The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

In less than an hour, the team had taken control of the entire island.

When she saw Raymond again, he was slumped against the wall, a far cry from the sharply dressed man she remembered. He looked gaunt, almost unrecognizable.

"Dad." Citrine usually kept her emotions tightly under wraps, but the sight of him now made her eyes burn with tears she couldn't hide.

She spun around and shot a furious glare at the island's owner behind her, ready to explode. Jeff hurried to explain, tripping over his words. "No, it's not these wounds were from before. After you visited, I made sure he was well looked after. I swear, no one touched him again. The clothes are old, and the bloodstains— they're from before. It just... looks bad."

Jeff's voice trailed off into a mumble.

Raymond spotted Citrine then. His eyes went wide with disbelief.

"Citrine."

For a moment, Raymond wondered if he was dreaming.

"Dad." The way she looked at him made his heart ache. Her eyes shimmered with tears, and in the next instant, she flung herself into his arms.

Raymond staggered back a step, startled by the force of her hug, freezing up in surprise.

This was the first time he'd ever sensed such raw emotion from his daughter.

Something inside him softened. He awkwardly patted her back, trying to comfort her.

Then he felt the warmth of her tears soaking through his shoulder-hot, wet, and searing straight into his heart. Raymond found himself at a loss.

never let anyone see her vulnerable side before. It was the first time he'd seen her cry, and he had no idea what to do. His face tensed awkwardly as he stammered to reassure her. "Citrine, don't worry. The blood on my clothes is

up his sleeve to show her, eager to prove

was still obvious how severe

tone only made Citrine

she

you have to come to Mirage Cay?

her outburst. He stared at her wide-eyed,

tycoon from Crestwood suddenly looked like a chastened child, caught and

in disbelief. If they'd spoken to their own fathers

their boss? She could command soldiers on the battlefield, then turn around and lecture her own

the way back, Citrine's anger

I know I was wrong. Please, talk to me," Raymond pleaded, trailing after

shorter daughter, trying desperately to win

toughest soldiers, but Citrine remained unmoved, hard as steel, refusing to so much as glance at

refused to give up. He continued to follow, coaxing, "Citrine, please

a hand in a solemn

coming back from the

a frosty look, quickening her

hurried

"Sweetheart, I was wrong."

I'll

...

watching Raymond