NovelUSAChapter 423 Back home, Citrine uncorked a bottle of red wine. Settling onto the sofa with her cat curled up on her lap, she absentmindedly stroked its fur with one hand and sipped her wine with the other, her thoughts gradually growing hazy.
In her previous life, after their first bitter falling out, the hostility from Hastings and Quentin had only intensified with each passing day.
They made it their mission to humiliate her-pulling childish pranks, setting her up to embarrass herself, hurling insults at every opportunity. It beca relentless campaign of ridicule.
The moment that seared itself most deeply in her memory happened at Theo's birthday party. That day, in front of everyone, Hastings jabbed a finger in her face and spat out: "You're nothing but Theo's pathetic lapdog, always at his beck and call. Living off his charity like sworthless parasite, and you actually think you matter? I can't stand women like you-no self-respect, all vanity and cheapness." For sreason, of all the things from her past life, Hastings' words remained crystal clear in her mind.
So much so, that the first tshe saw Hastings in this life, she found herself scheming.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtIf Hastings despised women without dignity, why not let him experience it himself? Let him becthe lapdog, the one stripped of pride, the very thing he loathed most.
Citrine couldn't help but think-it would be deliciously entertaining.
Ever since Theo learned about Citrine's blood type, he'd been quietly plotting.
With someone like her as a backup blood donor, his sister's safety would be nearly guaranteed.
After sthought, Theo decided to bring the matter to his father. He knew that if his father acted, the issue would be settled.
Theo's father, Talbot Glenwood, was the head of Crestwood's most powerful family-a man whose influence stretched over the entire city. More importantly, he controlled an enormous underground network, which had made him fabulously wealthy over the years.
This network had also allowed him to bring other elite families-the Coopers, the Aldridges, and several others- under his sway, sometimes even making them bow to his will.
As soon as he heard about the situation, Talbot moved quickly, reaching out to Citrine to negotiate.
"One billion dollars. Be my daughter's designated blood donor." Talbot thought he was being exceedingly generous, but Citrine didn't hesitate to refuse. "Not a chance." Talbot was used to getting his way, used to looking down from his throne. No one, especially not someone of the younger generation, had ever dared turn him down so bluntly. He left with a face like thunder.
Citrine had expected trouble from refusing the old bastard, and tried to be as cautious as possible, but there was only so much she could do. The next few days were a series of near-misses.
First, a car inexplicably swerved at her on the street. Then someone followed her, trying to corner her. After that, a stranger tried to jab her with a needle. Luckily, Citrine managed to deal with each incident, never letting them succeed.
But she knew she couldn't keep dodging threats forever. There was only one real solution: reveal her true identity.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmIf she becthe chairwoman of CICI Group, even Talbot would be forced to think twice before acting. Businessmen like him didn't make reckless moves unless they were sure they could destroy their opponent in one blow, and Talbot knew the Glenwood Group could never easily crush CICI.
Citrine hesitated, but finally decided she'd announce her identity in a few days. At that moment, in a private lounge at an exclusive club- Monica was mingling with Crestwood's socialites and trust fund heirs, clinking glasses and exchanging favors.
Suddenly, one of the young men piped up, "Did you guys hear? The Holyshear? Glenwood family finally found a perfect, living blood match for their sickly daughter."
Everyone knew about Kali's frail health; the news wasn't exactly an shock, though a few people raised their eyebrows in mild surprise. "Mr. Lynn, how'd you find out?" someone asked, curiosity piqued.
Mr. Lynn grinned. "My dad was drinking with Talbot last night. He let it slip." He puffed up with pride. "And that's not all I know exactly who the unlucky donor is." "Who?" someone pressed.
Mr. Lynn leaned in, clearly enjoying the attention. "Rumor is, it's the.
eldest daughter of the Carmichael o family-the ones who just moved to Crestwood. Raymond's kid. I think her nis Ci..."
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