The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 230

Citrine was penniless and on the verge of starving to death.

By dawn the next day, her hunger was so overwhelming her stomach felt hollow, and she simply couldn’t bear it any longer. Waiting until the bakery owner was busy with other customers, she slipped a warm roll from the steaming tray when no one was looking.

She acted quickly, but not quickly enough. The heavyset baker spotted her in an instant.

With a furious shout, he snatched up his rolling pin and lumbered after her. Citrine was so weak from hunger, she barely made it a few yards before he caught her by the collar.

The baker’s face was red with rage as he shook her roughly. “You little thief! Stealing from me, huh? I ought to teach you a lesson.”

“Filthy beggar, you think you can steal my bread and get away with it? I’ll make you regret it!”

His fists were as hard as iron, slamming down on her again and again. He didn’t hold back. In no time, Citrine’s face was battered and bruised. She collapsed on the ground, blood pooling beneath her, but even then, she clung to the roll she’d taken, refusing to let go.

Just as Citrine thought she might die right there on the bakery floor, Manley appeared. He sat calmly in his wheelchair at the end of the alley, nodding to the bodyguard at his side. In a flash, the guard stepped forward and blocked the baker’s next blow.

“That’s enough. We’ll pay for what she took,” the bodyguard said, pulling a few crisp bills from his pocket and handing them to the baker.

The baker, seeing how much he was offered, finally relented and stormed back inside, grumbling under his breath.

By now, Citrine was barely conscious.

Manley rolled his chair closer, eyeing the dirty, battered girl with a trace of distaste.

He clicked his tongue. “Little stray, how long have you been starving out here?”

Even so, the wariness in Citrine’s eyes didn’t fade.

Before Manley could think of what to say next, Citrine suddenly fainted.

When she woke again, she was lying in a clean room with an IV in her arm.

Her eyes darted around in alarm, but when she saw her wounds were neatly bandaged, her panic eased a little.

At least, for now, she was safe.

Not long after, the door swung open and a boy stepped inside. It was Travis Carmichael.