NovelGoldChapter 7 Citrine observed her surroundings in silence, careful not to let her expression betray a single thought.
Raymond's villa was a study in gray and white-minimalist, elegant, and yet, unmistakably opulent. Every piece of furniture and décor looked like it belonged in a museum rather than a home, and the few scattered objects on the table were arranged so deliberately that it was hard to imagine anyone actually lived here.
"Pick any room you like upstairs," Raymond said, gesturing vaguely toward the staircase. "If you need anything, ask Butler Ismael or Adler." It was clear he had no intention of getting personally involved in raising a child. "Thank you," Citrine replied quietly, polite and reserved as she trailed behind him.
She knew better than to expect any father-daughter closeness between them. That just wasn't in the cards. But she didn't resent Raymond. In truth, she was simply using him as a way out of the Iverson family, nothing more.
After a few brief instructions, Raymond left with Adler in tow.
The DNA test had confirmed it-she was his biological daughter. But that didn't mean there weren't other forces at play behind her sudden appearance.
As he considered this, a cold, calculating glint flickered across Raymond's face. "Adler, look into that girl," he ordered.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAdler's stomach tightened. He hesitated, then ventured, "Sir, she's your own daughter. Aren't you being a little... too cautious?" Maybe even too harsh. After all, she was just a teenage girl-innocent at that age.
"Are you questioning my judgment?" Raymond shot him a razor-sharp look, pure warning in his eyes.
Adler nearly forgot to breathe. "Of course not, sir." He didn't dare argue further.
He regretted speaking up the moment the words left his mouth. No one ever questioned the boss's decisions-let alone changed them.
He really must have lost his mind.
"Get out," Raymond said, his voice growing even colder as he looked away.
Adler wiped the sweat from his brow and hurried out of the office as fast as he could.
*** Grandeur Waters Residences.
Citrine had no idea a storm was brewing elsewhere because of her.
The Carmichael household was usually quiet, but Butler Ismael was genuinely pleased that his employer had finally brought hhis own daughter. And with good reason—the girl was so endearing that Ismael's heart nearly melted on the spot.
"If you need anything, Miss, please don't hesitate to cto me," he said warmly. Citrine sensed his kindness and nodded politely.
She asked offhandedly, "Do you know when Raymond-um, when my father usually comes home?" Ismael hesitated. The truth was, Raymond's comings and goings were unpredictable; it wasn't unusual for him to be away for months at a time. After a moment's thought, he replied, "It's hard to say, Miss. The master only comes ha few times a month-his work keeps him very busy, and most nights he sleeps at the office." Seeing the look on her face, he added quickly, "But if you ever miss him, you can always call. Here's his private number." He recited the number for her.
Citrine didn't really want it, but seeing Ismael's genuine concern, she didn't refuse.
Back in her room, Citrine lay on the bed, staring at the number for a good ten minutes before finally deciding not to save it in her phone.
*** Elsewhere, Raymond sat in his office, brow furrowed.
"You're saying that after seeing your daughter, your heart symptoms have gotten worse?" Calvin, his private physician, looked more serious than ever. He'd never encountered anything quite like this before. All previous tests had shown that Raymond's heart was in perfect condition.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmRaymond hated this loss of control.
"Yes," he confirmed. "Whenever I see her upset, the sensation in my chest gets worse." Calvin's tone was grave. "Raymond, your condition might be connected to your daughter." "But I only found out about her today," Raymond said, baffled.
Calvin sighed, offering his professional advice. "Raymond, I really think you should see a therapist." Raymond didn't answer.
*** Night fell.
Citrine had just put on a face mask and was about to fall asleep when her phone buzzed with a new E message. [Photo] [Mr. Adler: Miss, please pick whichever high school you'd like—we'll arrange your enrollment.]
Citrine opened the photo. It was a list of top schools in Havencrest, a mix of prestigious/public and private academies. She glanced at it for only a moment before closing her phone.
[CICI: Thank you, Mr. Adler, but that won't be necessary.] She had no intention of transferring.
After all, she was already attending om Havencrest Preparatory Academy-the best school in the city, and more importantly, the only one that truly valued academic achievement over everything else.
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