely stung, but his pride was wounded.

    "Citrine! I just offered to make you my sister, and you hit me? Do you even have a heart?"

    Citrine just sighed. "Fine, I don''t. Whatever you say."

    She had no intention of wasting her breath on a child like him.

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 Chapter 763

    That night, on the drive home, Wade Saunders couldn''t shake off what Mrs. ck had said about him at Curry ck''s birthday party-how she''d called him utterly useless.

    In the past, he wouldn''t have cared. He''d never wanted to be anything more than a carefree trust fund kid. But tonight, his little sister had been there too. The thought that someone as aplished as Citrine had a brother like him-a disappointment-gnawed at him.

    The car was unusually quiet as they made their way back.

    It was Citrine who finally broke the silence, ncing at her troubled brother. "What''s wrong, Wade? You look upset."

    Wade hesitated for a moment before replying, "Citrine, I''m sorry. I embarrassed you tonight."

    She blinked, surprised that tonight''s events were bothering him.

    With a gentle smile, she said, "Come on, Wade. You don''t have to worry about what Mr. Gorman or Mrs. ck said. They don''t know you."

    Wade was about to brush it off, but Citrine continued, "When you were eighteen, you took first ce in the racing league. At neen, you ced third in your first international pro race. At twenty, you won the city championship, and at twenty- one, you took the top spot in the statepetition. Wade, your path has been paved with sess. You''ve never been less than anyone else."

    Never less than anyone else.

    Wade could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

    Citrine smiled at him. "In your field, you''re already outstanding. But if you don''t think it''s enough, you could start your own racing teampete together, share the passion, and shine even brighter."

    "A racing team?" Wade''s eyes lit up with excitement.

    But then he remembered he''d never actually started his own business before, and doubt crept in. "Citrine, do you really think I could pull that off?"

    "Of course," Citrine said, her voice unwavering.

    For the first time in a long while, Wade felt a spark of hope and determination. "Alright. I''ll do it. I''ll take your advice."

    But just as he spoke, he remembered his dwindling bank bnce and his enthusiasm fizzled.

    "Actually, maybe not..."

    "What''s wrong?" Citrine asked.

    Wade looked embarrassed and stammered, "Well, it''s a bit awkward, but I''ve only got about fifty thousand in my ount right now. That''s nowhere near enough to start a team."

    The Saunders family never spoiled their children. Once they turned eighteen, the financial safety was gone. If they wanted money, they had to earn it themselves.

    Wade had barely worked these past few years, and his bar wasn''t exactly thriving. As a result, he was easily the poorest member of the Saunders n.

    Citrine had been expecting

    something more serious. When she realized it was just about money, sheughed softly. "Don''t worry about that, Wade. If you''re serious about this, I''ll invest. Call it my way of buying in."

    She said it so easily that Wade was stunned.

    "You really trust me that much? Aren''t you worried I''ll lose your money?"

    Citrine smiled, her tone firm. "That''s just busin¨¨ss¡ªsometimes you win, sometimes you don''t. But I trust my instincts, and I trust you. Besides, I''m

    not nning on losing.

    Wade was floored. More than surprised, he was profoundly grateful.

    "Thank you, Citrine. I won''t let you down." For the first time in years, someone

    truly believed in him, and the feeling of trust was overwhelming.

    He was determined not to waste it.

    No matter what, he would make this work.

 Chapter 764

    It had been several months since Raymond Carmichael left the country for work. For the first couple of months, Citrine would still hear from him now and then-an asional message, sometimes a video call. But over the past month, he seemed to have vanished. None of her messages got a reply; with each one she sent, only silence answered back.

    That night, Citrine tossed and turned, her sleep restless and uneasy.

    She dreamed of the days back on Mirage Cay-old memories she hadn''t revisited in a long time. But she also dreamed of Raymond.

    In her dream, Raymond was there on Mirage Cay too, only he wasn''t safe. He was being dragged along by a group of strangers, blood soaking through his shirt.

    Citrine''s face paled. She tried to run to him, but before she could reach him, a gunshot rang out. Raymond copsed instantly, and everything was swallowed up by a blinding wash of red.

    She jolted upright in bed, her breath ragged, every nerve in her body on edge. Sleep was now impossible.

    Reaching for a tissue, she wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. It was three in the morning.

    That meant it was midday in the Federated States of Magnolia-where Raymond was supposed to be.

    Citrine opened her phone''s messaging app and, seeing herst unanswered message, typed out another.

    "Dad, when are youing home?"

    She waited ten, maybe fifteen minutes, but there was still no response. Citrine frowned, worry prickling at her.

    After hesitating a moment, she tried calling him with a video chat. The ringtone echoed in the quiet room, but no one picked up.

    Her anxiety only deepened.

    Early the next morning, Citrine called in favors-reaching out to a private investigator in Magnolia and pulling every string she had overseas, asking them to look into Raymond''s whereabouts.

    She spent the morning pacing, waiting for news. It wasn''t until noon that she finally got an answer.

    Both the detective agency and her own contacts came back with the same conclusion: Raymond was missing. And it might be connected to Mirage Cay.

    Citrine was still at the table with the Saunders family when she got the message. Her face drained of color, and she shot to her feet so abruptly that her chair nearly toppled.

    Everyone at the table turned to stare at her, startled.

    Hilda Saunders noticed immediately that something was wrong. "Citrine, you''ve

    seemed out of sorts all morning. Is something the matter?"

    Citrine pressed her lips together, her eyes clouded with pain.

    "Mom, I think something''s happened to Dad.¡± Her voice trembled as she spoke.

    No one knew better than Citrine

    what kind of ce Mirage Cay was. It was hell on earth. If Raymond had truly been taken by people from Mirage Cay, she couldn''t bear to

    imagine what might happen to him.

    Hilda''s expression grew grave. "Raymond? Isn''t he just away on business?"

    Citrine shook her head, her face

    tense. ¡°He hasn''t sent me a single message in nearly a month. I tried reaching out-nothing. I''ve had. people look into it. Mom, it''s

    possible he was taken by someone from Mirage Cay."

    "What? Mirage Cay?" Herschel Saunders''s face went pale.

    The rest of the Saunders family fell silent, the mood around the table growing heavy.

    Citrine''s nails dug into her palms. Even as worry threatened to overwhelm her, she knew she had to keep herposure.

    Since returning to the Carmichael family, Citrine had, for the first time, experienced what it felt like to be cherished and protected-something Raymond had given her.

    After a long moment, Citrine spoke. "Mom, I have to go to Magnolia."

    "No." Hilda''s reaction was

    immediate, her tone sharp with fear. There was no hesitation. She

    couldn''t help her own selfishness Citrine was her only daughter, and she couldn''t bear the thought of losing her-not even for the sake of her biological father.

    After all these years, she''d only just gotten her daughter back. If anything happened to Citrine, Hilda wasn''t sure she could survive it.

    Citrine understood. She turned and took her mother''s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Don''t worry, Mom. I promise I''ll be back. I''ll be careful."

 Chapter 765

    Hilda''s eyes were red as she shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. I won''t let you go."

    Herschel and Inez Saunders exchanged a nce, both struggling to keep theirposure.

    They knew all too well just how dangerous Mirage Cay was. Of course, neither of them wanted their granddaughter anywhere near the ce. But after all these years, they understood her stubborn streak better than anyone.

    Once Citrine made up her mind, no one could change it¡ªnot even them.

    "Mom..." Citrine tried to reason with Hilda.

    But Hilda cut her off before she could finish. "Citrine, there''s no way I''m agreeing to this. I just found you again¡ªhow could I possibly let you walk into a lion''s den like Mirage Cay? Just thinking about what happened to you there, even in my nightmares, breaks my heart. If I could, I''d take your ce in a heartbeat. There''s no way I''ll let you risk yourself again."

    She knew, of course, that Raymond was Citrine''s father, and how deeply her daughter cared for him.

    After a moment, Hilda took a deep breath. "Citrine, please listen to me. Stay home. I''ll go to Mirage Cay myself."

    Seeing the protest in her daughter''s eyes, Hilda pressed on, her voice softer but determined. "Don''t worry. I promise, I''ll do everything I can to bring Raymond home."

    Citrine understood Hilda''s refusal was born out of fear for her safety. But how could she possibly let her mother face that danger alone? The thought of both her and Raymond trapped on Mirage Cay made her heart race with anxiety.

    She steadied herself and insisted, "Mom, Mirage Cay isn''t just any ce. You don''t know the rules there, or how to get around-it has to be me. If there''s even a sliver of hope, it''s with me going."

    But Hilda was resolute. "No. That''s final. Citrine, you need to stay here. I''m making the arrangements to go overseas."

    Since Citrine hade home, Hilda had spoiled her unconditionally, rarely ever putting her foot down. This was the first time she''d been so firm.

    After making her decision clear, Hilda shot a pointed look at Monica and Wade Saunders, her gaze carrying an unmistakable warning.

    "You two-keep an eye on Citrine. Don''t let her leave the Saunders estate. If she tries, you''ll answer to me."

    Her tone left no room for argument. Monica and Wade flinched, then hurried to nod in agreement.

    "Yes, Aunt Hilda. We''ll make sure Citrine stays put."

    It wasn''t just fear of Hilda''s wrath that made them so quick toply they genuinely didn''t want their sister risking herself on Mirage Cay. After all they''d gone through to bring her home, the thought of losing her again was unbearable.

    Hilda had slipped back into her old, no-nonsense.self, sharp andmanding. Monica and Wade nced at each other, both recalling the formidable aunt from their childhood a force to be reckoned with. The memory sent a chill down their spines.

    Citrine, however, didn''t seem fazed in the slightest. Her expression was

    unreadable, giving nothing away.

    That afternoon, she made a call to the Carmichael family.

    Raymond''s father, Weston Carmichael, picked up.

    "Well, if it isn''t my troublemaker. Missing your granddad already?"

    Weston''s voice was warm, but weary.

    Citrine''s gaze darkened. She should have realized sooner. She was supposed to be splitting her time between the Carmichaels and the Saunders, but she''d been at the Saunders estate for three months straight. Normally, the Carmichaels would have called, asking when she wasing over-but this time, they hadn''t said a word.

    They knew. Maybe they''d been keeping secrets from her all along.

    After a short silence, Citrine asked quietly, ¡°Grandpa, what really happened to Raymond?"

    "Whatever do you mean? That rascal''s just on a business trip abroad, isn''t he?¡± Weston''s voice rose a notch, the tone just a bit too forced-like he was trying to hide something.

    Citrine didn''t hesitate. "Grandpa, you don''t have to pretend. I know. Raymond was taken by people from Mirage Cay."

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 766

    Realizing there was no way to keep up the charade any longer, Raymond''s father, Weston Carmichael, let out a heavy sigh and finally decided toe clean to his granddaughter.

    "The pain you suffered on Mirage Cay has always been a thorn in your father''s heart. From the very beginning, he was determined to go to the Federated States of Magnolia to look into what happened there. As soon as he wrapped up his work overseas, he started investigating Mirage Cay."

    "But the whole thing is locked down tight. Anyone who knows anything has been silenced, so your dad couldn''t find a single lead. After a few days of hitting dead ends, he decided to go to Mirage Cay himself."

    "Ever since he left for Mirage Cay, he''s cut off all contact with us. The people I sent after him haven''t been able to find any trace of him either." Weston''s voice was utterly exhausted, filled with helplessness.

    On the other end of the line, Citrine''s tone dropped. "How long has he been gone?"

    Weston replied in a low voice, "It''s been a month."

    At that, Citrine''s voice shot up. "Why didn''t you tell me sooner?¡±

    "Your father wouldn''t allow it. He was afraid you''d worry," Weston answered.

    Truthfully, none of the Carmichaels wanted to bring this up with Citrine. They were afraid she''d be reminded of those painful memories, afraid she''d be heartbroken all over again.

    Not wanting his granddaughter to do anything reckless, Weston hurried tofort her. "Sweetheart, don''t worry. Your uncle Manley and I will handle this. You just focus on your studies, all right?"

    Citrine gave a half-hearted reply and hung up the phone.

    How could she possibly stay calm, knowing Raymond Carmichael was missing on Mirage Cay, his fate uncertain?

    She simply couldn''t.

    She pulled out her suitcase, packed a few changes of clothes and some toiletries, then tucked the bag away in her closet.

    By now, her mother should have already left the house.

    No matter what, Citrine knew she had to go out. She pressed her ear against the door, listened for a while, and, hearing nothing outside, tiptoed out of her room.

    She crept downstairs, but as she reached the foot of the stairs, she heard a soft cough behind her.

    Citrine froze. Turning around, she saw Wade Saunders sitting up on the couch. He eyed her warily. "Citrine, where do you think you''re going?"

    Citrine said nothing, instead putting on her best vulnerable, doe-eyed look-one that would melt even the hardest heart.

    Wadested only a moment before he caved.

    "Don''t look at me like that, Citrine."

    He cleared his throat, trying to sound firm. "Aunt asked me to keep an eye on you. No matter what, you''re not leaving today."

    Mirage Cay was a dangerous ce, and Citrine was family they''d only just gotten back. Even without their aunt''s request, he wouldn''t let his little sister go.

    Citrine sighed, exasperated. "Wade, what if I insist on leaving?"

    Wade''s brow furrowed deeper, his voice just as resolute. "Citrine, Mirage Cay is far too dangerous. I can''t let you go, no matter what you say."

    "I finally have a little sister-I''m not losing you," Wade said, his voice catching.

    Citrine understood. She knew he was only worried for her.

    But with Raymond''s fate hanging in the bnce, how could she just sit back and do nothing?

    "Wade, Raymond is my father. As

    long as he''s on Mirage Cay, I can''t rest for a single day. Besides, I know

    that ce better than anyone Please let me go."

    Her voice was pleading. Wade turned his head, unable to watch her suffer, his tone softening.

    "Citrine, if anything happens to you, it''ll destroy Aunt. You''re her whole world."

    Citrine promised again and again, "I''ll take care of myself, I swear. Please, help me."

    "No." Wade still refused.

    Seeing this wasn''t working, Citrine decided to y her trump card.

    With tears in her eyes, she crouched down and began, "Back when I lived with the lyersons, I could only watch as Jete was showered with love by Sawyer. Whenever Jete and I had a conflict, Sawyer always took her side. I knew him longer than she did, but because I wasn''t his real daughter, he could just cast me aside. I was jealous. I resented them."

    She sniffled and continued, "It wasn''t until I returned to the Carmichaels that I finally had what I''d always envied, Raymond doted on me.

    endlessly, always put me first

    For

    the first time, I knew what it was to be foved."  s?novel

    "He''s in trouble now. I can''t just stand by. Wade, I can''t lose Raymond. Please- let me go."

    Facing away from Wade, Citrine''s whole body was trembling.

    Wade waspletely thrown by her tears. Flustered, he hurried over and gently ced his hands on her shoulders. "Hey, hey, don''t cry, Citrine."

    She lifted her head, eyes red and glistening with tears as she met his gaze.

    They stared at each other for a long moment before Wade, atst, gave in.

    He pressed his lips together, aching with guilt. "Okay, okay, you win. I''ll help you." Citrine wiped her eyes, half-ying along. "Really?"

    He nodded. "Yeah."

    She dabbed away the rest of her tears, keeping up the act. "Then I''ll just step out for a bit."

    This time, Wade didn''t stop her.

    After she left and a few minutes had passed, Wade''s brow furrowed as an uneasy feeling crept over him.

    Talking to himself, he muttered, "Why do I get the feeling I''ve just been yed?" He shook his head. "No-must be my imagination."

 Chapter 767

    After leaving the Saunders family estate, Citrine made her way to the headquarters of the Vermillion Vanguard.

    At the moment, Ogden Winthrop was deep in discussion with several subordinates. When he spotted Citrine step through the doorway, his eyes lit up.

    He waved off the young man across from him. "Alright, let''s pick this upter."

    With a broad grin, he strode over and pulled Citrine down onto the couch beside him.

    "You little rascal, what finally brought you to see your old granddad?" Ogden''s words were gruff, but the joy in his voice was unmistakable.

    Citrine''s expression was serious as she looked at him. ¡°"Grandpa, I''m here because I need your help."

    Ogden blinked in surprise, then broke into augh. "Well, well. The stubborn girl actually needs a favor? Let''s hear it."

    She didn''t hesitate. "I want to temporarily rejoin the unit."

    Hearing this, a sh of pride crossed Ogden''s face, but the word "temporarily" gave him pause.

    He frowned. "Exactly what do you mean by ''temporarily''?"

    Citrine''s voice was steady and resolute. "I need to take a team to Mirage Cay. There are hostages to rescue."

    At the mention of Mirage Cay, Ogden''s face changed in an instant.

    "No."

    He refused her on the spot, not even sparing it a thought.

    Citrine''s tone was calm but firm. "Grandpa, Raymond went to Mirage Cay for my sake. I have to get him out."

    Ogden let out a long, weary sigh. His opposition was fierce. "Listen to me, girl. We know next to nothing about what''s happening on Mirage Cay. If you rush in blind, you''ll only be throwing your life away."

    Citrine stared straight at him. "Who says I''m rushing in blind?"

    Ogden was taken aback, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes. "You... You mean to tell me you''re confident you can wipe them out in one go?"

    She nodded. "Ever since I escaped from Mirage Cay, I''ve been gathering intel. Originally, I nned to wait until I''d finished dealing with some issues at home and carry out the operationter this year. But now, with Raymond''s life hanging in the bnce, I can''t wait any longer."

    Citrine admitted to herself that her motives weren''t entirely selfless, but she''d also spent months preparing every detail. When lives were on the line, she could never risk her soldiers'' safety on a whim.

    Ogden, of course, knew this about her.

    He exhaled sharply. As her

    grandfather, every instinct screamed at him to

    o say no-Mirage Cay was a nest of vipers, and one wrong move could mean death. But as the leader of the Vermillion Vanguard, his hands were tied. The ind had always been an insurmountable problem for their group. Now, Citrine had a real n, and he knew he had to back her. Too many of their

    people had suffered and died there.

    Agony etched deep lines into his face. He waved a trembling hand. "Alright. Do what you have to."

    Citrine''s eyes filled with tears.

    Suddenly, memories of her past life

    washed over her. Her depression

    had grown suffocating, and

    constant arguments with Theo. Glenwood only made things worse; she''d spiraled into self-harm By then, Ogden had uncovered that the Glenwood family was behind Mirage Cay''s horrors, but knowing how much she cared for Theo, he''d kept the secret, using it to pressure the Glenwoods into treating her well.

    But secrets never stay buried. The truth came out, and Ogden-who''d lived his entire life with a spotless reputation was ruined, condemned by everyone. The memory made Citrine''s chest ache.

    She reached out and clung to Ogden''s hand, her voice soft and childlike. "Thank you, Grandpa."

    He ruffled her hair, the affection in his eyes barely concealing his worry. "What am I going to do with you, huh?"

    She knew how much he worried, so she patted the back of his hand, reassuring him. "Don''t worry, Grandpa. I''lle back safe¡ªand I''ll bring our people home."

    Ogden could do nothing but relent to this granddaughter of his.

    The old man, always so full of life, seemed suddenly weighed down. "Promise me, girle back alive."

 Chapter 768

    Aftering to an agreement with Ogden, Citrine asked Wade to send her luggage over to the Vermillion Vanguard headquarters.

    Today, Citrine had already mapped out the Vermillion Vanguard''s mission to Mirage Cay, assigning each member their specific roles. Yet, as she considered the risks ahead, a heaviness settled in her chest.

    This mission was perilous-danger hanging over them like a storm cloud. It was the kind of operation where every soldier was staking their life.

    Because of this, Citrine decided to host a team dinner that night, giving everyone a chance to unwind together. The following day, she''d let the squad go home to see their families-just in case.

    That evening, after some discussion, they decided to keep things informal and eat together in the mess hall.

    When Citrine arrived, the soldiers rose as one.

    "Boss, you''re here."

    She nodded to them, signaling everyone to sit before taking a seat beside Sherman.

    With a major operation looming and their fates uncertain, tonight was their chance

    to let loose-if only for a few hours, drowning their worries in good drink.

    Citrine raised her ss. "Tonight, we drink till we can''t stand."

    A chorus of raised sses followed. "Drink till we drop!"

    Soon, the conversation turned to funny stories from past training sessions.

    "Boss, remember when you first started leading us? We didn''t take you seriously -thought you were too young, and spent all our time trying to prank you. In the end, you got the best of us every time."

    "I still remember how ridiculous we looked back then," someone else chimed in, grinning. "Honestly, it''s hrious in hindsight."

    Laughter rippled around the table, Citrine joining in. Those days had been tough, but they were also some of the most unforgettable moments of their military lives.

    The night wore on in a haze of stories andughter, everyone savoring the rare camaraderie and release.

    Citrine was just as happy as the rest of them.

    Then, one of the soldiers suddenly stood up. "Who knows if we''ll ever get to share a drink like this again? Let''s have another round."

    That was Rowell. He was a farm boy through and through-big, honest, and as unassuming as his name suggested.

    His words brought the whole table to a sudden hush. No one spoke; the mess hall fell into a heavy silence.

    Then Citrine broke it.

    "Row''s right. This mission is a one-in-ten chance. Are any of you afraid?" Her tone was light, as if she were just asking what they''d had for dinner.

    The response was immediate and indignant.

    Sherman spoke first, his voice steady. "What''s to be afraid of? We''re part of the Vermillion Vanguard. Our duty is to take on missions for our country. If we have to give our lives, then so be it-we''d do it without regret."

    "That''s right, Boss. Don''t underestimate us. We''re your soldiers. We''d never disgrace you."

    "Yeah! If we were scared, we wouldn''t deserve this uniform."

    "Boss, none of us are afraid. From the first day we joined the Vanguard, we knew we were dedicating our lives to the country. Now, with the mission looming, if we bailed, We''d be cowards-and we''d never have the nerve to call ourselves your team again."

    "And let''s be real," someone added, "everyone knows that as long as you''re leading us, the odds are always in our favor, no matter how bad things get." It was true-under Citrine''smand, casualties were always kept to a minimum. That was her reputation.

    Most of these soldiers had fought by Citrine''s side for years. Some had even been

    handpicked from Hastings Cooper''s unit.

    In Citrine''s eyes, they were all outstanding.

    Hearing their words, she felt a deep sense of pride. "You''re the best soldiers I could ask for," she said quietly.

    Just then, Hastings stormed in, catching Citrine mid-drink. He marched right over and snatched the ss from her hand.

    Stunned, Citrine spun to re at him-only for him to blurt out first, his voice rough with emotion.

    "Why wasn''t I chosen? I''m the best soldier in ourpany!" Hastings'' eyes were red, and there was an edge of wounded pride in his tone.

    Citrine had no patience for this. "I had my reasons for not picking you. Don''t make a scene here."

    Hastings wasn''t backing down. "Reasons? What reasons? Tell me why am I the only one left out?"

    Most of his squad had been selected for the mission-everyone except him. Furious, he''d gone to the higher-ups, only to be told that the final call was Citrine''s alone.

    So he''de storming in, demanding answers.

    Citrine said nothing, her jaw set.

    Hastings, growing desperate, let his temper fly. "Don''t think you can single me out just because of some personal grudge. I have every right to be on this mission! I''m the best soldier we''ve got-why am I being left behind?"

    His voice was forceful, his stance unyielding.

    If the mission was dangerous, all the more reason for him to go-especially since Citrine was leading it.

    A few people nced at Citrine, as if they wanted to speak up for Hastings, but no one dared.

    Fighting back her irritation, Citrine finally exined, ¡°This isn''t personal. The reason you''re not going is because the Cooper family is involved in what''s happening on Mirage Cay. You need to stay behind¡ªno exceptions."

    Hastings'' face went pale with disbelief. "That''s impossible!"

    Citrine didn''t borate. For the safety of the mission, she gave the order to have Hastings confined until it was over.

    "Release him when the operation is done."

    Once the others understood, any lingering desire to speak up on Hastings'' behalf vanished.

 Chapter 769

    The next day, those soldiers who lived nearby went home to visit their families, while those farther away sent letters back.

    Citrine, though, didn''t go anywhere. She dreaded the thought of returning to either the Saunders or the Carmichael families, knowing all too well that they''d try to talk her out of leaving. So she simply stayed put.

    She spent half the day tying up loose ends at thepany, making sure

    everything was in order. Just as she was about to leave, Sebastian Vesper walked into her office.

    "What is it?" Citrine asked, her brows knit with confusion. So much had happenedtely that she''d almost forgotten what Sebastian had said to her back on Whisperwind Cay.

    He ced a letter on her desk. "This is my resignation."

    She stared at him, stunned, and barely had a chance to respond before Sebastian continued, "This is a report on Steris Group''s system vulnerabilities, along with their industry''s weak spots. If CICI Group targets these areas, sooner orter you''ll have Steris Group in the palm of your hand.¡±

    Citrine''s eyes widened in shock as he held out a sh drive, his long fingers steady and unflinching.

    For a brief moment, she felt like she was dreaming.

    She''d originally brought him into CICI Group with her own agenda. Later, she regretted it and asked him to leave, but he refused. Now, he was the one resigning

    and handing her the weaknesses of Steris Group on a silver tter.

    Her chest tightened with a swirl of emotions she couldn''t name.

    "I don''t want it," she said atst, her voice thick. She stared at him for a long time, but couldn''t bring herself to take the sh drive.

    Sebastian hesitated, frowning in confusion. "Why not? Isn''t this what you wanted?"

    Citrine swallowed hard, then forced herself to apologize. "I''m sorry. I wasn''t honest with you at the start-I used you. That''s why I can''t ept this."

    She made her stance clear.

    But Sebastian was even more resolute.

    Ignoring her protest, he grabbed her hand and pressed the sh drive into her palm.

    "I know," he said softly. "But I did it willingly."

    After a pause, he added, "Besides, that chairman of Steris Group is no saint. If he ever tries to hurt you again, you''ll have this. If he gives you trouble, let the whole Steris Group go down with him."

    Citrine just stared at him, her eyes stinging. What a fool, she thought. He didn''t even realize he himself was the chairman of Steris Group.

    "What''s wrong?" Sebastian asked, unsettled by her expression. He''d never seen her like this before.

    Citrine shook her head, steadying herself. "It''s nothing. Didn''t sleep wellst night. My eyes are just tired."

    He saw through her excuse but didn''t push.

    "I''ll finish my work today and won''te in tomorrow," he said quietly.

    For a second, Citrine was lost for words, but she nodded quickly.

    After leaving the office, Sebastian headed for the restroom. As he passed the

    stairwell, he overheard voices drifting from thending.

    He wasn''t the type to eavesdrop, and was about to walk away, but paused when he heard Citrine''s name.

    A few female employees were chatting during their break.

    V

    "Hey, did you notice President Carmichael today? The way she gave us instructions-it felt like she was saying herst words," one of them said.

    "I know, right? She''s seemed off all day. Maybe something''s going on at home?"

    "Maybe. Why else would she go through the next five years''pany goals and strategies in such detail?"

    "Exactly. She''s never done that before. The way she talked-it was almost spooky, like she thought she might not be here much longer."

    "Ugh, President Carmichael has always treated us so well. Whatever''s happening, I just hope she''s okay."

    "Seriously. Without her, who''s going to look out for us overworked grunts?"

    "Let''s just hope it''s nothing. Maybe we''re reading too much into it."

    Just then, a low male voice startled them. "What are you talking about?" Sebastian strode up to them.

    The look in his eyes was nothing like the gentle warmth he showed Citrine. Instead, his gaze was icy and intimidating.

    Having worked under President

    Vesper for years, the staff were used to his imposing presence, but today, they realized Citrine hadn''t called him to the morning meeting. That small detail made them hesitate.

    Sebastian waited. When none of them spoke, his face hardened further. "I heard everything. Speak up."

    Realizing there was no use hiding, one woman finally answered, "Mr. Vesper, President Carmichael called a meeting this morning. She went over CICI Group''s n for the next five years and gave us new assignments. That''s all. The rest was just us specting. Please don''t worry about it."

    "Five years?" Sebastian repeated, taken aback.

    His expression changed. He turned and left without another word.

    When he reached Citrine''s office, he was told she had already gone.

    Panic started to rise in his chest. For her toy out a five-year n... something serious must have happened.

    He pressed for information until someone finally told him which way Citrine had gone. Without hesitating, Sebastian rushed out after her.

 Chapter 770

    Citrine was about to get into the car when she spotted Sebastian striding toward her, clearly agitated.

    She paused, caught off guard by his unexpected appearance.

    "What are you doing here?"

    Sebastian''s face was unreadable, his eyes fixed on her.

    "Where are you going?"

    She blinked, unsure what he meant.

    "Sorry?"

    His voice was low and tense. "Why did you suddenlyy out a five-year n for thepany? What''s going on?"

    Citrine hesitated, searching his face before answering. "I have some things I need to take care of."

    She clearly had no intention of borating.

    But Sebastian refused to let it go, stubbornly holding her gaze. "What kind of things?"

    Citrine pressed her lips together and nced away, avoiding his eyes, silent for a long time.

    "Has something happened?" Sebastian''s frown deepened. He couldn''t shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong-Citrine would never just walk away from thepany she cared about unless it was dire.

    She looked back at him and shook her head. ¡°It''s just some personal business. That''s all."

    Her evasiveness only fueled his worry.

    After a moment, he tried again. "I''m not who I used to be. SC Group''s influence is all over Crestwood now, and we''ve got some reach abroad, too. If you need anything-"

    But before he could finish, Citrine cut him off. "Thank you, but I can handle it myself."

    Sebastian started to protest, but she anticipated him. "I have to go. There are things I need to do."

    With that, she climbed into the car, leaving him standing there with any further words dying on his lips.

    After she left, Citrine headed to a random hotel owned by CICI Group, her suitcase in tow.

    Meanwhile, chaos erupted at the Saunders estate.

    Hilda Saunders had just finished arranging the details for her trip abroad when she returned to fetch something¡ªonly to discover that Citrine was gone.

    Now she sat on the living room sofa, her expression thunderous, as though she were ready to explode at any moment.

    Monica Saunders and Wade stood off to the side, too frightened to utter a word.

    Hilda''s voice was ice-cold as it cut through the silence. "Didn''t I tell you to keep an eye on her? How did she manage to leave?"

    Her re pinned Monica and Wade in ce.

    When neither answered, Hilda mmed her palm on the table.

    "Well? Speak up, or do you want me to deal with you the old-fashioned way?"

    Wade flinched involuntarily.

    Hilda noticed immediately.

    "It was you, wasn''t it?" she demanded, her tone sharp.

    Wade knew his aunt well enough-she wouldn''t let this go until she got answers.

    "It was me," he admitted, staring down at the floor.

    Before Hilda could respond, Wad?

    pressed on. "Aunt Hilda, I just couldn''t bear to see my sister so miserable. You don''t understand-if

    we stopped her, she would have

    been devastated."

    Hilda''s voice trembled with suppressed fury. "You couldn''t bear to see her upset,

    but you can bear to watch her walk into danger?"

    The word "danger" sent a chill through Wade, and pain flickered in his eyes. But he quickly gathered himself.

    time Citrine''s ever

    "This is the first tir

    been so serious about something,"

    he said, looking Hilda straight in the eye. "You know her better than anyone. She''s terrified of regret. If

    we keep her from going, she''t spend the rest of her life haunted by what-ifs."

    As her mother, Hilda understood all too well.

    A sh of anguish crossed her eyes.

    "All I want is for my daughter to live a long, happy life," she whispered. "Even if it

    means she''ll hate me for it."

    She took a shuddering breath, then turned icy again.

    "Wade, get on your knees."

    Monica''s face went pale. She immediately knelt beside him.

    "Aunt Hilda, please let Wade off this time. It was my fault, too. I was upstairs that

    day. I could have stopped him, but I didn''t."

    It was true-Monica had seen everything and chosen to turn a blind eye.

    Wade dropped to his knees as well.

    Hilda''s expression only grew colder.

    "I should have known. Monica, you''re always so reliable-unless you wanted this

    to happen. Since you''re both responsible, you''ll both be punished."

    She signaled to the staff, who quickly filed out of the room, leaving them alone.

    Once the door closed, Hilda spoke. ¡°All right. Time for the family discipline." Two of the house''s security staff stepped forward, handing Hilda a leather strap. She ran her fingers over it, her eyes steely, and was just about to bring it down when amotion erupted outside. She paused, scowling.

    "What is it?" she snapped at the flustered maid who rushed in.

    "It''s Miss Citrine¡ªshe just called," the maid said, holding out a phone. "She tried the house line, but no one picked up, so she called me."

    Some of the tension drained from Hilda''s face. She snatched the phone, urgency in her voice.

    "Give it here."

    Before she could say anything, Citrine''s voice came through the line, steady and resolute.

    "Mom, I have to go to Mirage Cay.,

    Please don''t punish my brother

    sister. If you need to me

    vnd

    someone, wait until Ie back and punish me instead."

    "You''re killing me, Citrine," Hilda choked out, furious yet helpless.

    "Mom, if I don''t go, I''ll regret it for the rest of my life."

    Before Hilda could answer, Citrine hung up.

    Behind her, the bodyguard still held out the strap. ¡°Madam, should we continue

    the punishment?"

    Hilda didn''t reply. She just shot Monica and Wade a cold re before sweeping out of the room.

    Only after she''d gone did Monica and Wade breathe a sigh of relief.

    Wade managed a shakyugh. "Thank God for my sister. If not for her, I''d be

    stuck in bed for days."

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 Chapter 771

    The next day, Citrine and her team boarded a flight to the Federated States of Magnolia.

    After making all the necessary arrangements, Citrine took the initiative to reach out to the ind''s owner.

    She had spent so much time on Mirage Cay that she knew plenty of inside information; getting in touch with someone from there was hardly a challenge for her.

    Later, Citrine changed and went alone to a quiet restaurant.

    Her contact was already waiting when she arrived.

    From across the room, she immediately recognized his familiar silhouette. Calm andposed, she walked right over and took the seat across from him without hesitation.

    The man wore a mask, revealing only a pair of eyes-eyes that now bore the fine lines of age at their corners.

    Citrine narrowed her gaze, studying those eyes she knew so well.

    "Well, Mr. Jeff, it looks like the years have finally caught up with you," she said smoothly.

    He stared at her for a long moment before replying, "That''s true. I''ve gotten old, while you somehow you''re just as sharp as ever, always a step ahead."

    She offered a wry smile. "Yet for all my cleverness, I still ended up locked away on Mirage Cay for years, courtesy of you."

    With that, she nced at the waiter and said softly, "Could I have some tea, please?"

    It was strange-here they were, enemies by all ounts, yet they sat across from each other like old friends who hadn''t met in years, sharing a pot of tea.

    Once her cup was empty, Citrine casually started ordering food, taking her time with the menu.

    The man''s gaze never left her, his eyes searching her face, trying and failing to read her intentions.

    When she finished, she handed him the menu. "See if there''s anything else you''d like," she said, almost offhand.

    He didn''t take it. Instead, he shook his head slightly at the waiter. "That won''t be necessary," he said, his tone cool. "You can go now."

    "Oh? You don''t want to eat with me?" Citrine teased, feigning innocence.

    "You know I never dine in public," he replied, brows drawing together, a flicker of emotion finally breaking through. "Just tell me why did you ask me here today?"

    She eyed the mask covering his face and smiled, her voiceced with irony. "From my very first day on Mirage Cay, you''ve always hidden behind a mask. All these years, what exactly are you hiding from, Jeff?"

    He gave a sudden, humorlessugh. "You haven''t changed a bit still reckless as ever. Aren''t you afraid I''ll throw you back on Mirage Cay?"

    Citrine put on a show of fear, shrugging dramatically. "Oh, I''m terrified! But honestly, Jeff, I doubt you''d risk it¡ªnot with what I know. After all, your biggest fear is that someone finds out about your sister, isn''t it? Given your reputation, if the truth came out, there are people out there who would tear her apart just to get to you."

    She tilted her head, lips curling into a sly smile. "Isn''t that right, Jeff?"

    His smile vanished. He red at her, fury darkening his expression.

    "How... How did you find out?" His voice was tight, almost strangled. "What have you done to my sister?"

    He looked stricken, unable to believe that she had uncovered the secret he''d guarded so carefully.

    Watching him squirm, Citrine allowed herself a satisfied smile. "Rx, Jeff. What could I possibly have done to your sister?"

    He tore off his mask, his face flushed with anger. "Where is she?" he demanded, voice raw.

    Citrine didn''t bother to lie. "Crestwood Medical Research Center."

    She smiled, almost sweetly. "Jeff, your sister is sick. What good did it

    do to leave her in the Aldridge

    family''s hospital? You must know those doctors are useless.

    She leaned back, pride in her tone. "If anything, you should be thanking me. I was the one who took your sister out of that ce and brought her to my own research facility."

    Jeff''s hands clenched into fists, knuckles white. There was murder in his eyes.

    Unruffled, Citrine poured him a cup of tea. "Calm yourself, Jeff. Have some tea." He didn''t move, so she shrugged. "Suit yourself. No tea, then."

    Her tone remained light and breezy, betraying nothing¡ªuntil, in the next instant, she mmed her cup onto the floor, shattering it.

    Her gaze turned icy. "You just don''t know when to quit. nning to kill me?" She scoffed. "By all means, go ahead. But just remember-if youy a finger on me, your sister will be right behind me in the afterlife. I won''t be lonely."

    Jeff''s expression was ashen, stricken with rage and fear. After a tense silence, he called the waiter over, asked for a new cup, and poured himself some tea.

    "I lost my temper earlier. I apologize," he said, pushing the cup toward her with both hands.

    Citrine epted it with a dismissive snort.

    Once she''d finished her tea, Jeff spoke again. "Miss Saunders, what is it you want?"

    Citrine didn''t bother with pretense. "Help me take down Mirage Cay. Get everyone out-alive and unharmed."

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 Chapter 772

    Mirage Cay wasn''t just tangled up with domestic power struggles¡ªthe real problem was its deep-rooted ties to the business elite of Magnolia.

    Jeff pressed his lips together, hesitating to answer. He couldn''t bring himself to ept, but he didn''t dare refuse either.

    After a long pause, he finally spoke. "I can''t give you an answer right now. Can you give me a few days to think about it?"

    Citrine smiled lightly. "It seems you still haven''t grasped the reality here, have you? Do you really think you have a choice?"

    Jeff looked at her steadily, his tone serious. "Mirage Cay is enmeshed with the capitalists of Magnolia in ways you can''t even imagine. You want to sever that ck-market chainpletely? It''s impossible."

    Citrine waved off his protest. "That''s not your concern. All you need to know is that your sister is with me."

    She paused, her voice cool. "And I know you''re nothing more than a loyal hound for the people behind all this, just following orders. I don''t need you to do much¡ª just follow my lead."

    This time, Jeff didn''t argue.

    His sister was all he had left in the world. Years ago, when they''d been dragged to Mirage Cay, the then-ruler of the ind had nned to harvest their organs. But Jeff had managed to kill the man, and afterward, he''d called the shadowy powers behind Mirage Cay, bargaining for his sister''s freedom. They''d let her go, on one condition: Jeff would work for Mirage Cay, forever.

    As Citrine turned to leave, she spoke again. "Jeff, in the next few days, I need you to make sure the people brought to Mirage Cay stay alive."

    She hesitated, then added, "Especially Raymond Carmichael. If anything happens to him, I won''t be able to keep your sister safe."

    Jeff froze for a moment, immediately thinking of the group that had been brought in over thest month. He nodded without hesitation. "Don''t worry. I''ll make sure of it."

    With their agreement in ce, Citrine finally set about preparing her next moves.

    She hadn''t brought so many people just to rescue the victims on Mirage Cay. Her real goal was to bring down the foreign financiers who''d O supported the ind''s grim trade.

    Over the years, Citrine had tracked down the shadowy investors behind Mirage Cay even discovering the true puppet master in charge. Now, all she needed was proof: hard evidence of the organ trafficking taking ce on the ind.

    In a few days, Magnolia''s wealthiest families would be gathering for a grand banquet. The very tycoon involved with Mirage Cay would be there. Citrine had already decided: she''d attend the event as the chairwoman of CICI Group.

    Her n was clear.

    In the meantime, all she needed to do was let word spread about her overseas

    business empire and her impressive achievements.

    Just as Citrine predicted, it took less than half a day for newspapers and

    television stations, both local and international, to break the news of her identity.

    #Reports say the chairwoman of CICI Group recently arrived in Magnolia to inspect her holdings.

    #Citrine Carmichael: The Youngest Self-Made Tycoon

    #Sources reveal that Citrine''s business interests stretch across multiple countries, and what''s more, shemands a globalwork of private investigators.

    #Herpanies alone number in the hundreds, and her investigators seem to know everything there is to know.

    The story spread like wildfire. By the very next day, a representative from Magnolia delivered an invitation to the banquet.

    He spoke wless English, every gesture radiating courtesy and respect. He made it clear how much Citrine''s presence was valued, urging her to attend as their honored guest.

    Citrine epted with a gracious smile.

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 Chapter 773

    On the day of the g, Citrine brought only Sherman, who posed as her assistant and walked close by her side.

    Sherman couldn''t help but praise her. "Citrine, only you could pull this off. Even the high society crowd overseas can''t help but extend you an olive branch after hearing about everything you''ve aplished."

    Citrine shook her head. "Not exactly. That might y some part, but the real reason is that the Archer family needs weapons and all the arms manufacturing overseas runs through our corporation. I''m just making a calcted bet, that''s all."

    Sherman beamed with pride. "No matter the reason, my sister''s the best there is." His eyes sparkled as he looked at her, radiating admiration.

    As soon as they entered the ballroom, all eyes turned their way.

    Citrine was the only woman from Northriver invited to this elite Magnolia gathering a fact that made her stand out immediately.

    Some of the foreign guests took in Citrine''s beauty, but just as quickly, their crude words tore into her identity and abilities.

    "A Northriver woman, of all things? Since when did we let that sort of nobody into a Magnolia high society event?"

    "Hmph, as the Northriver saying goes, she''s just a clown. Not worth our attention." "She''s got a pretty face, but that''s about it."

    The Magnolia elites, dressed in bespoke suits and glittering jewels, looked at Citrine as if she were some unsightly blemish on their perfect gathering.

    Sherman''s temper red at the nastyments. "Citrine, these arrogant bastards have no idea how to keep their mouths shut."

    He was about to march over, but Citrine caught him by the arm in a sh. "Raymond, we''re here for business. Don''t waste your breath on them."

    Sherman clenched his teeth but managed to hold himself back.

    Citrine walked forward, unfazed by the stares, and calmly found herself a seat. hout it all, she remained perfectly posed-almost chillin

    so-a

    if

    the contempt of those around her simply didn''t exist.

    After a while, the Magnolia crowd grew bored of specting about her and turned back to their drinks and chatter.

    Upstairs, a young man with blond hair and striking blue eyes sat in a wheelchair, watching the scene unfold below. A faint smile yed at the corner of his lips.

    He turned to the butler beside him. "This chairwoman of CICI Group might be from Northriver, but she''s certainly intriguing. Inviting her was the right call."

    He nced down at the rest of the guests and let out a soft, derisiveugh. "These people can only see her gender and where she''s from not a word about her

    aplishments. They''ll regret that soon enough."

    The butler nodded in agreement.

    Citrine could sense someone''s gaze lingering on her. She nced around and,

    sure enough, spotted those piercing eyes from the second-floor balcony.

    With a poised smile, she raised her wine ss in a small, gracious salute.

    Their eyes met across the room, and Vester-surprised-paused. No one had ever dared look him in the eye like that before.

    This Northriver woman was nothing like he''d expected.

    Recovering quickly, Vester offered her a smile in return.

    Everything was moving ording to n.

    Turning back to Sherman, Citrine murmured, that''s Vester-the Archer family''s youngest son. ording to my sources, his mother was a Northriver woman named Scarlet. She fell madly in love with the Archer family patriarch while studying abroad, but just as she was hoping to marry him, he told her he already had a wife. Scarlet was furious-she refused to end things, and when she found out she was pregnant, she thought she could keep him with the baby. But the Archer patriarch never loved her, and nothing changed."

    ???

    "After Scarlet gave birth to Vester, not only did she fail to win the patriarch''s heart, her desperation only made him despise her more. Scarlet eventually realized she would never have his love, and her feelings turned to bitterness-so much so that she began to take it out on Vester, who carried the Archer blood. She beat him, screamed at him-he grew to hate her. One day, during yet another violent outburst, Vester identally pushed her down the stairs. With no guardian

    left, the Archer patriarch had no choice but to take him in."

    Sherman pressed his lips together, genuinely moved. "That''s... that''s tragic. But

    to end up killing one''s own mother-he must be ruthless."

    Citrine nodded. "He''s far from simple."

    Before she could continue, Sherman suddenly caught on. "Wait-you''re not nning to use him to get into the Archer family and find evidence, are you?"

    Citrine nodded without hesitation.

 Chapter 774

    Everyone else at the table was clinking sses and trading toasts, but only Citrine and Sherman seemed untouched by the lively atmosphere, as if they existed in a world apart.

    Sherman leaned in and whispered, "Citrine, even though you control the weapons business the Archer family needs to partner with, they might show you some respect. But I doubt Vester would ever invite you to their estate."

    "He absolutely will," Citrine replied, her tone unwavering.

    Sherman stared at her, wide-eyed.

    She rified, "Though, it''ll be under the pretense of treating Vester''s legs."

    Citrine went on, her voice low and certain. "Vester might not be favored in the Archer family-he''s not even the head''s legitimate son-but he''s not someone to underestimate. He''s spent years searching for a cure for his legs. I''m sure he''lle to me sooner orter. It''s only a matter of time."

    As she finished speaking, Citrine caught sight of a man from the Northriver family approaching from across the room.

    He was dressed in a sharp suit, engaged in quiet conversation with a Magnolia gentleman nearby, but his eyes-restless and sharp-never left her.

    What''s he doing here?

    Citrine frowned slightly, eyes scanning him from head to toe, trying to figure out which of his personalities she was dealing with tonight.

    A momentter, Sebastian Vesper strode over and stopped directly in front of her.

    Citrine was nearly certain now-this was his alternate personality.

    "What brings you here?" she asked, her voice calm butced with curiosity.

    Sebastian ignored her question and shot one of his own back: "What about you? Why are you here?"

    The truth was, Sebastian was here because of her.

    After their parting back home, he''d had someone investigate and discovered that Raymond Carmichael had ended up on Mirage Cay.

    He knew Citrine would try to save Raymond-so he came too.

    After hearing she''d be attending this g, he''d called in a few favors and made sure he was on the guest list as well.

    Citrine narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.

    Sebastian finally relented, his gaze flickering with concern as he looked at her. "Is

    the mastermind behind Mirage Cay here tonight?"

    It was the only real reason she would attend an event like this.

    Realizing he''d figured it out, Citrine didn''t bother denying it.

    She met his gaze, her eyes clear and steady. "So you came here for me?" Sebastian nodded.

    She watched him, her expression shifting. Not long ago, he''d handed her his resignation¡ªwasn''t he supposed to be giving up on her?

    The thought slipped out before she could stop it. ¡°You already gave me your resignation."

    "Hm?" Sebastian looked confused.

    Citrine fumbled for words. Matters

    of the heart had always been a mystery to her. She tried to exin

    in her own way: "Yout

    took it as you giving up."

    "So I don''t get why you chased me all the way out of the country."

    She genuinely couldn''t understand what Sebastian was doing.

    But now Sebastian seemed stunned, and then, catching the real meaning behind her words, he almostughed in exasperation. Without thinking, he shot back, "When did I ever say I was giving up?"

    "You''re awfully young to be overthinking things like this," he added, shaking his head.

    It made it sound like she was the one being foolishly sentimental. Citrine was momentarily at a loss for words, a faint blush rising on her cheeks.

    Sebastian caught the flush and couldn''t help but smile.

    They chatted a bit more, but then Sebastian''s expression turned serious.

    "Whatever you''re nning next, I''m going with you," he said softly but firmly.

    He understood her abilities well enough. If she''d decided toe to Magnolia, she must already have a n. The least he could do was stay by her side-and be there for her, whenever she needed him.

 Chapter 775

    Citrine hadn''t nned on involving Sebastian in any of this, but he was insistent. After a brief discussion, they decided to attend the Archer family gathering as a couple.

    A few minutester, the patriarch of the Archer family emerged. As host of the evening, he led his son and daughter through the crowd, greeting guests with effortless charm. In truth, he was parading his children to expand their circle of connections.

    Citrine''s gaze lingered behind the family head, searching for any sign of Vester. He was nowhere to be seen.

    The reason clicked into ce almost immediately. Of course-Vester was the youngest, and the family patriarch could barely tolerate him, let alone introduce him to potential allies.

    Lost in thought, Citrine didn''t notice the Archer family head and his children approaching until he was almost in front of her.

    He was the first to extend a hand. "Ms. Carmichael, I''ve heard so much about you."

    Snapping back to the moment, Citrine quickly took his hand, greeting him in fluent English.

    Heughed heartily, his eyes shing with open admiration. "To achieve so much at your age is truly impressive. I hope you won''t mind my forwardness in inviting you tonight."

    Citrine answered evenly, "It''s an honor to have received your invitation."

    His appreciation for her seemed to deepen. He beckoned to the two people behind him. "Jason, Ileanae over here."

    Turning to Citrine, he made the introductions. "Ms. Carmichael, this is my son Jason. He''s currently handling operations for the Archer Group. And this is my daughter, who manages our financial affairs."

    "Nice to meet you," Jason and Ileana said politely, but their disdain was impossible to miss.

    "Hello." Citrine picked up on theirck of warmth right away. She had no intention of fawning over them-especially since she and the Archer family had a history of

    bitter enmity. With her current status, she had no need to curry favor.

    She gave the siblings a cool nce, not even bothering with small talk.

    The family patriarch was clearly annoyed by his children''sck of tact, but maintained a calm exterior. Then his attention shifted to the two men standing beside Citrine.

    "And these gentlemen are...?" he inquired.

    Citrine gestured to each in turn. "This is my assistant, Sherman, and this is my boyfriend, Mr. Vesper."

    The family head nodded

    appreciatively, a smile on his lips. "Ms. Carmichael, you''re

    aplished beyond your

    years and your boyfriend is

    distinguished gentleman. You make quite

    the pair."

    "Thank you," Citrine replied.

    Her expression stayed neutral, but Sebastian''s lips curled into a subtle smile at thepliment. He was still savoring the word "pair" when he failed to notice Ileana staring at him, utterly captivated, as if she''d just discovered her heart''s desire.

    Lat

    After a few minutes of small talk, the Archer family patriarch moved on.

    Once they were gone, Citrine took

    Sebastian''s arm and made a point of greeting the other guests. Most looked down on her roots in

    Northriver, and their coldness was obvious. A select few, however, observed social niceties even if their smiles were forced.

    Circting the room, Citrine and Sebastian quickly sized up the crowd and mapped out the web of alliances between the guests and the Archer family. Citrine nced up toward the second floor. Still no sign of Vester.

    Would he show up at all?

    She was pondering the question when the doors at the end of the hall swung open.

    All conversation ceased as every guest turned toward the entrance.

    A blond man with striking blue eyes was being wheeled into the room.

 Chapter 776

    The moment Vester entered, every pair of eyes in the hall turned to him.

    Whispers rippled through the crowd, no one bothering to lower their voices.

    "Isn''t that the third son?"

    "Third son? Please, he''s just the bastard''s kid. Everyone knows Mr. Archer can''t stand him."

    "If it weren''t for that mistress of his dying and leaving him without a guardian, there''s no way Mr. Archer would''ve brought him back into the family. A bastard born to a mistress-what a disgrace for the Archers."

    "And on top of that, the guy''s crippled. A total waste. Mr. Archer treats him like a stray pet-barely worth the trouble to feed."

    "I heard his mother was the one who crippled him. Do you know why? She broke his legs just so Mr. Archer might pity her enough to see her onest time. Pathetic, isn''t it?"

    "Honestly, what''s he even doing here tonight? Just an embarrassment."

    Mr. Archer''s face was practically green.

    He used to be the subject of praise in these circles¡ªyoung, brilliant, a prodigy in business.

    But ever since he brought Vester home, the only thing people remembered was his affair and this disabled son.

    How could he not resent them?

    These two had ruined the reputation he''d spent a lifetime building, branding him with a stain he could never wash away.

    And yet, Vester rolled in as if nothing was wrong, his expression calm, as though he couldn''t hear a word of the venom around him.

    Jason''s face was ice-cold, his jaw tight with contempt. "What''s that cripple doing here? On a night this important, he just has to show up and embarrass us."

    Ileana wasn''t any kinder. Shooting Vester a look of pure disgust, she muttered, "Should''ve had someone run that bastard down when I had the chance."

    Vester seemed oblivious to the hatred in his brother and sister''s eyes. He nodded politely to the guests around him, then wheeled himself straight up to Mr. Archer.

    "Father." The word was spoken, but the mocking glint in his eyes made it clear he felt anything but filial piety.

    Mr. Archer''s expression curdled. He all but ground out the words through clenched teeth. "What are you doing here? Get out. This is no ce for a bastard like you."

    Vester remained unruffled, and-where no one could see-a provocative smile flickered across his lips. "Sorry, I''m afraid I can''t do that."

    Mr. Archer''s fists clenched so hard he was close to shattering his own teeth. "Filthy brat. You''re just as low as your whore of a mother."

    A sh of something feral flickered in Vester''s blue eyes, but it vanished in an instant.

    He looked up at his father, a

    half-smile ying on his lips. ¡°That''s right. We''re low. I''m a bastard. But tell me, Father-if I''m scum, what does that make you, chasing after my mother when you already had a wife? Doesn''t that make you the king of bastards?"

    Vester''sughter was reckless, echoing through the shocked silence of the foom. He didn''t care who

    heard, nor did he spare a nce at his father''s thunderous expression.

    He continued, jabbing a finger in Mr. Archer''s direction: "Guess it takes two bastards to make one like me, huh?"

    As he looked at the man who was his father in name only, Vester felt nothing but revulsion. The same Wor his biological mother-both of them were just as vile in his eyes.

    "You ungrateful wretch! I''m your father!" Mr. Archer was livid, surging forward as if

    to strike him.

    But Vester was faster. He deftly wheeled himself out of reach, leaving Mr. Archer stumbling awkwardly in front of the entire crowd.

 Chapter 777

    Vester acted as if he didn''t notice the scowls on the Archer family''s faces.

    Under everyone''s watchful gaze, he wheeled himself toward Citrine.

    "Ms. Carmichael, could I have a word with you in private?"

    Citrine nced over her shoulder at Sebastian, then turned back and nodded to Vester.

    "Would you like me to push you?" she offered.

    "No need," Vester replied, shaking his head.

    The two of them-Citrine leading, Vester behind-made their way to a nearby sitting room.

    Citrine feigned innocence. "Mr. Vester, if you have something to say, please say it." She was simply waiting for his invitation.

    Vester regarded the young woman before him-barely twenty, yet already so aplished. Herposure revealed nothing, making her seem enigmatic and unreadable. No wonder Darius Archer, that old fox, valued her so highly.

    Vester couldn''t help but feel a flicker of excitement as he recalled what he''d learned about her: the cases she''d treated, the patients she''d cured, some with conditions that had stumped the best doctors in Northriver, others with rare illnesses hardly seen in the West. If she could do that-then maybe, just maybe, his own legs stood a chance.

    Vester looked at Citrine, his eyes betraying a hint of hope.

    "Ms. Carmichael, I asked you here because I''d like you to take a look at my legs."

    As he spoke, he absently ran a hand over his numb legs, trying to keep his voice steady.

    Citrine answered without missing a beat.

    She''d already gotten hold of Vester''s medical records and reviewed photos of his legs; they weren''tpletely atrophied-there was still a chance.

    Citrine crouched down and, without ceremony, rolled up his trouser legs.

    She moved so quickly that Vester barely had time to react. Startled, he stiffened. People in Magnolia were hardly conservative, so embarrassment wasn''t the issue. The problem was his legs-they looked awful, and he worried she''d be horrified. But Citrine simply examined him,pletely unfazed. She looked up and asked in English, "Can you feel this?"

    She pinched his leg gently. "Does this hurt at all?"

    Vester lowered his head and shook it, defeated.

    Citrine rolled his pant leg back down and stood.

    The hope in Vester''s eyes began to fade. Just as he was ready to give up, Citrine spoke again.

    "Although you can''t feel anything in your legs, based on the degree of muscle atrophy, there''s still a chance for recovery."

    Vester''s eyes lit up instantly. "Really?" He couldn''t stop asking, over and over.

    Again and again, Citrine reassured him.

    Vester was overjoyed his blue eyes, once dull and lifeless, now sparkled.

    Seeing his happiness, Citrine feigned hesitation, her voice uncertain. "However, you should be prepared mentally."

    "It''s alright. As long as there''s hope, I''m not asking for more." After years of hearing nothing but disappointment, Citrine''s words were a lifeline.

    "You''re overthinking it, Mr. Vester. I''m ny percent confident I can help you. What I meant was-the

    recovery process will take a one

    time. You''ll need patience for

    treatment and the rehab thates after."

    When he heard "ny percent," Vester''s eyes shone even brighter. "Ms. Carmichael, I can wait-I''m not afraid of waiting."

    He''d waited all these years; now that hope had appeared, how could he possibly be impatient?

    Then, as if remembering something, Vester''s expression shifted. He looked at Citrine and said, ¡°Ms. Carmichael, I''d like to ask you for a favor."

    "What is it?" Citrine already

    suspected what he''d say: he would

    ask her to move into the Archer tom

    e

    home. She''d learned that Vester

    suffered from severe OCD; he refused to visit hospitals, finding them unhygienic. All his treatments had been administered at home by private doctors. Though she''d anticipated this, she still put on a look of curiosity.

    "I''d like to invite you to stay at my house," Vester said, then quickly added, "Don''t worry, I''ll make sure you''re well taken care of. I can agree to three conditions-anything within my power."

    Citrine pretended to hesitate, then, after a long pause, finally nodded her agreement.

 Chapter 778

    The Archer family needed her to work with CICI Group, so there was no way they''d refuse Vester''s request.

    The very next day, Citrine moved into the Archer family''s manor.

    Of course, Sebastian insisted oning along; Citrine had no choice but to let him tag along.

    She slipped her arm through Sebastian''s, putting on a disy of affection for show.

    "Mr. Vester, this is my boyfriend," she said lightly, "He''s a little clingy and can''t bear to be apart from me, so I hope you don''t mind me bringing him along." Vester''s gazended on the man at Citrine''s side, surprise flickering in his tone. "Ms. Carmichael, you have a boyfriend already?"

    To Vester, it seemed almost impossible for someone at Citrine''s age to have aplished so much-there were precious few who could measure up to her.

    After a pause, he added, "Well, it makes sense. Someone as impressive as you surely has no shortage of admirers."

    Citrine responded with a polite smile.

    Vester shot a look at the butler. "You both must be tired. The butler will show you to your room. I''ll have someone call you when dinner is ready."

    Citrine and Sebastian thanked him and followed the butler through the grand halls.

    It wasn''t until they reached their destination that Citrine realized the butler had only prepared a single room for them.

    "One room?" she echoed, uncertain.

    The butler''s eyes nced between Citrine and Sebastian, a knowing smile at the corners of his mouth. "Ms. Carmichael, for your convenience, I arranged for the two of you to share this room."

    Before either could protest, the butler added, "I even had the bed swapped for arger one. I trust you''ll find itfortable."

    Citrine''s ears turned scarlet; she wished she could just sink into the floor.

    Sebastian, meanwhile, looked at her flushed face with gentle amusement. She was adorable when embarrassed.

    "Thank you," he said to the butler, stepping in when Citrine couldn''t find her voice. With that, the two stepped into their suite.

    The room was spacious, and in the center stood a huge bed-impossible to miss.

    Citrine''s cheeks grew even hotter. The sight made her strangely uneasy.

    Sebastian seemed to pick up on her difort. He smiled. "Rx, I''m not a monster."

    "I''ll take the couch tonight. You have the bed."

    Citrine eyed the narrow little sofa,

    then

    e

    neared at his tall frame-he was

    nearly six foot three. "That couch is tiny. You''ll never fit."

    She hesitated. "Why don''t you take the bed? I''ll sleep on the couch."

    She was petite herself, and the couch would be more than big enough for her.

    Sebastian shook his head, still smiling. "I''ll be fine. Don''t worry about me. Just be good and take the bed."

    At that, Citrine stopped arguing.

    She''d

    bit sleepen up early and was still a

    bit sleepy, and with that bed

    and with that massive

    ght in front of her, it was impossible to resist.

    Without another word, she flopped down onto the bed.

    Burying her face in the nket, her voice muffled, she called, "Sebastian, I''m tired. I''m going to sleep for a bit.¡±

    Sebastian didn''t quite catch her words. Watching the small, bundled figure on the bed, he asked gently, "What did you say?"

    Sleep was already pulling her under. Annoyed at being interrupted, Citrine frowned.

    "Don''t talk to me."

    Her tone left no room for argument.

    Sebastian could onlyugh softly. He walked over and tucked the nket around

    her.

    She soon drifted off, her breathing

    growing even. Sebastian found his gaze lingering on her curledshes,

    then drifting down to her softly parted lips. He swallowed, Adam''s apple bobbing.

    "To fall asleep that quickly... she really is something else," he murmured, shaking

    his head with a fond, helpless smile.

 Chapter 779

    Citrine was thoroughly exhausted, and for once, she slept soundly, showing no sign of waking even as dinnertime approached.

    Sebastian, worried she''d miss a meal and upset her stomach, finally leaned in and gently called her name.

    "Citrine, time to wake up."

    She didn''t respond.

    Sebastian sighed, settling himself on the edge of the bed and moving closer. "Citrine," he murmured again, his voice as soft as ever.

    Still, she showed no intention of stirring. Watching her sleep so peacefully, Sebastian couldn''t bring himself to raise his voice. With no other choice, he leaned in until his lips were almost brushing her ear and whispered, "Citrine, it''s time to get up."

    Half-awake, Citrine heard someone calling her name, but she was convinced she was still dreaming. With a faint furrow in her brow, she turned over, and in the next moment, her lips brushed against something cool and soft. Not realizing what it was, she absentmindedly thought it was some delicious candy, and even stuck out her pink tongue to taste it.

    Her eyes remained closed. She had no idea her lips were pressed against Sebastian''s.

    Sebastian''s eyes went wide in shock. For a moment, hepletely forgot what to do with his hands or where to look.

    Her warm, petal-soft tongue traced lightly over his lips, sending an electric thrill through every nerve in his body. His ears flushed crimson, and his heart hammered so hard he thought it might leap out of his chest.

    He knew he should pull away, but he was frozen in ce, caught between panic and a desperate wish for this moment tost just a little longer.

    After what felt like an eternity, Sebastian finally managed to pull himself together. Reluctantly, he sat up, his lips still tingling and damp with the taste of her. He licked them clean, savoring the fleeting sensation.

    Once he''d gathered himself, he leaned over her again, but this time he gently patted her back, coaxing, "Citrine, time to get up.¡±

    This time, Citrine finally stirred. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly came to her senses.

    All she could remember was dreaming of eating sweets, but now, awake, there was nothing left.

    Sebastian''s gaze lingered on Citrine''s dewy lips, his eyes darkening.

    After a brief pause, he cleared his throat and said, "Citrine, the housekeeper just called us down for dinner."

    Her stomach gave a quiet rumble, and at the mention of food, she immediately perked up, sitting up straight.

    She ran a hand through her hair and turned to Sebastian. "Let''s go, then."

    The Archer family had always made a point of dining together.

    When Citrine and Sebastian arrived, Vester, Jason, and Ileana were already seated at the table.

    Citrine nodded in greeting to the three of them.

    Vester beamed at them. "Ms. Carmichael, Mr. Vesper, good to see you. Please, have a seat."

    "Thank you," Citrine replied.

    But as she and Sebastian began to sit, Jason let out a pointed little scoff. It wasn''t loud, but it carried far enough for them to hear.

    Citrine nced across the table at him, and found Jason staring right back at her.

    Before she could speak, Jason''s

    tone turned cold. "Ms. Carmichael, Mr. Vesper, I know you''re our guests, but don''t you think you''re taking a few too many liberties? We''ve been waiting for you for ages."

    It was true; they werete. Citrine offered a polite apology. "I''m sorry. I overslept. It won''t happen again."

    She was nothing if not courteous,

    but Jason clearly wasn''t in the mood to let it go. He kept pushing, his eyes flicking from Citrine to Sebastian, ¨¤ mocking glint in his gaze. "In the middle of the day, no less. If the two of you can''t keep your hands off each other, maybe you shouldn''t be staying under our roof."

    Even Citrine, who usually let things slide, could see Jason was picking a fight.

    Her expression cooled. "Mr. Archer,

    if you''re going to be so aggressive, maybe you should check your own manners. You keep this up, and someone''s bound to take a swing at you."

 Chapter 780

    "You..." Jason''s eyes widened, his face twisted with anger. He never expected someone from a backwater ce like Northriver to dare speak to him like that.

    Right then, Ileana was staring daggers at Sebastian, who stood beside Citrine. Her gaze was so fierce it seemed she wanted to devour him. It wasn''t until Citrine spoke that she finally tore her attention away, turning her icy re to Citrine instead.

    "Ms. Carmichael," Ileana said coldly, idly twirling a lock of her blonde hair with disdain, ¡°you''re just a guest here. Since when does a guest talk to their host like that? I think you owe my brother an apology."

    Citrine gave a faint, cool smile, unaffected by the attempted slight. "Well, if the Archer family can''t tolerate our presence, then we''ll excuse ourselves."

    With that, she reached for Sebastian''s hand and gently pulled him to his feet. "Sebastian, since we''re not wee here, let''s go."

    Sebastian felt the softness of her hand in his, and his heart softened. He wrapped hisrge hand around hers, shielding itpletely.

    He didn''t spare the others so much as a nce as he rose, his face darkening. "If the Archer family hadn''t insisted on inviting us, we wouldn''t have bothereding."

    Then, with a gentle, indulgent tone, he added, "Come on, Citrine. Let''s go home." The two of them turned and walked away, not giving the others a chance to react. Jason was left fuming, the anger stuck in his chest with nowhere to go.

    Ileana''s eyes trailed after Sebastian. She''d noticed this Northriver man back at the dinner party-tall, handsome, athletic, easily the match of any Magnolia jock. She hadn''t had the chance to enjoy such a specimen, and now that this wretched woman was taking him away, she couldn''t help but feel a pang of regret.

    Ileana hesitated, about to say something, but Vester beat her to it.

    "Ms. Carmichael, wait."

    Citrine paused and turned back, a hint of a smile ying on her lips. "Yes, Mr. Archer? Do you have something to say?"

    She looked him straight in the eyes, and for just a moment, Vester had the uncanny sense she could see right through him.

    It was true-the Archer family had sent the invitation themselves. Still, Vester couldn''t help but wonder if Citrine''s appearance at the party was a little too convenient. Yet seeing how she and Sebastian really were about to leave after his

    siblings'' rudeness, perhaps they

    hadn''te with any hidden agenda.

    after all.

    After testing the waters, Vester realized pushing further would only push Citrine away for good.

    He put on a friendly smile, adopting

    were

    an apologetic tone. "Ms. Chael, I''m . My brother and siste out of line." Content belon

    Citrine gave a cold huff, her voice dropping to a warning chill. "Mr. Archer, just this once."

    Vester''s eyes flickered, but he quickly regained hisposure. He smiled reassuringly. "It won''t happen again."

    Citrine ignored him, taking Sebastian''s hand and returning to their seats.

    As soon as they sat down, the Archer family matriarch descended the stairs.

    Spotting Citrine, she greeted her

    warmly, "Ms. Carmichael, I asked the chef from Northriver to prepare lunch especially for you. Please, let me know if the menu suits your tastes?"

 Chapter 781

    Citrine offered a perfectly poised smile. "You''re very thoughtful. These are all things I enjoy."

    Once the Archer family patriarch took his seat, he finally noticed Vester sitting nearby.

    Remembering how Vester had brought Citrine to the house before he could, the patriarch''s expression darkened, and he barely managed to contain his irritation. After the patriarch sat down, even though Jason and Ileana were still brimming with resentment toward Citrine, they had no choice but to swallow it in silence.

    As the meal progressed, the patriarch struck up conversation after conversation with Citrine, leaving Jason and Ileanapletely sidelined. The two exchanged nces, their faces stormy, but there was nothing they could do about it.

    They simply couldn''t understand it: how could a nobody from a backwater town have earned their father''s favor so easily?

    The longer the patriarch talked with Citrine, the more animated he became-he seemed to forget about everyone else at the table. The two of them got along almost too well.

    Eventually, unable to hold back, he brought up Citrine''s business overseas. "Ms. Carmichael, I''ve heard business is booming for your armspany abroad. Tell me, have you ever considered working with Archer Enterprises?"

    He locked eyes with Citrine, waiting intently for her answer. At once, the entire table fell silent.

    Citrine met his gaze, her eyes unwavering.

    He waited, but no reply came. "Ms. Carmichael, is this something you''re not interested in?" The warmth in his eyes faded slightly.

    Instead of answering, Citrine said, "We only supply our weapons to the military. As far as I know, Mr. Archer, your group is strictlymercial, not military."

    Jason and Ileana couldn''t help but share a gleeful look¡ªafter all, thest person who''d dared refuse their father was now six feet under.

    They red at their father, expecting him to explode. But after a few tense moments, the patriarch simply burst outughing.

    "Ms. Carmichael, you''ve made it further than most. I''m sure you know as well as anyone that rules in this world aren''t set in stone. And if they can''t be bent, it just means the price isn''t high enough."

    He grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Tell me, then-what is it you want?"

    Citrine let out a melodicugh. "Mr. Archer, you know as well as I do, I''m not exactly short on money."

    He shook his head. "Money? At your level, of course that''s not what you''re after."

    He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the table, then leaned in, lowering his voice. "What I can offer you isn''t something so trivial."

    Citrine looked up, meeting his gaze with crystal-clear eyes. "Then what do you have in mind?"

    He replied quietly, "Resource sharing."

    Citrine''s interest was visibly piqued. "Go on. I''m listening."

    Seeing her intrigued, the patriarch was brimming with confidence. He ''t give everything away, b was

    willing to share a little the

    "In my possession are the medical specimens your people have been desperate to acquire. Not to mention cutting-edge tech products, and a whole suite of profitable software. If we pool our resources, we both stand to gain."

    Citrine arched an eyebrow. "Medical specimens? Tech products? Profitable software?"

    He nodded. "Exactly. I can''t go into specifics unless we have a contract."

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