The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 177

It seemed Holbrook had been poisoned for quite some time; by now, the toxins had seeped deep into his organs. The only option left was to use traditional medicine—acupuncture.

Citrine pulled out her set of needles from her bag and laid them out on the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, she took one and pressed it into Holbrook's scalp, swiftly following with a second, and then a third...

As Citrine continued, the scene grew increasingly surreal—soon, Holbrook looked as if he'd been turned into a human pincushion. The members of the Iverson family watched in horror, unable to stifle their collective gasp.

"Dad, are you really going to let her do this?" Clifford muttered through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at Citrine. "What if she makes things worse for Grandpa? Who's going to take responsibility then?"

Still smarting from the slap he'd received earlier, Clifford's jaw was set tight, his voice trembling with frustration. "Think about it—she's never shown any interest in medicine. If she knew anything about this, we'd have heard about it by now!"

Sawyer's expression darkened as Clifford finished. He hesitated, uncertain, when Aline chimed in, "He's right, Sawyer. Citrine is still just a college student. What if she makes a mistake? Who's going to answer for it if something happens to your father?"

Aline's eyes flashed with calculation, but her tone was gentle—anyone looking on would think she was the perfect daughter-in-law, only concerned for her father-in-law's well-being. "Citrine, if you really care about your grandfather, why not just give me the recipe for the herbal medicine you brewed for him before? Let me take care of it."

She watched Citrine expectantly, the picture of patience and concern.

Citrine couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Aline was exactly the same as she'd been in her previous life—always scheming, always calculating, always thinking several steps ahead.

But Holbrook's problem wasn't a relapse of his old illness. He'd been poisoned—badly. The toxins had already reached his vital organs. Even if she managed to pull him back from the brink, he wouldn't have long to live.

The so-called "remedy" was useless.

If she handed it over to Aline and Holbrook died anyway, wouldn't all the blame fall on her? Did they really think she was that naïve?

Citrine stayed silent, unmoved. Aline pressed on, "Well? What do you say?"

"Not a chance." Citrine replied flatly, her voice laced with sarcasm. It was almost comical how desperate Aline was to get her hands on that recipe—as if Citrine didn't see right through her.