The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 7

Citrine observed her surroundings in silence, careful not to let her expression betray a single thought.

Raymond's villa was a study in gray and white-minimalist, elegant, and yet, unmistakably opulent. Every piece of furniture and décor 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 play behind her sudden appearance.

As he considered this, a cold, calculating 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.

the moment the words left his mouth. No one ever questioned the boss's decisions-let alone

have lost his

his voice growing

from his brow and hurried out of the office as fast as

***

Grandeur Waters Residences.

had no idea a storm was brewing elsewhere because

quiet, but Butler Ismael was genuinely pleased that his employer had finally brought home his own daughter. And with good reason—the girl was so

please don't hesitate to come to me," he said warmly. Citrine

when Raymond-um, when

moment's thought, he replied, "It's hard to say, Miss. The master only comes home a few times a month-his work keeps him very busy, and most nights he

quickly, "But if you ever miss him,

the number for

didn't really want it, but seeing

her room, Citrine lay on the bed, staring at the number for a good

***

Raymond sat in

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

this loss of

confirmed. "Whenever I see her upset, the

tone was grave. "Raymond, your condition might be connected to your

about her