The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 6 There was a heavy silence, stretching on for what felt like forever.

Suddenly, an idea flickered in her eyes, steely and resolute. "You might not believe me," she said, "but the Carmichael family might." "You're threatening me?" Raymond let out a short, incredulous laugh.

In all his thirty-syears, no one had ever dared to threaten him-least of all a scrawny slip of a girl.

But Raymond knew his father, Weston Carmichael, valued profit above all. The elder Carmichael was obsessed with the medical robotics project, and whether or not there was a blood tie, just that project alone would make the old man keep this girl around.

She'd clearly done her homework on the Carmichael family before coming here. Raymond studied the child before him, his gaze darkening. Clever kid.

Adler, standing nearby, barely dared to breathe. He'd never seen anyone so reckless as to threaten President Carmichael-especially not a child.

He could only hope his boss would show her smercy.

"So what if I am threatening you?" Citrine didn't bother to deny it. She knew she wasn't above using whatever means she had.

Her childhood had taught her: you only survived if you fought with everything you had.

Those clear eyes locked onto him, and a sharp, unbidden pain twisted in Raymond's chest. The feeling-so out of his control-irritated him.

His chest had been hurting a lot lately. He'd even gone to the hospital several times, but the doctors could never find anything wrong.

He grew impatient. "Do you have any idea what happens to people who cross me?" "If you want to live, get lost. Now." He wasn't about to stoop to a fight with a child.

Outside, rain had started to fall at spoint. Standing alone in the downpour, Citrine stared at the well-dressed man under his umbrella, suddenly all too aware of her own wretchedness.

She understood perfectly well-she had nothing. If Raymond wanted her dead, she wouldn't make it out alive. Her life was as insignificant as an ant's.

"Raymond! It's against the law to abandon your child!" she shouted at him, her voice trembling with anger. Realizing Raymond would never take her home, Citrine turned and strode into the pouring rain, her shoulders squared with stubborn resolve.

After a day full of accusations and now this final rejection, all her strength seemed to drain away.

As her thin figure disappeared into the downpour, Raymond's chest seized with pain worse than ever before. The desperate eyes of the girl in his dreams blurred together with the stubborn stare of the girl who'd just walked away.

Adler glanced after her, unable to hide his sympathy. "Sir... are you really just going to let her go?" Raymond winced, fighting the pain, and frowned. "What else am I supposed to do?" Adler couldn't help but mutter, "It's late, she could get into trouble out there..." Raymond hesitated, then waved a hand, his voice oddly strained. "Fine. Go after her." Citrine wandered into a 24-hour convenience store after leaving. She sat there, watching the ebb and flow of strangers outside, lost in thought.

A voice beside her snapped her back to reality.

"Miss, President Carmichael would like to see you." Citrine's memory was sharp-she recognized the man as Raymond's assistant.

So, he was taking her back? Was Raymond actually afraid of going to jail? She followed Adler to the sleek black limousine waiting outside.

Raymond sat beside her, rubbing his forehead, looking pale and drawn. Citrine glanced at him, then quickly looked away.

Sensing her gaze, Raymond turned to look at her.

But the first thing he noticed wasn't the stubborn set of her jaw; it was the discreet black hearing aid in her ear.

His expression darkened and a stabbing pain shot through his chest. Before he could think, he blurted out, "Your ear-?" "Can't hear anymore," Citrine replied, her voice flat as she shrugged. Whether she truly didn't care, only she knew.

Raymond pressed his lips together, choosing not to say anything else.

The car was eerily quiet for a long while, until Citrine broke the silence. "I'm not lying. We can do a DNA test." "Fine." This time, Raymond didn't refuse.

They agreed, and went straight to a hospital owned by the Carmichael Group for the paternity test.

Two hours later, the results were in: they were, without a doubt, father and daughter.

Raymond stared at the report, stunned, suddenly at a loss for words.

The Carmichael Group's labs never made mistakes.

He'd considered every possibility-except this one: that she was actually his biological daughter.

"You have my word," he said finally, all business but much gentler than before. Since you're my daughter, I'll n: take responsibility for you."

Citrine met his gaze, her eyes unreadable. "Don't worry. I won't be O any trouble." She was naive N enough to think that being acknowledged as his child meant he'd care for her. No one in this world would ever love her.

After the test, Citrine accompanied Raymond back to Grandeur Waters Estates.

This was the most prestigious neighborhood in Havencrest, hto the city's wealthiest and most influential.

The Iversons' address might have been impressive, but it couldn't compare to Grandeur Waters. Money alone wasn't enough to live there-you needed status, connections, and power.