The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 112

The display cabinet in the Iverson family home was filled with Jeanette's awards and certificates, tracing her achievements from childhood all the way up. Most were for second or third place, and some were little more than participation ribbons, but Sawyer treasured them all, carefully arranging each one as if it were gold.

Citrine used to dream of having a cabinet like that for herself. But when she'd asked, Sawyer brushed her off with a flimsy excuse about there not being enough space in the house.

She remembered a competition when Jeanette came home in tears because she hadn't won anything. That time, Citrine had actually placed, and she'd run to Sawyer, beaming. "Dad, look! I won an award!"

Instead of celebrating with her, Sawyer lost his temper.

He snapped, "Keep your mouth shut. What's there to brag about with some silly prize? Can't you see your sister's upset? How can you be so insensitive?"

He wasn't done. His voice went cold: "I don't ever want to see you waving your certificates around this house again."

Sawyer's face was more severe than Citrine had ever seen. The scolding frightened her so much that she never brought home another certificate.

wall covered in awards, Citrine's eyes stung. She whispered, "In the Iverson family, there was never

darkened, his voice sharp with anger. "That's the damn Iversons

time I've ever seen a wall covered with my own awards.

at Raymond with sincerity. "Thank you, Raymond." She could feel

your father. You're my daughter. No need for thanks," Raymond said with a chuckle, amused by her

her heart that he would always be this kind. But then something seemed to trouble

someday, you'll have children of your own."

father-daughter intuition, but he could

thought for a moment, then grew serious. "You'll always be

probably have a wife, and children would follow-it was only natural. Who knew if he'd turn out just like Sawyer? Still, Raymond's words

mood rubbed off on him, because when he went to work the next morning, nothing