The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 46

The entire makeup team was stunned the moment they laid eyes on Citrine.

They were no strangers to beauty—having 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 exclaimed. Honestly, this girl would look gorgeous without a single drop of makeup.

Citrine's complexion was so fair and flawless, like the smoothest porcelain. 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.

white, strapless cocktail gown that fell just above her knees. The soft fabric hugged her slender waist, making her look even more

shoulders and neck, and the delicate butterfly-shaped bones on her back that drew everyone's eyes

almost unreal," someone from the styling team whispered, unable to tear

was beautiful, but seeing her tonight left

a gleaming white pearl necklace, and fastened it gently around Citrine's neck. Each pearl glimmered softly, accented by sparkling

be worth a fortune?" Citrine ventured. She knew little about

"No, it's not about the price.

if it was a little

eyes shimmered; she opened her mouth to speak but found her

had built high walls around her heart, and if he wanted to reach her, he needed

at the grand ballroom, Raymond lifted his right arm. Citrine glanced at him, then slipped her hand into the crook of his

in the room turned

attention-she could sense the curiosity, the scrutiny, and, from a