The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 702

Quentin had never expected Citrine to actually strike him. The sudden blow caught him completely off guard; pain shot through his arm, and he clutched it for a long moment, trying to recover.

By the time he looked up again, Citrine had already vanished.

A few days later, the staff at Citrine’s detective agency reported that Jeanette and Theo had had a falling out, and now Jeanette had been booted from the Aldridge family home at Quentin’s command.

After being thrown out, Jeanette tried desperately to reach Aline, calling again and again, but days passed with no luck, and the money in her pockets was running dangerously low.

When Citrine heard the news, she sat in her office, the corners of her lips curving into a faint, satisfied smile.

“Jeanette, from here on out, your life is about to become a living hell.”

She put on some music—something upbeat—and popped open a bottle of red wine to celebrate.

A few minutes later, Carlotta knocked and entered the office.

Her tone was respectful. “Ms. Winters, is there anything you need?”

Citrine set her wineglass down and fixed Carlotta with a serious gaze before answering.

“I want Jeanette sold to Crestwood’s most notorious pleasure den.”

Carlotta’s face paled slightly at the words.

Crestwood’s most infamous den of vice was the Neon Hive.

Every night, wealthy patrons flocked there under the guise of ‘business’ to indulge themselves, treating the people inside as little more than playthings.

Looking at Citrine now, Carlotta felt a sudden chill run down her spine.

Having worked by Citrine’s side for so long, she knew as well as anyone that Citrine’s ruthlessness matched her uncanny business acumen—if not surpassed it. She was more formidable than most of Crestwood’s corporate titans.

In that instant, Carlotta realized she was afraid. Afraid that one day, she might wind up on the receiving end of Citrine’s wrath.

She knew this was just vengeance. Citrine was making sure the wicked paid for what they’d done. Yet for a moment, Carlotta had feared that wrath would turn on her.

How could she have doubted Citrine?

“I’m sorry, Citrine,” Carlotta said, guilt written all over her face.

Citrine just smiled. “You have nothing to apologize for, Carlotta.” There was a hint of mischief in her eyes—she knew she could be ruthless.

At that moment, Carlotta thought the woman before her was the kindest soul in the world.

All Citrine wanted was for the wicked to be punished. How could that be wrong?

If there was any blame to be had, it was on those who had hurt her. Citrine, with all her goodness, had done nothing wrong.