The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 665

Leda's heart sank all the way to the floor.

Only now did she realize that the favoritism she'd always been so proud of was nothing but a cruel joke.

She stared hard at Hilda, eyes burning with resentment.

If Hilda hadn't insisted on "saving" her back then, none of this would've happened -no misunderstandings, no humiliation, and certainly not this spectacular public disgrace. In Leda's mind, it was all Hilda's fault.

Hilda strode toward her, gaze sharp and unyielding, issuing a cold warning. "If you hadn't gone after my daughter, maybe I would've kept treating you well. But you crossed the line. No one lays a finger on my little girl. Not while I'm still breathing."

Her voice was icy, her presence radiating the steely resolve of a businesswoman about to close a high-stakes deal or start a fight.

Whatever defiance Leda had left quickly evaporated. She shrank back, suddenly listless and defeated.

Hilda shot her a withering glance, then stepped closer, hooking a finger under Leda's chin before gripping her jaw with surprising force.

Her smile was mocking. "Leda, what do you suppose Mr. and Mrs. Marshall would think if they found out their precious daughter was falling over herself to be my goddaughter? How do you think they'd feel?"

She paused for effect, then raised her voice theatrically. "Oh dear, do you think they'd realize they raised an ungrateful brat?"

and one more thing-I

could respond, Hilda continued, "I heard the

in, voice dropping to a taunting whisper. "So, what do you think would happen if everyone learned you're actually

She lunged forward, grabbing Hilda's hand in panic. "No! Please, you can't

begging you. Please don't tell

out,

voice trembled with

society, but they had

those fools doted on her, handed her generous allowances, and indulged her every

were a rare

Leda wasn't stupid. She'd

desperately wanted Hilda's

to become

soar to

clearly, that plan had crashed

the Swift family was her only safety net, and there was no

was usually tolerant of girls Citrine's age, showed no mercy this time— nobody

to tell Mr. and Mrs.

luck," she