The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

The next day, Citrine went to visit Vester with Sebastian Vesper.

Vester was in good spirits. Despite just coming out of surgery, he actually looked healthier and more energized than before.

When he saw Citrine, his expression softened noticeably.

Citrine didn't notice the change in his eyes. She settled onto the sofa, her tone casual and professional, as if she were just checking in on another patient.

"How are you feeling? Any discomfort anywhere?"

Vester shook his head. "No, nothing hurts."

Citrine offered a gentle reminder, "Just stick to the rehab plan I laid out for you. If all goes well, you should be able to get out of that wheelchair in about three months."

"Three months." For a moment, hope flickered in Vester's eyes. He looked at Citrine, his gratitude unmistakable. "Thank you, Dr. Carmichael."

"I'm just doing my job." Citrine's expression remained composed, but as a doctor, seeing her patient's steady recovery brought her real satisfaction.

She had given him a second chance, and Vester was deeply thankful. He hadn't felt this happy in years.

Of course, he was well aware this wasn't charity-there were strings attached.

serious. "Dr. Carmichael, I

conditions from the start-and the

straightforward, Mr. Vester, I

on him and asked,

the mention of those words, Vester's relaxed demeanor vanished; his whole body tensed, and an unmistakable

glanced at Citrine, clearly guessing

long pause, he offered a word of

honestly, the less you

bit, then." Citrine hadn't missed his reaction, and it didn't seem to

silent, his face clouded

pressed on, "I used to

you tell me

someone this guarded, sometimes honesty was her

a risk

pure disbelief. "That's

read his thoughts easily, a faint, knowing smile on her

spoke plainly, "I escaped years ago. And I

organs, but unless you get the antidote