The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 582

Ever since school let out for the holidays, she'd been living in the Carmichaels' Crestwood villa. After so much time, going back there had started to feel routine.

By the time Citrine returned that evening, darkness had already settled over most of the sky. She wondered if everyone had already gone to bed.

Not wanting to wake anyone, Citrine tiptoed to the front door and quietly entered the security code.

She eased the door open. The villa was pitch black, not a single light on.

Assuming everyone had called it a night, Citrine let out a silent sigh of relief and reached for the light switch. But before she could turn it on, a burst of cheerful music filled the air. One by one, soft lights flickered on around the grand hall.

Gone was the usual minimalist decor. The whole house was strung with twinkling lights and fresh flowers, pale pinks everywhere. Wisps of white fog curled across the floor, making the villa look more like a fairytale castle, dreamy and unreal.

At that moment, Citrine spotted a gigantic music box spinning toward her, topped with an enormous bouquet of roses.

Were those real or fake?

She'd never seen roses so large. Eyes wide, she stepped closer, reaching out to touch them.

Suddenly, with a loud pop, the bouquet burst open. Red roses began leaping out, showering the room in a continuous cascade-a veritable rainstorm of blooms.

As Citrine approached, she realized that each rose was carefully folded from crimson bills.

A money shower, masquerading as a rain of roses.

Tacky? Maybe. But she loved it.

Just as she was puzzling over what special day it could be, the music swelled, and several people popped out from inside the enormous rose.

"Surprise!"

"Happy birthday, Citrine!"

There wasn't room for everyone in the giant flower, so the rest of them emerged from every corner of the villa.

Looking at all the faces, it finally dawned on Citrine: it was her birthday.

Except for last year, she'd hardly celebrated her birthday before.

never allowed herself to expect

from the day, and overtime, she'd

Travis, Sylvan,

al

her

could hardly believe they'd been invited; they felt like they'd won

with nothing extraordinary in their resumes, they'd

attending the birthday party of

was

thing

boast about for the

chimed in, grinning from

anyone would go to such

thank *you*! We should be thanking you for inviting

her phone, sidling up to Citrine. "Citrine, can I get a picture with you

in surprise, then nodded. "Of

wild with her phone, snapping shot after shot-one was more

Ingrid scrolled through the photos, nodding approvingly. "Look

arranging her and Citrine's

look! Even Ingrid's moving

been living in the Carmichaels' Crestwood villa. After

darkness had already settled over most of the sky. She wondered if everyone had already

to the front door

the door open. The villa was pitch

it a night, Citrine let out a silent sigh of relief and reached for the light switch. But before she could turn it on, a burst of cheerful

was the usual minimalist decor. The whole house was strung with twinkling lights and fresh flowers, pale pinks everywhere. Wisps of white fog curled across the

box spinning toward her, topped with

real

roses so large. Eyes wide, she stepped closer, reaching out

open. Red roses began leaping out, showering the room in a continuous cascade-a

approached, she realized that each rose was carefully

shower, masquerading as

Maybe. But she

was puzzling over what special day it could be, the music swelled, and several people popped out

"Surprise!"

"Happy birthday, Citrine!"