NovelGoldChapter 9 Clifford had spotted Citrine a while ago. Normally, she'd have rushed over, eager to please him; but today, she didn't even spare him a glance.
"Well, look who's grown a backbone," Clifford scoffed under his breath.
He couldn't stop thinking about how, just yesterday, she'd dared to kick him and call him worthless. His face darkened, his mood shifting from irritation to outright anger.
"Oh, Clifford, isn't that your little lapdog over there?" Laird followed Clifford's gaze, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "She's got snerve now. How cshe isn't glued to your side today?" Gideon cast a fleeting, indifferent glance at Citrine before turning to Jeanette, serving her food with obvious affection.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtGideon and Laird were Clifford's closest friends-they were thick as thieves, practically inseparable. They treated Jeanette, Clifford's younger sister, as if she were a precious gem.
Thinking back to yesterday's humiliation, Clifford simmered with resentment. Hearing his friends mock Citrine, he didn't bother to stop them; in fact, he took a bit of twisted pleasure in it.
Maybe it was tCitrine learned her lesson.
He let out a cold huff. "She deserves to be ignored for a few days. Let her stew in it; she'll ccrawling back, begging for forgiveness." Jeanette glanced at her brother, noting his obvious displeasure, and a sly smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Clifford, I'm sure Citrine is just upset with me. Letgo apologize to her," Jeanette said sweetly. Gideon reached over and gently patted Jeanette's head, his tone warm and doting. "You did nothing wrong, Jeanette. She's the one who crossed the line. You're just too kind-hearted, that's all." Laird chimed in, "Exactly. Why should you, the real deal, have to apologize to someone like her?" Clifford gave his sister an approving look, ruffling her hair affectionately, his dislike for Citrine only growing. "There's no reason for you to apologize. She's the one at fault if anyone's apologizing, it should be her, and to you." He paused, then added, "Don't worry, Jeanette. Give it a few days-Citrine will caround. I'll make sure she apologizes to you." "It's alright, Clifford. As long as she comes home, I'll be happy," Jeanette replied, her eyes wide and innocent. Clifford's heart softened at his thoughtful sister, and his exasperation with Citrine only deepened.
But Laird wasn't done. A flicker of malice crossed his face.
He stood up and strode over to Citrine, looking down at her with a smug authority. "Citrine, Jeanette's thirsty. Go get her a coffee." "Don't you think you're going too far?" Amelia shot to her feet, her expression icy. She'd never liked how Clifford and his friends ordered Citrine around.
Laird jabbed a finger at Amelia's forehead and sneered, "And who asked for your opinion? Know your place." Suddenly, Citrine set down her fork and, without hesitation, slapped Laird hard across the face.
It was swift-almost too fast to see.
"If you have something to say, say it. Keep your hands to yourself," she snapped, quietly stepping in front of Amelia, shielding her from Laird's glare.
Laird clutched his cheek, stunned into silence for a long moment. When he finally found his voice, it was hoarse with rage. "You crazy bitch. How dare you hit me?" Everyone at the table stared, wide-eyed with shock.
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Citrine had always been obedient to Clifford and his friends, going along with whatever, they wanted, never talking back or resisting. She might have disliked Jeanette, but she'd never stood up to the rest of them. Now, the once-docile girl had grown a spine-and claws.
"So what if I hit you?" Citrine scanned the group, her gaze full of disdain.
She looked them up and down, then let out a cold laugh. "What's them matter? Are your hands broken, or ΕΠ are your legs not working?"
"You're just Clifford's obedient mutt. What are you acting so high and mighty for?" Citrine's words were like aldagger, aimed straight at Laird's pride. Laird's face twisted with fury; there was nothing he hated more than being called Clifford's lapdog.
He glared at her, murderous intent in his eyes. "Watch your mouth, Citrine." Then, shooting Clifford a look, he added with a sneer, "She won't listen to me, but she'll listen to you, right, Clifford?" Still brooding over yesterday, Clifford snapped, "Go get the coffee. If Jeanette doesn't get her drink today, you'll regret it."
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