Chapter 10

His sense of entitlement was so blatant, it was almost comical-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 class.

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, glaring daggers at the speaker.

Laird stormed forward and gave the kid a hard kick. "Mind your own business. Get lost."

Still, she put on a comforting

exchanged a look and chimed in, "Yeah, Clifford will always be one

a

from that unpleasant little drama with

house, Raymond was

life while living abroad, but had never published. Now

played around on her

this went on for a few weeks, and Citrine

a slice of bread and a yogurt, planning to slip back upstairs. But as she passed through the kitchen, the living

the housekeeper and cleaning staff would've already headed

pockets and strolled out of the kitchen,

with a pair of deep, unreadable

sound nonchalant, though she had nothing

Raymond's gaze drifted to her overstuffed pockets. His voice was cool

rubbing the back of her

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