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.

shot

laughed, quickly

on the coffee table and slid it toward the server, giving her

than that pile of cash. Not

might somehow vanish, the server

in her eyes now, only the hunger for money. Citrine's gaze drifted to the server's shoes-worn through at the toes, patched up more than once. She allowed herself the

the whole scene unfold, was livid. He glared at Citrine, incredulous. "Citrine Carmichael, what the

corners of her

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

set to work

the seat, not sparing even

After all, she'd just been paid handsomely

straightened up

returning

Sebastian and gestured for him

seat beside Citrine as everyone in the room

like he