The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 291

The sun in Crestwood was far more relentless than back in Havencrest.

On a sweltering hundred-degree day, four girls pushed through a round of push- ups under the blazing sun.

Although all four were struggling through the same drill, only Citrine's form was flawless her movements precise, her breathing steady, as if the exercise cost her nothing at all.

Meanwhile, after barely reaching their fiftieth push-up, Ingrid and the other two girls had collapsed, sprawled on the ground, gasping for air and utterly spent.

"Don't play dead. Up. If you don't finish on time, I'll add another hundred," barked Sergeant Hastings, a flash of scorn in his eyes as he walked over and nudged the trio with the toe of his boot.

The threat of extra reps was all the motivation they needed. Groaning, the three girls dragged themselves upright and forced themselves to continue.

Soon after, Citrine finished her set. She stood, snapped to attention, and called out, "Sir, I'm done."

Hastings blinked, incredulous. He shot a glance at the assistant instructor beside him. "She's finished?"

assistant gave a small

that. Hastings

and her friends finally finished, staggering back to the group,

before they could even reach for their water bottles, Hastings lifted the whistle dangling from his neck and blew a sharp blast, his voice cutting through

girls snapped to attention, wiping sweat from their

"Military training means no cosmetics-no exceptions. Each of you, take a pack of makeup wipes and remove everything

and

lined up with the others, collected the wipes,

a face in the crowd-Citrine's, impossibly fair and almost glowing. His brows knitted together, his stare

genuinely confused. "Excuse

simmering. He barked, "I'll give you one more

firm. "Sir, are you the one not listening? I

sudden, awkward silence

one had expected Citrine to