The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 4

After leaving, Citrine dragged her suitcase straight to The Carmichael Group.

In her previous life, she'd only learned by accident—from Aline's slip of the tongue—that her biological father was Raymond Carmichael. But by then, she'd lost all hope for family ties and had never even considered seeking him out.

But now, she was still underage. She needed a legal guardian.

Security at The Carmichael Group was notoriously tight. Without an appointment, there was no way inside. Citrine knew this all too well, so she simply settled herself outside the entrance to wait.

Dusk deepened, and the city lights flickered on.

At first, the security guards on shift tried to shoo her away. But after noticing the quiet, stubborn way she just sat there, they eventually gave up.

Citrine stared blankly at the steady stream of people coming and going, lost in thought.

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream shattered the night, followed by a heavy thud that snapped Citrine out of her daze.

"Mr. Carmichael, please, I'm sorry! Have mercy, I was forced into this. If I didn't hand over the project files, they said they'd kill my son!"

A middle-aged man was sprawled on the floor, groveling and bowing so desperately that blood from his forehead stained the marble tiles.

"Mr. Easton, what are you talking about? When have I ever made things difficult for you?" The man in front of him—Raymond Carmichael—let a cold, faint smile play at the edges of his lips, never reaching his eyes.

"Mr. Carmichael, I'm begging you. I know I was wrong. I'll do anything to make it up—even die, if that's what it takes. Just… please, spare my family," Easton pleaded, still on his knees.

But Raymond's heart was ice.

"Then go and die," he said flatly.

Raymond stared down at Easton like he was nothing but an insect. "You should have thought about the consequences before you betrayed me."

Easton's heart froze; despair overwhelmed him, and he lashed out in desperation. "Raymond, you're a monster! You'll get what's coming to you. Someday, your own children will suffer in hell because of you."

"I won't have children," Raymond replied without a hint of emotion, waving a hand dismissively. "Enough noise. Get him out of here."

At his command, the bodyguards hauled Easton away.

Citrine couldn't help but shiver.

She'd seen that chiseled, handsome face before—more than once, splashed across financial news magazines. Raymond Carmichael was more striking than any actor she'd ever seen, even at thirty-seven, without a single mark of age marring his features.

She locked her gaze on his tall, imposing figure. Steeling herself, Citrine picked up her suitcase and hurried after him.

"Raymond," she called out softly, her young voice still holding a trace of innocence.

She wore simple clothes, but her face was startlingly beautiful. Raymond had seen his fair share of pretty girls, but the sight of this one still caught him off guard—her beauty was unforgettable.

But no matter how lovely, he still couldn't stand kids.