The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 689

"Happy now?" Quentin barked at Citrine, his voice sharp with resentment as he grudgingly took the seat furthest from her.

Citrine's expression never wavered.

She sat quietly, waiting until Quentin had completely vacated the spot. Once he was gone, she called the server over in her usual calm tone. "Would you mind cleaning this seat for me?"

The young woman froze, momentarily speechless—she'd never had a request like that before.

She glanced at Quentin. Even knowing he came from old money, she couldn't help but feel a secondhand embarrassment for him in this moment.

She'd always assumed Crestwood's rich kids were all swagger and bluster, never expected to see one so thoroughly put in his place.

What a mess this crowd is, she thought. Good thing I'm just a server.

The server hesitated, standing awkwardly by the table. Citrine looked up, meeting her gaze, then turned to Sebastian and held out her hand.

Sebastian blinked, unsure for a split second, then caught on. He slipped several crisp hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and placed them in Citrine's hand.

was reaching for more when Citrine shot him a

nearly laughed, quickly

inwardly at the expense. Still, she placed the stack on the coffee table and slid it toward the

as if she'd never seen anything more beautiful than that pile of cash. Not only was Citrine stunning, her voice was

vanish, the server blurted, "Of course I'll

hint of humiliation in her eyes now, only the hunger for money. Citrine's gaze drifted to the server's shoes-worn through at the toes, patched

incredulous. "Citrine Carmichael, what the hell

the corners of her lips curling, saying

in his chest. He couldn't breathe, couldn't swallow the

server set

inch of the seat, not sparing even cracks between

she'd just been paid handsomely

finished, she straightened up with

returning

softening, she turned to Sebastian and gestured for him to sit. "Go

beside Citrine as

looked like