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.

grew serious. "Dr. Carmichael, I imagine you've got something

three conditions from the start-and the promise I made

Mr. Vester, I won't

asked, "Do you know anything about Mirage

vanished; his whole body tensed,

Citrine, clearly guessing

he offered a word of

the less you

missed his reaction, and it didn't seem to surprise her

silent, his face

it drop. She pressed on, "I used

will you tell me

sometimes honesty was her

risk and bet that he'd help

was pure disbelief. "That's

on

plainly, "I escaped

to take a drug his company developed. It doesn't hurt your organs, but unless you get the antidote every month, you'll die—just like that. No one's