The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 229

Five percent of the shares? What, does he think I’m a beggar?

Making Vitaflux is an excruciatingly complex process. Every ingredient has to be measured with surgical precision—down to six decimal points—and each pill costs her a tremendous amount of energy and focus.

In recent years, The Jensen Group has lost much of its former glory. Five percent of its shares aren’t even worth more than five hundred million dollars at this point.

And yet, here was the mighty head of The Jensen Group, haggling away with a metaphorical meat cleaver, slashing prices like he was at a cutthroat garage sale. Citrine had never seen this kind of penny-pinching alpha male before.

What made it almost funny was that, in Phelps’s mind, his own father’s life apparently wasn’t worth more than five percent of the company.

With someone so stingy, Citrine started to wonder if he was really serious about saving Elbert at all.

She let out a soft laugh, her refusal crisp and certain. “Mr. Jensen, even if you gave me ten percent of the shares, I still wouldn’t be able to help you.”

Phelps’s gentle smile faltered for a split second; he almost couldn’t keep it together. Pressing his lips together, he tried again. “Ms. Carmichael, I know my father’s attitude toward you was out of line that day. I apologize on his behalf, and I hope you won’t hold it against him.”

Citrine used the same line she’d given Truman and his sister. “Mr. Jensen, I’m the kind of person who holds a grudge.”

Phelps hadn’t expected a teenager to be this hard to sway. Running out of options, he played the friendship card. “Ms. Carmichael, could you do me this favor for the sake of all the years Uncle Manley and I have been friends?”

At the mention of Manley, Citrine’s smile faded and her brow twitched. “Mr. Jensen, the only reason I agreed to meet with you today is out of respect for Uncle Manley. But this is something I simply can’t do. I’m sure Uncle Manley would understand—and support—whatever decision I make.”

Guilt trips weren’t going to work on her.

“You trust me that much, Citrine? Aren’t you afraid I might hurt you?” Manley was surprised. Her unwavering answer softened something long frozen inside him.

“Uncle Manley would never do that,” Citrine replied with a calm, steady smile.

She trusted Manley—maybe because he’d once helped her when she was overseas.

Back then, Citrine had just escaped Mirage Cay. She saw the worst in everyone, refusing to trust a soul. With Mirage Cay’s influence looming over her, she didn’t dare reveal her extraordinary gifts or what she could do.

She tried to survive by picking up manual labor, but doors kept slamming in her face. When she’d first fled Mirage Cay, she was so thin she barely looked human. Employers either took one look at her and decided she wasn’t strong enough, or figured she wouldn’t live long and would only bring bad luck to their business.