The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 718

Chapter 718

Jeanette felt herself unravel, her heart sinking into cold despair.

Citrine wasn't the quiet, withdrawn girl who used to swallow every injustice in silence. The person standing here now was dangerous-unpredictable, even a little unhinged.

Before long, Monica rushed in, clutching a first aid kit. "Citrine, I found it!"

Citrine immediately strode over and popped the kit open, efficiently laying out antiseptic, bandages, and everything else she'd need.

When she'd set it all out, she turned to Gorman, who was still standing there in a daze. Her voice was sharp with impatience. "Well? Are you coming over or not?"

"Me?" Gorman seemed momentarily at a loss.

Citrine's brow furrowed. “Is there anyone else here who's injured?"

She honestly couldn't understand how someone as shrewd as Gorman could be so clueless. She even wondered how he'd managed to turn the G Group into such a powerhouse on his own.

Staring at his already-bandaged hand, Gorman blinked in surprise, then shuffled sheepishly toward Citrine, as if he couldn't quite believe she was tending to him.

Citrine didn't look at him-her focus was entirely on his hand.

"Give me your hand," she said quietly.

Gorman obediently held it out.

"I only stopped the bleeding earlier," Citrine explained as she unwound the bandage. "We need to clean this properly and re-wrap it to prevent infection." She dabbed his wound with antiseptic, staunched the blood, and then expertly dressed it again.

take his eyes off his sister, so lost in

until Citrine spoke again that he snapped out of his

the next few days, keep it dry

care like

warmth spread through him. "Thank you,

he'd felt that kind of comfort-years since Citrine

police arrived

"Who called this in?"

forward. "Officers, Jeanette just attacked someone with a

witnesses," he

frowned. "Which one is

face was

So away, but Citrine

her. , that's Jeanette

there."

the police approached Jeanette and snapped the cuffs on her

the lead officer

erupted, screaming and flailing like someone possessed. "It was Citrine Carmichael!

the officers warned,

to escort

if I had a word with

exchanged glances, then

in close, she murmured softly into her ear,

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