Seeing how confident Citrine looked, Salome opened her mouth as if to say something, but ultimately held her tongue.
Regina's eyes gleamed with challenge. "If this bag is genuine, I'll give you my entire allowance for the year. But what if it's a fake?"
Citrine smiled sweetly, waiting for her to continue. "Well, what do you suggest?"
Regina glanced sidelong at Weston, gauging his reaction. When she saw that his expression hadn't changed, she pressed on. "If it turns out to be a fake, then you have to leave the Carmichael family for good."
Her ambition was laid bare for everyone to see—Regina wasn't hiding it anymore.
Weston never minded a little rivalry within the family. In fact, the old man had always admired a fighting spirit in his younger days, and he preferred his grandchildren to be ambitious—as long as they were talented enough to bring honor to the family name.
He'd brought Regina to countless high-society events; every single time, she'd outshine the other debutantes and steal the spotlight. It was this boldness and poise that made Weston favor her even more.
Today, Regina was using that favoritism to push her luck.
"Regina, that's enough! Who do you think you are, telling someone to get out?" Raymond's face darkened, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel.
She swallowed hard, but forced herself to reply, "Uncle Raymond, it was Citrine who challenged me first."
Her body trembled; her heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear herself think. She didn't even dare look at Raymond's face.
But this was her one shot—she wasn't going to throw it away.
The whole Carmichael family had cornered her into this.
Weston had almost decided to have Raymond adopt her; she'd been this close to becoming Raymond's daughter, and after that, the whole Carmichael estate would have been hers. But then, out of nowhere, Citrine came back.
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