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.

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

really must have

his voice growing

sweat from his brow and hurried out of

***

Grandeur Waters Residences.

had no idea a storm was brewing elsewhere because of

home his own daughter.

to me," he said warmly. Citrine

asked offhandedly, "Do you know when Raymond-um, when my

moment's thought, he replied, "It's hard

look on her face, he added quickly, "But if you ever

the

seeing Ismael's genuine concern, she didn't

Citrine lay on the bed, staring at the number for

***

in his office,

have gotten worse?" Calvin, his private physician, looked more serious than ever. He'd never encountered anything quite like this before. All

this

he confirmed. "Whenever I see her upset, the sensation

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

out about her today," Raymond said,

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