The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Herschel Saunders shot Gorman a furious glare, his jaw clenched as if he were about to launch into another tirade-until his eyes landed on Hilda and her son, standing quietly behind Gorman.

"Citrine." Herschel's anger faltered, worry flickering across his face.

He rounded on Gorman, voice booming with outrage. "If you won't let her leave, then don't bother showing up at my birthday dinner. Take that woman and get out -both of you!"

Without waiting for a response, Herschel strode over to his beloved granddaughter and promised in a tone brimming with grandfatherly pride, "Don't worry, Citrine. Today's my birthday, and I won't let anyone ruin it for you."

He shot a withering look at both Gorman and Jeanette Iverson, then turned back to Citrine, his features instantly softening. The anger melted away, replaced by a tenderness rarely seen in the old man.

"I've told that fool to take his poisonous companion and leave. I won't let them upset you, sweetheart."

Gorman had always been the golden child-the model son who excelled at everything, from school to work. The Saunders family had never once uttered a harsh word against him.

But today, Herschel had crossed a line and raised his hand to him.

Gorman's face was ashen with humiliation and disbelief. He whirled back to Herschel, his voice cracking. "Granddad, we looked for my sister for years! There's no way this Citrine Carmichael could actually be—"

He broke off mid-sentence, his gaze catching on a pair of cool, clear eyes.

They'd met not long ago, though at the time she'd been masked, recovering from a cold. But those eyes-Gorman remembered them vividly, always carrying a hint of distance, a chill that kept people at arm's length.

He stared at Citrine, eyes widening in shock. "You... you're Citrine Carmichael?"

Gorman couldn't tear his gaze away. The resemblance was uncanny-her features were nearly a mirror image of their aunt's when she was young.

Citrine's eyes flickered with disappointment as she met his stare. She shouldn't have let herself hope for more from her oldest brother.

She regarded him with calm indifference, offering no reply.

Gorman's focus narrowed to Citrine, his composure slipping. "Are you really...

Citrine?" His voice trembled with emotion.

Citrine held his gaze, silent and unmoved.noveldrama

Worried that Gorman might upset his granddaughter, Herschel grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back. "You idiot. The DNA test doesn't lie. If you scare your sister, I swear I'll break your legs." His warning was sharp, brooking no argument.

Truthfully, the moment Gorman saw Citrine's face, all doubt had vanished. But excitement and disbelief-made him reckless.

He edged closer, voice bubbling with relief. "Citrine, I'm your big brother! When you were little, you always loved me best. Anyone else tried to hold you and you'd cry, but when I picked you up, you always smiled—”

Gorman launched into a stream of childhood memories, his words tumbling out in a rush.

Citrine frowned, cutting him off coldly. "I don't remember any of that. I was too young to have memories then."

Her tone was icy, her eyes unreadable.

Her indifference hit Gorman like a bucket of ice water. He'd never imagined that after all these years, his long-lost sister would look at him with such contempt.

“Citrine—” He started to protest, but then hesitated, remembering his own actions: severing the family company's ties with hers, the cruel words he'd spoken in Jeanette's defense, even halting overseas contracts with Citrine's business.

Guilt settled in, heavy and inescapable.