The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 87

When Citrine stepped out of the café, night had already fallen.

She was about to call her driver when, at the intersection ahead, she saw a black SUV collide head-on with a massive truck. The front of the SUV crumpled under the impact, thick black smoke billowing from the engine.

Within seconds, a crowd gathered at the intersection-most people standing back to gawk, none daring to approach the wreck.

Citrine slipped her phone back into her purse and pushed her way into the throng.

As soon as she made it to the front, she recognized a familiar face through the shattered rear window.

Her expression changed in an instant. Determined, she shoved aside the people blocking her way and forced herself through.

"Somebody call an ambulance!" she shouted before she got to the smoking SUV, her voice cutting through the buzz of the crowd.

Someone finally snapped out of their stupor.

"Hurry, call emergency services! If you wait, someone could die!"

was about to reach the car, a

thing's smoking—it could

you'd better stay away, it's not worth

do something

man inside. If he

she strode right up

emergency hammer, and smashed the glass at all four corners, carefully clearing the shards before opening the door

pinned under the seat. He was trapped

the wreck, working inch by inch to free the elderly man's

tight, and though Citrine was young, her strength was starting to fail her. Within minutes, sweat beaded

surprise flickering across

his eyes open, that familiar icy composure now

your strength." Citrine didn't look at him, focusing all her

shook and, without another word, did

managed to free his leg. She pressed her handkerchief to the wound to stop the bleeding, then climbed out of

she eased Weston out and propped his

strength left, old man?" she asked, glancing back