The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

“Ms. Carmichael, how about a performance? It is Elbert's birthday, after all. Even if you didn't bring a proper gift, surely you won't begrudge us a song."

"Yes, Ms. Carmichael, you're a Carmichael, after all. Don't tell us you can't even play the piano?"

"Don't worry-even if you're not as talented as Miss Regina, we won't laugh at you. There aren't many prodigies like her, you know."noveldrama

A number of guests began to chime in, some simply eager for drama, others— wealthy young men with less-than-honorable intentions-openly eyeing Citrine with bold, hungry gazes.

At that moment, Elbert finally spoke up.

“Ms. Carmichael, it's my birthday today. Since everyone wants to see you perform, do me the honor and play a piece, won't you?"

Elbert didn't actually believe Citrine had any real talent; he just wanted to see her make a spectacle of herself.

Citrine could see right through him. Without hesitation, she declined. “Elbert, I'm really not very good. I'd rather not embarrass myself."

She glanced at the piano, lips pressed together, her face pale and her expression difficult to read.

No sooner had she finished speaking than the murmurs around the room grew louder.

"What a petty woman. It's just a piano piece-what's the big deal? It's Elbert's birthday."

"So unrefined. Doesn't even have the manners to entertain the host."

"Compared to her, Miss Regina is so much more gracious."

Hearing this chorus of criticism directed at his granddaughter, Weston could barely contain himself. His face darkened, and he slammed his hand onto the table.

"I'd like to see anyone dare say another word about my granddaughter! Tired of living, are you, picking a fight with the Carmichael family?" He almost never threw his family's weight around, but today he'd been pushed too far.

He'd wanted to lash out all evening, and if Citrine hadn't been begging him to keep his cool, Weston would have flipped the table and stormed out long ago.

At his outburst, the room fell instantly silent.

The Carmichaels were the top family in Havencrest-Weston's reaction left no doubt about how much he doted on his granddaughter.

No one dared say another word, nor even risk underestimating Citrine, the Carmichael heiress.

Seeing Weston's anger, Elbert's brow twitched. He reached out, trying to calm the old man. "Come on, Weston, we just wanted Ms. Carmichael to play something. Isn't this a bit much?"

Weston shook him off and shot back coldly, "A bit much? Did you even hear the garbage they were spouting?"

Right then, Citrine arched a brow, her tone dripping with arrogance. "Not just anyone gets to hear me play. If you want a performance, Elbert, you'll have to pay up."

The guests all stared at her in shock, inwardly mocking her for being money- obsessed-demanding payment for a song at a birthday party! But no one dared say a word aloud.

Elbert's expression darkened considerably.

Unbelievable. He'd only asked her to play a song, and the girl wanted him to pay for it.

He'd never encountered such a thorny kid before. Turning to Weston, Elbert's voice was edged with anger. "Weston, don't you think your granddaughter's a bit full of herself?"

"What is she, some famous concert pianist? Asking me to pay for a song!" Elbert had never been so publicly slighted; his face was thunderous.

Weston's eye twitched, and he nearly spat out his tea.