The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

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, incredulous laugh.

In all his thirty-some years, no one had ever dared to threaten him—least 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 before coming 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—so out of his control-irritated him.

His chest had been hurting a lot lately. 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?"

want to

to a fight with

alone in the downpour, Citrine stared at the

wanted her dead,

as

child!" she shouted at him,

take her home, Citrine turned and strode into the

a day full of accusations and now this final rejection,

into the downpour, Raymond's chest seized with pain

together with

to hide his sympathy. "Sir... are you

frowned. "What else am I supposed

mutter, "It's late, she could get into trouble out there..." Raymond

24-hour convenience store after leaving. She sat there, watching the ebb and

beside her snapped her

President Carmichael would

was sharp-she recognized the

was taking her back? Was

the sleek black limousine waiting

forehead, looking pale and drawn. Citrine glanced at him,

her gaze, Raymond turned

the stubborn set of her jaw; it was the

stabbing pain shot through his chest. Before

flat as she shrugged. Whether she truly didn't care, only she