NovelUSAChapter 422 Hastings stared coldly at Citrine, then slapped her twice, sharp and dismissive. "I'm warning you don't make Kali upset again. Next time, you won't get off this easy." Citrine was still in the dark about what had happened the night before. She looked at the two of them, bewildered. Not long ago, they'd been falling over themselves to be kind to her, calling her "sis" and treating her like family. Now, in the blink of an eye, their warmth had turned to ice.
Before she could speak, Hastings hurled a stack of photographs at her. The pictures scattered in a messy flurry across the floor. As Citrine bent to pick them up, her face drained of color.
Every photo was of her.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtShe saw herself, disheveled, skin exposed, her clothes slipping off her shoulders. In a few of the shots, a powerful, masculine arm was wrapped tightly around her chest—a man's arm, unmistakably.
Suddenly, Citrine understood what Quentin had meant by "the real deal." "How could you do this?" Her hand trembled as she gripped the photos, her face ashen.
Quentin just laughed, utterly unfazed. "That's what you get for crossing our princess Kali." Hastings' gaze was razor-sharp as he fixed it on her. "Listen to me, Citrine. Kali is our darling, our princess. You? You're just a stray with no one to care about you. You're not even fit to shine her shoes. If you make Kali unhappy again, I won't let it slide." Citrine looked at them in disbelief. "Is this all because of Kali?" "That's right," Hastings replied without hesitation.
Still lost, Citrine stammered, "But I haven't done anything to her." Quentin's temper snapped. He jabbed a finger at her face, shouting, "You nearly killed Kali, and you act like you're blameless? How can you be so heartless?" He seemed to get angrier just thinking about it. "If I wasn't a man, I'd teach you a lesson right now." To vent his frustration, he kicked the sofa hard enough to make it shudder.
Citrine stood frozen, her mind spinning.
She racked her memory for anything that might explain this. Aside from the other day, when Kali needed a blood transfusion and she'd arrived a little late-which had left Kali sulking-there hadn't been any conflict.
To think it was all over that... It was beyond ridiculous.
Her anger flared. "I gave her my blood of my own free will. That's not my duty. So I was late-how does that give you the right to treatlike this?" "I'm not her personal servant." Quentin shrugged, indifferent. "So what? Kali's special. You're nothing." Hastings, equally merciless, added darkly, "I don't care if you volunteered or not. You almost delayed Kali's transfusion. For that alone, you deserve whatever you get." He smirked, voice cold. "You're here for one reason: to give Kali blood. You'll keep doing it until there's nothing left to give. So you'd better behave." Citrine stared at the two of them in disbelief, unable to process the cruelty in their words.
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She refused to argue anymore.
Quietly, she knelt and began picking and up the scattered photos, one by one.
When she'd finished, she shot Hastings a frosty glare. "Givethe backups." He snorted. "Not a chance."
Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to look away. "I haven't done anything wronged don't owe Kali anything. Why do you treatlike this?" All she got in return was a mocking laugh.
As her thoughts settled, she noticed Hastings standing nearby, watching her intently, waiting for skind of E answer. Citrine turned, meeting his gaze with a faint, enigmatic smile. "You reap what you sow." Hastings didn't understand, but Citrine hadn't expected him to.
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