The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 49

After the party began, Weston called Raymond away, leaving Citrine alone in the

corner.

No sooner had she found herself standing solo than a man approached, eager for an opening.

"Miss, may I have the honor of buying you a drink?" The man wore a tailored black suit and exuded meticulous polish from head to toe. He'd been watching Citrine for quite some time, unable to hide the excitement in his eyes as he finally made his move-he'd never seen anyone quite like her before.

Citrine glanced over her shoulder at him, the hunger in his gaze making her stomach turn.

"No, thank you," she replied coolly, withdrawing her gaze with barely concealed disinterest.

She'd met his type more times than she cared to remember in her previous life, and she'd never had any patience for men like him.

The man hesitated, clearly not expecting to be rebuffed so bluntly. His expression soured, but remembering that Citrine was Raymond's daughter, he swallowed his irritation and slunk away without protest.

his own agenda-some drawn by her beauty, others hoping to curry favor with Raymond through her. Citrine turned every one of them

this were always built on self-interest, and Citrine found herself increasingly disenchanted. Rather than force herself to

they'd chosen for the soirée was as luxurious as it got even the gardens were

paths, she was suddenly startled by the

of

cigarette dangling from his lips. He watched the violence unfolding before him with a detached amusement, as if he were merely observing the world for his own entertainment. He radiated a

dark hair fell across his forehead, and the shifting glow from the garden lights played over his features, highlighting and obscuring them

seemed to sense her attention. He looked up and met her

a moment, Citrine was struck by his face-handsome, with sharp, almost forbidding features and a wild, unyielding spirit in his eyes, like a stallion no

she'd spent her entire youth trying-and failing to rein

then, she hadn't met Theo Glenwood until she was eighteen. Now, fate had brought them together

of her. There was something strangely familiar

ask,

Citrine replied, her voice calm. In her last life, she'd wished