The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Soon after, Citrine was led into an office.

The island's boss glanced at her coldly and warned, "If you can't prove your worth, I promise you'll die a miserable death."

Citrine nodded, forcing herself to swallow her fear. "Don't worry. I can prove it," she said, and took a seat in front of the computer.

She spent the entire day glued to the screen, barely daring to take a breath, let alone a break.

It wasn't until midday the following day that she finally finished the game she'd been tasked to create.

Raymond had been watching her every move, his eyes never leaving the monitor. He waited until she was done.

When the final test run passed and the game loaded perfectly, disbelief swept over Raymond's face.

But it wasn't just Citrine's age or her talent that shocked him. It was the name credited as the game's creator: not Citrine, but someone else entirely.

He recognized the game immediately-it was the very same one Citrine had played in Raymond's own office before. The one called *Ultimate Showdown*.

Since its release back home, *Ultimate Showdown* had become a sensation, dominating headlines and causing a national stir. It stood out as the only homegrown game of its kind-one that matched, even surpassed, anything produced by the industry giant, Magnolia. For months, it had trended on social media, a point of pride for the country.

People everywhere were thrilled, proud that their nation had produced such talent, proving they could outshine even the likes of Magnolia.

Yet the game's developer was officially listed as the Glenwood Group, a major Crestwood tech company, and the credited creator was a Glenwood employee.

How could this be? The game was clearly Citrine's work. So how had it become a Glenwood Group product?

Had someone on Mirage Cay sold the game to the Glenwood family? Or was there something else at play?

The island boss was beside himself with excitement when he saw what Citrine had accomplished. As expected, he lost all other interest in her at least for now.

Citrine's life was spared, for the moment.

Raymond had assumed this would be the end of her ordeal. But instead, they started forcing her to churn out more and more games for them, pushing her relentlessly.

With her life on the line, Citrine had no choice but to comply.

Day after day, she was locked in a pitch-dark computer room, allowed to eat only after she'd completed whatever project they'd assigned her.

It wasn't long before her health began to deteriorate. Her stomach grew weaker from the stress and neglect, and sometimes she'd be in the middle of coding when a sudden wave of pain would send her collapsing to the floor, writhing in agony. Even then, no one bothered to fetch her a doctor.

After a while, her captors realized that Citrine's skills went far beyond game development, and their ambitions grew darker.

They began ordering her to hack into rival companies to steal sensitive data, or to break into bank systems and siphon off money. But Citrine flatly refused.noveldrama

"You dare defy me? Are you tired of living?" The island boss snarled, pressing a gun to her head when she wouldn't comply.

"You really think I won't kill you?" he growled, punctuating the threat with a vicious kick that sent Citrine sprawling.

"Go ahead, then. Do it." Clutching her stomach, Citrine looked up at the gun trembling in his hand. Her whole body shook, but her voice was unwavering.

Making games and software for these people was just a means to survive. But stealing company secrets or hacking banks? Those were crimes-ones that could ruin lives, destroy families, or worse.

Even at her age, Citrine drew the line there.

But her defiance only made the boss angrier.

From that day on, every day brought new torments-cruel beatings, threats, and

the promise that unless she gave in, he'd beat her to death.