The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 51

Backstage at the banquet.

The hotel manager glared furiously at Sebastian Vesper. "You've really got some nerve, you know that? You'd even dare cross the prince of the city's elite?"

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused me?"

Sebastian kept his head low, blood trickling steadily from his wounds, but he acted as if he didn't feel a thing. Bent at the waist, he apologized over and over. "I'm sorry, sir. I really am."

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I promise it won't happen again."

He hadn't made a sound when he was nearly beaten to death, but right now, he stood there—head bowed, swallowing his pride.

"Again? You think there'll be a next time?" The manager let out a cold laugh.

"Take your pay and get out." He transferred today's wages with a flick of his phone.

Knowing there was no point in pleading, Sebastian said nothing more.

He changed out of his uniform, limped out the hotel's back door, and disappeared into the night.

By then, darkness had swallowed the last traces of moonlight. Sebastian didn't bother going to the hospital. He took his battered body straight to his cramped apartment.

It was only after collapsing onto his narrow bed that he remembered the girl from tonight.

Her face was breathtaking—so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. Even Sebastian, who prided himself on keeping his cool, had nearly lost his composure the moment he saw her.

Years later, he would still remember that night.

She stood above him, regal as a princess, looking down at him with an air of untouchable grace. In that moment, his own sense of inferiority felt painfully exposed.

Sebastian knew it was her who called the police.

She was the one who saved him.

If it hadn't been for her, he wouldn't have walked out of that hotel on his own two feet. They'd have carried him out on a stretcher.

Each line was clear as day, nothing left out.

People were stunned. Fourteen years of financial records, and the total amount Aline had sent her didn't even reach five thousand dollars. In other words, over fourteen years, the Iverson family had spent less than five grand supporting their adopted daughter.

But the real shocker was in the breakdown of her living expenses. Citrine's records detailed every time she'd bought groceries or meals for herself, and the total added up to over eight thousand dollars.

Most telling of all, the records made it clear that for more than two hundred days a year, Citrine had to fend for herself when it came to food.

So after more than a decade, she'd received less than five thousand from the Iversons, but had personally spent over eight thousand just to get by. In reality, she'd hardly cost the family anything at all.

For a wealthy family to spend so little on their adopted daughter over fourteen years—it was unthinkable.

No one could've imagined that a family this rich could be so stingy.

The second post was a video, accompanied by an unedited, timestamped screenshot as proof.

It was the same clip that had once circulated online—Citrine pushing Jeanette. But this time, the video was complete, uncut, showing the whole story from start to finish, in a way the version on the school forum never had.