The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

The surgery with Vester was scheduled for the next day.

Early that morning, Citrine was up before dawn, meticulously preparing everything for the operation.

She hadn't even finished setting up when Vester arrived.

He settled into one of the chairs by the window, his face as composed as ever, giving the impression that today was just another ordinary day. Yet, the way he kept drumming his fingers against the armrest betrayed the storm of emotion beneath his calm exterior.

In truth, he could barely contain his excitement.

Last night, when Citrine confirmed the surgery time, Vester had nearly lost control -he'd almost tumbled out of his wheelchair, so overwhelmed he hadn't slept a wink. All night, he kept picturing this day.

Every day spent in that wheelchair felt like an eternity. There were moments he'd been so desperate, he'd almost given up hope entirely.

But now, hope had finally eclipsed all that pain.

Vester's gaze never left Citrine as she moved methodically about the room, gathering instruments and checking charts. His eyes burned with a quiet intensity.

When everything was nearly ready, Citrine looked up and caught Vester's gaze- his eyes were slightly reddened, glistening with a raw anticipation she'd seen countless times before, in patients who'd come to the brink of death only to be offered a sliver of hope.

She offered him the same gentle, reassuring smile she'd given those patients. "Mr. Vester, the worst is behind you. After today, you'll be able to go wherever you want."

Her eyes were so kind, so warm, it was easy to get lost in them.

always thought of himself as tough, unbreakable, but that gentle look softened something inside him. He couldn't help but surrender to

voice

the clock. "Let's get started. Go

and her assistants-colleagues she'd brought over from

tight, and every movement

nodded to Vester. "Lie down

did as instructed, and one of

noticed his hands

her

whisper as she

hurt much."

His eyes widened, and with her breath soft

the monitor and frowned. "Your heart rate's a bit

off guard, Vester blushed, feeling awkward and a bit

simply assumed

about the surgery.

all,

big deal of

afraid of

"It's going

worry."