The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 485

Seeing that he hadn't moved, Citrine looked up at him curiously. "Aren't you going to eat?"

Sebastian glanced at the plate piled high with lamb skewers, reached over, and picked one up, bringing it to his mouth.

It suddenly struck him that Citrine never seemed to eat meat. When they'd ordered earlier, she hadn't asked for a single skewer, opting for only a few vegetarian dishes. Now, staring at the mountain of lamb he'd ordered, Sebastian realized she'd made similar choices every time they'd eaten together-always leaning toward plant-based foods.

He studied her, puzzled. "You... don't eat meat?"

"No, I don't." Citrine put down the vegetable skewer in her hand, pausing for a moment before meeting Sebastian's gaze.

"Why not?" he asked. He'd never seen anyone stick so strictly to vegetables at a barbecue joint before.

Citrine looked right at him. Suddenly, her stomach twisted, and memories, long buried, surged to the surface.

Those years on Mirage Cay-she'd managed to win the island boss's respect with her skill and intelligence, but in exchange, she was constantly roped into helping him with his schemes. At first, it was just games and programming, but it didn't take long for the work to turn darker. They wanted her to build gambling sites, and later, even to help manufacture drugs.

did, so the boss

room.

cell watched over by brutal guards whose job was to break the will of the stubborn. No one

died herself, but even on the brink, she wouldn't give in and

and with medical skills that made her indispensable. The boss, afraid she might die, finally ordered

time, that she'd survived the worst. She had

worked, so the

No one knew what had been injected into them. By day, they shuffled around like zombies; by night, they came alive-truly alive,

the only one still fully human.

savage, attacking anything that moved. She had to stay on

things couldn't get any worse—until, after three days locked up with them and nothing to eat, the others started tearing into each

arms or legs, blood

gruesome trophies with

horrified, as a man whose hand had just been torn off seemed not to feel