The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Kali's words left Quentin completely stunned.

He'd always found himself quietly competing with Hastings for Kali's attention, wishing desperately for even a little more of her affection. This was supposed to be everything he had ever wanted, and yet now, he couldn't bring himself to smile.

Kali didn't seem to notice his unease. She squeezed his hand a bit tighter, her voice soft and tentative. "Quentin, let's be together."

Right now, she had nothing left-Quentin was the only person she could hold onto.

When he remained silent, Kali took it as his consent.

She slid her arms around him from behind, her hands wandering restlessly down his chest.

Quentin's eyes flew wide as he sat rigidly, his back to her.

In his memory, Kali had always been gentle, obedient-a girl who needed to be protected. But the person behind him now felt shameless, brazen, nothing like the delicate soul he thought he knew.

So which was the real Kali? Was she the vulnerable girl he'd always wanted to rescue, or was this bold, reckless woman her true self?

Quentin's heart sank. He had never liked people who were shameless or pushy, and now, to his own surprise, he felt a flicker of disgust for Kali.

He caught her hand in his and firmly moved it away from his chest, then pulled his robe tighter around himself and stood up as if escaping.

"Kali, I did like you once. But I'm not sure if I still do," he said, turning his head, unable to meet her eyes.

The rejection was so blunt, Kali's face went utterly pale. "Quentin, what are you saying?"

She'd been like a little sister to him all their lives, and Quentin's heart softened. "Kali, I... I just can't be with you."

After a pause, he added, "But don't worry. We grew up together, and as long as I'm around, I won't let anyone hurt you."

Kali pressed her lips into a thin line, her eyes dimming. She lowered her gaze for

a moment, then looked up at him again. "Is it because of Citrine?"

Over the years, Quentin had beennoveldrama

with plenty of women, but they were all fleeting Kali never saw any of them twice. Except for one: Citrine. Again and again, their messy, entanglements resurfaced. Every time Quentin mentioned her, he'd either curse her out or get so angry he couldn't speak straight. No matter how much he insisted he hated her, the truth was obvious-he was different when it came to Citrine.

Quentin's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? How could this possibly have anything to do with that spiteful brat?"

Kali's anxiety was gnawing at her, and she couldn't stop herself from pressing

further. “Quentin, have you fallen for Citrine Carmichael?"

Quentin bristled, snapping back immediately. "Of course not! How could I ever like someone so cruel? I can't stand her!"

But Kali wasn't convinced. "You keep

saying you hate her, that you want nothing to do with her, but every

time, she gets under your skin. You're not the same with her, Quentin."

He fell silent, at a loss for words. How could he possibly have feelings for that awful woman?

Quentin didn't reply, and Kali took his silence as an answer.

She watched as his expression grew darker, her own mood souring with it.

That wretched woman-this was all Citrine's fault.

First, Citrine had taken Hastings

from her. Now, even Quentin was et

slipping away. Was that woman some kind of siren in a past life, luring everyone to her?

Quentin cleared his throat awkwardly, eager to end the conversation. “Alright, I

need to get some rest. Kali, please leave."